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hd-junglebook · 2 days

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Can I Help You

Part 2 / Word Count 3509

Masterlist

Summary: after days of avoiding Luke, y/n has to man up and see Luke in person after she ran away. But of course, things won't go as smoothly when her ex-boyfriend shows up.

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The music pulsed through the night air, the heavy bass reverberating in their chests as y/n and Clarke approached the big white house. Clusters of partygoers sprawled across the front lawn and spilled over onto the stairway, their laughter and chatter mixing with the thumping soundtrack blaring from inside.

The chill in the air nipped at exposed skin, but the revelers seemed impervious, warmed by the electric thrill of the night and perhaps a few red solo cups.

y/n's heels clicked rhythmically against the sidewalk, a sharp staccato cutting through the dull roar of the party. She tugged at the hem of her dress, suddenly feeling self-conscious amidst the sea of scantily clad sorority girls. Clarke, sensing her friend's hesitation, looped her arm through y/n's and gave a reassuring squeeze.

"You've got this, babe. He's going to eat his heart out when he sees you," Clarke declared, her voice raised to carry over the din.

y/n exhaled shakily, her breath misting in the cool air. She wanted to believe her friend, wanted to trust in the liquid courage buzzing through her veins, but the butterflies in her stomach refused to settle.

They climbed the steps to the front door, dodging red cups and overly enthusiastic dancers, y/n scanned the crowd for a glimpse of him. Her heart stuttered in her chest when she finally spotted him across the room, his tall frame unmistakable even in the dim party lighting.

He looked up then, his eyes locking with hers, and the rest of the room fell away. In that suspended moment, she forgot all about her nerves, forgot why she had run away before. All that mattered was the way he was looking at her now, his gaze smoldering with intensity and unspoken promises.

Clarke's elbow jabbed sharply into her ribs, startling her back to reality. "Go get him, tiger," she urged with a knowing grin, giving y/n a gentle shove in his direction.

As Luke's gaze continued to bore into her, y/n felt a sudden surge of panic. She grabbed Clarke's hand and deftly maneuvered them through the throng of partygoers, weaving between the gyrating bodies until they reached a more crowded corner of the house.

The music was even louder here, the bass thumping in their chests, but at least they were out of Luke's line of sight.

Clarke turned to face y/n, her long wavy blonde hair blanketing her face. Her leather skirt hugged her curves as she planted her hands on her hips, fixing y/n with an incredulous stare. "You mean to tell me the boy you think is hot says he wants you and your first instinct is to run away?" Clarke asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

y/n fidgeted with the hem of her black dress, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin. The bow in her hair bobbed as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, looking unsure of her answer. After a moment, she reluctantly nodded her head.

Clarke's eyes widened, her perfectly arched brows nearly reaching her hairline. "Girl, what are you thinking? Luke is practically begging to get with you, and you're over here playing hide-and-seek!"

y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I know, I know. It's just..." She trailed off, trying to find the right words. "What if he ends up just like Mark? Even worse, what if Mark finds out?"

Clarke softened, reaching out to squeeze y/n's hand. "Oh, honey. Have you seen the way that boy looks at you? Don't let your fears hold you back from something that could be amazing."

y/n chewed on her bottom lip, considering Clarke's words. She knew her friend was right. Now that he had finally made a move, she was running scared.

Straightening her shoulders, y/n took a deep breath. The bow in her hair quivered with her newfound resolve. "You're right. I won’t let my insecurities ruin this. I'm going to go talk to him. And we’re gonna drink and I won’t run away!"

Clarke grinned, her red lips curving into a proud smile. "That's my girl! Go get your man!" She gave y/n a playful swat on the rear as she turned to head back into the fray. y/n took one last steadying breath before squaring her shoulders and marching towards Luke.

…

As y/n approached Luke from behind, she couldn't help but admire the way his curls shone under the bright kitchen lights. They looked so soft, and she had to resist the urge to reach out and run her fingers through them.

She was close enough now to catch a whiff of his cologne, a heady scent that made her pulse quicken. She breathed in deeply, letting the aroma wash over her, a potent mixture of spice and musk that was uniquely Luke.

Lost in the moment, y/n didn't realize just how close she had gotten until Luke suddenly turned around, his eyes locking with hers. For a heartbeat, the world seemed to stand still. The chatter and laughter of the partygoers faded into the background, and all y/n could focus on was the intensity of Luke's gaze.

His eyes seemed to pierce right through her, sending a shiver down her spine. There was a hint of surprise in his expression, perhaps at her sudden appearance, but it quickly gave way to something else entirely. Something heated and hungry that made y/n's breath catch in her throat.

"Hey," Luke said, his voice low and husky. "I was wondering where you disappeared to."

y/n swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. "I just needed a minute," she replied, hoping he couldn't hear the tremor in her words.

Luke's lips quirked up in a half-smile, and he took a step closer. "Well, I'm glad you're back. I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

y/n's heart hammered in her chest as she shook her head. "No, not avoiding. Just..." She trailed off, unsure of how to explain the riot of emotions swirling inside her.

Luke's smile softened, and he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. His fingers brushed against her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "Just what, y/n?" he asked gently.

y/n drew in a shaky breath, steeling herself. It was now or never. "Just trying to work up the courage to do this."

And with that, she closed the remaining distance between them, rising up on her toes to press her lips against his. For a moment, Luke went still, and y/n feared she had made a terrible mistake. But then his arms came around her, pulling her flush against his body as he deepened the kiss.

The rest of the world fell away as y/n lost herself in the sensation of Luke's lips moving against hers, his hands roaming over her back, her sides, her hips. She tangled her fingers in his curls, reveling in their softness, just as she had imagined.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathless and flushed, Luke rested his forehead against hers. "Wow," he murmured, his eyes shining with wonder.

y/n couldn't help but giggle, a giddy sort of joy bubbling up inside her. "Wow indeed," she agreed, before pulling him down for another kiss. As y/n melted into Luke's embrace, savoring the taste of his lips and the warmth of his body pressed against hers, she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she recognized the familiar figure striding through the doorway.

Mark.

y/n froze, her body going rigid in Luke's arms. He pulled back, his brow furrowed in concern as he noticed the sudden change in her demeanor. "What's wrong?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

But y/n couldn't respond, her eyes locked on Mark as he made a beeline for Clarke. She watched, her stomach twisting in knots, as he leaned in close to her friend, his expression serious as he questioned her about something y/n couldn't hear over the pounding music.

"I... I need a second," y/n stammered, tearing her gaze away from Mark and Clarke. She stepped out of Luke's embrace, her skin feeling suddenly cold without his touch.

Luke's face fell, a mixture of confusion and hurt flickering across his handsome features. "What? Why? Did I do something wrong?"

y/n shook her head, already backing away. "No, it's not you. I just... I have to go."

She turned to leave, but Luke's hand shot out, grabbing her arm. His grip was gentle but firm, his fingers pressing into her skin. "Wait, y/n. Please. Don't run away again."

y/n's heart clenched at the desperation in his voice, but she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze. "Luke, I'm sorry. I can't do this right now."

"Can't do what?" Luke demanded, his tone sharpening with frustration. "Can't talk to me? Can't be honest with me? You keep sending me all these mixed signals, y/n. One minute you're kissing me like your life depends on it, the next you're running away like I've got the plague."

y/n flinched at the accusation in his words, but she couldn't deny the truth of them. She had been running hot and cold with Luke for weeks now, ever since they'd started skating together. Ever since she'd begun tutoring him in math, staying up late to help him grasp concepts that seemed to slip through his fingers like water.

She'd thought she could keep him at arm's length, that she could ignore the way her heart raced every time he looked at her with those piercing honey eyes. But then he'd kissed her tonight, and everything had changed.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I have to leave."

She tried to pull away, but Luke's grip on her arm tightened. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking beneath the stubble that shadowed his angular cheekbones. "So that's it? You're just going to run away again? Leave me hanging like you always do?"

The bitterness in his tone made y/n's chest ache, but she forced herself to meet his gaze. "Luke, please. Don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Harder than it has to be?" Luke scoffed, his eyes flashing with hurt and anger. "You're the one making it hard, y/n. You're the one who keeps pushing me away, even though I know you feel something for me. I can see it in the way you look at me, the way you melt into me when we kiss."

He took a step closer, his free hand coming up to cup her cheek. His touch was feather-light, but it burned like a brand against her skin. "Why won't you let me in, y/n? Why won't you give us a chance?"

y/n swallowed hard, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She wanted to tell him everything, to confess all the secrets she'd been keeping locked away in her heart. But the words stuck in her throat, choking her.

"I'm sorry," she said again, her voice cracking. "I have to go."

And with that, she wrenched her arm free of Luke's grasp and fled, pushing through the crowd of partygoers as the tears began to fall. She could feel Luke's eyes boring into her back as she ran, but she didn't dare look back.

She couldn't bear to see the heartbreak on his face, knowing that she was the one who had put it there. She approached Clarke and Mark, their voices grew louder, cutting through the pulsing music and chatter of the party. She could see the tension in Mark's shoulders, the way his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he loomed over Clarke.

"Who is that guy, Clarke? I know you're lying to me. Tell me who he is!" Mark's voice was sharp, his words clipped with barely contained rage.

Clarke, to her credit, looked utterly unfazed. She stood her ground, her arms crossed over her chest as she stared up at Mark with a look of disdain. "When is the right time to leave your ex-girlfriend alone? She doesn't want you, you're crazy."

Mark's face reddened, his nostrils flaring. "I'm not crazy! I just want to know who that guy is. y/n is mine, and I'm not going to let some random dude swoop in and steal her away from me."

y/n's stomach churned at the possessiveness in Mark's voice. She'd broken up with him months ago, but he still seemed to think he had some kind of claim on her. It was one of the reasons she'd been so hesitant to let herself get close to Luke, even though her heart yearned for him.

She stepped forward, putting herself between Mark and Clarke. "Mark, stop. Please. You're making a scene."

Mark's gaze snapped to her, his eyes wild. "y/n! There you are. I've been looking all over for you."

He reached for her, but y/n stepped back, shaking her head. "Mark, we've been over this. We're not together anymore. You need to leave me alone."

Mark's face twisted, a mixture of hurt and anger flickering across his features. "Is this because of him? That guy you were with earlier?"

y/n's heart stuttered in her chest. "Luke has nothing to do with this. We broke up because you were possessive and controlling, and I couldn't take it anymore."

Mark scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh, please. You loved it when I took charge. When I made all the decisions for us. You needed me to take care of you."

y/n's hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "I didn't need you to do anything for me, Mark. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Mark's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a sneer. "Really? Is that why you're running around with some new guy, letting him put his hands all over you? You're just a slut who can't be alone." The words hit y/n like a slap, and she recoiled as if she'd been struck. Beside her, Clarke let out a gasp of outrage.

"How dare you talk to her like that! You're a pathetic excuse for a man, Mark. No wonder she dumped your sorry ass."

Mark's face reddened even further, and for a moment, y/n thought he might actually strike Clarke. But then he seemed to deflate, his shoulders slumping as he took a step back.

"Fine. Whatever. You two deserve each other." He spat the words like venom, his eyes darting between y/n and Clarke. With that, he turned on his heel and stalked away, shoving through the crowd of partygoers. y/n watched him go, her heart racing in her chest.

She felt like she couldn't breathe, like the walls of the room were closing in on her. "y/n? Are you okay?" Clarke's voice was gentle, her hand coming to rest on y/n's shoulder.

…

Luke stood there for a moment, stunned and heartbroken. He couldn't understand why she kept running away from him, why she wouldn't let him in. He thought they had something special, but now he was starting to doubt everything.

As he turned to leave, his shoulders slumped in defeat, he found himself face to face with a tall, broad-shouldered guy he didn't recognize. The guy had a scowl on his face and a glint of something dangerous in his eyes.

"Hey, you," the guy said, his voice low and menacing. "You're the one who was with y/n earlier, right?"

Luke bristled at the accusation in the guy's tone. "Yeah, what's it to you?"

The guy stepped closer, invading Luke's personal space. "I'm Mark, y/n's boyfriend. And I want to know what the hell you think you're doing with my girl."

Luke's eyes widened in surprise, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. y/n had a boyfriend? Why hadn't she told him? Had everything between them been a lie?

Anger set in, hot and fierce. How dare this guy claim y/n as his own, like she was some kind of possession? And how dare y/n lead him on, make him think they had something real, when she was just using him to get back at her boyfriend?

Luke's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He wanted to punch Mark in his smug face, to make him feel even a fraction of the pain that was tearing through his own heart. But instead, he forced himself to take a step back, to put some distance between them. "No, that's not my girl," he said, his voice cold and flat. "I don't know her."

The words tasted like ash in his mouth, but he forced them out anyway. He wouldn't let Mark see how much this was killing him, wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd gotten under his skin.

Mark's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a sneer. "Good. Because if I ever catch you sniffing around her again, I'll make you regret it."

Luke just shook his head, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. "Trust me, you don't have to worry about that. I'm done with her."

…

y/n hadn't gone far when she heard the confrontation between Mark and Luke. She'd been hiding in a quiet corner of the house, trying to gather her thoughts and calm her racing heart, when their voices had carried over the din of the party.

At first, she couldn't make out what they were saying. But then she heard Luke's voice, cold and harsh, saying "No, that's not my girl. I don't know her."

The words hit her like a physical blow, stealing the breath from her lungs. She felt like she'd been punched in the gut, like the ground had opened up beneath her feet and swallowed her whole.

How could Luke say that, after everything they'd been through? After the way he'd kissed her, held her, looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered?

Anger surged through her, hot and fierce. She pushed herself off the wall and stormed towards the two men, her vision tunneling until all she could see was Mark's smug face.

Without a second thought, she hurled herself at him, swinging her fists with wild abandon. She wasn't thinking, wasn't planning, just acting on pure instinct and rage.

Mark stumbled back, his eyes widening in surprise as y/n's blows rained down on him. He tried to fend her off, but she was relentless, her anger giving her a strength she didn't know she possessed.

Luke jumped back in shock, his mouth falling open as he watched y/n attack Mark. For a moment, he was frozen, unsure of what to do.

But then Clarke appeared out of nowhere, pushing herself between y/n and Mark. "Stop it, both of you!" she yelled, her hands held out in front of her like a shield. Mark snarled, shoving Clarke aside with a rough push. She stumbled, nearly falling, but managed to catch herself at the last moment.

That was all it took for Luke to snap out of his daze. He lunged forward, grabbing y/n around the waist and hauling her away from Mark. She struggled against him, still swinging her fists, but he held her tight, his arms like steel bands around her.

"Let me go!" she screamed, her voice raw and ragged. "I'm going to kill him!"

But Luke just held her tighter, his breath hot against her ear as he spoke. "y/n, stop. He's not worth it."

y/n sagged against him, all the fight draining out of her in a rush. She felt like a puppet whose strings had been cut, like she might collapse if Luke wasn't holding her up.

"Why did you say that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you tell him you didn't know me?"

Luke was silent for a long moment, and y/n felt her heart sink. But then he spoke, his voice soft and sad. "Because I thought you had a boyfriend. I thought you were just using me to get back at him."

y/n's eyes widened, and she twisted in Luke's arms to look up at him. "What? No! Mark's not my boyfriend. We broke up months ago."

Luke's brow furrowed in confusion. "But he said-"

"He's lying," y/n interrupted, her voice fierce. "He's a manipulative, controlling asshole who can't stand the thought of me moving on."

She reached up, cupping Luke's face in her hands. "Luke, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was just... scared. Scared of getting hurt again, scared of letting someone in."

Luke's eyes softened, and he leaned into her touch. "I know. I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have assumed the worst."

y/n shook her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "No, you shouldn't have. But I shouldn't have run away, either.” Luke smiled back, his eyes crinkling at the corners before y/n continued. "Maybe we can start over? Try this whole communication thing again?"

...

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i-put-the-hot-in-psychotic · 2 days

Text

Target Acquired Part 2 (NSFW)

Pairings: Keegan. P. Russ x Soldier! Reader

Enemies to Lovers Trope MDNI, NSFW

Summary: In a mission trying to find some important intel with Task Force 141, you are pulled into a dimly lit room, the heavy door slamming shut behind you. Sharp words exchanged, trying to assert dominance over the other, yet an unspoken connection that neither wants to admit, turns into something more intimate.

Disclaimer: MDNI!, NSFW, 18+ This story will contain curse words, war themes, and NSFW sexual themes. I know Keegan and the new game do not have anything to do with each other but for the plot and sexiness sake, no hate and enjoy reading! This is purely fictional!

Word Count: 3,888

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, sexual themes, curse words, sexual acts, blowjobs, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, female orgasm, male orgasm, slight m dom.

Part 1

Keeping your rifle close, you slowly make your way through the dark corridors of this middle of nowhere base. Laswell had said they had some intel on Makarov and needed to infiltrate this base, slowly, quietly, and surly enough Task Force 141 was the perfect fit to go.

Pacing slowly through the corridor, illuminated by only blue light, you had to keep an eye out on both sides, from your left, the windows to the inner base, to your right doors leading to IT rooms, security cameras, and most likely would contain enemies.

It had been months since you had heard or seen Keegan. In all honestly what happened in that abandoned warehouse still finds a way to creep in your mind, especially in moments you don’t want to. Looking to your left to check if the coast is clear, a hand grabs your mouth applying pressure and pulling you in a nearby room. You freeze when you feel a big hand over your mouth, not daring to make a sound. You keep absolutely still, not moving a muscle as your heart starts to race. Even though having years of training the initial shock and the increase of heart rate still settles deep down in your stomach. This is going to be fun you think besides yourself. How could you have not heard them creep behind you. You start evaluating what they might ask or worse getting ready for the Russian torture you were about to endure.

A sigh leaves your lips, you can’t let Laswell down, the Task Force.

No.

Keeping calm and letting your anger stay contained, you elbow your aggressor with the butt of your rifle, turning on him and aiming. Upon looking at your aggressor, seeing him groaning in pain face in his hand he winces “Fuck Y/N”.

You straighten yourself upon hearing your voice you look at his ice-coloured eyes.

"Keegan?"

What is he doing here? How did he find you? For a moment, he stares at you in shock. He was.... surprised to say the least. "What the hell are you doing here? This is Task 141’s deal not yours?" His face remains unmoving but there is a hint of amusement in his eyes. He leans against the wall opposite you, placing his arms behind him. "I came because I wanted to see you." He said in a quiet voice. "Right" you reply rolling your eyes. "You have seen me now, now let me go back to work before you get us both killed" He raises an eyebrow. "Price asked me to come." he answers your question. "Why are you so cold?..." he whispers. If he wanted to kill you, he would have done it already. Something else is at play here. Having enough of his bullshit you make you way out of this tech room you’re in. "Can I ask you one more question before you go?" You turn towards him, "What is it with you and your questions?" "I just want to know one thing..." There's a strange intensity in his eyes as he stares at you, almost like you are the most fascinating person he's ever seen. "Do you still think we are enemies?" With that you remain complete quiet, completely frozen. At this point in time, were we?

No.

Your body wants to respond so desperately. Reason creeps through your skin. He hadn’t killed you, hadn’t hurt you last time nor now, as you would have thought. If he wanted to take advantage of you last time he easily would have. Biologically, he's completely stronger than you.

But enemies.

Your mind flashed to the dreams you had about him, how hot he made you feel. How his shoulders felt underneath your nails. How his mask scratched your cheeks. A shaky breath releases past your lips, still yet to respond. He watches, seemingly transfixed by your response. He watches you as your mind lingers on those thoughts you tried to suppress. He could tell what you were thinking... Finally, he speaks again. There's a strange tenderness in his voice, as if he's afraid to ask what he's about to ask but he needs to know the answer. "Have you been thinking about me?" "No" acting childish. "Have you?" You ask wanting to know if he genuinely had. His eyes widen slightly in surprise. He's not used to people not being honest with him. Especially not people like you. "Yes. A lot." He replies. "And I've been thinking how much I want to see you again."

His gaze is steady and intense, like he knows you can see the honesty in his eyes. You weren't expecting that answer. He had been thinking about you. Wait. What if this was all part of a plan. To get into your head. All the compliments. What if-. He shakes his head slightly like he somehow knows what’s going through your mind. "I'm not lying." The intensity in his eyes only grows, but he's trying to conceal it. He's not trying to be intimidating. He wants you to see his vulnerability. "Is this some sort of sick joke" you reply now getting hurt, angry. Was he playing you? He takes a small step toward you, his eyes filling with genuine emotion. "It's not a joke, it's not a trick or game. I'm as serious as I've ever been." His lips curl into a slight smile. "I can't stop thinking about you." His voice is laced with honesty and genuine feeling. He seems like he can't believe he is saying these words, but he can't stop. "Why here? Now? During an OP?” you state voice rising letting frustration eat away at your skin. He got closer to you, intruding on your personal space. “Make me believe you" you say close to him, face serious. You felt like he was lying. "Next time you see me it better not be some kind of sick job or a bullet because I won’t hesitate to pull my trigger" For a moment, he's taken aback by the boldness of your request. But he's not shocked. He steps forward again, this time closing the distance completely between you two. He stares you down, a small grin spreading across his lips. "I promise you... when I next see you, you won't be holding a gun. Or anything else for that matter." He speaks as if you are a part of his very soul, as if you already know exactly what he means. You look at his eyes. Captivating. You had only seen his face through the briefing never in real life. Curiosity killing you wanting to know what he looks like. Want to lift his mask up feel his skin. Sensing your eyes trying to take every detail, he can tell right away that you're curious about what he looks like beneath his mask. He's not used to this kind of attention, especially not from someone like you. Normally, you're so bold and confident, yet here you are, studying every aspect of him as if you're drawn to him. He's not used to this kind of vulnerability coming from someone like you. "Can I ask you a question?" "Mm" you respond with a whisper. "What if you saw me again but without the mask?" He asks. His eyes are fixed on yours and you sense the intensity of his gaze even from behind the mask. Its as if he's studying you, trying to see inside of you, hoping you'll let him. Hesitating to lift your hand towards his face. You were so close. You touch your fingers against his cheek feeling the warmth radiating from the mask. Holding his full cheek in your palm you slowly glide your finger where his lips rest underneath the mask. Eyes getting heavy, breathing non-existent. His eyes bore into yours watching you study him. His breath catches as your touch meets his skin. He doesn't pull away or try to stop you, on the contrary, it feels like he's allowing you to study every aspect of him. There is a calmness in his eyes that you've never seen before. He is vulnerable at this moment, exposing his entire being to you. A small smile spreads across his lips as your finger traces his mouth. He doesn't blink as he looks into your eyes. He is waiting for you to make the next move. Your hand fingers his mask underneath his shirt pulling it up slowly. He doesn’t move to stop you, but instead he takes in small inhale of air as you pull the mask up. Finally, edge of the mask in your hand. You stop and think.

Beat...

You pull the mask up until it reaches his nose finally seeing his lips. Plump lips with a sharp jaw. Clean shaven and a few scars adorn his face. In a trance you touch his skin and both of you let out a breath you both have been holding but he doesn't move, even though you can see his entire body tremble. He is breathing hard, and he is enjoying this. He closes his eyes, and he lets out another deep inhale as you touch his skin. You trace your finger down his Adams apple and finally graze your thumb on his bottom lip. As he had his eyes closed, your hand wrapped around his throat applying just the right pressure, making him release a staggered deep groan. Fuck, your eyes flutter slightly. That sounded...hot. "Oh god... " Your touch is electrifying, causing him to tremble all over his body. His heart is pounding in his chest, and he can barely catch his breath. The slight pressure around his throat feels good somehow. He opens his eyes and looks back at you. The moment his eyes meet yours, the entire tension is doubled. His hand wrap around your waist wanting to pull you closer, dick straining against his pants. He wants to ravage you, but he loves the small teasing you’re providing him. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. Your body is pressed up against his, and he can feel your heart racing. He can't help but stare into your eyes, enjoying the moment, enjoying the way you make him feel. His hands move up your sides gradually, moving ever closer to the waist of your uniformed pants. As his fingers fondle the waist or your cargos, your thumb traces his bottom lip as he opens his mouth and grabs your thumb in between his teeth, slowly closing his lips around it and sucking on it. His lips are soft and warm, and you can't help but let out a small groan of pleasure. His hands are exploring your body, getting ever closer to the bottom of your jeans. "Fuck Keegan" you whisper. He pauses for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. He looks into your eyes, his own now filled with such desire and need. "Say my name again..." he whispers. You moan his name "Keegan" small heavy breaths leaving your lips. His own meeting your neck. His body tenses slightly at the sound of your voice. He is overwhelmed with desire, and you can feel it in every part of his frame. Every move he makes now is calculated, as if he's going slowly on purpose to not lose the feeling. "Again..." his voice is barely audible, and you can feel his body trembling. "Keegan" you straight up moan now. Getting lost in his voice, in your desires.

His desires. "Again..." he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. Your body quivers and he press’ up against you even closer, feeling every inch of your body against his. Warmth was spreading all throughout your body, as he pushed you even closer towards him, chest plates hitting, making you feel his thickness rub against your thigh. Fuck he was hard. You rubbed your thigh against him as he leaned against a cabinet that was just behind you, on the left side of the room. The heat between your bodies is so intense, it's almost unbearable. The feeling of it is driving you both wild. His hands travel even higher, inching up your thighs. His touch is incredibly soft and tender at first then becoming more forceful. He's enjoying the teasing, letting the intensity build up slowly and not even trying to hide the fact that he is getting turned on. Getting the courage your hand travels towards his bulge and you wrap your hand around it. He hisses at the feeling of your small hand. Grabbing your wrist, you stop shocked at what might have been an overstep. Holding your wrist he unbuttons his black cargo pants, unzipping them, eyes intensely on your face, eyes heavy lidded wanting to see how you might react. Your heart was pounding in your chest. He freed himself from his restraint, adjusting himself now to being free. Your mouth instantly watered at the sight of how big he was. He stroked himself before placing your hand, that was still bound by his wrist, around him wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft. He released a staggered breath as you begun to stroke him. His eyes closed head dropping towards his chest. Upon stroking your thumb felt his wetness on his tip, which you took as a sign to spread it around his head, lip between your teeth. Moaning under your ministrations you couldn’t help but look at him. Still with his helmet on, eyes closed, panting, dick in your hand stroking him and shamelessly mask atop his face not concealing his identity well, at least the lower part of his face, as the deep soft groans leave his lips. "That’s it baby" he whispers. "Just like that" he encourages, making you want to please him more. You couldn’t take it anymore. Eyes now full of lust, mouth thick to the brim with salvia you made you way down on your knees and kissed his head. He opened his eyes at the soft feeling of your lips against his cock. He couldn’t believe it; his mind was playing tricks on him. He saw you kissing his cock making your way down to his base than licking your way up to this shaft. “Fuck” he whispered. If you kept teasing him like that he was about to - "Ah" he groans eyes tightly closing upon feeling your wet, warm mouth sucking him off. "Jesus Y/N". Eyes closed you take him in deeper in your mouth wanting to feel him at the back of your throat, but he was so thick it was seeming to be difficult.

You continue wetting his cock with your tongue, going up and down, his hand now wrapped in your hair bun, although with how tight he’s holding it, it won’t remain a bun much longer. He angles his hips to go in deeper, but you hold him in your fist as you start to feel consumed by him, air refusing to enter your lungs. "Take it baby. That's it. Good girl." he pushes his hips toward your face. You felt him hit your gag reflex holding your head with his hands until finally pulling away, a line of spit still hanging from your lips to his cock, eyes watery. He pulls you up standing on your feet and quickly goes to unbutton your pants. Pushing them of your legs you hesitate, as you were both still on a mission. He reassures you that no one is going to enter, and if so, those who do see would leave as they would see what you were doing. They would think that a guard on duty just got lucky. Turning sides, now you’re the one leaning against the metal cabinet. His lips meet the underside of your ear. "Y/N" he moans as he slightly nips your skin. "Can I touch you?" He asks hand resting on your hip, tracing your navel wanting to go down, and feel how wet you have gotten and gather it on his fingers. "Please" you whisper. "Please Keegan. I need you" Your pleading drove him crazy, pushing himself towards you. Bare cock rubbing against your stomach. As he couldn’t tease himself enough, he asked "Where do you need me?" lips just inches away from your lips. You hesitate. Is he really going to make you tell him. "Y/N" he whispers using his other hand to lift your face, meeting your heavy-lidded watery eyes. He looks serious. "I asked you a question. Where do you need me?".

Your mouth parts, pussy clenching into nothing, clit screaming for just the right of amount of pressure. Slick now dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck!” you exclaim, feeling like you’re going crazy. Never in your years have you ever felt like this. Felt warm like this or gotten wet like this. It was driving you insane. "I need you in me. I need to feel you stretch me. I need to feel how thick you are inside of me" you confess. Upon your confession he pushes himself harder against you, your ass hitting deeper against the cabinet his fingers finally pushing on the bundle of nerves between your legs earning a moan from your lips. He feels how wet you are and nearly looses himself, his cock twitching.

He rubs your folds not wanting to waste anymore time away from you. He slowly pushes his finger inside you, wet and ready for him your pussy takes his finger with ease. You both moan at the intrusion. Keeping his finger there, he breathes hard against you, feeling your warmth wrapping around him.

Finally, his lips meet yours in a soft kiss, both mouths slightly agape, his eyebrows furrowed at your heat as he starts to move his fingers back out, then pushing them back in. He increases his pace, fingers now dripping wet and inserts another. His fingers are thick, long, and strong not compared to your small ones, filling you up in all the right places. You grab his arm feeling the bulging muscle of his biceps. "Keegan" you moan. "You like that Y/N?" he asks as his pace continues to increase. "You like my fingers stretching you out, fingering you huh?"

"Yes" you exclaim "Good girl" he kisses you. "Getting ready to take me inside you." You nod at that wanting to take his cock. He lifts you up on the cabinet and aligns himself to your entrance. Fuck he was thick, the sight alone with his head stroking your pussy nearly made you cum right than and there. "Ready princess?" he asks, and he moves you closer to him if that was even possible. "Yes" you say as you wrap your hands around his neck. The initial push was electrifying. He was thick and it made you feel like you were on fire. Hot moans coming from you meet his ear, not until he grabs your face in his hand and kisses you again. He continues to push into you as his lips are against yours breathing deeply. The stretch was nothing compared to his fingers. You couldn’t help but call out to him. "Shh, its ok" he replies. "You’re doing so good for me. You’re taking it so well." He says as he finally pushes all the way into you. You felt like you couldn’t move. He begun to pull out and push back in. Looking at you he saw his world. He wanted to savor the moment deep in his memory. How your eyebrows creased, how your lips were parted how he wanted to make you feel like this. Him. Only him. His thrusts continued, wet sounds all over the room driving the both of you wild. "Keegan" you call to him. "Yes" he replies worried that he might have hurt you. "I’m close" you reveal to him. It was music to his ears. His thrusts continued with depth and rhythm edging you. "Cum for me. Cum for me princess. Let me feel you. That’s it" he continued to whisper for you. A static sound was heard from the left side of your chest plate startling the both of you. It hit a second time.

" Bravo 8, you ok. Over?" You want to stop body going rigid. Fuck, it was Simon. Keegan continues to push into you. "Keegan wait". "Bravo 8, Are you with us? Over" you hear again less patient from the radio com. Fuck it’s been a while since you replied or radioed your team. Keegan looks at you with a smirk, "Don’t worry it hasn’t even been 15 minuets. They worry for you too much". At that Keegan thrust deep into you making your head roll back, making you forget your worries. "You’re going to make me cum, princess" he whispers in your ear. His thrusts increase in motion build up wanting finally to release.

"Y/N" now you hear your own name not your call sign.

Its Price. "Are you ok? Over."

You’re a whimpering mess around Keegan as he continues to thrust into you. He pulls slightly back, finger against his lips showing you to stay quiet. Confused your brows furrow, until you see the devilish look cast over his eyes as he grabs the button of your radio com, and he pushes into you, deep, feeling his cock hit your cervix keeping you in place. He smirks as he waits for you to reply to your captain. You bite your lip trying to regain some composure for your voice not to give away of your activities.

This was your captain, your team. "All good Captain. Over" you say as Keegan smirks and releases the button sending your message. Fuck that was hot. You couldn’t hold on much longer and you clench around Keegan. You moaned as he whispers in your ear "You want me to fill you up?" Your radio com responds "Fuck, where are you?" The captain states leaving the honorifics behind. "Fuck" this can’t be happening, not now. Not when you’re so close to cumming. Keegan's statement makes you go feral, imaging his thick cum painting your walls, dripping out of you. Keegan presses the com button,

"West Wing" you reply breathlessly. "You’re going to cum for me huh, going to get filled up with my cum in the west wing" he taunts in your ear. "I’m coming for you. Over" Keegan laughs at your captain’s message. "Captains’ join’ in on the fun huh." he smirks, before feeling you clench against him. "Fuck Y/N." His thrust continues, panting heavily as he grabs your hips and presses your com. "Tell him you’re doing just fine." He whispers in your ear as he fucks deeper into you, jealousy laced through his teeth.

"You’re way over than ok." He pushes deeper. "You will meet them at the south wing nearing the backdoor of the grounds”. You repeat breathless what he says to you.

"Cause at the moment, you are about to come around my cock" Keegan taunts as he gives one last big push, cock pulsating in you. You feel his hot warm cum hit deep inside you and he releases his load into you. You can’t help but moan with pleasure as you clench around him, your own orgasm hitting you, releasing. His hips still deep in you his heavy breathing meets yours. "Meet you there" is heard over the comms. "You sure you’re ok?" captains voice asks again "Never better" you reply breathlessly.

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redflagshipwriter · 21 hours

Text

Halfa Cass Chapter 5

“Well, she has survived,” DamiBat said blandly. He had clearly already showered and changed into casual clothes. His robin colors were neatly laid on the usual table. He had been waiting for her. Cass shut the plane door and swooped down to give him a hug.

“You worried,” Cass cooed. She ignored his struggling to get out of her arms. “Very sweet.”

Damian hissed and tried a nerve strike. She kissed the top of his head and let him escape.

“Black Bat, report,” demanded the Batdad. His hair was plastered to his head with sweat in the silly way it got inside the cowl. Worried. Fear. Nothing can happen to my baby, not my baby.

She pranced over to give him a hug as well. He needed to touch her and know that she was real.

Only when she detached did she consider answering him. “No,” Cass said thoughtfully. “Shower.”

Batdad unhappily let her go. Cass took the time to get her thoughts into order.

She did have to say something.

She changed into comfy clothes and made her way to her computer. Damian had gone upstairs in the interim, and there was no sign of RedJason or Dickiebird. She sat and turned on the screen. Then she turned a stern glare on her family.

Batdad and Timmybird looked away sheepishly, as if they hadn't meant to stare.

Cass wrote up a factual report. Arrival time, important parts of conversation with Marvel, the area they had explored and his magical commentary. Then she got to the creepy laboratory. In the corner of her eye, she saw Timmybird tense.

Cass sighed and spun her chair to face him.

His shoulders went up guiltily. He meekly reached out and tapped a key. The secret spying of her computer screen ended. “Bad,” she said, because someone had to teach him manners. “Don't look at my screen.”

Tim hunched over a little more. Sorry. Sorry. (Will do it again.)

Cass let out a heavy sigh and finished her report. She paused over her word choice a few times.

“You entered an unknown machine, it powered on, and you received an electric shock?” Bruceman Batdad summarized before she had sent him the report.

Cass threw her hands up in disgust. “Stop spying!” She told him. “Stop it!”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry honey.” He was sorry. He'd do it again, too.

Ugh.

UGH.

“Yes,” black bat confirmed tersely.

“No lingering symptoms from the shock?” Bruceman Batdad came closer. Hovered. Flap flap, worried bat. “We should do a full check.”

Cass hissed at him, fed up.

“Master Bruce is correct,” said Alfie. He narrowed his eyes ever so slightly at her. Little Miss, listen now. Caution is the virtue.

She waited until he wasn't looking to roll her eyes.

There was no sensible reason to escape. She sulked through the examination.

“Heart rate is normal,” Alfie narrated for their audience. Cass narrowed her eyes. See? See what you've done? Wasted her time, is what you've done.

“No pain?” Alfie poked and confirmed. Again and again. No, pain, no pain? Always no pain. “Well then,” he sounded very pleased. She blinked to full attention. “You must have done a very good job taking care of that rib, Miss Cassandra. I must admit I anticipated that there would still be soreness.”

Cass was very still. Then she nodded.

Uh.

Um.

She thought about cartwheels. She thought about vaulting down a flight of stairs.

Hm.

…Probably her rib should not be totally healed.

She weighed internally whether this was troubling to her. On the one hand, it seemed very odd. There was pain a few hours ago. Why no pain now? Pain usually left while she slept, not after flying a plane. Could healing be a side effect of magic girl transformation? Big, if true. Should probably tell her adults.

On the other hand, no pain was objectively an improvement.

Cass decided to say nothing. Maybe Captain Marvel would have a theory.

Speaking of. When she got back to her room, she sent him a text message.

🪄 🧙🏻📞?

The answer came near instantly.

Not yet! 😭 💔 She isn't answering me. Should I contact Constantine, you think?

Huh. Fast response, very good. Cass sent

😬

But

🕵🏽‍♂️ 🤙🏽 🟰 👌🏽

Lol, wrote Captain Marvel. I know what u mean.

Cass smacked her lips in the quiet of her room. He probably did. But he oughtn't. Old people had a hard time with her communication style.

Idly, she lined up a theory.

Captain Marvel had a magical girl transformation. Captain Marvel seemed too young for his body to her.

Ergo:

He was baby.

Cass, all of 17, wasn't that pressed about it. Bats and birds usually started flying and fighting as babies. Damian was still extremely baby. But. Hmm.

Birds weren't in the Justice League. That was the difference: he had to hide it from Batdad, Superguy, and Wonder.

Oh. Cass put a hand on her heart and frowned. In her dark room there was no one to see it aching in sympathy.

Baby Captain was… was a little too baby, emotionally, for the Justice League.

Well. It was decided, then. The next day at breakfast she announced, “Bruce. New rule.”

Heads swiveled to look at her.

“We are entitled to make rules for Father?” Damian asked Alfred, sotto voice. He looked intrigued. Alfie made a face that indicated his answer would depend on what rule Cass made.

Bruce lifted an eyebrow at her in prompt.

“Stop bullying my Marvel,” she commanded. “He’s-”

She hesitated and edited out the word “baby”.

“sensitive to hostility,” she settled on.

Bruce got a consternated look. “Sweetheart,” he began.

“Yes,” Alfred said to Damian, voice extremely soft. “Upon occasion.”

“Play nice,” Cass said firmly. No arguments. She took a pointed bite out of her toast. No more need for words. Eat now.

Tim giggled. When Bruce looked at him he lifted his fork in front of his face, as if the slice of pancake was enough to hide that he was laughing at the pater familias.

“If he said that I'm bullying him,” Batdad started, sounding harassed, “then there must have been some misunderstanding. I've never intended-”

“No misunderstanding,” Cass denied. She narrowed her eyes at him. “I see. I see his body get small when you use the stern Batdad bigman voice.”

Bruce grumbled into his hand and turned his face away, defeated. Resentment. Insecurity. Do I really do that?

“Yes, Father,” chimed Damian, who loved to kick the defeated. “Surely this fool quakes at the barest hint of your displeasure. But should he not?”

Alfred huffed a subtle little laugh at the manipulation. He squeezed Damian's shoulder.

Bruce, thinking that Damian approved of his coworkers fearing the Bat, looked even more constipated. Resignation. “I will be careful with my tone around him,” BatDad settled. Sullen. Embarrassed. Resigned.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Cass said cheerfully. She squeezed her eyes when she smiled at him, because she was also baby. He melted, vanilla ice cream in July.

Damian made a solemn nod of respect out of Bruce's line of sight. She winked back her thanks for the assistance.

Marvel got back to her not long after. Cass took the call outside, so that Bats could not flap nearby without her noticing.

“Black Bat!’ he said, excited. “I got Constantine!”

She blinked at her phone. “...In a trap?”

“What? No,” he dismissed. “I know where he's going to be this afternoon. Can you come meet me?”

Cass looked back at the house. “...Yes,” she decided. She was off the patrol roster tonight anyway. “Where are we going?”

“Uhh….” Marvel's voice trailed off for a bit as he clearly consulted his note or phone or something. “I'll send you the address.”

#dp x dc #dc x dp #red halfa cass #billy batson #cassandra cain

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loving-barnes · 6 hours

Text

LOGAN HOWLETT - A LITTLE GAME

A/N: New Wolverine one-shot. I tried and... I don't know. I like the beginning and then it's like.. okay? Let me know your thoughts.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: I have decided not to give proper warnings. I don't want to spoil the story. BUT please, only 18+. Minors DNI.

Words: 4000+

Important note: HughJackman!Wolverine (so he's tall!)

FULL MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - A LITTLE GAME

Everyone was looking for her - Magneto’s brotherhood, the X-men, the Avengers and god knows who else. They all wanted her - for good, for bad, to use or to kill. She became the biggest threat in a matter of seconds. That’s why Logan had to be the one to find her first.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get her for months. She was sneaky, using her power to hide from the whole world, even from him. Leaving the continent would be too risky. She had to stay in the States, right? Maybe Canada?

It all happened so fast. There was a moment where he questioned everything. In the end, he wanted to fight for her… with her. Was there still a chance he’d find her? She could be anywhere. Surprisingly, Logan never lost hope.

One day, Logan got a tip from some random skanky woman who approached him in a New York dive bar. He was drinking his daily dose of whisky, head lost in thoughts. He had her picture, looking at it. Such an innocent yet powerful being. His heart ached.

“I know her,” the woman approached him out of nowhere. She leaned against the bar, smiling. Her eyes were locked on the photo. “Pretty girl.”

Logan’s eyes found hers, frowning. “Where is she?” he asked angrily.

She chuckled. “Now hang on, sugar,” she sat next to him, exposing her long smooth legs. The miniskirt didn’t leave anything to the imagination. Logan’s eyes travelled from her legs, all the way up to her face, but he was not interested. “How about a drink first?”

He reached for his drink. It went down his throat in a second. He smashed the glass against the bar, shattering it. His eyes darkened. The adamantium claws got out, pressing them against the woman’s throat. Logan was not in a mood to play around.

People gasped. They were afraid. A mutant in a bar threatening other humans was unacceptable. Guns were loaded and pointed at him. Logan didn’t care.

The woman yelped. Fear crept into her eyes. “Tell me where she is or you won’t be able to see the sun rise again,” his voice was low, intimidating.

“S-strip club, down the street,” she managed to get out of her throat. Her body was visibly shaking. “I saw her there. She was there an hour ago. P-please, don’t hurt me.”

He didn’t say anything. The claws retracted back under his skin. Logan was out of the bar in seconds, heading down the street to the club where the woman said she spotted the one he was looking for. His heart beat fast. Was he finally about to get her? It’s been months.

Everyone wanted the most powerful mutant on the planet. Some wanted to use her, others wanted to destroy her. Logan wanted to get to her sooner than the rest of the world. All he desired was to protect her.

She’s more powerful than Jean ever was, said Charles to him not long ago. They didn’t have a name for her. No one knew where her power reached, or what her limits were. Jean’s dark side was destroyed with the help of the Scarlett Witch. With Y/N, they didn’t know what to expect. Was she worse than the Dark Phoenix?

Expect the unexpected, said Charles to Logan once he decided to bring her back.

Logan’s eyes locked on the big pink neon sign of the strip club. He sighed. Of course, she would hide somewhere in plain sight. Who would try to find a woman like her in a place like this? She was the kindest teacher. Innocence was her second name. Everyone would expect her to flee the country, or hide in the mountains. No, she hid under their noses in the city that never sleeps.

Expect the unexpected. Well, shit, he didn’t expect this at all.

He entered the club. The heavy smell of cigarettes and sweet perfumes hit his nose. The lights were flashing as the girls kept dancing around the poles. They slowly undressed for the crowd of hungry eyes. Men were holding bills in their hands, roaring and whistling, ready to throw them at the women.

Drinks were poured into glasses and onto women’s exposed breasts. Some wished to lick them, to feel their flesh and alcohol on their tongues.

Some ladies brushed their hands against Logan’s shoulders and arms to get his attention. The fake smiles and lustful gazes did nothing for him. They talked to him and tried to seduce him. He remained focused on his goal. His eyes travelled around the place, trying to glimpse Y/N.

Flashes of images hit his mind. He remembered it all - the laughs, the drinks, the simple days back in the X-mansion. The day when their lips first touched, he knew he was a goner.

Logan huffed, anger rising inside of him. Would she sell her body to all those creeps in here? Would she dance for them to make money? The thought of other men touching her body made his blood boil. Logan was sure that if he saw a man touching a piece of Y/N’s skin, he would slice his arm with his claws.

There was no sign of her. Was the woman from the bar lying to him? Was this a trap? Logan’s fists clenched. He had to be careful. Even a place like this could be dangerous. God knows who’d own this place.

Somewhere in the haze, he noticed the familiar eyes watching him. Their colours sparkled in the flashing lights. She was like a goddess, walking around the mist and colours with her long satin robe flying around her. Logan could smell her from afar. The scent was overpowering his senses.

One blink, she was gone. Was he hallucinating? He sighed. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. Or was it her?

Logan.

Her voice rang in his ears. He could smell her more as if she was closer than before. Logan’s body twisted and turned, trying to find her in the crowd. He was sure she was here, watching him like a hawk.

There was a lingering touch on his shoulder. It moved from one side of the shoulder to the other, fingers lightly pressed against his flannel shirt. He could feel the electric touch that belonged to her.

“Y/N,” he breathed her name. No one would be able to hear him over the loud music. “Stop the games.”

He heard a group of women laugh. His eyes moved to them. They gave lap dances to some businessmen. Their hands were all over their bodies.

Again, his nose caught Y/N’s scent. It was so close, closer than before. When his eyes looked forward, he could see her in her full glory. He cursed. Was he supposed to be aroused or upset?

First, he noticed the exposed legs and high heels on her feet. Then there was the dazzling dress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her breasts were about to pop out of that damn outfit. And then there was the damn satin robe. Fuck! Her dress was provocative. Compared to the other strippers, Y/N was wearing more than the rest of the ladies in the club.

What happened to the woman who radiated pure innocence? This was someone else, someone new. Did she have a dark side that decided to wake up from its slumber?

Still, his jeans felt tighter than before.

His legs moved towards her. Logan got through the dancing women who tried to reach for him some more. They wanted a piece of him. When was the last time a man like him walked into a place like this? His eyes and mind were only on one woman.

“Don’t run,” he said to himself. He knew Y/N would hear his words.

Logan knew the game wasn’t over when he heard laughter inside his head. He was close until he wasn’t. She was gone once again. “Dammit, Y/N. Stop this.”

Again, he felt a pair of hands on his shoulder. This time they pushed him down. His ass ended on something soft, comfortable. It was a chair. Where did that come from?

“Want a dance?” He felt a hot breath close to his ear. The touch remained. Logan knew this wasn’t a trick. She was behind him. “I can help you relax.”

Logan had enough of her shit. He swiftly grabbed her wrist, pulling her to him. He was impatient. Her face appeared in front of his. He lost his breath for a second. The red lips, the glitter in her hair… he wanted to devour her. There was a smirk plastered on her face.

“Strip club?” Logan growled. “What the fuck?”

Y/N lazily climbed on his lap, pressing her core onto his forming erection. She bit her lower lip and rested her hands on his broad shoulders. “What’s the matter, Lo’? Don’t you want to have some fun?” she titled her head, raising a brow.

He gritted his teeth. “I’ve been looking for you for months,” he said, angry. “And I find you here? Of all places?”

“It’s good, isn’t it?” she blinked a few times. “Who would have thought that little ol’ me would hide here?”

His hands gripped her hips tightly. He inhaled her sweet perfume. He needed to get straight to the point before he’d lost his mind. “Why did ya run?”

Y/N glared at him. “What kind of a stupid question is that?” she pushed her body from his a little. She had to get a better look at him. “All of you turned against me. One mishap and I became the villain.”

Y/N’s mutation evolved into something no one has ever seen before. It brought the attention of other groups that wanted her neck, or power. The Professor admitted she represented something beyond explanation. Inhuman was the word he used? It was new, dangerous. Fingers were pointed, threats had been made. Everyone pushed until she ran from the X-mansion and left everything behind. Now everyone was after her - the X-men, the Avengers and Magneto. Fuck, she even heard that the government wanted her. God knows how many organisations and bounty hunters were trying to get her. Rewards were made. The numbers had seven figures or more.

Logan’s eyes widen. One of his hands sneaked behind her neck, pulling her closer to him. “I didn’t.”

“Fuck, right,” she rolled her eyes. “When you found out what I could do, you stepped away. I can remember the betrayal in your eyes. Or was it fear? Were you afraid, Logan?” her nose brushed against his. “Were you scared of me or this?” she pointed between them. And then, she pushed away from him.

His right hand gripped Y/N’s hair and pulled on it, exposing her neck. Logan pressed his nose to it, inhaling her sweet scent. “Don’t ever say shit like that,” he threatened. “I was never scared of what was going between us.”

Y/N moved her head and pressed her lips to his ear. “Or did you realise you still wanted Jean?” She hit a sensitive spot. There was a history between Jean and Logan. Y/N knew damn well nothing ever happened between them. The redhead’s eyes were only on Scott. And yet, she had to dig into it.

Logan’s hand moved to her neck, squeezing it. He made her look at him. Even in the dim lights, his eyes darkened. He hated those words that had escaped those pretty red lips. “Stop it,” he growled. “You mean more to me than she ever did.”

Y/N rolled her hips slowly, grinding on his noticeable bulge. Logan moaned with every movement she did. The grip on her throat never loosened. With the flashing lights and changing colours, the tension between them thickened.

“You are lying,” she challenged him.

He squinted at her. “You know damn well I don’t lie, princess.”

Y/N grabbed him by his stupid flannel shirt from all the irritation. “You never reached for me after everything that went to shit!”

“You destroyed a skyscraper in New York,” he told her with a calmer tone. “A fucking skyscraper. Your mutation evolved with a snap of the fingers. No wonder the shock, the fear or everyone’s need to get their hands on you.” Logan pulled her face closer to his. Their lips almost touching. “Before I could collect my thoughts, process what the fuck had happened and get to you, you ran away.”

She squinted at him. “You pulled away from me,” she blamed him.

“I didn’t,” he tightened the grip on her throat. She moaned. “I’ve been looking for you for months - months! You think I’d do that if I pulled away? Do you think I’d pick Jean over you? Don’t think so little of me, princess.”

A rain of flashing lights started. Logan had the perfect chance to see her face. The red lips, the sparkle in her eyes. He saw the whole universe in them.

“Why here?” he had to ask. “Of all places, why did you hide here?”

She showed him her bright smile. “You’d never expect a good girl hiding in a place like this. It kinda worked.”

And then she snapped her fingers. The people around them stopped moving. They became living statues. The music kept going, the lights still flickered and changed. Logan’s eyes widened. His head moved from side to side. Powerful, that’s what Y/N was. And beautiful. Sexy. Dangerous. Good. Her heart was still good. He had to believe.

Waves of anger flashed through his body. It was still a play. If she wanted to play, he would obey - under his rules. “Tell me, baby girl,” the hand from her throat slid down to her breasts. The other hand joined. They squeezed them through the fabric. It made her hips roll some more. “Did you let any of the guys here touch you?” he tilted his head.

Her head tilted back as she enjoyed his big hands on her chest. His nose found her pulse on her neck, pressing his lips to it. He sucked a mark on her neck. “Baby girl, you are mine and only mine,” he growled into her ear.

“What makes you think I’m yours?” she tried to fight back.

“If I was anyone else, you’d use all your powers to get rid of me. Maybe even kill me. You didn’t,” he stated.

“I’d never kill anyone for fun, Logan,” she said. “You know that damn well.” She leaned closer to his face. “I’d never hurt you.”

Their lips met in a kiss that brought colours to their minds. Each colour represented a different plea. I miss you. I need you. I want you. I love you. It was messy, it was sweet. Their tongues danced and explored. It was needy, it was deep. It’s been months since they last shared a passionate kiss.

It brought tears to Y/N’s eyes. As much as she wanted to be strong, in front of him, she couldn’t. He was like a home she never had. Her heart ached that she had to leave him. But what was there to do when they all turned against her? She believed Logan did too.

Logan felt he was falling. Everything around him felt light. And then his back fell onto something soft. The chair under his ass was gone. He grunted, breaking the kiss. There was a bed under his body. “What the shit?” he was confused. “Where are we?”

“Champagne room,” said Y/N who sat on top of him, still fully clothed. The only thing missing was the satin robe. “For some privacy.”

He raised a brow. “And here I thought you’d wanted to give those living statues a show.” That’s when he heard laughter from behind the walls. The people were moving again.

Y/N’s thumb swiped over Logan’s lips. They were stained from the red lipstick she wore. Before she retracted it, he pressed a kiss to it. “Since when did you learn to teleport?” he asked. “Last time I checked, you didn’t know how to do half of what you did today.”

“Just a mind trick, no teleportation,” she said.

Logan wrapped his arms around her waist and abruptly jumped on his feet. He held her tightly until he smashed her back against the nearest wall. She lost her breath for a moment. “I’m not fucking you on that disgusting bed. God knows how many people fucked on it before us.”

“Shame,” she shrugged. “I thought you liked it dirty.” Y/N’s legs clenched around his waist.

Logan’s lips were back on hers in a hungry kiss. When one of his hands reached down to her covered heath, she moaned into his mouth. “There’s the pretty sound,” he chuckled. His lips moved to her neck where he kissed and nibbled on her skin until he left another mark there. That’s when his fingers found the strap of her thong, ripping it off her in one harsh pull.

He looked into her eyes, grinning like a devil. “I can feel how wet you are for me, pretty girl.” His middle finger had buried deep inside of her. “Did other men make you this wet?”

Y/N whined. “I’d never let any other man touch me, Logan,” she confessed.

He tilted his head. This time, two fingers slipped inside of her, fucking her with them. “Then why hide in a strip club?” He curled his finger, hitting a sweet spot.

“Ah! I knew no one would ever come looking for me here,” she gasped every time his fingers brushed against the place that made her toes curl. “Fuck, fuck!”

“Is that so?” he kept questioning her.

She tried to swallow the moans. “I’ve protected the girls from the perves,” she cried.

“God, you are dripping.” His fingers left her core and went straight to his mouth, tasting her. “Pretty princess, you taste divine,” he smirked. Immediately, his lips pressed against her in a messy kiss.

His body pressed hers even more onto the wall as one of his free hands went to his jeans to get out his painfully hard dick. He pressed the tip against her entrance, pushing it slowly in.

“Ah, shit,” she cursed. Her mouth was wide open as she felt every inch of him.

Once he bottomed out, his lips kissed her gently. “Taking my cock like the good girl you are,” he praised.

“Logan,” she moaned his name. “Please, fuck me.”

He pulled out slowly, leaving just the tip in. “Since you asked so nicely,” and he thrust back into her, making her squeal. She clenched around his cock with every move he made. “Doing so good, princess,” he praised her. “Taking me so well.”

It was fast, intense. Before she knew it, Y/N felt her orgasm approaching. One of his hands was already between their bodies, circling her clit. “Fuck, so close,” she mumbled incoherently. “Logan… Logan, please…”

“Hold it, Y/N,” he ordered. “I’m almost there too.”

“I… c-can’t,” she whined. Tears appeared in her eyes. The pleasure was surprisingly intense. Many feelings wanted to burst out into the open. Their lips pressed together in a sloppy kiss. He kept pounding into her as they tried to swallow each other’s moans.

What if this was for the last time? What if this would be their goodbye?

Her insides clenched around his cock as she reached her peak. Her breath quickened. She became a moaning mess while he kept fucking her through her orgasm.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pretty girl,” he announced, staring into her eyes. His breath got lost as the release came, painting the insides of her walls white. The thrusts slowed down until he remained buried inside of her while his cum slowly dripped down his dick.

Logan’s eyes found hers in a post-orgasmic haze. “So pretty,” he grinned. He watched as she tried to catch her breath. “My beautiful baby girl.”

Slowly, he pulled out of her. Y/N gasped once she felt empty. Carefully, Logan pulled her from the wall and put her legs on the floor. He held her tightly. “Fuck,” she cursed.

“You good?” he asked.

Her eyes lifted, meeting his. She smiled at him. “Yes,” she nodded.

Logan put back his jeans while she fixed her already short, slutty dress. There was silence. With each passing second, it got heavier and more awkward.

“I love you,” Logan confessed his feelings. One of his hands reached for her cheek, stroking it with a thumb. “I love you, princess. Goddammit, I fucking love you.”

Her eyes kept scanning his face. These words were never said before. This was new. Y/N’s heart wanted to burst from Logan’s confession. Now that he reciprocated the feelings, she knew she’d do anything for him.

“Come with me, please. I don’t want you to stay here, of all places,” he frowned. Even though they fucked in a strip club, he wasn’t fond of it.

She sighed. “Everyone wants to get me, Logan,” she said sadly. “Once I leave, the hunt will begin - the Brotherhood, the Avengers, the government. I can’t go back to X-mansion. That’s the first place they’ll check. I can’t endanger the kids.”

This is what he was looking for. She was still a good woman. “So staying in a strip club is better?” he questioned. “Or are you trying to say you don’t want to be with me? Is that it?”

Her eyes widen, mouth open. “What? No, no,” she grabbed his big hands, holding them tightly. “I love you, Logan. The only thing I want is to be with you. How can I do that when the world is against me?”

“You are the most powerful mutant on this planet,” he said. “You can do anything you put your mind to.”

“And that makes me dangerous,” she stated. “Fuck, I put down a whole skyscraper with my powers. It was not my intention to do it, but it happened. People were hurt while I tried to save them. Fuck, Logan, the United Nations are now questioning whether mutants can be trusted again. It’s all my fault.”

Logan shook his head, not wanting to accept she wouldn’t leave this place. He had to take her home, where she belonged. The school needed her. Everyone in the X-mansion was worried about her. “Baby,” Logan’s arm sneaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “We’ll figure something out. I won’t let any of those fuckers take you away from me. I’ll do everything to keep you safe and protected.”

Her eyes sparkled with tears. “Oh, Logan,” her hand reached for his face, fingers grazing the mutton chops. She chuckled a little. “You are the only man who can pull this off,” she winked at him. “It suits you.”

“So, what do ya say? Come home with me. That’s where you belong.”

“Promise me this, Logan - you’ll be on my side, no matter what happens. Please, promise me this,” she pleaded. “Because, genuinely, I am terrified. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I will if someone tries to get to those I love.”

He could see it was important to her, to have someone standing by her no matter what. “I promise, princess,” he kissed her knuckles gently. “Fuck, if I could, I would promise you the world.”

How could this grumpy, dangerous man be such a sweetheart to her? It made her knees weak. He was in love and so was she. “Quick question, how will we get back to X-mansion?”

Logan licked his lips. “I have a bike parked at a bar where a woman gave me a tip you work here,” her winked at her.

She made a face. “Yeah, Wendy, she texted me about you,” Y/N winked at him. “I’m mad that you wanted to kill her.”

“Fuck her,” he growled. “Did she write you she was hitting on me?” he raised a brow.

A simple glare was the answer he needed. “So, does that mean you’ll come with me?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

His lips crashed with hers in a loving kiss. Logan’s arms wrapped around her waist, hugging her tightly. “That’s good, baby. Also,” he pressed his lips to her ear. “That little game you played with me when I arrived - hot.”

Y/N smiled. “It wasn’t planned. I needed to find out your true intentions.”

“Through the art of seduction?”

“Something like that.”

#Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x female reader #Logan Howlett x reader angst #Logan Howlett x reader fluff #Logan Howlett x reader smut #Logan Howlett #Wolverine #Wolverine x reader #Wolverine x female reader #Marvel fanfiction #X-men fanfiction

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pasukiyo · 6 months

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BEAUTIFUL THING

mike schmidt x f!reader word count; 2,573 warnings; smut, no plot, just porn :D summary; there was nothing in the world she wanted more than mike schmidt. but what were the chances he'd ever make a move on her?

She wanted Mike Schmidt.

Don’t get her wrong, she absolutely adored Abby, she was sweet, funny, and overall not a hard kid to take care of. But she knew all too well what her intentions were when she agreed to take up the babysitting job— how could she say no when he looked at her like that with those big, deep brown eyes?

It was another late night spent at the Schmidt house— Mike had just gotten himself a new job with unholy hours, some late night security gig he had no choice but to take. Her mouth opened in a yawn and through her bleary vision, she blinked down to the watch on her wrist.

4:30 AM. Mike wouldn’t be back for another hour and a half or so.

She sighed and threw her head back against the cushions, staring absentmindedly at the television as some old cartoon played, audio soft and muffled. She wasn’t sure why she even bothered trying to stay up for Mike— she’d been babysitting for him for months, (without pay, might she add) and still, neither he nor she had made any moves. She wasn’t even sure if he ever even intended to make a move on her.

But she was just so certain that he felt at least some sort of attraction towards her. She could see it in the way he looked at her, how his eyes would absentmindedly trail down her body against his better judgment, how he’d pull the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth while he did. She could see it in the way his body would react when she came too close, like when she gave him a handshake or playfully shoved his shoulder.

It was the same way she reacted when he was close.

Surely it couldn’t all be for nothing?

Her eyelids were falling heavy against her eyes and she slowly slumped further into the cushions of the couch, hands tightening around the blanket around her body. Sleep was so close that she could reach out and feel it, and she would’ve slipped into the arms of slumber if it hadn’t been for the opening and closing of the front door.

She grumbled and furrowed her brows down at her watch.

4:35 AM. Mike wasn’t supposed to be home yet.

At the notion, she jolted and snapped her head towards the entrance, her heart thrumming against her chest as she prepared herself for the sight of a total stranger, ready to make a run straight for Abby’s room. She blinked and narrowed her eyes at the dark silhouette of the figure as it hung its coat on the rack bolted on the wall.

“Sorry. S’ just me.”

She knew that voice. It was a voice she always dreamed about, a voice belonging to someone she’d seen practically everyday.

“Mike?” Her voice came out rough, having not spoken for hours, not since Abby had gone to bed. “What are you doing home so early?” She asked as she pushed herself further up the sofa while Mike made his way towards the recliner, wiping a hand down his face before plopping down into the seat. She could only make out his face through the light from the television but even then, she could sense something was off.

Mike tapped his fingers against the armrest of the recliner, “I… I just… needed to leave… I guess,” he replied and she frowned, scooting to the far side of the couch closest to him. “Is… is everything alright?” She questioned, unsure whether or not he needed consoling. Mike leaned further back into his seat and let his eyelids flutter closed, inhaling deep through his nostrils.

“Just… is Abby asleep?” He finally asked after a moment and she nodded, humming. “She went down earlier than usual. Actually managed to get her to eat something,” she replied, her lips curving into a smile but quickly faltering again when she realized Mike wasn’t going to reciprocate. He looked almost… distraught.

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she pondered her options. She’d known Mike for some time but even then, she still knew little to nothing about him. He slept a lot, that was for sure. And he loved his little sister and was trying so hard to be exactly the type of person she needed. But she knew nothing about him, Mike Schmidt himself. She didn’t know what he did in his free time, what he liked to eat, if he had hobbies, nothing.

Hell, she’d spent so much time fantasizing about him and filling in all the holes herself, she hardly even acknowledged that he could be somebody entirely else. She didn’t know the first thing about him.

But she could learn to try.

She leaned forward, a steady hand warily finding his on the armrest of the recliner and she flinched when Mike snapped his eyelids open, looking between her and their touching hands. Their gazes surged into one another and she made no moves, as if seeking any sign that she should stop.

Mike’s heart thrummed so hard inside his chest, it was a miracle that she couldn’t hear it. She looked at him as if she were asking permission— permission to what, he hadn’t even the slightest clue. But in spite of the voices inside of his head telling him he shouldn’t, that he shouldn’t let her, that he was wrong for her, he did. How could he say no when she looked at him like that, as if he were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes upon?

His silence gave her the confidence to let her fingers creep further down to the back of his hand, flipping it around until they rested against the heel of his palm. Slowly, she soothed the tips of her fingers up his palm until they fell between the cracks of his, letting her digits curl around his knuckles. Mike shuddered at the touch and let his own fingers press down against hers and he watched as she raised their intertwined hands to her mouth, their gazes molded together as she pressed her lips against his skin. His lips trembled as they fell open and he narrowed his eyes, clinging onto the last bit of restraint he had left.

“You can relax with me, Mike,” she whispered against his skin, pressing another soft kiss to the knuckle of his ring finger. “You don’t have to worry while I’m around.”

Mike pressed his lips back together and fought back the urge to groan at her words, his eyes wandering from their hands, down her arm, to her chest where it pressed against the edge of the sofa. His breath shuddered when he exhaled and the rubber band stretched inside of him finally released and with it, the last of his restraint.

Fuck it, he thought. It’s been long enough.

Mike tugged her closer by the hand and her lids widened, a squeal slipping from her lips, in which he was swift to eat right up, pressing his mouth against hers. With his hand not intertwined with hers, he gripped her hip, working his way up to her waist to squeeze. The sound she made was muffled inside their admittedly messy kiss and he pulled her even closer, her knees having nowhere to go but on the outside of his thighs.

Mike groaned and pulled away to catch his breath as her hips ground down against his, already feeling frustrated with the growing erection in his jeans. He blinked up at the woman on top of him, her arms thrown over his shoulders, her chest heaving as she chased air back into her lungs. She stared down at him with hazy irises, still bleary from lack of sleep.

“Sorry,” Mike finally managed to breathe out, his palms resting on either of her thighs. “Probably a little much, wasn’t it?”

He watched as the corners of her lips curved into a grin and she chuckled breathlessly, shaking her head. “Not enough,” she tittered as she surged her lips back into his, one of her hands on his shoulders slithering their way into his mess of dark tendrils, fingers curling and tugging at his roots. He hissed inside her mouth and dug his fingernails into her skin, a whimper falling from her lips, allowing him to take control of the situation.

He pressed himself forward and reached for the end of her t-shirt and she briefly broke away to allow the fabric up and over her head, her own fingers already working at the buckle of his belt. Mike leaned forward to pepper kisses all across the tops of her breasts and she threw her head back as he took over in undoing his belt, ripping it from his loops and throwing open the button and zipper of his jeans.

She clambered off of him as he raised his hips to tug his pants and boxers down just enough to allow his erection to spring free of its restraints, feeling her stomach do a somersault at the sight as she stripped herself of her own shorts and panties. Mike fought the urge to wrap his hands around his cock as she reached behind her back to undo the clasps of her bra and time seemed to slow as the straps fell from her shoulders, the lave toppling to the floor altogether.

He swore he could feel his mouth water and never before this moment had he wanted something, or someone, more. He blinked up at her, following her gaze down to his lap and at his erection that stood tall, waiting for her, dripping with pre-cum.

Mike cocked an eyebrow, “you just gonna stand there or you gonna take it?” He asked, voice low and husky and fuck, she thought she’d drop dead right then and there. Still, this was a dangerous game they were playing. “What about Abby?” She whispered, glancing towards the hallway where Abby’s room was. “What if she wakes up?”

Mike pressed his lips together and bucked his hips, raising a leg to softly give her calf a kick. “You can be quiet, right?” He murmured in question and she felt herself clench from his voice alone. Here Mike Schmidt was, cock out and erect, all because of her. This was something she had only dreamed of— never did she think that this would become reality.

Mike cocked his eyebrow again and she shook herself from her thoughts, taking his hand as he guided her back onto his lap. Her body shuddered and her bones rattled as she began to sink herself down, jolting when the tip brushed against her cunt, teeth sinking down into the plush of her bottom lip to contain her sounds.

“It’s okay,” Mike whispered. “I got you.”

Her eyes about rolled in the back of her head at that as his hands kneaded at the flesh of either of her hips, guiding her further down his length, making sure to go agonizingly slow to ensure she felt every single fucking inch of cock inside of her. Tears brimmed the outskirts of her eyelids as she finally sat still on his lap, filled to the brim with cock. Mike let her head fall down against the curve of his shoulder, burying her nose into the crook of his neck as she allowed time to adjust to his size, simultaneously trying to keep her sounds to a minimum.

“You’re so tight,” Mike’s breath shuddered in her ear and his voice made goosebumps litter her skin, his fingertips like the icy breath of a ghost against her back. “You think you can handle moving now?” He asked in a whisper against the shell of her ear and she nodded, letting him grab her thighs and push her further up his cock until just the head remained. She cried against his neck when he sank her all the way back down his length, the lewd noise of their wet skin slapping together making her clench around him. “Fff… uuck,” he dragged his curse out as he snapped his hips up against her.

“Shit!” She gasped as he thrusted again and again and again. And she let him. She let him use her in whatever way he pleased.

“Gonna be good for me?” He muttered next to her ear. “Gonna let me take care of you, hm?” She nodded, bobbing her head up and down against his shoulder as he snapped his hips up to hers again and again, daring the coil inside her belly to snap. “Think you can handle it?” He asked again and she nodded once more, crying and biting down on his collar. “Yes!” She cried, fortunately muffled against his skin.

So Mike thrusted again, harder and harder, chasing that high, that release he so desperately needed. He could tell she was close— it’d probably been so long since she’d been stuffed by cock like this. She’d probably been waiting for this moment just as long as he has.

With the pad of his thumb, he pressed down against her aching bud and Mike could feel a fresh new set of tears soak his skin as she cried, bucking her hips into his touch. His thrusts were as sloppy as they were powerful and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“Mmm… Mike… I’m… I’m gonna…” she hardly managed to stutter out, slowly feeling the coil inside her stomach as it began to unravel.

“Yeah?” Mike said, his other hand wrapped around her neck and pushing her forehead down against his, gazing up at her closed eyelids. He rolled his head against hers, “look at me,” he breathed out and watched as she slowly fluttered her lids back open, just as more fat tears beaded down her cheeks. The sight was enough to get him to teeter on the edge himself.

“Gonna come?” He asked and she nodded, sweat-slicked forehead lolling against his. He nodded too, already feeling her release around him as she spawned around his cock, relying solely on him and his body to keep herself up. She buried her face in the crook of his neck again as she whined and cried, Mike’s thrusts speeding up as he gave himself that final push he needed to send himself reeling, spiraling and shaking with the force of his release.

“Fuck,” he growled into the skin just below her ear, squeezing his eyelids shut tighter as he willed himself to keep his sounds on the low, for the sake of his little sister sleeping just in the other room.

Silence fell over Mike and the babysitter for a good, long moment as they both recovered from their highs, chasing air back into their lungs as the realization of what they had just done began to sink in. Mike should be mortified— she was his sister’s babysitter, he doesn’t have time for this, she doesn’t deserve him, he shouldn't have done this.

But the woman in his lap settled herself closer into him, nuzzling her nose against the crook of his neck, her lips like a crescent moon against his skin as she placed a soft kiss to his flesh there.

“I hope you’re okay, Mike,” she whispered and he threw his head back, an arm thrown around her body as he stared up at the ceiling. How could he push her away now?

a/n; so yeah!!! i watched fnaf on friday and it kinda sorta just brought back my whole josh hutcherson phase so enjoy!! this was just a quick little something i wrote up and there's like no plot at all and not proofread LMAO

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie #fnaf #josh hutcherson #michael afton #michael afton x reader

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slttygeto · 9 months

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YOU SAY IT’S BIG, BUT YOU TAKE IT — SUGURU GETO.

જ⁀➴ content warning: pwp, riding, fem!reader, suguru has a big dick<3, reader struggles to ride him at first, he’s sweet and patient, big dick suguru once again<3, hint of a size kink, spanking, very light nipple play.

જ⁀➴ note: consider this an apology for the gut wrenching angst i posted yesterday. it’s 2am rn and i should be asleep but instead im feeding u guys this v self indulgent smut. enjoy<3

suguru loves when you suggest to ride him. you look eager as you straddle his lap, the love bites he littered all over your thighs giving him a sense of pride as he brushes his thumb over them. his free hand reaches for your ass cheek and kneads the skin before slapping it, and there’s a smile on his face when he sees you jolt in surprise.

taking suguru’s dick was a challenge in itself, he always prepped you with his thick fingers and made sure you were a weeping mess before getting to fuck your brains out. but tonight, you were feeling especially confident. despite his cock sitting on his stomach heavy and leaking pre-cum, the sheer size of it didn’t intimidate you. you can take it.

“think you can take it?” his voice sounds playful, and the grin plastered on his face makes your cheeks flush. the way he was staring at you made your heart skip a beat. so full of love and adoration, as though he wasn’t splitting you open on his cock a few moments ago.

but his loving stare doesn’t last long. both of his hands rest on your ass, and they deliver a harsh smack to the skin which makes you jolt forward. suguru captures one of your breasts in his mouth, and you sigh out when his tongue glides over your hardened nipple. he pulls away with a hum, a string of saliva attached to his lips and your thumb wipes it off.

“c’mon pretty girl, show me what you can do.” the praise is enough to make your pussy flutter. your hand reaches down to grab his cock, and your thighs shake a little as you stand up straight to position the tip of him against your folds.

you quietly hiss when the tip goes past your folds, the intrusion a little painful. suguru takes notice of your struggle and presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder, removing a hand from your ass to gently thumb at your clit.

“there you go—easy, eaaasy,” he whispers, his eyes locked on your face while you’re busy staring down at where your pussy and his cock meet. you don’t notice how his eyes are blown out with lust at the sight of you trying to take his cock, his heart fluttering in his chest because fuck—his dick was big for you, but you were giving it your whole mainly for his pleasure.

and when you finally manage to get the rest of him inside you, suguru is almost sure he just saw heaven. his head is thrown back and his eyes roll to the back of his head. you gasp at the same time, your pussy clenching hard around his cock that he hisses and grips your ass.

“shit— baby, you gotta move.” he sounds out of breath, his forehead is sweaty and the dark strands of his hair are sticking to the flushed skin of his face. he looks absolutely mesmerizing, that your pussy flutters again at the sight.

“fuck—“ you listen to him and lift up your hips, before slamming your ass back down. you repeat the same movement a couple of times, but each time is a little more intense as suguru grabs your face and forces you to keep your eyes on him.

he is manspreading on the couch and you ride him within an inch of your life, the fucked out look on both of your faces looks straight up pornographic. your moans are short but loud, eyebrows furrowed in concentration when you see the way his eyes start to unfocus.

you were fucking geto suguru stupid on your couch.

you lean towards him and wrap your arms around his neck, your pace faltering a little when your lips meet his neck. you think you can bring him to an orgasm first, you’re almost convinced that he was about to let go.

until his hands grip your waist, and you pull away from his neck to stare at him. one of his hands rests on the back of your head and pushes it down so that your foreheads meet, and while you’re a panting mess, suguru still manages to mutter a few words.

“eyes on me, yeah?“ you don’t respond immediately. you can’t, because he plants his feet on the ground and starts to thrust up into you at a brutal pace. you are grateful that his arm was holding you in place, otherwise you would’ve lost complete balance on his lap.

the tip of his cock brushes against that one spot over and over again, and suguru watches as your eyes gloss over with tears and your pretty lips purse—you are so close, suguru felt a sense of pride to be able to make you look this fucked out.

it only takes him a couple of thrusts before you are cumming around him with a loud cry, your body shuddering and shaking against him like a leaf. you moan as you come down from your orgasm, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you completely melt on him. you let him fuck into you for a few more seconds before he’s emptying himself inside you with a loud grunt.

your bodies are sweaty and sticky, but you still manage to kiss each other when you finally catch your breath. the kiss is sweet and you giggle as you pull away.

“that was good.” you say, wiggling a little on suguru’s lap until he hisses and lightly smacks your ass.

“behave.” his tone is playful, and his rubs soothing circles on the skin of your bottom. “but yeah, it was so good.”

↴⤷✮ i am so normal about him.

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

#moon's works #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto smut #jjk smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #jjk getou #geto suguru x reader #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen getou #jjk x reader #geto x reader smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader smut #if i missed any cw pls lemme know in the comments

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sabersandsnipers · 7 months

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Drabbles: Just One Bed

Featuring: Astarion, Gale, Halsin, Lord Gortash

Inspiration courtesy of @creativepromptsforwriting

Astarion

There’s only one pillow. So you and Astarion have to share. Neither of you want the annoyance of waking up with neck pain. And after arguing for a bit, you realize neither of you is winning.

Despite trying his best to keep distance between you, it’s incredibly difficult while trying to share a pillow. His body cradles yours. His lips nearly touch the back of your neck. For a while he manages to keep his hands to himself, but as his eyes grow heavy, his arm snakes its way around your waist.

Your body feels like its on fire despite his cold skin. You’re worried the rapid beat of your heart will keep him awake.

Somehow sleep eventually finds you. In the middle of the night, you roll over to find a more comfortable position. When you wake up, you find your face buried in Astarion’s chest.

He himself hasn’t slept since you rolled into him. He’s kept his arm slung over you, though, and has listened to your steady breathing all night.

When you attempt to move away from him, his grip around you automatically tightens. You freeze, waiting for him to realize you’re awake, but he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t want to. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed. Your body is warm and soft, and he never wants to leave this bed.

Gale

The bed is roomy, which you’re grateful for. There should be plenty of space for you two. There’s no blanket though, so Gale roots through the closet for one.

Gale clears his throat, and you turn your attention to him holding up a rather small blanket. One that definitely would not cover the whole bed.

“You have it,” he hands it to you. “I’ll be fine.”

You hesitate. “Are you sure?”

“Most definitely,” he replies, already making his way to the bed.

You climb in next to him, pulling the blanket up to your chin. It’s barely big enough to cover your own person. You look to Gale, who’s turned away from you. He looks so exposed, and frankly, uncomfortable.

“Gale?” you say.

“Hm?” he turns to look at you.

“Do you want to share?” you ask. You hold up the blanket so he can slide in.

He doesn’t need to be asked twice. He scooches over to you, and you let the blanket drop around you two. You let out a sigh of contentment as the warmth of Gale’s body presses against you. You usually run cold, so you’re grateful he accepted your offer.

He wraps his arms around you, because there’s no other way for you two to get comfortable. In the night, he even drapes a leg over you. You don’t mind, you even find yourself nuzzling into him, seeking every bit of warmth you can.

Halsin

A rainstorm tears your tent in the night. The cold splatter of rain on your face wakes you. Your bedroll is soaked, along with most of your belongings. You groan, getting out of bed so you can seek shelter with a companion.

Out of all the tents before you, Halsin’s calls to you. You know it’ll be the warmest. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you make your way to his tent.

You poke your head in. “Halsin?”

He wakes, an alarmed look on his face. “What is it?”

“My tent ripped. Can I stay with you?” A shiver slinks through your body.

He nods. “Of course.”

He opens his bed roll a bit, and you see he’s naked. Your jaw drops. You hesitate, part of you feeling like you’re crossing a line.

But then another shiver hits you, and you practically run into his arms. You sigh as you slide into the warmth of his bedroll.

Halsin groans. “You’re freezing.”

“I know.” You don’t hesitate to press up against him, soaking in all his warmth.

“You’ll warm up soon,” he says, rubbing your back. Then his voice hits your ear. “You’d warm sooner if you removed your clothes as well.”

Your stomach drops. You know if you do this, your companionship is going to get a bit complicated. But the thought of his hot skin against yours is too tempting.

He helps you out of your clothes, your heart fluttering the whole time. When you’re fully naked, he pulls you into his chest. Your heart pounds, but you relax against the heat of him.

He fully cocoons you, wrapping a thick leg around you to pull you even closer. You feel your body start to warm, and the shivers start to cease. You try to ignore how perfectly lined up you are to him. You know sleep will be impossible like this, but it’s worth it to spend the night in his warm embrace.

Gortash

You may have had one drink too many. The wine Enver provided for you was far too good to go to waste. And waste you did not. The last thing you remember is the soft cushioning of a bed before darkness took you.

The harsh morning light wakes you. The first sensation that hits you is that of a pounding headache. The next is that of a pair of strong arms encircling you.

Confusion hits you. You don’t remember going to bed with anyone. You feel your underwear is on, so nothing happened with whoever is in the bed with you.

You slowly turn your body to see who this mystery person is. You’re met with the strong face of Lord Gortash. Butterflies fill your belly. He simply invited you over for dinner, and here he is letting you sleep in his bed.

He’s sound asleep, his soft breathing evidence of the relaxed state he’s in. He’s sleeping shirtless, and you tentatively place your palms against his strong chest. You feel the strong muscles rippling under his skin.

He stirs slightly and you quickly hide your face against his chest. He shifts, his chest hairs tickling your skin. His powerful arms hold you so gently.

With your headache forgotten, and Enver’s body sending waves of warmth through you, sleep finds you again.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #astarion imagine #astarion x reader #halsin #enver gortash #halsin imagine #halsin x reader #Gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #gale imagine #Gortash x reader #enver gortash x reader #enver gortash imagine

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miserycanary · 1 month

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BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you

tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence

He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you.

That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night.

The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you

What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind.

Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.

You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not.

“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well.

“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.

Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows.

“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.

“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”

Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle.

The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt.

“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“

You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him.

God, what has he done?

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #light angst #ghost mw2 #ghost angst #ghost fic #simon ghost x you #canary’s melodies

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sttoru · 4 months

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‘your lover may not be the best in showing his affection for you, but when he does try, it’s always in the ways you least expect.’

☀︎｜tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. fluff, slight angst, suggestive. subtly implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). size difference. mentions of hickeys. reader gets called ‘princess / little girl.’ based on an anon request.

“am home.” toji announces under his breath after locking the front door. he kicks his shoes off and makes a beeline towards your shared bedroom. as expected, you were there, body wrapped in a thick blanket to protect it from the recently cold temperatures.

you smile and toji’s fatigue becomes nonexistent. it was like he hadn’t just fought for his life for almost two hours straight — making money to quite literally survive. and to provide for you in the best way he could.

“ah, hi, babe! welcome hom—” your sentence was cut short by a heavy weight settling down atop your chest. toji’s body presses you back into the mattress, big hands instantly searching for their desired destination; that being your waist.

his warm breath - the heavy sigh that carried his worries - instantly softens the look in your eyes. it was this vulnerable side of your lover that you adored most. it wasn’t a sight you got to see often after all.

toji wordlessly attaches his lips to your exposed neck as he withdraws the blanket from your body. even though he has yet to utter a single word to you, his actions told you all, “missed you, toji.”

he mumbles something incoherent in response which you could guess were words of acknowledgement. you were ticklish, your skin tingling with every peck left by the dark-haired man whom you loved dearly.

“were ya waitin’ for me?” toji’s voice was muffled, his mouth busy kissing and sucking your skin. his rough fingers move under your clothes and run up to your shoulders—freeing them from the straps of your top.

you tilt your head to the right so he could gain more access to your skin. you didn’t protest nor said anything about toji’s sudden display of affection. you rub his back and allow a hum of satisfaction to escape your throat, “mhm. was waiting for you all night.”

your voice sounds like a soothing lullaby to the older man. a heavy breath leaves his lips and his sloppy kisses on your neck and shoulder blades abruptly come to a halt.

toji rests his head in the crook of your neck. the pad of his thumb travels up and down the marks he had left—his saliva subtly glistening under the light from the bedside lamp.

“tsk. i told ya not to stay up f’me, princess.” your lover grumbles with his tired eyes half-closed, fingers not stopping their rubbing motion, “but i guess there’s no point in tellin’ you that right now.”

toji still can’t understand why you go to great lengths to show your love for him. he’s a cold hearted assassin, a man whom is feared by many including his own clan and yet you love him unconditionally.

despite it all — he still appreciates the fact that you stay up to welcome him home. even if he may not directly show that said appreciation.

“‘i told ya not to stay up for me,’” you teasingly mimic toji’s deep voice and can only laugh at your own antics afterwards. however, a sudden pinch to your side makes you squirm and yelp. it didn’t stop there; toji took the opportunity whilst you were caged underneath him to remind you of who’s boss.

soon enough your high pitched squealing and broken giggles is all the noise that fills the room.

“whadd’ya say there, little girl?” toji grunts as he blocks your futile attempts to escape. he could see the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, your body writhing around the best it could and your little hands trying desperately to push him away.

you shake your head and continuously apologise between loud giggles, vision blurry from the tears of joy. there’s a triumphant smirk on toji’s face once he notices how quickly you gave up your act of confidence, “heh, that’s what i thought.”

one of his hands gathers both of your wrists and effortlessly pins them above your head. with a grin, your lover kisses his way down to your neck again — this time being more passionate.

you take the chance to calm yourself down, chest still heaving with each breath. a pout forms on your lips, but was swiftly replaced by a content smile due to the giddy feeling in your chest.

it’s playful moments like these that remind you of the many reasons why you’ve fallen in love with a man like toji. to others, he might be nothing but a monster—a ruthless and cruel individual—but to you, he’s everything you need and vice versa.

toji’s lips were soft, yet lightly rough to the touch. they’re chapped from the cold temperature he had to withstand when he was outside. you felt bad; you had been laying in bed all night, wrapped up in multiple blankets whilst your lover was quietly suffering.

you know that if you tell toji your current worries, he’ll brush it off with a simple ‘tha’s just how it is’ or a ‘don’t worry ‘bout stuff like that’. still, you cannot help but be concerned about the way he easily disregards his own health.

“toji,” you call out his name as his kisses reach the curve of your breasts. the older man lifts his head in response, eyebrows slightly raised at the sound of his name leaving your lips.

you push down the lump in your throat. your warm hands cup his face and you could feel his stubble prickling your palms. you lower your gaze to the rest of his body — finally getting a good look at his worn out physique.

there were faint droplets of blood hidden right under the collar of his shirt. ones toji probably forgot to wipe away after his mission. his black shirt clings to his torso, the dark spots of sweat subtly evident and the small tears in the fabric proof of his hard work.

you could care less about the fact that toji hadn’t taken a shower before cuddling with you. the first thing he did when stepping into the apartment, was to search for you. that alone told you enough: he needed the comfort your presence brings him — he just didn’t know how to convey that message.

“kiss me.” you whisper and your lover immediately complies with zero hesitation; that’s exactly what he had waited for you to say. his lips crash down onto yours, his large hands hold you by your waist and his tongue brushes against yours like it was the first and last time you’d kiss.

toji’s breath hitches the moment he feels you tenderly scratch his arms with your nails. you always do that to calm his nerves after a stressful day—grazing the tips of your nails back and forth against his bare skin. and it works wonders each time.

“fuck,” the dark-haired man curses in a low tone. his grip tightens on your body and his lips detach from yours. you notice the look in his eyes once he opens them; the look of pure love for you, “i missed you so much — so fuckin’ much.”

you softly giggle at his passionate words and steal another kiss from him before settling back against the pillows. your hands travel upwards to play with his damp hair whilst your legs wrap around his waist.

toji gladly accepts your affection and settles down on top of your body again, careful not to completely crush you with his weight. his face was buried between your breasts, taking in the familiar scent of you which calms him down even more.

“i’m glad you’re back home.” you whisper lovingly whilst continuing to massage his scalp. your tired lover answers with a curt nod and a sigh — this time one of content instead of exhaustion.

“yeah, home.” toji wasn’t referring to your shared apartment. he was referring to you; his forever home. there was an overwhelming amount of love in his heart for you and only you.

if only he could properly express those feelings to you. if only he could express himself.

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #toji x you #toji fluff #jjk x y/n #toji x y/n #female reader

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 2 months

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ask me to leave and i’ll stay forever ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru is stubborn; even when plagued by such a high fever, he insists there’s no need to take care of him. thankfully, you’re equally as stubborn.

word count; 10.8k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, implied non-sorcerer!reader, sickfic, reverse comfort, sickening amounts of fluff, lots of petnames, satoru gojo vs the mortifying ordeal of being loved, just a tinyyyy bit of angst if u rlly squint, literally just satoru being pampered for like 10k words straight, he’s cute when he’s sick but still manages to be a lil shit <33, he’s also a huge sap you have been warned!!

a/n; what can i say, im a proud member of the ”satoru gojo needs to be babied relentlessly” club <33 he’s just a little guy!! tagging @catchuuu my beloved for being the sweetest enjoy a healthy dose of sick sleepy satoru <33 i am tagging all toru enjoyers in spirit btw i love u all

you’ve never seen satoru like this before.

head buried into a big pillow, white locks tousled and sticking to his forehead — skin sweaty, hot to the touch, with a flushed face to match. heavy breaths fall from his parted lips, blinking in and out of consciousness, squeezing his eyes shut.

it’s nothing like the joyous, loud, cocky satoru you’re so used to. he’s weak. he’s fatigued.

he’s completely, undoubtedly sick.

”really, baby,” he slurs, raspy and dry. still attempting to raise himself up, arms straining under the weight of his shivering body. ”there’s no need f’ —”

unceremoniously, his limbs give out beneath him, and he tumbles right back down; a meek little wince escaping his throat as his face falls back into the mattress. the sound makes your heart squeeze tightly in your chest.

”ah. that’s…” he tries to speak, a disgruntled hum muffled by the sheets. ”… annoying.”

satoru sounds frustrated. you can tell he’s resisting the urge to close his eyes, a little helpless, unable to even move properly, like a fish out of water. he’s still breathing unevenly, still sweating, still burning up — you can practically feel it, from where you’re standing, crouched down by his bed.

you’ve never, ever seen satoru like this. you’ve seen him sniffling during flu season, wrecked with headaches during rainy season. you’ve seen him vulnerable; not many times, but enough that it matters.

but you’ve never seen him like this.

(and it makes you terribly anxious.)

”satoru, please just —” you croak, gnawing at your bottom lip. trying desperately to swallow the worry in your chest. ”don’t overdo it. please?”

you can hear the anxious little timbre of your own voice, and you can feel the frown tugging at your lips. but you can’t do anything to quell the insistent pitter patter of your heartbeat, the ache that accompanies it. satoru’s lying down, still trying to gather the strength to reassure you, even through the feverish haze clouding his mind.

he looks so small.

this wasn’t what you were expecting to see, today. you were expecting to meet up with satoru, and see his happy little grin, those tiny dimples and freckles that only show themselves in the light of the sun. you were expecting to feel the weight of his hand in yours, as you strolled down to the new crêpe stand he’s been wanting to check out since he first found their instagram account.

you were expecting to see him happy. healthy. a little obnoxious, a little annoying — but hopelessly sweet. all the love you could ever need, molded into a human shape. your little angel.

a sigh slips from your lips. you can’t help it; because satoru is just so stubborn, so closed off, and he can be such an idiot sometimes. you knew something was off the moment he sent you that text, asking you oh so charmingly, apologetically, if you could postpone your date for just an hour or so. you knew something was wrong, but he still wouldn’t let up until you brought out the 🥺 emojis.

and then he told you he was fine. it’s all he ever is, apparently.

my throat’s just a little scratchy, is all. wouldn’t want you to miss out on the voice you love so much, yeah?

give me an hour and i’ll be perfect for you. <3

moron.

he’s curled up in a fetal position, trying to stop himself from shivering, muttering little reassurances under his breath that you can’t make out. wearing ripped jeans and a nice jacket, like he was fully prepared to head out like this — like he genuinely thought an hour, some painkillers and a dream would be enough to chase away a fever this severe. like he was so desperate to see you he was fully willing to take that risk.

moron. moron. he should’ve called you the moment he realized he was sick. instead, you had to coax him into letting you come over, with a flurry of sad and cute emojis you know make him go weak at the knees when they’re coming from you.

and here you are. in satoru’s house, in front of his bed, trying to convince him that he is, in fact, sick.

but he just won’t listen.

”just — gimme a couple minutes, honey?” your boyfriend mumbles, barely coherent, stringing words together haphazardly. awfully dizzy. ”i just need the painkillers to kick in, i promise i —”

”satoru.”

there’s a sad tint to your voice, now. unmistakable. one that satoru notices, even through the feverish, muddy filter over his reality.

and it makes him quiet down.

(he doesn’t want to disappoint you.)

as gently as you can, you settle down on the bed, eyes painfully softened. overflowing with care. towering over him, leaning close — to press your lips against his scorching forehead, brushing away his sweaty bangs with a palpable tenderness. your voice soothing, coming out almost as a low coo. you’re frustrated, and exasperated.

but most of all, you’re worried.

”go back to sleep,” you hum, a gentle command. your hand finds his, cold skin meeting warm, tracing circles over his palm. ”i’ll take care of you.”

”there’s no need,” he mutters, instantaneous. so used to denying kindness.

but he curls an arm around your waist, anyway, tugging you closer; a little needy. like you’re much too far away for his liking. finally beginning to settle down, coaxed into resting by the soft touches your grace him with. it’s only a matter of time.

so you keep your lips against his forehead, cradling his slender fingers in yours, murmuring little whispered reassurances. and before you know it, his lashes have fluttered shut, like a white dove landing on the ground. he still looks so troubled, so meek. you can’t resist the urge to soothe him, hand cupping his face, thumb smoothing over the apple of his cheek. you watch him lean into it, eyes dripping with care. your poor baby.

for a couple precious moments, you allow yourself to indulge in the sight. even like this, he looks a bit like an angel, a painting come to life. like one wrong brushstroke could smudge him.

so you’re delicate, as you trace little hearts into his skin, delicate as you maneuver his body enough to peel the layers of clothing off him — leaving him in only an oversized tee and a pair of briefs. satoru can only whine, softly, so quiet you barely even hear him. so disoriented, on the brink of falling into a deep slumber. some part of him is trying to resist, you’re sure, still agonizing over the date he’s missing out on. as if anything matters more than his health.

but it doesn’t work. he can only let out a tiny groan, hopelessly pliant as you tuck him in, pulling a big blanket over his shoulders. you card through his hair, another soft kiss planted on his sweaty forehead — and your hand stays between his locks until you’re sure he’s asleep. his breathing mellows out, his grip around your waist loosens, seeking comfort from you even in his dreams.

you’d crawl under the blankets with him, but you have work to do.

stealing one final glance at your fever-ridden lover, your heartbeat ricochets. he still looks so meek, all warm and sweaty, shirt sticking to his skin. a frown tugs at your bottom lip.

satoru is always so stubborn, refusing to lean on others for support. you wish he had called you immediately, nagged at you to come baby him. sure, you might’ve sighed in faux exasperation, and teased him a little, but it still would’ve made you feel happy. useful. and you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. maybe, if you just prove that you can take care of him properly, he’ll do it next time.

so you stand up, leaning down to press your lips against his forehead one last time, and make your way towards the kitchen.

satoru’s house is spacious. a little too spacious, enough for at least three people to live in comfortably; nice furniture, an expensive sofa in the living room, a large tv you’re almost certain he only keeps around for white noise. such are the ways of the rich, you suppose. he doesn’t invite you over very often, so you’ve never had the chance to get very affiliated with the space. it’s always the other way around — him, waiting for you on the couch when you get home, chirping out an unconvincing don’t even worry about it, baby! when you ask how he got in without a key. or him, showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, filling the sleepy silence with jokes to distract you from the bags under his eyes.

(he likes it when you cling to him in your sleep — he sleeps a lot better that way. that’s what he told you, at least, when you brought him coffee in bed that one time. a little glimmer of honesty.)

he stays over so often he might as well just move in, but you aren’t really sure how to even approach that subject. some part of you fears it’d be too much, too intimate, that he’d pack his bags and run away. bringing all his secrets with him, that soft laughter you’ve grown so fond of. so you figure it’s better to let him make a home out of yours, let him curl up on your couch and snack on the candy you hid in your kitchen cabinets. that’s safe for him.

and now that you’ve seen his home up close — if you can even call it that — you think you’re starting to understand his preference. because it’s spacious, yes, but also empty. save for expensive furniture and fake houseplants, there isn’t anything to indicate that the apartment belongs to him, that he feels comfortable there. like he hasn’t even bothered to make it his. like it’s about to be sold, and you’re just one of the potential buyers, checking the place out. admiring the patterns of the floorboards and the walls.

it doesn’t feel like satoru at all.

his own bedroom was another story, a much more pleasant one. a lot more satoru. filled with little trinkets, key charms and souvenirs and silly figurines. a framed photo of three students by the windowsill, an old uniform hanging by his closet, socks strewn about here and there. a dying houseplant. comic books and movie posters and a ps5 you don’t think he’s touched since he finished spiderman 2. a king sized bed, that makes him look like a spoiled little princess when he’s lying in it, next to a cat plushie you won for him at a fair. knowing he actually sleeps with it kind of makes you want to cry.

there’s this particular scent, too, lingering in the air. mellow, nostalgic, the kind that soothes you with just a whiff; a blend between sunlight, expensive cologne, and something sweet. it clings to all his favorite clothes, to his skin. you’d live in it if you could.

something constricts, inside your chest — like thorny vines strangling your beating heart, pressing down ever so slightly. just thinking about it, about him, about his distressed expression as his head hit the pillow. making your way over to his kitchen, getting yourself affiliated with the space, preparing to make a good soup for his fever. the fridge is almost empty, save for sweets and that one drink you like. the takeout boxes on his kitchen table tells you all you need to know.

it only makes you worry more.

luckily, you were clever enough to buy your own ingredients on the way here. chop, chop, into tiny little pieces. chicken soup should help, shouldn’t it? it’s all you can focus on, all you can hope for. anything is fine; you just want to help him, be of use somehow. he does so much for you.

you just want to give some of it back.

satoru’s loneliness is a subtle thing. flexible, alert, slipping away at the slightest sign of knowing eyes. for someone who’s so often surrounded by people, cracking jokes and laughing louder than anyone else, he doesn’t seem to make any noise when he’s alone. he curls into himself, just a bit, and a kind of reminiscence smooths over the contours of his face.

that’s when you see him. that lonely, lonely guy. resigned to his self-imposed isolation, paradoxically yearning for something more. watching as the cherry trees bloom, like they’ll give him the answers he seeks once they bear fruit.

but the moment you come into view, he smiles. knowing you won’t push it — that you’ll let him take his time. that you’ll let him flee, just a little.

still, you can’t help but wish he’d lean on you a little more. you wish you could chase his loneliness away with a pitchfork, but it’s a fickle creature. you somehow doubt he wants to part with it.

all you can do is love him. love him, love him, and love him some more; until he’s had his fill.

(you’re not sure he ever will. it’s a good thing, a very good thing, because you’re almost certain you’ll never run out.)

and that’s why you’re here. in his ghost of a home, his kitchen, pouring water into a large pot. tender, sprinkling love over every single action, every slice and dice, every piece of chicken and veggies thrown into the boiling water. you try and you try, hoping it’ll reach him.

but before you can make another attempt, something reaches you, instead.

two long arms curl around your waist, suddenly, something warm and soft pressing itself against your back. and you almost flinch, completely caught up in the stirring of the soup, unsure of how much time has passed since you began. it jolts you out of your thoughts.

you know who it is, though. never mind the fact that he’s the only other person in the apartment; you know it’s him by his touch alone, the weight of his arms, that particular scent that surrounds him. like memories of summer.

it’s awfully sweet, the way he clings to you, the soft little blissful sigh that slips from his lips. but before you can feel moved at the domesticity of the gesture, worry clouds your senses. he doesn’t even get the chance to speak.

”satoru —” you place a palm on his forearm, craning your head to look back at him. his forehead rests against your shoulder, and his eyes are closed. he’s still so warm, too warm. ”what are you doing here? you should be resting.”

your boyfriend mumbles something, under his breath, something that your ears can’t quite digest. he shifts, a little, as if getting ready to put on some sort of act — to smile and joke, or laugh and tease you. you can imagine what he’d say if he wasn’t in such a feverish state; he’d hug you from behind, a low purr of what’cha up to? whispered right into your ear. then you’d jolt, and he’d giggle sheepishly, satisfied with the reaction.

but now, all he can do is cough. still leaning against you, gripping onto your midriff a little more desperately than usual. you step away from the stove, turning around, making sure your hands never leave his. looking up at him with concern in your eyes, noticing his little frown.

”c’mon, you need to lie down.” you reach for his cheek, cupping it in your palm, and he practically melts into it. enjoying the chilly sensation to his fever-ridden skin. “the soup’ll be finished soon, okay?”

”… you made,” he tries, syllables falling from his lips haphazardly. ”soup —” a series of coughs. they cut him off, and the worry in your chest only deepens.

“don’t push yourself, okay? you’re really sick, dummy.” satoru pouts, but doesn’t say anything, only clinging to you tighter when you usher him away. “let’s go back to your room, alright?”

but he won’t budge. he’s so sleepy, so sick and delirious, putting all his body weight on you. you try your best not to stumble beneath it.

”honey,” you plead, holding him securely in your embrace. his arms around your waist, your hands on his shoulders. ”work with me, please? just gotta get you back to bed —”

”’s…” he whispers, suddenly, a raspy little thing. scratchy, meek, awfully earnest; you wonder if he’s too sick not to be. ”… too lonely without you.”

a moment passes. your breath hitches pitifully, at the base of your throat.

satoru is hugging you so tightly, as if you could disappear at any moment, slip away if he doesn’t keep you close. he’s holding you as if pleading for comfort, for a touch of safety. as if he needs you. if his meek little admission hadn’t already melted your heart the marrow, that thought certainly would’ve done the job.

taking a moment to collect yourself, you inhale, face surely aflame. satoru just nuzzles into your shoulder, too tired to say anything else, wanting to be close to you. it’s a wonder your knees don’t buckle.

gently, you let your hand trail upwards, palm smoothing down his hair. softly, like he’s a clingy, overgrown cat. ”sorry,” you start, just a little breathless. ”i’ll be with you, okay? won’t leave you alone. i promise.”

there’s an earnesty in your words that you doubt you could ever fake. satoru must hear it too, you think, because he finally begins to work with you. allowing you to stumble towards his bedroom, supporting his weight.

but once you make it to his bed, he still refuses to let go of you.

”toru, gotta go finish that soup. ’n make you some tea.” you rub his back, soothingly, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. shaking his head and emitting a throaty groan, only squeezing you tighter when you try to guide him under the covers. how cruel of him, to act so cute when said soup is most likely boiling over by the stove. ”please, sweetie? it won’t take long. i promise. you can go back to sleep.”

another groggy huff. you’re both still standing by the edge of the bed, and satoru still won’t let you leave. all you can do is sigh, smearing a little kiss against his neck.

he squirms, ever so slightly, and you get an idea.

so you keep pressing little kisses against his skin, knowing just how to make him melt. feeling him relax in your embrace, snuggle into your chest, so pliant that he lets you tuck him in — as long as your lips stay pressed against his jaw. before he can realize what’s happening, you grab hold of the blanket, draping it over him; his half-lidded eyes blinking up at you. you press a final kiss against his forehead, grabbing the cat plushie from the edge of the bed and placing it close enough for satoru to reach if need be.

”i’ll hurry, toru. be a good boy and stay here, alright?”

a teasing lilt sneaks into your voice, coaxed out by how adorable your boyfriend looks like this; baby blue eyes all droopy, snowy hair messy as it falls across the cushion he’s resting on. blinking sluggishly, grunting a little in response.

when you scurry off the bed and make your way towards the door, you glance back at him. he’s still looking in your direction, with half-lidded eyes, and your chest aches. ”i’ll be back soon, baby,” you try to soothe him. “try to sleep.”

this time, you hurry. body working almost on autopilot, images of your boyfriend still tugging at your heartstrings like he’s arranging an orchestra, moving your legs forward. before you know it, you’re walking back, carrying a tray with both your hands. steam wafts up from the hot soup and the warm cup of tea, shaking a little as you walk, a pair of painkillers in your pocket. just in case he needs more. an eager, pulsating joy rushes through your veins — now you can be with him, tend to him, not leave him alone in a room so like him you wish you could stay there forever.

your footsteps are light, almost careful as they cross the threshold. satoru stirs, waiting for you to come to his side, looking like a kicked puppy in his giant bed. he tries to lift himself up, but it looks like it requires an intense amount of focus, like his elbows could buckle any second.

”careful,” you croon, hurrying over, placing the tray on the nightstand. gently pushing him back down on the mattress. he complies almost instantly, too out of it to put up a real fight. staring at you, as if in awe.

to satoru, you appear almost as an angel, a somewhat blurry figure that he recognizes without looking. your very presence is soothing, like a lullaby in human form. with the hazy filter clouding his mind, he can’t even seem to form words correctly — all satoru can focus on is you. your movements, the lilt of your voice, a cold hand dulling the heat of his forehead.

his fever still hasn’t gone down. you try and muster a smile, but you’re sure it must look painfully coated in unease. crouching down, you place your elbows on the bed, your jaw meeting the mattress. you’re at eye level with him, now.

”hey,” you start, low and comforting. you don’t want to be too loud. ”sorry it took so long.”

using what little energy he has left, satoru crosses the distance between you, inching closer and closer. noticing it, you reach a hand out to cup his cheek — lips quick to find his forehead. a barely audible sigh leaves him, and you smile.

”d’you think you can eat?” you whisper, gazing at him fondly. treating him a little like a baby, maybe, but you can’t help it when he’s like this. quiet as a mouse. ”i made soup and tea… sound okay?”

he tries to make a noise. it comes out sounding like a strange blend between a dissatisfied groan and an affirming hum, but he still ends up nodding slightly. you wonder if indulging you is ingrained into his bone structure.

”… okay. think you can sit up, toru?”

once again, your boyfriend only hums — but he does begin to move, trying to hoist himself up, wobbling pitifully. you help, keeping him steady until his spine meets the headboard. slumped against it, he blinks slowly, feverishly.

”thank you.” you press a chaste kiss against his cheek, before reaching for the cup of tea, the scent of chamomile and lavender filling your senses. you blow on it softly. ”here. it should help with your throat, so try to drink a bit, okay? s’ got honey in it.”

silently, he accepts the cup, bringing it to his lips. when he takes a sip, you catch the slightest hint of a grimace on his lips; even with your warning of careful, it’s hot, you think he must have managed to burn his tongue.

satoru keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to worry you. but he can’t say bringing himself to drink it is an easy endeavor, with how sweaty it makes him feel, how it forces him to acknowledge how painfully dry his throat is. how he can’t even taste the herbs.

he wants to be good for you, though.

so he gulps it down, slowly, managing to sip almost all of it until you decide to give him a break. compared to this morning, he already feels just a little better, a little less like he’s in a fever dream. you’re sitting by the bedside, so patient, so caring. he can’t take his eyes off you, even now. clearing his throat, attempting to get used to speaking again. ”thanks.”

the mutter sounds strained, but slightly easier on the ears, easier to make out than before. courtesy of the honey, you assume. gosh, you hadn’t realized you’d begun to miss his voice so much.

”no problem,” you hum, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “think you can eat something? or is that too much?”

”’course,” he croaks. there’s a slight sense of liveliness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but before he can continue, he’s caught off by a small coughing fit. harmless, but sufficient in making you worry.

”no need to force yourself,” you soothe, patting down his head, watching as he quiets down. the tea might’ve given him a temporary energy boost, but you still don’t want him to overdo it. “just relax, satoru.”

he hums, weakly, and you reward him with a light ruffle of his hair. then you direct your attention to the soup on the nightstand, still hot, smelling of vegetable broth and fresh chicken and coriander. you bring the bowl down to your lap, and take a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it like you did with the tea. bringing it towards his lips.

”i dunno if it’ll taste very good,” you admit, scratching absently at the back of your neck. ”but it should help with the fever, at least. i’d be happy if you could eat a bit.”

as his lips make contact with the metal of the spoon, satoru can’t help but let himself be swept away. he still feels a little too hazy, too feverish to really comprehend what’s happening; he feels oddly bare like this, vulnerable, a little afraid of what might come out of his mouth if he doesn’t keep it shut. so he opts to accept the treatment he’s receiving, not putting up a fight or making a fuss. not meeting your expectant eyes.

(he feels a little shy, being spoonfed by you. how very unlike him.)

the soup does feel soothing. he thinks he can even get a sense of the taste, how hard you must’ve worked on it. but more than anything, the way you’re acting is like balm to his soul — looking at him so kindly, treating him so tenderly. offering him spoon after spoon with gentle words of encouragement. being babied in such a way makes him feel so oddly content that he’s almost embarrassed. it should be the other way around.

yet here you are, spoonfeeding him soup that you made yourself, because he’s sick, even though he hates to admit it, and you care about him. he allows the information to linger in the back of his head, for a while, wallowing in the comfort it brings him. fully comprehending it would take too much of a toll on him, in this state.

satoru basks in the intimacy of the situation, and so do you. brushing strands of hair away when they stick to his skin, pressing your lips against his forehead to check his temperature. you keep doing it until satoru’s appetite dwindles.

”alright, that should be fine —” you glance down at the bowl, now roughly half-empty. more than enough, you think. ”uhh… how do you feel?”

”… better,” satoru answers, truthfully, the ghost of a smile on his glossy lips. ”thank you.”

for a second, you only stare, saying nothing. there’s something in satoru’s expression that catches you off guard, something that’s a little hard to identify. is it the way the light reflects off his skin, his pupils? the red, feverish flush of his skin? that flimsy little smile? or is it the honesty in his eyes, the way he’s looking at you like he’s trying to convey something he can’t put into words?

as you look at him, take him in, the boy you love so dearly, you can’t help but feel like he just carved open his chest — let you peek inside his ribcage. it’s hard not to feel flustered, in the presence of something so vulnerable.

and he’s thanking you. as if taking care of him is a great burden, a chore, something you’d demand gratitude for. you want to tell him that it’s the bare minimum, the very least of what he deserves. the very least of what you could, should do for him.

you want to tell him that he’s safe, here. that there’s no need to be the strongest, whatever the hell that means, that he can let go of the burdens you know he hides from you. that he can just be your sick, terribly stubborn boyfriend.

”… okay,” is all you breathe out, every other word getting stuck in the back of your throat. ”that’s good.”

satoru’s fingers curl around yours, suddenly, where they lay on your lap. his movements are still a little groggy, disoriented, as he brings your hand up to his lips. they’re warm and soft, especially so in light of his fever. he closes his eyes, white lashes catching the light of the sun, flitting in through the haphazardly closed blinds. your heartbeat stutters.

”… love you,” he mutters. a soft little thing. your eyes don’t leave his face. and your lips part before your brain can instruct them to.

”i love you too,” you blurt out, instantaneous. like you couldn’t bear to keep him waiting, even for a second. ”… satoru.”

he smiles against your skin. he always does, at the sound of those words. you make him feel so terribly, terribly weak, all the time, everyday. you make him feel so human, and he can’t bring himself to think of it as a bad thing anymore.

he’s still cradling your hand when he brings it down to the blanket. ”thanks for coming,” he continues, pushing himself. trying to get the words out while he still has the energy to say them. “you didn’t have to.”

they’re a little clumsy, a little stale on his tongue, but they’re honest. he is thankful — the prospect of being seen like this is discomforting, gruelingly so, but he doesn’t mind nearly as much if it’s you. he’d never tell you, but he did feel just a little lonely, when he woke up this morning. disoriented, enveloped by hot flashes of pain, in a way he’s not used to in the slightest. missing out on your date, too, that he had been looking forward to ever since you decided on a time.

but, as if sensing it, you came to his rescue. the feeling of your lips on his skin was the first sensation he felt, when he woke up for the second time — with you by his side, this time. his guardian angel, carrying the scent of spring with you. a memory of a certain boy, of better times.

(satoru thinks you’re nostalgia personified. he likes to imagine that you met as children, underneath a cherry tree somewhere, but he knows it’s not true. there’s no way he wouldn’t remember you.)

you smile. pleased, at his show of vulnerability, small as it may be. ”i wanted to,” you assure him. equally honest, equally full of double meanings and hidden messages that neither of you need to uncover to understand. ”… i care about you. of course i’d come.”

a light, raspy chuckle; that’s all satoru manages to vocalize. his mind is stuffed, and there’s an ache in his chest, longing to be filled. it’s been there for a while now. but somehow, you seem to fill it up, slowly but surely, almost effortlessly — with every sound you make, every slight movement, every flicker of an expression on your face. everything seems so effortlessly perfect, in his eyes.

the words leave his lips before his mind can think the thought to reel them back in.

”what did i do to deserve you…?”

you blink. a moment passes.

then your eyes soften, considerably so, crumbling at the corners like the cookies satoru loves so much. he’s looking at you, eyes soft in a similar sense, layered over with adoration. you think the love inside your chest might crawl out of your throat and eat him alive.

you give him a chuckle of your own, quivering slightly. terribly fond. this time, you’re the one who drags his hand up to meet your lips; kissing his knuckle softly. his breath hitches.

”i’m the one who should be saying that to you,” you grin, a little weakly. and you mean it. you don’t think you’ve ever meant anything more.

it’s so honest that it strikes a cord right down his heart, more heat than the fever can account for rushing to his cheeks. satoru hopes you don’t notice it. all he can do is squeeze your fingers, lightly, not trusting his voice not to break. silence lingers, and you only gaze at him softly.

”… do you want anything else?” you finally ask, with a tilt of your head. still so eager to assist, racking your brain to come up with anything else to do for him. ”i’ll get it for you, no matter what it is.”

and, truthfully, satoru thinks you’ve done more than enough. more than he could ever make up for. but he’s always been greedy, and there’s one thing, only one thing, one thing he can’t help but ask for. something he craves more than anything. he can’t help but indulge himself, indulge in his selfishness, in the need to feel your skin against his.

so he stretches his arms out, and looks at you with a distinctly needy glint in his eyes. his fingers move in a grabby motion, almost unconsciously, and he might’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t still so feverish. all he wants is to keep you close, to make the hollowness inside his chest dissipate. you always make that lonely feeling go away.

needless to say, you heed his request. almost instantly, your heart pumping in a steady rhythm, with this visceral desire to keep him close, to protect him. and who are you to resist, when he’s asking you for it himself?

you waste no time crawling beneath the covers, situating yourself right next to your lover. only then do you finally, finally, reach your arms out to pull him close; so close you feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart. his cheek meets the softness of your chest, snuggling closer, and you card a hand through his soft locks. his arms reach around your midriff, a perfect puzzle piece, and he releases an audible sigh — deep and satisfied. in his tired, clingy state, he subconsciously throws a leg over yours, trapping you further.

you wouldn’t have it any other way.

finally, satoru can fall asleep. with the fever still clouding his senses, and your nimble fingers smoothing along his scalp, the occasional kiss to his head as he listens to your soft heartbeat, he’s drifted off before either of you know it. melting into you, into your warm embrace, cheek squished against your chest. tiny little breaths fall from his lips, and you feel like you’re cradling the whole world in your arms.

you’re relieved. making yourself comfortable on your back, with satoru sleeping soundly on top of you, hoping he’ll feel better when he wakes up. careful, even with your breathing, intent on letting him sleep. knowing he doesn’t get nearly as much rest as he should, most days.

before long, even you succumb to the cozy atmosphere, gradually dozing off. satoru is always warm, even more so now, and his weight is comforting.

stifling a yawn, you tug him a little bit closer, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. you could use a day of catching up on lost sleep, too.

when you wake up, you’re acutely aware of something poking your cheek.

it’s a ticklish sensation, sort of irritating, and it rouses you from your cozy slumber. disgruntled, so cruelly ripped away from your sweet dreams — satoru was in it, you think. you feel robbed.

still, you can’t be too mad. not when the real deal is right in front of you, eyes crinkled and full of warmth, a teasing smile on his lips. he’s still snuggled into your chest, all cozy and cute, as you lay on your back, propped up by a myriad of fluffy pillows. he looks up at you adoringly.

”well hello there,” he purrs, shooting a giddy little grin your way. still poking your cheek. ”wakey-wakey, sunshine!”

a series of blinks. you stir a little further, the sleepy haze of your brain beginning to slip off, slowly but surely. it takes a couple of seconds for you to remember why you’re here, what happened before you fell asleep.

”… hey,” you greet, at last, stifling a yawn and squeezing your eyes shut. stretching lazily, like a sleepy cat. ”how do you feel…?”

”i’m perfect. better than perfect, actually,” satoru chirps, a little cheeky, hoisting himself up so that he’s hovering above you. a hint of mischief in those pretty eyes. ”you’re a good nurse, y’know?”

you huff out a chuckle. as always, his actions reveal more than his words — you could tell he felt a lot better the moment you saw his smile, heard how he formed his words. “alright, that’s good,” you hum, exhaling softly. ”how long was i asleep? what time is it?”

”i woke up just now, too,” satoru lies, albeit a small one. he did wake up recently, only to spend what he thinks must’ve been at least fifteen minutes staring at you until he physically couldn’t take it anymore. he had to hear your voice, see your smile. it’s a personal record for him; usually he spends less time admiring your peaceful expression, far too eager to speak to you.

”it’s pretty late,” he continues, another small lie. pleased with himself. ”way too late for you to go back, actually. how about you spend the night?”

another blink, your eyelids heavy and droopy as they open and close. then you’re reaching for your phone on the nightstand, and checking the time. a smile is quick to bloom on your lips, teasing and bubbly, as you tilt your head to meet his gaze.

”it’s only four, satoru.”

”way, way too late,” he only reaffirms, flopping down on top of you again, keeping you from leaving. ”god knows what kinda creeps are out there at this hour — much too unsafe. i’m just looking out for you, baby.”

”of course,” you indulge him, a sly little roll of your eyes that makes him pout. ”you know i was planning on staying over anyway, right?”

”well, of course! i wouldn’t expect anything less from my favorite nurse.”

his eyes betray his words, gleaming with a sudden colour of excitement, all glitter and relief. a joy that clogs up his throat like seafoam, and spills out from his lips. you look down at him, for a second, unable to resist the temptation — reaching for his forehead with the back of your hand.

it’s significantly less scalding, now.

you let out a sigh, laced with relief, one you didn’t know you’d been holding in. ”it really has gone down,” you hum, stretching the sleep from your limbs again. “that’s good.”

satoru huffs. ”i said i was perfect, right? don’t you trust me, my sweet lover?”

”i never know with you,” you give him a huff of your own, exasperated. fond. “you said you were just fine this morning, too.”

”i was!” he whines. piling up lie after lie. “i totally could’ve made it to that date, you know. i got worse because you had no faith in my abilities.”

”right. of course.” you shoot him a lopsided grin. ”you just don’t wanna admit the fever beat your ass, huh?”

”see? no faith.” a chuckle slips from your lips, and satoru has to bite back a smile. ”unbelievable. i fought that fever off just for you, and here you are, laughing at me.”

”oh? i thought it was thanks to my top notch nursing skills?”

”well, that too! but it was mostly me.”

a sigh. “whatever you say.” then you’re smiling, once more, unable to help yourself. eyes crinkled at the edges, soft around the corners. ”i’m just glad you’re better. i was worried.”

satoru pouts, again, but you can tell he acknowledges it — your earnest concern. this is how you love, the both of you, through words that never say it all and actions that say the words your mouths can’t fit. decoding the meaning of it all in silent gestures, glints in your eyes. little truth games.

”you really thought a lil’ fever was gonna be enough to keep me down?” he shakes his head once, then twice. and you know that what he means to say is i never want you to worry. “c’mon, now, baby.”

another lighthearted roll of your eyes. ”yeah, yeah, yeah. my sincerest apologies, my strong, stubborn, totally-not-sick boyfriend.”

”don’t you mean your strong, perfect, beautiful, clever, flawless, totally-not-sick boyfriend?”

”don’t think i didn’t notice you sneaking the stubborn out of there.”

”hehe.”

a silent moment passes, something tender filling up the space between your words. satoru’s weight is still so comforting, like a big blanket, his arms enveloping you as he breathes in your scent. you’re so happy that he’s acting insufferable again.

”alright, my honeybee,” he suddenly chirps, breaking the silence, hoisting himself up. ”time to go. we can still get those crêpes if we hurry.”

you blink. once, then twice.

”… satoru.”

”yeah? what’s up?”

you give him an unimpressed look, gazing up at him, towering over you like he fully thought you’d be alright with letting him leave. ”you’re… not going out today,” you deadpan. “you know that, right?”

this time, he’s the one who blinks. once, then twice.

”huh? why not?”

”uh, because you’re sick, maybe?”

”what?” satoru pretends to be shocked, offended, as if he can’t believe you’d even suggest something so outrageous. ”i’m all better, though!”

you raise an eyebrow, thoroughly displeased. all better? ”your fever isn’t gone, satoru. it’s just not horrible anymore. you’ll get yourself even more sick if you go out now.”

”i won’t! seriously!” he insists, looking down at you with a sorry attempt at puppy dog eyes. ”i feel good enough to run a marathon!”

”you’re not doing that either,” you mutter. then a sigh, exasperated. you can’t let this charade go on for too long. ”come on, satoru — don’t be so stubborn. we can go there another time.”

”but —”

”besides, didn’t you say i have to spend the night because it’s too late to go outside? remember the creeps?” there’s amusement in your voice, a light smile on your lips. ”what if they get us?”

”well, they obviously won’t get you while i’m there,” he huffs. ”what, you don’t think i can protect you properly? you’re hurting me, angel.”

you bite back an incredulous laugh. god, he’s stubborn. you’re so in love with him you just barely restrain the urge to pull him in for a kiss.

”sa-to-ru,” you coo, dragging each syllable out, sending a shiver down his spine. ”we’re not going outside. end of discussion.”

”why not, though?” he continues to pout, still refusing to give in. resorting to cheap guilt-tripping. ”don’t you wanna go on a date with me? you don’t want to see me happy, is that it?”

you only sigh, thoroughly exasperated, reaching up to cup his cheek nonetheless. he nuzzles into it. ”you’re such a baby.”

”your baby.”

another sigh, to mask your adoration. at this rate, the back and forth will never end, so you scramble for solutions.

“can’t we just have our date here?” you suggest, after some contemplation. ”i bought some ice cream on my way here. we could watch a movie, or something. isn’t that enough?”

satoru’s eyes bore into yours. contemplative, as he lets the silence linger, gears turning inside his mind. he wants to go outside with you, wants to hold your hand and hear you hum happily as you bite into your crêpe; wants to steal a bite when you’re not looking.

but it is a tempting offer. you could eat ice cream, and binge a bunch of movies, and he could rest his head in your lap. coax you into playing with his hair.

(he’s maybe, just maybe, a little bit tired, too.)

so, finally, he sighs — softly. in resignation.

”… well, i guess that’s fine,” he pouts, allowing himself to fall back into your embrace. his voice is muffled, as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck. ”i wanted crêpes, though…”

”i’ll get you your crepes,” you assure him, relieved to have reached a compromise. ”i can go buy ’em myself and come back. then we —”

”no, no, no!” satoru suddenly interjects. whining, tugging you closer. ”you’re not going anywhere. not without me!”

a sigh, just as adoring as it is fatigued. ”then i’ll… order crêpes, or something. or we’ll eat ice cream today and then crêpes when you’re better. does that sound okay?”

satoru is silent, for a while.

”… okay,” he hums. ”that’s fine.”

”haah. okay, good —”

”however!”

you give him a look, a silent what now? that has him smiling. shuffling a little, in your embrace, planting his jaw on top of your chest and gazing up at you with a grin. ”instead of the crêpes, i want a kiss.”

you blink. exasperated, as an amused chuckle follows. ”so convoluted. you can just ask, you know?” you don’t give him time to answer, eager to appease the pouty man. ”whatever.”

leaning in, you press a chaste kiss to his cheek. sweet and soft. to your surprise, he’s still pouting when you pull away. ”i meant on the lips,” he explains, as if it was obvious.

a tilt of your head.

”… but you’re sick.”

”so?” satoru just pouts, expression practically etched into his face at this point. ”you won’t kiss me anymore? just cause i’ve got a tiny, miniscule fever?” he huffs, turning his head to the right and shutting his eyes. ”if you don’t love me anymore, you can just say that.”

another sigh leaves your lips. he’s so ridiculous. you can’t really deny him, though.

”… fine. it’s your fault if i get sick, though.”

in the blink of an eye, he’s perked right back up. wagging his non-existent tail, closing his eyes and waiting for you to try again. silly.

but you relent. his lips are only slightly warmer than usual, and you choose to see it as the good sign it is, proof that his fever truly is starting to dissipate. you feel satoru relax, melting into the kiss, but before it can drag out too long you’ve pulled away. ”— there. happy now?”

”for now,” he quips, equally teasing. he’s cute, though. a little kiss or two is a small price to pay for the spark of joy in his iris, even if it ends with you sick on your deathbed in a couple of days.

”that’ll do,” you grin, hoisting yourself up with your elbows, carrying satoru with you, his jaw still on your chest. ”wanna go eat some ice cream, mr unreasonable?”

you don’t really need an answer. of course satoru wants ice cream. you’ve never seen him turn down anything sweet — and, lo and behold, he perks up again, getting into a sitting position. like an excited puppy.

”got it,” you chuckle, stopping to think for a moment. “there’s soup left, too. but maybe you’d rather order something? it turned out kinda so-so.”

satoru gapes. ”you kidding? that was the best soup i’ve ever had!”

his exclamation makes you roll your eyes, words so coated in confidence that you almost want to believe him. ”satoru. you don’t have to lie.”

”i’m not!”

”you couldn’t even taste it.”

”i could, i could!” he stubbornly whines. ”i tasted all your love. every single drop!”

you give him a look. he only grins at you, a little teasing, a little giddy. you can’t help but feel a bit embarrassed; averting your gaze with a sharp scoff, trying to appear unbothered. ”yeah? and how did my love taste?”

satoru leans forward. it’s sudden, and you blink, instinctively leaning back in turn. he’s wearing a signature smirk when he stops moving, close enough that you feel his breath on your skin. hot.

”delicious,” he purrs, glancing down at your lips. blue eyes gleaming with mirth. ”best thing i’ve ever had.”

you know he’s just trying to fluster you, so you try to fight against it, but it doesn’t work nearly as well as you’d like — crumbling under his gaze, averting your own with a quiet huff. and he lets you off the hook, satisfied with your embarrassed expression. pulling back slightly, letting you breathe.

as swiftly as you can, you regain your composure. clearing your throat. ”well, you can have more of it later, then,” you make a move to get off the bed. ”let’s go eat ice cream.”

after being caged in by satoru for so long, your limbs are a little stiff, caught under the weight of his boundless love. when your feet hit the soft flooring, you stretch them out, watching satoru follow your lead. still clad in that sweaty shirt.

”you should probably get a change of clothes,” you suggest, exhaling as your muscles loosen up. ”you’ve been wearing that shirt all day.”

”oh? is that an excuse to see me out of it, sweetheart?” satoru grins, fresh mischief gleaming in his eyes. ”you know you can always just ask.”

you huff out a sardonic breath. ”yeah, yeah, whatever. throw on a hoodie or something, weirdo.” you stifle a giggle when he makes an offended noise behind you. “and some pants.”

”you don’t like the underwear?” he looks towards the corner of the room, studying himself in the mirror. “this is an expensive brand, you know?”

”you’re the only person on planet earth who’d give a fuck about underwear brands,” you scoff, a little snarky. ”just — put some comfortable clothes on, okay? i’ll go get the ice cream ready.”

”wait!” he exclaims, attaching himself to you, curling his arms around your bicep. “you’re not allowed to go anywhere without me, remember?”

“… okay, okay. hurry up and get changed, then.”

sitting back down on the bed, while satoru walks towards the closet, you scroll through your phone — refusing to meet his expectant stare. he wants you to look over, you’re well aware, just so he can tease you for trying to sneak a peek. but you’re not falling for it this time.

when he’s done, he’s wearing a comfy hoodie and some sweatpants. it’s a good look on him, casual and cozy. awfully cute. he wastes no time in attaching himself to you, again, an arm linked with yours as you travel to the kitchen; grabbing the pints of ice cream from the freezer, a couple snack bags from the drawers, before plopping down on the couch.

satoru maneuvers you into his lap, and you don’t put up a fight, leaning into him as your back meets his chest. he keeps you locked in place, arms around your waist, planting his jaw on the top of your head. and he relaxes, comforted by your smaller body pressed up against his. holding you so close satisfies a certain protective itch in his brain, never failing to calm him down. a safe haven, of sorts.

you watch the movie and eat the snacks, chattering away, letting the silence linger every now and then. after a while, satoru gets a slight headache, resting his head in your lap and whining for you to soothe him. you do so without any teasing; you’re much too soft for him. and he’s still sick, even if he’s doing better. you couldn’t resist him even if you tried.

so you opt to indulge him.

”baby, i think my fever’s going up again…” satoru pouts, gazing up at you through fluttering lashes. ”can you check?”

you smile, with a raise of your eyebrow. ”this is the fifth time you’ve asked me to check your temperature, toru.”

”just wanna make sure,” he whines. “please?”

with an exaggerated sigh, you lean down, lips once again meeting his forehead — humming against his skin. nope, his temperature hasn’t gone up. just like it hadn’t gone up the last time you checked, or the time before that.

”you’re good.”

”oh, thank god,” he exhales. ”are you sure? like, a hundred percent sure? maybe you should check again. just in case.”

”satoru,” you coo, a teasing lilt on the tip of your tongue. ”you can just ask me if you want a kiss.”

”a kiss? scandalous. i just wanna make sure my condition doesn’t worsen.”

he’s grinning, and you’re rolling your eyes, and both of you know damn well you’re going to indulge him anyway. he sighs in satisfaction when he feels your soft lips on his heated skin.

”hmm…” you narrow your eyes, thoughtfully, before looking down at him with a teasing smile. ”nope. definitely still the same temperature.”

”you sure?”

”a hundred percent.”

”hmm. okay, got it.” he rolls over, burying his face in your stomach. wrapping his limbs around your midriff. “that’s good. just wanted to check, you know?”

”of course.”

”might need you to check again soon. just to be safe,” he chirps, biting back a soft grin. you don’t bother hiding yours.

”got it, got it,” you coo, fingers carding through his messy hair. “anything for my sick baby.”

satoru releases a soft breath, bordering on a giggle. you can’t help but let your smile grow wider, heart brimming with affection. you let it clog up your chest until the movie’s almost over, and you simply can’t help yourself anymore.

”your room is very like you.”

it’s sudden, breaking the peaceful silence, making satoru stir. you’re both starting to get sleepy again. but he blinks up at you, studying your expression before parting his lips.

”… oh? how so?”

“well…” you stop to think. humming, absently fidgeting with a lock of your boyfriend’s hair. ”when i first walked in, i thought the whole house felt kind of empty, you know?”

satoru hums. unsure of where the conversation is going, maybe just a little intrigued. he mostly just likes listening to you talk.

”but then i went into your room, and — it just felt very you. kinda messy, and stuff, but cozy. and a little sentimental.” satoru looks up at you, admiring that certain soft glimmer in your eyes. you meet his stare with a smile. ”maybe it doesn’t make sense? i guess i’ve just been thinking about it.”

he closes his eyes.

there’s something soft in your tone, something silky and simple, and he can tell you’re being sincere. it’s something he likes about you — that willingness to be soft, almost pridefully so, to bare yourself even if you aren’t sure that he’ll return the favour. he likes to think it’s rubbing off on him, slowly but surely; he doesn’t think he’s quite as bad as before. telling you about things that are dear to him isn’t something that scares him, anymore. and even when you see him vulnerable, sick and delirious in bed, he isn’t afraid that you’ll use it against him.

you’re a comfort; his safe haven. a place to rest his weary head. maybe you always have been, even before he really got to know you.

”i like your place more,” he finally admits, lighthearted in its weight. your gaze flits down, but his is still lingering on the tv, not really paying attention to it. ”it feels very… you.”

a smile crawls up to rest against your lips. playing along, your hands finding solace in between his fluffy locks. ”how so?”

and satoru smiles. eyes sparkling with something mellow, like a soda pop cracked open on a boiling summer day. he shifts a little, just to gaze up at you again. ”it’s… homely. warm,” his smile only grows. “and awfully sentimental.”

he lifts a hand up, to touch your cheek. tender, as his thumb smooths against your skin. it’s warm, beneath his touch, heating up with every word he speaks. satoru’s love feels a little like the sun, when it spills out this fervently, like it could burn you into cinders — you think you’d be happy to lie in the ashes. he’s smiling at you, like sunshine, like little dusty specks of light. and he exhales.

”i wouldn’t mind staying there forever.”

the expression on his face is a lovely one. you take a moment to simply bask in it, desperate to etch it into your memory. you don’t think you could forget it even if you tried. how fondly the light of the room embraces him, that soft grin he’s shooting your way, only vaguely teasing. and his eyes, the gateways to his soul, so sincere you can’t look away.

you love this man with your whole chest. you knew before, you’ve known for a long time, but each day you fall in love all over again. it’s all you can think as you look at him, all snug and safe and happy in your lap.

you don’t realize you’ve been staring at him silently until he chuckles, pulling you out of your sentimental stupor. it only flusters you further.

”you’re cute,” satoru croons, still cradling your cheek. tender, soft fingertips against your heated skin. all you manage is a meek little furrow of your brows, but that only makes him chuckle again.

”… you can.”

he blinks. still smiling.

”stay forever, i mean.”

you can’t look at him, when you say it. the words are barely above a whisper, and you aren’t sure if they’re conscious or not. it’d be nice to say they just slipped out, but they feel somewhat deliberate, all the same. you know you mean them, either way. it’s the one thing you’re sure of.

this time, satoru is the one who can do nothing but stare, his expression unreadable. you try not to let your gaze wander to his face, his eyes; but through the peripheral of your vision, you feel like you catch a particular kind of sadness reflected in them. or maybe it’s something closer to yearning, longing. something like that.

”… well,” he finally hums, voice so low you barely pick up on it. ”maybe i will, then.”

you reach something.

you catch a glimpse of it, at least, for just a second or two. something warm and bare, something simple and incomprehensible at the same time. an emotion so strong it leaves you reeling, yet still so light. it’s there and then it isn’t, just out of reach, and you think that if you could only find the courage to curl your fingers around his, then —

a laugh track plays from the tv, snapping you both out of your thoughts.

(the moment passes before you can fully understand it, fully comprehend it. maybe some part of you already has.)

…

satoru chuckles, reaching for another ball of mochi and popping it into his mouth. ”this movie’s awful, huh?”

”yeah,” you’re quick to agree, maybe a little too quick. grinning weakly. ”it’s good in a so bad it’s good kinda way, though.”

he hums in absentminded agreement, still chewing on the soft treat. keeping his gaze steady on the screen, the flicker of emotional scenes he hasn’t been keeping track of, barely resisting the urge to look up at you again. but his heart already feels a little too mushy for his liking — he’s not sure he could take it.

satoru doesn’t get sick often.

his immune system is strong, there’s no denying that. but more than anything, he simply can’t afford to be sick. there are people who need him, people who depend on him, and the idea of being in such a defenseless state — stuck in bed while the world continues to spin, unattended — makes him feel so anxious he could throw up. even sleeping makes him feel a little skittish, sometimes, though he’s gotten a lot better since he started falling asleep with you in his arms.

it’s funny, he thinks. before you, being sick wasn’t something that really existed in his world. if he felt a little under the weather he would simply puff out his chest and down a painkiller or two, waving it off with a flick of his wrist; no biggie, really. he’s satoru gojo, after all, and the world needs his eyes on it.

but then you came along. you came to his rescue, spring in your pockets, and you took care of him, with what he knows to be love. genuine, earnest concern for his wellbeing. his happiness.

yeah — it’s funny, for sure. satoru never thought he’d ever enjoy being sick.

yet here he is, head in your lap, feeling you run your fingers through his hair. kissing his forehead whenever he whines, indulging his little convoluted ploys. bringing him soup, when he gets hungry again, soup you made yourself. he wasn’t kidding when he said he tasted your love through it; it was all he could taste, with his numbed out senses, all he could feel.

you’re so good to him. there’s nothing he would trade for these moments with you, absolutely nothing. he’s glad you came over, after all. glad you’re so stubborn, and oh so caring. satoru can’t help but smile, heart almost stuffed to the brim with gratitude — what could he possibly do with this immense love in his chest?

”i love you so much,” he blurts out, practically beaming. now you’re in his lap, again, and he takes the opportunity to smear openmouthed kisses against your neck. delighting in the little squeak you try to muffle.

”where did that come from?” you blink, squirming a little in his embrace. a movie is still playing on the tv screen, one better than the last — your attention was fixed on it before satoru broke the silence.

”just felt like saying it!” he only chirps, grinning ear to ear. ”i love you. you’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he murmurs, earnestly, lips against your skin. ”my whole world.”

for a moment, you wonder if the fever is making him delirious. then again, this is pretty standard for satoru; always eager to fluster you, to shower you with love until you’re pushing him away. it’s overwhelming, but you’ve never minded. this is how you measure his love — little gaps between too much and never enough.

”… you’re not gonna say it back?” comes a whine, right by your ear. now he’s nibbling at your neck, little beast that he is, pouting because you let the silence linger for too long. he’s being such a baby about it. but you still rush to reassure him, echoing his words in earnest.

”i love you too, satoru,” you smile, slightly exasperated. craning your neck so that your lips can meet his jaw, and satoru grins, giddy at the attention. ”my whole universe.”

satoru lets out a happy little noise, almost a giggle, sleepy and pleased. his arms squeeze you just a little tighter, like you could never be close enough, even when he’s got you in his lap like this. if he could, he’d keep you there all the time. attached at the hip, close as can be.

even with a ruined date, even after worrying you, he feels well and truly satisfied. because you're here, and you’re watching a good movie, and you’re gonna stay over tonight. when it gets dark out, he’ll get to fall asleep cuddled up beside you, hold you in his arms and feel you nuzzle into his chest. then he’ll pepper your face with kisses to wake you up, and you’ll grumble all sweetly, and he’ll carry you to the kitchen despite your grumpy protests. you’ll eat breakfast together, chatting and enjoying the way the sunlight flickers around the room like a happy cat. maybe he can even make you breakfast himself, to thank you for today.

if the fever’s gone by then, you’ll probably let him outside. then you can go get those crêpes, and maybe go to a park, or to the movie theatre, or a fun arcade, before heading back to your apartment to relax. and then he’ll stay over. the day after, too. and the day after that.

living together with you wouldn’t be so bad, he thinks. it wouldn’t be bad at all, actually.

the thought has been on his mind for a while, now. getting to fall asleep with you every night, eat breakfast with you every morning, see more of your footprints in his life… satoru can’t think of anything he’d like more. maybe he’ll start hinting at it, slowly but surely. if he can lure you into broaching the subject, that would be ideal — but if he has to, he doesn’t mind doing it himself. you’re worth the emotional toll.

you curl into your boyfriend a little further, his jaw now resting cheekily on the top of your head, large palms underneath your shirt and rubbing circles into your bare skin. you have no idea what he’s thinking, no idea about his plans, and he thinks that’s for the best. he knows you’ll indulge him, at the end of the day.

maybe he’ll just ask you, tomorrow. if you say no, he can just blame it on the fever making him delirious.

#save me sick soft sweet sappy satoru….. save me……..#he means the wholeeee universe to me :’3 i love this specific toru sm !! i really do think he’s a lonely sweetie at heart :((#i wrote this fic a LONG time ago but i polished it a bunch so hopefully it doesnt feel rusty !!#i scrambled to come up w a title in time but i think this one kinda slaps idk … im severely sleepy rn so it might. Not be. though 😭😭#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x y/n

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kitten4sannie · 7 days

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backstage bukakke with ateez ♡

a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3

Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.

“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.

“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.

San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”

You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”

He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”

You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.

Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”

Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.

San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”

His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”

The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.

“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.

“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”

You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.

“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”

You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”

“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”

You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.

“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.

“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”

“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”

Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”

San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”

“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”

San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.

“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.

San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”

All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.

San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve.

“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place.

“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.”

“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.”

“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?”

Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.”

“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”

“You can watch our slut suck my cock.”

Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over.

It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side.

“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks.

Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.

San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”

Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.

“Please!”

Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum.

Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.

“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear.

“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip.

“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.

You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”

The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”

San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez mingi #ateez x reader #san smut #san x reader #yunho x reader #wooyoung x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung smut #yunho smut #mingi smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #kpop smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut

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dumblilb · 7 months

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Clingy!Ellie Headcanons

Ellie Williams x Fem!Reader

(Warnings: SMUT 18+ MDNI, oral and fingering (r!receiving), masturbation, weed, fluff, loser!Ellie )

(A/N: I’ve never done headcanons before so this might suck LMAO )

* She likes to claim she’s fully independent. That she has a grip on everything. But the way she clings onto you when she gets home from work is a different story.

* She’ll walk through the door, putting her bag down, removing her shoes. And she will start to complain about her day. Making a big fuss about how stupid the people she works with are.

* But the second you grip her shoulder and bring her into your arms, she melts. Not wanting to let you go.

* If she wants to shower, she wants you in there with her. If you lay down to rest, she’s laying on your chest humming to the beat of your heart.

* She gets really needy. Always begging for you to touch her. She’ll show up at your work on her break and drag you to the back of her truck.

* Mumbling lustful remarks in the crook of your neck as she pounds her fingers into your cunt.

* You leave nail marks and scratches on her back and she loves it. She’ll stand in front of the mirror in your bathroom and look at them with a big stupid grin on her face.

* You just roll your eyes as she walks over to you. Placing kisses down your neck.

* She likes to get high and listen to you ramble about your day. She tilts her head and takes in how pretty you look when you’re focused. She loves when you stop mid sentence and realize she has been staring. You just sigh and grab the blunt from her fingers.

* She runs her fingers across your thigh as you let out a puff of smoke. She pulls you up from the couch and walks to bed.

* She loves to watch you get comfortable under her touch. She’s lay you down and help you get settled. Slowly taking your pants off she places kisses to your inner thighs feeling the wet spot on your panties with her thumb.

* She teases you. Looking up and you with a smile. “So wet already? I haven’t even done anything yet.” She moves your underwear over and starts giving soft kisses to your core.

* She’s obsessed with the noises you make. Whining and begging for her. You grip her hair and push her face deeper into your cunt. Her tongue moves rapidly making a loud moan leave your lips. Your legs shake as she comes up to kiss you.

* Pussy drunk. That’s the only way to describe the look in her eyes. She leaves the taste of you on your own lips and travels it down to your chest.

* There were times you’d catch her playing with herself. Eyes closed tight, whimpering your name as she clenches around her own fingers. You wouldn’t let her know you where there till she finishes. She would lay there heavy breathing and you’d walk over. Kissing her forehead. She’d groan and complain about how embarrassing it was. But you just smile and ask if she wants to actually feel good.

* She likes to steal your clothes and wear them around the house if you’re out. She’ll spray your perfume and try to relax. Playing video games till you come home. You smell your sent as you walk in causing you to roll your eyes. Sitting down on the couch next to her. Resting your head on her shoulder. Causing her to lean in.

* She says soft ‘I love you’s and kisses your cheek. Turning the tv off and holding you tight.

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omgeto · 8 months

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☆ I WANNA BE YOURS — GOJO SATORU

summary: your best friend was used to picking up the pieces of all your heartache. and he's been idly waiting for the day that he could have you all to himself — but when he you give him a chance just for you to snatch it away you realise you might just loose more than his heart.

w/c: 3.3k

cw: afab!reader angst to fluff, you break his heart and put it back together again by giving him a great big blowjob so mdni! also unprotected sex (its more like making love if you ask me)

an: I actually really fw this fic. id say it was my best one yet so give it a chance people, just like how you should give gojo a chance. since he's actually super loveable here. hope you enjoy!

gojo satoru was hopelessly in love with you, and everyone seemed to know that, but you. he was your best friend, someone that you relied on, depended on, its been that way since you were kids. ‘she’d never see me that way,’ he’d whine to all his friends about you, whenever they’d see you together, holding hands, cuddling, but still proclaiming the title as ‘just friends.’

you were currently crying in his arms, as he consoled you, caressing your back. gojo was used to this routine by now – you’d get a boyfriend, they’d break your heart, and he was left to pick up the pieces. “i just don’t get how this one failed, i thought i was doing everything right,” you mumble, your voice breaking as you sniffle against his chest.

“they just don’t appreciate how great you truly are,” he comforts you, a silent “i do though,’ left unsaid, as he stares down at your tear stained face.

“satoru?” you ask, pulling slightly away from him, “i'm pretty, right?”

“don’t even ask me that shit,” he scoffed, “you already know the answer.”

“just answer.” you did know what his answer would be already, but you just had to hear it, “i just need to know why all my relationships end.”

“listen to me,” he demands, tenderly holding your face in both of his hands, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you, “you're beautiful. you always have been, and it's not even just your looks, it’s your whole being, everything about you. there’s nothing wrong with you, you just have a terrible taste in guys,” he finishes with a goofy smile trying to lighten the mood.

“yeah, maybe you're right,” you reply with a soft sigh, your gaze dropping to avoid his intense stare. It was both comforting and unnerving how he could always see through your insecurities.

“i don't say things i don't mean, you know that.” he tilts your chin up gently, forcing you to meet his eyes once again. “anyways we should prob–”

you press your lips against him, interrupting his sentence, and he eases into it, his lips moving against yours with no hesitation. but you pull away as quickly as you kiss him, your eyes widening as you realise what you’ve done. “shit im sorry satoru, i didn’t mean that.”

the air around you seems to shift, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of the unexpected moment. you can feel your cheeks flushing, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze. his fingers brush against your jaw, gently guiding your gaze back to his. the intensity in his eyes is undeniable, a silent acknowledgment of the shared feelings that had been hovering beneath the surface for so long.

"fuck that," he murmurs, his voice low and tinged with a mixture of determination and vulnerability. he closes the gap between you again, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, lingering kiss.

the softness of your lips against his is a sensation he’s dreamt of, and now that it's happening, it's even more intoxicating than he imagined. his hands cradle your face, his fingers threading through your hair as he deepens the kiss.

his lips move against yours with a skilled finesse, his breath mingling with yours, creating a heady mixture that leaves you breathless. your fingers find their way to his hair, tangling in the silken strands as you pull him closer, your bodies pressed together.

“satoru, i need you.” you tug against the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his. you were desperate, craving his touch, “need you to make me feel better.”

gojo took your words seriously, aiming to make you forget about all the heartache you’ve ever felt with those other guys, and focus only on him. he lays you down on the couch, unbuttoning your shirt, pulling your tits out of your bra.

“don’t worry, ‘m gonna take care of you,” he mutters, pressing kisses into your cleavage, until his lips eventually circle your nipple, suckling and pulling at it. you gasp slightly at the feeling of his tongue swirling on your tits. your hands go back into his hair, roaming through his scalp, tugging hard as he bites down on your nipple.

his mouth remains on you, his hand trailing down into your underwear, rubbing circles on your clit. you whimper at the contact, feeling yourself getting wetter as his fingers enter you, he starts off slow pushing his digits in you gently.

“is this okay?” he asks, he wanted to make sure you felt good, that was his priority. he grins as you nod, too caught up in your pleasure to verbally respond. his quickens his pace, gyrating his fingers into you, pressing another searing kiss on your mouth.

you were dripping over his digits, as they pistoned in and out of you, but your hands reach out to his belt as you moan out, “‘toru i wanna feel you.”

“you wanna feel me huh?” he teases, unbuckling his belt with his free hand, he pulls out his hardened dick and strokes it a few times before rubbing it down your wet slit – teasing you with just his tip.

“c-c’mon,” you whine, grinding your hips down against him. he smirks at your excitement, forcing his dick inside you, your eyes widen as your pussy stretches and gojo can only bite down on his lips as you clench around him.

“you feel so good, y’know that right” he murmurs, forcing himself into you deeper, “so fuckin’ tight.” his eyes stay fixed on you, he loves you like this – pinned under him, clawing at his back, your mouth parting at the pleasure that he’s giving to you.

your legs wrap around his hips as he sinks into you further, you could feel his breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear, “you’re perfect, this is perfect.” he sucks on your collar bone, kissing and biting as he continues to thrust into you.

“‘you’re t-too much, i-it’s too much.”

“but you’re taking me so well,” he argues, with a grin. peppering kissing against your neck as he fucks you to a hilt. your hands find their way back into his hair, pulling and tugging at it as you moan out his name.

his dick twitches inside you as you call at his name, you could feel that he was about to cum. his strokes were getting sloppier, and his mouth went from biting to sucking on your neck. you could feel yourself about to climax, scratching at his back, as he continues to hit your spot.

“toru, i’m about to–”

“cum with me,” he demands, thrusting into you a few more times before you both reach your peak. and just before he’s about to release into you, his whispers a barely audible “i love you” right in your ear. he sprays your walls and you cum all over him, mixing in with him. he slumps down on you, pressing his forehead against yours, his dick remaining in you as he catches his breath.

as you finally disentangle your bodies, gojo reclines on the couch, a blissful smile gracing his lips. his breathing gradually transforms into gentle sighs, a sure sign that he has succumbed to sleep. you weren’t oblivious to his feelings towards you – the way his gaze would linger a little too long, how his hugs would be tight and comforting. he was in love with you – and you didn’t know how to deal with that.

all of your relationships never lasted, they always had an issue with something you did. you ruined them. and you didn’t want to ruin gojo, you’ve been together since you were children and he’s always been so good to you. you couldn’t bear the thought of causing gojo pain.

your gaze lingers on him for a moment longer before you turn away, your mind racing with a storm of thoughts. you've been friends for so long, and the prospect of losing that connection is heartbreaking. but you also can't ignore the truth that's been staring you in the face – gojo's feelings have crossed the line from friendship to something deeper.

as you quietly gather your clothes, your heart aches with conflicting emotions. you've always been there for each other, and the thought of hurting him tears at your very core. with a heavy sigh, you dress in silence, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts.

“you’re really just gonna leave?” he calls out behind you as you head to the door, your hand frozen on the handle.

“satoru,” you gasp, turning to face him guiltily, “i thought you were asleep.”

“you were actually just gonna leave?” he accuses further, ignoring your comments, “after this, after what we just did?”

“this doesn’t change anything,” you say shaking your head with your eyes closed, you couldn’t see his face.

“it doesn’t change anything?” he scoffs, standing up, walking over to you, “how can you say that? after i've given you my all, literally everything i can offer to you, and that still isn’t enough.”

"i was scared, toru," you ramble, the truth spilling out of you, your voice catching as you admit your own fear. he was upset, this was the last thing you wanted, him looking at you, his eyes pleading for you to choose him,"i've seen how my past relationships have crumbled, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you too."

his gaze softens for a moment, his fingers itching to reach out to you. "but things can just go back to the way they were with us," you continue, your words wavering, unsure if they're just a desperate attempt to keep things safe and familiar.

“i think we both know they can’t,” he says bitterly, his hand clenches at his side, “just answer this. why was it never me?”

“i’d ruin you,” you explain, your hand reaching out towards his, a soft smile on your face, “you’ve seen how i am with all those other guys. you’re too good for me.”

"no, I'm not good enough for you," he concludes, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and sadness. he takes a step back, his expression conflicted, as if grappling with his own internal turmoil.

with your eyes brimming with unshed tears, you watch as he rushes past you, his departure leaving an ache in your chest. "you stay, I need to clear my head," he mutters, his voice strained, and then he's gone, leaving you standing there, torn between your fears and the feelings you've been trying to deny.

as gojo stormed out of the apartment, his emotions were a tangled mess within him. the mixture of frustration, hurt, and longing had him feeling like he was caught in a whirlwind. he couldn't believe how everything had escalated so quickly, how he had allowed himself to be vulnerable, only to feel tossed aside.

“suguru, i fucked up,” he cries into the phone to his best friend, his voice laden with distress, “i fucked up so bad.”

“satoru, calm down,” geto tries to soothe him, his tone steady, “what exactly did you do?”

“I fucked her,” he forces the words out, a mixture of regret and frustration in his voice, and he could sense geto wince on the other end of the line, “she kissed me, and i fucked her.”

"that's a good thing, isn't it?" geto's voice holds a note of confusion.

gojo's sigh came through the phone, heavy with a sense of defeat. "bro, she doesn't love me back," he practically wails, the weight of his realisation crashing over him, "she doesn't love me back. i got too greedy, she gave me an inch and i took it too far.”

"are you sure?" geto inquires, his tone thoughtful, "she wouldn’t have agreed to have sex with you if she wasn’t feeling something. i've seen you two together, i've seen how she looks at you. she loves you."

"if only it were that simple," gojo mutters, frustration lacing his words. "she said it doesn't change anything between us. that it was just a moment of weakness."

there was a pause on the line, geto processing gojo's words. "look, satoru, I know it's not easy, but maybe she's just scared. she literally just got out of a break up too, she’s probably just overwhelmed."

"but what if I've ruined everything?" gojo's voice was laced with uncertainty. "what if I've made things worse?"

"you won't know unless you talk to her," geto advises, his voice gentle yet firm. "honesty is the best way to navigate this situation. tell her how you feel, listen to what she has to say, and go from there."

gojo sighs, his tension slowly easing as he absorbs his friend's words. "you're right. i need to face this head-on."

"good, this whole ‘will they? won’t they?’ schtick that you two have going on, has gotten old. very old.” geto finishes, abruptly ending the call.

gojo takes a deep breath, feeling a mixture of anxiety and determination. he knew he had to confront the situation, to lay his feelings on the line and hope for the best. with a newfound resolve, he gathers his thoughts and prepares to have the difficult conversation that lay ahead.

“you came back,” is the first thing you say, when gojo enters the apartment. you couldn’t gauge his mood, his expression was off, and you didn’t want to upset him further.

“well it is my apartment after all,” he spits out a bit too coldly, his words laced with tension. however, his face softens as he takes a step toward you, the coldness melting away,, “besides i didn’t go far, just outside.”

you nod in acknowledgement, not knowing what to say. your uncertainty making it hard to find the right words. the atmosphere is tense, and you're acutely aware of the weight of the situation between you.

"i had some time to think," gojo starts, his voice softer now, "and i realised that running away from this won't solve anything."

his words draw your attention, and you meet his gaze, searching for any clues in his eyes. "satoru, I'm sorry about what happened earlier. i shouldn't have acted on my emotions like that."

“it’s ok i-”

“no it’s not okay,” you insist, stepping towards him grabbing his hand, “i never should of acted that way, disregarding like you’re nothing. i was wrong.” you had time to think after gojo left, and you knew you were being unreasonable. there was a guy who was ready to love you, give you his all, and you were just going to throw him away without a chance.

he weight of your words hangs between you both, the air thick with the shared acknowledgement of your mistakes. and as the intensity of the moment settles, a newfound sense of clarity takes hold – the understanding that your feelings for each other can't be ignored, no matter how much you try to suppress them.

“you really fucked w my feelings y’know,” gojo’s words hang in the air, heavy with hurt. his eyes bore into yours, his emotions laid bare.

“i know,” you reply softly, your voice laced with regret, “and i’m so sorry toru. i never meant to hurt you like that. i was scared, and i didn’t know how to handle my own feelings so i lashed out.”

gojo's gaze softens, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. "you were scared? of what?"

"of losing you," you admit, your voice quivering slightly as you reveal your deepest fear. "you mean so much to me. you're my best friend, and I was afraid that if we crossed that line, it would ruin everything we have."

a mixture of emotions passes over gojo's face – surprise, realisation, and something else, something that you can't quite pinpoint. "you think being with me would ruin our friendship?" he asks, slightly offended.

you shake your head, your eyes locking onto his. "no, that's not what I meant. I just... I've seen how my past relationships ended, and i didn't want the same thing to happen with us. i didn't want to hurt you or lose what we have."

“i love you.” he declares simply, “that’s all that matters.” you couldn’t even respond because he was right, nothing else mattered. he places a gentle kiss to your forward, wrapping his arms around you.

“let me make me it up to you,” you whisper, looking up at him bashfully through your eyelashes, “let me show you how much i love you.”

“you don’t have to–” he starts, but he pauses, taking a sharp inhale as your hands slip into his jeans. you peck his lips before working his way down to your knees. you take his dick out, licking your lips as you stroke him, massaging his dick. you pepper kisses all over the tip, still keeping your eyes trained on him.

“c’mon don’t be a tease,” he whines as you focus on his tip, sliding your tongue around it as you continue to pump his dick with your hands.

you take him into your mouth, its warm and wet as you suck him in. you move your hands to cup his balls with a firm grip, massaging them as you continue to twist your mouth on his dick. you can hear him lightly cursing, drying his best to moan out at the pleasure you’re giving him. but you were determined to get him to cry out your name.

he was loving the sight of you, mouth stuffed, slobbering all over him. you were sloppy, just how he liked it, using your saliva and his precum to glide your mouth over and over his dick.

“f-fuck,” he stammers, biting down on his fist, he usually last way longer than this. but the difference is you, he would’ve never had imagined that there’d be a day you’d be on your knees all pretty, swallowing his dick. but now that you are, he wanted to burst.

you could tell that he was close, so you jut your head faster, using your hands to pump what your mouth can’t cover. he thrust into your mouth, aiding you in reaching his climax, forcing his dick deeper into your inviting mouth.

“you’re mouths t-too good, it’s–” his hands rest on your head as he releases into your mouth. you swallow all of him, licking your lips, satisfied.

“now toru,” you coo, with a smirk standing up to face him, “can you see how much i love you now?”

the rest of the night was spent just like many others you had shared together over the years, wrapped in each other’s arms in the comfort of his bed. this time, however, it wasn’t masked under the guise of friendship, you now exchange kisses with ‘i love you’ said in between each one.

AN: and that is all folks, TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS I actually dislike the friends to lovers trope, not gojos biggest fan, and I hate sucking dick BUT I LOVE IT ALL HERE. HE'S ACTUALLY REALLY REALLY SWEET, AND DONT U JUST WANT A GUY THATS DOWN TO JUST LOVE YOU! DIVIDERS BY @/CAFEKITSUNE.

#stampedwithanE★#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut

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