#i hope you’ve all had a good year and that you’re looking forward to making a great one next year

[uncouth-the-fifth]

last child - Leon Kennedy/Reader

read it on Ao3.

Pairing: Agent!Leon/Detective!Wife!Reader Tags: more domestic fluff with leon, a touch of angst over leon's scars, passing mentions of drinking, leon being a fucking cheeseball, leon's obscenely handsome back. Words: ~3k Notes: hiiiiii. thank you all so much for you kind comments on the first drabble in this lil collection, i have never felt so inspired!! thus, here's more romantic bullshit with the guy. i'm thinking these will all exist within the same vague universe with detective!reader and husband!leon, especially because you guys gave me some very interesting ideas for him. this drabble in particular was inspired by emrurow, who suggested: "leon def has a whole package of scars from his missions and just imagine this scene where the reader is like gently caressing them and kissing them and its just so fluffly and sweet and vulnerable at the same time.........aghhhh." AGREED. now combine that with my strange urge to hose this bitch down with sunscreen. i hope you like the direction i took for this! enjoy <3

“Vacation” is a funny word in the Kennedy world.

When your work-buddies at the precinct bring up their vacations, it’s always a trip with the kids that’s months in the making, or summer getaways with the missus they’ve requested time off for. Always in the States and always planned ahead. The big joke in the bullpen is that the officer with the most cases closed this year will win a dazzling trip to Greece—but Leon has been to Greece, and he claims it’s pretty boring.

You think you’d find Greece pretty boring, too, if you spent the whole time there crawling around in the mud and hiding under enemy tanks.

So, no Greece for you. Vacations in the Kennedy world look more like this: Leon is cleared to go home, he somehow gets hold of your ever-shifting work schedule, becomes possessed with the urge to throw himself at the closest idea of “relaxing,” and springs it on you as a very romantic surprise. No elaborate itineraries. No plan. Just whatever consensus the two of you come to in the car, partners-in-crime escaping into the wind.

“So… Vegas?” You joke, slipping your key into the ignition of Leon’s precious Lamborghini Miura. So precious to him, in fact, that he avoids driving it at every opportunity.

The second he sags down into the passenger’s seat, your husband spams the recline button until he’s near-horizontal. The hand not cradling an ice pack over his nasty black eye curls loose around your elbow.

He scoffs, winking open his good eye at you. “With my luck?”

“Ooh, right. Bad idea then.”

Yeah. His track record with cars alone was impressive—he’d busted open two in the first year you’d been married, and you’ve been chauffeuring him ever since. Somehow, you don’t think Leon and casinos would mix.

You can’t resist the urge to pet his poor knuckles. These, too, were banged up. After a beat of the two of you filing through all of your available escape plans, you break the pensive bubble in the car by sweetly kissing his bruise-mottled hand. “Mwah. Where do you want to be right now, baby? Let me take you there.” 

Leon’s head had lolled to face yours, and for the millionth time since Racoon you’re struck by how bone-tired he always seems. He rasps with a tasteful touch of patheticness, “I want a cold beer and I wanna be outside. Wanna see you in a swimsuit, too.”

As straight-forward as a chainsaw, this guy. Hm. Your brows flick up at the picture he paints for you, and you lean right up to his face so Leon can see how unimpressed you are. “Do you want a sandwich, too, Mr. Kennedy? Maybe some—”

You go quiet even before Leon lays a kiss on you. It’s his hand that does it, long-fingered and twisted with damage, guiding you closer with enough painful tenderness to make a mote of sand feel special. Uhm. What had you been saying? You’d been talking, but… The touch wasn’t a little tap for you to tilt your head up, no—it’s just on the right side of needy, the heavy pads of his fingertips dimpling your jaw so he can pull you down to kiss him. Happiness tastes like spearmint gum. 

You part with a soft wet sound. Leon licks his lip and smiles, “No. Just wanna be with you.”

Well, the best place to be with him that involved cold beer, the grand outdoors, and one of your swimsuits was the lakehouse he owned up in Philly. The fact that he agreed to go there was truly a testament to how desperate he was to relax. The lakehouse wasn’t like his Lamborghini, your Prada sandals, or the boat bobbing in the marina back in DC—it was a family heirloom. One last relic of the old Kennedy money he never talked about. The most Leon had ever said about his inheritance was that it was “dirty,” and you don’t think he meant in the messy way.

Your husband’s secretive past aside, the memories you’d made here together were sun-warm and golden. If you were looking to make some extra money on the side, you think you’d offer up the place to the film crew of some wholesome coming-of-age movie. It was stupidly gorgeous. On a sunny afternoon like this one, the water was one horizon-wide mirror, making the whole day twice as sky-blue and shimmering. A pine-y breeze cooled the drying water on your back and fluttered through the heavy, low-slung trees reaching for passing paddle-boats. Hanging over the whole thing was Leon’s personal slice of the Appalachian mountains. He never said much about the house itself, but his childhood hiking the trails was free game.

Leon has a knack for escaping. He’s not nearly as good at vacationing. Lucky for him, you wrote the goddamn manual.

Your husband lays his chin on his folded arms and peers at you over his shoulder. “Like this?”

From where you’re standing rooted to the weathered wood of your jetty, Leon is a fucking vision. He lays out in the sun on his belly, lazy tomcat limbs loose and pliant on the dock. All you can make out of his face is the white, knife-straight scar on his chin, hidden by a feathery curtain of angel blonde hair. Even the tacky palm tree beach towel he’s laying on suits him.

…It takes you a second to answer, cause, yeah. Yes. That’s… wow. Holy shit.

“...Dear?” 

How can one word gush with so much smugness? Hoo, boy. He was a baby, honey, sweetheart guy. Not dear. For that, you slip off one of your foam flip-flops to smack him or something—but, of course, Leon swats it aside without looking. 

The innocent little shoe almost goes spiraling into the water lapping at the dock, but bumps into your cooler instead. A fishing boat just a few leagues out has arena rock radio on full blast. One of Leon’s hands taps out the drums for Hot for Teacher.

“Shut up.” You puff a strand of hair out of your face. “Is that really how you’re gonna talk to the person single-handedly saving you from sun-damage?”

“Haven’t saved me yet,” he gives a pointed wiggle of his poor, sunscreen-less shoulders.

As rebellious as you’re feeling, you do as told. He’s impossible to resist like this. Well, he’s upsettingly dreamy in any situation, but he’s at his worst when he’s all lazy and languid for you after too long apart.

“Let’s fix that,” you say, and uncap your tube of SPF 50.

Leon’s face drops back into his folded arms. You pad around his body on the towel, careful not to step on him as you take your usual seat on the small of his back. It’s then that the gravity of your task hits you. Why the fuck are his elbows attractive?

Bigger question: how are you going to survive the next fifteen minutes? It had been you in the skincare aisle this morning. Hell, your hand had gone for the lotion sunscreen over the spray sunscreen for a reason. In that moment, you knew how your decision would butterfly into the future, and that no matter what you would always end up here, staring down the gorgeous swath of Leon’s bare back. Un-sunscreened. Needing you to touch him. Ugh.

“My eyes are up here,” Leon remarks at your silence.

Your other flip-flop dings off his shoulder with a satisfying bounce.

“...I let that happen.”

You don’t doubt that he did, but it feels good to tease him. 

Burdened by the consequences of your actions, you slump forwards on top of him. He’s dinged up even back here, and there are strange, yellowing bruises patching around his shoulder-blades that you stoop to kiss. You understand why he only has the energy to lay flat on a towel like a fish. It looks painful, and not for the first time in your life you’re overwhelmed by the need to take care of him.

…He has single-handedly set feminism back at least thirty years.

Well. Dammit. You glare down at your husband’s stupid, beautiful back muscles. “I do this because I love you very much. Not because I feel obligated to as your wife, or cause’ of any societal expectations. Just because of you.”

Leon, still running on a dead battery, gives you a confident salute. You imagine eagles cawing overhead. “Yes, ma’am.”

Another loss for feminism: that gets a big, giddy laugh out of you. Maybe you just missed him, but his sleepy jokes are hitting the mark even more than usual. You’re still peeling with giggles as you drop a big dollop of sunscreen into your hand, and they don’t die down until you’ve spread it between your palms and begun to spread it out over his shoulders.

The tips of his ears have gone red. He warmly mutters, “Love that sound.”

Since it’s not every day that you get to indulge in your husband’s back, you take your time. He lets out a long breath when the cold cream meets his sun-warm skin, and in that one sound you hear weeks of pent-up tension already melting away. Leon has always seemed unstoppable to you. Even in his wiry rookie days, when you never would’ve called him wiry at all, he felt like he could plow through anything on a wave of willpower and spite. Now, that relentlessness has become physical. He’s plump with muscle all over. His back especially, so much of his weight as taut and ready-to-go as a bull on the charge. 

Or, in less words: he’s built like a brick shithouse.

But he is still, at his core, the not-wiry-yet-wiry rookie you loved. When you accidentally press into a new bruise, he makes a soft wincing sound through his teeth.

“Sorry, baby,” you utter. 

From then on, your touches go feather-light. You fan your palms down his slim waist and make sure his freckly shoulders get good coverage. For a while, the thoughts in your mind go somewhere far away and shapeless, focussed only on the task at hand. But the sunscreen makes his skin so shiny that all the little details catch more highlights than usual, and you realize, with a rising sense of discomfort, that all the things you aren’t allowed to know about him are laid out in front of you. There are loads of scars on your husband’s back that you don’t even recognise anymore.

The old ones are the ones you know. Most of them are nothing more than thin, pale discolorations now, just distinct enough to make out from memory. In a fucked up way, it’s fascinating: there is a sad old scar on the back of your hand from Raccoon, and when it passes over a similar jagged cut on Leon’s ribs, the two have aged together. But while you’ve gained only a few odd scrapes or dings being a detective in DC, Leon’s body is a whole new story.

They are not the neat, decorational scars an artist might accessorize a figure with. It’s all ugly, in inconvenient places that layer over one another, quick swipes, deep gouges, shallow bullet wounds, shredded lacerations, and more you don’t even have words for. Your heart plummets into your gut. You’ve seen these scars on him when they were still fresh bandages, but it only dawns on you now, stepping back to look at the full picture, just how many he has.

You swallow hard. “I’m so glad you’re home. Did I tell you that?”

Leon hums a yes, but it’s a dragged out, suspicious sound. He’s quick to sus you out. Nobody in the world can read you better.

You’re shooed off his back with a hand, and when he lumbers off his belly to sit up and face you, the sliver of black-eye you catch underneath his ice pack cuts you deep. He hasn’t opened his free arm for a whole second before you’re darting underneath it, his body tacky with sunscreen where it melds with yours. Your finger swirls around the oldest bullet-scar on his arm.

Leon takes a slow pull from his beer, squishing your face a little where it’s tucked against his shoulder. The bottle taps against the dock. Tink. Always, always, he has to joke with you first. “You’re making your worried face. Stop thinking.”

Your voice is muffled by his shoulder. “You can’t even see my worried face.”

“Then you’re making your worried silence.” Disappointed, he asks, “Where’d all your giggles go?” 

The reply that your mind loads up for him is an unfiltered, pained, I hate that you’ve been in so much pain. But telling him that would only be stating the obvious, and in the grand scheme of his mission and his self-bound duty to protecting other people, (never himself, never ever himself), it feels like a stupid thing to say.

You’re not sure what to say. Instead, you drag your finger down a raised pink scar on the back of his arm, laid neatly with connective tissue like rows of embroidery. “...What’s this from?”

Leon has to check to know which one you’re talking about. Squinting at his arm, he plucks through his memory before guessing, “Pulled a girl out of a fire.”

That is exactly what you figured he’d say. Sure, he’ll chatter your ear off about Aerosmith and Italian cooking to no end, but the second you even blink in the direction of his work, the chatter dries up. All that’s missing is the smart-mouthed segue—

Leon pulls a smug face. “She’s a virologist now.”

“Ashley isn’t graduating until next year,” you roll your eyes.

That earns you a one-arm shrug. He’s still glimmering with pride. “She’ll be a virologist in a year, then.”

It’s never what gave him the scar that he remembers—it’s why he got it, what cause he took it for, that he never forgets.

The arm wrapped slung around your waist goes for his beer again, and this time Leon squishes you extra while he takes his sip. When that doesn’t succeed in sparking another laugh from you, he drops all pretense and resorts to tickling you, pinching your side and keeping you fished against him when you shriek and squirm away.

“Leon!”

“What!” He groans. “I’m trying to have a little R&R and you’re brooding. Enough.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you scoff—and then scream in outrage, because Leon decides he’s had enough of you and attempts to push you off the dock.

The only reason you don’t go sploshing into the drink is because you get a good hold on him first, and if you go down, then so would he. Between all that playful wrestling and shouting, Leon tugs you into an insistent kiss. And because this is him, the center of all good things in your world, you come out of it warm-faced and giggling again, your cheeks aching with a bright grin. He never fails to make you laugh.

You slump back on the beach towel, still twitching with little laughs. Just to win some of your dignity back, you reach past him and steal a long sip from his beer, shaking your head at him the whole time. It washes down your throat bubbly and wonderfully cold. “So mean.”

“C’mere,” Leon pats the space next to him. And knowing precisely what he’s doing, he hits you with one of the closed-mouth smiles you never see and assuages all of your worries with one, “My sweet girl.”

Hook, line, and sinker. You join him on the end of the dock, (weary of any mischievous hands that might shove you in), feet dangling over the edge and dipping into the pleasant, swaying waters. The breeze on your wet skin is almost too chilly, so Leon’s sun-warm body spooning up behind yours is the ultimate balm. You bask in your personal space heater for as long as he’ll let you, and he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder as you squeeze him close.

There’s a long, scraggly white line snaking up his wrist. You outline it with a finger. This is one of the ones you were there for, back in Raccoon—Leon took a bad hit for you, pushing you ahead of him so you could get to safety first. You’re curious to see what he’ll say.

You tap the scar. “What about this one?”

Leon doesn’t have to look to know which one you’re talking about, this time. His nose nudges behind your ear, and your body thumbs head to toe with the rumble of his voice, a single harp’s chord plucked by an expert player. “Keeping my world safe.”

Oh my god.

A huge, impish grin blooms on your face. “...You are such a fucking cheeseball.”

Leon pushes you clean off his lap and straight into the lake.

#uncouthre #leon kennedy #leon kennedy drabble #leon #leon kennedy/reader #leon s kennedy

[supercutszns]

Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky. 

This year, there were two. 

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls. 

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love. 

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day. 

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen. 

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility. 

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him. 

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away. 

“You alright there, sunshine?” 

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile. 

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.  

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you. 

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes. 

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls. 

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does. 

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him. 

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice. 

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you. 

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer. 

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun. 

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt. 

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh. 

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on. 

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear. 

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.” 

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is. 

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink. 

You haven’t talked to him since. 

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too. 

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale. 

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you. 

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next. 

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin. 

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?” 

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both. 

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers. 

He will not. Stop. Looking at you. 

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there. 

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way. 

Luke, calling your name. 

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him. 

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear. 

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks. 

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.” 

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it. 

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!” 

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm. 

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly. 

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.” 

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty. 

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in. 

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth. 

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #perrie's requests #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo fic #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo tv show #heroes of olympus #percy jackson

[horrorartsworld]

revenge is sweet pt. 2

lucifer/demon f!reader

a/n: for all the babies that wanted a part two!!

warnings: rough sex if you squint, lucifer being possessive because he can, daddy kink, slapping, spanking, brat taming, not proofread 😵‍💫

here’s part one if you missed it!!

(little recap:)

"HE DID WHAT?!"

Rubbing the back of your arm sheepishly as you stood there watching Lucifer's eyes turn red as his demon form became more prominent, teeth snarling as he came closer to you. "Well... hehe...we'll just have to fix that, won't we my love?" danger laced in his voice as he closed the space between you two.

"I'm fucked."

In all your years of knowing him you’ve never seen him this upset to the point he seemed as if he was loosing it. Loosing it at the thought that little shit for brains actually one upped him, let alone with his own wife. IN HIS OWN WIFE IN FACT.

“Oh you have no idea…” he spoke threateningly with a hidden promise you knew all too well. However, your fiery attitude from earlier never died down, so you weren’t gonna back down without a proper fight.

“Are you really surprised though? You’ve been away for weeks, practically months without even trying to see me, let alone be with me, your wife!” you finally snap thinking back at why this all happened in the first place. Lucifer only scowled at the thought, narrowing his red eyes at you.

“Doesn’t mean you can run around and be an unfaithful whore” he says in an unsettlingly calm tone making that fire you thought you had just now fizzle out within an instant, causing you to shift uncomfortably in front of him.

“Still…you fucking left me Luci…and you know how i get when i’m alone and you didn’t even bother to call me,” you cross your arms over your chest looking away from him and out the window to the streets of hell as it seemed more wild around this time of night.

He runs a hand through his hair, laughing to himself in visible frustration but he still tried to tone it down while he looked you over. “Listen…” he said sternly yet still keeping this calm persona, his voice the only thing echoing in your ears. “Whatever you say or do from this point forward will have consequences to your actions, so i suggest you be a good girl and stop spouting nonsense to get you out of what’s about to happen.” you genuinely couldn’t believe what you’re hearing, facing him once more, your brattiness on full defense mode as you persisted on letting him hear your side.

“And why should i listen to you? It’s not like you’re bothering to listen to what i have to say right now.” you spat, the corner of your mouth twitching up in a snarl. Simply chuckling, Lucifer’s hand found it’s way into your hair with an unsuspecting tight grip, fist unforgiving as you were yanked down to your knees.

“Now is that any way to talk to your overlord sweetheart?”

You yelped softly as your knees burned with the sudden contact they just had with the floor, the unmissable low tone of his dominance causing your nerves to spiral.

“Hm?” He probed, hand pulling your hair even more taught as he pulled you closer to his clothed crotch, your cheek coming into contact with his hard-on while he rutted against it making your throat run dry.

You felt like you were having an out of body experience, this kind of intimidation and authority coming from Lucifer wasn’t like him and it seemed as though it was having quite the effect on you.

“Speak. Now.” he reprimanded, using his hold on your hair to crane your neck back to look up at him in all his glory.

“Mm- I’m sorry..” your voice coming out more pitiful and meek then you hoped, opposite of your heated speech from earlier.

Holding your breath you watched a sinister smile crept onto your husband’s face causing your heart to drop to your ass, quivering uneasily in his hold he nods gesturing to his hard-on strained so eagerly now against his nice dress pants.

“Oh i know baby, but you gotta prove it” his hand slipping out from your hair, but his hold on you was still evident even though it wasn’t physical anymore.

His sinister smile very much still plastered on his snake like mouth, watching as you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull his lower half towards your face. You undo his belt with much delicacy, watching the straining fabric as it came into view, your once dry mouth watering instantly.

You pull out his hardened cock, the tip flushed red, angry and spewing precum, kitten licking it and then giving a light kiss to the tip just to sweeten him up a bit.

Lucifer not being able to hold in his reactions as he shivers, letting out tiny puffs of air as he watches you carefully kiss down his shaft. And after a while of you prolonging it he grabs your hair once more, pulling you back from his cock.

"That’s enough.." he grumbles, when you desperately try to put your mouth back on it again. "You had enough time to make this about you, this about me now. Open your mouth and stick out your tongue."

Brows furrowing in confusion while you try not to pout, you lean back on your heels doing just as he says with your mouth open and waiting. Your lashes batting up at him as you watch him tower over you, putting his legs on either side of your thighs while holding his length directly in front of mouth stroking himself up and down.

Small breathy moans escape his lips as his head is then thrown back with his lip caught between his teeth. You wanted nothing more than to have this picture burned in the back of your brain as he looked so beautiful.

He curses under his breath practically thinking the same thing as you, seeing you sitting there so obediently and drooling for his seed.

“Hungry for daddies cum aren’t you?” slapping his tip against your tongue, you nod eagerly feeling him start to tease it into your mouth.

A hand wrapping around it instinctively helping him get closer, pumping him and moving your head in a bobbing motion causing him to growl above you.

He then without warning thrusts deep hitting the back of your throat making you gag, tears welling up in your eyes whilst his hand holds your head in place, not giving you a second to breathe. Thrusting a few more times before his hot seed spills into your throat, purposely pulling out and letting your spit fall down your chin.

You sallow the salty substance and then take a much needed breath, that was short lived when he reaches down to grab you by the throat pulling you up to his level. Your knees aching from being in that kneeling position for longer than you thought. “Who owns you?”

“Y-you do…” you muster out, he then holds you away from him as he slaps you lightly a few times, putting everything in him not to go further to ruin your pretty face, but just enough for it to sting.

“Say it better then that~” he gritted through his teeth, cowering in his hold you try everything in you to say it like he wanted.

“You own me!~” you shout with a pitiful whine following.

“Oh that’s my good girl…You fucking know who owns this body and you better not forget it…”

Once you got the notion of it possibly being over, you were wrongfully mistaken as you were thrown onto the bed with your backside facing him. The hole in your fishnets still very much there from when you and Adam were at it causing Lucifer grimace, throwing a harsh smack to your ass, your body jolting with the impact.

“Count..” he demands ripping your fishnets more to where they were basically off of you, shivering underneath him as you felt the warmth of his hand print spreading amongst your cheek.

“O-one…”

He spanked you again harder this time, across the center of your ass, and you whimpered.

"Mhmph..again..." he moaned softly with you while soothing your stinging skin. Before spanking you the second time, but on your right.

"Two!" You gasped against the sheets when he immediately spanked another time. “T-Three!”

He spanked you again and again about eight more times, and left sweet kisses down your neck for taking it so good to him.

“D-daddy…i….mm- please~” you look back at him behind you with pleading eyes, your clit radiating with heat that couldn’t go ignored much longer.

“Please what baby?” he mocked sweetly, feeling his cock twitch just at your words and the pout taking place on your face.

“Pleeeeease fuck me daddy…i-i need you so bad~” you cry out wanting nothing more to be filled by the one who owned you.

A low growl admits from him as your naughty words were rewarded gratefully once he finally made his way in, stretching your walls so deliciously making you tremble as you adjusted. Not shortly after he started rocking his hips slowly into you then finally finding a good pace that made you mewl uncontrollably.

“Such a dumb slut you are baby….getting filled by two different cocks in one day…fuuuuck…but you know daddies is better huh?…” he coos at you in a baby voice as if he wasn’t fucking you senseless into the mattress.

If you weren’t already out of your wits end you would have realized this was brought back upon the rivalry once more, but at the end of it was nether of the men who won this war.

It was you who had got fucked for most of it.

Which not even a couple months later you came up pregnant.

Now the real war is who’s the baby daddy?

(i know this is a wack ass ending but i thought it was funny 💀)

#☆⋆｡𖦹 my writings #☆⋆｡𖦹 lucifer #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin imagine #lucifer hazbin #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar smut #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut

[astroph1les]

more than study buddies | h.c

summary: you’ve had a crush on hazel for yearsnow. after you get partnered with her in mr.g’s class, she asks you to come over to study for the final exam. tired of not being able to act on this crush, you turn to isabel for some help in seduction. you attempt a few of her tactics but it seems that hazel doesn’t really seem to be that interested. or so, you think until you’re straight it forward with how you feel.

pairing: hazel callahan x fem!reader

contains: mature language, mature content, smut including — oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), hazel being an absolute teasing dom bc i said so, mrs.callahan almost catches reader and hazel but is saved by a locked door, reader does not know how to flirt to save their lives, isabel & josie being cuties and supportive of hazel and reader, no y/n!!!

a/n: i hope everyone enjoys. this is my first time ever writing about a sapphic character so i hope it meets expectations. thank you! :))

word count: 7K (i got extremely carried away)

You and Hazel shared Mr.G’s class. It didn’t take a genius to notice that Hazel was insanely attractive with her mullet rocker hair, insanely sharp cheekbones, and big blue eyes that had you blushing at just the thought. After being assigned partners for the ‘Death of Women in History’ section for Mr.G’s class, you two had got to talking more and more about each other.

First, that Mr.G’s class really made no sense a majority of the time and that you had no idea how he even got hired. Hazel agreed but pointed out that at least it was an easy class. Along with looking cool, Hazel just was so fucking cool. She knew taekwondo, how to build a bomb (you didn’t question why or how she knew how to do that) and how she blew up that douchebag Jeff’s car after cheating on Isabel, who had also become close friends throughout the year, with Hazel’s mom.

You were pretty sure that was extremely illegal but didn’t even have to comment on it to tell that it pissed and disgusted Hazel off beyond belief.

You were surprised to find out that she didn’t have a girlfriend nor had she ever had a girlfriend. This made you more hopeful for a chance with her. You gushed to Isabel as you had been doing all semester about Hazel once class ended.

“Oh my god, you are obsessed with her,” Isabel teased you as you walked down the halls. “You know, if you want, I could for sure give you some tips on how to hint to her that you wanna be more than just friends.”

This made your eyebrows raise in interest. You weren’t really the flirty type in any way. You were the type to repress your crush on someone for as long as you could until it eventually went away. Rejection clouded your confidence as soon as you even considered confessing to your past crushes.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you awkwardly chuckled, shrugging your shoulders. “I think we’re good now a-as friends.”

“Is that what you tell yourself when you're jerking off to the thought of her?” Isabel deadpanned causing you to blush.

You whip your head around the halls to see if Hazel or if anyone associated with her was around. You would rather die than have her hear that.

“I told you that happened one time!” You sneered through a whisper at the freckled girl.

Isabel continued to just stare at you unamused at your lies. The two of you approached your locker and there across the way was Hazel wearing a cozy brown sweater and green pants with her low Doc Martens. She was talking to Josie about something you couldn’t quite make out from a distance. Just seeing her made those memories of the many nights you’ve happened to use her as some inspiration to get off.

Many, many nights.

“Okay, a lot more than once but shut up. She is right there.” You sneered at your friend, glancing at Hazel once more before opening your locker to place your textbooks for the day.

As you do, you notice Isabel raise her hands up in defense before ogling at her Josie.

“Now go and talk to your girlfriend. I can see you eye-fucking her from here.” You poke at her gorgeous head of hair with a gag as she hugs you quickly, reminding you to FaceTime her tonight so that you can work out exactly how you could seduce Hazel.

Isabel happily walks over and throws her arms around Josie’s neck to kiss her softly. Hazel visibly grimaced at how heavily the kiss progressed in such a short amount of time before removing herself from their space.

“Hazel, hey,” you call out with a grin, hoping you didn’t scare her.

Hazel sighed out of relief at the sight of you which, of course, made your smitten heart thump.

“Shit, I’m glad I caught you actually. Mr.G’s test is coming up in about a week and I was wondering if you wanted to start coming over to study for it,” Hazel proposed and you felt your throat close up.

“Like a…. study-date?” You question carefully.

Hazel shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Sure, yeah. So tomorrow after school? We can walk to my house.”

You blinked once, trying to process what you already agreed to. You nod with a deep inhale, a nervous smile that you hoped looked normal to your crush for years now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” she reached forward to place a hand on your shoulder before walking away.

Your eyes followed her figure as you waited until she completely disappeared in the crowd of students leaving for activities and to go home. You inched forward to Josie and Isabel, lightly tapping on Isabel’s shoulder in a panic. Isabel audibly groaned and detached herself from Josie to look at whoever was tapping her but when she saw you, her face softened.

“What—“

“Hazel just invited me over tomorrow to study for Mr.G’s test. I don’t know what to do. What the fuck do I wear?” You express in a panic, messing with your middle finger ring as a sort of comfort.

Josie raised a finger up and shrugged. “Maybe study? I don't know…” Her voice faded out as her girlfriend then stared at her warningly.

“No, I am coming over tonight,” Isabel removed herself from Josie who just gaped at you and the honey haired woman. “FaceTime is not enough. Bring your best outfit ideas and I’ll help with seduction techniques because, no offense, but you really need it.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait,” Josie interrupted with a grin already forming, “you like Hazel?”

You raised a fist to punch her shoulder and point at her. “Shut up, Josie.”

“Oh my god, babe, you seriously haven’t noticed? She’s jaw dropped and drools every time she’s around.”

“Okay, whatever, jesus. Yes, I do and I’m freaking out right now because I really like her and she’s so fucking hot and not only that, she’s actually a really nice person. God, I want her so bad.” You stress yourself out as you think about how tomorrow evening was going to go.

Isabel glanced at you with a grimace as she understood your struggle. She reached forward to pat your shoulder, not knowing how else to comfort you.

That same night, Isabel made her way over to your place to help you pick out an outfit. The two of you went through every single item in your closet. Isabel gave you one single tip on the clothing options for seduction; cleavage. It should’ve been a given in your eyes but being told it would for sure.

So, deep within the old, thrifted clothes, Isabel found something you completely forgot you had bought on a whim. She pulled out a soft pink cotton dress that was practically lingerie as the boob area was lined with lace.

“Isn’t that too dressy for a study date?” You proposed to Isabel.

“Definitely but it’ll make your tits look amazing.” Isabel emphasized, motioning to your chest.

Did your tits not look amazing on every other day?

So, the next afternoon after the last bell rang, you rushed to the bathroom to change into that said dress, quickly smoothing down the front to lessen the wrinkles from how you shoved it into your backpack. You glanced at your cleavage and Isabel was right about how great your tits looked.

They were a pretty average size but the lace and slight lift on the top area made your confidence rise a bit. Walking out of the bathroom, you spot Hazel leaning on your locker. A black and white zig-zag button up, a black opened vest on top with a medium wash of blue jean and a pair of creme white Converse.

Her chains shine very faintly against her neck which shouldn’t have driven you insane as it did.

You move yourself into her eye-line with a friendly, innocent grin. Hazel’s brows raised in your direction then furrowing at your obvious change in attire.

“Hey, you ready to go?” She asked with slight confusion in her tone.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you nod.

“Oh! I was able to get my mom’s car today so we don't have to walk for, like, half a fucking hour.”

The news caused you to internally sigh in relief. You were wearing Converse which weren’t exactly the most comfortable for walking miles. Plus, you didn’t want to try and seduce your way into Hazel’s heart.

The whole drive was quiet as you, in all honesty, completely forgot about every single thing that Isabel had told you to do. It’s not your fault that Hazel looked ridiculously attractive behind the wheel, driving with one hand gripping the wheel with the windows down.

It looked straight out of a fucking rom-com. You couldn’t help but gawk at the way the wind blew her rocker hair wildly, exposing her sharp cheekbones. The soft melody of a random radio station playing in the background really just made it full circle.

Maybe you could start here and compliment her.

“You look really nice driving,” you blurted out, wanting to vomit already at how fast and loud the words left your mouth.

Hazel’s face twitched in confusion for a moment, glancing over at you with a slight grin.

“Nice?” Her tone was teasing. “Thank you, I think?”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod, embarrassment flooding through your veins.

Yeah, you didn’t say anything else the rest of the drive to her house. Pulling up, you tug the ends of the skirt of your dress down so you don’t flash her. You peaked over at her as she put the car in park, checking her out as discreetly as you could.

Hazel walked around the front of the car to open the door for you as you reached for the handle, catching you off guard. You froze for a still second before flashing her a flirty smile.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that,” you inform Hazel who had an arm raised and rested on the opened door.

“You’re the guest.” Hazel shrugged with a small grin before adding on, “also, it’s jammed on the child’s lock for some reason so I have to open it from the outside.”

This made your expression falter but you attempted to hide it. You threw your backpack over your shoulder as you stepped out of the car. Hazel moves out of your way to motion towards the front door. Or doors, in Hazel's case.

The walk to Hazel’s room made your heart sink. The confidence that had been waving in and out of your system had fully disappeared into thin air. Hazel strides in front of you, turning a corner to the egg-white wooden door to her room. She opens the door and moves out of the way, again, to let you in first.

“Just make yourself comfortable.”

You haven’t been comfortable since you walked into the house. Hazel sets her backpack down on the ground next to her desks' swivel chair. As she turned around, you tugged the front of the dress down to reveal your cleavage more for her to notice.

This is where it had to begin.

Setting your bag down in the same area, you brushed your hair out of your way and leaned on the desk with one hand. You made sure to make your arm press into the side of her boob to accentuate the front of the dress. Hazel turned to find you there right behind her, eyes widening and blinking once out of surprise of how close in prolixity you had become.

Then, Isabel’s advice came echoing in your mind.

“Compliment the smell of her or her room. Or even both. I know I love when people let me know how good I smell.”

“Hey, you know your room smells really good. It smells like you,” you smile, looking her up and down and leaning in closer. “What is it?”

Her room did, in fact, smell like some sort of fragrance mixture of woody, mahogany, and sage with a hint of lavender. Hazel glanced around the room before her eyes landed right where you had been wanting her to look; right at your tits.

“Uh, thank you. I have no idea. Probably ‘mahogany teakwood’ or some shit like that.”

You nod, mentally noting that. Hazel, then, got out all of the material needed for Mr.G’s class. Shit, you haven't even packed a notebook. Isabel gave you the confidence to assure you that something was going to happen.

Fuck.

Hazel was already getting out different colored pens and pencils, laying them out on her desk. You pretend to look through your bag, faking a sigh and groan as you continue your act.

“Damn it,” you muttered.

Hazel was quick to notice your frantic rummaging before asking, “what’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot to get my notebook so I can’t really study. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re fine,” Hazel reassured, a kind smile on her face. You hated how much it made your head spin. “Here— shit,” she dropped her notebook while handing it to you. The clumsiness made you smile; not making fun but in admiration of how cute she was.

Isabel was painfully right. You were obsessed with everything about her, it was concerning sometimes.

“I got it. Thank you,” you tell her as you bend forward to pick up the notebook from the ground, looking up at her from the ground.

Hazel’s eyes find themselves locked on your cleavage again. She nodded, clearing her throat and twiddling a pencil around her fingers skillfully.

“Yeah, of course.” Hazel smacks her tongue against her teeth. “We should probably… get to it though.”

You nod to yourself, clutching the notebook in a way that has the metal spiral digging into your palm. How were you going to seduce her when she actually wants to study?

“Right, yeah,” you respond, glancing over at her made bed. A thought filled your brain as you pointed to the bed. “Hey, is it okay if we get on the bed? It’ll probably be more comfortable that way.”

Hazel glanced at her bed then at you before nodding without hesitation. “Sure, yeah.”

The tension in the air was indescribable. When you were studying by yourself in your own room, you were usually blasting music on your speaker or in your headphones to the point of everything else around you becoming insignificant. There was complete silence in the room which made you even more nervous to be with Hazel in her room.

The two of you then sit on the bed; Hazel prying off her shoes to sit criss-cross on the bed and you lie down in front of her, one arm holding up your head and the other writing down mindlessly. Hazel actually seemed to be writing and studying while you were just scribbling your name down in different fonts. She had no idea how much you had been zoned out and bored.

That is until after half an hour of ‘studying’, Hazel asked you a question about a topic she was writing about.

“Oh, uh,” you look down at the paper and then back at her.

She was staring at you, waiting patiently for some sort of answer but she glanced at your graphite covered paper to see what you had been doing this entire time you had been here. Embarrassment begins to flood your system as you meet her gaze.

“Have you been writing your name over and over again?”

“Yeah…” You trailed off, having no defense whatsoever. You were bored, on the verge of giving up seducing Hazel. Might as well just tell her the truth. “I’m sorry, Hazel. I… never wanted to really study.”

Hazel chuckled and nodded her head towards the scribbled piece of paper. “Yeah, I noticed but why’d you say yes then? Did you wanna just… hangout or something?”

As you were about to open your mouth to ramble out some stupid love confession, Isabel’s voice echoed in your head.

“If you can’t do the subtle, seductive route, be honest about what you want. Some people hate it when they dance around what they really want to say or do. Be direct.”

You sucked in a deep breath, sitting up so that you were sitting across from Hazel with one leg hanging off of the bed. Your socked foot accidentally nudged her pant leg as you straightened out your back, making sure to keep eye contact with her.

“I want you, Hazel.” You kept your voice clear and lowered a bit to let her know that it was in fact in a sexual manner.

Hazel’s face dropped and you were already conjuring up an ‘it was a joke’ or ‘I’m just messing with you’ until she tilted her head with a smile.

“In a sexual and romantic way,” you emphasized with a grin.

“Is that why you changed into a dress after class?” Her tone was in its usual teasing way.

“What do you mean? I was wearing this all day.” You lied straight through your teeth but your grin gave away that you were being sarcastic.

Hazel just shook her head at you, muttering something under the lines of ‘such a tease’ as she leaned forward to press her lips onto yours. You blushed at both her words and how quick she was to kiss you. Her lips felt gentle and smooth against your own.

You inhaled and picked up a rhythm as she cradled the back of your neck with her hands. You were a bit intimidated by how experienced she was with her movements even though she had told you that she had none. Not that you were calling her a liar but she felt so fucking good.

Your hands awkwardly sat on your lap, not knowing where else to place them. This position made your lower back ache and not in a good way. You pull away from her slick lips, sucking in a deep breath.

“Can I,” you begin but hesitate for a moment. “Can we change positions? I’m sorry. My back is aching.”

You both softly chuckle at your question but it didn’t feel awkward. No, it felt more comfortable than anything. In fact, she shoved all of her school notebooks and pens on the ground with a cheeky grin.

“You can sit on my lap, c’mere.” Hazel scooched up further on the bed so that she was resting with her back against the bed frame, her legs straight out.

You blushed at the sight of her slightly slick and red lips and flushed cheeks. You forced yourself to follow forward and straddle Hazel’s legs. Her hands immediately found your waist, thumbs rubbing at the skin through the fabric.

“I’m not too heavy, right? Like it doesn’t hurt your legs?” You ask softly, placing your hands on Hazel’s shoulders.

“No, no. Trust me, this feels really good.” Hazel makes her point by running her palms up and down your sides than to squeeze at your thighs.

Your skin heats up as you feel her rings indenting into it with her soft grip. To hide your blush, you pull her into another passionate kiss. Your hands find her neck while she holds your waist, slightly rocking them forward. You let out a noise of pleasure as you feel her tongue swipe past your bottom lip.

Hazel began to smile against your lips after the noise left your mouth and she pulled away to then kiss at the skin underneath your jaw. You hum at the feeling of her lips sucking and biting at the skin. The room’s atmosphere was filled with the two of you letting out the gentlest of sensual sounds to egg each other on.

“Hazel,” you whine, rolling your hips into hers desperately.

Hazel detached herself from your neck to glance down at the way you were moving against her. She pecked at your cheek, placing her hands on your hips encouragingly. You noticed this glint in her eye and it was clear to you that she was turned on by how you were trying to get off on her.

“There you go. Just like that. That feels good, yeah?” Her tone raising a little with that stupid fucking smirk on her face.

“Please touch me.” You begged, a wave of desperation falling over you.

Hazel shook her head, obviously taunting your aroused state. “I think you’re doing good right now, pretty girl. Look at you, fuck.”

“Please,” you whispered, leaning forward to capture her lips onto hers.

Hazel pulled away to instead kiss right above your left boob, looking at you through her eyes to make sure you were okay with what she was doing. A slight nod was all Hazel needed to continue her journey down. She uses one hand to move the straps of the delicate dress off your shoulders.

You watch her tug down the top area of the dress to expose your bare chest. You try not to make it known how nervous you were for this. No one has ever seen this part of you and Hazel meant a lot to you in so many ways already. She gently takes them into her palms, a shiver running down your spine at the contact of her cool rings.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Hazel hummed, now looking into your eyes.

It sounded so sincere and kind, you could shed a tear.

“Perfect?” You tilt your head to the side, no humor behind it. There was genuine curiosity if she meant it.

“Yeah, you are,” she pecks your lips once before placing another peck to the top of your tits. “I’m not just saying that because your boobs are in my face, by the way.”

This causes a soft laugh to erupt from your chest, leaning forward to rest your forehead on her shoulder. Her hands rub up and down your back soothingly as she chuckles along with you.

“Okay, I’m sorry.” You remove yourself from the comfort of her neck, pushing your hair out of your face.

“It’s okay. I just wanted to let you know that. Make you comfortable.” Hazel held your waist, looking between both of your eyes then your lips.

“I am. I just am really turned on right now.” You take your lip in between your teeth, adjusting yourself to grind once again on her lap.

Hazel took the hint and took one of your nipples in between her lips, sucking and licking on the bud. You gasp softly at the feeling, pushing your chest forward into the warmth of her mouth. You took one hand to brush her hair out of her face, moaning softly.

You were panting at the overwhelming feeling of her lips sucking and kissing at both of your tits and her hands gripping hungrily at your waist. It felt like so much but not enough all at once. You just wanted to be engulfed by this feeling; of Hazel.

“Can I go down on you?” Hazel asks softly, pulling away from your sensitive bud.

Your eyes widened at her words and tried to get out of your lustful haze. Your head felt clouded and not able to focus on anything other than this erotic feeling.

“I—Yeah. You really wanna?” You reply, a wave of both excitement and nerves flooding through your body.

“I really want to. If you’re not comfortable, though, that’s completely okay.” Hazel reassured you, kissing you gently on the lips. “We can keep doing this because trust me, this is really good too.”

You can’t help the smitten smile that spreads onto your lips. You hated how much you loved the bare minimum treatment she was giving you.

“No, I want to. I just— how do you want me?” You stare at her, waiting patiently.

Hazel bit her lip as she thought for a mere second before glancing to the empty space next to her. Hazel cupped your face once again to place a soft kiss to your lips. When she pulled away, you were quick to chase after the addicting taste of her. She pulled back with a teasing grin, moving her hands down to squeeze at your ass once.

“I’m gonna go and lock the door. Lay down for me, okay?”

For me. Fuck, she wanted to send you into cardiac arrest.

You nod and remove yourself from Hazel’s lap to sit down on the mattress. You could feel the wet patch on your underwear now that you were distracted by how your crush for years was sucking on your tits. Hazel rushed to lock the door, pushing her hair out of her face.

When Hazel locked her eyes on your figure on the bed, she sucked in a deep breath as if she was trying to keep her composure. She removed her open vest and her button up so that she was left in her white wife-pleaser and a black sports bra.

You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second in anticipation.

“You are so gorgeous,” Hazel tells you as she approaches the bed once again.

She crawls in between your open legs so that you are face-to-face. You answer by pressing your lips to hers. You crossed your arms around her neck to tug her more onto your body. Hazel moved her lips against yours, moving a hand from your neck to the skirt portion of the dress. She lifted it up so that it was resting around your stomach area to expose your black lace underwear you had worn for this.

Hazel hooked one finger underneath the waistband of the panties to snap it against your soft hips. You gasped at the feeling, in both pleasure and shock. Hazel pushes up on her arms to move down your body. She presses wet and attentive kisses down your chest and makes her way down to the plush of your stomach.

You sucked in out of habit so that you hoped you would appear thinner. You didn’t even realize earlier how exposed you were going to be. Hazel did take notice of the sudden tense feeling on your stomach as she kissed right above the waistband of your underwear.

“Hey, you gotta relax for me, okay?” Hazel mutters to you, hands kneeling into your soft thighs.

You sit up on your forearms to look Hazel in the eyes. “Sorry. I’ve never had anyone down there. I’m sorry if I look bloated or smell down there or—”

“Hey, it's okay. It’s okay. You look beautiful, okay? And as for the smell, its not supposed to smell like fucking vanilla or flowers. Men made that shit a standard because they’re fucking idiots.” Hazel’s words really set in your head as you tried to push away all the negative and harmful words that were telling you weren’t skinny or pretty enough to be doing this with her. “If I didn’t want to do this, I wouldn’t be.”

You nod slowly, watching as Hazel places feather-soft kisses onto your inner thighs. She was so attentive to every single sensitive part of your lower region. She kisses right over that wet spot on your underwear before taking the waistband of your underwear and tugging them down. She flings them somewhere in the corner of her room.

You want to close your legs out of instinct but you hold them open. Hazel leans down onto your pussy, placing a soft kiss onto your clit. Your hips shift at the feeling but you try to keep your composure. She looks up at you as she licks one stripe through your folds.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan softly, chasing her tongue for more.

Hazel continued to move her tongue through your slick folds, her hands gripping onto your thighs to hold you there. Your breathing was heavy and a slight layer of sweat began to form on your hairline and your lower back. The obscene sounds coming from your pussy only encouraged Hazel to pick up her movements.

You ran a hand through her hair as you felt it tickle at your inner thigh. Her eyes locked with yours as she sucked at your clit, waiting for pretty sounds to leave your lips. You whine and rock your hips against her mouth.

“You taste so good, baby,” she breathes against your slick folds. “So fucking good.”

The praise went straight to your core, your naked chest rising and falling as you were overwhelmed by her grip on you and her tongue hungrily moving through your folds. You tried to squirm away as you felt that familiar feeling in your lower abdomen.

Hazel wasn’t letting that happen, though. She slipped her pointer finger into your entrance slowly, lifting her head up to watch your reaction to this new feeling. You nodded at the feeling of something inside of you, jaw dropped as you didn’t realize she had kept her rings on. Feeling incredibly pathetic and needy as you clenched around her finger, you rocked your hips down as if that would make the pleasure increase.

“That feel good, pretty girl?” Hazel’s voice breathy in arousal, pumping her finger with one hand and keeping a tight grip onto your thigh to hold you open.

“More, please. Haze, I need to cum, please,” you begged, not even responding to her question.

Your mind was too clouded with the endorphins releasing from how good she was making you feel. Your hips kept grinding against her, feeling so out of your normal state of mind. Your lips were kiss-swollen and hair was beginning to frizz from the beads of sweat that were forming at your hairline.

“You look beautiful like this. All fucked out for me, honey.” Hazel did as you had begged for, her pointer and middle fingers were now pumping inside of you.

Her hair, too, was frizzing up beautifully from the humid air that had been filling the room. Her chest and cheeks had a gorgeous pink hue to the pale skin from the lust. Her lips and chin were coated with your arousal. How could she be complimenting you when she looked like she came straight out of porno magazine?

“Really? I’m the beautiful one when you look how,” you pant in disbelief, “you do? Fuck, Haze.”

In response to this flirtation, Hazel adjusted so that she was face-to face with you once again and pressed her lips to yours. You moan softly against her at the taste of your own slick on her swollen lips. Hazel’s fingers curled into you to hear those moans that she could have on repeat if it was possible. You pulled away to keep your lips ghosting over one another to breathe heavy moans into your mouths.

“How do I look, hmm?” She taunted, her eyes flickering all around the features of your face.

You whine, trying to kiss Hazel again to avoid answering. She just pulled back, curling her fingers against your g-spot teasingly to purposely drive you insane. You were so fucking close and she’s asking you this now?

And as if things couldn’t go more awry, you hear a rather loud knock on the door.

“Hazel! Is everything alright in there?”

Hazel’s movements freeze for a moment as the realization sets in that her mom is just on the other side of the door. You glance at the door than at Hazel who was heavily breathing along with you.

“Yeah, mom, why? I’m just doing…” Hazel glances at you and smirks for a moment. You roll your eyes as you know she wanted to say your name as a joke. “Homework. Just studying right now.”

Waiting for a response from her mother, Hazel resumed the thrusts of her fingers. She even picked up the pace of her thrusts and you knew it was because of this thrill of almost getting caught. Fuck, and it really wasn’t helping your attraction to her.

You scrunched up your brows at the pressure building in your abdomen as you force the moans itching at your throat back. Hazel had this lustful glint in her eye as she watched your hips sputter as she knew you were so close to cumming. She could feel how much you were clenching and hear the soft ‘please’ and her name falling from your lips.

“Okay, well, I swore I heard someone else in there. Is there someone else in there?”

You almost felt bad for Mrs. Callahan as you were getting finger-fucked by her daughter while she was just on the other side of the door. Almost.

Okay, you didn’t give a fuck.

“Yeah, a friend. She’s helping me study for Mr.G’s final exam.” Hazel borderline shouts back before leaning down to kiss at the underside of your jaw.

“You’re doing so good for me. You’re gonna cum, pretty girl?” You nod, eyes watering from how good she felt and not trusting yourself to speak at the moment. You were whispering and begging for her to make you cum, the build-up becoming overwhelming.

“Did you guys want anything to eat? I can go and get some pizza?”

“Yeah, mom. Sounds good. Pepperoni is great. Okay, love you. Bye.” Hazel rushes out her words.

You reach your hand down to rub at your sensitive clit as Hazel pumps her fingers harder. Hazel moves your hand away to replace your hand with her own, wanting to make you cum on her own. You let out a shaky moan, a string of ‘please’ leaving your lips.

Your hand reaches down in between your legs to grip onto her wrists, trying to push her hands away from the overstimulation. Your back arches and chases the feeling over how hard you were cumming. Your thighs tried to clamp her hands still but she didn’t stop whatsoever, wanting your cum to lather her fingers.

“Haze, please, please. Fuck, right there.” You beg through dry sobs, cumming quicker than you could comprehend.

Your head went numb and your body went weak as shivers ran down your spine. Hazel watched as your hips eagerly chased the high, stuttering as you were slowly coming down from the orgasm.

“There you go, baby. Just breathe. You did so good. So, so good, yeah.” Hazel leaned down to kiss your soft lower stomach, slowly removing her fingers from your cunt.

Hazel refrained from groaning at the sight of your climax dripping out and lathering her fingers and rings. Her main focus was taking care of you right now.

“I need a nap,” you huffed as you raised an arm to cover your forehead.

Hazel chuckled softly, leaning down to place sweet and gentle kisses to your cheeks and then lips. “How about you pee for now and then we could take a nap? I don’t want you to get a UTI or something.”

You nod, agreeing with her. You take a deep breath in and out as you sit up slowly. Hazel watched you carefully as she continued to caress your sides and thighs.

“You have a private bathroom right?” You wonder as you stare at the door you entered from.

If Hazel’s mom was still home, you couldn’t fathom having to interact with her after what had just happened in this room.

“Yeah, it's right next to the closet over there.” Hazel jerked her head to a door that looked identical to the entrance to her room.

You nod as you should’ve seen that earlier. A sudden silence fell over the two of you; almost tense. Do you kiss her? Do you hug her? Do you ‘thank her’? No, thanking her would be so fucking weird.

Just get up and pee, you freak, jesus.

Hazel watched you move your straps back onto your shoulders and covered your tits that she wished she had spent more time on. You get up from the bed, turning your head to flash her a gentle smile, muttering that you would be right back.

“I’ll be here.” Hazel grins, pointing to her bed.

You open the bathroom door with a soft blush, shutting the door behind you. You locked eyes with your reflection and raised a hand to cover your mouth in shock. Your mascara was smudged under your eyes and your lips were a bit puffy and red. And god, your hair was a mess.

You looked fucked out.

You were fucked out.

A part of you wanted to take a photo and send it to Isabel to show her it worked a lot better than you thought it would go. You shook your head and quickly used the bathroom, washing your hands. You dry them off on a towel, trying to keep your composure from flashes of what had just happened.

You adjust the skirt and top to your dress, wiping underneath your eyes to smoothen out the black mascara. You swing open the door to see Hazel sitting on her bed on her phone. She looked up as she noticed the bathroom light turn off and how you were standing silently to yourself.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” She turned her phone off and tossed it to the side, her eyes trailing up and down your body.

“Mhmm. Yeah, just tired, honestly,” you reassure her as you sit down next to her on the mattress.

“Do you want to take that nap now?” Hazel smiled kindly, turning her head to look at the head pillows.

You couldn’t help but smile at her too. Why did she have to be so attentive? Not that you were complaining but god, you couldn’t believe she was even real.

“Maybe not nap but I wanna lay with you, if that’s okay?” Your tone was hesitant as you didn’t know what you guys were going to be after this.

“Like cuddle?” Hazel’s tone was hopeful and kind.

You nod and the next thing you know, Hazel is holding you close with your legs intertwined. One of your hands was on her chest, twiddling with her necklaces while Hazel’s hands were rubbing up and down your back. In the midst of the domestic silence, you pressed gentle kisses onto her neck and she reciprocated the pecks onto your temple.

You could stay here forever.

“Hey Haze?” You murmur onto her skin, watching goosebumps rise to her skin.

Hazel hummed in response.

“Are we, like, dating now?” You avoid looking her in the eye, anxiety clouding your thoughts.

“I have to take you on an actual date but yeah, I want to be.” Hazel shrugged her shoulders, acting cool about it but you could pick up by her tone that she was being genuine.

You purse your lips to hold back the giddy smile, snuggling further into her chest. Hazel cupped the side of your face, pressing her thumb underneath your jaw to tilt your head up and capture your lips into a gentle kiss.

After inhaling the pizza that Mrs. Callahan had bought for you guys, you impulsively decided to spend the night. You and Hazel lazily made out and whispered in the late of the night tangled in her sheets.

The next morning at school, you and Hazel walked in side by side. Your pinkies were just barely brushing against each other and you were wearing one of Hazel’s sweaters with your jeans from before you changed into your seduction dress.

Isabel was waiting by your locker to hear all the details as you refused to text her last night after what had happened. She was talking to Josie, smiling as she listened attentively to whatever her girlfriend was telling her about.

You look at Hazel with a soft smile as you approach Isabel and Josie.

“Ignore how they will act when she sees us together,” you warn Hazel quietly.

Hazel nods, making eye contact with Josie who was already sporting a knowing grin. You deeply inhale as you stop in front of the couple.

“Morning guys.” You politely say, sending Isabel a warning glare.

Her eyes were locked on Hazel behind you, a smile forming on her freckled face. Josie and Isabel both mutter ‘mornings’ back, eyes never leaving Hazel who just stared back with a tight-lipped grin.

“So, you two are coming to school together? How exciting.” Josie bit her lip cheekily as she rocked side to side, the smile never leaving her face.

“Well, you know, I hate polluting the air so saving the environment by just riding together,” you turn around to face Josie, tilting your head with a smile.

Isabel nodded. “Right, so how was that study session guys?”

You and Hazel locked eyes with flushed cheeks as you could still feel her lips on your body. She left a permanent mark on your psyche. Hazel looked down with a smirk, shrugging her shoulders to play it off as if it was a minor occurrence.

“Actually, it was very informative. Exploring lots of new things about women,” Hazel glanced over at you then at Josie and Isabel with a confident grin.

Your eyes widened for a moment, nodding along to her words. You glance at Hazel, wanting to kick her in the shin but you just continue to add on the conversation.

“Yup. Ladies learning about ladies. I love feminism.” You give them a thumbs up.

Isabel’s eyes squinted as she glanced between you and Hazel. Before she could add on another comment that would make you feel even more tense, the bell rang for your first period.

“Shit, I gotta go. I forgot my first period is on the other side of the school.” Hazel rushed out, tightening and adjusting her grip on her bag.

“Oh, I’ll see you later, okay?” You turn to her with a small smile.

You tried not to sound too clingy as you were already missing her presence. Hazel reciprocated the smile before leaning in to connect your lips into a soft kiss. You close your eyes and almost forget where you guys were until you heard a soft ‘oh my god’ that came from Josie.

“Try not to miss me too much, baby,” she mutters against your lips.

You nod, feeling like your brain was short-circuiting. When Hazel pulled away, she turned to the other pair, raising a hand to wave them bye.

“I’ll see you guys.” Hazel walks away with a confident pep in her step as she rounds the corner of the hallway.

Yeah, you were done for. Thank God for Mr.G’s class.

taglist: @ptolemaeacles <33 for you

#hazel callahan x reader #hazel callahan #bottoms movie #sapphic #wlw #hazel is cocky as fuck

[chrollohearttags]

commissions corner • the winning team

your boyfriend finds out your old flame is his new rival on the field and makes sure you don’t get wandering eyes for him….anyone else.

content warning and themes: black fem reader, college au, football player reiner, thigh riding, small argument and him being jealous, spit play, slapping, rough sex, oral, dirty talk, choking, overstimulation, full nelson, unprotected sex, pet names, fingering, breeding

word count: 8.4K

📝: this was a piece commissioned by @spiralflood and I cannot thank you enough for entrusting this to me and letting me write this fic for you. I do hope you enjoy it. Thank you so much for your support and patience. I apologize that this has taken so long but I hope that it was worth the wait and I look forward to working on your second piece.

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“Welcome back to the college playoff, folks! This has been one of the most intense matchups we’ve seen in this season thus far.”

“I have to agree, Jim. We’re seeing professional levels of playing here tonight. Especially from the quarterback. Braun is playing as if he has something to prove here..ten points in the first quarter..”

And they had no idea how true said sentiment was. As the announcers spouted off data and statistics about the game that was transpiring, onlookers and listeners alike tuned in to get the latest updates on the biggest one of the season. Homecoming. An annual ceremony..almost religious experience in the college town (y/n) (l/n) and so many other bright scholars called home. Including the illustrious football team’s star quarterback and your boyfriend of three years, Reiner Braun. A burly, stackhouse of a man who was as gentle as he was strong. He had a kind heart and iron clad determination. It was just a few of the redeemable qualities you loved about him. Including the fact that he held an innate obsession with you. Not in the sense that he was predatory or dangerous about it. But he was absolutely infatuated with everything about you. From your warm, loving personality to your equally kind heart. A lady who worked hard and always extended such compassion to everyone. Not to mention your beauty. In his eyes, you were truly a once in a lifetime type of woman. A rarity and any man, lucky enough to find you was blessed beyond relief. Hence why, he went above and beyond to prove his devotion.

“And even on the field, he’s a loverboy. Braun going over to the bleachers to steal a good luck kiss from his girl. How sweet.”

as you diligently cheered him on from the stands; seated front row in a plaid skirt, black turtleneck and platform heels..tights hugging your on your thighs, those broad shoulders and blonde hair would come jogging towards you..a giant smile on his face and hands clutching his shoulder pads. His signature white, khaki and red uniform for the Warriors stained in brown and green spots from the tumbling around. Running plays and colliding with others who possess equally brute strength. It was all in the fun of football and his love for the sport. But if there were one thing that Reienr adored more than anything, it was you. Rushing back over, he’d meet you halfway for a searing peck, one captured by the television cameras who were filming for ESPN..shortly before cutting to enthused cheerleaders, shaking their pom-poms. Everything was going on around him and he was solely focusing on you.

“Hey papa. You’re doing so good out there..I’m so proud of you!”

his face flush with his cheeks burning red once you complimented him. Truthfully, it was the only encouragement he needed. That team was as good as finished as long as he had his number one fan there to cheer him on. “Thanks, sugar. I’m glad you came to see me..I know how busy you’ve been with your dissertation and all comin’ up..” “Please, I wouldn’t miss it for anything, Rei Rei.” squishing his cheeks between your hands in a cutesy manner as you kissed the top of his forehead. It may have been a bit embarrassing if some of his teammates caught him but he could care less. He was all in when it came to his lady. However, it would seem that he wasn’t the only one with wandering eyes..just as the two of you shared your precious moment, another player would wander up, clutching his own shoulder pads and parading around with somewhat of a cocky smirk plastered across his face. He obviously was on the opponent’s side..donning a blue, white and silver uniform; akin to the Dallas Cowboys but adorn with a shield insignia. He was gnawing at what seemed to be an old piece of gum before spitting it to the ground and nearing Reiner.

“Well well…look at you, Brauny. You never told me you had a girlfriend..she’s cute.”

the culprit’s name?

“What the hell do you want, Jaeger? We’re opponents and we’re damn sure not friends so I can’t understand why you’re talking to me.” “Woah, calm down! I’m just making a lil’ friendly conversation during our break. We’re out here to have a good game..I know we’re rivals and all but no need to get your jock strap in a bunch, dude. Stop taking shit so seriously.” Eren Jaeger, the Titans’ wide receiver. He was infamous for his fast speed and countless returns. In this season alone, he had scored nearly two hundred points by his lonesome. He was set to become a first round draft pick upon graduation at this rate and he was on his way to being in the big leagues. However, he is just as well known for his less than savory attitude. In truth, he was a cocky son of a bitch with a mouth slicker than oil and a very obnoxious aura that just exudes arrogance. If he couldn’t fight so well, he’d probably end up with his ass beat everyday. Of course, the ladies didn't seem to mind or care all too much, because he was so handsome and that they may have been the only ones he treated with a shred of decency and kindness. Which was only done so long enough to get in their pants and after that, they were discarded to the wayside with everyone else. His teammates could barely even stomach him and Reiner, needless to say, was his biggest hater. Not so much for his reputation or popularity among the girls but his narcissistic personality. Football was Reiner’s biggest love in life next to you and when someone desecrated it with their selfish disregard for their teammates and no respect for his opponents, he could never like his ass! Releasing a deep sigh, pinching his nose, Reiner was turning to face him and tell him to kick rocks but it was unbeknownst to him, as he did so..Eren would surprise you both.

“Maybe you should start taking shit seriously. You’re such an annoying—“ you were in the midst of trying to calm your man down, patting at his chest to stop as this was super unbecoming of his gentle and docile demeanor. Tonight was supposed to be his night and you’d be damned if some insufferable asshole ruined it! However, when the brunette nightmare stepped closer and all but dismissed Reiner with a hand to his face; fixating his emerald eyes on you..(y/n) all but froze in your tracks. It was as if you were looking a ghost directly in the face. He was like a relic from your past…a reminder of the nonsense you used to put up and deal with before finding the best thing to ever happen to you.

“I knew I recognized you from somewhere..God, I could never forget a face so pretty. Damn, you sure look good, (y/n). Or should I say..(nickname used strictly by Eren).” Eliciting sudden shock and fear in you. Fear that Reiner was going to kill this dude and get himself ejected from the game for off-field misconduct. The thing you were most concerned about were not his attempts to drum up the past as to get underneath your man’s skin but to keep maintaining order. Because this was exactly what he wanted. See, as someone who was always so used to having their way, it ate Jaeger to his core that there were two things Reiner had that he never could: a championship and you. He was an S-tier player with a grade A rank but he had yet to gain a trophy, hence why he wanted your boyfriend off of his game so that he could hopefully get his team to victory. He was merely the wide receiver so he was limited in what he could do to ensure victory. That was mainly up to the quarterback, but if he snuffed out the opposition’s, it would make things much easier. When it came to you, it ate him alive that this brown nosing, goody two shoes bastard was the one getting to have all of that and had you acting all saint-like. Knowing damn well that wasn’t who you were!

“What is he talking about?” “N-nothing.” Because the truth was..Eren had you first. He was the first one to truly get you out of your shell and those clothes! You lost your virginity to him right after high school and after a couple times together, he had all but awoken your demon. In essence? You had become somewhat of a freak and after a while, he couldn’t even tame you. In his words, you were ‘the best pussy he’s ever had.’ Knowing that you were some nerd who kept your head in the books only to then give him head under the table was insane. Even more so with this wholesome image you were so desperate to portray. What he didn’t bet on was for you to lose interest after you found out he had multiple women on his roster. He figured since he was the one to take your innocence and corrupt you, you’d be super attached but that wasn’t the case. Your self esteem was a lot higher than what he bet on and it ate that prick alive to know that you moved on so easily to someone who appreciated you. However, he was betting on the fact that you had never told Reiner about your past and how you let him fuck you while his best friend filmed it or that he had explored your body in ways that the little farmer boy only wished he had. You probably played coy; acting all shy and sweet. You were a slut, his first and he had that trump card if nothing else.

“C’mon, (nickname)..don’t be like that. Share with the class. Tell our sweet Rei Rei how you used to kiss me just like that..”

letting the words linger on with a bit of a flare to them..licking over those pouty lips as his gaze wavered with flashbacks of you two together plaguing his mind. However, all Reiner could see was red and it was then that you wished this little ten minute intermission would hurry up and finish already before things got out of hand. But he had to finish putting the nail in the coffin!..

“Of course…that was after you topped me, right? Had that lil’ throat nice and trained, isn’t that right, baby?—“ and it was then that your boyfriend lost all semblance of control and lunged towards him, jacking Eren up by his shoulder pads. Luckily, everyone seemed to be preoccupied so it gave you time to rush over and defuse the situation and pry him off of this dumbass. Of course, he didn’t give a shit, he had gotten the exact reaction he had hoped for. “Rei, Rei! Stop it! Please!—“ but he was already too irate. “Shut up and stay out of this, (y/n)! I don’t know who the fuck this jackass thinks he is but I’m about to beat the hell out of him.” Just in the nick of time, some of his teammates spotted the situation and decided to help by prying the two apart and a couple of the Titans did the same. He was too good of a guy to squander his opportunities for an evil soul like this. “You proved your point, Eren. Now leave and get the fuck out of here.” And unbothered as always, he’d take his leave and bow out. “I’m sure we’ll meet again, my love.” Laughing as he walked away with his equally as stupid homeboys. Once your man realized he had not only lost self control but hurt your feelings, he quickly simmered down and took a few breaths. Grasping the guard rails, Reiner banged his hand against it..head lowered and heart thudding.

“Look, Rei. I’m sorry, I don’t know what—“

“Don’t worry about it, alright? It’s okay…I’m sorry for yelling at you. But we’ll talk about this later.”

even with frustration and anger riddling his whole body, he still found it in his heart to show you compassion and kiss you on the forehand, telling you that he loved you before being whisked off by his teammates. It was time to resume the game and for him to focus. His teammates had to give him a bit of a pep talk on the way back to the field, in hopes he’d calm down before their hothead coach spotted it and benched him. They had too much riding on this game for unchecked emotions to ruin it. You’d surely never hear the end of it if they lost because of this. Maybe not from Rei but the town would surely be talking! For right now, all you could do was watch and wait..and Rei? It was time to channel that energy into the game and leave it all on the fifty yard line!..

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the game resumed as scheduled and Reiner seemed to be a bit more grounded after that, as well as play! Once the third quarter kicked off and he got out there, it was an entirely different game! Where the Titans held a five point lead before the second half, that all but changed because he told the coach they were implementing a new technique..one that would involve knocking Eren’s dumb ass silly. Tackling him from his blind spot and combatting that super speed. Although he was as fast as he was, he’d never see it coming. And Reiner wanted to witness it. Running play after play, the Warriors ran roughshod on the team and especially their wide receiver..knocking him to the ground a couple times, which severely upset the pretty boy player. If there was one thing Eren did not take kindly to, it was defeat. He hated to lose in any form or capacity. On or off the field. The fact that he was being outclassed by some country bumpkin asshole from the sticks and he had your pretty ass cheering him on to boot was driving him insane. Sportsmanship be damned, he was going to get his lick back! Just then, he’d circle the sideline and as the camera panned to running down the field, he’d blow a kiss in your direction and at that exact moment, the lens captured Reiner’s reaction! Needless to say, it wasn’t one of happiness but utter shock and anger. His rage could barely be sated at this point and the normally gentle giant was ready to tear that little twig into pieces. He was such a snobby, arrogant prick and tonight, he had gone too far. In order to keep himself from losing control, he paced the sidelines and grasped a paper cup, dousing himself in some of the liquid. “Hey, Braun. Get your shit together man..don’t let that asshole make you lose your cool. You know (y/n) doesn’t want him and you shouldn’t let his childish antics get under your skin. You blow this and you can kiss the rest of your scholarship and future goodbye. Don’t do this, man. Trust me.” His teammate and quite possibly someone who normally would not have been so poised, talked him off the deep end. Porco Galliard, the Warriors’ fellow wide receiver and an equal hater of the cocky player. He and Reiner weren’t exactly the closest but they had an equal hatred of Eren and his crew. They were tired of him but if they managed to keep their cool, he was as good as defeated. Even so, Reiner’s mind was elsewhere and obviously checked out.

“Make it through the game, huh? That’s all?” Clutching his shoulder pads, Reiner nodded profusely as if he were trying to reassure himself. Suddenly, the whistle would blow for both sides to return to the field and he’d rush back on the grass alongside Porco and they’d resume the rest of the quarter, heading into the final one. If all he had to do was get through the rest of this without strangling him, then he had to be the bigger person and keep a level head. But once he finished up…

all bets were off and he was going to handle his business for sure. In a way that you or no one else would expect!

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another hour or so passed before the final play was called and the scores were announced..the crowd waited with baited breath, clutching their chests in the cold temperatures as the star of this game shined once more. “He’s going for it…AND HE SCORES! THE WARRIORS WIN SIXTY TWO TO FIFTY ONE WITH A HUGE UPSET BY BRAUN! Let me tell ya’ something folks, we have not seen playing of this caliber in a very long time.”

“Yeah, Jim. I’m not sure what pivotal shift Braun underwent after the second half but he was on an entirely different level. What an exciting game!”

excitement and celebration ensued throughout the stadium and the city. Cheers erupted in the stands, outside in the parking lot where tailgaters listened on and at the local bars and restaurants packed full of fans. The long, drawn out game had finally concluded and needless to say, everyone was ecstatic; ready to celebrate!…everyone except Reiner that was. At least in the way that the rest of his teammates and the town were planning on. Whilst both sides of football players shook hands, gave congratulations and even hugs, for those that were not at odds on personal matters, Reiner couldn’t even be vexed. His fellow brethren were attempting to give him his flowers but he was too busy darting back towards the bleachers..making a beeline straight for one person. Despite his loss, Eren was still as smug as ever and completely unphased. Because truthfully, he didn’t care. He didn’t care about the game, his teammates or anything else..already, the dancers on the sidelines, majorettes and cheerleaders were already flocking to come help ‘console’ the wide receiver. As far as he was concerned, he’d still won. Living rent free in Reiner’s head, crawling underneath your skin and quite possibly causing problems in your perfect little relationship..what more could he ask for?! Meanwhile, (y/n) was waiting on the sidelines now, having rushed to the field, the second the final score was announced to await your man’s arrival. But alas, you weren’t greeted with the reaction you were expecting..the normally jovial, sweet Reiner with his awkward smile and adorable laugh was stoic and stone faced as ever. Not even speaking a word as he neared you. For someone who had just won a super important game with such a wide score margin…he seemed rather upset!

“Rei! You did it! I’m so proud of—“

the words could barely even escape your mouth before you’d feel yourself tugged towards the opposite sides of the bleachers and away from the roaring crowd. Everyone seemed to be far too busy with their own nonsense to pay you two any attention. His larger hand cusped around your own as he drug you along away from potentially prying eyes. Where was he taking you? Your guess was as good as any..but soon enough, you’d be finding out in a major way.

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page break

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“I just don’t understand why you’re so upset, Rei. I already told you. He means nothing to me. Never had, never will. Besides, it was long before I met you…I didn’t know he’d be such an asshole.”

“It’s not that, sugar. I just..damnit, why’d ya’ have to sleep with him or all people, ya know? I’ve known him for as long as I could remember and he’s the worst. You could’ve done so much better..” Meanwhile, you two had made your way back to the off campus apartment you shared not too far from the college. Living together made situations like this a bit awkward..despite being upset with one another, you couldn’t exactly stray off and cool down when needed. Luckily, you guys did have your own separate bedrooms for studying and storing your own stuff. It wasn’t for a lack of love or care in the slightest. Sometimes you just needed your own space. Too bad, he wasn’t hearing any of that tonight! Taking an Uber back to the complex, the two of you stared out of the window, trying not to cause a scene or argue. But the second you hit your living room, the gloves were off and he let all of those hard feelings be known. You attempted to give him the silent treatment for his outburst and erratic behavior but alas, here he was; his big six foot four, two hundred eighty pound ass planted on your bed..surrounded by plushies and Hello Kitty merchandise.

“Well hindsight is a bitch, isn’t she? Trust me, had I known what type of person he was, I wouldn’t have even looked in his direction..” gradually, you’d make your way onto the bed and drape your arms around his broad shoulders, in an attempt to soften your sweetie pie up. It wasn’t in him to act in such a way or even become jealous but something about Eren truly unsettled his spirit. Guys like him deserved nothing but the worst and they damn sure didn’t deserve to have a queen like you underneath his body. The thought of him even touching you disgusted Reiner to his core. Honestly, how could he have possibly ever satisfied someone like you? The mental picture alone made him want to strangle that asshole. But you had a far better solution for his frustrations and a much more suitable outlet for his anger..your body. Tracing a finger along his shoulders and along his shoulder blade, you leaned down to kiss him as you remained draped across his back, you’d begin to subtly place kisses along his jawline and jugular, hoping to make that scowl on his face turn to a smile soon. And it would seem that your little ruse was working like a charm.

“Seriously, baby..do you really wanna spend one of the biggest nights of your football career fighting..over that asshole nonetheless? I mean..you won the playoffs. Don’t you think we should be..celebrating instead?” Proposing as you dredged the tip of your tongue across his earlobe. Leaving a trail of butterfly pecks along the way. Your words and gentle touch melted into him like butter on toast. You were right, there was no need to concern yourselves with the past. Tonight was all about your man and his victory..so you were going to ensure that he got his proper congratulations. But he too had plans of his own. Plans to ensure that you kept true to that statement about not letting him back into your life or thoughts because he was going to ensure that he was the only thing on that pretty little mind of yours.

turning around to face you, Reiner would merely scoff before narrowing his eyes to meet your own. “Yeah, I guess you have a point..” With a smirk on those pouty pink lips, he’d slowly bridge the gap between you two before initiating a searing kiss. Sloppy pecks ensued with his tongue swirling around inside of your mouth; flickering against one another to take control. The moment had quickly shifted from accumulated tension to pure unadulterated lust. As quiet as it was, you had been holding back your carnal desire for him all night. Watching him sprint up and down that field…his tongue wagging as he panted from the heat. Oh, how you wished it were between your thighs. So much so, you had to squeeze them together just to fein off the thought. And when his jersey came off after the game…removing the gear for a shower and you’d catch a glimpse of all the jarring battle scars he had acquired during the game, you wanted to kiss and brush each one. But more so, you wanted to add to the collection. Screaming his name and scratching that back. Perhaps though, the moment to turn you on the most was when he decided to lash out at that asshole Eren. Ready to risk his entire football career and go to war behind his baby..it was enough to make you rip him out of his jersey and fuck him right there! Eventually, this impromptu makeout season would escalate to him pulling you onto his lap and allowing you to straddle it as the sensual kissing continued. With a beefy bicep wrapped around your back, Reiner held you in a place and in one fell swoop, he’d begin to raise your shirt and bra.

“Rei….‘need you so bad. Damn..”

and he was more than obliged to grant your request. Especially when you moaned his name so delicately and sweetly. The thought of saying another man’s drove him insane and he knew he couldn’t play around when it came to establishing that you were all his. Grunting into the crook of your neck whilst he was suckling on it and your collarbone; nibbling gently on your ear as well…

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll give you whatever you want… keep grinding on me..just like that.” Releasing a soft mutter in your ear. In a matter of moments, the two of you were a tangle of limbs. Feeling one another up and gradually tearing each other out of your clothes. But you’d soon come to see that he wasn’t much in the way of being gentle tonight. Much like his movements on the field, he needed that rough and tumble, that aggression and fire that had been harboring whilst he was out there playing. Watching you cheer from the sidelines..those breasts bouncing up and down as you gleefully shouted his name. That outfit..so innocent yet elicited the most salacious of thoughts from his mind. He thought of how he longed to hike that little plaid skirt up and bend you over in it..hoist that turtleneck and grope those juicy tits underneath. All very perverse but justified in his mind. Not to mention, that asshole’s comments had piqued his interest. He tended to take anything he spewed from his raggedy mouth with a grain of salt but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want to see if you were every bit of the nympho he painted you out to be.

now spun with your back facing him, Reiner allowed you to continue straddling his thigh before tilting your head back and shoving his tongue between your lips. Thrashing around and swirling your own as he invaded your mouth. “Mmph!” Whimpering so sweetly whilst you exchanged those sloppy kisses. With a smaller hand pressed to his stubble ridden cheek, (y/n) shamelessly flicked your tongue around, making him huff lightly. It was apparent that you seemed to be enjoying yourself by the obvious damp spot in the seat of your panties..rubbing against the newly exposed flesh of his thigh. Meanwhile, he had worked the bottom hem of your black shirt up your torso and soon, his massive, veiny hands took the place of your lace bra; those beautiful, supple breasts falling from the double D cups in one fell swoop. He’d pinch your nipples lightly at first, just to see how your body reacted to the sensation. “Right there, pretty girl…go slow.” Instructing you to falter your speed so that you didn’t come too quickly. Which had happened in the past. He knew how sensitive you could be when it came to sex. How the slightest brush to your little clit could send you over the edge or how a few strokes could have you leaking like a faucet. It were these little details that Eren or anyone else would never know. The small things that only your true lover could see…he was the only man you needed and ever would!

“Rei….oh fuck.” Those sweet cries spilling from your mouth when he decided to shove two of his fingers inside of it and allowed your saliva to drench them.

“I know…” arrogantly declaring with his eyes fixated on you. Slowly fucking your jaws with sweet nothings being whispered against your lips…eventually, those same fingers trailed down your exposed tummy and into your panties. Without breaking eye contact once, Reiner merely chewed his lower lip; smirking whilst working those digits around your swollen clit. He could tell that you had been holding back all night..refraining from letting lust overtake you but since you were now all alone, you were free to do whatever you wanted. He looked so good in that uniform, all you could envision was ripping it off and getting on your knees for him. But now that didn’t have to be a far off reality. At the moment though, he had control and he knew exactly what to do: “Hey, open your legs..” so that he could maneuver around and slide those fingers inside of you. Once he did so, you instantly gasped and burrowed yourself down on them. Working you over with his other hand planted to the back of your neck as security. He didn’t need you looking, thinking or worrying about anything else right now. “That’s right, focus on me, sweetheart. Focus on riding these fingers…” all you needed to do was be his good little slut. Sounds of smacking wetness began to fill the room along with the sloppy kissing that had been ensuing for a while now. The remnants of his flavor are heavy on your tongue. By now, you had become a puddle between those thick thighs and would only become wetter as time lingered on. The more he teased and tousled that sweet little cunt, the more you panted for him..whimpered his name, the stronger his desire to absolutely ravage you grew. When you’d grow too needy, he’d quell your yelps by shushing you..knowing it was futile. “Does it feel good, baby? Tell me…” “…y—yes! So good..” answering almost immediately with no hesitation. His fingers raked along the small of your back, snaking up to eventually meet your backside, which he gave an ample squeeze.

akin to a little pup, your tongue wagged; dripping with saliva and your eyes glossed over in a dumbed out expression. The sweetest part was that he was merely getting started and you were already so needy for him. But the sentiment was the exact same if he were being completely honest. That much was apparent by the growing bulge seen through the sheath of his gray sweats. Becoming larger and harder by the second. “You’re so wet, darling…what’s got you all worked up? Hmm?” Questioning rhetorically with a smug grin on his face as he bridged the distance between your faces; increasing the intensity between your gazes. He wanted to see every reaction, hear every filthy moan and mutter, all the nasty things you wanted him to do..he just wanted to know that this was all his!

“Go ahead, tell me…what’s on that pretty lil’ mind of yours? Maybe ya’ wanna tell me something. Like what you want me to do to you..I’m all ears.”

he needed that confession more than anything right now. If for no other reason than to stroke his own ego. A little selfish but every time he imagined you getting all nasty with that scum, the urge to one up him grew stronger. If he made you a bad girl, he was going to make you his little whore. By the end of the night, you were going to be doing tricks that would make a pornstar jealous. “Need you to fuck me, Rei…need you in me so bad..” uttering in a soft, broken whimper. Not one of sadness but pure overstimulation. You were mere seconds away from coming and if he didn’t pull those fingers out soon, you were going to turn his legs into a waterslide. Instead though, he’d have you get in on the fun and pull out that throbbing erect as you spoke. Tugging at that elastic waistband, you’d free his cock from behind its confines and slowly jerk him off. His compression shirt painted to those chiseled abs and steel like pecs, even catching glimpses of those stiff nipples through them. Right now, you were at one another’s mercy. One wanting the other to crack first so you could give into those shared desires.

“I think ya’ can do a little better than that. C’mon, darling.. Tell me all the nasty shit you send me in those texts when I’m in practice. All the things you say on those sexy lil’ videos when I'm in class that you don’t want anyone else to know about. When it’s just us..the side I only I get to see..” whispering the last sentence with a grumble that made your legs quiver..emphasizing the point that he had you wholeheartedly. Simultaneously, his pace increased and he’d begin fingering you even faster. You peered over your exposed breasts and tummy to see his hands moving rapidly; thrashing around inside of you. It was clear that you were about to combust. But he’d let you reach your peak, with only one condition..

“Say it and I’ll give ya’ what you need.” And at that moment, you didn’t bother to hold back. Rutting your hips, (y/n) ground yourself on his hand and release sharp breaths along with those perverse commands.

“I need that dick so fucking bad…fuck me, Rei! Please…make me come all over that shit.” sucking your teeth as you spouted the words with conviction. You’d rattle off about how you wanted him to not hold back and to fuck you with all that pent up aggression and anger he obviously harbored from the game. And he was more than thrilled to oblige. Letting that smirk creep across his face, he’d abruptly halt and withdraw his fingers…only long enough to toss you onto the mattress and pin your legs back. He’d make haste in removing those panties along with the rest of your clothing, with the exception of those thigh high socks that he thought looked so sexy. They gave you this innocuous look that he just loved. From there, he’d shed his own threads and hover above you. Taking you by your calves, he’d prop them wide open and hold you by the backs of your knees to expose that dripping warmth to the cool air and himself. It was blatantly obvious that he was just as ready by the way his cock twitched if its own volition and he splayed it across your slit. Those fat lips and clit enveloping him like a warm blanket once he slid it across. Teasing and tapping that head against your swollen bud. You’d peer down in anticipation as he shoved that shaft in his palm and stroked it; letting precum seep on your folds as he prepared to enter you. Your heat and tiny hole practically oozing for him. “You ready, baby? Ready for all this dick?” Nodding your head profusely in response as you bit down on your bottom lip. “Yes! Fuck me, baby..” with that, Reiner leaned forward and placed a hand on the headboard to steady himself, allowing you to hold your own legs open..seconds later, he was inside of you and it was the best damn feeling in the world. Better than any trophy or touchdowns…this was all the prize he needed. Sucking his teeth, he’d sit there for just a moment to gather his bearings. A perfect fit if you had to say so..the way you so easily conformed to his shape and took him with ease, he never wanted to pull out. Even so, he’d begin to move and find his pace, slowly thrusting up into you.

“Fuck…this pussy’s so warm, baby. Might not get me to pull out tonight. Shit..” admitting as he glared into your doe brown eyes; unable to stare at your pretty face for too long because he’d end up nutting too quickly. But he paced himself and started out slow. That thick, long cock stretching you open and causing you to cream with only a few thrusts in. The two of you watched it slide in and out, batting your eyes and whimpering with each one. It felt so fucking good, you didn’t know what to do. “Fill me up, baby..nut all in this pussy. I don’t care.” Whereas he normally resorts to splattering it all over your tits or plump ass but tonight, you were going to be stuffed with every drop of that warm seed. So Reiner continued feeding you those deep, long strokes..even speeding up the tempo to really get you acclimated. “You take me so good, sweetheart. I fucking love it..how nasty you get f’r me. You’re gonna let me see all of that tonight, right? Are you gonna be a good lil’ slut for daddy?” And the answer was a given. But if he didn’t want to take your word for it, all he had to do was keep dicking you down like this and you’d get nasty in ways he’d never seen.

“Keep going…fuck me just like that and you’ll see for yourself, baby.”

challenge was as good as accepted. With your arms coiling your legs, hands reaching around to stroke your clit..(y/n) massaged that swollen clit and egged him on. You’d tell him how big that dick was and how amazing it felt. Even telling him to go as deep as he wanted, until you felt it in your stomach. You didn’t want him to stop until these sheets were soaked! Which weren’t just says to inflate his head. Reiner had a bit of a praise kink and you knew if you said the right things to make him tick, you’d be crawling out of here. And just as you suspected, it worked like a charm! A minute or so later, he was jolting you around, pumping you full of cock, so much so, you were practically impaled on it. Those big tits swaying freely. “You fucking this pussy so good, daddy..damn.” Whining as you clawed at the backs of your legs. Looking for any bit of comfort in these brutal strokes. Smacking noises ensued and a puddle of frothy white warmth spilled from that little hole.

“I’m fucking you good, baby? That pussy creaming just for me…better than that asshole, right?” That much was obvious! By now, Reiner had taken the place of your hand and began massaging your bud with his thumb pad before roughly fucking up into you. It made him wonder just how long you could take this dick before you climaxed. He’d alternate his speeds just to toy with you; slowing down when you began to pulsate around his shaft and practically drill you into the mattress when you broke eye contact with him, which he hated. This was an entirely different side of your beloved Rei. One that was far more aggressive and a lot less forgiving. He didn’t have it in him at the moment to take it easy on you. You’d find yourself matching his energy and sucking on your teeth to take the brunt of the thrusts.

“Fuck him, focus on me…this is your pussy, right?” “It’s mine, all mine, baby…” “Prove it. Fuck me like you mean it. Do it.”

and with that order, he’d gladly follow. It was as if you had activated something inside of him. Sometimes, he needed that extra boost but once you got his engine going, there was no slowing down! Aggressively grunting into your ear, Reiner leaned down with his hand snaked around your throat, causing you to gasp as he restricted your air. Gasping and clawing at his abs as those strokes became a lot harsher, he’d swat you away with the opposite hand before slapping your left cheek. “You wanna touch something, rub that fucking clit..” commanding with nothing but pure lust behind those hazel eyes. You were trembling and only a mere matter of minutes from coming. But he didn’t seem to care. He wasn’t going to pull out, just as he said so if you wanted to do it, it’d be with him lodged inside of you. The silky fleshiness of that tight little cunt was something serious. Sticky, tight, wet and warm: a dangerous combination for a man. He loved no feeling more in this world than fucking the shit out of you! At this point, the headboard was banging against the wall and your neighbors were going to be pissed but he didn’t give a shit. He wanted the whole world to know who you belonged to. Your entrance was wrapped around him..the grip practically unreal and he was only able to make it halfway. For now that was..

“ ‘S too much! Rei…” crying out with a shrill whimper that only further fed his fire. Feeding you yet another heavy handed slap along with some intense kisses, Reiner shoved every inch he could muster inside of you. “I don’t give a fuck..take me. Make me fit.” Just then, his hand would coil your throat before leaning down to grimace in your face. “I said…make me fit. Open up.” Speaking for both your tight hole and mouth, which he filled with spit shortly after. Something that took you completely off guard. You wouldn’t label the sex between the two of you vanilla by any means but it wasn’t often that he exercised so much aggression. Fucking him was always so intimate….passionate and soft, but tonight, you were merely his to use. And there wasn’t a single complaint about it! You wanted him to see that side of you; to drudge it back out and let him know, it was for his pleasure only. Gritting your teeth, you’d eventually laugh and let your tongue wag around outside of your mouth in a breathy haze. You’d beg for more..asking him to feed you more saliva and deeper, rougher strokes until the bed began to quake! Your voices were so brash and loud, others may have suspected you were fighting. But it was nothing of the sort. Just fierce, explosive lovemaking between two equally obsessed partners who had something to prove.

“Right there, Rei! Fuck me, fuck me—AHH!” Belting out in a loud cry as you rapidly massaged your clit and brought forth your very first of many orgasms. Without so much as a warning, you wet up the entire lower half of his torso and cock..spraying a powerful stream of squirt juices all over that skin and that seemed to really light that dormant spark in his eyes. Watching you flood the sheets had him ready to taste it all for himself. “Wait, sweetheart. Don’t be stingy now…save some for me..” With your legs still trembling uncontrollably, he’d grasp both and part them to each side before diving head first in between. Your sensitive little clit was severely swollen..even so, that didn’t stop him from flicking his tongue around it and sucking on your delicate folds. Running his fingers throughout the thin membranes. Reiner left a few kisses on those beautiful pussy lips and inhaled the essence of your feminine scent in the process. He was so adamant on laying claim throughout every inch of your body tonight!

“Shiiit!” Exclaiming with a high pitched laugh, (y/n) attempted to place your hands on his scruffy blonde locks and shoulder blades in an attempt to push him away but to no avail. This was his and all for the taking. “Okaaay! You win...eating the fuck outta this pussy!” but with the same smugness he initially started with, Reiner continued devouring that cunt with all his might. Sucking and slurping, disrespectfully thrusting his tongue into you before spitting into those folds once more; shooting you a wink in response. “..told you I don’t play fair.” That’s when you felt yourself become full yet again, this time with two fingers..working themselves in and out. Having not too long experienced your climatic peak, you’d find yourself attempting to feign off another one. And he wasn’t going to let up until you were trickling down his chin. Trembling profusely, your eyes crossed and your chest heaved once more. In that moment, that impending pang in the bottom of your belly swelled until it could no longer be housed. His large, calloused hands gripping the innards of your thighs, pinning them to the sheets so that your only option was to grind yourself against his face. “That’s it, baby. Ride that fucking tongue…put it in my mouth. Said you were gonna get nasty f’r me so do it…” laying heavy handed smacks against your skin to keep you alert and even slapping those plump pussy lips as well once withdrawing those fingers. He wasn’t even giving you time to react to the stimuli coming from every angle. Dredging up one sticky shower of cum right after the next. It was as if you couldn’t stop. Something akin to a broken fire hydrant..

“Squirt in this mouth, baby. I want it all.” Greedily demanding with his hands roaming around your asscheeks as he dove head first into your center. But just as quickly you become adjusted to having your pussy eaten, you find yourself lying there, shaking until he leaned up and grasped your ankle..tugging you towards the end of the bed. Quite honestly, it astounded you how he had so much energy to handle you like this after playing such an intense game! But being fueled by envy and lust had that effect on a person.. “Rei..please. F-fuck!” From there, you’d find your legs folded back once more and this time, your entire body being hoisted from the bed frame. “Grab my neck and hold still…” his only instructions because he was handling the rest. By the time you realized what exactly he was up to, your legs were coiled around his torso, and you were being impaled on his cock. The look on your face told him everything he needed to know..you were loving this just as much as he was! Being bounced around and used as his own personal fleshlight. Even after being pounded into oblivion before, he was still pumping you full of cock and impaling you as he thrusted those hips upward, all while forcing you down on that shaft. “Thereee we go…so fucking tight. Wrapped around my dick like this.” That cunt clutching him with all you had, so much so, it’d make him toss his head back. You could tell it was taking its toll, by the loud grunting and grip on your ass. Not to mention the veins bulging from his forehead.

“Gonna have you so full…put all my cum in this pussy. Ready for that, baby? Huh?” Asking the question before using all of his strength to hammer up into you; jolting that body around.

“Yes! Come in me, come in this fucking pussy!” Whimpering whilst your nails dredged into the skin, clawing their way through as you attempted to brace yourself. You could feel that tip thrashing against your sensitive core, pulsating inside of you. You were still trickling down his shaft and came one more time before he was unable to hold out any longer. Gritting his teeth and trembling himself, Reiner made a split second decision to lie you back on the bed and pull you into a mating press. Hieverimh above you with a foot planted onto the bed as he buried every inch of that big cock inside of you. Suddenly, you’d feel him come to a halt..breath hitching in the back of his throat. Suddenly, you’d feel something pouring inside of you and it was the warming sensation of his nut spilling into your womb. He had been holding back not only from tonight but all the days that practice and school had kept him away from you. Brushing the side of his face, you’d talk him through his orgasm as he clutched the sheets. Telling him how good it felt and that you loved when he filled you up.

“Thank you, daddy..feels so good.”

the next thing you knew, he’d collapse beside you before roping you into a passionate, deep fledged kiss. Even cradling the side of your head as you both came down from your highs. There wasn’t a better feeling than this..

“I love you so much…you know that, right?” Declaring between long winded, baited huffs as he held you close to his chest. He’d place soft, tender pecks on your temple and lovingly caress your skin with all the gentleness in the world. A far cry from what had just transpired. Despite his rough handling and aggression, he still harbored deep, immense love for you. Love that no one else could ever replicate or even dream of giving you. Not even your ex..

“I love you more than anything, (y/n)..I’m sorry I got so worked up but it’s just what you do to me..”

“Oh Rei…I love you more. Please, don’t apologize…I’m not going anywhere. You’re the only one I want and ever will. Believe me when I say that.”

and wherever he was, that was the side you wanted to be on. The winning team..

#commissions corner #commissions #commission #fic commissions #aot fic #aot #aot smut #aot x reader #aot x black y/n #aot x black reader #aot x y/n #reiner x black reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun #attack on titan reiner #reiner smut #reiner braun x black reader smut #reiner brainrot #snk reiner #aot reiner #reiner x black reader smut #reiner snk #reiner aot #snk smut #snk au #aot au #snk fic #snk eren #cw smut #cw sex mention

[daycourtofficial]

Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon

Summary: you teach the Inner Circle about your home court’s tradition of mistletoe, and someone begins placing them all around the house to catch you underneath them.

Author’s note: this is heavily inspired by Operation Mistletoe by Wkemeup, so feel free to check that out.

“So you just hang them up so you can what- make out with people all the time?” Mor asks, confusion etched on her face as she takes a sip of her wine.

“Sounds awesome,” Cassian says, taking another bite of porridge.

You sigh, “well you don’t really do it to just make out with people,” sending a pointed glare at Mor. “Previous people viewed it as sacred for it’s healing properties, and many view it as a symbol of fertility. It’s only really grown in the Winter Court, but it’s a fun reminder of who we come from.”

Rhys leans forward, “I’m still confused about the kissing thing, I get using it as decor, I suppose. But why kissing?”

“Like I said,” you say, taking a bite of your cereal, “since it survives the winter and blooms during it; many view it as a sign of prosperity and fertility, so maybe people started kissing under it to prompt further fertility.”

Cassian huffs, “you just made sex sound so boring.”

You roll your eyes and point at Cassian, “you’re the one who asked me about winter court traditions for solstice!”

He glares at you, “yeah, well I was hoping you’d tell me you all jump in the lake naked every year.”

You laugh, “oh so you’ve heard of the polar bear plunge?”

Cassian stills, turning his head to look at you with incredible speed. “So you do do it!”

“Well, I don’t,” you say, picking up your glass to drink, “at least, not anymore.” You say with a wink.

Azriel speaks up, his soothing tone taking over the room. “So if you’re caught under the plant, you have to kiss?”

“It’s bad luck not to. You don’t have to kiss on the lips, most people kiss on the cheek or on the forehead.”

-

You woke up the next morning, coming down the stairs, clinging to the robe wrapped around your nightgown.

Coffee, then getting dressed. That was your plan, after all. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, a big perk to living with early risers being that there’s always coffee ready when you roll out of bed.

You start moving for the doorway to the dining room, to see if anyone is eating so you can say hi, when something catches your eye.

Right above you in the doorway is a sprig of mistletoe, tied together in a bundle with a red ribbon, hanging from the doorway.

You look at it, just as pretty as they are in your memories, the vibrance of the green capturing your attention, when you hear shuffling behind you. You go to turn to see who it is, when a large hand envelops the right side of your face, bringing your left cheek into contact with something.

Not something, someone. Someone’s kissing you on the cheek. Before you can process what’s happening, the warmth that was pressed against you is gone, and Azriel comes striding into view.

“Good morning,” he says nonchalantly, walking out of the dining room, nodding to Feyre as he passes her and out of the house.

You whip your head around to see if anyone else witnessed what just happened, and you see Feyre sitting at the table, a spoonful of porridge stuck midway between the bowl and her mouth.

“Did you- did that - see?” You ask, your flustered state making Feyre giggle in amusement. You bring your hand up to your cheek where he had pressed his lips to you.

You wrote it off as him getting caught up in the idea of mistletoe, until a few days later when you were heading into the library. Your head was down, trying to focus on not sliding since your shoes were still wet from the rain. You look up in time to keep yourself from running face first into someone’s chest.

You reach your arms out to steady yourself against them, apologizing for running into them, until you look up and find Azriel’s amused eyes looking back at you. You look above him, seeing he has run into you right underneath the mistletoe.

“We have to stop running into each other like this,” you joke, as you motion with your finger for him to come closer. You stand on your tiptoes, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him on his left cheek, perhaps lingering a bit longer than you should. Breathing in his piney scent one last time, you pull back, letting him continue on his day.

That night the entire group went out to Rita’s, attempting to have some fun despite the busy season. It seems like these days all of you are working double time to ensure you can keep the day of Solstice free from work.

All of you head upstairs to your private room, just large enough for your group to comfortably lounge about. Azriel stays behind, waiting for a tray of shots to take up the stairs. You decide to stay with him, opting to keep him company while he waits. You would offer to help him carry the drinks, however the shadowsinger’s height allowed him to manuever through the crowd with the tray much more swiftly than you could.

“Is all your solstice shopping done, then?” You ask the shadowsinger, knowing he most likely had finished his shopping months ago.

He flashes you a grin, one he reserves only for you. “Mostly, just little odds and ends left.”

You gasp, “As I live and breathe, Azriel hasn’t finished his solstice shopping? It’s a week away- you’re usually finished by September!”

He rolls his eyes at your playfulness. “There’s one gift left I’ve been waiting for - I just have to go pick it up.”

He leans his left arm against the counter, his body facing the room surveying the area.

“Who’s it for?” You ask, trying not to get too flustered at how close his body is to yours.

He leans in closer to your ear, as he whispers, “Beron.”

He laughs, pulling away from you. You try not to let the disappointment of the loss of his warmth show on your face.

You huff and cross your arms, “fine then, keep your secrets.”

“What about you?” He asks, nudging your foot with his, “any last minute shopping to do?”

You went through the gifts you had bought for everyone, very impressed with some of them. You got Nesta an advanced copy of the next Sellyn Drake novel, some enchanted canvases that allow multiple paintings on them, showing them like a moving picture for Feyre, a hand knit sweater from Winter for Rhys, an exquisite wall mirror for Mor.

Yet you couldn’t figure out what to get the male in front of you. Do you go with simple, so he doesn’t think you tried too hard? Or do you go all out, lay all of your feelings for him out there?

Before you can answer, the bartender presents Azriel with the tray of shots, so you lead him through the crowd of people, walking up the stairs.

You go to turn around and make a comment about how unfair it is that he can manuever through the crowd so easily, when you feel him gently place a hand on your upper arm, sliding down, lifting your hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Your cheeks heat immediately, as he lets go of your hand, pointing above the two of you, where someone has crudely hung a mistletoe plant above the top of the staircase.

He smiles at you, “tradition, right?“ before sauntering into the room to boisterous cheers that the alcohol has arrived.

The next few days pass and more and more mistletoe made appearances. You found yourself running into Azriel underneath them, wondering if he was catching anyone else under them.

Rhys was grumbling about his house being ruined by the plants, crudely hung by a nail from doorways, arches, balconies, really any surface, but the rest of you seemed to enjoy them.

Azriel wasn’t the only one you ran into underneath them, having run into Cassian a few times, who loved making a big show of it whenever you two were caught under one.

“Oh, sweetheart! We’re caught under the mistletoe! Whatever will we do?” He dramatically, and quite loudly, said to you one morning.

“Good morning Cassian,” you say, as he wraps his arms around you, planting an overly dramatic kiss to your cheek.

He pulls away, letting you go, starting to walk off, but he turns around and smirks while looking somewhere behind you before he’s gone. You look around, but can’t find anyone nearby.

You weren’tt the only one caught under the plant, with most members of the inner circle caught once or twice underneath the plant. You had caught a glimpse of Elain and Lucien underneath one, turning on the spot to provide them with some privacy.

You got caught under it with Nesta, who kissed you on the lips like her life depended on it. The kiss caused Mor to wolf whistle at you two, and Cassian had to pry Nesta off of you after he felt like it was lasting too long.

But it was mostly Azriel, him always catching you when you’re walking through a threshold where the mistletoe is dangling. He had kissed your forehead, your hands, the top of your head, but usually it was on your cheeks, and as much as you enjoyed the kisses, each time you secretly hoped he’d kiss you on the lips.

Rhys sighs, walking into the living room to find that Azriel and Cassian have already been by here, the room covered in mistletoe. From his beautiful crystal chandelier (a delicate heirloom, he grumbles), to the doorways where they’re crudely hung (those nails will leave holes!), to the ones hanging from the ceiling (really?), Rhys is tired of the plant.

The fresh scent of it coats the room, as he walks towards his mate and hangs his head in her shoulder. “What did I do to deserve this?” He grumbles to her.

She giggles, closing her book, “come on, it’s only a few more days, Azriel has some plan cooked up.”

His grip on her loosens, his body going even more slack against her, “yes but why does my house have to suffer for it?”

She coos, stroking his hair as he pouts.

“I think it’s romantic. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining when I caught you under one last night.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, as Rhys begins kissing her neck.

As if he summoned them, Cassian and Azriel come back through, holding massive bags of mistletoe.

“I’m just saying, Az, you’re going through a lot of effort. I say you just plant one on her.” The general says, shrugging.

Azriel rolls his eyes at his brother, “Not everyone is wooed by someone just ‘planting one on them’.” He replies, using finger quotes at the end.

Cassian sets down his bag as a grin overtakes his face, “so you are trying to woo her.”

Azriel gives him a look that would terrify a lesser man.

“Considering the effort he’s going through, Cass, it’s quite obvious what he’s trying to do,” Rhys responds, “even though he’s ruining my house to accomplish it for a girl who looks at him like he created the night sky.”

Feyre tuts at Rhysand, as he straightens off of her. “Well, I find it sweet, Az. And this is my house too, so continue on.”

Azriel smiles at his high lady, grabbing Cassian’s bag of mistletoes as he walks out, blatantly ignoring Rhys and Feyre’s intense staring at each other as they are obviously arguing telepathically.

-

You had left for the day before Solstice to return to Winter to drop off some gifts, but hurried back to Night to be able to spend all day Solstice with your new family. You returned to find the house a green chaotic mess, with mistletoe hanging everywhere. Dozens and dozens of sprigs sprouting from the ceiling, almost looking like a garden on the ceiling.

You can’t find Azriel anywhere, unsure of where he’s gone off to. You actually get caught under a mistletoe with both Rhys and Feyre, each of them kissing you on the cheek, Rhys muttering something about not letting live plants in the house anymore as he pulls away.

You eventually retire to your room, deciding if you can’t find the spymaster, you’ll take a nap to prepare for the evening’s festivities. It’s the night before Solstice, and everyone seems to usually spend the days leading up to the holiday drinking their asses off.

Later that evening, after you took a glorious nap, a nice bath, and spent a while getting dressed and ready, you went up to Azriel’s door, knocking softly on the wood.

He opens the door after a moment, taking longer than he usually does, and he smiles down at you, his build taking up the entire doorframe.

“Hey Az, can you come to my room for a sec? I need your help.”

He nods, closing his door behind him, following you across the hall into your room. You open your door, letting him into your space, and shut it behind him. “What did you need help with?”

You pull out the box you had been holding behind your back, presenting it to him. “Open it,” you tell him, putting it in his hands.

The tips of his ears redden, “aren’t we exchanging gifts later?”

You smile, “yeah, but I wanted you to open this one now.” He undoes the ribbon on the box, opening the lid to find a piece of parchment. He sets the box down on your nightstand, standing up straight to unroll the parchment.

Neatly written in your handwriting are the words “Look up”. He does as the parchment says, looking towards the high ceiling of your room to find a small mistletoe hanging directly above the two of you.

“Happy Solstice,” you say, grabbing his shirt and bringing him towards you. You stand on your tip toes, bringing his face into yours.

At your words, Azriel swears he forgets how to breathe, much less think, as your lips cover his. You taste like cookies and coffee, a taste he wants to get lost in when he realizes he hasn’t moved, standing still like a complete buffoon.

He wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss. He causes you to lean back, dipping you as he deepens the kiss.

When he pulls away, his eyes aglow with joy and humor, he reaches beside himself, pulling something from the shadows.

“If you’d like to open your gift,” he tells you.

You unwrap the wrapping paper, opening the box inside containing another sprig of mistletoe. You laugh, but Azriel starts speaking.

“I asked Kallias to bless it. It is an immortal sprig now. I just picked it up this morning from winter.”

He fidgets with his hands, a little worried this gift isn’t as great as he thought it was. “It’s a little piece of home to have year-round. I know how much you love Solstice.”

You smile up at him, “I love it,” and kiss him again.

He pulls back, obviously needing to tell you something. “Um- it was me, all the mistletoe around the house and everywhere we went.” He raises his hands to gesture all around. “Well it was mostly me, but Cassian helped a bit.”

He sighs, “he caught me one night, hanging them up. Nosy bastard,” you giggle. “So he insisted he help, then big blabbermouth told Rhys and Feyre.”

You laugh, appreciating how much effort he truly went to to do this.

“So I may or may not have been sitting in my shadows all week, waiting by mistletoes for you to walk by.”

Your jaw slackens at his admission, but before you can say anything, he continues. “Cassian beat me a few times when I was about to come out and kiss you. He’d gloat all night about it.”

The shadowsinger rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics.

“But what about the one at Rita’s? How did you do that one?” You ask, confusion lacing your voice. “I was with you the moment we walked in.”

He smiles, a shadow coming by you holding a sprig of mistletoe. “They can’t resist if I ask them to do something for you.”

You throw your head back to laugh, but he wraps a hand around your neck, capturing your laugh with his lips.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar fanfiction #azriel fluff

[repulsiveliquidation]

Thorn in My Side || Jessie Fleming

warnings : mentions of injury and surgeries. insinuations of cheating and false accusations. angst. happy ending and smut will be in part two.

summary : you get injured, its Jessie's fault. or so you thought.

a/n : as i type this, i think i've figured out how to incorporate the smut! i'll get to writing as soon as this is posted! i'm not sure if it makes much sense, here's to hoping. enjoy.

“for your UCLA Bruins, number 21, Jessie Fleming!”

Jessie steps forward and smiles, waving to the flood of Bruins fans in the stands cheering them on. You clap with a scowl on your face, watching as the girls in the stands ogle and fawn over her. You’re admittedly jealous of her for reasons unbeknownst to you, but seeing the 5’5’ Canadian made your blood boil.

She was good on the football pitch and was smart to go along with it. Jessie had it all. Being called up for most of her time in school and playing for her national team made her well-known in the soccer world from the moment she was here in America.

She was ferocious on the grass, a fearless midfielder who put everything out there.

The game was a close one, tied at the half 2-2. There were lots of contact, tackles, and battles that made it clear to anyone watching that there was tension between you and Jessie. One always found the other; if one had the ball, the other wanted it.

You had possession, running towards goal. There was a flash of blue and you were on the ground yelling in pain, hands clutching at your ankle. There was a loud pop and your ankle began to swell. The trainers came over and were hauling you off on a stretcher almost immediately, the ref showing Jessie a yellow for the unsafe tackle. It wasn’t a red card because really you fell a little weird and her studs were nowhere near your ankle.

She looked genuinely sorry, taking your hand in hers as you were stretchered off. You were in too much pain to care, shoving her hand out of yours and your teammates pulling her away from you.

A broken ankle was what they said. It was a clean break but you needed surgery and that meant no more soccer for the season.

Just great.

They put you in a wheelchair before you head to the hospital, your parents are already at the stadium to take you. You hear the final whistle blow and your teammate rolls you in, the girls all feeling sad when you tell them the news. There’s a little Bruins blue in the sea of Trojans in front of you and there’s a Canadian standing there digging her cleat into the grass, wanting to apologize.

Megan and Kasey stand beside you just in case things get a little heated. Jessie steps forward and looks more sorry for you when she sees the bandages and you in a wheelchair.

“Is it broken?” she asks genuinely, looking at your leg and then at you.

“No thanks to you,” you snide, rolling your eyes at her. “What do you want now, Fleming?”

“I wanted to apologize, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” she says sincerely but you’re too bitter to hear her take ownership of her actions.

“You knew what you were doing, Fleming. You’ve always been out to get me our entire college career and now in our final year you finally get what you want!”

You don’t know the tears were starting until they did, pouring down your face hot and fast. She looked a little mortified and pale, backing away and saying she was sorry over and over before a sea of Bruins pulled her away to celebrate their win.

The whole car ride to the hospital you spent weeping, thinking about how you’re not going to be able to play your senior year out like you had hoped. But more so of the look of pure horror on Jessie’s face when you accused her of hating you so much that she would purposely hurt you.

She looked on the verge of tears. Like hurting you scared her.  

You scared her.

||

“The break is clean, but rehab will take a while if you’re not careful,” said Dr. Jeff, the attending podiatrist.

“How long?”

“You’re looking at 14 to 16 weeks, kiddo. Two years if you’re stubborn like most of my patients are.”

“16 weeks sounds great.”

“Smart kid you got here,” the doctor tells your parents with a smile, “I’ll schedule you in for surgery today, you should be out of here by the end of the week.”

The doctor leaves and your mother begins to fuss, propping up pillows and getting your nurse to bring you more jello. Your father, on the other hand, has a look of all-knowing on his face.

“I’m sorry Dad,” you begin, head hanging low the moment your mother leaves the room.

“Don’t be sorry, peanut. These things happen. Better now than when you’re on a professional team, yeah?”

“She didn’t really make me break my ankle did she?” you ask, looking up at your dad who was rubbing your back as the tears filled your eyes again.

“It was the perfect tackle, kiddo. You just fell a little funny is all.”

“She looked so horrified when I said she did it on purpose,” you sob, leaning into your father’s stomach. He held you tight and cradled your head, your heart hurting more than your broken ankle, the face Jessie made when the words left your mouth etched behind your eyelids.

||

There are plenty of flowers in your room the moment you wake from surgery. Lots of cards and get well soon balloons hung from the ceiling. You were still groggy when your teammates visited, Megan was sure to bring lots of Sharpies to sign your cast with, all the girls leaving a nice note for you on it.

There was an hour left for visitations and your parents just left to wash up at home. You were mindlessly scrolling through the terrible TV channel selections while finishing your 5th Jello cup when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in!” you yell, thinking it was a nurse coming to check your vitals again. What you didn’t expect was to see a brunette Canadian poking her head through the door.

“Hi,” she said sheepishly, standing by the door unsure if you really would want her to come in.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as kindly as possible, eyes flickering towards the clock above the door, “it’s late, why aren’t you back at school?”

“Spring Break, my parents are down from Canada so I asked to see you before we drove back,” she says quietly, stepping in a little more. “Can I come in?”

You nod, unsure if your mouth would be polite enough. Anger still seethed in your bones but the look of sheer horror on her face was still fresh in your mind.

“How bad was it?” she begins, still standing near the now-closed door.

“Clean break, should take 16 weeks if I’m careful.”

“That’s good. The doctors here are great.”

“They are quite convincing, they know how to get a patient to stay on their medical plan.”

“Did you get Dr. Jeff?”

“He accused me of being stubborn.”

Jessie laughs and you smile, a light blush creeping up your cheeks. It’s an adorable sound and her face of laughter replaces the one of fear you had burned into your mind.

“I’m really sorry for all this,” she begins but you cut her off.

“It wasn’t your fault, my dad said it was a clean tackle. I just fell funny.”

You looked up at her and saw the relief on her face and she stepped forward, taking your hand in hers. You took a deep breath and reciprocated her ownership of her mistakes, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders the moment you looked her in the eyes.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said the other day Jessie, that was not fair to you.”

“Heat of the moment love, don’t worry about it.”

Your heart clenches hard when the pet name slips out of her lips and you smile, hoping she didn’t see your eyes dilate and feel your skin warm up. She nods and bids goodbye just as her phone rings which tells you her parents are waiting outside.

You sit there giddy and a little starstruck as she disappears out of view. Your hand is warm from her touch and you can still feel her hand holding yours. You thump your head back and curse loudly, before grabbing your leg in pain temporarily forgetting that you were actually hurt.

You giggle and bite your lip, shaking your head when your phone dings.

Maybe: Jessie Fleming.

“You look cute when you’re flustered.”

You clap a hand to your mouth and smile, face heating up with a dark blush.

“You did this, you better fix it.”

“I think we can make that happen, love.”

You don’t think you slept much that night, texting till the sun came up. Your parents came in to check on you in the morning and found you with your phone still on call with Jessie but you two were asleep. You woke up to your doctors talking to your parents and discussing your rehab plan. There was another text from Jessie, making your heart skip a beat.

“You’re also very cute when you’re sleeping.”

Over the next few weeks, you two talked constantly. Jessie kept you company when you were bored at rehab and you kept her company while she was training on her own. You called her every night before bed, giggling and laughing well into the night most nights.

“How is rehab coming along?” Jessie asked as you were lying back on the examination table to relax your ankle. She was in her bed, looking as stunning as you had been denying yourself the chance to admit.

“Good, looks like I can put pressure on it by next week if Tiff lets me,” you say, side-eyeing your trainer Tiffany who was doing cupping on another teammate’s back.  

“Girl, I will hold your papers hostage, don’t test me,” Tiffany jokes, waving the lit fire stick at you.

“Yes ma’am I’ll be super-duper extra careful!” you answer with a salute, making Jessie laugh so loud it rings through the room. Most of your teammates know the thing you’ve got going with her and think it’s cute.

All but one.  

Megan.

She stood at the door listening to you ramble on about Jessie this and Jessie that, her blood boiling at the thought of you being buddy-buddy with the girl she believed to be the one who hurt you.

Megan was a freshman who was from Florida. She was a great pick from her high school team, and the best defender on the East Coast. She made the team here at USC and to say the least, she fit right in.

There was homogeny that wasn’t there before she joined and the linkup between you and her helped you take her under your wing. She looked up to you and was so ecstatic to play with you after watching you on TV.

She felt that Jessie took away her only chance to play with you before you graduated.

Jessie needed to pay.

“Hey, weird question,” Jessie starts, one night while you two were tucked in bed and on the phone with each other.

“Yeah?” you ask, turning over onto your side. Jessie looked a little concerned but you shrugged it off, the girl was known to constantly look worried.

“Someone sent me this photo but it’s from an unknown number, I thought it was weird.”

Sent.

You looked at it in shock.

It was you. Kissing a girl on the basketball team.

“Jess this isn’t me.”

“I’m not blind you know, that’s you.”

“Jessie, I swear this was doctored! I’ve never talked to this girl, let alone fucking kissed her!”

“Then why did the fucking photo come with a text that said, “She’s not who you think she is,”?”

“I don’t know! No one else but the girls know about you and me! I promise Jessie please!”

“I need some time to think. Leave me alone.”

She hangs up.

The tears fill your eyes as you stare at this photo. You don’t even think you’ve crossed paths with this girl, having not been the biggest fan of basketball. But your face was clearly there and hers was too. Her lips were on yours and you looked like you were enjoying yourself.

You think and you think hard. You didn’t go to any parties lately with your leg and you haven’t been to any games of theirs. You stared at the photo for hours, wracking your brain for some kind of explanation.

An explanation as to why Jessie looked so hurt at the thought of you with someone else.

#jessie fleming #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso community #portland thorns #jessie fleming x reader #jessie fleming imagine #woso #woso angst

[webslingingslasher]

Care less

for the frat!peter girlies.

Peter blames his aunt. 

May went and raised him to look forward to the middle of february. She would make little boxes and handwritten notes tied up with a fun-sized candy bar. May told him it was a day to celebrate love in its entirety. For a friend, for a teacher, for just the sake of love existing everywhere you went. 

Except, not everyone likes valentine's day. Some even hate it. Some would loathe the day so much that Peter feels like an idiot for caring. Dinner reservations that were going to be ignored, flowers that would go wilted and chocolates that were never going to get eaten. 

Peter has a handful of nothing and the one time he really wanted to outperform himself, it was brushed off and it was his aunt’s fault for getting his hopes up about valentine’s day. He had been so thoughtful too, planning weeks ahead to book a dinner slot and a fun date. Not to mention the mini fortune he spent on roses, not that you were a giant fan of roses but every girl deserves a bouquet on valentine’s, even if they triple in price. Peter even bought a second bunch of your favorite kind, just to prove he cared. 

It meant nothing. His efforts meant nothing and maybe he shouldn’t have assumed, but he never thought that you’d hate the holiday. It was a day entirely built around feelings, around love- and you just rolled your eyes at him. 

“I fucking hate valentine’s day.” You said it like it was nothing, taking two bites of a banana and handing it over to Peter. He asked if you were excited, maybe even hinting at that you should be excited. Peter Parker was about to romance the hell out of you. But not anymore. 

“Explain that one for me?” A toss, the peel falls into the trash can. You shrug as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it’s something you’ve held in your chest for as long as you can remember. 

“It was a holiday created by girls who didn’t feel loved enough by their boyfriends, or something. I think the practice is stupid, you should treat me good and do nice things for me everyday, not just once a year. And everything is crowded! Everyone has the same lame idea about dinner and a movie and flowers and… it’s just not something I buy into.” 

Peter feels every bit of him curl up and die inside. Valentines is his third favorite holiday, he adores the pinks, reds, and purples. He loves seeing couples of every stage, the beginning stages or lifelong partners. They all love the same; with everything in them. 

“Well, actually, I do have a confession. Chocolate covered strawberries. They’re outrageously expensive, but I buy them every year. If you’re wondering, I was hoping we could boycott the baby holiday and eat some strawberries or something.” 

A small lift in his heart, it’s something. You’d be happy with one thing and he could deliver that, but first he has to try and sway you, right? Peter needs to preach what valentine’s is about, he needs you to understand how lovely it is. 

“I’m surprised you hate it so much. I figured you’d love it, since it’s pink and feelings, and stuff.” You wink at him, you think it’s a joke and Peter’s in the same boat as you. “I know, right? It always seemed so gimmicky to me, I think.” 

“That doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You pretend gag, Peter feels his heart sink into the hollow of his chest. “You’re right, it’s cringy and that makes it so much worse.” Peter doesn’t agree, not even in the slightest. Nothing about it is cringy, there’s nothing embarrassing about showing you love someone. 

“Right. It’s cringy and a gimmick and everyone who participates is stupid.” Maybe he’s a little cynical, it hits harder when you nod with exaggeration. “So glad you agree, petey!” He doesn’t. Peter couldn’t be further away from your opinion but he’s really not in the mood to be shut down or judged, so, he just changes the subject and tries to ignore everything crumbling apart in the back of his mind. 

“Isn’t this cute?” 

You squint your eyes when you read the card, a tiny smile shows. “It’s cute. Not worth…” You snatch the glorified cardstock and flip it, your eyes widen, you pretend to choke on the dollar amount. “Ten dollars, holy shit. For some glitter? Fuck that.” 

You want it out of your hold, scared that if even a speckle spread you’d be forced to buy it. “What happened to the good old days of making your own card? My mom used to eat that up.” 

Peter delicately sets the card down, he tries to see it how you do, but he can’t. Sure, it’s wildly marked up, but wouldn’t your partner be worth the price? Peter would buy the moon for you if he could, a ten dollar Hallmark card won’t be his holdup. 

But, maybe you’d like a handmade one more. He can do that. 

Peter’s trying to be mindful of your opinion while also planting the seed that valentine’s isn’t all that bad into your brain. It’s days away and all he can hear in the back of his mind is ‘I fucking hate valentine’s day.’ 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Peter- do you fucking see this?” 

A romantic gesture? A public display of love and admiration? Dozens of carefully inflated heart shaped balloons? A girl crying into the arms of her friend while her partner showers her with flowers. Is it the love? Is that what you’re pointing out? 

“Yeah, it’s-” 

“Disgusting.” 

“-cute.” Peter frowns, is that what you really thought of valentines? Nothing was swaying your mind, Peter thinks that you’re more solidified in your mindset than before. 

“I’m sorry, trouble, but I’m finding it hard believing you hate valentine’s day.” It’s like he just called you a slur, you pull your hand from his and stuff it into your jacket pocket. 

“I don’t hate it, I loathe it. What do you see watching that? Personally, I’m seeing gravel covered flowers and wasted space that turns into deflated balloons. Fuck that.” Peter shakes his head, you’re seeing it wrong. “It’s about the gesture.” 

“It’s about how you love someone so much, there aren't enough things in the world to buy to show it, and there are never the right set of words to say it quite right. I’ll buy all the flowers in the world for you, and I’ll use all the air in my lungs for these balloons but it’ll never match the love I have for you.” 

Peter clears his throat. “That's what I see, anyways. I think valentine’s day is an excuse to be a little cringy and basic because we all want that sometimes.” He might’ve finally broken through, but you crack a grin and bump your shoulder into his. 

“Ah, yes, because I’m so unfulfilled that a man has never gotten me a teddy bear for valentine’s day.” Would you want one? He could get you one. Or could that be a reason you might detest the holiday, not that he’d ever take your opinion for resentment or bitterness. 

“Have you ever had a valentine?” A small stumble, your hand is tied into his again. “Besides elementary, nah. And honestly, I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.” 

‘I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.’ But, now you do, don’t you? 

“Trouble, you do realize you’re my valentine this year, right? And I’m yours?” You feel your breath catch, no, you hadn’t realized. It’s always just been another day for you and you assume the same for Peter, it’s not like there was much to celebrate. 

“It’s also just a day that ends in Y.” Is that really the answer you have? It’s just another day to you, even if you finally have someone to claim? You might not care about the holiday, but Peter does and he’s going to get his valentine’s day, no matter what. 

And you’re going to enjoy a handmade card. 

And a teddy bear. 

Peter’s finger-combing his hair after a shower, he’s had the reservation for weeks, but he also wasn’t aware of your detestment towards red hearts and arrows. 

“Wanna grab some dinner wednesday?” If he didn’t say it by name he’s hoping you won’t scream bloody mary on him. “Sure.” A smile washes over Peter’s face, it drops in a second. “Wait, isn’t that valentine’s day? Ha, yeah, no thank you. You, me, and the entire city? Fuck that.” 

‘Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that.’ Weeks boiled into nothing. “But, if you wanna cuddle and watch a movie I’m down.” It’s something. He’d get to give you flowers and a card and a teddy bear and he can’t forget the strawberries. You told him you loved them. 

“Good with me, trouble.” 

Peter tried to sway your mind, he tried to make you enjoy the love and glitter and colors. But you hated it all. So all he has to do is ditch the flowers and the dinner and just… do nothing. 

Peter’s first real valentine and all he has to do is… nothing. 

Three rose bouquets tossed onto his closet floor, it was haphazardly done. Petals scattered around the cellophane, some even reached to his shoes. They were thrown in without care, they were hidden. 

But they were beautiful. A few front buds have taken a beating, but the others were fully blossomed and lively. You’ve never seen roses in such a vivid red, their petals almost like velvet under your fingertips, their smell unlike any other. 

The thorns have been expertly shredded, nothing but smooth, soft stems in their wake. It doesn’t matter if Peter didn’t mean to have you see them, they were too gorgeous to leave locked away in a dark room. They deserved the affection water and sunlight would give them. 

You clutched all three in your arms, the weight welcomed. You laid them out nicely across his bed, the third bouquet dropped a small card and you picked it right back up. 

‘Trouble- 

This day was made for you. 

Charlie’s at 8. 

Yours, 

Peter’

You bit back a smile. Charlie’s? It’s nice, too nice. And expensive. Peter got you reservations at Charlie’s? Holding the card to your chest you nearly squeal, you have no idea how he kept the secret from you. Or the roses. 

When you hear his bedroom door open you spin, waiting for him to be in the doorway so you can place a thousand kisses. Instead it’s Ethan and he looks surprised. “You’re here?” He points to the flowers, “Peter gave you those?” 

“I found them in his closet, he just tossed them in here! And he must’ve forgotten to tell me about Charlie’s.” Ethan doesn’t smile with you, he’s not sharing any joy. For a second you start to wonder if you were the person who was supposed to receive the gifts. 

“He didn’t forget.” You scrunch your face at him, “I think he did and I need to start getting ready now. Ethan, do you know how nice Charlie’s is? It’s fucking fancy.” You’re not prepared, you don’t have anything that screams Charlie’s worthy in Peter’s closet. 

“No, you’re not hearing me. There is no Charlie’s and there weren't supposed to be roses. I was supposed to get them before you got here, but, here we are. No roses and no Charlie’s.” You smack at his arms, pulling at his fingers to drop your flowers. 

“They’re mine!” Ethan’s on a mission to steal them, and he’s not being gentle. 

“No, you didn’t want them.” 

You watch him for a second, how could he say that, of course you want them. Thirty six reminders of Peter, how could you ever say no? You fight for what's yours, Ethan allows you to keep one bouquet. 

“I do want them!” 

Ethan’s not being nice to you tonight, he’s gruff with his response. “No. You didn’t.’ 

“You keep saying didn’t! I never said I didn’t want…” 

Except you did. Just like you said you didn’t want to get dinner with Peter. You feel terrible, you feel like crying. He’d had this planned for weeks and the whole time all you did was poke fun and degrade the holiday not knowing you were crushing him behind the scenes. 

You wanted the flowers, but you didn’t deserve them. You hand over the last bouquet silently. 

“I think it’s best if you pretend you didn’t see these.” You can’t imagine the ache Peter must have in his chest, he planned something out just for you to stomp all over it. It’s not about the value, it was the gesture. He can’t tell you how he feels, but taking you out to one of the nicest places in the city, where you know it has a month minimum reservation list makes you understand him just a little bit better. 

“This is so bad, Ethan. This is so,” you suck in air, “so bad.” 

“It’s not terrible,” a crinkle when he shifts weight. “But it’s not great.” You wince, if you could, you’d go back in time and shove your foot in your mouth, or tell yourself to shut the fuck up. 

“Well, I mean, what the fuck?! It’s fucking Peter! How was I supposed to know he was pro valentines day?”

“How was he supposed to know you were anti valentines day?” 

You sink to the bed and hold your head in your hands, “I just want Peter right now.” You want to hug him and kiss him and tell him how sorry you were. Ethan hesitates for a second, before stepping closer to lay the flowers across your lap. 

“You found them. They’re yours.” You protect them from being taken, but still have self-pity. “I don’t deserve them.” Ethan scoffs, “of course you do. Everyone deserves pretty flowers.” 

You pout at yourself in the mirror and fix any smudges. Brushing out any stray wrinkles your newest dress might’ve made on the way over. Ethan had very kindly instructed a pledge to pick you up an outfit so you could change before Peter got back. 

With minutes to spare, he’s back and taking a deep breath at your appearance. “Wow.” A surprised hum when you kiss him, you wipe red from his bottom lip while you apologize. “I’m so sorry, petey.” 

“For what?” A look around the room, red roses give him the reason. “Oh. Hey, it’s no big deal and I-” A frown when you silence him by holding a finger to his lips. 

“I’m sorry. I found those flowers and all I could think about was you and how much it meant to me that you got those for me, then I saw the card and I couldn’t believe you got us reservations and I just felt… special. I’ve never had a valentine, but I get it now. It’s just a day you get to dote on me extra hard.” 

Another surprise kiss, “and if you didn’t already cancel I think we can get to Charlie’s on time. But if you did, that’s okay. Because I think those are the most lovely flowers I have ever gotten, and I might have seen a little teddy bear in there but I didn’t wanna get too presumptuous.” 

This time, Peter kissed you. “There’s also a homemade card.” 

“You didn’t!” You fall in closer to his chest, his hands can have free reign tonight, you wore the dress just for him. 

“I did. I even wrote a little poem.” 

A chaste kiss, “just when I think you can’t get better.” 

“There’s also glow in the dark mini golf planned for after.” A peck, “so thoughtful and handsome.”

A whisper, he’s got blown pupils and hoping he’d get another kiss. “And your strawberries are in the fridge.” 

Your hearts about to explode, “fuck, I love-” you stop yourself, but you heard it and so did Peter. He brushes it off, “love?” Fuck it, you’ll both keep circling around it. 

“Yeah, I love love.” 

A hungry kiss, a squeeze to the back of your thighs. “Yeah, I love love, too.” 

#frat!peter blurbs #peter parker blurb #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #uni extras

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.5 these feelings are hard to find

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

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

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 5/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 10.4k

a/n. aaaa this chapter took me a while because i was having some pretty bad writer's block. i seriously can't believe it crossed over 10k words, i very poorly planned how much i wanted to get done by this chapter, but i didn't feel like splitting it into two so oh wellll. hope you enjoy! pls excuse any typos we all live on a floating rock.

nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 :: ch10 (pending)

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

“I really don’t understand why I’m here…” you’re grumbling as you, Mina and Todo make your way up the pavement of the driveway leading to the house party. You glance to your right where Mina and Todo are holding hands, arms swinging as they keep pace together. 

It was finally Friday after a particularly long and stressful week, so you were extremely excited to just spend the rest of the night relaxing at home. You had already poured yourself a glass of wine when you returned from your evening class and were sitting on the couch with a blanket on, scrolling through Netflix, when Mina approached you while she was talking to Todo on the phone. She mentioned something about an SAE party tonight that she wanted you to come along for and Todo said he’d extend his other invite to you. When you politely declined, Mina slumped down on the couch and told Todo she had no interest in going unless you also came. And then Todo was bribing you with a hundred bucks. Easiest hundred bucks you’ve ever made. 

“Don’t be a downer. You’re here because I think you’ve been working hard and you need to relax a bit,” Mina chirps, now clinging onto Todo’s arm, “and there’s no better way to relax than getting drunk.”

“I could be getting drunk at home,” you mumble to yourself, the night you were imagining for yourself all day being very different from where you find yourself now. 

The guy that was bouncing for tonight’s party was scanning people’s phones and engaging in some small talk before allowing people inside. He was pretty handsome and you wondered if there was some sort of requirement written in the rules to the SAE fraternity that they must be good-looking to join.

“Hello, my brother,” Todo says as he approaches, smacking him so hard on the back in greeting that the man stumbles over slightly and sends an irritated glare Todo’s way before he regains his balance.

“Hey, big guy, are these your invites?” He gestures towards you and Mina, his eyes landing on yours and lingering for a moment. You blink at him. 

“Yes, this here’s my lovely lady, and this here’s my lovely lady’s friend,” Todo says with a faux suave that only makes you narrow your eyes at him. The man at the entrance sighs and nods before stepping out of the way and motioning the three of you towards the entrance. 

The minute you enter, you immediately realize that this party felt very different from the one you were at last week. It was slightly less crowded, but there were still plenty of people bustling around the large expanse of the ground floor with loud rap music that practically shook the walls. It was dark, much more edgy, with the only source of light being the sporadic flashing of lights over by the DJ’s booth. You felt disoriented from the atmosphere, and the smell of weed and alcohol only further dazed you. 

“This is insane,” you barely hear Mina say beside you over the music as she looks around the expansive interior of the house. In between the brief flickering lights that lit up people’s faces, you register that Todo is grinning at her as though he was entirely satisfied by her reaction. 

You only make it a few steps inside, trailing behind Mina and Todo, before feeling the need to excuse yourself to get away from the intense environment for a second. “Hey, I think I’m going to use the restroom real quick. Todo, do you have any idea where it is?” You feel like you’re shouting just to be heard. 

He looks over his shoulder at you. “There are some downstairs but they probably have lines. You could try upstairs.” 

You give him an appreciative nod and head over to the base of the staircase at the right, glancing up before making your ascent. There didn’t seem to be anyone else upstairs, which surprised you, but you figured you were just in luck and began to walk up step by step until reaching the top. The music downstairs begins to sound muffled as you turn around the railing post and make your way to the left into the narrow hallway likely leading towards the bedrooms. There's a white door somewhere in the middle of the hallway that could only be either a closet or a bathroom. You wrap your hand around the cold metal door handle and twist, satisfied that it wasn’t locked.

The mumbling noises of people inside doesn’t register in your mind until you’ve already cracked the door open half-way, and your entire body recoils in the immediate rush of embarrassment washing over you as you take in the sight of two people, a man and a woman, getting handsy with one another in the bathroom. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry,” is all you manage to squeak out, blinking dumbly at the scene. 

You’re quick to avert your gaze and about to close the door, incredibly mortified by what’s just happened, when the familiar silhouette in front of you causes you to freeze. You slowly lift your line of sight from the bathroom floor until Gojo Satoru is looking you straight in the eye from where he has a girl on the bathroom counter clinging to his shirt. 

“I…” you stutter, face feeling immediately hot as you let go of the door handle and look away from his shocked face. “Sorry,” you say again, this time barely above a whisper, before turning on your heel and making your way down the hallway in such a hurry that you don’t even realize you’re going the wrong way. You hear a feminine voice echo something in the bathroom like what the fuck are you doing?, and then there’s footsteps following after you that sound faster than your own. Ignoring the call of your name, you practically storm into one of the bedrooms, entirely relieved that it was empty, and can only take a couple of steps inside before a hand grabs at your wrist. A chill runs down your spine from the contact.

“Wait, y/n,” Gojo says behind you from where he’s followed you inside, sounding like he’s out of breath. His hand is still holding onto you, keeping you still and you can feel the roughness of his calluses against your skin. When you turn around to face him, he’s close to you and you see his chest is heaving, his hair is disheveled, his shirt is wrinkled at the front and there’s a crease in his brow. 

Your eyes don’t stay on his for long before you’re looking away from him again. “I’m…I’m really sorry, that was really awkward,” you say with a forced laugh and an attempt to wiggle yourself free of his grip but he’s unrelenting. The image of his fingers sliding up that girl’s top was still burned in your vision and no amount of excessive blinking at the carpet beneath your feet seemed to make it disappear. 

“No, I’m sorry, I was supposed to lock…” his trails off and you notice there’s a rough quality to his voice, “that was just-, we were just-”

You finally brave yourself to look up at him and he somehow seems closer than before, his face just inches away from yours and his eyes briefly flickering to your lips before he meets your gaze with a tense expression on his face. You haven’t seen him look so flustered before, and you’ve certainly never heard him struggle this much to find his words either. 

His other hand rubs the back of his neck as he closes his eyes in what looks like frustration, then takes a deep breath to seemingly calm himself down before speaking again. “She’s…We’re just friends,” is all he manages to say. 

There’s a silence between the two of you as you blink at him and he stares at you, his thumb pressing into the skin of where his hand was still wrapped around your wrist. You try really hard to bite back the words you’re about to say, but no amount of willpower could’ve helped you. Your chin tips up, looking at him more decisively, and his gaze is flickering to your mouth again. “Just friends…can’t say I’ve ever tried to get my friends naked in the bathroom at a party before.” You didn’t understand why your tone came off so hostile, but it felt good to criticize his choice of words for some reason.

His lips press together, gaze narrowing slightly and eyebrows furrowing further at your words. He leans in closer to the point where your senses were entirely occupied by him and it was impossible to think of anything else. “Well, you weren’t supposed to see that.” His eyes are contrite but his tone is vexed. 

You relax your body language and use your other hand to forcefully slide his hand off of your wrist, encountering some resistance from him before he acquiesces. Your skin tingles from the absence of his touch and you take a step backwards away from him. His posture straightens slightly, eyes continuing to dart across the features of your face and wide in anticipation as though he was patiently waiting for you to say something that would put him at ease. 

“It’s fine,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice as level as possible, “I accidentally walked in on something I shouldn’t have. You don’t owe me any sort of explanation for it.” Gojo seems to tense up even further at your words, his expression briefly contorting into one of confusion before it reverts to concern again. 

You walk around him towards the bedroom door and see him in your periphery watching every step you take until you eventually exit the room. This time, you don’t hear his footsteps pursuing you from behind. It’s only when you make it past the bathroom, not even daring to take a look inside of it, and about halfway down the hallway that you unsteadily let out the breath you were holding in. Your hand takes its place over your chest in a flimsy attempt to calm your heart down as you quickly make your way down the stairs. There was a sinking feeling in your stomach and you knew you just had to get as far away from here as possible. 

You’re barely able to spot Mina from where she stood with Todo in a corner near the backyard screen door, and briefly notice that Nanami, Geto, as well as a few of their other teammates were clustered there too. You politely acknowledge their pleasant greetings to you as you approach Mina, pulling her to the side.

“Woah, hey, what’s going on?” She asks, stumbling a little bit and you let go of her sleeve. 

“I’m going to go home, not feeling well, I think I just got my period,” you easily come up with a lie, “Nobara says she’ll pick me up.” In truth, you were planning on just calling an Uber for home, but you knew that Mina wouldn’t let you go home by yourself. You didn’t want your confusing and heightened emotions ruining her night.

“Wait, are you sure? I’ll come with you,” she’s quick to say, taking a step towards you but you shake your head.

“No, it’s fine, stay here with Todo,” you demand, “and call me if you need me to pick you up. I’ll let you know when I’m home.” You give her a little hug and she’s standing there confused before hesitantly nodding, and then you make your way to the door. The loud music, flashing lights, and blurred faces around you were so intensely stimulating that when the cold air from outside finally hit your skin, you felt like you were human again. 

The Uber comes by in less than ten minutes as you wait for it on the sidewalk. The driver drops you off at the entrance of your apartment complex and the biting chill of the air has you wrapping your arms around yourself as you wait for the elevator to take you upstairs. Glancing down at your phone to check the time, you see a message from Mina asking if you were home yet. You also see that it’s nearly one in the morning.

Finally making your way inside your apartment, you lock the door behind you and text Mina that you’re home, then slide down with your back against the front door until you’re sitting on the floor. The heat inside was so comforting that you just spent a moment to warm yourself up and just breathe. 

Memories of your conversation with Gojo from just half an hour ago instantly come to the forefront of your mind and you’re shutting your eyes to try and repel the thoughts away. Still so embarrassed that you walked in on him making out with someone, your brain decides to mortify you even further by asking what if you had walked in a few moments later instead? What would you have seen then? 

You squish your cheeks between your hands defeatedly before letting out a sigh and drawing your legs in towards you, hugging your knees to your chest. You didn’t understand why you were so affected by what you saw. You’ve only met Gojo twice, and you knew even before you met him that he was that kind of person. He had a reputation of being involved with a lot of women, so his rather eager desire to explain himself to you just puzzled you even further. 

Standing up, you head over to your bed and flop down on it. Your wrist still burns with the memory of the heat of his hand, and all you can see behind the lids of your eyes when you close them is the sight of him so close to you, stealing glances at your lips. 

Somewhere along the night as you drifted in and out of sleep, Mina called to let you know that she was on her way home. When you hear her open the bedroom door and set her purse down on the nightstand near her bed, your body finally convinces you that it’s okay to rest, and that’s exactly what you do.

---

The weekend is over in the blink of an eye, simply not enough time to mope around in bed, and you’re walking out of your last class of the day on Monday. You check your phone pretty much every other minute to see if Gojo has sent you any messages regarding their new practice schedule for the week, which you’re sure he’s received by now, but there’s nothing. The last messages sent between the two of you were before the party on Friday, and an uneasy feeling has been settling in. You spent most of last week appreciating how helpful he was being so far, but you didn’t even consider the possibility that he could rescind his help at any time too.

You head over to the Department of Communication & Journalism building, making your way up the stairs until you reach the graduate division floor and walk down the hallway to Room 212. As you make your entry, a toasty and rich scent overtakes your senses. 

“Ah, y/n, hello! So good to see you, thanks for coming by. I missed seeing you last week,” you hear Utahime say as she sets down a cup of coffee for you on the conference table in the middle of the room.

“Sorry, I was just…very mentally occupied last week,”  you admit to her, setting your tote bag down on one of the chairs before taking the seat where the cup of coffee was placed, the fragrance instantly waking you up as you take a sip. “Thank you. How have you been?”

“I’ve been well, thank you, just working through my thesis,” she says with a sigh and takes the seat next to you. “Just a few more months…just a few more months, and I’m free!”

You smile at her and watch as she pulls out her laptop, the start-up noise chiming before she starts clicking away at the million tabs that were open. “Did you receive the email I sent you for the newsletter shots?” You ask.

Utahime was a 4th-year graduate student in journalism and was also the head of the school’s newsletter. She has so graciously allowed for Film Club photography shout-outs in every monthly issue for the past couple of years.

She nods. “I did,” she says, resting her elbow on the table and tapping her index finger to her chin, “how come I didn’t see any of your photos in there, though?”

You sigh, sulking your shoulders slightly as you peer down into the brown liquid of your cup and watch the steam evaporate. “I didn’t really take great pictures this month.”

“Aw, well are you working on anything right now?” She returns to clicking away at tabs.

“Yeah, I’ll be taking film photos out on the field of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni next week. It’s for an assignment,” you tell her and watch as her face lights up.

“That’s wonderful! That’s a pretty big gig, they usually only let professionals out on the field. How were you able to secure that?” Utahime asks you as she tips her head to the side.

“Ah…let’s just say I have some sort of deal with one of their players?” You say. Your heart drops a little when you remember the lack of communication from Gojo as of recently, wondering if he was able to get that referee permission for you.

“Which one?” Utahime asks with a teasing smile, leaning over to nudge you with her elbow.

“Gojo Satoru,” you say and then she’s pulling away from you and rolling her eyes, an annoyed look making its way onto her face. You let out a small laugh at her behavior. “Okay, well now I’m curious.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh as she peers beyond the window of the room. “I was his TA when he was just a wee-little freshman. He was always showing up late to class and trying to flirt his way out of completing assignments,” she grumbles, “is he still a little brat?”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking way harder about her question than she had probably intended. “I don’t know…I don’t really know him all that well.” You look down at your hands. Despite the fact that you’ve only known Gojo for a short while, for some reason you felt like you did know him well. You knew the kinds of things that made him smile, you knew the look in his eyes when he was deep in thought about something. You knew what the heat from his body felt like, what the fragrance of his clothes smelled like. 

Utahime is silent for a moment as she studies you. “Hmm,” she’s humming next to you, “well, tell you what, send me your photos when you’re done with them. If they’re good, I’ll use your photos for the sports recap in the newsletter instead of the professional ones we get sent from the school. I can compensate you for them as well.”

Your eyes widen as you look at her, jaw dropping a bit as you blink in disbelief. “Utahime…you would do that for me?”

She gives you a smile and a wink. “Of course, talent helps talent. And it’s my newsletter, I can do whatever I want with it. Besides, you want to get into the school’s film graduate program, right? I’m sure it would look great on your application that you’ve had some of your portfolio published to the school’s official reports. The photos have to be good, though.” She points a finger at you and gives you a strict look.

You feel tears prickle in your eyes from her words, so overwhelmingly grateful for her support, and can barely whisper out a thank you before she’s rushing over to the other table to grab a tissue box and set it in front of you.

“Gosh, why do all my undergrads cry in my presence?” she complains as she pulls out a tissue and hands it to you.

You dab it to your eye. “Because you have such wholesome mom energy.” 

You say goodbye to Utahime after discussing a few more things and then leave the room. You check your phone and your heart skips a beat when you see Gojo’s name in your notifications.

|| 1:43PM Gojo Satoru: Hey, just wanted to let you know I was able to get that referee permission for you for next week

You let out a tiny gasp when you read his words then clutch your phone to your chest in relief. Utahime’s offer of the prospect of getting published in the school’s newsletter gave you a large sense of purpose, and you felt like it was time to take this assignment of yours extremely seriously to secure the opportunity. And Gojo was the one with the power to help you do that.

|| 1:52PM You: thank you so much, i really don’t know how to repay you

You sigh as you make your way to the stairs, grateful that you were getting some communication from him. The big game on the 28th was next Thursday, and you really needed to practice taking photos with your film camera. You open Instagram again to ask him for his practice schedule, but you see that he had sent you another message.

|| 1:54PM Gojo Satoru: No need to repay me, consider us even. Also sorry for the late notice, but we’re having a formal practice match in about an hour with one of the teams we played against earlier in the season. Do you want to come by?

After reading his message, you quickly shuffle your tote bag open and peer inside to see that you did indeed bring your film camera with you to campus today. Excited, you type out a response.

|| 1:55PM You: yes! i’ll hesd over right now

|| 1:55PM You: *head over

|| 1:55PM You: lol

You see little bubbles indicating typing in the left side corner.

|| 1:55PM Gojo Satoru: Meet me by the art sculpture, I’ll walk you over

You blink at the message for a few seconds, starting to type out a message before deleting it, and doing that a couple more times over. When someone tries to shuffle around you from behind, you notice you were standing awkwardly at the top of the stairs so you step away and lean against the wall. You press your lips together in consideration as you realize that today would be the first time you’re going to see Gojo again after that awkward interaction that you had with him at the party last Friday, and you were really not sure how you were going to feel having to be alone with him again.

|| 1:57PM You: that’s okay, i don’t want to trouble you

His response is instant.

|| 1:57PM Gojo Satoru: Just meet me there

Once you’ve made your way across campus, you spot Gojo sitting on the concrete barrier surrounding the art sculpture by the fields practically right in front of the please do not sit on the concrete barrier sign. His head is turned away from the direction you were approaching from, arms crossed at his chest and one of his legs impatiently bouncing up and down. You notice he’s wearing the school’s colors, a teal blue shirt and gray shorts that had some highlights of a sunset yellow, as well as gray athletic soccer shin socks and cleats. He looks so ridiculously sports boyfriend that you have to shake your head to try and physically fight the effect of how attracted you were to him.

He must’ve heard you approaching as you crossed the street towards him since he turned his head in your direction. He’s wearing a black sports headband across his forehead that’s pushing the hair up out of his face and you’re startled by the intensity of his blue eyes on you. When he stands up, his arms fall to his side, making you sad that you could no longer shamelessly stare at the way his biceps flexed when he had his arms crossed.

“Hey,” he says simply, staying perfectly still where he stood. 

There was only one way to dissolve an awkward situation, and that was to pretend like it never happened in the first place. You tip your head to the side, giving him a curious look before skipping right on up to him. “Hello, there,” you cheerfully say. He looks at you with a borderline annoyed expression.

“You’re in a good mood today,” he comments, his voice sounding deeper than usual. Almost tired. 

“Yes, very good mood,” you chirp as you walk past him, “I just got a very good offer.”

The sound of the bottom of his cleats on the sidewalk follow after you as you head in the direction of the softball batting cages. It's not long before he emerges at your side in your periphery. “What kind of offer?” You can tell from his tone that he was trying to restrain his curiosity. 

“Oh, you’ll see,” you say as you look up at him and smile. He gives you an irritated expression due to your lack of transparency but you continue to skip forward until you’ve made it to stairs that lead up to the grassy hills. 

Gojo’s about a step’s distance behind you as you lightly frolic across the land, your heavy tote bag bumping against your hip with every jump. You feel something fly out of it which halts you in your gleeful stride and look behind to where your bluetooth laptop mouse has fallen onto the grass right in front of Gojo. He’s sighing before crouching down to pick it up, then takes a step towards you and extends it out to you. When you glance up at him, he’s not looking at you and his face is hard to read. 

You grab the mouse from him, fingertips brushing against the skin of his palm, and he ever-so-slightly shivers at the touch. His gaze finally meets yours.

With a sigh, you toss your computer mouse back into your bag. “I’m trying really hard to not feel awkward around you right now, but you’re making it pretty difficult.” You were so used to feeling like he has the upper edge of conversation when you’re with him, but now you felt like you were the one with the power.

He raises an eyebrow at you and when you look at his hands, you notice he was apprehensively cracking his knuckles with his thumbs. “Maybe you wouldn’t feel awkward if you actually stayed to talk last Friday.”

You cross your arms across your chest, disliking his tone. “Stayed to talk? About what? How not close you are with your ‘friends’?” 

He tips his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, his brow furrowing like he was entirely frustrated by you, before he looks back down at you again. “If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine, but what’s with you always running away whenever I try to talk to you?”

“I wasn’t feeling well that night,” you mumble to him as you turn away and continue to walk towards the practice field. It was the truth, you weren’t feeling well that night, and it was because seeing him kissing another girl made your stomach drop to the core of the Earth. But that wasn’t something you were going to admit to him. It wasn’t even something you were ready to admit to yourself. “Also, it’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s that I don’t care to believe you.”

“But why don’t you care?” he’s asking you, his voice sounding desperate now as he makes his way to your side again. He’s looking at you but you’re looking straight ahead.

You roll your eyes, continuing to march forwards. “Not everyone cares about your love life, Satoru. Contrary to what you might think.”

He jogs ahead a few steps, now walking backwards in front of you and you narrow your eyes at him. His tongue is poking at the inside of his cheek and then there’s a boyish grin on his face. “Say that again.”

“Say what again?” you ask.

“My name,” he says. 

You almost roll your eyes out of your head when you see his amused expression. “I seriously can’t believe this right now,” you’re muttering under your breath and walk past him down the large hill leading to the practice field, his gaze on you burning through your skin until you’re rubbing at your cheek with the back of your hand in a feeble attempt to physically wipe the blush away.

The practice field was much more crowded and busy than it was during the first practice you went to last week. Looking across to the other side, you see a group of men huddled near one of the benches, all of them wearing maroon-colored shirts with black shorts that have gold stripes running down the side of them. None of them were wearing jerseys, but you assumed they were wearing their school colors as some sort of distinguishing clothing that would help them during the practice match. 

“Satoru! Where the hell have you been?” You flinch upon hearing Coach Yaga’s stern voice nearby and you look over to where he had his arms crossed and glaring at Gojo through his thick sunglasses.

Gojo walks past you towards the benches and gives Coach Yaga a salute. “Sorry, sir, personal business.” He then makes his way over to the rest of his teammates that were huddled on this side of the field. There were a few tables located on the sidelines that had refillable water stations, bottles of Gatorade, towels and all sorts of other athletic gear. You walk up to one of the tables and fix the settings on your film camera before taking a snapshot of the items laid out on it. 

The atmosphere is light since this wasn’t an official match and so you spend some time fidgeting with your camera before they get started. You can only imagine how tense it must be during a proper tournament game at the actual stadium off-campus, the thought of thousands of people spectating from stands sending a shiver down your spine. Athletes were of a whole different breed, despite how wholesome and down-to-earth most of the UTokyo soccer players you’ve met so far were.

Eventually, Coach Yaga and the other coach from the opposing school blow their whistles, both acting as referees for the match, and the players scatter themselves across the field. You notice Gojo is at the center of the circle in the middle, his foot on top of the ball as he scans his eyes across the field to each of the players with a focused look in his eyes. He draws his foot back, and just when you think he’s about to kick it forwards to where he was looking, the back of his heel makes contact with the ball instead and it’s sent swiftly behind him towards Geto. Instantly, all the players begin to move across the field, some of the offensive opposing side charging towards Geto as he shuffles the ball between his feet before kicking it way ahead of him to another one of their teammates. You bring your camera up to your face and take a snapshot when one of the opposing team’s defenders makes an attempt to steal the ball. 

The play continues further, both teams playing a push-and-pull with the ball. Gojo makes an attempt at a goal before the opposing team’s goalie lunges for the ball that was flying in the air straight towards the net, catching it in his arms and then crashing down onto the ground. Somewhere along the intense match, the coaches call half-time and you’re shocked by how fast the first half went by. 

Some of the players retreat to the benches to quench their thirst and wipe the perspiration off their faces with their towels, while others remain on the green expanse to pace around while catching their breath. Your attention is drawn to Gojo who stood at the center with his hands on his hips and breathing visibly heavily. He leisurely shuffles the ball between his feet with an innate rhythm before passing it off towards Geto who stood a few feet away from him. Gojo pulled his headband off of his face, his hair falling over his forehead onto the sheen layer of sweat above his eyes. With each breath, his chest rises and falls, lips parted in a display of exertion, and then he grabs at the hem of his shirt to lift it to his face, exposing his toned torso, as he wipes away the sweat at his temples. Your eyes widen at the sight, almost entranced as a wave of arousal suddenly consumes you, before he releases his grip on the fabric and it falls back down. He pushes his hair back up out of his face with one of his hands, the other securing the headband back onto his forehead with a snap, and the muscles of his arms tense fluidly with every motion. 

You quickly look away from him, afraid he'll catch you staring, and blink at the grass as you notice the fast beating of your heart. Coach Yaga's whistle blows, causing you to look back up again. Players were making their way back onto the field and Gojo found his position at the center again. His eyes darted across the field, making their way onto the faces of each player, and then they eventually landed on you. There’s a glimmer in his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly into a small smile before he's looking back down at the ball by his feet. And then they start the kickoff.

UTokyo ends up winning 3-1, and by the end of the match the sun is starting to set, painting the sky beautiful hues of purple and orange. You lean over to pick your things up off the grass as the players make their final retreat to the benches, and you gently place your film camera back into its case when Gojo’s voice next to you makes you jump.

“Hey. Please don’t run off,” he says. When you turned to look at him, he was still breathing a bit fast and he had a flushed, almost serene, look across his face. “Give me your phone.” He extends his open palm out to you. 

“My phone?” You ask him, reaching for where it was located in your back pocket and pulling it out. He nods without any further explanation. You place it in his palm and he’s tapping away at it before handing it back to you. When you look down, you notice he gave a random number a call.

“That’s my number. Save it,” he says. You blink at him. His expression is soft for a moment and then he’s turning around and away from you, heading over to where his teammates were crowded around one of the tables and giving each other pats on the back.

You tip your head to the side to watch him as a couple of his teammates sling their arm around his neck and smack his chest, masculine laughter and jokes filling the air. You can’t help but smile before you pick up your things and start making your way up the hill away from the field, back towards the heart of campus. 

---

The following days of the week where you don’t see Gojo play soccer seems like a waste, because why weren’t you spending every single day of your life watching him play soccer? You sigh to yourself at the question as you use clothing pins to hang up the film photos you took up onto a wall in your school’s photo lab. You finished developing the photos from Monday’s practice match, only to realize that you accidentally took them on one of your black-and-white rolls instead of full-color. You step back to take a look at all the images you had clipped onto the string pinned to the walls, snapping a shot of the collage with your phone, before pulling them all back down and stuffing them into a Manila folder. 

The only time the photo lab wasn’t bustling with other film & photography majors was usually after sunset, but by the time you finished having dinner with one of your friends on campus, you had made it there around 7PM. By the time you leave and make it to your parked car, it’s pitch black outside. As you step inside your car and turn the key to ignite the engine, the windshield wipers automatically swiping as the control lights inside come to life, the clock on your dashboard reads 10:37PM. 

The GPS for some reason prompts you to take an alternative route back to your apartment that avoids the freeway in an attempt to save you from twenty minutes of traffic, and you consider what to do for a moment before the exhaustion in your bones convinces you to take the allegedly faster way home.

As you begin to head in the unfamiliar direction, the excitement you had to make it home as soon as possible slowly starts to dwindle more and more as the streets morph from well-lit and bustling with people to dark and surrounded by trees instead. What used to be a three-lane street turned into one, and you count the seconds between every passing car you see coming by in the opposite direction. You’re worried when your counting makes it past sixty seconds. 

You turn your music up in your car to distract yourself from the fear of driving down the secluded and dark road. There was a slight fog settling up ahead in front of you to where you could only see clearly about thirty feet ahead. You spot something on the road, blinking rapidly to focus your vision, and then your eyes widen when you realize what it was. Rocks.

You’re instantly swerving your car to the side, attempting to deftly avoid the scattered rocks but unfortunately you drive over a few of them, causing your tire to pop and you let out a scream when you lose handle on your car. One of the rocks flies up and hits your windshield, cracking the glass, and suddenly you’re driving up over the curb to the right before you finally regain control of your car and swerve back onto the road, slamming on the brakes.

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, adrenaline rushing through your body, and you grip onto the steering wheel while you try to regain your breath. Your windshield had a large crack in it, large enough to where the cold air from outside was whistling its way inside your car, and you were slanted in your seat due to the punctured tire at the front. As you took deep breaths, you noticed how alone you were on a dimly lit street where you hadn’t seen a single car in more than five minutes, fear and anxiety surging through your body. Your hands reach for your phone, shakily turning it on and exhaling in relief when you see that you have reception, then call the emergency telephone line.

“Hello, how can we help you?” a feminine voice on the other end of the line says.

“Hi, um,” you say, voice sounding shaky, “I just got a flat tire on Musashi road, about five miles from the Main Street intersection. I don’t have a spare on me, and my windshield is cracked too…could you send roadside assistance?”

“Yes, absolutely,” the woman says kindly and begins to take down some information from you. “Thank you, ma’am. Unfortunately, there has been a big accident on the freeway, so many of the tow-trucks and officers have been dispatched to that area. It may take about an hour for help to arrive. Are you able to call someone to come stay with you as you wait?”

“Oh…” You press your lips together in thought. “Yes, I should be able to.” After working out a bit more logistics with the woman on the other line, you hang up and then you’re scrolling through your contacts. You first call Mina’s line, which goes straight to voicemail, and then you remember that she was out of town for tonight and half of tomorrow visiting her family. You call Nobara, who also doesn’t pick up, and then a couple of your other friends who go straight to voicemail as well. You start to panic slightly before calling your friend Maki who lives two hours away.

“Hello?” You hear her voice say when she picks up.

“Maki! Oh my gosh, thank you for picking up,” you say to her through the phone, your hand on your chest as you sigh. You explain your situation to her and she’s instantly providing you with soothing words. 

“Is there no one that can come stay with you? I feel awful that I’m so far away,” she says.

“It’s okay, they said that help will be here in maybe fifty minutes now…I just really wanted to talk to someone,” you say, peering out into the darkness of the night. You’re still shocked you haven’t seen a single car drive by in the past ten minutes. You pull your phone from your face to check the time and see a notification on your phone that says 5% battery remaining. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Maki asks worriedly.

“My phone is running out of battery…” you say with a defeated tone. Your anxiety starts to rise in your chest again. “I don’t know if I can stay on the line.” You scroll through your contacts again, finger halting the screen when your eyes land on another name. “I…I think I have someone else I can try calling.”

“Good, try that. I don’t want you to be stuck out there with a dead phone and a flat tire. Let me know if this person doesn’t pick up, okay?” She’s saying to you and you send her your location before hanging up.

You’re breathing heavily from fear when a particularly harsh gust of wind pushes more cold air through the crack of your windshield. Pulling your phone from your face, you click on the name in your contacts and bring your phone to your ear. It rings once, twice, almost a third time before you hear a click and then a voice.

“Y/n?” Gojo’s voice calls out, sounding surprised. 

Hearing his voice immediately causes a wave of relief to wash over you and you lay back in your seat, having to muffle the abrupt sob that threatens to erupt from the tightness in your throat. “Hi,” you whisper.

“Hey, is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Mm…no,” you admit to him, sniffling slightly and swiping at the stray tear that rolls down your cheek with the sleeve of your shirt. “I’m just a bit scared right now.” Your voice cracks towards the end of your sentence and you silently berate yourself for not mustering enough emotional strength at the moment. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he says, his voice starting to sound uneasy. 

“I was driving down this road, it was dark, I couldn’t really see much…but I ended up driving over these rocks and my tire punctured. I called for roadside assistance and they said it would take about an hour for help to arrive,” you ramble, “I tried calling Mina, and some of my other friends to come and wait with me, but-” You run out of breath to finish your sentence and you’re sniffling again. 

“Send me your location, I’m heading over right now,” he says and you hear what sounds like keys jingling in the background along with some other shuffling noises, “can you stay on the line?”

You pull your phone from your ear and see that you’re at 3% now before sending him your location. “No…my phone is running out of battery.” 

He’s silent for a second on the other end. “It says I’ll be there in twelve minutes. Just…hang tight, okay? Make sure your doors are locked.” 

You nod before remembering that he can’t see you, so you say I will. He’s hesitant to hang up on you but when your phone flashes from 3% to 2%, you tell him you don’t have much of a choice and then he’s giving you another word of caution before reluctantly hanging up. You’re all alone to your thoughts in your car again, shaking from the anxiety and blinking tears away. 

The twelve-minute wait felt so long, and eventually Gojo texts you that he’s one minute away when your phone is at 1% battery. You see headlights approaching behind your car in your rearview mirror, the first sight of another human being you’ve seen in probably the past thirty minutes stepping out of the driver’s seat and you immediately recognize his silhouette. He walks up to the passenger side door and tips his head down so he’s visible through the window. At the sight of him, you finally release the breath you were holding in before opening your car door and stepping outside. You both look at each other across the top of your car and you notice him letting out a deep breath of his own as his shoulders relax at the sight of you. 

He makes his way wordlessly around the front of your car to you and he’s studying your face intently. You look away from him when you realize he could probably tell that your eyes were puffy and that you had been crying. From your periphery, you see the back of his hand reach out when he’s right in front of you, hesitating slightly before it briefly brushes against your cheek, dabbing at a tear that you must’ve missed. His hand is warm against your skin and the sudden desire to hug him consumes every single fiber of your being, but when you look up at him, the soft expression on his face renders you still. 

“Thank you for coming,” you’re whispering to him.

He lets out a short comical exhale through his nose. “I wasn’t going to not come. What kind of person do you think I am?”

You shiver as another gust of wind passes through, crossing your arms across yourself. Gojo slips the jacket he was wearing off, revealing a beige sweater underneath, and then he’s circling around you to place it over your back. It’s cozy and it smells like him.

You’re about to voice your concern for him but his voice behind you cuts you off. “I run warm, don’t worry.” 

He walks around to the front of your car, bending over to the side to assess the flat tire at the front, his hands shoved into his pockets. You pull his jacket around you tighter. “Damn, the tread on your tires is horrendous. No wonder. You should really check on them more often.” He straightens himself up and peers at the crack across your windshield. “And that’s definitely not gonna be cheap to fix.”

You sigh in annoyance, his casual tone causing your eye to twitch slightly, but when you noticed your heart was calm and your breathing was normal again, you looked at him with the realization that him just being here managed to soothe you. 

He looks back over at you with a considerate expression. “Do you want to sit in my car? It’s chilly out here.”

You press your lips together before shaking your head. “I feel like I need the fresh air.”

Gojo’s walking over to the patch of grass on the pavement at the side of the road and sits down on the curb. He pats the spot next to him with an awaiting look on his face and you make your way to him, sitting to his left. He looks down at the distance you’ve put between the two of you, almost three feet, and he’s sighing before scootching closer to you. “Don’t be greedy with your body heat. I said I run warm, not that I’m a furnace.”

His shoulder brushes against yours and his knee bumps against your thigh as he gets comfortable. You bring your legs closer to you and wrap your arms around them, resting your chin on top of your knee. Gojo was leaning back onto his outstretched arms behind him, legs extended in front as he tipped his head back up to look at the sky. You look over at him. His gaze slowly shifts from one point in the sky to the other, and you wonder what he’s mapping with his eyes. 

“Thank you for getting the referee permission for me,” you say, realizing you never thanked him in person. “I’m excited to take photos out on the field next week.”

“Sure thing, my freaky little photographer. I’m sure you are,” he chimes. 

You stick your bottom lip out in an annoyed pout. “So, we’re even now.”

He looks over at you and smiles. His blue eyes were a bit darker underneath the starry sky with less light to reflect off of them, and the quality made them look gentle. “No, you’ve gotta make sure Mina stays interested in Todo.” 

You can tell he’s just joking, but you respond as if he’s serious anyways. “That was never part of the agreement,” you say, “besides, I don’t really think that’s necessary. She seems to be pretty taken with him already.”

He laughs. “And you’re not worried about that?”

“What’s there to worry about?” You ask.

“I don’t know, the fact they hit it off so fast?” He shrugs and you feel the friction of the movement against your shoulder.

“Hmm, no. Mina’s a smart girl, she’s good at sniffing out those red flags,” you say assuredly before lifting a suspicious eyebrow at him, “should I be worried? He's your friend. Enlighten me.”

Gojo shakes his head musingly at your concern. “Todo’s a good guy,” he says in a soft voice.

“He’s not on the soccer team, right? I didn’t see him the past couple of times I was on the field,” you say with realization.

“Nah, he’s just a mad lad I met in my freshman year econ class. We’ve been friends ever since,” he says, swaying his knee from side to side. “He’s the one that got me to join the frat.”

You two are silent for a moment, listening to the noise of the wind through the trees and crickets chirping in the distance. The previous anxiety you had from the night completely dissipated into peacefulness instead, and the man beside you was responsible for that shift. 

“Can you tell me what that offer was that you were so excited about earlier this week?” he asks.

You look up to the sky briefly, trying to remember what he was talking about. “Oh. I might be able to publish the photos I take of the game next week to the sports recap in the school newsletter,” you say.

He turns his head to look at you, eyes widened. “Woah, seriously? That’s so cool. Can you make sure I look hot?”

You roll your eyes and go back to resting your chin on your knees. “Sure.” 

A comfortable silence settles before he’s speaking again. “What inspired you to be a film photographer?” He’s turning his body so he’s facing you a bit more directly. 

“Well, the end goal is film movie making…but my professor says that it’s important to understand the art of film photography before that,” you say, twiddling with the zipper of his jacket. “He says that ‘if a filmmaker cannot master the single frame shot, then how can they possibly put together a film composed of a million of them’?” 

Gojo is humming beside you and nodding in agreement. He turns away from you to face forward again and he starts tapping his foot on the pavement of the road. “Huh. That’s kind of similar to something coach says during drills.” 

You glance over at him, a little surprised. He continues to stare forward with a somewhat innocent expression on his face, and then you can practically see the moment another question pops up into his head. 

“Why don’t you make your Instagram public? Your photos would probably get a lot more views or likes that way,” he says in an excited tone, like he’s cracked some code. 

You let out a small laugh and bury your face into your knees, your voice sounding muffled when you speak. “I did have it public for a while. Until a troll spammed a bunch of hate comments on my posts and I quickly switched it to private after that.” Saying it out loud, you felt a bit silly. You’re apprehensive as you say the next few words. “I guess I’m scared that I’m not good enough to be acknowledged or successful, and that somehow other people will see that truth before I can.”

“Oh come on, y/n,” he’s saying beside you, gently nudging your arm with his elbow. The contact causes your breath to catch in your throat. “You just have to go for it. You can’t accomplish anything if you don’t face your fears.” When you watch those words leave his mouth, you notice he now has a thoughtful expression as he stares ahead to the other side of the road.

Another beat of silence goes by. “Why did you start playing soccer?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a long time as he blinks, to the point where you’re unsure if he even heard your question, but then he finally answers. “My dad used to play in college. He introduced me to the sport when I was younger and I fell in love with it.” Your perk up slightly and tip your head to the side in curiosity. He’s looking down at his lap now.

“That’s really wonderful, Satoru. Was he also center forward in college?” When you ask him this, you don’t miss the way his eyebrows pinch together for a split second before his expression relaxes again. 

“Yeah, he was,” he responds, “he got injured in his last year, though. Never got to play after that.” There’s an inflection at the end of his sentence that makes you think he’s about to say more but he doesn’t. 

Your face softens when you see him stare down at the curb with a slightly troubled expression. In a moment of tenacity, you place your hand on his thigh and his eyes widen when he sees the movement before he’s looking over at you.

“I’m sure he’s really proud of you,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to brush a few strands of his hair away from his eyes. Both of you are shocked at the intimate gesture and you’re quick to withdraw your hand. 

Your faces are close, his side still pressed against yours, and neither of you break eye contact. You take a moment to study the handsome features of his face and your heart aches a little. The cold air has you licking your lips and Gojo’s eyes dart to them, gaze lingering, and you blink slowly when he leans forward slightly. Blue eyes find yours again and he stills himself, searching your face for something, and when he doesn’t see it he continues to lean forward and you lean towards him too. And then his lips press against yours, so chaste and so light that it’s possible you could have imagined it, but just when you feel his warm hand cup your face and he’s about to deepen the kiss, a loud honking noise startles the two of you and you both jump, pulling away from one another. You see Gojo’s face illuminated with bright golden lighting as he winces and holds up one of his hands in front of his face to shield himself from being blinded by it. 

You turn your head to the left towards the source of the light and see a tow truck approaching. “Hey! Is this the flat and windshield crack?” you hear the driver shout out from where his head was stuck out the window.

You’re speechless, cheeks feeling flushed from the realization that Gojo had just kissed you, and you turn to look at him. He silently stands up with a weary exhale and a calm expression on his face and then shoves his hands into his pockets. “Yeah, it is.” He makes his way over to the tow truck and you hear him make conversation with the driver as well as the man in the passenger seat. You’re still sitting stunned on the curb, bringing your fingers up to gently touch your lips that were still searing from earlier. Gojo’s suddenly standing in front of you and you’re staring at his legs before you tip your head back up to look at him.

“Do you have any valuables in your car?” he asks, jerking his head in the direction of your car.

“Ah…my phone and my tote bag,” you say. He crouches down in front of you, earnest eyes level with yours, and his hand reaches into the pocket of his jacket where you had stashed your keys. He removes only your car key from the ring, handing the set of other keys back to you, and then he’s unlocking your car to get your stuff out of it.

You remain on the curb, watching as Gojo handles the entire interaction with the tow truck helpers. When they’ve successfully anchored your car to the tow truck and one of the men comes around to shake Gojo’s hand, you see him reach into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and handing the man some cash. You stand up in a bit of a panic and head over. 

The tow truck is already pulling away with your car from the curb when you make it in front of Gojo. He hands you a business card with the towing company information on it and then looks down at you with a mild demeanor, letting out a long exhale. “Ready to go home? You’ve had a long night.”

Exhaustion suddenly consumes your entire being and you hesitantly nod. 

The interior of Gojo’s car is nice. It’s clean, smells like him and pine, with nice leather seats that have warmers. You’re still wearing his jacket, clenching it tightly around you, as he inputs your apartment address into his GPS and starts to drive you home.

Neither of you say a word to one another during the ride. You watch his hand tighten its grip at the top of the steering wheel occasionally as he drives. He turns his car into the entrance of your apartment complex and parks in the loading zone. You watch as he makes his way out of the car to the passenger side door, opening it for you. You step outside and thank him.

“It’s okay, I’ll head inside from here,” you say, already feeling like you’ve caused him enough trouble. You abruptly remember that Mina isn’t home and the realization that you’ll be all alone tonight creates a hollow feeling in your chest.

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Come on,” he says, walking past you to make his way to the elevator and pressing the up button. It dings before immediately opening and he walks inside like he’s the one that lives here. He places a hand out to hold the door sensors when he sees that you don’t follow him inside. You jump out of the mild trance you were in and quickly rush in before he withdraws his hand and the elevator door shuts. 

“Which floor?” He asks, finger hovering over the control pad. You tell him three. 

Once you reach the third floor, you step out into the hallway and he follows suit. Your apartment was just seven units down towards the right and the two of you eventually made it to the door. You turn around to look up at him. His expression becomes slightly distressed and when you don’t say anything to him, he shoves his hands further into his pockets and sways back and forth slightly. 

“Alright, mission accomplished, I got you home,” he says with a forced jovial tone, a hand rubbing the back of his neck. You notice he does that when he seems nervous about something.

Your mind recalls the kiss from earlier, the feeling of Gojo’s lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed up against you in the cold, the tender way his hand held your face still so he could have more of you, only for it to be cut short. Your heart is beating fast in your chest and your cheeks flush with warmth. He’s looking down at you intently and you’re looking up at him pensively. 

You didn’t want to admit it to yourself. Not yet.

Your hands reach into your tote bag to pull out the keys to your apartment. “Yes, home.” He watches you jingle the metal in your hands. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” he says and he takes a step back. Turning around, you push your key into the keyhole with shaking hands, turning it, and open the door to your apartment, letting yourself inside. You look at him from the entryway with the door still ajar. 

“Good night, take it easy,” he says to you.

“Thanks, you too.” And then he’s out of your sight as you shut the door.

You lean back against the front door, letting out a sigh and biting down on your lip, the thumping of your heart pertinent throughout your entire body. There was a lingering truth to all of the emotions that you’ve been having recently. It followed you in the early hours of the morning, it followed you as you tried to fall asleep at night, it was present in the silence, lurking in the dark, and it was there with you tonight for every second that he was by your side.

You had feelings for Gojo Satoru. 

a/n. thanks sooo much for reading and i hope you enjoyed aaa idk this week felt off for my writing for some reason but i heavily edited it so i hope it came out okay in the end.

➸ take me to chapter six!

tag list: @who-can-touch-my-boob @getitsatoru

#anime #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #geto suguru #nanami kento #choso kamo #toji fushiguro #yuji itadori #aoi toudou #yaga masamichi #alternate universe #college #college au #soccer #sports au #fraternity #sorority #tw drinking #partying #romance #smut #fluff #angst #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk smut #series #kiss

[bitterie-sweetie]

Fake it til you make it

Pairing: Jeonghan x reader Genre: fluff, fake dating WC: 6.5k Warnings: alcohol A/N: yes it's about vday buuut it's actually for @syuperseventeen's bdayyy!!! surprise surprise! happy birthday nat, i hope this year is even better and filled with many things to look forward to <3

Your Valentine’s date with Jeonghan is coming up and yet the only thing on your mind is how to break up with him. Of course breaking up with someone is difficult, but you’d argue that what’s more difficult is breaking up with someone you never even dated.

Jeonghan is a prankster. 

Growing up, you’d often be on the receiving end of his pranks at school. Third grade “initiation” had you drenched in water after he told you to pin a cup against the wall with a straw, and in ninth grade you had tears streaming down your face after eating an entire scoop of wasabi—not the matcha ice cream he said it was. Then there was the time he did something to make your first crush hate you, which, in hindsight, was a good thing because the guy turned out to be a total asshole. 

It wasn’t Jeonghan’s fault entirely when you were too willing to fall for his pranks because being the target of a prank meant having his attention, and that’s something that you wanted. Jeonghan had a way of making everyone feel special, and his attention was a limelight that you never wanted to step out of. 

Honestly, you might’ve kept up with it if he kept going. But then that fateful day came and it was like you were suddenly on his side, working with him instead of being the victim to his antics, and you’d say that that’s what has kept the two of you together after all these years. 

Well, at least until now.

“Hey,” you greet in a rush, looking around the table at everyone and seeing that you’re truly the last one to arrive. Usually, you’d give that place to Lee Chan; he’s the most popular of your friend group and almost always has a prior appointment to your meetups. “Sorry I’m late. My train was delayed and—oh, did you already order for me?” 

Jeonghan slides a sealed bubble tea across the table and sets it in front of your seat—the one empty chair right beside him, no less. When you glance at him questioningly he shrugs and tilts his head towards the crowd at the front. “The line was too long so I ordered yours with mine. Hope you’re feeling like your usual today.” 

Indeed, the sticker on the cup shows that it’s your go-to order. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you. Thanks, babe.” 

Today’s meet up with your friend group is the first of the year and it’s also the first time you’re seeing everyone since Chan’s wedding… including Jeonghan. You would’ve spent Christmas and New Year’s with him had he not cancelled on you, and now that bit of distance has manifested into a larger uncertainty for you over the past while. Even now, the ‘babe’ seemed to come out awkwardly, sticking to your throat.

“Wow, you guys are actually disgusting. I hope you know that.” Seungkwan makes a face at you, and beside him, Soonyoung nods a few times in agreement. 

You plaster on a smile. “It’s okay to just say you’re jealous.” 

The only response you get is an eye-roll from Soonyoung, and then everyone moves on, thankfully. Mingyu asks you what you’ve been up to so you talk about your recent promotion at work and some new habits you’ve started in the new year, and when you sense that the conversation is starting to approach the territory of your future with Jeonghan, you gently steer it towards Chan. After all, he’s the one that got married just a few months ago, and you know he would never miss the chance to talk about his amazing honeymoon and how great this new chapter of his life is going.

There is truly nothing like adult friendships and its quarterly updates. 

Once there’s a bit of a lull in the conversation, Jeonghan turns to you. “What are you doing this week?” 

“Oh, this week?” Your heart speeds up tenfold at the uncertainty of what might come next. “Hmm well, it’s Valentine’s Day.” 

“Yeah, exactly.” He nods and much to your relief, there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. “So I’ll see you for our date then?” 

“Of course, babe.” 

“Can’t you guys do this somewhere else?” Soonyoung says as he stares daggers in your direction. You totally understand and sympathize with that though; today you’re turning up the sweetness more than usual to compensate for the distance you actually feel, unfortunately at the expense of your friends.

Jeonghan completely ignores Soonyoung’s complaint and doesn’t even look his way. “That’s good,” he says, leaning back in his seat and almost looking relieved at your answer. “I was afraid my darling might not have time for me anymore.”

“What? No way. Did you have anything in mind for our date?” 

“Hmm, yes but it’s a surprise. I’ll text you the details later.” 

“Well, uh, I have to run,” Chan says, slowly getting up from his seat. The rest of you hardly bat an eye, having gotten too used to his busy schedule. “It was nice seeing everyone. You guys should come over for my housewarming once everything is set up.” 

Mingyu stands up too. “Oh, I actually have to go too; got a dinner with Wonwoo later.” 

…On second thought, perhaps you overcompensated a bit too much with the cringe. Soonyoung and Seungkwan leave soon after getting a call from their roommate, Seokmin, and then it’s just you and Jeonghan at the table. Still seated side by side, your arm occasionally brushing against his. 

“How have you really been?” he asks in a low voice. 

“Decent, I guess, despite the winter blues and all. It’s pretty much what I said earlier.” You shrug when he remains silent. “Why do you ask? Do I look depressed or something?”   

“No,” he shakes his head with a laugh, “not depressed, exactly, but I wanted to see if you’re as sad as I am about not seeing each other in so long.” Then he leans in a bit closer, as if to whisper a secret. “I missed you, darling.”

It’s times like this when you feel like he’s toeing the line. There’s a small smile lingering on his lips and a softer look in his eyes, not at all like the overdone sweetness to the point of sarcasm from before, but you can never tell if he really means what he says or if this is just part of the act. 

Regardless, it makes your face feel hot and it makes you unable to look directly at him. 

“Oh… yeah,” you say, trying to make a quick recovery. “It’s too bad we missed out on the holidays but at least we get Valentine’s Day.” 

“Yup, that’s exactly why I have something special in mind for that day. I want to make it up to you, darling.” 

You give him a smile and then go to take a sip of your drink, and that’s pretty much the end of the conversation. Despite saying he misses you, it’s interesting how he doesn’t explain why he bailed on the holidays in the first place, and you don’t know whether you should ask about it at this point.

Or if you should even be curious about such a thing. 

Jeonghan pulls you out of your thoughts with a brush of his hand on yours. “It’s getting dark. Let’s head out?” 

You agree and then let him hold your hand, lace his fingers with yours, and then lead you out of the shop. He doesn’t let go until you cross the parking lot and get to his car. It’s strange, you think. You can’t seem to recall the last time the two of you held hands so naturally like this especially when there’s no one else around. 

In fact, when the two of you are alone, the sickening sweetness is always toned down but not completely dropped. Now, Jeonghan’s smiles are softer around the edges like they’re less exaggerated, less of a performance, and when he calls you darling, his voice is quieter and isn’t at all coated in the sticky honey you’re used to. When he hugs you goodbye at your door, it’s a loose hug and almost has a degree of uncertainty. 

Jeonghan steps back but lingers just for a second. “I’ll see you in a few days for our date, darling.”

“Of course,” you put on a smile, “I can’t wait, babe.” 

He waits until you get into your building before giving a little wave and then heading on his way. 

After you close the door behind you and collapse onto your bed, you heave a sigh and finally let the smile slip from your lips. So there would be a Valentine’s date this year after all; the anticipation makes your heart speed up the slightest but at the same time makes you all the more anxious. You thought that he really would end things today, and if not, that you should be the one to do so. But seeing him after so long, feeling the way the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin, basking in the brightness of his smiles, you simply couldn’t utter those words. 

Perhaps Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be the right time to do it either, or maybe your date won’t end up happening for whatever reason. You know that this is something you have to do, but the question is how exactly would you go about doing it? Because there is one major problem. 

You’re not dating Jeonghan at all. 

One moment in high school is what started this whole thing.

It was eleventh grade drama class—which Jeonghan thought would be fun to take as an elective—that resulted in the two of you being cast in the school play. Although neither of you landed a role that was remotely close to important, Jeonghan decided to have fun with it and improvise during your one minute of screen time and that somehow turned your insignificant cameos into a beautiful romance that had the audience rooting for you. 

And that very moment somehow managed to embed itself so deeply in your relationship with Jeonghan that it became a long running joke to this day. 

Today you’re sitting across from Soonyoung and Seungkwan again, with Mingyu beside you this time. Almost an exact replica of last week’s meetup, but Chan already has plans and Jeonghan is very obviously missing—something Soonyoung points out immediately.

“Wow, no Jeonghan today?” he says loudly even before the hostess is out of earshot. The people at the two tables nearby glance in your direction and you start to regret coming here at all. “We really won this one. Y/N, we should do this more often.” 

You definitely should not. “Um, yeah. Totally.” 

Last week’s meeting with your friends is what gave you the idea to consult with them about your situation. You first suggested the idea to Mingyu, and then used the prospect of free food to get Soonyoung and Seungkwan to come out, and naturally, Chan is busy so it ends up being the four of you at brunch. Which is better on your wallet, you think. You get the feeling that this quarterly meetup can totally happen more often if you were to make this offer every time. 

As for what you’re about to ask… well, truthfully, you still don’t know if you should even do it. You’ve gone so many years without saying a word that it’d simply be odd to ask now, plus you would run the risk of making everything weird. But if you don’t do it, you would only end up making it weird anyway because how much longer can you go on pretending?

Besides, it’s not only you and Jeonghan who are prolonging this inside joke for way longer than it should’ve lasted. All of your friends should be in on it if they treat the two of you like a couple too. 

The waiter comes by to take your orders, and you try not to wince at the entire list that comes out of Soonyoung and Seungkwan’s mouths. Mingyu gets the least, seemingly knowing that something is up if the worried glances he throws your way is anything to go by. 

Once the waiter leaves, that’s when the small talk stops and all eyes turn to you.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Soonyoung asks with a goofy grin. “Since Jeonghan’s not here, does that mean you need help with Valentine’s Day plans or something?” 

Beside him, Seungkwan has the complete opposite expression as he eyes you warily between sips of his americano.

You take a huge swig of water like it’s liquid courage, and then go for it. “This is going to sound weird…” you start, trying not to notice the way Seungkwan tenses up as if bracing for your words, “but I wanted to ask you guys what my relationship with Jeonghan is.” 

Silence. Complete, dead silence. 

Soonyoung freezes like he’s in a photograph while Seungkwan’s hand holding his americano hangs in mid air as a drop of the drink dribbles down the side of his lip. 

“Sorry, what?” It’s Soonyoung who recovers first. “I think I heard that wrong.” 

You shake your head. “Just tell me.” 

“You’re asking us what your relationship with your own boyfriend is?” 

“Boyfriend—exactly!” You have to hold back all the thoughts you have on the topic. “Yeah, that’s what I mean. So you think he’s my boyfriend? That we’re dating?” 

Soonyoung frowns but it’s Seungkwan who answers, exasperated. “Y/N, what are you trying to say here? Are you trying to say you guys broke up? Or do you think we don’t know you well enough and this is a test? Can you say whatever it is directly—” 

“Jeonghan and I aren’t together.”

There, you said it. Your biggest secret is out.

It should make you relieved to finally let out the secret you’ve been harbouring for years or it should at least alleviate some of the weight on your chest, but it doesn’t. The silence in the wake of your confession only closes in on you and makes it all the more suffocating.

“Any—anymore?”

“No. We were never together.”

The bit of silence from earlier repeats itself. Maybe you should become a speaker or presenter with your ability to draw such reactions from a crowd.

Seungkwan noisily sets down his drink and then leans forward with a frown. He’s still in denial, that much is obvious, and he narrows his eyes as he asks, “Is this a joke? A hidden camera? Are you trying to prank us like Jeonghan—”

“No, I’m completely serious. It’s really not what it seems, and this is why I’m asking you guys what you see us as because at this point I don’t even know the answer myself.” 

With a deep breath, you tell them the truth about this entire thing.

You tell them about the high school play and your impromptu acting, and how that led for the two of you to become the famous couple at school afterwards. Sure, it might’ve been a good thing because that meant your acting was believable. But to two people who were interested in just about anything except love at that age, it was annoying and gross. 

After the show when the shippers wouldn’t stop, the two of you decided to do what you do best—pull a prank. You spent that Valentine’s Day together as a joke and acted extra disgusting to mock couples while making fun of how stupid people were to believe whatever you showed them. In twelfth grade, the two of you did the same for Valentine’s Day and then even went to prom together as a joke. 

In recent years, however, the annual joke of a Valentine’s Day date has turned into his Christmas and your Lunar New Year, his cousin’s graduation, your coworker’s housewarming, and Lee Chan’s wedding. It’s made you on a texting basis with his sister and it’s made him familiar with all your favourite food spots and go-to orders. It’s turned him into someone who’s simultaneously as distant as an acquaintance yet closer than a best friend. 

And so, here you are, living an entire lie because you and Jeonghan had the whole world fooled.

“That’s insane,” Soonyoung says when you finally finish the story, unable to look your way and instead, stares into his drink with how mind blown he is.

Seungkwan, on the other hand, remains a bit skeptical. “Okay, but then what was with all that PDA?All the kissing? Is this some sort of situationship?” 

“Oh, um.” Immediately you can feel your cheeks heating up. You didn’t think this far at all but now it seems like the entire truth will have to come out. “All of it was fake. We’ve… never actually kissed.” 

That drama class has taught you more than you needed to know about manipulating angles and the audience’s perception, and Jeonghan is very good at it. Your fake kisses were often just a trick of the angle or occasionally using the thumb trick, and having seen the evidence captured in photos over the years, you know how convincing it can look.

Now, it’s embarrassing to admit for reasons you never would’ve imagined. Admitting to pulling a childish prank like this is one thing, but the realization that you and Jeonghan have faked it for so long without ever once making it real has you feeling almost dejected.

“I always knew Jeonghan was crazy but I didn’t know he’d be *this* crazy.” Soonyoung now has his head in his hands and is staring off into space. “This is the most insane story I’ve ever heard. I’m not sure if I should be happy for you or sad.” 

You give a wry smile. “Yeah, well, I get why you would think we were together though. You met us in college and wouldn’t have known about what happened in the past so I guess there would never be a reason to question it.” 

Beside you, Mingyu clears his throat and you turn to look at him. He’s been so quiet throughout your story that you were too busy focusing on the reactions of the other two, but looking at him now, his reaction is entirely different. Mingyu isn’t as surprised as he is concerned. “Actually, Y/N, a few years ago…” he says hesitantly, “there was a time when I asked him if you were actually dating.” 

“You did? What did he say?”

“He didn’t deny it.”

“Well, we all know how he loves to be ambiguous and leave things a mystery.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “No—see, that’s what I thought too, but it was different that time. At first he didn’t deny it, but when I pushed a bit more, he said that you’re dating. In actual words and with the most serious look I’ve ever seen on his face.” 

This is news to you. You always assumed that they were all in on the joke and would’ve never guessed that anyone actually asked Jeonghan, but the fact that he answered that way is all the more baffling. 

“I don’t get it. Why would he tell you that?” 

“Yeah, so,” Soonyoung says, “from then on we all thought that was fully confirmed, and he never said or implied otherwise.” 

“Right…”

Mingyu nudges you gently. “Y/N, are you telling us about this now because you’re planning on stopping the act? Has it been bothering you? Or did something happen?” 

“Is that why you wanted to tell us today?” Soonyoung lets out a dramatic gasp and leans all the back in his chair, hands over his mouth. “Don’t tell me—are you going to stop the act because you have a crush on someone?”

“What? No, definitely not. It’s not that, it’s—” 

Here’s the next part of your big secret being revealed, something you weren’t entirely ready for but you tell yourself that this needs to happen. 

It’s because of your feelings for Jeonghan. Your very real, very genuine feelings that have nothing to do with this prank.

Truthfully, you can’t pinpoint when you started feeling this way, much like you’re not sure how this joke was able to stick around for so long. It could be the most recent development—when your friend tried to convince you to hop on a dating app, all you could think about was how wrong it felt because you already had Jeonghan. Or maybe it was the Valentine’s Day just before college graduation when he leaned in so closely you thought he was going to kiss you, for real this time, and then only realizing much later that you were disappointed that it wasn’t real. 

Or perhaps it started way back, to the time he asked you to prom—he said he didn’t have a date only for you to later find out he’d already rejected two promposals from other people. All for your fake relationship, supposedly.

And now, for you, what has started as a harmless prank has turned into something much more than that over the years. 

Everyone looks like they're at a loss for words after that part, and even Soonyoung has lost his enthusiasm after hearing it. “Shit, that’s…” he starts. “Okay, yeah, I’m definitely sad for you.” 

Seungkwan and Mingyu have similar sentiments but you wave them off, eager to lighten the mood again after such heavy topics. The food on the table has been long finished and you’re beginning to feel like you’re overstaying your welcome when there’s a crowd waiting at the front of the restaurant. “It’s fine, it’s whatever. I just wanted to get this off my chest today so that I can figure things out before I see him in a few days.” 

A while later, you finish paying and then all head out together. 

The conversation continues to replay itself in your head, and you realize there is one thing you’re curious about. You turn to Mingyu. “By the way—Mingyu, why *did* you ask Jeonghan if we were actually dating?”

Mingyu stops mid-stride and freezes like a deer in headlights, clearly not expecting your question at all. “I—um, I was asking for a friend.” 

“A friend?”

“Yeah, Chan.” He nods a few times in a row. “I thought Chan had a crush on you and I was trying to help him out.”

Strange, seeing as you’ve probably interacted with Chan the least among your friend group. He’s simply too booked and busy to hang out with you, and has been all throughout your college years together. 

Oh, and he’s married.

“Like, before he met his wife?” you ask.

Soonyoung starts to cough furiously from where he is a few steps ahead while Mingyu’s cheeks redden the slightest bit. 

You vaguely remember the first time the two of you did this, and how it wasn’t anything like how it’s going now. 

Tonight is the night you’re supposed to go on your date with Jeonghan, and you’ve been buzzing with nerves since the night before. You have no idea what to expect for tonight since all he told you about it was to show up at his apartment, and that in itself was slightly concerning as you’ve never been to his home before nor has he been so secretive about any plans. Usually the two of you would be going to a casual place or would have the schedule shared ahead of time if it was a more formal event that needed preparation. 

Jeonghan buzzes you in when you arrive and before you can say you’ll wait for him in the lobby, he tells you to go up to his unit. Again, a bit strange. You do as he asks though, and then even go to knock on the door when there’s no sign of him coming out.

When he opens the door and steps aside, that’s when everything clicks—you’re not here so that he can get his car and take you to your date location. This *is* the date location.

Beyond the doorway, you can see that his apartment is completely decorated. Rose petals line the sides of the hall and lead to the dining table, covered in a deep red tablecloth and perfectly set for your meal. Beside it, a large bouquet of roses rests at the center of the sideboard surrounded by a row of flickering candles which light up the space.

Even without knowing what his home normally looks like, it’s obvious that all this would’ve taken a lot of effort to set up.

“Jeonghan, why did you prepare all this?”

He gives you a dazzling smile. “Because my darling deserves the best, of course. I told you I was going to make it up to you for cancelling Christmas.” 

“Babe, that’s too sweet of you. You really didn’t have to.” You try to return his smile but it doesn’t come easy when this whole situation is overwhelming. Then you let him take your coat and then guide you to the dining table where everything is set up. 

Only when you’re seated do you realize that his response doesn’t answer your question at all. 

The scent of the roses fill the room and looking at them gives you a pang in your heart. This is what the two of you used to make fun of—these big, romantic gestures, and the couples that willingly eat them up. Now it’s as if the tables have turned and you don’t know what to think. 

If this were in public, in front of your friends or other people, you would’ve said that it was another funny gesture that Jeonghan put up for the sake of making them cringe. Because the two of you were the perfect joking, prankster couple, right? 

Now that it’s just you and him here, it confuses you as to why he’s going to such lengths for a joke when it’s something that no one else would see, when there’s no audience to watch his performance. 

You watch as Jeonghan busies himself in the kitchen, serving the food that he’s prepared and pouring the wine into glasses while glancing your way every once in a while. He looks pleased, you note, and he should be if he got his space to look this beautiful. But you can sense that there’s something else too, almost like a nervousness that sits on his shoulder every time he breezes past you and makes eye contact for the briefest second.

After everything is ready, he finally takes a seat across from you and the dinner begins.

Making small talk is easy at first; you comment on your surprise at this type of date, talk about how cold it’s been lately and how it sucks that your company is forcing you to go back into the office. You ask him how his holiday went and how his family has been, and mention how cute his sister’s new puppy is after seeing a post about it on her social media. 

You know you’re just delaying the inevitable. Somehow you get the feeling he knows it too, judging by the way his answers are shorter than usual and how your conversation feels so superficial. So this time after there’s a lull in the conversation, you decide to go for it.

"Jeonghan, um…"

"Hmm?" He looks at you and waits for you to continue, but you don't. Or rather, you can't. "Ah, you're going to comment on how good this is, right?" he says instead, as if supplying you with a way out.

You're all too eager to grab onto it. "Wow, you read my mind." An enthusiastic nod, a slight look of surprise. "It's amazing. Did you make all this yourself?"

Jeonghan shakes his head and then follows up with a sheepish smile. "Partly. The rest is store bought."

Another nod, and then it just ends there again. Seated in this spot with the soft lighting of flickering candles cast against the wall and the heat of Jeonghan's gaze on you, the feeling of discomfort only grows. It's hard to remember what the two of you were like before, during the days when everything seemed so silly–when each move was a clearly defined act between two actors and the world was your stage. And most importantly, when each smile he showed you didn't send your stomach into somersaults or your mind into a loop of second guessing. 

The air is so heavy and stifling that you grab your glass and down a large gulp of the wine. At least when you're drinking, you wouldn’t have to speak, whether that might be responding to him in a way that gives away all of your thoughts, or completely spilling them out yourself. Maybe the alcohol will also drown out some of your anxieties and–

"Hey, slow down." Jeonghan glances at you with worry. "We have all night."

You set the glass down, albeit a bit reluctantly. "Right, sorry. This wine is just so good."

Yet another lie, but what's one more at this point? The wine is much too sour and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You would've much preferred a soda or bubble tea, and drinking something fancy like this during such a fancy occasion makes you feel like you're pretending to be someone you're not.

Which is exactly what you're doing, isn't it? You've been living a lie this entire time.

You briefly wonder if Jeonghan feels the same way—the two of you have never properly spent time alone in complete privacy, and to have your first time be in such a formal atmosphere must feel strange. But if he's uncomfortable, he makes no sign of showing it. Or maybe he's always been the better actor of the two of you.

“You know, since you mentioned seasonal depression, I was thinking that for Christmas this year we should go somewhere. Somewhere warm and sunny to get away from the cold.”

“Oh, this year?” you repeat stupidly when you can’t quite believe what you’re hearing. Jeonghan wants to continue this thing? And here you were, thinking that he was about to end it at any moment for the past few months. “Um, yeah. That would be nice.” 

“Or it could be a fall trip. Your parents have been wanting to go see the leaves change colour, right?” 

There’s no hint of sarcasm on his face and no playful twinkle in his eye, and even though no one can read him very well, you know enough to tell that he’s being serious. You also know that what he’s saying makes no sense at all.

“Right, yeah. They’ve been wanting to do that.” 

“Y/N, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply automatically, and then reach for another long gulp of your drink. “Yup, all good.”

Jeonghan frowns, a tiny crease appearing between his brows. “Are you sure? If you want to talk about it, I’m here to listen.” 

It’s strange, the way he looks at you. Jeonghan, who dances around questions and deflects easily with humour and only shows people what he wants them to see, now has worry filling his eyes as he waits for you to continue. As if he *knows*.

You doubt Soonyoung and Seungkwan would have spilled your secret so easily, but there’s a great possibility that the two of them would be unable to act normal around him after what they learned, and unintentionally hint at the truth. Then there’s the other possibility that Jeonghan knew way before any of this. Because maybe he—

No, you don’t want to think about that.

“It’s just that,” you say, having to force yourself to pause and slow down your thoughts before something terrible comes spewing out. A slow inhale, a shaky exhale. “Why are we here, Jeonghan?”

His frown deepens, but now it’s turned into confusion. “What do you mean?”

“What are we doing? This date has been nice, but I’m just very confused over why you put so much effort into this when there’s no one else around to see it. Weren’t we doing all of this as a joke? As a prank? Pretending to be a couple so that we can fool the world since that’s exactly what they wanted to see, but joke’s on them because we’re not?” 

Jeonghan watches you silently with an unreadable look on his face. “Is that how you feel?”

“’Well, yes, because isn’t that the truth? And now, we’ve been doing so much together that it doesn’t feel like a joke anymore. How can it be when your mom is offering to give me homemade side dishes? Or—or when Chan’s wife was there, smiling at us on her wedding day like she wished we’d be just as happy as they are?” You pause to look at him and then proceed to look away. “How long are we going to continue lying to the world? Because I can’t stand the guilt.”

The last part of that may be true, but it’s not the full truth. 

“Yeah, you’re right. We don’t have to keep doing this.”

“W—what?” You stare at him, dumbfounded. 

Jeonghan sighs deeply and then meets your eyes, but then quickly looks away. “Yeah, we should’ve left this in high school. The joke has kind of gotten old, hasn’t it?” 

You have no idea what he means by any of that, but it feels like you’re better off not knowing. The tension in the air is thick, and even when you imagined your fake breakup hundreds of times in your head, this is not something you could have predicted. It’s as you’re on a precipice, and one wrong move will delete all those years, all that time you spent with him. 

And the worst part is that you don’t even want to break up.

“Jeonghan, look. I know all of this is supposed to be a joke, but why is it that it feels like you really do care?” One last deep breath before you make the jump. “And why is it that I *want* you to care?” 

That has him stunned for a second, so much that the expression is obvious on his face in a way that almost never happens. 

“Wait, what? I do care. No, I get that we started all this for fun back then, but that’s not how I feel about it now. Everything we’ve done is real—trust me, I wouldn’t have brought you to my family if that wasn’t the case. And I never thought I was lying to them. It’s exaggerated, yes, and much too dramatic, but I’m not a good enough actor where all that can be based on a complete lie.” 

You braced yourself for the final blow, only to be completely confused over his words. “What are you saying?” 

“Y/N, it’s always been real to me. All of it.” 

“But—but I thought you wanted to stop all this when you cancelled our plans for Christmas. Why did you do that?”

Jeonghan opens his mouth a little but then closes it again. “Do you remember last year at Chan’s wedding when you caught the bouquet?” 

You nod but don’t hide your confusion about where this is going.

“After you caught it, everyone was looking at you… and then at me. It was like they all expected us to be next, because well,” he shrugs, “everyone thought we were together. And that’s when I realized that this is more than simply feeling like it’s real. We were turning it into something real.”

“So you called off Christmas because you wanted to stop doing this? Because you hated how it was becoming real?” 

“No,” Jeonghan shakes his head. “The opposite. I was afraid of how much I liked that it felt real. That day at the wedding, I—I wanted to kiss you for real, Y/N. Not have to fake it.” 

“Oh…”

“If we did meet up for Christmas, I don’t know what might’ve happened. I thought it was safer to stay away for a bit and gather my thoughts.” He hesitates slightly and you can see the pained smile he has on. “But one day into the holidays and I was already regretting my decision.” 

You don’t know what to say to that. Your mind is hardly listening anymore when it keeps on repeating Jeonghan’s words like a broken record, screaming to you that it’s real, that all of it is real. That you’re not the only one who’s been feeling this way, and that you won’t need to stage a fake breakup for your fake relationship. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“I’m just—are you sure all this is real? Jeonghan, are you being serious?”

He breaks into a tender smile. “Don’t you remember? I already answered you back then, Y/N.”

“What do you mean?” 

“You asked me if I’d be your darling, even if thousands of miles may separate us, even if—” 

“—if the paths we walk may crumble,” you finish off. “Or something like that. I actually have no idea what we said back then.”

Those were the lines in the play that you did back in high school, the very lines that the two of you conjured out of thin air one day and the very moment that started this whole thing. 

“Yeah, that,” he says softly.

“Hmm, so, babe,” you put on your usual mockingly sweet tone, repeating the line that you said on stage many years ago, “are you going to kiss me?” 

Jeonghan holds back a smile like he can’t contain his happiness, and follows with his line without missing a beat. “If that’s what my darling wants.”

The smile only widens when he gets up from his seat and you go to meet him halfway, and it’s the last thing you see when he leans in closer and closer. Jeonghan gently slides his thumb between his lips and yours as he closes the distance, like how it was done the very first time, but this time you can feel it as he slowly moves it away. 

Then you’re kissing him, actually kissing him for real for the first time. His lips are soft and warm, and the bit of hesitance between you seems to completely melt away as you wrap your arms around him and he pulls you closer. You let yourself drown in his scent, the warmth of his touch, and the loud pounding of your heart now that you no longer have to be paying attention to the reactions of the people around you. Nothing else matters anymore, all that matters is what you have now.

You spend the rest of the night catching up, whether that’d be stories over the years of shared memories, or creating new memories to make up for the lost time. He tells you he loves you and that the trip suggestions were very much real, and the two of you laugh over how you’ve become the exact couple you once mocked. It’s easy to understand them now though, you think as Jeonghan gives you a sleepy smile as you’re cuddled up on the couch.

“Oh yeah, I wanted to ask something,” you say, and he looks at you in alarm at your abruptness. “Why did you tell Mingyu that we were together?”

Jeonghan stays silent for a bit, narrowing his eyes as if having difficulty recalling what you’re talking about. Then he finally answers. “Oh that?” He chuckles. “That was because I didn’t want him to think he had a chance with you.”

#jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fic #jeonghan fic #my fic #if you asked me just last week if i was ever gonna post again #i might've said no HAHAHA #truly this came out of nowhere!! and yes it's so rushed OTL #not a brand new idea tho bc it's smth i've been thinking about over the years #kinda inspired by an iconic tumblr post!! #tbh the first jeonghan fic on this blog was gonna be #his story of the holiday party series (i wrote 6k in dec and gave up) #was gonna scrap it but i reread it this week and it's not bad?? #so try again this year ig 🤡

[inuyashaluver]

Queen! Ur writing is always so perfect 💋 would u consider writing something for Mearps?

tiktok exposure - mary earps

mary earps x reader

description: in which your secret girlfriend exposes your relationship on her tiktok

warnings: reader gets slapped with a tortilla - funniest warning i’ve ever written in my life, little swearing, unhinged but so am i

a/n: omg, lovely, you’re so sweet! thank you for the kindness and the request, hope you enjoy ❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, mary were in a relatively ‘secret’ relationship. your friends, family and teammates all knew about it, the only people really left in the dark was the media.

there wasn’t any specific reason for it, you and mary just thought it would be better this way in the beginning stages of your relationship. but the thing is, you’ve been dating for over 5 years and people still think that you and mary are just affectionate best friends. slowly but surely, you both didn’t want to hide it any longer.

—

you met mary in the england youth teams. originally, she didn’t like you at first. you were a forward and she was a keeper, and even though you were on the same team, her body would burn in anger when the ball you sent to the back of the net would graze her fingertips everytime.

you were always labelled a sweetheart, one of the nicest girls on the team by a long shot and no one could deny it, not even mary.

she always claimed she didn’t like you but as the time progressed, she began to admire you. mistaking her ‘dislike’ for intrigue.

to ‘settle your differences’, you and mary were forced to room together at every camp, meaning the two of you would talk and goof off together. it was clear to your teammates that you both liked each other, so with a gentle push, mary made the first move and asked you out. and ever since then, you’d been inseparable.

—

you and mary ended up playing together at all the same clubs, labelling the two of you as the unstoppable best friends, something that the two of you would laugh about.

—

it was the women’s world cup, you and mary getting called up for the senior team at the same time in your shared flat. it was nerve wracking, yet exciting, as everyone had good feelings about the tournament.

during this time, your girlfriend had grown quite a love for frequently posting on tiktok, making random videos with your teammates everyday. occasionally she would vlog and get you to say “hi” the comments always saying how cute your friendship was.

“hello, everyone! millie and mary here,” mary holds the phone while she sits on the plane next to millie, you’re sitting behind her. “we’re gonna play around with this guess the country filter while everyone is sleeping” mary says in a lame attempt of a whisper while her and millie cackle.

millie glances around the plane until her eyes fall on your sleeping figure. “literally everyone is sleeping right now, look at your girl over here” millie gestures to you and mary’s face lights up, she lifts up her phone to show you sleeping next to maya, both of you bundled up in hoodies. though what mary didn’t realise, was that you were wearing her hoodie.

“sleepy girls” mary coos before laughing and propping the phone up so they could continue the video.

“what’s that?” millie asks

“jaw, teeth? mail teeth?” mary says in full confusion

you woke up to the loud laughs of mary and millie with a groan, you peer over the front of your seat to see the two of them goofing off on mary’s phone. you’re visible in the camera, your tired eyes evident on your face.

you slap them both on the back of the head and they both let out a gasp in surprise, snapping their heads to see a very grumpy you staring down at them.

“too loud” you grit out and mary smiles up at you affectionately, moving her hand to pinch your cheek gently. “sorry, love” she laughs, millie blows you a kiss in apology and you couldn’t help but smile. before you sit down, you wave at the camera, “it’s india” you say simply before sitting back down, hearing the excited yells of astonishment at your correct answer.

the video blows up, specifically the comments saying how funny you all were. there were some comments saying how you were wearing mary’s clothes and some saying the way mary looked at you was anything but friendly but fans were quickly shutting them down.

everyone truly believed the two of you were best friends but the video began to decay those opinions. the speculations were growing and you and mary honestly found it quite funny.

—

you and mary room together, forcing you to film as many videos as she could with you. her tiktok page filling up completely with random videos during the day or challenges she would do with different teammates.

the social media admin was also having a field day with all the content being released from mary, they’d also been releasing their own. one that sparked a lot of interest in particular, was one of you and mary arriving to a game.

she’d gotten off the bus first and waved to the camera, grabbing your hand and helping you walk down the stairs. when you reach the ground, you look up at her and smile affectionately before she bends down slightly, showing you her back.

you instantly take the invitation and she piggybacks you while you wave to the camera.

“i only arrive in style” you joke at the camera, throwing it a wink as you rest your cheek against mary’s. “what about me?” mary mocks, you just smile and nuzzle into her.

in the distance, ella is speaking to alessia, “i wish my partner was here so i didn’t have to walk” she jokes, it’s barely audible but fans picked it up right away. at this point, you and mary didn’t really care, you were just being you and having fun and that’s all that mattered for the both of you.

—

though, a video that fully confirmed your relationship was made by mary. she’d begged you to join her on a challenge and claimed it would be extremely funny.

“baby, please, it’ll be so good!” she pleads, hugging you from behind while you brush your teeth. “can’t you ask me later?” you muffle out, mouth full of toothpaste and she laughs affectionately. kissing your cheek repeatedly as she squeezed your waist gently. she stares at you in the mirror and you give in easily, “fine” you groan, finishing up brushing your teeth as she squeals excitedly.

you had training today, both of you agreed to film the video at the training facility as it involved water.

she’d clearly already organised this, when she walked you in the room, the entire team was there and had brought all the materials.

you laugh in disbelief as your water bottle and tortillas are thrusted in your hands. “what are we doing again?” you smile at mary while she gives the phone to another tiktok expert, esme to film. “so we fill our mouths with water and then do scissors, paper, rock and then whoever wins slaps the other person with the tortilla” mary explains, all the girls are in fits of giggles excited to see the video happen right in front of them.

you shake your head amusingly but agree, laughing when mary gives you your tortilla. she does a quick intro with her arm slung around your shoulder. “hello everyone, me and this hottie over here have a great video for you today, enjoy!” she says cheekily, you roll your eyes at the pet name and ignore the teasing coming from behind the phone.

you fill your mouth up with water and try not to laugh at mary’s appearance, she was clearly trying to make you laugh and it took everything in you to hold it in. you send her a warning glare before holding your hands up for scissors, paper, rock.

you win the first one and gently slap mary’s cheek with the tortilla, clearly missing the challenge. people awe at you from behind the camera and you look at them confused, mary swallows her water and laughs. “you’re so cute, (y/n/n)!” millie yells and you try not to laugh at her.

“you need to slap hard!” mary exclaims, your eyes widen but you nod, gesturing for her to continue. you win again and look at mary trying not to laugh. you slap a little harder but still quite gentle and mary smiles at you, swallowing her water and pulling you into a little hug.

“i’ve picked the wrong person to do this with” she coos, you swallow your water and laugh when she cradles your head to her chest. “you’ve gotta slap me really hard with it, love, don’t hold back!” mary smiles at you before separating again.

you get back into position and do scissors, paper, rock again, this time mary wins and you look at her nervously. she smirks and lines the tortilla up next to your face. you let out a little squeal in fear as she pretends to slap you but doesn’t. the team laughs brightly at the interaction, some of them a little scared for your cheek.

mary finally slaps you with the tortilla and your eyes widen in shock and you spit out a little water in the process. the slap was hard, so hard that she broke the tortilla in the process. people let out shocked gasps and laughs as they watch you recover. you were trying not to spit out your water from laughter but failing completely, you keep laughing with little spits of water coming out of your mouth while you hold your cheek.

mary looks at you in shock, swallowing the water and cradling your face between her hands. “baby! oh my god, i’m so sorry” she looks into your eyes and smiles when she sees you laughing.

“shit, mearps, the gym is working out for you” you joke, she kisses your slapped cheek repeatedly as an apology and you can feel yourself growing warm. “i’m so sorry, my love” mary says earnestly, you kiss her cheek back and tell her not to worry about it.

you walk up to the camera with a big grin, showing them your cheek with a laugh. “confirmed, mary earps is a tortilla abuser, slapped her own girlfriend” you joke, mary laughs brightly from behind you, “oi!” she hoists you over her shoulder and you let out a gleeful laugh, she playfully slaps your behind and runs off. esme stops the camera and the girls watch it back together, pissing themselves laughing at it.

mary takes you to a hidden corner of the room and pulls you into a loving kiss, it lasts for a couple seconds before she pulls back and inspects your cheek. “i’m so sorry, baby, i overestimated the strength of the tortilla” she laughs, “it’s okay, babe, now i can say mary earps slapped me with a tortilla, big achievement” you shrug, she smirks and closes the gap, kissing you again quickly before walking towards the girls again.

—

the video blows up, becoming one of the most popular world cup videos as well as the confirmation of your relationship. everyone claims “they knew it” on the video and sending the two of you support. now that everyone knows, mary will make couple tiktoks with you and feeds everyone in the woso community their favourite couple content.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill!!! - just pretend it’s you xx ily chlo

liked by mayaletissier and 44,232 others

1maryearps: when she confirms the relationship 🫦

view all comments

yourname: mary earps slapped her own girlfriend with a tortilla

↳ 1maryearps: i said i was sorry!

↳ yourname: YOU. SLAPPED. YOUR. GIRLFRIEND. WITH. A. TORTILLA

↳ 1maryearps: I’M. SORRY.

↳ yourname: you’re lucky you’re cute

↳ mbrighty04: you’re the cutest (y/n/n)!

↳ yourname: no you mills!!

↳ 1maryearps: i’m sorry, am i missing something here?

↳ mbrighty04: mind your business

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #mary earps #mary earps x reader #mearps

[inklore]

sending a little commander mills thot 💖 stopping for the night in a dark, deep cave. sharing a bed roll quickly turning into something more, as you end up on your hands and knees beneath him. there’s a rattle of stones near the entrance and his large hand is pressing over your mouth to keep you quiet - his senses on high alert for danger. but even then, mills can’t help the shallow rock of his hips - unable to resist how good you feel

warning signs

pairing: commander mills x (f)reader

word count: 1.1k+

contents: unprotected p in v, creampie, small amount of dirty talk, i didn't classify what planet they were on but threats are occurring, slight enemies to lovers, rough.

note: i'd let this man have his way with me in an open warzone and i have no shame about it because this idea has me insane.

You should have known. 

You should have known this planet would be nothing but a bad omen when you had to emergency land on it. When you lost contact, your ship deciding to stop working properly. When the only way of getting out a signal was to rig the system built within the interface of the hunk of metal. Ultimately destroying any chance of getting out of here on it but allowing you to get out a weakened signal, you hoped your home planet would come and swiftly send someone to you before this planet showed just why it was inhabitable by those who walked on two legs and didn’t prefer the taste of game. 

You should have known that Mills would be the worst person to crash land with.

Should have known he’d only raise your blood pressure and have a permanent scowl curve your brows until it gave you a headache. 

And you really should have known that he’d be this big. 

His stature alone suggesting that was more to him than broad deltoids beneath those clothes. More than just deadpan looks and side eyes of scolds and warnings behind those iris’s. Behind the moments and trips the two of you have taken together over the years. 

You should have known that his cock would stretch you like this. Making your insides burn when he thrusts inside of you. Your walls accommodating something that’s bringing you pleasure at the same time it has you mewling in pain—something big and hot and heady that’s making your fingers dig into the dirt. 

Your back arched at an angle that has your body scraping forward against the ground every time Mills snaps his hips against your ass. His cock going deeper and deeper—the tip hitting that spot inside of you that makes your body want to run from him, want to escape the pleasure and the sting of him going past what your bodies used to—his nails digging into your hips. Moonshaped marks embossed in your skin as he holds your ass in place. As he refuses to let you squirm away from him.

Because you wanted this, didn’t you?

“You’ve been begging for it.” He says with a heavy breath. A groan mixed somewhere in there, you’re sure of it but can’t decipher it fully with how you sound. How the back of your hand is covered in your own drool and bite marks from trying to muffle the moans and whines coming from your mouth. 

There’s a rock under your knee that has left an imprint into your bone, has cut the skin with how your body is moving. If you focus on it hard enough, you may even feel a trickle of blood. Or the indents of stone and caked on dirt on your elbows. 

But all you can feel—all you can hear, sense, smell—is Mills and what he’s doing to you. What he’s doing to your body and how you never want him to stop. Never want to go back to the time when the two of you pretended there was nothing there. 

The thrusting of his hips imprinted on your nerve endings, and you can’t imagine a time, a moment, or a place where you don’t want him to bend you over something and take you. Have you. 

“Who knew all you needed was my cock to have you so compliant.” Mills grabs the back of your neck. His grip just as rough and embossed as the fingers at your hips. The weight of his chest drapes over you in a way that has you pushed further into the ground and your ass higher in the air, shoving his cock to the hilt, a cry falling from your lips. His name coated in a pleading whimper. 

“Next time you’re not listening to me, all I’ll have to do is fuck you, huh? Bend you over and fuck you until you’re ready to admit who’s in charge here.” 

There’s some part of your psyche that wants to fight against this. That wants to throw his words back in his face with something snide and angry, but you’re fucking pudy between his fingers, and he’s molding you into a perfect compliant hole for him. 

Into someone who wants to follow his orders just as long as they get his cock in return. 

But you still open your mouth to try to tell him just as much. To ask him to fuck you harder or agree with him, you’re not sure because it dies in your throat.

The words fall to the pit of your stomach as the both of you stop in place as your body feels the soft rumble of something moving outside of the cave. The rustling of trees, rocks, and branches being stepped on. 

“Mills,” you murmur his name. Soft enough for him to hear but apparently too loud for his liking as he shushes you. His hot breath against your ear, his hands maneuvering your legs so they’re underneath him now as he lays on top of you. The massive width of his chest makes you feel engulfed in him. 

His hair against your cheek, his breath held in his lungs just like your own. 

You try to listen. Try to hear anything approaching, growing closer to your indisposed state. The two of you not in a position to move as quickly as you should to protect yourselves. Mills not seeming to be as on edge as you are, the faith he has in himself to grab his gun quickly enough if whatever is outside moves in closer, is almost aggravating. 

Your mouth parts to tell him this, to push him off of you so the both of you won’t die while he’s still hard inside of you. 

But instead of an argument, a gasp falls from your lips as you feel Mills rock his hips against you. The tip of his cock pulled back to your entrance only to be thrust back in slow, and agonizingly sharp all in one quick rock. 

“Mi-” his palm presses against your mouth, silencing you.

“Shhh,” he whispers against your ear. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been needing this, to fuck you.” His heavy breath and the deep timber of his tone as he tries to keep quiet, as he speaks the words for only you to hear, to know, and to feel, wash over your spine and lay achinly between your thighs where the shallow rock of his hips against your ass has your nailbeds housing rockbed as you try not to become a sobbing mess behind his hand. “You feel s’fucking good.”

And if the two of you were to die like this; with Mills rutting against you, his cock stretching you, his deep breaths and praises against your ear, your slick coating his length as you come, and his come leaking from you—leaving your pussy a warm and sticky mess as he continues to thrust inside of you even after the fact, as if he’s trying to keep all he can inside of you—then so be it. 

You’d die happy.

#commander mills x reader #commander mills smut #commander mills x you #adam driver smut #adam driver x reader #commander mills one shot #commander mills fic #commander mills #adam driver fanfiction #adam driver characters #adam driver fic #65 movie #thots !

[ugh-yoongi]

Jess' B-Day Hobi request:

Hobi x Reader - Amusement park date. Maybe cute and sexy, like reader feels bad for making him go on a particularly scary ride, so she blows him?

HAPPY BDAY JESS!! 🎉🎉🎉💜💜💜

this is so dfljlgdlkjgf. everyone please pray for hobi he really needs it.

swallow your pride

pairing: hoseok x reader genre: est. relationship au, pwp; smut warnings: this is mostly just porn, so — a handjob, oral sex (m. receiving which i'm sure you could've guessed), come swallowing, very slight overstimulation. use of pet names. i apologize for the extremely on-the-nose title but it had to be done. no pronouns used for reader. unedited. rating: explicit. minors do not interact. wordcount: 1k

You’ve barely crossed the threshold into your hotel room.

Perhaps naively, you’d thought it’d be fun. Thought you’d go on and laugh and grab on to one another and buy the mortifyingly ugly photo at the end. Add it to the stack of all the other mortifyingly ugly photos you’ve collected after years of dragging Hoseok on roller coasters he otherwise wouldn’t go within two-hundred feet of.

Clearly you’d thought wrong.

“I almost died—”

You sigh, pushing Hoseok far enough into the room to close the door. “It was Space Mountain, babe.”

He scoffs. Looks really affronted, offended that you think it so impossible that he could’ve died on Space Mountain. Which just isn’t true. He very well could’ve died—it was very dark and had a lot of sharp turns, not to mention he was a previously undiscovered shade of green by the time it was over.

Not to mention the photo.

Hoseok knew it’d be bad. Knew he hadn’t ridden a second of that roller coaster without the ugliest, most fear-stricken look on his face, and all he could do was try to cash in whatever good karma he had left that it wouldn’t be that bad.

And you—you’d waited for it to pop up on the monitor with the most wicked grin he’s ever seen you wear. So sinister it’d rapidly diminished any hope he’d managed to conjure up. Stuck out your credit card to buy it before he even had a chance to beg.

“That’s not—w-what are you doing?”

What you’re doing is planting both of your hands on his chest to push him onto the bed, rolling your lips to keep from laughing when his knees hit the edge and he tips backwards, overpriced Mickey ears falling off and bouncing to the floor.

What you’re doing is dropping to your knees in front of him, nudging his legs apart to kneel between them. Hoseok’s breath catches in his throat when you start to undo his belt, and it’s instinct, the way he sinks into the mattress, busies his hands in the sheets. Knows to keep them to himself.

What you’re doing is—“Blowing you,” you answer. “That alright?”

“Uh-huh,” comes his automatic response. “Yup. Per-perfectly fine.”

What you’re doing is unbuttoning his jeans and dragging the zipper down, sly smile on your face, tongue pressing into the fat of your cheek, as it strains over his erection. What you’re doing is pushing the denim down to his knees, ghosting your nails along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, delighting in every small gasp that makes it past his lips.

There’s a way Hoseok likes to get sucked off, and it’s almost never like this. Hoseok has never shied away from his neuroticism, and that innate need of his to be in control bleeds into every aspect of his life, including here, so maybe you shouldn’t be, but you’re surprised at how pliant he is beneath you. How subdued. Surprised that his hands are still gripping the sheets and not the back of your head. Surprised that his hips are staying level to the mattress, that his mouth isn’t running a mile a minute.

“You’re being awfully behaved,” you note, eyebrow quirking in question.

He blinks, head lolling forward to ask, “You gonna try to dom me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” you retort, taking his cock in your hand. He’s already so, so hard, flushed and leaking precum. “I’m simply assuaging my guilt.”

Hoseok snorts at that. “Because I almost died?”

You spit in your hand, stroking him once, twice. There’s something about the way he shudders in your grasp. Makes you feel powerful, has a quiet whimper of your own slipping through your parted lips. All of it just serves to rile him up even more, his hips rolling in time with your wrist.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” you say, unable to help yourself; unable to keep the awe out of your voice.

And Hoseok, the cheeky fucker, preens. Closes his eyes and smiles up at the ceiling, not a hint of shame to be found. “What are the od—fuck—odds of you apologizing with your m-mouth?”

You pretend to think it over. “Hmm.” Lean in closer, your breath ghosting along all that sensitive skin. “Pretty high, I’d say.”

There’s another tart comment on the tip of Hoseok’s tongue, practically visible in the stale air of this hotel room, but it dissolves into nothing but a guttural groan once your lips are finally wrapped around him. Tapers into staccato whimpers as your throat constricts and you swallow. He’s still rolling his hips, fucking into your mouth, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping the sheets tighter every time he hits the back of your throat.

Hoseok has never once denied himself of anything. This included.

Spit pools in the corners of your mouth, drips down your chin. Messy, just how he likes it, and there’s nothing more dizzying than Hoseok in the throes of pleasure. Nothing that drags you to the edge faster than watching him go mindless from the indulgence of it. Makes it nearly impossible to focus, but you want to unravel him all the way, want to be responsible for it, want to push him to the brink of overstimulation.

On you go.

It’s so much—your hollowed cheeks, the way you’re fisting at what doesn’t fit, the sounds both of you are making. Has his balls tightening, has him stuttering out your name in a pathetic little whine. Has him so disoriented that the first drop of cum hits your tongue before he can warn you.

“Fuck, fuck—baby I’m gonna, shit—”

He spills into your mouth with a cry, hands finally moving to the contours of your cheeks. And normally you’d take it easy on him, swallow and move up the bed to kiss him just as sloppy, sit on his face, but something about Hoseok in this moment has you feeling undone. Has you wanting to ruin him entirely.

So you keep going.

Hoseok’s eyes go wide. He panics, tries to pull you off, but you know him. Know he wouldn’t let you if he really didn’t want to, just needs a minute to push past the discomfort. You also know you’ll be paying for this later, after he’s come back down to earth, but you’re finding it hard to care.

After all, he almost died. You’ve got a lot to apologize for.

#hoseok smut #jhope smut #bts smut #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts x reader #hoseok imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfic #bts fanfic #fic: jess drabbles

[miguelschamp]

bigger than the whole sky

pairing: luke patterson x fem!reader

summary: you get a haunting call before your boyfriend’s big performance

warnings: pure sadness

a/n: there’s a severe lack of luke imagines here and i’m hoping to change that lmao

“you’re gonna come see me perform, right ?” luke asks as he laid beside you

you turn to him with a smile, “duh. what kind of girlfriend would i be ?”

“i just wanna make sure.” he chuckles, “it’s the orpheum, baby. it’s a huge deal.”

“i know.” you say sitting up on your arm, leaning over him. “i’m so proud of you.”

instead of responding, he pulls you by your waist to straddle him. you lay your hands on his chest to hold yourself up.

“this is gonna change everything.” he says, “the guys and i are gonna make it big. touring all over the world. it’s gonna be awesome.”

“i hope i’m in there somewhere.” you joke

“of course you are.” he says squeezing your thigh, “i wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

you giggle, “that’s sweet, but we both know it’s because of how insanely talented you are.”

“i’m serious.” he smiles before his face softens, “you’re the only thing that keeps me going.”

you look between his green eyes before leaning down and planting a soft kiss to his lips. he accepts gratefully before you pull away. you instantly nuzzle your head into his neck. he wraps his arms around your shoulders as you sigh.

“i love you.” you mumble

luke smiles, “i love you more”.

•••

you were getting ready for luke’s performance when you got the call from bobby. he was frantic as he spoke to you. you could barely catch what he said, but what you did know was that something happened to luke, reggie, and alex.

that was enough for you to run out the door and rush to the orpheum. as you pulled up, you could see the haunting red and blue lights. you quickly parked before getting out and rushing over.

you hadn’t even registered the officers standing around. one of them puts their arms out as you walk up.

“i’m sorry, ma’am. you can’t pass.”

“my boyfriend is over there. i need to make sure he’s okay.” you say

“i’m sorry.”

“please.” you try

“y/n !”

you turn to see bobby walking over. you meet him halfway urging him to let you know what happened.

“they went to get some hot dogs and i guess they weren’t good.” he says. you furrows your brows.

“well, are they okay ? they won’t tell me anything.” you ask

bobby’s eyes sadden more if that were even possible, “y/n/n..”

“what ?” you say softly. you turn back toward the ambulance and that’s when your heart drops. you could see EMTs rolling three gurneys over toward three different ambulances. all of them covered with black bags.

“no.” you say, “no. no. no.”

“y/n.” bobby says as you try rushing over again.

“ma’am, you can’t.” the officer says as she puts her hands out.

“my boyfriend was in this accident. i need to know if he’s okay. please tell me that he’s okay.” you plead

the officer’s eyes soften as she watches you. your eyes begin to water as you watch her face. “i’m sorry, ma’am.”

you shake your head, “no. no, please. luke ! luke !” you call out as the officer holds you back. bobby runs over grabbing you and pulling you back. you thrash in his arms as you get further away. “stop. no !”

“y/n/n, please.” bobby says

“no.” you cry, “luke !”

you knees give out under you sending you falling to the ground. bobby bends down beside you as you sob. his arms wrapped around you as you lean forward.

“no !” you scream, “luke !”

tears brim bobby’s eyes as he watches you. trying his best to comfort you seeing as he had also lost three of his best friends.

you felt like you couldn’t breathe. the boy you’ve loved for years is gone. he was just in your arms talking about your future hours before. holding you, kissing you, and looking at you like you were the only person to ever exist.

and now he was gone.

#luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #charlie gillespie #julie and the phantoms #julie and the phantoms imagine #jatp imagine #miguelschamp

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day twenty: makeup sex

>>> this is the epitome of vanilla i’m sorry—i got carried away imagine just sweet passionate love making with geto and well here you go whores

>>> starring: suguru geto x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: breakup, angst, oral (f receiving) mating press, breeding, pet names. >>> wc: 4k >>> event masterlist

this is what hell must be like.

when gojo tells you the news, you laugh. you know he’s joking. despite his ghostly sick appearance and red eyes, you just know he’s playing a joke on you like always. you know suguru better than anyone. even gojo. you’ve been together in a romantic capacity for the better part of a year—though you’ve been together since you walked into class one day and declared yourself his friend. you know how depressed your boyfriend has been recently. you’re the one that’s been trying to piece him back together, patient and understanding and gentle as always. after haibara, you’re the only person he’ll even tolerate sharing his space—but not even you have managed to get him to open up. you know he must be questioning the nature of things as of late. the mission to protect the star plasma vessel changed him. but—to kill a village of innocents? his own parents?

“satoru, that’s not funny.” you shake your head, the more you stare at his sympathetically heartbroken face the more it sinks in that he is not joking. you stumble back into the table behind you, the familiar sting of tears ripping at the corners of your eyes.

“they want him dead.” he says with horror, though he seems to fight with himself before your very eyes. he shakes his head. “he killed them all…he..”

“i don’t care!” you cry out, heart pounding in your ears. “it doesn’t matter what he did—he had a reason! i know he did, satoru—please. he’s…he’s all we have.” you know just what to say to appeal to his heart, and know satoru feels some sort of debt to you—since he wasn’t able to keep suguru from diving off the deep end on his own.

he scrunches his nose. “i can’t kill him. not if i wanted to. tried already.” he grumbled, looking down at his shoes.

“you saw him!?” you say, quickly connecting the dots— you step up to shove his chest. he lets you, he deserves it, but the hurt on his face is clear. “you saw him and you didn’t think i’d want to go? what—“

“he didn’t want you there.” he says under his breath, making your jaw shut immediately. your eyes flash with something deeper than hurt, more like anguish. your eyes find the floor now, searching and scanning the tiles for the answer as to why. why he left you here. you would have gone with him. you would have done whatever it took to stay together. even hearing that your partner slaughtered villagers and his own family couldn’t deter you. you knew he had snapped—but he would never hurt you.

satoru slumps forward. “maybe he just…didn’t want to hurt you any more than this. maybe he knew he couldn’t walk away if you were there.”

you wish his words could make you feel better. in a way they do, they make you hope that he was thinking about you in those moments, at least. though the more you hear about him over the next few months from gojo, you doubt anything but his enlightenment carried any weight in his mind.

you’re as good as lost. you reject missions and skip class in favor of searching for any traces of his cursed energy marks with the special tools you specialized in, all to no avail. he’s gone for good. you shrink into yourself and finish your time at jujutsu tech as a shell of your former being. the shadows consumed the sunshine, you’re only able to push yourself as far as you need to in order to pass, but nothing beyond that. you feel like you only live on to spite him, to find him and confront him over all this—no matter the time that’s passed. you won’t stop until you find him again.

turns out, you didn’t have to do much searching. nearly two years after geto leaves, he shows up again. he’s sitting on your couch, giving you his signature soft smile as you enter your own home. you have to blink this mirage out of your vision—so you shake your head a little and rub at your eyes viciously. he hums your name, and your eyes fill with tears. it sounds just like always, like his own kind of love confession with how gently he lets it roll off his tongue. so much for that anger-fueled confrontation you’ve been dreaming of.

he says it again, standing from the couch. he watches your body tremble without knowing if he should stay put or step forward to hold you. he’s not stupid, he knows he lost the right to touch you a long time ago. but…it’s instinct to him. he comes closer and you don’t stop him. you just stare up at him through teary eyes, stabbing him with your pain and sadness and the feeling of betrayal. his hands hesitate to pull you into him.

“can i?” he asks, his brow ticking up in question. “i know i messed up, angel. i want to make it better.” he watches your face carefully, noticing how your brows push your worry lines forward. you’re thinking about it. and the fact you have to think at all hurts him a little, though the only person he can blame is himself. he doesn’t regret leaving. he doesn’t feel guilt over the deaths left in his wake—he hasn’t killed anyone who didn’t deserve it—nor did he feel any sadness over parting with his previous life. other than you, the only source of any negative emotion.

he left satoru and shoko. he left his teacher, his other friends at jujutsu tech. he convinced himself this was the only way, a clean break. he didn’t want it to be harder than it had to be on anyone—his fellow sorcerers. he knew you all would only try to convince him of a different path, that his relationships with his closest friends would be ruined if he had to use force to get away. in a cowardly way, he knew he couldn’t handle the heartbreak you would inevitably look at him with, akin to the look you’re giving him now, and the weakness you brought out on him was something he could no longer afford. so he made sure he never ran into you, hoping that as time went by, you would affect him less and less.

clearly, that did not go according to plan. he missed you deeply, your silken voice and warm touch was the only thing that brought him comfort during his darkest hours, you never shied away from him even when he was silent—when he was angry, irritable, and straight up rude to you, you still crawled into his bed and tugged his face into your chest. you disregarded his attitude every time, pulling the tie out of his hair and hushing him with the scrape of your fingernails against his scalp and the weight of your leg tossed over his hip. you didn’t let him push you away, that’s why you left him no choice but to abandon you. your love was too addicting in the end, though. he can’t make himself stay away—even with his renewed sense of self.

he kept coming back to the idea that you…you were different from satoru and shoko and nanami. again, you never shied away. no matter how difficult he made it on you, you remained by his side. was it too far fetched to imagine you may yet still?

you nod. he’s gentle, careful of being too foreboding and rough too quickly. he’s dressed differently, a black haori and long nagagi, covered with his patterned gojogesa. you think there must be some symbolism in it, maybe a jab to his old friend—maybe an allusion to the heian period he hoped to return to. his hair has grown a few inches, and he doesn’t keep it all pulled back anymore. you think he looks…good. he looks like him, like a regal leader—like he was always meant to be. he wraps his arms around your frame slowly, like he was afraid you would change your mind.

but then you slide your arms around him too, tucking your face to his chest with a stuttered sigh. deep relaxation. he blinks a bit in surprise, tightening his hold around your shoulders as one hand keeps your head trapped against him. his heartbeat is so steady—just like you remembered it. you close your eyes and breathe in his cinnamon bourbon scent, and tears slip down your cheeks as it comes over you in waves that this is real. he’s real, standing in your apartment with his arms wrapped tight around you like you were the one who disappeared suddenly.

“you’ve been gone for so long.” you choke out, your chest heaving a bit with your words—all the hours spent missing him cutting through your happiness to see him. he feels your body tremble, and he realizes that you’ve started to cry. he leans away from you, moving his hands to your face. “you left me here. you didn’t even say goodbye, suguru!”

he frowns, petting your hair down with one hand while the other remained cradling your cheek. you lean into the touch, his hands a bit more callused than you remember them being. they’re still so gentle, these same hands that killed his own parents. these hands that are covered in blood when they aren’t being gentle. but you don’t shudder, the chill of fear never creeps over your body. you know his hands will only touch you softly, with all his love. unless you asked for any different, of course.

“i know. i messed up, my love. i shouldn’t have left you behind.” he sighs, shaking his head at the tear tracks on your cheeks. “don’t cry. i’m here now. i’ll never leave you again. i promise.” he assured, his voice slightly deeper and huskier than it had been in school. he takes it one step further, “i came back to make you mine again. come back home with me. be my wife.”

you widen your eyes at this one, looking up at him with raised brows. “suguru—“

“hear me out, hm?” he smiles warmly, and it relaxes you a bit. you nod to him again, closing your hand around his wrist. “you never let me down…even when i probably deserved it. i don’t resent our friends. i love them! i wish to save them, to save you, my love above them all. please, i won’t ask you to be involved in my work. i just want you back. where i can keep you safe and really make this up to you. i’ll make you happy.”

“i never thought you were wrong—i knew there was more to the story…i..you know i will go with you.”

“pack your bags and i’ll tell you everything, then. you can decide how involved you want to be, i just don’t want you to feel obligated.” he insists, guiding you towards your room.

he stays true to his promise. you pack all the clothes you want to keep on hand and your valuables, and suguru tells you everything. from the mission with riko and toji, to his conversation with yuki, to the village mission and the little girls he found himself taking care of. he explains his thoughts—why this is the only way things will work. he doesn’t want it to be violent—he just loves you so much. he loves gojo, he loves shoko and nanami and yaga and even those that despise him. he wants you to live in a better world, where his twins and any kids you may have together can play freely outside without any worries of techniques and cursed spirits. where children of his that inherit his own ability will never have to endure this same fate. where gojo can relax and shoko never has to see another dead friend—not until old age, anyway. it’s peaceful. and it makes sense…you can’t be angry.

not when you want to hurry home and meet these girls of his, now about seven years old. they’ll be excited to have a mother figure, despite how young you both still are.

“i’ll do whatever will help you then, darling.” you affirm, setting your belongings by your door. “if you want me to lend you my power, i can do that. if you’d rather me stay out of the meetings and tend to the girls, i can do that too. we’ll see how it goes, hm? i’ll do anything it takes.”

your willingness takes him by surprise. he wanted to take you back home and show his devotion to you there, but your words breathe new fire into him. he knows the girls will be all over you the moment you walk in and he won’t be able to have you to himself properly anyway, but he has to worship his goddess. your room is spacious enough…and this would be the last time you’d be in it.

you know that look when you see it, even if it’s been a while. you giggle softly at him, dark eyes a few shades darker with excitement. perhaps he found your forgiveness sexy—maybe your own devotion. either way, the familiar stare lights a fire in your stomach that hadn’t burned in a long time.

“suguru…” you hum, keeping your own lusty gaze trained on him as you perch at the edge of your bed.

“anything?” he repeats your earlier words, stepping toward you. “like marrying me? i want to start my own clan.” he smirks the slightest bit, “and i want you as my wife. i want the girls to have my name, but i want you to give me more children of the same.”

you bite your lip. a family had always been in the cards for you and geto. you were probably far too young to talk about such things, but he was never shy about what he wanted his future with you to look like. you’re glad to see that hasn’t changed. gojo was right, your boyfriend just couldn’t bear watching your face as he left—or risking the heartbreak that would follow if you didn’t come with him.

“you’re built for it, love. divinely feminine and made to be worshiped. i do need to beg for forgiveness after all…” he hums, sinking to his knees in front of you. you part your knees for him from muscle memory, and he’s tugging your work slacks down your hips and pulling at the buttons on your top. he sighs with relief at the sight of you. partially because you were gorgeous, the other part because this was a view he didn’t know if he would get the pleasure of experiencing again. he holds your ankles, pressing tender kisses to each of them before ultimately picking your right leg to trail his lips along, his kisses growing rougher and more possessive the closer he gets to your folds.

you mewl and squirm under his affection, trying to muffle your own sounds with the back of your hand. he can’t help but chuckle just a bit at your squeamishness. it had been a long time—and at least the way you wiggle around his head tells him that you haven’t been with anyone since he left—thank god, he wasn’t really in the mood to kill anyone tonight. he was only in the mood to be here; contently slathering his spit along your pussy lips, humming at the tang of you that meets his tongue. he hooks his arms around your legs to drag your cunt closer, eager mouth suckling at the pearl between your legs with a satisfied grunt. your head falls back at the feeling of his practiced muscle flicking your hood back.

“god, yes sugu, feels amazing…missed you so bad.“ you sigh out, his warm mouth knows all of your secret spots, his tongue licking over each one like you had never been apart. he’s slow and meticulous with every stroke, letting you feel his rushed breath fan over your burning need. you’re almost to the point of begging for him already—when you had plans to give him a real piece of your mind the next time you crossed paths. here you are, letting him devour you at his own pace, agreeing to be his housewife or baby mama or the vice president of his cult—or some mix of all three.

he guides your hips to hump his face, the longer strands of black tickling the inside of your thighs with every languid ministration. you thread your fingers through the locks, relishing the hold it gives you to grind down on his lips, a heat only geto can bring you starts to ball up in your core. he kneads your thighs, making out with your pussy as a reminder that you’re back—he got you back. you are his again, but he needs your cum on his tongue to really convince him of that.

he dives deeper, sliding his mouth to your entrance and letting his thumb take over sloppy slow circles over your clit. you tug on his silky tresses at the roots, making him groan and speed up just a bit. it’s just like when you were teens—he can’t get close enough and you can’t stay quiet, though now that you are grown you don’t really have to.

“sugu—wanna cum for you, please…” you whine, feeling like you were rolling downhill, the feeling in your stomach so bubbly and warm you know you can’t hold out much longer. he nods his permission, now was not the time to deny you anything—though he wants your release so bad that he couldn’t tell you no if he wanted to.

he doesn’t have to tell you twice, his fingers move in a perfect rhythm with his mouth to drive you over the edge. you squeeze his face between your thighs, such a perfect feeling that he’s missed for far too long. your nectar made him even crazier—he calculated everything but how your love would control him. how this taste and the sight of you with your back arched and mouth open as you push your pussy against him repeatedly to ride out your high would have him doing anything in the world to ensure he got to see it again.

“we’ll marry when we get back to the estate.” he nods, pushing you back with a light shove—just enough to communicate his own need. your eyes flicker down to the layers he was removing to get to you—his bulge tucked tight against his hakama, trying to spring free. he growls a bit, frustrated with how good you looked laying against the pillows, how your body had thickened up in all the right places. you really were built to be a mother. he finally frees himself, finally bare to you for the first time in almost two years. he pushes a large hand through his hair, eyeing you with just a touch of that newfound craze he’s garnered. he pushes your legs back to your chest, clearly intent on using the mating press for its namesake. “it’s only right since i’m going to put a baby in you right now.”

he lays his length over your stomach, reminding you of how he’ll have to stretch you to accommodate him. he’s so long he nearly touches your belly button—and just as wide around. his balls always hang low—heavy and full as he stares at you with hazy lidded eyes, admiring the way you seem undaunted by the tall task of fitting him in your snug walls or letting him knock you up with the firstborn of the new generation, one that would grow up in a new world you would help him build. “i love you. i can’t get those years back, but i can give you the rest of my life.”

your eyes soften a bit, body melting into the mattress. he slides his cockhead along your soaked folds, arms tensing and relaxing at the feeling of your hole sucking him in—and who is he to deny you after all this time? “i love you too—“

you cut yourself off to suck in a breath as he rips the bandaid off—bottoming out and hushing you as you squeeze and writhe around him. “you can still take all of me—that’s my girl.” he sighs shakily, your clamping pussy was quickly becoming a problem. he hadn’t allowed himself to be horny in your absence; all he could do was miss you and wish he had you back in his arms. but you’ve given him more than that, you’ve given him permission to breed your tight pussy all for himself, you’ve promised to help him in his cause and watch after the girls he was willing to lose you for, albeit temporarily. you’ve given him your heart back. you’ve given him everything.

your hands fly to grip the beefy muscle of his upper arms, fighting to ground yourself through the feeling of him cleaving through you. your eyes are already rolling back in your head by the time he actually starts to move, feeling this full was satisfaction in and of itself. you think some part of you should feel pathetic and guilty for letting him do this—for taking him back, no, pledging yourself—to him once more. you know this will mean isolation, but you don’t care. you’d do anything to have him, and you don’t feel any regret in the realization. your mouth drops open a little, the way he leans over you to kiss your parted lips makes you grin. his broad frame keeps yours in place and deepens his path to burrow toward your womb. he swallows up your sounds of pleasure, grunting into each sloppy kiss. your hips absorb his thrusts, legs pinned by his huge hands ensuring you were bent to his liking. he’s slow just like before, stroking deeply and withdrawing almost all the way, brutal in his own fashion.

“please—faster, oh— nghggg~” you whine out as he gives you what you asked for, bracing one hand on the headboard above you so he could set a proper tempo, fucking into you with intent to claim. you’re mesmerizing. he’ll never let you out of his sight, even, if it means you’ll be safe beside him—or under him. he watches your face contort with pleasure, hot wet walls gripping him so expertly he can’t help but shove himself deeper and deeper as fast as possible—needing to bury his load as far as it will go.

“so good angel, you’re gonna make me bust already.” he says with a gruff chuckle. you nod, egging him on. he finds that adorable, rewarding you by pinching your swollen and needy clit. your back arches a bit and you squeeze him uncontrollably. he chuckles at your reactions, pleased to have so much control. “looks like you will too. cum with me.” he hums his order gently, rubbing you in circles while his hips never slow their rocking motions, driving you to the point of whimpering helplessly. you nod, feeling the dam break and your cum rush out all at once. he groans at the growing wetness, he can’t hold back anymore. he fucks you through your orgasm, twitching at the sensitivity his dick receives from the sloppy mess that’s been made of you.

“look at my girl…stuffed full like she always should be.” he grins, leaning over to kiss your forehead. “i love you, angel. i’m so glad you let me have another chance.” he says with a smirk that tells you that you didn’t have much choice in the matter—but your cooperation meant a lot to him.

you smile softly at his praises, not at all worried about your fate with a man they considered dangerous. because to you, he was still your suguru—and he would never hurt you, his special siring sorceress.

#jjk x reader #kyleewritesjjk #kylee’s kinktober event #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #suguru geto #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto smut #geto x reader

[toruro]

love you twice — j. wonwoo — part two

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

description: in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

w/c: 7.7k

tags/warnings: sexual content (18+), first-grade-teacher!wonwoo, mother!reader, fluff, angst (light), dirty talk, car sex, fingering, oral (m receiving), dry humping, unedited

a/n: aaaand here is part 2! there's more emotions in this one, and it's more dialogue heavy—at least i hope! thank you for all the kind words on part one, i'm so glad many of you liked it! i hope you enjoy part 2 just as much c:

“Hey Mommy?” your son asks, walking into your room as you rummage through your clothes.

“What’s up Kei-Kei?” you say, looking up at him as you put one of the skirts you’re holding down.

“What time is Uncle Jun coming?”

“Huh, that’s a good question,” you murmur, pulling up your phone to go through your messages. “He’ll be here soon Kei-Kei, give him like an a few minutes. You excited to see him?”

Kei nods, skipping up to stand right next to you. “Yah-huh. I miss him,” he says honestly, and you smile at the thought telling Jun his nephew missed his presence.

“He missed you too, I’m sure,” you reply, ruffling Kei’s hair before waving him along to follow you to the kitchen. “You can watch some TV now if you want, just while we wait for Uncle Jun so I can get ready,” you tell him, sitting him down at the living room couch to turn on the TV.

Kei swings his legs back and forth over the edge of the sofa, nodding in agreement as you put on one of his favorite shows and retreat back to your bedroom, staring down at the pile of clothes

Friday night? Friday night. Fuck, it’s Friday night, and you are hit with the daunting realization that you don’t know what to wear. Huffing in exasperation as you toss your clothes from your drawer down on the ground, you silently curse yourself for not having more clothes that were actually…actually nice.

It isn’t as if you don’t enjoy dressing up—the opposite quite really—it’s just that after having Kei, there was never really the chance for you to do anything that required you to get all dolled up. Well, up until now, at least.

Wonwoo wasted no time texting you that night after your…well whatever that was, sending in the simple message of, ‘friday night?’ His shameless straight-forwardness had you biting down on your lip in your kitchen as you tried to not squeal, before quickly typing out your response of, ‘yes,’ and then thoughtfully, ‘but only if i can find someone to watch kei.’

That evening was spent with you calling Jun, figuring out when he’d be back from his trip, nearly jumping up and down when he responded with a, “yes, yes, I can watch Kei,” followed by a conversation with Kei about how he’d get to see Uncle Jun again this Friday, much to his delight.

Which brings you here—pouting to yourself in the mirror over the fact that you might just have to show up to your date in a skirt you haven’t worn in three years. Granted, it is a cute skirt and you’re flattering yourself when you realize that it still fits, but it is pretty old, and it has you thrown back into memories of when Kei was much younger.

Having Kei in your life was never anything but a blessing, but you would be a liar if you said that some times weren’t especially difficult. From managing your new corporate job, to not having any support from Kei’s father and not much more from your parents, to living in a new city where you hardly knew anyone besides Jun—it was a lot.

Yet, you’ve never regretted your decision of keeping Kei by your side, and looking at the skirt in your hands right—while does remind you of late nights of crying in your bed—makes you feel nothing but pride and happiness for getting this far and holding Kei’s hand every step of the way.

Smiling to yourself at the thought, you quickly fold all the other loose clothes and put them back in their place before slipping on the denim skirt and choosing a white sweater to layer on top. Pleased with your appearance, you walk out of your room as you text Jun about when he’s going to come, since you vaguely remember asking him to come around this time. As you’re just about to send the message of, ‘where are you?’ there’s a knock on your door.

“Is that Uncle Jun?” Kei asks excitedly, jumping up from the sofa to join you on your walk to the doorway.

“I sure hope so,” you chuckle, peeping through the little hole, opening the door when you catch a glimpse of your cousin’s blonde hair. “Hey!” you greet as Jun’s figure reveals itself in front of you, “I was just about to ask you when you were going to come.”

“I—” Jun begins to speak as you give him a little side hug, but he’s cut off by Kei’s squeal.

“Uncle Jun!” he beams, running toward the tall man next to you with his arms wide open. Jun swoops down and swings Kei up by his underarms, throwing him into the air slightly before catching him into his arms.

“What’s up Kei-Kei? I missed you!” Jun exclaims, booping Kei’s nose as they both laugh. You bite back a bright smile at the sight as you close the door behind Jun, helping him take his bag and setting it down while Jun carries Kei to the couch.

“How was your trip with Minghao?” you ask him as you both sit in the living room armchair while Jun settles on the ground with Kei in his lap.

“It was so amazing,” Jun replies, “and we took so many nice pictures. I gotta show you when you’re back from—well, wait where are you going? I just realized you never told me.” You suck in a breath and glance at Kei who’s mindlessly watching the TV while playing with one of Jun’s hands, giving your cousin a look which says, not now, not in front of Kei. Jun purses his lips after understanding your message, nodding slightly before turning his attention to Kei who’s telling him about the show.

“I made dinner for you guys,” you tell Jun as an attempt to avert the topic, at least for now. “I made your favorite, as a thanks for watching Kei—fried chicken.”

Jun lets out a happy sigh, “Oh my god, thank god. I seriously have been deprived of that stuff. It’s just in the fridge right?”

“Yeah, I can show you.” You stand up and make your way to the kitchen and Jun sets Kei down on the couch to come and follow you. As you show him which container the food is in, your voice starts to hush so you can answer the question that you know is on Jun’s mind. “Okay so I have a date,” you say, watching his eyes widen.

“No way! Really?”

You roll your eyes in a mix of annoyance and humor, “Yes! Is it that unbelievable that I’m going on a date with someone?”

“Okay, you know that’s not how I meant it. It’s just, well after Seojun…” Jun’s voice trails off as he gives you a sympathetic look—you know what he’s hinting at. “Okay like you get my point. I just wasn’t expecting this.”

“I guess you have a point,” you murmur to yourself, chewing on your lip.

“Who’s the guy, if I can know,” Jun asks curiously.

“It’s kind of…okay it sounds sort of weird when I say it,” you try to tell Jun, thinking about whether or not you should reveal who you’re going on your date with.

“Ugh, fine, you don’t have to tell me yet. Is there a reason you don’t want Kei to know about it?”

You sigh, leaning against the counter. “It’s not like that…I just—he’s so young? I don’t even know if it’ll work out with this guy—” but god fuck do you hope it will, “—and he’s only just at that age where he’s realizing that most people have two parents and I don’t want him to be confused. Do I sound crazy?”

“No, no, it makes sense,” Jun responds comfortingly. “How’d you meet this guy though?”

“That doesn’t matter,” you quip, turning your head away to walk back to Kei.

“Oh I’m so going to find out eventually,” Jun teases following behind you. “God, this guy even has you wearing that skirt! When was the last time you wore that thing?”

You look down at your legs clad in denim, smoothing down the fabric with your hands. “I dunno, honestly,” you think aloud before looking up at Jun and Kei who are looking at you from the sofa. “It’s nice though, right?” The two boys smile and nod vigorously, and you open your arms wide to pull them into a hug. “Gosh I love you two.” When you pull back you crouch down in front of Kei, holding his cheeks and squishing them. “Especially you, Kei-Kei. I have to head out now, okay? Listen to Uncle Jun.”

Kei sticks out his tongue at you as you place a kiss on his cheek. “I always listen to Uncle Jun!”

“I know, it’s because you’re such a good boy right?” you say lovingly before turning to Jun. “Remember, chicken in the fridge and Kei’s coloring set should be in his room. I’ll try to be back before nine so I don’t keep you here too long,” you instruct your cousin who seems a little preoccupied with squishing Kei’s cheeks.

“Don’t worry about that—I could spend all day with this kid,” he replies without even looking up as you scoff lightly before your lips morph into a grin.

“Whatever. I’ll catch you later, yeah? Love you!” you say one last time before picking up your purse, slipping on your shoes, grabbing your keys, and hopping out the door.

In the privacy of your car, you take a moment to just sit and take a deep breath, leaning your head against the headrest. The possibilities of how this night might run through your mind, and you find yourself biting your nails anxiously—an old habit that never quite died out.

After a few minutes of rumination, you feel there’s no point fantasizing any longer, pulling up your phone to confirm the details that Wonwoo had sent you. Butterflies flourish in your stomach when you see the little heart next to the message reading out, ‘can’t wait to see you,’ and you nearly want to smash your head into the steering by how much it makes you want to scream.

Taking a deep breath as you start the car, your two focuses while driving are 1) not crashing, and 2) not bursting into a big ball of mush at the thought that you’re going on a date—a date with Jeon Wonwoo. Fuck, this man has been doing these to you because you haven’t been on more than two dates in the past three years, and neither of them have had you this excited.

God, you don’t even know what you’re doing on this date! The only information Wonwoo gave you over text was to meet him at a restaurant early in the evening, and then he’d take you ‘someplace nice.’ Now usually, you’re more insistent on having your date actually tell you where you’re going. But you also usually don’t go on dates with your son’s teachers, so you figure that there’s always got to be a first for everything, and that you’d like to share some of your firsts with Wonwoo.

After around ten minutes you’re finally pulling up to the little dine in restaurant Wonwoo sent you, chewing on your lip as you look through your window to see if he’s already there. It takes you a few moments to see him, but soon his figure catches your line of vision and you’re giddily grabbing your purse and tucking some hair behind your ear before leaving your car.

At the moment, Wonwoo is looking down at his phone scrolling through god-knows-what, so you take it as your chance to catch him by surprise, steadily walking up to him until you’re just within arm’s length, finally tapping his shoulder. His head snaps up at you quickly, but a warm smile is making his way onto your face after immediately realizing it’s you.

“Uh, hi,” you greet, bringing your hand down and holding them behind your back. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long, I had to talk to my cousin about some stuff.”

“It’s okay, I only got here a few minutes ago too,” Wonwoo says sincerely and holy crap you almost forgot how deep and velvety his voice sounded in person. “You look pretty,” and he says it so casually, as if he was commenting on the weather, that the compliment takes more than five seconds to register in your head and then your eyes are widening slightly before looking away.

“Thank you,” you mumble in response, caught by surprise, before returning, “you look really nice too.”

“We can get dinner first,” Wonwoo suggests, pointing at the door to the restaurant. “I know it’s a bit early but I have some place I’d like to take you.”

You raise a brow at him as you follow the direction of his arm, walking through the doors so you two can get seated. “Do I get to know where you’re taking me, Mr. Jeon?” you tease as you sit down at a seat at a table across from Wonwoo.

“Nope,” he replies with a sly smile. “It’s a secret.”

“I should have you know I actually despise secrets,” you tell him, leaning back in the seat.

“Well,” Wonwoo says smoothly, leaning back as well, “I should have you know that you’ll like this one.”

“And how are you so sure of that?”

“A little someone may or may not have told me his mother likes sunsets.” He takes a sip of water, watching the expression on your face turn from something teasing to something of slight embarrassment.

“You talked to Kei about me?” you ask, somewhat accusingly. Wonwoo puts his hands up, shaking his head as he laughs.

“No, no, not like that. He was drawing a picture of a sunset and he told me it was for you because you liked them,” he explains. That makes more sense. “It was a really pretty drawing, did he show you?”

“Yeah, it’s up on our fridge actually,” you say with a smile, recalling the moment when Kei brought the drawing home, all grinning and proud. It’s around now when a waitress comes and takes your orders, returning to your conversation as she leaves. “So you still haven’t really told me where you’re taking me.”

“Well it seems like you aren’t really listening but I told you it’s a secret.”

“Well maybe you’re not listening because I said I don’t like secrets!” you whine.

“I feel like I’m arguing with one of my students right now,” Wonwoo chuckles. “Surprisingly, Kei is a better listener than you.”

Scoffing, you grumble, “Well you should try to feed him vegetables.”

“That is luckily not one of my duties as his teacher.”

“Well it should be!”

Wonwoo is a good talker. And a good listener. Wonwoo is pretty much good at everything, you start to realize as the night progresses. You aren’t sure if everything’s going so natural because you two just click, or because he’s just inhumanly amazing at making you flustered and giddy, or both, but you find that time flies when you two talk.

When you’ve both finished your meal he stands up and takes your hand, the touch so gentle you think you might just faint. He leads you to his car, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. “Hey wait, I have my car here.”

“I know, but the place I want to take you is pretty close and I want to drive you there,” Wonwoo explains. “Trust me, okay? I’ll bring you back here so you can take your car home.” You give him a look and he sighs. “Please,” he says, looking down at you while tilting his head in a way that makes you want to crumble.

“Okay fine, but I have to be back home no later than ten, okay?”

“Yes ma’am,” Wonwoo cheers, opening the passenger seat for you before slipping into the driver’s seat. “Trust me, you’ll like this place.”

“You know you’ve been telling me to trust you so much that it’s making me suspicious!” you point out as he begins to drive.

“You’re awfully suspecting, I’m just trying to make sure you have a good night.”

“Well you’re being awfully suspicious! I can’t help it. What if you’re taking me to a scary place to murder me or something!”

“I teach little kids, not kill their mothers.”

“Maybe the teaching is just a cover up,” you speculate as you pretend to think with a finger on your chin. Wonwoo laughs as you look out the window and observe the scenery around you. The once residential area you were driving through has now turned into a scatter of trees and fields—you’ve driven by this place before, but never quite gone into the smaller, inner roads.

“You can think whatever you want to think. But I take it you like the view?”

“It’s pretty,” you say, absentmindedly gazing out the window.

“I told you. We’re almost there—you can close your eyes if you want?”

“This is so suspicious,” you note, albeit closing your eyes and placing your hands over your lids.

“You seem all too willing to go along with the plans of someone you think is a murderer.”

“I don’t think you’re a murderer, I’m just speculating.”

“I’m pretty sure those are the same thing,” Wonwoo mutters as you feel the car turn to a stop, assuming you’ve parked. You shift your body a little, somewhat aimlessly, and you hear a breathy laugh come from your side causing you to frown.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you pout with your hands still over your eyes. “If you’re going to kill me, at least help me out of the car!”

“Alright, alright, just wait one moment.” You hear the seat squeak as he gets up, the sound of the door opening and closing behind him ringing in your ears as you rest back in your seat, anticipating Wonwoo’s next moves.

Sure enough, within seconds your door is being opened, and you feel warm fingers wrap around your upper arm as Wonwoo carefully pulls you out of the car. “You’re being pretty gentle with someone you’re about to kill.”

“You’re really morbid, you know that right?” Wonwoo states.

“What!? I’m only joking,” you whine, following his lead and stepping out onto the ground carefully, letting Wonwoo guide you through wherever it is he’s taken you, finally stopping when he places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes them firmly.

“Okay, you can look now,” Wonwoo instructs, and you can tell from his voice that he’s standing right next to you. As you let your hands fall to your sides, you slowly open your eyes, quickly shutting them back closed by the intrusion of light to your unadjusted pupils. Wonwoo watches as you blink your eyes back open a few times, your faces going from bothered to enamored as the scene in front of you becomes visible.

In front of you is a large field of grass, enclosed by trees around it, pockets of daffodils flowing with the wind, and small yellow flowers dotting its surface. Looking up, you catch the orange-pink sky that’s settling over you, and while your eyes are still adjusting, you can confidently name this as one of the prettiest things you’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” you breath out, turning to look at Wonwoo. “You’re telling me this place has been like 20 minutes away from my home and I’ve never known about it?”

Wonwoo snorts at your comment before leading you to the edge of the dip in the road where he parked. “The roads were closed off for a few years and I guess people forgot about it,” he says with a shrug, pointing at a bench that sits at the edge of the field. He sits down while you stay behind, still marveling at the scene in front of you.

“Do you usually enjoy taking the moms of your students to see pretty sunsets?” you ask Wonwoo, wiggling a brow as you sit next to him after a few moments.

“That depends,” Wonwoo replies, leaning back and smoothly resting an arm behind you, his hand falling on your shoulder. You scoot closer to him, and the way his arm follows your movement has your stomach doing tumbles.

“On?” you ask curiously, slightly anxious about his answer—what if this is a normal thing for him?

“On whether or not you want to make this a usual thing.” You nearly choke on your saliva, not expecting that response, eliciting a laugh from the man next to you. The fucking things he does to you. “I take that as you want this to be a regular thing?” he continues.

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest indignantly in faux pettiness, but Wonwoo catches the way you rest your weight on him. “I guess it depends on how pretty the sunset is.” His arm adjusts around you, pulling you closer so you’re pressed up against his side with a hand ghosting its touch on your hip.

“Well I think it’s pretty pretty. Seems kind of hard to turn down a round two of this, don’t you think?” he reasons, and you giggle.

“I guess you’re right.” A comfortable silence settles over you as you both look at the grass and the ever-changing that sits above it. “The grass looks pretty,” you think aloud, stepping up from the bench and towards the lush green fields in front of you. You don’t say anything as you walk into the grass, crouching down to your knees before sitting in the grass, legs straight out in front of you as you rest your upper body on your arms behind you.

Wonwoo follows, and before you know it he’s sitting down next to you, his upper arm brushing next to your shoulder. It’s silent for a few moments as you look ofer the view, trying to collect the racing thoughts that zoom by in your mind.

You must look like you’re deep in thought—which, to be fair, you are—and Wonwoo speaks. “Is everything okay?”

“I, uh—sorry wait, I’m just thinking a lot of things,” you mumble, burying your face in your hands, somewhat embarrassed that you stopped this moment for nothing other than some useless thoughts. You groan quietly as you lay back, letting your head fall onto the grass, looking straight up at the sky.

Wonwoo watches you and purses his lips, grabbing your wrists and gently pulling them away from your face so he can properly look at you as he turns his body over and lays next to you. “Tell me.”

“I guess…” you huff, taking a few moments to think of the right words. Jeon Wonwoo waits. “I think I’m worried. Worried that whatever this is, it isn’t more than just like, a fun night and a nice fuck for you.”

“Do you mean—”

“That sounds bad—ugh—it’s like,” you stutter over your words as you try to come up with a way to say this. Jeon Wonwoo waits. “We hooked up and all, and then there was nothing after that, except there is something after that, you know? And I want to be on the same page with you with what that something is.”

Wonwoo stares at you with some kind of clouded message in his eyes and you take it as your sign to continue speaking.

“That night was…not something I usually do but I don’t know if it’s something that you usually do. And even this—dates—I don’t think I’ve gone on more than one or two a year since I’ve had Kei and,” now you begin to ramble, not even being able to look Wonwoo in the eyes as you pour your heart out, “but you make me want to and this is different for me but I don’t know one hundred percent what your thoughts on this are,” you conclude, shyly looking up to meet his gaze.

You catch Wonwoo chewing his lip for a moment before taking a deep breath and beginning his response, “I think…I know I really like you,” he admits. “I don’t usually hook up either, but you were so pretty. I kept thinking about you the whole next day.”

You perk up at that. “Really?”

“Really. Why do you think I offered for you to stay the night?”

“I thought you were a gentleman,” you joke.

“I am a gentleman. Just only for you,” he adds with a wink that you catch from the corner of your vision.

“So you don’t butter up all the other moms too? I doubt you don’t—there’s no other way for you to have gotten that reputation.” “I just happen to be a good teacher.”

“A good looking teacher,” you correct. Wonwoo gasps dramatically, turning over again so he can face you.

“Are you defaming my skills as a teacher?”

You scrunch up your nose at his accusation, turning over too and laughing a little at the way the grass tickles your neck. “No. I’m just saying you’re a good looking teacher. You’re a great teacher, I can tell from Kei.”

You don’t expect Wonwoo to bring a hand up to your cheek and press a firm kiss on your lips. It’s the first time you’ve felt his lips in days, and although it’s short, it’s sweet and fulfilling. “You’re a great mom,” and he pauses, “I can tell from Kei.”

You grin so widely you have to turn away from him out of embarrassment, hoping the cool evening breeze will soothe your burning cheeks. “I try.” You sit up finally, looking down at Wonwoo who’s still laying down on the grass, watching with two hands behind his head. “How’d you find this place anyways?”

“My mom used to take me here.” There’s something in his voice—it’s unidentifiable for a moment, but when you see the look on Wonwoo’s face, you place it. Pursing your lips at where you have a feeling this is going, you reach your hand out, motioning for him to hold it.

You two don’t speak as he sits up, encasing his warm hands around yours. It’s a silent message, you think, and you don’t need to say anything for Wonwoo to know that you understand. “I’m happy I’m here with you,” he finally says, squeezing your hand just a bit tighter.

“I’m happy that you took me here,” you admit.

The air is lighter now, and Wonwoo asks, “So you finally understand that I’m not trying to kill you, right?”

“Um, I think I still need to think about that…” your voice trails off as you look off into the distance with a smirk tugging at your lips. “Maybe another kiss might convince me, though…” You give Wonwoo a look and doesn’t hesitate to pull you by the hand and into his hold, pressing his lips against yours.

His hold on you is so gentle yet so firm, pulling you close and sliding his tongue against yours. The innocence that laced your fingers with his is replaced with an overwhelming feeling of desire—you think you might just go insane. When he pulls away, you audibly whine. “Is that good enough for you?” Wonwoo coos.

“You can’t just kiss me like—like that and then just stop,” you complain, shifting to sit on your knees so you can face him fully. Wonwoo throws his head back when he laughs at you, but when he looks back at you, his gaze on you is—fuck—it’s definitely something.

“Car?” he asks, and your eyes only need to flicker towards his SUV that’s parked just a few meters away before he’s standing up and you’re scrambling to take his hand so you can follow him, nearly running into the back seat with him.

Wonwoo sits in the backseat and you climb in right after, situating your knees on either side of him as he closes the door behind you. The second he’s done he’s pulling you by the waist impossibly close to his body, capturing your lips in another fierce kiss.

Wonwoo kisses you the same way roses bloom in spring, the way sun shines in summer, the way leaves brown in autumn, the way snow falls in winter—he kisses you like it’s so natural, it’s imprinted into his very DNA.

The thought has you melting under his touch, and when his hot mouth leaves yours to trail its way down, sucking and nipping at the flesh of your neck, you find yourself aching for more. There’s that buzz at the depth of your core and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck.

“This skirt, fuck, you were driving me crazy all evening,” Wonwoo mutters into your ear as you grind into him, hands coming up to squeeze the flesh of your thigh, fingers inching up and under your skirt.

“Maybe,” you gasp as he pushes you down harder, your clothed core pulsing at the contact, “you’re just really horny.” Wonwoo scoffs, and although you know he’s trying to come off as composed, you watch the way his eyebrows are slightly furrowed.

“Maybe,” he retorts, “you just make me horny.” You’re about to lean in and kiss him again when a passing thought comes to mind.  “You should know I really want you and me to go somewhere, but if you want reassurance that you are more than just an amazing lay, I didn’t plan on this happening today,” he groans as you go back to rocking your hips into his, leaning down to push the seat back so he could lay further down making it easier for you to straddle him. “And to add to that fact, I didn’t even bring condoms,” he adds shamefully.

“Guess I’m just that irresistible huh,” you murmur into his mouth as you lean in for a kiss, Wonwoo’s arms making their way back to your waist.

“Mhm,” he agrees. “But seriously, no condoms,” he grunts when he brings his fingers under your skirt and over your soaked panties. You gasp at the familiar feeling of his fingers running over your clothed folds, stilling your hips so Wonwoo can continue his ministrations.

“Okay so you like skirts,” you note, voice strained as Wonwoo watches you try to keep your composure, “Anything else that turns you on? You know, so I can make sure that I totally don’t wear that next time.”

Wonwoo chuckles as his middle finger rubs over your clit, and you let out a high pitched moan. “Well I’m not sure yet…still have to see you in different outfits, you know?” Fuck, it’s really hard to pay attention to his words when his deft fingers are nearly having you humping his hands from how fucking good it feels.

“Ah—Won—fuck,” his name escapes your lips as you look down at his hand that’s buried beneath your skirt but not giving you quite what you want. “I guess that means—ah—that you’re just going to have to take me out more,” you manage to gasp out as he slides your panties to the side, the cool evening air hitting your slick core.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo looks amused when he says it, and you burn from the humiliation of falling apart on top of him, but you don’t back away. “Want more, angel?” he coos and you can’t even help the way you clench around the ghost of his fingers at the words. Yeah, angel, you want to be Wonwoo’s angel. His angel.

“Yeah, Wonwoo, want more,” you plead, placing your hands on his shoulders so you can look at him with glassy eyes. “Please? Make me feel good, please?”

Wonwoo isn’t sure how he’s holding himself back. Yes, he’s usually good with self control in all situations but the way you’re looking at him has his mind overcome with nothing but pure hunger. The thought of you being bent over the back seat, fucking you so hard that he’s the only one you can smell, see, think, feel, has his pants feeling incredibly tight.

The release of tension that he once felt when you were grinding against him is no longer there, but the only thought at the forefront of his mind right now is making you feel good. The way your eyebrows are slightly pinched together, eyes shutting tight when he runs a tentative finger through your wetness, the soft pleas of his name on the tip of your tongue—god, Wonwoo would do anything and everything for you if you just asked him, saying his name like that.

“You want me to make you feel good?” he finally gives in, circling the tip of his middle finger around your hole before finally plunging it knuckle’s deep in one go. You cry out at the welcome intrusion, letting your head instinctively fall to Wonwoo’s shoulders as you needily grind down on his finger, wanting—no, needing—more.

Wonwoo takes his time with you, using only one finger to drag in and out of you until you lift your head up and look him so fiercely in the eye, silently begging for more so intensely, that he can’t heed your requests. Easily slipping in another finger, he downright moans at the feeling of you hugging his digits so tightly.

“Wo—” you moan, “Wonwoo,” and fuck the way you say it has him nearly falling apart just as much as you are. “Feels so good,” you tell him, delirious on the feeling of him fingering you. His fingers reach so much further, so much harder than you could ever imagine doing on your own, and this moment reminds you of the many nights in the past month you’ve spent squirming on your bed, trying to recreate the same feeling from weeks ago.

“You look so pretty like this,” Wonwoo praises, and the words do wonders for you, and even moreso, for you cunt. “So wet—dripping all over me,” he whispers, and you whine at the way you feel yourself grow closer to your edge from his filthy words alone.

As his two fingers continue to rub against your hot, clenching walls, he brings his thumb up to smooth over your aching clit, and the way you gasp tells Wonwoo that whatever he’s doing, he should keep doing it. He doesn’t stop his fingers, nor does he stop his mouth, occasionally pulling your head up to kiss you and other times whispering pure filth into your ears as you begin to tremble under his hold.

“I—wanna cum,” you plead, bringing your head up from his shoulder and using your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. “Can I cum, Wonwoo, please—please?”

Your face is flushed, pupils dilated, lips swollen, and Wonwoo can’t ever imagine another universe where he can say no to you. “Yeah baby,” he urges you on, “cum all over my fingers. Make a mess.”

And who are you to deny him? Your orgasm hits you at full force as Wonwoo’s fingers speed up one last tight, thumb circling your clit simultaneously until his touch is the only thing you can feel and his eyes are the only thing you can see.

His name flows from honey off your tongue and Wonwoo loves the sound so much, he thinks he might just cum in his pants. He shakes the thought, watching you come down from your high, slipping his fingers out to readjust your panties and skirt. You watch him with hazy eyes as he does so, and Wonwoo takes his chances with your fucked out state.

Bringing his slick fingers up to your face, it doesn’t even take half a second before you’re wrapping your mouth around his digits, tasting yourself, tasting him. God, if Wonwoo didn’t think you were the one earlier, he definitely thinks you’re the one now.

He pulls his fingers out with a small ‘pop’ sound soon enough, looking at you with a grin. “Seems like you wanted this just as much as I did, huh?” Wonwoo teases, watching you as your erratic breath slowly comes to a steady pulse. “So much for calling me horny.”

“I-I told you,” you tell him shakily, “You look really nice.”

Wonwoo looks down, scanning over his outfit before replying, “So jeans and a t-shirt? I guess I’m listing those down as your turn ons. C’mon, give me something else to work with.” You roll your eyes as you slowly push yourself off of him, much to his confusion. You settle yourself in the cramped space between his legs, feeling yourself squirm at the sight of him realizing what you’re about to do.

“Uh, well,” you start off by bringing his hand that’s placed on his thigh to your cheek, the moist touch tainting your skin. “When you put your fingers in my mouth,” you say shyly, feeling yourself grow desperate again at the why Wonwoo’s eyes darken, “that was really hot.”

He doesn’t say anything as he nudges a finger against your cheek before prodding at the corner of your mouth. Without warning, he plunges two fingers back into your mouth as you open your lips up for him, pads pushing down on your tongue. You both groan at the implications of what you’re doing as you swirl your tongue around his digits, coating them with your wetness once more.

“Okay, fuck, I can’t do this anymore,” Wonwoo groans, and you open your mouth to free his fingers of yourself as you watch him unbuckle his jeans and push them down to his knees. You quickly crawl forward, sitting up higher as you reach forward and pull his boxers down along with his pants, freeing his length.

You nearly moan at the sight—it’s been so long since you’ve last seen it—long, thick, veiny, and dribbling a bead of precum down the tip. You settle yourself comfortably between his legs, but your feet are still in an awkward position behind you. Nevertheless, the only thing you can think right now is how badly you want to make Wonwoo feel as good as he made you feel.

You waste no time running your palm down the length of his cock, making sure to run your fingers over every curve, every vein, every part of him, as if you were trying to memorize him. As you bring your face closer to his tip, you hear Wonwoo’s breath hitch, lacing his fingers in your hair gently.

Carefully guiding your face closer to him, you stick out your tongue, lapping at the precum that decorates his cock’s bulbous head, and Wonwoo fucking moans at the contact. “Fuck,” he throws his head back, and you can feel your sensitive pussy already begin to heat up again. Eager to please him more, you open your mouth and then quickly close it around his whole top, drinking in the way his grip on your hair tightens. Swirling your tongue around his cock as you slowly push yourself down its length, you moan lowly when his hips jerk into yours slightly, the vibrations only adding to Wonwoo’s pleasure.

“Don’t—fuck nevermind—” Wonwoo grunts, as you pull your head back so that only his tip is brushing against your lips again. Looking up at him with those eyes, you inhale deeply again so you can hollow out your cheeks and push down on him further than before.

You do this a few times, and your jaw begins to ache—Wonwoo is big and his cock is forcing your mouth open so wide you don’t know how you’re even able to move your mouth anymore. Each time you try to push down further, his words of “you’re doing so good angel,” and “fuck, just like that,” are encouraging you to take on more and more and more, and you’re enamored by how you still can’t seem to fit all of him in your mouth.

Using your hands to rub whatever of his length your lips can’t quite reach, you begin to speed up, Wonwoo’s hips thrusting slightly into your mouth simultaneously, and you can now feel his tip kiss the back of your throat. Fighting off the urge to gag, your eyes well up with tears as you grip onto his thigh tightly with the hand you aren’t using to hold him, being egged on by the way Wonwoo repeatedly calls you his angel.As he looks down at you, mouth so fucking full, eyes glassy from the batter of his cock against the back of your throat, Wonwoo can’t think of anything that looks prettier. Not the sunset, not the fields—none of that—just you and all of you.

“Fuck,” his voice is rough and strained as he fights back to cum too early, trying to bask in this moment because holy hell do you know how to use that mouth. “I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he warns as you push down so far he can see how much you’re struggling. You pull off of him with heaving breaths, swiping away the globs of saliva that run down your mouth.

Your lips are red and cheeks are slightly shiny from tears and Wonwoo swears he feels his dick twitch at the idea that he did that to you. “Isn’t that the point?” you murmur, ignoring his words as you return your mouth back to the tip of his mouth, letting your tongue glide over the slit at the top before hollowing your cheeks and letting him use his hands to push you down.

“Fuck, fine,” he groans, being less composed with the way he’s snapping his hips into your mouth. His movements are becoming erratic while yours become sloppy, moving your head up and down so fast it’s dizzying, not pausing your hands rubbing along his length. “I’m gonna cum,” he grunts out one last time, letting go of your hair so you can pull yourself off of him.

The look in your eyes tells him you want otherwise.

Not breaking eye contact, you continue to run your mouth all over his cock, saliva and drool coating your chin in a way that’s so erotic and intimate, it has Wonwoo cumming down your throat within seconds with a heaving groan.

He thrusts into your open mouth a few last times to ride out whatever of his orgasm is left in him before you’re slipping off of him so you can swallow his cum in one large gulp, opening and closing your mouth a few times after to soothe some of the ache in your jaw. Riding down from his high, Wonwoo notices this, gently cupping your face with one hand to look at you carefully. “I’m sorry, did I go too hard?”

You grin, shaking your head. “No. Loved it,” you tell him looking up with bright eyes. Wonwoo feels his heart swell at the sight as he pulls his boxers and pants back on, pulling you up so he can kiss you firmly once before pulling away. You chase his lips for a moment, but he holds back.

“No more of that. I don’t think you’re ready to do another round,” Wonwoo tells you as you roll your eyes, sitting down on his thigh.

“Fine,” you huff, looking out the window to see that the once orange sky is being replaced with a deep purple. “I probably should get back to Kei too…” you murmur to yourself, looking around for your phone to check the time. Wonwoo watches you with his hands on your waist—he finds it so cute how you’re so…comfortable in his hold.

“You wanna drive back to the restaurant now? So you can get your car?” he suggests as you begrudgingly shuffle off of him and out of his hold.

“Yes please,” you reply, not bothering to open the door, simply crawling over the small space between the two front seats and slipping into the passenger seat. Wonwoo waits for you to get over before leaving the car himself so he can move to the driver's seat, fumbling with his keys for a moment before starting the car.

“So, how does it feel to be proven wrong?” Wonwoo asks as he starts driving. You raise a brow at him, signaling him to go on. “You know, since I didn’t kill you and all.”

“I guess you not being a murderer was a pleasant surprise,” you say dramatically. “But be careful Mr. Jeon. I’m on your tail.”

“I haven’t done anything!”

“Not yet.”

You two bicker back and forth and before you know it, the sun has fully set and he’s pulling up to your car parked in front of the restaurant from before. He’s about to get out of the car with you as you reach down to pick up your purse, but you quickly stop him.

“You should probably stay,” you tell him. When he looks at you with confusion, you point at the dark spot on his jeans shyly, giggling at the way your eyes widen. “Yeah, sorry about that,” you murmur. Wonwoo chuckles, looking back at you.

“No it’s okay. It’s hot. But you’re right…I think I’ll just stay in here,” he agrees before letting his gaze fall on you as you place your hand on the door. “Wait,” he says gruffly, and as you turn around you’re met with a soft kiss as he cups your face with one hand. It lasts hardly a second, and when he pulls away his lips pull into a genuine smile. “Text me when you get home, okay?”You nod, butterflies erupting at his care, pulling the door and slowly stepping out. “I’ll see you later, Wonwoo,” you tell him one last time through the open window as you close the door. As you turn around and retreat to your car, all you can think about is how this evening has gone just how you wanted it to, and more. As you begin your drive home, a funny thought pops up in your head among the multitude of memories that make you go giddy.

Jeon Wonwoo may not be a murderer, but he just might be the death of you.

a/n: hope you enjoyed! ngl the past few days have been so shitty for me and my only escape is writing this story bc it makes so happy so ummmmm yeah! i'm not super happy with the ending but i hope it will suffice. please like, reply/comment, and reblog! you can also send me an ask or add a comment if you'd like to be tagged in pt.3 or if you want to be removed from the series tag list c:

tags: @etherealyoungkngk @noonareads @mingycr @everyw0nu @hananibooboo @gaebestie @rhaenyras-raven @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @wonw00t @galursi @horny4hosh @everyw0nu

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