#this lovely is on their way home too for my fiancé! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heeliopheelia · 1 month

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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

word count: 4.3k

warnings: cursing, crying, neglect, tiny mention of bleeding

a/n: i think i win the contest of overusing commas with this one 🤍 tbh this fic is just yapping so pls deal with me... it's good to write some proper angst again tho, i missed it :(( hope you guys like it and don't find them too repetetive!!

masterlist

LEE HEESEUNG

It's been two weeks since you got the opportunity to take a proper look at Heeseung. And now as you do, you find it hard to recognize your fiancé who looks like he's about to collapse from exhaustion, to say the least.

“I never asked you to mother me or worry about me so much. Stop getting into my business so much. I’m not a child, YN.”

It’s like he was blind to how hurt his words and actions were making you feel. It’s so unusual for him, so out of character and unfamiliar to you, that you can’t help but think that maybe it really is your fault for riling him up this much.

“I worry about you because I’m your fiancé and I love you, you jerk!” You scoff at his careless words and take a step back, the aching in your heart only increasing. “I only want to look after you because you clearly don't know how to do it yourself. I mean, look at yourself! You look as if you haven’t slept in a week and I know you haven’t been eating either. How can I not worry about you when all you do is neglect yourself?”

“Dunno, maybe find yourself something to keep you busy enough. You stay at home all day, do as much as nothing, no wonder you’re so damn nosy. I would be too with this much time on my hands.”

He’s so indifferent to everything you say, you try to recall where it all started going so wrong. All you did was ask whether he’s eaten at work or not, and now the two of you are snapping at each other as if you weren’t lovers, and trying not to hurt each other was a long forgotten thought by now.

“If you’re so unhappy with our relationship – with me, maybe it’s best we take a break,” you say as you feel your throat tighten painfully.

“Agreed. I never even wanted this marriage in the first place,” he scowls, silencing you, words rolling out of his mouth way quicker than his brain is able to process it.

He bites his words back quickly when he watches your face dropping along with your shoulders, and fuck, you look as if you’ve given up on him right then and there.

You walk away then, tears streaming down your face, muttering something about how ungrateful he was being, and all Heeseung could do was stand still as if plastered to the floor, in utter disbelief of his own, untrue, words.

After his cruel statement echoes through his head for the fourth time, he finally snaps out of the self pity and rushes after you to the kitchen where you’re leaned over the counter, head buried in your hands as you cry.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. He walks up from behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his forehead on your shoulder blade. “I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry for everything I said, sweetheart.”

He turns you around gently and feels his chest tighten at how fucking sad you look. He never wants to see you like this. He never wants to be the cause of this ever again.

And when he looks to the side, his throat closes and dries completely at the sight of your engagement ring laying on the counter right behind you.

“Are you sure you didn’t mean it?” You ask, wiping the tears away with your hand pointlessly as another stream follows right after. “Things like that don’t come out of nowhere.”

“I didn’t, love, I swear I didn’t. I’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes out, pulling you closer to him by your neck again.

Never again. Never fucking again. He keeps telling himself in his head as he lifts your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your knuckles, just where your ring was supposed to be sitting snugly. Then he lowers it and places your palm against his chest, right above his heart, and covers your smaller hand with his.

That was too close to losing you, and himself, for that matter. Because he would never recover if you were gone from his life and all because of him.

“Then why did you even say it?” You sob pitifully as you feel the warm tears dripping down the tip of your nose.

“I don’t know,” he shushes you gently, trying his best to not break you any further.

You pull away once you feel calm enough, hands clutching his t-shirt. “It's not too late to call off the wedding, Seung,” you manage out breathily, raising your palm to cup his cheek. “I'd rather not take the step further than have you unhappy.”

“Darling, no.” Heeseung bends down to minimize the distance between the two of you and peppers your face with loving, warm kisses. He just wants to erase those atrocious thoughts out of your mind as quickly as possible. “Please, there's nothing I'd ever want more than to make you my wife. That was stupid of me to say. I'll never be happy if I'm not with you, my love.”

“I just don’t want to force this marriage on you. You need to want it as much as I do, otherwise it’s pointless.”

Heeseung almost chokes on air when he rushes out his answer even before you can properly finish your sentence. “I do want it. Please, you have to believe me.”

“Really?”

Heeseung smiles at you softly as he wipes your wet cheeks with his thumbs. “Really. Scout’s honour.”

You breathe out, feeling relief, and look up at him with squinted, puffy eyes. “Sometimes I just wanna strangle you to death, Lee Heeseung.”

He chuckles lightly before pressing one last kiss to your cheek. “Aren't you just so adorable? You should add this to your wedding vows.”

“Maybe I’ll add this to your eulogy instead if you pull shit like that again.”

Heeseung clicks his tongue with a grin pulling on his lips. “Touché.”

PARK JAY

The atmosphere in the living room is so heavy that your chest starts to hurt. You’re standing barely two steps away from the man you love the most, yet you’ve never felt more far away from him than in this moment.

His eyes – cold but still undoubtedly full of love, drill holes in the side of your head as you turn your face away from him to try and gather your thoughts.

Arguments with Jay were rare. You always tried to work things out immediately, keeping your heads cool. But something has broken over the last month and you can’t see each other eye to eye anymore. At the very beginning of your relationship you made a promise to never go to bed angry. To never leave things unresolved. Yet now Jay’s been sleeping on the couch for the past week, and you fail to understand what the fuck has happened to the two of you.

And you can’t help but think that, maybe, sometimes love is just not enough.

“You’re not even trying to find the middle ground anymore. All you do is snap at me the second I come home. I’m fucking tired of it! Would it hurt to give it a rest for a day?”

The tension is almost palpable. You hate how you can’t seem to back away from any argument but only keep hurting him instead.

“Put effort into our relationship first, then we’ll talk,” you spit out instead, against your better judgment.

“It’s funny coming from you who’s done nothing but put a fucking distance between us!”

“This doesn’t make any sense anymore, Jay. We need some time apart,” you finally speak into the dull silence, eyes casted downwards at the floor as your hand keeps twitching, only to finally grab for your ring finger and slip the silver band off of it. You didn’t think much of your action, hell, you didn’t even process it properly.

Well, not until you hear the shaky exhale leave Jay’s lips.

Silently, he presses his lips together and nods his head before turning on his heel and leaving the room. You listen intently to the shuffling, then ringing of the keys and eventually the door being shut.

A moment of silence turns into minutes of you staring at the ring on your palm with tears burning your eyes mercilessly.

With your heart falling low to your stomach, you drop down on the couch and tug on your hair slightly, cursing yourself for acting so mindlessly.

You wallow in self pity in the dead quiet room. The shiny ring feels so heavy and burning in your clenched fist. You take in a deep breath, then quickly slide the band back onto your finger, feeling instantly shielded with it being on its righteous place again.

And just like that, you spend the next three hours on the verge of losing your sanity. With no word from Jay. He’s left your messages unread. He’s left your calls unanswered.

You don’t know whether he’s okay or hurt or simply gone. All that combined is enough to leave you panicked and terrified, unable to have a second of peace.

You never meant to take it this far. This – your words and rapid actions, that will forever remain as one of your biggest regrets. You don’t like the idea that you made your other half feel like you’ve taken him for granted. Or for what’s worse, like a person that you can use for unloading your frustration.

There’s this throbbing pain in your chest as you realize that maybe he’s not coming back because why would he if you can’t even love him properly?

Your fingers are bleeding from how hard you’ve been picking on your cuticles.

And then you hear the jingle of keys and soon the front door opens quietly. You know that even after all of this he’s still being careful to not wake you up. It’s killing you how he thinks you’d ever be able to get a wink of sleep without knowing he’s safe.

You’re quick to drop your phone on the couch and shoot up on your legs, rushing over to the door and throwing yourself on Jay’s neck.

“I was so worried about you!” You gasp out, clinging onto your fiancé desperately as tears unknowingly make their way down your cheeks. “Please, don’t ever do that again!”

“Sorry, my phone died,” he replies after a second or two, bringing his arm up to wrap around your waist and keep you close to him.

He’s still upset but he understands where you’re coming from, knowing well that if it was you instead of him he’d probably go insane from worry.

He can feel your heart hammering against his chest, so he lifts his hand and strokes your hair to help you calm down. But then you start crying, feeling his gentle touch even after everything you said, that was enough to push you over the edge. You clench your trembling hands on his sweater as you burst out with choked sobs, slouching against his warm and comforting body.

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you weep into his chest like a mantra and Jay can quite literally feel his heart cracking at your miserable state.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, hot air hitting your ear before he presses a soft kiss to its tip. “Don’t cry anymore, honey. We’re okay.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you,” you whimper quietly. “Please, don’t leave me.”

“Don’t say that,” he scolds you with a frown. Your whimpers twist his guts even more than your harsh words from before. “It’s not the first nor the last time we’ll have an argument. It’s not worth losing your pretty head over it, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat one last time. “I promise I'll never take it off again. I’ll never lash out on you like that ever again too.”

Jay grabs your hand and runs his thumb over the thin silver band, the same one he was picking so carefully for weeks, and a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He hates how shameful you sound.

He’ll never tell you how the sight of you pulling your ring off your finger made him physically sick to his stomach. He can't have you feeling even worse than you already do. So instead he brings you close to him and rests his forehead on yours.

“I’m so stupid,” you whisper quietly as you close your eyes, your heavy eyelashes letting go of another few drops of crystal tears which Jay’s lips soak up instantly. “I don’t know what I’d do if you actually left.”

“You know me better than to think I’d let us break it off over such a petty fight.” And, yes, you do. But your lip wobbles with silent agony at the sole thought of that. “Hey,” he tries again as he presses a loving kiss to your red nose. “I’m not leaving, okay? How could I ever?”

“I love you.”

With his thumb caressing your burning cheek so tenderly, you feel at peace again.

“I love you too,” he replies without skipping a beat. “No one can handle you as well as I do. And no one sees me for me like you do. We complete each other. We belong together.”

He kisses you silly then, until there’s no more tears left in your body and you’re barely able to breathe anymore. He kisses you until your legs give in and he swoops you up to carry you into your shared bed for the first time in what seems like forever.

He kisses you until it engraves in your mind that there’s no other person for him in this world but you.

SIM JAKE

“Baby, I already apologized.” A groan lingers at the back of his throat but for his own sake he stifles it inside. “I don’t know what else you want me to do.”

You sit on the verge of your shared bed and clench your fingers on the silky duvet. “How about you start showing up to things we both agreed on attending?”

He runs his hand down his face. “I know. It just slipped my mind, that’s all. You know how busy I’ve been this week.”

“This shouldn’t be my business only, though. I mean, for christ’s sake, it’s our wedding! I would really appreciate it if you participated in something for once!”

Flowers and cake. That’s literally all you’ve asked of him to go and pick with you for the wedding reception. Knowing his tight schedule, you picked the date carefully so that it wouldn’t meddle with his work and you could even go grab some dinner afterwards. But your plans all went out the window when he didn’t even bother showing up or giving you a heads up text, standing you up yet another time when it comes to your wedding preparations.

You’re honestly getting tired of it.

“I’ll be there next time,” he assures you quickly as he nervously taps his fingers on the doorway of your bedroom.

“You said you wouldn’t do that,” your voice wavers as your shoulders drop with resignation. With the back of your hand, you wipe off the tears that made their way down your cheeks. “You promised to help, Jake. But you left me alone with everything, as usual.”

“It’s not even that big of a deal. This can be rescheduled any time. Baby, stop stressin’ so much.”

“But it is a big deal to me!” You cry out, palm reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose. You breathe out heavily. “I don’t want to do everything by myself! We’re supposed to be in this together! If getting married means that I’m gonna be alone with all the responsibilities that you don’t consider important enough, I’m not even sure if I still want it.”

To back up your words, your hand moves half-consciously to your ring finger and you twist the cool piece of jewelry in between your fingers.

“No, no, no, no.” Jake moves quickly, nearly tripping over himself as he rushes towards you to desperately clasp your hand in his two and stop you from whatever the hell you were about to do. He drops to his knees in front of the bed, right at your feet. “Baby, you promised you’d never take it off.”

You’re at a loss of words as you look into his wide eyes, the seriousness of your actions only catching up to you now. You gasp quietly, eyes watering just like his, quickly relaxing your tensed hand in his and letting him slide the ring back down your finger, just where it belongs.

Silence envelopes the two of you, besides the sound of your sniffles.

You feel awful.

Jake feels even worse.

Leaning forward, you press your face to his shoulder and melt instantly when he brings a hand to caress your hair.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper, clenching your hand to feel the cool ring against your skin. “I don't know why I did that. I didn't mean to.”

“I know,” he soothes you just as softly. He stands up from the floor and carefully maneuvers the two of you so that you’re placed on his lap as he sits with his back against the headboard. “It's my fault. I'm sorry. I never meant to disregard your feelings like that.”

At the end of the day, both of you would rather set themselves ablaze than watch the other one hurting.

You nod silently, heart pounding in your chest before you bring your arms up and throw them over his neck.

“I’m sorry I was so impulsive.”

“No. You did nothing wrong.” His soothing voice carries over the room, enveloping you with warmth. “I promise I'll be here whenever you want me to from now on. I don’t want you to feel neglected by me, especially now when you’re this stressed over the wedding. I won’t let you down, again.”

“I just need a little help, that’s all,” you mumble tiredly into his skin.

“I know.” His warm lips press to your forehead lovingly. “I’m sorry for being an insensitive douche. It won’t happen again. I’ll take some days off next week, hm?”

The tears on your face dry slowly as your hold on him tightens. “I’d like that a lot.”

“Then it’s done. I'll be all yours and you’ll be all mine then,” he hums and noses at your cheek, finally bringing out a small giggle out of you. After all these years, he still melts at the sound. “I won’t let things get this out of hand again, YN. I promise.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Tilting your head up and bringing his down towards you, you join your lips in a kiss that you’ve been longing for for days. His movements are slow and careful as he tries to soak up as much of the moment as possible.

His kisses slowly put your broken pieces back together. He never knew how much seeing you cry like this would hurt him. And he’ll make damn sure he won’t ever have to experience again that for as long as you're with him.

“If I have a life to spend, it'll only be with you, sweetheart,” he lowers his voice to match yours, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand. “You're it for me. I'll never give you a chance to doubt that ever again.”

PARK SUNGHOON

“You’re never home! There’s always a hundred things more important to you than spending an hour of your time with me. Your fucking fiance! Are we really about to get married when you’re clearly so tired of me already?”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally voice out everything that’s been sitting on your chest for the past month. Things have not been working out well with the two of you, much to your despair. He’s been neglectful, always too busy to help you with anything – even the wedding related things that you should’ve gotten done weeks ago.

And you know that he’s swamped with work and it's not his fault. You understand everything. But to ask him to spare you an hour or two of his day shouldn’t be too much. It shouldn’t make him snap at you unlike what he just did the second he came back home. You slowly begin to lose your hope.

“God, have you always been this needy? Why can’t you accept that I can’t always put you first? No matter how much I’d want to, sometimes I just can’t! Deal with this!”

“Fucking- Fine.”

Your hand moves quicker than your brain, and the next thing you know, your shiny ring is being pulled off your finger and resting in the palm of your other hand.

You can see the disbelief flashing through his face briefly before it completely morphs into a scowl.

“You really think that this will solve the problem?” He asks, eyebrows narrowed as he glowers at you from across the room. “Really? Does that ring mean so little to you that you go and throw it away with any minor inconvenience?”

You try to blink away the frustrated tears, hand raking up to brush your hair away from your face. “No, fuck, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore, Sunghoon. I feel like I’m the only one in this relationship. I need you to give me something more because whatever you’re doing now is not enough for me.”

“Well, I’m putting out everything I have, YN! I love you! If that’s still not good enough for you, then maybe it’s not meant to be.”

The silence that falls in the room doesn’t last long as your sudden sob pierces Sunghoon’s ears quickly, making his stomach drop to the soles of his feet. His heart wrenches and twists as the anger simmers down and evaporates from his body within a second, and he’s quickly coming back to his senses at the sight of you breaking down right in front of him.

“Can’t you just try?” You cry into your hands, shielding your face away from your fiance. “That’s all I’m asking of you. Is it really so hard to try?”

No, it’s not. Sunghoon knows it without a second of thinking. It’s not too hard to try, never if it’s for you. And his throat dries so quickly when he basks in the weight of his words that finally made you break as well.

“You don’t know how much it hurts to feel like you’re too much for your partner,” you wail with a small voice, shoulders trembling and hands quickly getting damp with tears. “You’ll never know how it is to feel unwanted, because you’ll never have to when you're with me. Because I love you, asshole, but now I’m doubting if you’re saying it back just for the sake of it.”

With air getting stuck in his throat, Sunghoon looks at you wide-eyed before quickly crossing the living room and enveloping you in his arms. His warmth wraps around you in what you've always considered to be safety, but now it just makes you cry more.

He finds it hard to breathe. The hesitation in your eyes feels like a stab to his chest.

“Of course I still love you,” he says, voice muffled by your hair.

He hates how he made you feel the opposite. He hates how you’re right and he never had to worry about any reassurement of such kind from your side because you’re just that good to him. And his heart breaks with the realization of how much of a lousy partner he’s been to you when all you ever were was nothing less than perfect.

So he places his hand on the back of your head and presses you even closer to his shoulder as you cry, his own eyes burning with tears at the sound of your sobs and sniffles.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my darling,” he apologizes with a heavy heart, fearful of what’s about to come next. “I didn’t mean to neglect you this much. I could say that I’m tired and the work has been a lot lately, but I know these excuses are not enough to make up for my actions.”

You’re mad and hurt, but you love him and would never want to give up on him, so you wrap your arms around his middle and hold him almost as tight as he holds you, burying your wet face in his chest.

“I love you more than anything, YN.” He pulls away from you only to cup your face and make you look at him. His long fingers wipe away the tears with gentle touch, soothing your stinging skin instantly. “You could never be too much for me. I want all of you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll love you better.”

And when you’re looking up at him with these shiny eyes of yours, he closes the distance and presses a loving kiss to your swollen lips, hoping to take at least some of the pain away. He doesn’t think he can hold you any tighter. He can’t love you any stronger than right now, and it messes with his head how easily he could’ve had it all ruined only minutes ago.

He’ll never take your love for granted ever again. Because if he did, he’d never be able to pick up the parts of whatever was left of him, and put himself back together ever again.

You can feel his warm hand opening your closed palm before he takes the ring you've been clutching so tightly and holds it in between his fingers.

“Can I put it back on, baby? Please.”

You nod wordlessly while you try to tame your tears. You hold your slightly trembling hand up to him. He takes it, gently, and watches as your bottom lip wobbles while he slides the ring on your finger just like he did months ago.

“I'll never screw up like that again. You have my word for it.”

You sniffle quietly when he kisses you right on the cool band adorning your skin. “You better not, Park Sunghoon.”

His long fingers caress your cheek, wiping the remains of the tears away. “Can you forgive me, darling?”

You don't need to think long of an answer. “You know I can never stay mad at you. Even if you're a idiot, I'll never stop loving you. You have my whole heart, Hoon. Please, don't ever make me regret trusting you with it.”

permanent taglist + taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @satoruskitchenrag @ramenoil @jenjnk @jaylaxies @yoongspi @nichoswag @s00buwu @dazzlingligth @goreconsumer @i4kt @heehoonsnemo @seongslutt @seongclb @iamnotalicia

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tojipie · 6 months

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welcome home <3

he’s unboxed ! who cheered. by far one of my most requested fics of all time. started this series 6 months ago and it remains one of my favs :,) this is by no means the end though ! i haven’t been writing any of the additions to this series in “order” and i am still 100% open to writing about his life inside/after prison lol. thank u to all the lovely ppl that have been showing love to these since april mwah mwah mwah mwah

as always, prison bf toji series linked here <3

content: (incarceration, fem reader, fluff, hurt/comfort, p in v smut, pining, road head, swallowing, creampie, dirty talk, multiple rounds)

“just step through here and—yep,” the guard waves his security want across your outstretched arms, clearing you to take your belongings from the conveyor belt.

you’d done this dance a hundred times over the past seven years, driving up to the district penitentiary twice a week to see your boyfriend—now fiancé.

toji told you he didn’t have it in him to wait, popping the question during a conjugal visit a month ago.

the man had known he’d wanted to marry you even before he got locked up. the feeling was mutual, but unspoken, always hanging in the air between the two of you.

you on the other hand had known you wanted to marry toji the moment he whispered his first “i love you,” said to you through the crackly speaker of a burner phone on a night when neither of you knew if he’d be coming home or not.

you make a beeline for the release wing, breaking into a subtle jog without drawing too much attention to yourself. the bouquet of green flowers you’d bought at the grocery store jostles in your purse, leaving a breadcrumb trail of stray petals.

there, around a bend and down the corridor stands the man of your dreams, flanked by officers and personnel at the front desk.

metal cuffs clack together as the man reaches to accept a clipboard from the release agent, skillfully uncapping the pen with his teeth to fill out the means for his freedom.

he looks up a split second before you speak, dropping the clipboard with an audible clatter. toji tears down the corridor with a look that speaks of relief beyond words.

“toji!” you yell, sprinting to the inmate with outstretched arms. you nearly trip over your own feet with how quick you barrel towards him.

warm bodies clash together at last, squeezing, cradling, and caressing every inch of each other at last. his law enforcement entourage watches from afar, some smiling, others annoyed.

you’re lifted clean off the ground as strong, tattooed arms slip over your head and around your body. thick fingers work their way into your hair, cradling your head to his shoulder.

actions speak louder than words, you know that much from how quickly he buckles, dropping to his knees with your body still wrapped around his.

toji smells different every time you come to visit. there were days when the tang of blood stuck to his skin no matter how hard he scrubbed, a telling sign of his short temper.

other days he’d smell like the earth, soil from the rec field permeating his already brown garments after his morning run.

once in a while, you’d catch hints of industrial paint and car exhaust, a smell built up from hours of making license plates for pocket change from the state. “pennies,” he’d tell you, “that’s all we fucking get in here.”

today, toji smells like himself. like the man you fell in love with 7 years ago in the passenger seat of a BMW, gazing into green eyes while gentle hands brushed the hair from your face.

you almost think he’s laughing until warm tears trickle through the porous fabric of your shirt.

strong shoulders quiver as quiet sobs rack his body, you rub his back in small circles, unable to pull away with how tight he’s holding you against his chest.

“i love you,” the inmate whimpers, wiping hot tears with his sleeve. he pulls back to press your lips together, mumbling nonsense in between kisses.

“pretty girl—m’ sorry— missed you,” his hands shake as they curl into the fabric at your waist.

you’d seen him cry exactly twice in his life. the first being the night he’d opened up to you in full for the first time, quietly relaying stories of neglect and abuse from his childhood while you kissed tears from his cheeks.

the second was well, the day he went away.

to see him break down like this so openly was devastating. he hated being emotional, told you it was humiliating. you’re sure he felt more than vulnerable, the leader of the city’s biggest drug ring, crumpled on the floor of a prison hallway

“it’s okay baby,” you tell him, still rubbing circles into his skin.

to touch him like this, at last, was unlike anything the two of you had been allowed to experience for the past 7 years. this wasn’t your two legally allowed hugs at the beginning and end of your visits, or a quick fuck in a storage closet.

this was love. to hold and be held in front of law enforcement personnel without threat of being reprimanded. this was the first time you had been allowed to feel him under the tips of your fingers with an audience, publicly declaring your claim on each other without fear.

you never blamed toji for what had happened, as angry as you were that first year. he blamed himself enough for the both of you really.

you’d come to learn over the years that it had already been too late for him to get out of his line of work way before you’d found each other, a cycle he couldn’t break.

prison was always a possibility, inevitable even. that’s just how it was.

you slowly gather your purse off the ground, cellophane-wrapped flowers coming into view.

“for me?” he laughs, slightly embarrassed. dark green carnations, just like his eyes.

“who else?” you tease, watching the distress melt from his face.

you share a look briefly, yours saying you’re safe with me. his saying i know.

the soft clicks of black work boots pull you from your thoughts, a female officer in tow.

“you guys ready to get started?” she asks softly, shooting you a sympathetic look.

toji stands with a chuckle, not letting you respond. silver cuffs dig into the meat of your thighs as you’re carried back to the group.

˚ ✧ ───────────

half an hour of paperwork for his freedom. that’s what you give the prison in exchange for his belongings and dignity.

the waiting room is quiet, sterile air filtering through dated vents. calloused fingers rub over your ankle, legs propped up in his lap.

“feels like a hospital in here,” he mumbles, trying to cut through the silence.

the cuffs are gone, thank god. though you’re more than unhappy with the marks they left on his wrists. toji doesn’t seem to mind, used to almost a decade of this treatment.

the release desk worker slides you two a yellow bag under the glass divider once you finish your task, pointing you in the direction of the bathrooms in case toji wanted to change.

the inmate—no, ex-inmate you remind yourself— hands you the bag with a disinterested look.

he doesn’t want to remember, you realize. too scared to wear the suit he had on the day the world took you from him. you quickly trash the old clothes and hold out your shoulder bag to him, fresh clothes neatly folded inside.

“always prepared huh?” toji smiles, grateful at the gesture. “haven’t changed a bit.”

you wait a couple of minutes outside the single-stall bathroom, physically picking your jaw up off the floor when he emerges.

to say that his old shirt fit would be... egregiously wrong. blasphemous even.

toji’s shirt doesn’t just “not fit”, it’s bursting at the seams as it struggles to accommodate his hulking form, stretching over plains of corded muscle like a rubber band pulled too tight.

seeing him so often had likely gotten your brain used to the change, preventing you from realizing how fucking big your fiancé had gotten. truly.

the black garment is so tight against his body that it’s practically a second skin. you make note of the way it molds into the dips and curves of his abs, mentally reminding yourself to get him to wear it for you later.

you suppose the change makes sense. if toji wasn’t with you on a day visit he was always in his cell, sticking to a strict workout regimen to take his mind off things. still, you rack your brain trying to pinpoint how and when such a massive transformation slipped your mind.

a tattooed hand snaps you out of your trance, cradling your cheek.

“you focused?” your fiancé teases, rubbing circles into your jaw with his thumb.

“i think that thing’s gonna explode if you move,” you swat his hand away.

“would you rather i take it off to be safe?” he asks, jutting a thumb behind him at the waiting room desk.

the workers make no attempt to hide their oggling, faces pressed against the glass barrier separating your party from theirs.

“no— god keep it on,” you mutter, shooting them a nasty look.

“you and your girlfriend ready to go fushiguro?” an officer says, holding the door open for the both of you. toji squats down momentarily to get a grip on your thighs, folding you over his shoulder to carry you fireman style.

“wife,” he corrects, shouldering past the guard and trudging down the corridor with calculated steps.

the coos that ring out from the help desk are humiliating.

waxed tile fades into worn concrete as the two of you pass the threshold into the prison parking lot, your soon-to-be-husband muttering a curt “go fuck yourselves” to the officers who’d wished him good luck on his way out the door.

you’re proud of him for holding his tongue, in a way. knowing toji and his temper there were a hundred more creative and undoubtedly gruesome things he could have said to the personnel who’d kept him locked up for the better half of a decade.

the world flips right side up again as you’re gently placed on your feet in front of the car.

toji raises his head to the sky, basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.

“s’ nice,” he mumbles, reaching to intertwine your hands. “felt the sun during rev time but.. not like this.”

you hum, rubbing your thumb over tattooed knuckles.

“get ready to experience a lot more sun then,” you giggle. “wanna have a look at the car?” the question is more of a rhetorical one at this point considering he’s already running his hand over the hood with a whistle.

“haven’t seen this baby in a while,” he smiles, internally gushing at your choice to welcome him to the world in the car he used to drive you home the night you met. your fiancé doesn’t have to say thank you, you know how grateful he is from his smile alone.

he falters for a bit, looking like a newborn fawn with how careful his steps are as he circles the vehicle. you figure wearing proper shoes instead of rubber slides must feel at least a little abnormal after 7 long years.

“alright,” toji states, rolling his shoulders in his too-tight top. “fuck are we waiting for, i wanna go home.”

˚ ✧ ───────────

you pay no mind to toji the first time he turns to look at you, opening his mouth to say something before slumping back into his seat with a frustrated sigh.

the fourth time it happens, you speak up.

“what are you doing?” you laugh, eyeing him from the driver's seat

“getting rubbed to death by my fucking zipper,” he mutters, repositioning his lower half to take the pressure off his cock. his frustration isn’t aimed at you in the slightest, all blame placed on his bottoms.

oh.. oh.

the whirlwind of emotions toji had gone through in the past 3 hours alone had taken a toll on his mind and body. but tasting the first morsels of freedom with you, alone in a car that smelled like you? you’d be worried if he wasn’t hard.

you had no problem helping his little problem go away, the question was how soon.

the idea that piques on you is absolutely shameful, you’re not even sure where it came from but you don’t have it in you to care.

you know this road, you’ve used it a thousand times to make the trip up to the penitentiary. judging by how long you’d been driving you’d say there was about 10 minutes left before ruler-straight tar merged into the twists and turns of the suburbs.

“when did your license expire?” you ask, cautiously peering in the rearview mirror. good, no cars.

“3 years ago,” he laughs, “why?”

fuck it, you think.

“you still remember how to steer?”

“course i d— oh.”

it finally dawns on him. you smile, shooting him a look that says “want to?”

you’re sure you have your answer judging by how quick he shucks his jeans and boxers down, freeing his cock from its confines.

“oh fuck,” he groans, struggling to keep his eyes open as your mouth presses against his base.

your fiancé steers while your head bobs just beneath the dash, one hand on the wheel and the other placed firmly at the crown of your head, guiding you up and down the shaft.

your throat flexes around the intrusion, fighting the hulking feeling of his length mercilessly fucking into your mouth.

“fuck, perfect girl— my girl,” he shudders, hips moving to buck into your slick throat.

“gonna cum, gonna— shit,”

fingers kissed in dark ink massage your throat softly, urging you to swallow the hot load coating every inch of your mouth. you flutter around his length, pulling back to clean him off with your tongue.

“fucks gotten into you, pretty girl?” he whispers, so out of breath you barely hear him.

˚ ✧ ───────────

you barely make it up the steps of the house before you’re shoved against the door, tattooed hands groping up and down your body with fervor.

“keys,” he says against your lips, “keys—fuck, now,” his voice is hoarser this time, desperation clear.

you whip around to jam the item into the lock, not unaware of the rock-hard dick grinding into your jean-clad ass from behind.

you’re being carried to the couch before you even step off the doormat, a stray throw blanket cushioning your fall as you’re pressed into squeaky leather.

“won’t be gentle,” toji groans, ripping your jeans and panties down in one fluid motion.” can’t right now.”

“don’t be.” you say, rucking his shirt off his body surprisingly quick. “wouldn’t want you to.”

you needed him, needed toji to have his way with you. to christen your home round after round until you couldn’t feel where his body and yours ended.

when it came down to it, you suppose

he smiles at the crude admission, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your drenched folds.

“filthy,” he mutters, said almost lovingly. toji grips his base and sinks to the hilt with a sharp groan, shuddering at the heat of your walls.

the stretch is delicious, filling you from every angle and pressing right against that special spot. you’re surprised at how easily he slams in, though you’re embarrassed to admit it was entirely because of how soaked you were.

toji immediately pulls back with a flick of his hips, pistoning into you like his life depends on it.

he hasn’t changed, you think. still so incredibly in tune with your body, skills that would put a pornstar to shame.

this was better than some quick closeted fuck under the cover of night after slipping a guard a rubber band of cash. this was primal, filthy. two bodies writhing against each other, the only goal being complete and utter pleasure.

toji makes no effort to shush you like he would if you were sneaking around, basking in your sighs and whines like water from a stream.

“missed this,” he says, licking a long, wet stripe from your sternum to your pulse. “missed you, missed having you every day.”

“you’ll have me forever,” you moan, sucking a purple bruise into the tattooed skin of his throat.

thick fingers thread into your hair to hold you to his neck, silently commanding you to bite down.

and so you do. you bite down hard on the junction of his neck and shoulder, licking over pink teeth marks as his thrusts reach their maximum speed.

the pleasure you feel is blinding. stars explode behind your vision while the curve of his cock hits that heavenly spot in you just right. over, and over, and over.

your climax sneaks up on you before you can think, ripping a wail from the depths of your chest. toji’s thrusts falter to a halt as you lock down on him, pleasantly caught off guard by the vice grip you have around him.

“oh my g— holy shit,” he groans, mouth hanging open. dark brows furrow it to a look of pure pleasure, emerald eyes squeezing tight.

“keep going,” you mumble, scratching rivets down the skin of his back. “just keep fucking me please don’t stop please pl—”

“yeah? keep going?” he teases, groping at the swell of your breast. “greedy huh?”

you did want more, that was the thing. you just came the hardest you ever had in years but you’d be damned if he didn’t keep giving it to you.

brutal thrusts shake the frame of the couch. your bodies meld like they were made for each other, sharing pleasure in the comfort that came with the knowledge that the both of you intended to fuck until you physically couldn’t anymore.

“gonna come,” your fiancé pants, mouthing at the curve of one of your breasts. blunt teeth brush over the bud of your nipple, sending shockwaves down your spine

“inside, fuck—please,” you’re practically shaking.

“inside?” he repeats, the word rolling off his tongue like gold. “you want my seed? huh?”

you nod, clutching to his naked back as he ruts into you, deeper than ever. strong hands grip the back of your thighs practically folding you in half, opening you up in ways you thought to be impossible.

hot release fills you up for the second time that day, shrouding your lower half in a blanket of warmth.

you sigh, low and satiated at the feeling inside of you, pulling toji to your chest when he collapses on top of you.

“we should probably..” toji trails off, completely out of breath. “should probably head upstairs.” he heaves, chest swelling with deep gulps of air.

“or we could go another round?” you mumble, throwing the question out there.

“shit, yeah.. probably should right?” he chuckles

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gojonanami · 6 months

Text

ALL'S FAIR (IN LOVE AND MERGERS) ✩ SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you're not sure what's worse -- being an arranged marriage or being an arranged marriage with the person who used to be your best friend. ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, nsfw, arranged marriage au, gojo and reader are both heirs to large companies, childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, lots of fluff + banter, gojo is down bad, geto makes an appearance, handjobs (f!+m! receiving), oral (f!+m! receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dom! + sub!gojo, degradation (slut), breeding kink, gojo has a praise kink, semi public sex, office sex, tiny amount of sexting, under the desk oral (m!receiving), pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby), pregnancy mentions ✴︎ wc: 16,381 (why do i do this to myself?)

“Why do you look so down, Princess?” Your eyes flicker up from your book, forcing your expression to stay disinterested — the one emotion Satoru hated, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your fiancé?”

“Don’t call yourself that,” you snap, and his lips curl at your reaction, “what are you so smug about? You’re stuck in the same position as me,”

“And what’s that?” You close your book, glaring daggers at his all too perfect face.

“Marrying your worst enemy.”

It wasn’t always like this.

Satoru Gojo used to be your friend — your best friend in fact. The fact your families’ companies were rivals often meant you ran in the same social circles more often than not. And it meant more than one boring adult party that the two of you were stuck with each other.

The two of you had become inseparable — attending the same prestigious schools with the most pretentious children, though the two of you were no exceptions. But you liked to think you were.

And you didn’t realize your feelings for Satoru, until someone else had.

“Do you want to hang out on Friday?” You ask, flipping through the channels as the two of you watched TV, looking for something other than the second half of movies and the reruns of shows you didn’t care for.

“I can’t, I’m going to the formal,” he replies, not looking up from his phone, and you pause.

“You’re going to that?” You raise an eyebrow, “we’ve never went,”

“Well I never had someone ask me who I wanted to go with,” his eyes flicker up from his phone, a smirk on his lips, “you jealous?”

Your reply leaves your lips like whiplash, “You wish,” you cross your arms, but you can’t help ask the question burning on your lips, “who are you going with?”

“Akari,” and you scoff, “what?”

“That girl goes out with a new guy every week,” you shake your head, “you’re better off staying at home with me,”

“So you are jealous,” he hums, leaning back on the couch, “if you wanted to go with me, all you had to do was ask, Princess,”

Your cheeks flush, which you make up for in indignancy and sharp words, “Don’t call me that,” the nickname your family affectionately had called you had become Satoru’s favorite thing to call you, “I’m just telling you to be careful — that girl isn’t someone you should trust with your feelings,”

“I think I’ll use my own judgment instead of someone who hasn’t even been on a single date before,” his tone is far too biting and his accuracy is far too sharp — and you can’t stop your face from dropping, and his lips part - regret flashing across his features, “princess—“

“Go home, Satoru,” you rise, brushing past him, “you know the way out,”

“Princess—“ he tries to reach for your hand, but you slap it away. His hand retracts like he’d been burned.

“Please, go,” you open the door for him, and he does, and little do you know that would be one of the last times you spoke.

The day of the formal arrives, the two of you hadn’t seen each other outside of class since that day. But Satoru did see you at the dance that night - on the arm of his former best friend, Suguru — the same one he had a falling out with a year ago. He doesn’t say a word to you, but you don’t miss the hurt in his eyes - but you wonder why it was there in the first place - and why he was acting like you put it there.

It all goes to hell after.

The Gojo Corporation poaches one of your family’s biggest clients in a shady backroom deal, breaking their truce and your family’s trust. Arguments and stress reach a peak over the phone and lines are drawn and metaphorical guns are drawn.

And you and Satoru are caught in the crossfire.

Not that you weren’t firing shots yourself.

It wasn’t until you pulled Satoru into a secluded classroom, and you shut the door behind the two of you. Even with the sunglasses perched on his nose as always, he flinches in the bright light of the sun setting behind you, dipping the classroom in a blazing orange — light sensitivity nearly required him to wear his sunglasses out, but he certainly made a statement in them — though what didn’t he make a statement in?

“What are we going to do about our families?” you chew your lip — you had listened this morning to your father rant about the Gojo family — unkind words to say about them all, even Satoru himself, who your father had treated as a second son — and now he was grilling you about what you had told him about the family business.

“What can we do?” His arms are crossed and his gaze is upwards, “they are going to do what they want,”

You stare at him, your heart cracks, blood rushing in your ears, “Satoru, if this gets worse, we won’t be able to be friends,” you refuse to let your voice break.

“So what? I know the way out, don’t I?” But your heart did break, “I’m sure Suguru could comfort you,”

Your eyes burn, but you can’t, you can’t let him see you cry, “Why are you so upset? You had a date—“

“And mine wasn’t the person who backstabbed me,” he bites back, “what my family did is done, and so are we,” and he doesn’t look back when he leaves.

And it was good — because he didn’t see you cry.

And now you sat with him in your living room, trying to process the fact you would be legally married soon enough.

“Worst enemy? I know you liked to embellish princess, but that seems excessive,” he snorts, “glad to know I haven’t escaped your thoughts these years,”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” and he grins his shit eating grin, and it’s almost as if no time has passed, except the person who sits before you isn’t a seventeen year old with an attitude of a shithead — it’s an adult man (albeit with the same attitude).

“Don’t need to - you already do that for me, baby,” he winks, and you don’t know whether you want to slap him or strangle him. Either way, you wanted him to shut up, “shouldn’t we at least try to make the best of this?”

“The best of what?” You scoff, ready for your veins to burst out of your head, if only to spare you the agony of this conversation, “Gojo, we were best friends a million years ago and then we weren’t and now we’re getting married - all on the whims of our families, so how do we make the best of it?”

He pauses a moment, almost thoughtfully, “I was your best friend?”

And you rise to your feet, “this is impossible,” you brush past him, but he catches you by your wrist, his thumb grazing your pulse.

“Princess, I’m sorry,” he says, and you stop, meeting his gaze reluctantly, his lips part, “that you were so annoying in high school—“

“Fuck you,” and you storm off as he cackles, but you don’t notice the small smile on his lips that stays as he watches you.

And nor do you hear him say, “God, I missed you.”

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter under your breath, as you place back the millionth dress you looked at, “we’re hardly celebrities but we have to make a public appearance?”

Your families wanted the marriage to be portrayed as a love marriage in the media - childhood friends falling in love after reconnecting - the thing of love stories. The thing that would circle the drain on social media on cute threads of meetcutes and what ifs. When in fact, you were being forced on a shopping date with an already well paid and positioned paparazzi ready to take pictures of this charade.

“You may not be, Princess, but I am quite the catch,” Satoru takes the attention in stride, not only of the paparazzi, but the passersby who gawked at the two of you. It was true, Satoru was nearly always listed as an eligible bachelor in far too many of these lists that existed, if not the eligible bachelor, and yet here you were, glued to his side like some taudry accessory.

“So does that mean if I just toss you away, someone else will catch you?” You grumble, and he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses.

“Like it or not, you caught me,” he flashes you those pearly whites, and you supposed he blinded you as you stumble forward, tripping. But you don’t kiss the pavement — but you almost wish you do. He catches you, his arm around your waist, the other on your shoulder, and his eyes graze over you in a flash of concern, and then amusement, “and I’m not going anywhere this time,”

And you flush, the clicks of cameras in the distance snapping you back to reality, as you right yourself with a fake smile plastered on your lips. You brush his shirt off as lovingly as you can, “And if I go?”

His lips only curl into his obnoxiously charming smile, as he gestures for you to walk on, “I’ll follow, Princess,”

Finally the trip is over, and Satoru is driving the both of you back, “I’m surprised you took a day off for this,” he remarks, “usually you work all week,”

“Well I wasn’t given much of a choice, now was I?” And then you glance at him, furrowing your brow, “how do you know how often I work?”

“What’s the phrase? Keep your enemies close, and your lovers closer?” He gives a wry grin as you scowl at him, “you’re not surprised I kept tabs on you, are you?”

“Well, no,” because you did the exact same. You pinned the blame on late nights and doom scrolling on social media — curiosity killed the cat.

“And now I know you kept tabs on me,” he looks far too satisfied with himself, “I’m flattered,”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off, “it’s not like you’re that interesting to begin with,”

“Sure,” he smirks, and then you glance outside, noticing you were getting further out from home rather than closer.

“Where are we going?” You sit up, glancing around — you didn’t recognize the area.

“Oh, you didn’t think our date was over yet, did you?” his lips curl, his eyes still on the road, “we are just going to a more private location,”

“If you take me to a hotel, I will slap you,” you murmur, and he laughs, a sound that makes your stomach flip.

“I didn’t know a princess’s mind could be in the gutter,” he remarks, his fingers flexing on the wheel, a small infinity tattoo on his ring finger, and your mind really then all but fled to the gutter as you thought what else he could use those fingers for.

“Oh my mind goes a lot of places,” this was growing more dangerous — for your tongue and for your heart.

And he notices your gaze flickering to his hands, and his lips curl, “I think I’d like to familiarize myself with the places your mind goes, Princess,” You flush, “but that’s for a different day.”

“Where are you taking me anyway?”

“We’re almost there, just enjoy the ride,” you eventually pull up to a park, and he leaves the car, opening the door for you, “after you, my lady,”

You slide out of the car, as he shuts the door behind you, and then pulls a basket out of the back, “Is there tape and rope in there?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Didn’t know you were into that,” he winks, as you glare at him, “it’s a picnic basket - this is a nice spot to watch the sunset,”

“You watch sunsets?”

“Only with you,” you roll your eyes.

“Such a dork - are these the lines you use on all your dates? And don’t say only with me,” you add quickly, and he snorts.

“You catch on quick,” and he takes your hand, leading you along, “come on,”

His hand envelops yours, his fingers eventually intertwining with yours, his warmth flooding your body, but you can’t urge yourself to pull away.

A bottle of sparkling cider and a charcuterie board later, the two of you watch the sun begin its descent, blazing colors bleeding into one another.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, looking over your glass as you sip, “even when we used to hang out, I was the one to bring the snacks,”

“Well times change,” he replies, “plus you’re the one who always stopped me from buying snacks,”

“You always bought only sweets — it was always chocolate, sugar, and desserts,” you roll your eyes, “I see you got over that,”

“Nah, I just decided to buy things I know you like,” and your heart traitorously squeezes, but then he points, “look,” and your gaze falls onto the sunset and you gasp softly.

“It’s beautiful,” you sigh, and you don’t notice Satoru’s gaze on your face, a small smile on his lips.

“It is,” and you look back at him, his eyes shifting to you again.

“You never answered my question,” you say, “why are we doing this?”

“Why wouldn’t we? We’re getting married, Princess, did you forget?” He expertly dodges the question, swiftly leaping over a landmine, but you weren’t one to mince words or hesitate to do a direct assault.

“We’re getting married, it doesn’t mean we have to date,” you tilt your head, “Gojo, tell me—“

“Call me Satoru,” his words are so soft, hesitant even, as if his words could break apart any second if he had spoken them any quieter.

It’s a fragility he doesn’t often grace you with - that’s he’s maybe never given to you, and you don’t wish to break it.

But you’re also scared - scared that this will break yours.

“Satoru,” you whisper, and he smiles — the same smile he’d greet you with when you would meet up after school, the same smile when he’d beat you at whatever game you guys were playing, and the same smile you hadn’t seen in so long, “why are you doing all of this?”

“Is it not obvious?” He’s leaning closer and you only realize that you’re doing the same when your wrist hurts from leaning on your hand.

“Nothing is obvious when it comes to you, Satoru,” his lips warm yours with his breath, and the sun has set - there’s no other explanation for the warmth blooming on your skin other than him—

Ring. Ring. Ring.

His phone ringing sends both of you flinching apart, but his eyes don’t leave you for a lingering moment, before he picks up.

“Hello,” his voice is unwavering even after the moment you shared, you barely hear what he says over the blood thundering in your ears, “yes, we’ll be home shortly. Ok. Bye,”

He turns to look back at you, “My parents were wondering where we went,” and you nod, “we should get back,” and he begins to pack away the things,

“Satoru—“ you start, but he grabs your hands, tugging you forward.

“What?” he smiles, “not ready to part with me yet, princess?”

You scowl, pushing him away, brushing past him to the car, “Forget it,”

And he catches you by your wrist and pulls you back to him, your back against his front, “I don’t want to forget it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I—”

And his phone rings again, and he sighs, showing you that it was your father this time, putting his phone on silent, “Our parents have impeccable timing,” and the moment is broken, as the two of you walk back to the car in relative silence, the sun long sunk below the horizon, and the moment along with it.

The wedding comes and goes without much ado — it was a private ceremony done with only your families and a few close family friends. And aside from a photo shoot that was to be “leaked” of the two of you looking far too lovey dovey that wound up circulating the media drain and ended up causing you and Satoru to keep a low profile for a week or two, not much of your life changed. The only thing being that you and Satoru slowly start to move in together, each moving your things into separate bedrooms, not that you’re around enough to even notice a shift as the work piled on due to the merger, only accumulates, and as do your late nights.

You come home again, back to your shared apartment, late at night, shutting the door softly behind you. You slip your shoes off, along with your jacket by the door, before setting your things down. You stretch your sore muscles, your stomach crying for mercy of the deprivation you had put it through today, and you allow it to lead you to the kitchen.

Satoru was surprisingly neat, aside from his own room that was a disaster zone not worth entering. The living spaces were always clean, as was the kitchen (though you had a sneaking suspicion he had hired a cleaning service to specifically tidy up when you were gone (due to the lingering lemony scent every surface had at times). You rummage through the refrigerator as quietly as you could, but not quietly enough as the lights flick on, and you feel akin to a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I feel like I’ve seen the mailman more than my own wife this week,” Satoru stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame of the door, a small grin on his lips, but a hint of something else in his eyes — concern? You don’t have the time to decipher the feeling, as your mind chooses to replay the phrase “my wife” on repeat.

“The merger has been killer to deal with — all the diligence requests has buried us,” you grumble, as you grab a box of cereal off the top of the refrigerator and the milk from the inside, and he’s holding a bowl and a spoon, “thanks,” as you reach for it, he holds it away from you.

“You know there’s something called delegating that you should try sometime, princess,” he says, tilting his head, “otherwise, you’re likely to run yourself into the ground,”

“It sounds like you care,” he puts down the bowl and spoon, grabbing the cereal and milk from you, and fixing a bowl for you, as you rub your eyes, sitting on the stool by the island.

His lips curl, “Who said I didn’t?”

You lay on the counter, staring up at him, “Didn’t know my husband could be anything but annoying,” and you enjoy the way his eyebrows shoot up, and it may have been your tired eyes, but you swore a small pink flush settled his way onto his cheeks, “cute,” you mumble, the word escaping you before you could stop it.

“What?” his eyes snap to yours, but he only finds them closed, the soft snores from your lips told him you weren’t pretending, as he stares at you, biting his lip, before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, “what are you doing to me, princess?” he murmurs.

And the next morning when you wake, you find yourself tucked into bed, as you roll over, to find your alarms had been turned off, and you were far too late to several meetings you had that morning.

You jolt up, before you find a note stuck to your shirt, you pause in your panic, to peel it off and read it:

Canceled your meetings for today and had your staff handle the ones they could deal with. You’re taking a break. You need it. - Satoru.

You wanted to protest, but even as you willed yourself to try and check your email, your body was screaming in agreement with Satoru, and you sighed, lying back down in bed, as you drifted into a dreamless sleep, with the note still in your hand.

~~~~~

“Gojo, get back in bed,” you cross your arms in front of his doorway, “you’re sick,”

“I’m fine,” he pouts, his normally pale skin flushed with a red tinge that gave away his fever, his eyes bloodshot from a restless night, and yet he still looked as perfect as ever, if not a bit rumpled from his askew hair and ruffled clothes, “I have to—”

“Rest,” you say, gently pushing him backwards towards his bed, “you need rest. You made me rest, and now it’s your turn,”

“But—”

“Satoru,” and the use of his name stops him in his tracks, as his knees buckle as his legs hit the end of his bed, “please?”

His resistance crumbles, “Princess, I’m fine—” and you press your forehead to his, making his breath catch, your face far too close far too fast.

“You’re burning up,” you ease him back into bed, as you roll your sleeves up, “will you be okay? I’m going to run out and get some supplies - have you taken any medicine?”

He shakes his head, “You can send out someone,” he says, reaching for his phone, but you grab it, “Princess-“

“I’m texting everyone that you’re sick and that you can’t make it in for the next two days while you recover,” you pocket his phone, putting it on silent, “consider this payback,” and you’re pulling on your jacket, “and I’m going to get you some things. I don’t need to send someone out. Do you want anything? I can’t get anything sweet because it will make your cough worse, but is there anything that you want?”

He shakes his head, as you snap your fingers and head out of the room, before returning with cold medicine, “I’ll give you this for now, and then I’ll grab some more while I’m out,”

You pour the medicine into the cup, and he sits up as best he could, reaching for the medicine cup, but you cup his chin, feeding it to him. He feels like his body is burning hotter from your touch than it is the fever, “I have to make sure you drink all of it, you can’t leave half of it in the cup like you did when we were kids,”

“You remember that?” he mumbles, as you help him lie down again, your hands gentle as you help lean back, and you tilt your head.

“I remember every ridiculous thing you did,” you snort, as you check to make sure you got everything — phone, wallet, keys — “just rest here, and call me if you need anything, ok?” his eyes are already starting to droop, heavy with sleep, and he gives a small nod.

And he catches you by your wrist, “Do you have to go?” he mumbles, pulling your hand close to his face, “I don’t want you to go,” his words slur, and he’s asleep in a moment, his hand still clutching yours to his face, lips brushing against your palm.

Heat flares up your cheeks, as you stand, motionless, his soft snores filling the room, as you manage to tug your hand away, and you stand over him, his mouth in an adorable pout, as sweat glistened on his forehead, white locks sticking to the damp skin. You leave for a moment to grab a cold compress for his forehead, and you come back, brushing his hair back to place the compress on. He shivers ever so slightly, but you just rub his head slowly, and he drifts back into sleep.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, and you wonder, how often has Satoru been cared for by maids or employees rather than his family? How often had they passed the buck of caring for their son to others as if it was more of a chore than a privilege to take care of someone they loved.

You leave his phone on video call with yours so you can keep an eye on him as he sleeps, even if you were going down the street, you didn’t want to leave him alone completely. Instead of music, you listened to the cacophony of his soft snores and shifting of his sheets. You grabbed the things you needed - medicine, supply for meals, vitamin water, vitamin c supplements, and anything else you could think of.

You return, door shutting softly behind you as you hang up the call, and set everything down on the counter. You poke your head into Satoru’s room to find him still fast asleep, and you remove the cold compress, going to replace it with a new one, but his hand catches yours as it brushes your forehead, and he mumbles your name.

And you flush — were you sure you weren’t getting sick at this point?

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “You’re as touchy as you were when we were kids,” and he was — there wasn’t a moment that Satoru wasn’t all over you before the ages of puberty — holding hands, hugging, even laying on top of you — but it was innocent. But even as you got older, it was poking, it was a leg over yours, it was grabbing your wrist instead of your hand.

And now, your hand was dwarfed by his, consuming your wrist and hand with his own, and it was so warm — though exacerbated by his fever. And you couldn’t help but want to lace your fingers through his. But — you pulled your hand away and replace his cold compress — you couldn’t afford thoughts like that.

Not now.

You cooked soup for him, filled with vegetables and nutrients that he clearly did not get enough of, made freshly squeezed orange juice, and put the supplements you wanted him to take on the tray you had found in the kitchen.

You washed your hands, as you start to clean up, your back to his room, and you hear Satoru say your name.

You turn and see him in the doorway, “What are you doing?”

“I should be asking you that,” he murmurs, rubbing his eyes, “what’s all this?”

“Lunch,” you walk over, waving him back into bed, “you need to rest,”

“Did you make me lunch?” he asks slowly, and you help him back into bed, as he frowns, “you didn’t have—”

“You’re my husband, Satoru,” you say, tilting your head, “I’m going to take care of you and not let you work yourself to the bone while you have a cold,”

And his lips curl at the words slowly, “Your husband,” he repeats, as if the words were foreign to him, and your cheeks flush as your words that were embarrassing enough to say linger in the air, “thank you,” he mumbles, as you nod, trying to calm your utterly burning cheeks before entering with the tray.

Satoru sits in bed still, more coherent than a few minutes before, a small smile on his lips as you enter his view, and you place the tray carefully on his bed, “Will you feed me?” And your eyes flit up to his innocent baby blues full of skies that you couldn’t say no to — and he knew that, “please?”

And now you’re feeding him, your lips carefully blowing on the hot soup as you spoon fed him, and he takes each one, “is it good?”

He nods, “It is, I didn’t know you could cook. The last thing I remember you making me was a microwave brownie that you burned,” and you rolled your eyes.

“That was because you told me to microwave it for too long,” you pout, and he laughs, sending him into a coughing fit, “karma,” and he scowls at you, before his lips split into a grin, “what?”

“Must have been pretty good in my past life,” he says, as you blow on another spoonful, “to end up with a pretty little wife like you, Princess,”

And you nearly drop the spoon, a few droplets slipping from the utensil, as he makes you flustered for the eighteenth time today — “Satoru,” you chide, and you’re not even sure what you are chiding him for — his word on a loop in your mind, “i think you’re high on cold medicine, or your fever,”

You don’t think he had ever called you pretty before.

And he leans forward pressing his forehead to yours, “I have no fever right now,” he whispers, his eyes glancing at the tray, “and I haven’t taken my cold medicine yet,”

Your words catch in your throat, and you’re swallowing thickly, as your eyes drift to his lips and back again, “Toru,” and you can’t lean away from him, he’s pulling you in, like he always did.

But then he pulls back, his cheeks flushed, “I think I should lie down,” and you blink, as you nod hastily.

“Of course,” you grab the tray and flee, leaving his medicine and water on the bedside table, heart thumping against your ribs and blood rushing to your cheeks.

And you don’t hear him grumble, “If only I wasn’t sick.”

After Satoru gets better, you barely see him. It feels empty in the house without his presence. You had grown accustomed to his loud, obtrusive presence, the clothes half thrown in the laundry basket, his snacks stacked up in the pantry and sometimes on the counters, and his cologne wafting through the halls. It seems all of that has faded with time, as he does his best to spend his time at work, and away from you.

After the billionth time of this, you get a phone call from his colleague, Nanami, asking for you to come and fetch him. You furrow your brow as he texts you the address of a bar near his work, and you arrive to find him passed out at a table, drink glasses and small plates littered the tabletop, his pale skin flushed, as he snored slightly as he slept.

His colleague too was flushed, but still sat with drink in hand looking utterly irritated and bemused, “How much did he drink?”

“Maybe two drinks?” and you raise an eyebrow, “he’s a lightweight, but he likes to pretend he isn’t,” he snorts, shaking his head, “did you two have a fight?”

You tilt your head, as you check on him, fingers brushing over his skin — he was so warm from the alcohol, “No, why do you ask?”

And Satoru is mumbling your name, again and again, pouting, “Is that you, my wife?” you flush, and that was your cue to get him out of there. Nanami helps you get him to his work car, luckily that came equipped with a driver, and you slide in beside him, as he dozes, his head drifting to your shoulder. His breath is warm against your neck, as he nestles into the soft skin of your nape, and you can feel his lips move, only catching your name between soft sighs and snores.

“Satoru,” you mutter, brushing his hair from his eyes, “what did you do?”

The driver helps you get him inside, and you’re left with him, his body leaning against yours on the couch, as you rouse him, “Satoru, wake up,” your hands cup his cheeks, and his eyes flutter open blearily.

You can still smell the scent of alcohol on his breath — and you know it’s sweet from the scent that drifts from him. Sometimes you wonder if he would taste sweet with how much sugar he consumes, but you brush that thought to the back of your head, as he finally speaks.

“Are you a dream?” he murmurs, and you have to suppress your laugh at his puppy dog stare.

“Don’t think so, Satoru,” you pinch his cheek lightly, “see? I’m real,”

He smiles, so gentle that it almost takes you aback, “Too real,” his hand slides over yours, flattening it against his cheek, “your hand is so soft, just like when we were kids, and we’d always hold hands anywhere we went,”

You swallow thickly, wondering if your cheeks were hotter than his were from the alcohol, “Well my family hasn’t sold me into manual labor yet, so they’ll stay that way,” and his eyes widen almost comically.

“I wouldn’t let them do that,” he says, almost every other word slurred, “can’t do that to my wife,” and your traitorous heart squeezes, despite itself, despite everything telling you that it didn’t mean anything — that he was drunk — and the million other reasons to brush it away, your heart does what it does best — takes it to heart, “I missed you so much,”

And he’s burying his face in your shoulder, warm breath against your skin making you shiver as you hold him gently, “then why have you been avoiding me?” He’s mumbling into your shoulder now, as you can’t help but laugh, “Stop, you’re tickling me.”

And his stare lifts and settles upon you, stopping your breath in its tracks, “I didn’t want to avoid you, I just was…” he mumbles something incoherent, “I couldn’t face you,”

“Why?” and it’s objectively cute the way he pouts, his face scrunching up like a child, his brow adorably furrowed, as he mutters under his breath slurred words you can’t make out, “let’s get you to bed — if you promise not to avoid me anymore,” you hold up a finger to his face.

He nods, lips still in the same pout, “promise,” he murmurs, as you help him into bed, but as you do, he grabs you, tugging you into bed with him with a yelp, his arms trapped you against him, as his face snuggles into your back, “stay,”

Your skin burns at his touch, his face buried into your back, his arms wrapped impossibly around you, “Satoru—”

“Please?” and the resistance you have crumbles, as you sigh, relaxing as best you could into his touch, “thank you, Princess,” he mumbles something else you can’t make out, before falling asleep.

And you bite your lip, ignoring how your skin feels under his touch — how were you ever going to sleep now?

But you do.

Satoru wakes with a slightly pounding head, a small groan caught in the back of his throat, as he stirs at the bright sunlight streaming in, his eyes fluttering awake to find you. His breath catches, as he stares at you. Your mouth slightly ajar, you softly snore as you sleep, your head resting against his arm, and he swallows thickly, as memories of last night trickle in.

And he nearly groans. He had avoided you to stop himself, to hold himself back from embarrassing himself, and he had gone and pulled you into bed with him after getting drunk. How pathetic was it that it only took you referring to him as your husband for all his walls to come crumbling down? Not that those walls ever stood a chance against you — it was easy for him to pull away from everyone, as if he had a barrier around him, stopping anything from coming near. But you — you were one thing that could penetrate his infinity — and the one thing he wanted to be infinite, if only for him.

His cheeks burn at his revelations and he can only be thankful you’re still asleep as he stares at you — god, he had almost let it slip twice last night. He had mumbled it twice, but from what he remembered, you hadn’t made out the words.

His cheeks burned, god he had said the words twice, and you didn’t even hear him, but the words had left his lips. And how many years had he been waiting to say them?

His fingers caress your cheek, making sure you were still asleep before he said them for a third time, “I love you.”

“How many social events must be inflicted upon us?” you mutter, pressed next to Satoru at the bar, as Satoru sips a soda instead of the alcohol they offered — if only to avoid the disaster that was the last time. But still, the lack of alcohol only makes your touch worse without its dulling effects, “and why did we need to go to this?”

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s not so bad,” Satoru smiles, his eyes skimming over your new suit that you had donned for the occasion, “I like seeing you all dressed up,”

“Well I rather be dressed down at home,” and he raises an eyebrow and you flush, “i mean in a t-shirt and shorts, you absolute perv,”

“Whatever you say, princess,” and you’re too busy elbowing him to notice who's walking over, until you hear your name.

You spot Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pursed, as you spot Suguru holding a hand up in greeting, patented grin on his lips, “Yo!”

“Suguru, it’s good to see you,” you greet, as he sweeps you up in a hug, and you shoot a look at Satoru, nudging him to be polite at the very least.

“Satoru, long time no see,” Suguru says, and Satoru plasters a fake smile on his lips.

“It has been,” and the three of you make pleasant small talk about your work — Suguru’s family was in a business adjacent to the work your families did.

“I heard about the merger your companies are doing, how have preparations been?” you open your mouth to answer, but Satoru gets to it first, his arm curling around your waist.

“It’s been going well, our marriage was the first step after all, wasn’t it, baby?” and you flush as Satoru does, doing your best not to glare at him.

“It was,” you smile, as Suguru raises his eyebrows.

“I hadn’t heard you both had married — congratulations,”

And then you’re beckoned by your family, and you slip away for a moment, going to speak to them about one thing or another, leaving Satoru and Suguru alone.

“It’s too bad we lost touch all these years,” Satoru sips at his drink.

“You don’t have to say that, Satoru,” Suguru replies, his grin melting away, “I know part of the reason was the business with our families companies, but I also know that it was personal,” and Satoru follows his eyes to you, as you laugh at something your mother said, “how has married life been treating you both?”

And Satoru glares, his grip tight around his glass, “Is your interest personal?”

“It’s not, but I see that you still haven’t been honest with each other,” he smiles over the lip of his drink, “was this marriage arranged by your families?” and Satoru’s silence was enough to confirm it, “well you should be careful, a marriage is a fragile thing, especially without love,”

“Is that a threat?” and Suguru’s dark irises meet his, full of mirth.

“No, just an observation, Satoru,” and you make your re-appearance, looking between the pair, sensing the tension, as your hand curls around Satoru’s, “It was lovely seeing you both. I hope to see more of you.”

And with that he’s gone, “What was that about?” you ask slowly, and Satoru can’t meet your gaze, only sipping his soda, “Satoru?”

“It’s nothing, princess, don’t worry about it,” and you tilt your head, your brow furrowed.

“That’s it,” you sigh, as you glance between the two of them, Suguru’s gaze still lingering on the two of you, “I know what this is about,” you declare, stepping ever closer to Satoru, your fingers brushing at his shoulder, sending his heart into a gallop.

“Princess—” your hand is sliding up his neck, brushing at his undercut, and your lips curl.

“I didn’t know you had an undercut,” and he can’t form words to respond to you, as you tug him closer, your lips were so close now, “it’s kind of hot,” and his mouth is so dry, his eyes can’t help but flicker down to your lips again, as you lean forward, pulling his head closer, closer, closer—

And you kiss him, it's barely a brush at first, but then you pull him in again, and he can taste the wine on your lips now, as your lips meet, his eyes fluttering shut as his hand slides to cup your face, the other around your waist. And finally you part, small pants leaving your lips, as your fingers toy with the hair resting on the back of his neck, smiling at him, as if you had done this a million times before.

And he wanted to do it a million times more. His fingers trace the length of your jaw, delighting in the shiver you give as he touches you, and wondering what other noises he could pull from you.

“Is he still watching?” you whisper, as you smooth over his collar, and he blinks, his eyes following yours to Suguru, who glances at the two of you before looking away, “think we convinced him?”

And his heart sinks just as high as it had soared, “what?” he murmurs, confused.

“He suspected us, right?” you continue with the phony smile on your lips, the heated lust in your gaze, and your soft touches — and it was all enough to break him.

But he doesn’t. He’s Satoru Gojo — he can’t be allowed to break.

So he gives a smile instead, “Yeah, I think we convinced him.”

He can’t help be quiet on the drive home, and he senses your unease, fidgeting in the seat beside him, your attempts to fill the silence falling on deaf ears, and you eventually stop trying, settling to look out of the window instead, until the two of you pull inside your driveway.

You both head inside, and the door shuts behind you, and he watches you struggle to take off your heels, the buckle not cooperating, as you lift your leg to undo it.

But then he’s kneeling before you, undoing your heels for you, as you stammer, “No, Gojo, you don’t have to—”

But his touch is gentle as he helps you out of your heels, one by one, his fingers brushing against your ankles, and then he rises, and for a split second, you forgot how tall he really was.

“No, I want to, because you’re my wife,” and his fingers brush against your jaw. “And I want your thoughts to be of me when I touch you, and not of someone else,” and he tilts your chin up, thumb dragging against your lips before he kisses you.

It was gentle but insistent — and far, far too fleeting, as he pulls away, “and I’ve told you before — I’m your husband, call me Satoru.”

And with that he’s gone, leaving you speechless and alone in your entryway.

You can’t sleep. For several nights.

You replay the moment over and over, the kiss, his words, and all of it.

What the fuck. Were you really up all night because of Satoru Gojo? You lay on your stomach, kicking your feet in frustration as you bury your hot face in your pillow. Your husband was going to be the death of you.

And especially with tomorrow.

Satoru’s family was hosting an event to announce the merger, and you stood in your bathroom, getting ready. You had opted for a baby blue dress that Satoru had picked for you when he had insisted on taking you shopping. He had winked and said you could wear his gaze this way. And you had only rolled your eyes at the time, but now it felt you could feel his eyes upon you.

“You look beautiful,” and you whirl around to find him standing in your doorway, a small smile on your lips, and you flush. It doesn’t go unnoticed, “is that all it takes to embarrass you now, Princess? I used to have to work a lot harder,”

You glare at him, “Shut up,” and your eyes flick to his untied tie, and it’s unspoken, as you walk over to tie his tie for him, “how did you even tie this the day of the formal if you don’t know how to?”

“I didn’t wear one,” he shrugs, his attention making you mess up the knot twice, “I only went to make you jealous anyway,”

Your fingers pause, as your eyes meet, “What?”

“I don’t want to play games anymore, Princess,” the back of his fingers brush against your cheek, “or at least, if I’m going to play, I’m going to play to win,” and you continue tying his tie, if only to distract yourself from your stomach doing flips, “do you know how it feels to want someone for so long only to end up married, but it’s not either of your choice?” And you swallow, not daring to look at him, “because I do.”

“Satoru,” your hands are shaking now, “I-“

“I don’t expect an answer, I don’t expect anything to change,” he adjusts his tie as you finish, turning his collar down, his blue button up matching your dress perfectly, “but I wanted you to know where I stood, and know wherever you are,” his gaze rakes over your form, the same color as the dress than clung to your skin, “I’ll always be here for you,”

“Satoru—“ but he gets a call — as always with impeccable timing, his parents were asking when they would be arriving. He hangs up shortly after, offering his arm with a smile.

“Shall we?” And you take his arm, ignoring the flip your heart does when his arm curls around yours.

The drive over is uneventful, but not the same can be said for the event itself. The merger event was being held at Satoru’s childhood home — the home Satoru had grown up in and around — and never wanted to be at.

“Are you okay?” you ask, your arm still curled around Satoru’s arm, as you glance at him, his shoulders tense and lips tight, before your concern makes the tension melt away a moment, rolling off his shoulders like snow on a spring day.

“I’m fine,” and you’re unconvinced, “just this place is like time has stood still,” he chuckles, his eyes finding the place where the two of you had cracked the chandelier fucking around with a ball inside, “look, still there,”

You snort, “I’m surprised your mother never noticed,”

“She did, she gave me hell for it,” he sips his drink, “I just didn’t tell you,”

“Why?”

“There was a lot I didn’t tell you,” his eyes snap to yours, his pain almost too visceral as he glances around the room he had grown up in — and you could feel him in this room, the ghost of his past roaming the halls, “why do you think I spent so much time at your house?”

“Because of my incredible company?” you half-joke, lips forced into a small smile, but he laughs, rolling his eyes.

“That too,” he hums, his fingers tracing up and down against your wrist sending a wave of heat down your spine.

“Well, you always have an escape now, don’t you?” you intertwine your fingers, “our home is always graced with the presence of your wife,”

He grins, the first actual smile you had seen all evening, “How lucky for you that it’s also graced with the presence of your incredibly handsome husband,”

And you open your mouth to respond, before Satoru’s father interrupts, his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, making him stiffen, “Son,” and his icy blue eyes slide to you, “and my daughter, would you mind if I steal my son for a moment?” it always struck you how different his eyes were from Satoru — the coldness as opposed to the warmth.

You glance at Satoru, and he gives a slight nod, “No, of course not,” you step away, as he pulls Satoru into a side room, and you linger nearby for him, mingling as best you can, when Satoru emerges, eyes downcast and fists clenched, “Satoru-“

“I’m okay,” he plasters on an easy smile, “it’s fine—“

“We’re leaving,” you grab his hand, “let’s go,” and he’s staring at you, as you drag him from the party, wordless.

“But your parents, my parents—”

“Have done enough for us already,” you say, and the two of you walk to the car in silence, “I can drive—”

“It’s ok, I got it,” and you both shut the doors, as he begins to drive. The ride home is quiet, and you glance at him here and there, but you hold your tongue, “you’re not going to ask?”

“It’s your dad - do I need to ask?” You scoff, “It may has been years but I know he’s nothing but a bully — especially to you,”

You may have been young, but you remembered the phone calls Satoru would get, the lectures about his potential and responsibilities as the next heir, the scoldings he’d get for anything less than perfect. And you remembered the look he had the next day — the same one he had when he had come out of that room.

And you couldn’t protect him then, but you could do it now.

He sighs as he pulls the car into the driveway, “You don’t deserve that, Toru,”

“Then what do I deserve?” And he meets your gaze with glassy eyes, and you give a small smile, your fingers reaching for him, brushing along his jaw.

“Love,” and you lean across the gap of the console, across the line you had drawn, across the misunderstandings you had, and you chose him. Your fingers cup his cheek, drawing him close, as you hear his breathe hitch, “can I—”

“You don’t need to ask me even once, Princess,” and you kiss him, your lips grazing his again and again, until your lips finally slide against each other, deepening it as he presses himself against you, hand bearing against the armrest between the two of you. And you can taste the sweet taste of the strawberry dessert that he all but inhaled at the party, the hint of the soda he drank instead of wine, and something that tasted utterly and perfectly of him.

“Toru,” you murmur, but his lips keep finding yours, and you can’t breathe much less think, “I—”

He silences you with another kiss, his fingers finding purchase on the back of your neck as he tugs you impossibly closer, before his lips are tracing a path down your jaw.

“What was that, sweetheart?” he smiles against your skin, “you what?”

“You’re insufferable, you’re endlessly frustrating, and I swear I want to murder you at least twice a day,” and he smiles, as you gasp as his teeth graze your pulse, “but you’re also my best friend, and I—“ you make him meet your eyes, fingers cupping his chin, ocean blue eyes drowning you with their gaze, “I love you,”

And he blinks ever so slowly, before his lips curl into the most beautiful smile you had seen, before he’s kissing you again, as you gasp, “Toru—”

“I’m never going to stop now, Princess,” he grins endlessly, as he presses his forehead to yours, dragging a thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “waited too long for you, but I’d wait a million years to do that again,”

“So should I make you wait?” you tease, and he’s looking like a kicked puppy, pouting and wide eyed, before he’s pressing butterfly kisses to your face, and you’re laughing, “I’m just kidding, baby—”

And he pauses, “‘Baby?’” and his grin is a million watt, as he kisses you again, “never thought I’d see the day you’d call me a pet name,”

Your noses brush as you both laugh, “Well, you are a big baby,” and he pouts again, and you kiss them, “but you’re my baby,”

And you barely remember how you manage to stumble into your home. Frantic touches and hurried kisses and fumbling keys. As soon as the door slams shut, he has you pressed against it, fingers busy with undoing your buttons, as he grins against your mouth.

“Know how long I wanted you? How long I dreamt of this?” he bites your bottom lip, “had to call you my wife before i could call you mine — thought about you dating Suguru, about all the times I wanted to lean over during our movie nights as kids and just kiss you — and how much I regretted it,”

“So you admit you’ve been pining for me,” you gasp as his teeth drag against your neck now, biting and sucking, as your fingers thread through his white locks, “Satoru,” you moan, biting your lip.

“Judging by that moan, I’m not the only one,” he smiles cheekily, his hands sliding down your back to rest at the back of your thighs, large palms and thick fingers pressing through the all too thin tulle of your dress, “can’t wait to see how fuckin’ wet you are for me, Princess.”

You gasp at his vulgar words, a rush of heat that leaves your legs shaking under his touch, “Now whose mind is the gutter?” You tease, your fingers tugging at his tie, unfurling the knot.

“Always has been when it’s come to you, want to make this perfect princess filthy,” he coos, and he’s pulling you up against the door, your hands wrapped around his neck, “wanna make my beautiful little wife scream my name, don’t I?”

“Toru—“ you gasp as his teeth graze along your chest, tugging the neckline of your dress impossibly low, “you’re going to rip it—“ and he does, pulling the fabric apart with ease, “what the fu—“ and he’s swallowing your swears with his tongue.

“I’ll buy you another,” he grins, “in fact I’ll buy you any amount you want, as long as you keep letting me do this,”

And he’s peeling the dress off of you, dress falling to the floor in a shamble of tulle, and your skin flushes at the air hitting your bare skin, and shivers at the feeling of his sharp breath against your neck.

“How are you so fucking perfect?” he sighs, burying his face in the nape of your neck, pressing butterfly kisses down your collarbone, “I should get an award for patience — not being able to touch you, to kiss you, but living with you?”

His fingers are skimming down your underwear now, snapping the waistband against your skin, you gasp, “Fuck, Toru,” you whimper, “thought you’d talk less during this,” your fingers are undoing his shirt now.

“Oh I can think of a few things that could shut me up,” his lips curl deviously, and you’re slipping his shirt off his shoulders, your lips pressing to his collarbone.

“I don’t think you’d even shut up from that,” as he shivers when your teeth graze his soft skin, “I think you’ll only whine more,”

And his gaze is hot as his eyes meet yours again, as he grasps at your thighs and picks you up, “let’s see who’s the one whining at the end of this,” you squeal, grasping into his shoulders, as he carries you into his bedroom, as he settles you down on his bed. His eyes raking over you, panting and disheveled, he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, “can’t believe you’re all mine, Princess,”

“Satoru,” you’re reaching for him, but he pins your hand to the bed, “wha—“

“Patience, baby,” he purrs, as he presses his lips to your wrist, “let me enjoy you,”

He’s so pretty it’s unfair - the way his breath hits your skin steals yours, pretty pink lips parted as he runs his tongue over them, the same ache between your legs longing for that tongue between them. But it leaves you with so little of the patience he asks you to have — especially after over a decade of this in the making.

And your impatience is evident, you suppose, by the pout on your lips, and he laughs, “Want a kiss, baby?”

You don’t have the time to say you want much more than a kiss, as he humors you with a kiss, lips teasing you with their sweet taste, and you don’t fail to notice his smile as you lean up into his touch. And suddenly his hands brush down your bare sides, squeezing your hips, and you’re gasping, “Feel good, Princess? We’ve barely started—“

“You keep teasing me and I’ll make you regret it,” you grumble, between breathless kisses, the bite of your words dampened by the soft pants that leave your lips, “Toru, I swear—“

And his thumb presses against the wet patch on your underwear, flimsy layer of soaked fabric barely doing a thing to hide your arousal, “Not acting like a good little girl for me,” he tuts, as you keen against his touch, gasping as you throw your head back as he grinds his fingers against your puffy clit, “all it took was one touch to have you so pliant, huh? Should’ve done this a long time ago,”

“Stop,” you whine, and his grin only grows larger with such self satisfaction, you don’t know if your lust addled brain wants you to strangle his neck or his cock, “please, just—“

“Just what?” And his fingers are breaching past your underwear, just barely touching the outer lips of your cunt, “come on, Princess, use your big girl words, or are you already fucked stupid before I’ve barely touched you?”

“Motherfuck—“

“I will be one once I get my needy little wife pregnant, won’t I?” And his long fingers finally tug down your underwear — the wet schlick of the sticky fabric hitting the floor make him drag his teeth over those beautiful lips, “but we got plenty of time for that, after all,” his fingers tease the outer lips of your throbbing pussy, “practice makes perfect,”

And he sinks a long finger knuckle deep — and a whine crawls its way out of your throat, his fingers were thicker than yours were — and so much better. His thumb teases your clit in tight circles as he begins to tease your walls, reaching deep, deep, deeper, your slick starting to drip onto his palm, “God, you’re soaking me, Princess,” and your hips can’t resist the urge to grind against his touch, “oh, and where’s that mouth now?” you can barely see much less talk, words failing as he begins to stretch you out - his other large palm rested against your thigh, keeping your legs nice and spread for him.

He’s grinning, he sinks another finger into you, teasing your walls apart, beginning to finger fuck you in earnest, “my mouthy girl just needed to be fucked right? Didn’t she?” And all you can hear are the filthy sounds of your cunt, as his fingers piston in and out, “nothing to say, Princess?” And he spanks your pussy, making you yelp, a whine leaving your throat, “and you thought I’d be whiny, look at you now, baby,” his fingers cup your chin to force your glassy eyes to meet his darkened blues, “such a good fucked out wife for me,”

And a third finger joining right as he brushed against a spot that had you seeing stars as his thumb bullied your clit, eyes rolling back as he did, and he’s grinning, “my perfect princess and her perfect little pussy,”

You came with his name on your lips, panting and shaking as he held you steady, his fingers dripping with your release, as he pulled away, watching your cunt twitch around nothing, aching for his fingers.

You're coming down from your high, chest rising and falling, as you watch him gather your release on his fingers, toying with your cunt, before he sucks them clean, “Fuck,” you whimper, as he licks and cleans himself of your cum, “Toru-“

“Fuck, baby, how’ve I resisted tasting you for so long?” And he’s bending down as he noses your thighs, making your hips jolt, still sensitive from your orgasm as he deeply inhaled, tip of his tongue darting out to lick your release from your thighs, “smell as sweet as you taste,” he hums, your legs trying to close, but his palms keep them spread, “can’t keep a man from his vices, can we baby?”

And his tongue teases your cum that pooled from your orgasm, the tip hot and wet as it tastes it, “tastes when better coming from this filthy princess cunt,” he grins against your thigh, teeth grazing your skin, making you lurch.

“T-Toru, please,” fuck you hated how needy you sounded, but you needed more — but he’s leaning away, pressing his cheek against the soft plush of your thigh.

“Need you to do something me first, sweetheart,” and his fingers are drawing teasing infinities on your thighs, “tell me how much you want me,”

“Fuck you,” you groan, “I know what you’re gonna say,” you add, cutting off his snappy retort of “I’m trying to,” “I want you, Satoru, please, I’ve wanted this for too long,” and your voice grows more teasing, “how long is my husband going to keep me waiting?”

And his eyes darken, the slight flush on his cheeks growing deeper, as his mouth presses a wet kiss to your sopping pussy, “good girl, think you deserve a reward,” and he’s manhandling your thighs, spreading them wide, as he buries his face in your cunt, “such a good little wife deserves to be eaten out,”

And eating is exactly what he does - you had only seen Satoru eat sweets with the same voracity he devoured you, pressing his thick fingers into your thighs as he splayed you out as his mouth pressed wet kisses to your dripping lips. His hot tongue drags up the length of your cunt, “best fucking thing I’ll ever taste, know what my last meal will be,” he’s murmuring against you, making you twitch, as he looks up at you with half lidded eyes and saliva and slick covered lips, “awww my pretty pussy begging to be filled? Well I can do that for you, baby,” and he’s burying his tongue in your messy hole.

The moan that leaves your lips leaves his cock harder and hurting, he didn’t know you could make such a lewd noise, and he couldn’t wait to make you make it again and again. He’s making out with your pussy at this mouth, your hips doing their best to grind against him, desperate for more, more, more.

And your fingers find his shoulders first, before sliding up to his hair, pressing him further against you, “you’re so fucking cute,” he murmurs, as he spreads your folds with his thumbs before tongue fucking you. His tongue teases and abuses your walls, deeper and deeper, before he pulls back to flick his tongue over your clit, making you moan even louder, “neighbors are gonna hear you at this rate, baby,” but he only sucks at your clit, harshly, “oh well, they know we’re newlyweds,” he’s humming as his ears hear your broken whines and pants, body tensed up against his.

And you’re so wet now, your slick drips down his jaw, mixed with his spit, “you’re all mine now, baby, can’t live without tasting you now—“ and he groans when your hips buck into his mouth again, feeling your walls twitch, “I know you’re close, Princess, tell me how good it feels,”

“S’good, Toru, I can’t—“ you’re pulling at his soft white locks now, making him grunt, and you fall apart, back arching as you cum as all you can hear are the squelching sounds of his tongue and mouth as he continues to eat you out through your orgasm.

And you’re twitching under him as he sucks up every bit of your cum, “so fucking good for me,” he’s finally pulling himself from your messy pussy, “can’t wait to feel you around me, should’ve known you have a little princess cunt,”

And he’s licking his lips and chin clean, as you watch him with half lidded eyes, still panting, as your eyes skim down his body, his jacket had been thrown aside at some point, but his now wrinkled shirt is only messily untucked from his dress pants, and disheveled was too good of a look on him, but you rather see those clothes on the floor of your bedroom, “you’re still annoyingly dressed,” you manage between breaths, still aching from his ministrations, “strip,”

He’s raising an eyebrow, a wicked grin on his lips, “So demanding for someone who was moaning my name a second ago,” but you pull yourself up, supporting yourself on a shaky arm while you use the other to tug on his tie, smashing his lips to yours.

You unfurl the very tie you tied, fingers flying to unbutton his shirt, “Made me feel so good, baby,” and now you were kneeling in front of him, your release slipping down your thighs, as you slipped his shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside, heated eyes raking over his bare chest, tongue running over your lips, “only fair if I repay the favor,”

You’re undoing his belt for him, pulling it free from the loops, as your hand grazes his noticeable bulge in his suit pants, “surprised you haven’t ripped through,” you squeeze lightly, making his hips jerk, as he pouts all too cutely — and now you knew why he always teased you, “didn’t you tell me to have patience, love?”

“Your husband is running low on that at the moment, never been one to be patient, sweetheart,” he’s gritting his teeth, as you slip his pants off leaving him only in boxers.

Your eyes are glued to his erection, visible through the damp front of his boxers, wet with his precum, “so fuckin’ big, even better than I thought,” you say almost with reverence, and his lip quivers at the praise, a quiet groan leaving his throat. You raise an eyebrow, “like to be praised, baby boy?”

And he swallows, adam's apple bobbing, sweat on his forehead from his treatment of you, but a red flush deepens on his skin, “Princess,” it’s half a warning and half a plea—and morphs into a whimper as your fingers tease the head of his cock through his boxers, rubbing his precum into the fabric, “f-fuck, s’good with those hands, sweetheart,”

“Imagine how much better it’d be with your boxers out of the way,” you say leaning down and licking at the tip through the sticky fabric, as his head falls back with a soft moan, “can’t wait to feel this between my legs,” as you kiss the clothed tip, two fingers slipping in only to snap the waistband of the boxers against his skin, and he’s biting back a moan, a pout on his kiss ruined lips, “god, you’re so pretty,”

Another noise in the back of his throat, “Fuck, Princess,” he hissed, as you finally spare him, pulling his boxers off, his erection slapping against his too fucking incredible abs — how was he so unfairly perfect? He was so gorgeous — more long than girthy, but he was so thick still, and flushed red with pearly pre-cum at the tip. Each vein and curve felt as if he was made for you.

“All this for me, baby?” You tease, as his mouth opens and then closes as your fingers tease the head of his cock, a sharp inhale that keeps echoing in your ears, “all turned on from eating me out, huh?” You move close, nearly straddling him, but you don’t let your cunt brush against his cock — not yet.

And his dick twitches in your hand, “Sweetheart,” he whimpers, eyes nearly glassy with need, “such a fucking tease,”

And your lips curl, “Match made in heaven, baby,” you rub your thumb against his flushed tip, spreading the pre-cum along his shaft, “can’t wait to taste you, wonder if you taste as sweet as what you eat,” licking your lips, and he’s biting his lip, “tell me what you want, Toru,”

“Y’know what I want, Princess,” he’s panting as you lean forward to kiss him, lips sliding against his, just as your palm starts to stroke him, his moan is nearly pornographic, words spilling from his mouth, “want your pretty pussy around my cock, sweetheart, plesse,”

“Not so fast, baby,” you hum, your other hand moving to tease his balls, achingly full, judging by the gasp that left his throat, “wanna take my time with you, like you did with me, right?” And he breaks your kiss with a whine, “you feel so good in my hands, Toru, been thinking about this cock for too long,” and he’s grunting, lips parted as he pants, burying his face in your shoulder.

“How good?” he mumbles, and you’re grinning even wider — the great Satoru Gojo fell to pieces with only your touch and some praise, his face beautifully flushed as you tug him by the back of his hair, thumb running over his undercut as you do.

“So good that I wanna make you fall apart over and over until my name is the only thing on your lips,” you squeeze the base of his dick, making his hips jump, “gonna be a good boy for me and let me do it?”

And he’s nodding, utterly fucked out even before you’ve even started. And you guide him to the end of the bed, as you get on your knees for him, his gaze darkening as he watches you lean down to press your lips to the tip of his weeping erection, making him groan your name. And you trace his slit with the tip of your tongue, tasting his salty release, “How long you gonna tease me baby? I’m being so good for you,” he’s whining, his baby blues fluttering with lust as he looks down at you, choking as he sees how his precum paints your lips, “please, fuck, just—“

And you finally guide his cock into your mouth, and he’s jerking at the sensation and groaning as he watches your pretty little mouth take his length — those same smart lips that always had a reply for everything, the ones he’d jerked off to the thought of this very situation — you on your knees for him, the ones he’d wanted around him for so long — it was too much.

He almost blew his load all too fast, your warm mouth all too accommodating to his cock, as your wet walls and tongue swirl around him, tasting and sucking, your fingers grasping his thighs. And you bob up and down his length, the weight of his cock making the ache between your legs worse, and your eyes flicker up, and moan as you watch him.

He’s so fucking gorgeous — panting and so fucked out, as his lips part for you, your name leaving his kissed red lips, teeth baring down on his bottom lip, “Fuck, my little wife is so pretty on her knees,” as his hands settle on your head, watching you sink your mouth down on his cock, pleasure running up his spine, as his thick fingers dig into your scalp, “so nasty, baby, fuuuuck, gonna fuck your throat at this rate,” he groans, “how’d you get so good at this baby? Don’t answer that,” he adds, a growl in his words, and you almost giggle around his dick.

“Learned so I could blow you, husband, after all, this mouth is yours,” you grin, and his lips curl too and then they part as he grunts, as you press teasing kisses along his length before sliding it back into your mouth, beginning to let the tip hit the back of your throat. You gag on him, making him moan, as he helps you deepthroat him, his hips thrusting against you lightly, his white pubes brushing against your face.

And he’s moaning even louder, as he watches you, drool slipping down your chin as he fucks your mouth, tongue massaging him as he did, “Made just to fuck me, huh? Want my load that bad, Princess?” And his words have your eyes rolling back as he’s moving against you, his cock twitching telling you that he’s close, “shiiit, fuck, my wife’s a slut for me, gonna swallow my cum baby?”

“Only for you,” you pull away a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to his dick, smiling, before you slip him back into your too eager mouth, and you hollow your cheeks, the lewd noises of your tongue and mouth sending him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, baby, can I cum in—“ and you make his tip brush your throat again as you suck, looking at him with half lidded, dilated eyes. And he spills into your mouth, hot cum down your throat, as he holds your head gently in place, “shit Princess,” his hips jumping at the sight of you, cum and spit slipping from the corner of your mouth as you pull his cock from you, “s’good for me,”

He’s still panting, as you climb into his lap properly, his cock sliding against your cunt, making his face twist in pleasure, as you lick your mouth clean of him, wiping your chin, “Taste so good, Toru,” you hum, his eyes half lidded with pleasure, chest still heaving, as he leans back on shaky arms, “you may be my favorite meal, but I think I rather,” you grind on his lap teasingly dragging his tip against your messy cunt, “have you cum inside me,”

And he gives a delicious gasp, “baby, too sensitive,” but you’re tilting his chin back as you meet his lips, both of you moaning as you taste yourselves on the other’s lips, “you’re gonna be the death of me, Princess,” he’s chuckling, as he starts to grab your thighs, putting you properly into his lap, “you gonna ride me like a good little princess? Fuck yourself on my cock?”

How does he have the upper hand when you’re the one on top?

As you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, and he’s sliding your body back and forth, his cock slapping and sliding against your wrecked cunt, so close to sinking in. His hand bears down on your ass, slapping it, before his fingers squeeze it, making you jump against him, your chest brushing against his, “you like that huh?” he’s grinning, as he kisses you again, his lips sliding against you, swallowing your moans eagerly, “what do you want, baby? Remember to say please,” he adds, and you want to roll your eyes, but his fingers rub your clit, and any protest you had fled your mind.

“Please,” and you’re using your fingers to part yourself above him, making his eyes roll back, as you grasp his cock, teasing your dripping cunt with the head of his dick, “fuck me,”

And you sink onto him, inch by inch, as your head looks back, your walls squeezing as he parted your folds, “You’re drenching me, sweetheart, fucking perfect princess cunt is gonna wring me dry,” he grunts, as his fingers splay over your hips, grasping but not pushing, letting you go at your pace, “s’good, might just have to fill you up, again and again,” and your pussy twitches at that thought drawing a laugh from him lips, “you want that? My wife wants to be full of my cum,” he’s groaning when you finally fit all of his cock in you, cunt clamping down on him, “trying to break my cock? Don’t have to go that far to keep me, I’m living in this sweet cunt from now on,”

You’re a mess — whining and moaning, your chest bouncing as you begin to move against him, “Toru, so full, s’good,” his own hips jumping against yours, a low growl in his throat, as his hands begin to guide your hips, snapping his own hips as he fucks you onto his own cock, reaching new depths, as your eyes squeeze shut, “fuckfuckfuuuck, Toru,” you’re babbling and moaning his name, again and again — and he just needs more.

And he’s spanking you, hands coming down on your ass, as he grunts, your warm walls twitching and squeezing him, brushing against sweet spots that have both of you groaning, “such a fucking good girl, taking my cock — I know you can take more, baby, my perfect wife,” and he’s capturing your nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing it before he sucks, his hips growing even faster, until his cock finds your special spot.

“Toru, g’nna cum, I—“ And your orgasm hits you, head thrown back as your lips part in a silent scream, toes curling as you wrap your legs around his waist, and he’s fucking you right through — fucking relentless, almost limitless, with his pace, groaning as he watches his the base of his cock covered in your release, a pool of white that almost has him cumming then and there.

“S’ fuckinh pretty, Princess, and all mine,” he says, as you moan, as he slows his pace, your face buried in his shoulder, as you come down from your high, and he’s tilting your head.

But he isn’t done yet.

In a moment, he’s pulling his cock out — a whine parting your mouth — as he manhandles you so that you’re flat on your back, your ankles thrown over his shoulders, and spread wide for him. You’re the picture of filth — lips in a kiss ruined pout, chest rising and falling as you gaze up at him with needy eyes, and your perfect cunt leaking and drenched for him — he could see everything — all of you, the way your cum slid down your hole, the way it clenched around nothing, the pretty pink insides he was desperate to make his.

He licks his lips, “soaking my lap and sheets with your cum, baby, such a dirty girl,” and he’s spreading your lips, letting your release trickle out.

“Satoru,” you whine as he runs a finger over your still twitching pussy, as if begging for his cock back, “please, too sensitive,”

“Please what, sweetheart? Because your cunt seems to disagree,” his chuckle is a deep noise that reverberates through his chest as he leans down to press your lips to yours in a languid kiss, “such a nerdy princess, imagine how’d your family would feel — seeing you beg for my cock, huh? Not the chaste little princess anymore? Nah, you’re my filthy baby,” and you’re whimpering, “tell me baby, I know you’re not nearly fucked dumb yet, you’re too smart for that,” he coos, a grin on his lips as he stares with that damn crystalline gaze.

And finally he’s sinking into you again, cock sliding back into your soaked cunt, “God, I love you,” he murmurs, as he’s somehow deeper inside you, pussy pressed against all of him, “so fucking perfect, baby, better than I imagined,” he’s pussydrunk now as he rails into you, and you’re grasping at him, the only sound in your ears is the squelch of him as he filled you again and again as his chest presses against yours, fucking you long and hard, “you’re all mine now, baby. My wife, my body, my love, my soul — all of it,” he growls his last words, grunting as his hips begin to stutter as he kisses your sweet spot again and again, “you want me to cum in this sweet princess pussy, baby? Wanna make me a daddy?”

Your cunt twitches at that, and he laughs, “did you just get wetter, baby? Didn’t think you could do that,”

But you’re only moaning, you’re so fuckin’ close but you want him to cum with you - wanna feel him sink into as he does. And so you’re meeting his lips in a searing kiss, his hips thrusting harder and longer, “give me your baby, Toru, breed me,” you whisper, words slurring as you pant and stutter, all sense had left your mind - and all you wanted was him.

“Fuck, Princess,” he’s grunting as he pistons in and out of you, bed groaning under his thrusts, until your walls clamp down again and again on him as you cum, throbbing and needy as you moan his name, back arching, “g’nna cum,”

And he does, his cock hitting the deepest part of you as he does, his warm seed filling you up, as his hips continue to fuck it deeper into you, making you whimper, as he just keeps on cumming ropes, “oh, f-fuck, Princess,” he rasps as he kisses you, sloppy and wet, as he pants, watching your face come down him your high, eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him, “so beautiful,” he murmurs, as he rubs his thumb down your lips.

He pulls out slowly, groaning as he watches your mixed releases leak out of you, dragging the tip of his weeping erection down your cunt, a whine leaving your throat again, “So fucking filthy, baby,” he hums, a shiteating grin on his lips, as he collects his cum on his fingers, and pushes it back inside of you, as you jump, a small pout on your lips making him laugh, “gotta make good on my promise, baby,” and he’s kissing you silly again, “gotta get you pregnant and full for me,”

His body is sticky with sweat, as he eases your aching legs down, as he kisses up your body, nosing your neck, “So perfect for me, Princess, I love you,” he says so earnestly that it makes you melt, as you pull him into a kiss, “suppose we consummated our marriage now, does this mean we get to have a honeymoon now?” he’s grinning, as you roll your eyes, “come on, don’t you want to travel?”

And you laugh, “I don’t think we would even leave the hotel room if you had your way,” and he’s pressing his thumb against your bottom lip and dragging down, before kissing you, sliding his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” And your breath catches a moment, before you sigh, and he grins again, “so?”

You roll over to grab your phone, kissing his lips, pulling up possible destinations, “where are we going?”

“Satoru, we’re at the office, uhmph—“ Satoru’s kissing you even before the elevator doors shut, and you can’t help but not care if anyone saw either of you making out, his talented tongue stealing your logic from under you, before he’s pulling away, your lipstick nearly smeared all over his face. You bite back a laugh, before using your thumb to wipe away the evidence of your kiss, “we’ve been here less than a minute, and you’re already making a mess,”

And his lips catch your thumb between them, kissing it sweetly, “What do I do better than make a mess of you, princess?” and he’s pressing sweet kisses to your fingertips, before you’re pulling him back for another kiss, right before you hear the elevator ding, and you scramble apart.

Your cheeks flushed, as you stepped onto the floor of the newly merged company that was formerly your families’ individual companies, now united as one — just as you and Satoru were now — which was why he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you. The two of you had come into the office to finalize the transition for your staff, each of you dealing with formalities on either side, but Satoru did little to help your focus on the process with his blatant stares and sneaky touches.

Twice already he had pulled you into his office, only to have you either pressed against his door, or bent over his desk. And god, you sat in your office, biting your lip as you thought about paying him another visit — and fuck, this is what he wanted.

You pull your phone out and text him: You suck.

And his reply is instant. If I recall from last night, you’re the one who sucks ;)

You’ve left me high and dry, Satoru, and I shouldn’t be thinking about fucking you in the office. Especially with both of our parents around in meetings all day.

He replies, Nah, that’s exactly why you should be thinking about it.

And then another text.

Imagine our parents walking in while you’re under my desk doing what you do best, you’d be quiet for me, Princess? Wouldn’t let us get caught when I fuck your pretty mouth?

You’re biting your lip — Fucker, I hate you.

Nah, you love me, a little too much, Princess. Another text — especially the way you were moaning my name last night.

And there’s a knock at your door in that moment — “Come in,” you intone, and you were ninety-nine percent sure that was Satoru — ready to make good on his promise — and then white hair visible as the door swings open, “Father,”

It was a Gojo, but not the one you expected — your father in law, instead of his son.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, lips curling in a smile that was all too the same as his son — but missing the same charm, the distinct softness that made you adore Satoru was not present in his father — nor was his father very present at all — except to chastise his son on how he thought his son should live his life.

And he was interrupting — interrupting you about to sext his son and your husband from the confines of your office, but you only offered a smile, “Not at all, can I help you with something, Father?”

He’s shutting the door behind him, before taking a seat across from you, “I just wanted to have a chat with you — it’s been so long since we’ve been able to see the two of you — we still haven’t had you over since you’ve returned from your honeymoon,”

“It’s been very busy,” and it had been, but not too busy to see Satoru’s family. Since the launch party, you and Satoru had agreed to steer clear of his father for some time, until Satoru could develop some more healthy boundaries with him. And so you could get through a conversation without strangling him (although Satoru wasn’t opposed to seeing that), “with the merger and Satoru and I trying to spend time to get know each other again,”

“Of course,” but his smile told you he was unconvinced, “I wanted to talk to you about something important, I’ve seen how close you and Satoru have gotten since the engagement and the wedding, and I was happy to see you pushing him in the right direction,”

“”Pushing him?’” you repeat, raising an eyebrow.

“With the merger, I haven’t seen him so focused, so determined, and I knew my suggestion to my wife to have you marry him was the right choice,” and you stare at him, mouth agape, as anger slowly melts from your stomach into every vein of his body, fingers curling into fists.

“Excuse me?”

He leans back in his chair, “When the idea of the merger was floated by me, I knew I wanted a condition to be your marriage to Satoru,” his eyes glance over the things on your desk — the stacked folders, the paperwork, and the pictures of your family and of Satoru, “you’re driven, you’re focused, you’re perfect — I knew you could change him, and I was right,” his lips curl, and you can’t hold your tongue anymore.

“Maybe what your son needed was someone to support him,” your words are even, but your body is tense, “he needed someone not to scold him, to put him down, to whisper doubts in his ear when he needed help,” you rise from your chair slowly, “I respect you as my father-in-law and as my family’s old friend and co-owner of this company, but,” you glare at him, “no one insults my husband’s capabilities, and makes me takes credit for his achievements,”

The old man’s teeth grit, and he opens to respond, when there’s a curt knock at the door, and Satoru enters, “Old man, how about you go chat with the other old farts in the room? Pretty sure you’re bleeding investors by the second the longer you talk with my wife,” he slides a small smile to you that tells you he heard everything.

Satoru’s father shoots a glare at both of you, before leaving the room in a huff, door shutting behind him, and you sigh, rubbing your temples, “I’m sorry if I made things worse—”

And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms snaking around your waist and pulling you against him, “Thank you, Princess,” he murmurs into your ear, making you tense, “oh you like that, huh?” and you roll your eyes, laughing.

“Even in a moment like this, huh?” you lean up and whisper in his ear, “I don’t just like it, I love it,” and it’s his turn to shiver, his cheeks burning, “you’re so cute,” you grin, before leaning up and kissing him. He melts into the kiss, his fingers cupping your cheek to deepen the kiss, pulling your waist against his, and you feel his arousal pressed against your thigh.

You pull away, tilting your head, you snort, “Already?”

And he bites his lip, “Take some responsibility, baby, it’s your fault,” and he leans down and grazes your ear with his teeth, “not my fault my hot wife defended my honor and then decided to whisper sweet nothings in my ear,”

You hum, guiding his lips to yours, your teeth graze over his bottom lip, “And how should I take responsibility, baby?” and he shudders, crystalline eyes glazed over with lust, “we’re in the office, not very professional,” his fingers unbutton your blouse, so he can lean down and kiss your collarbone.

“I was never very professional to begin with,” he smirks, his teeth grazing over the soft skin, sucking and biting, making you gasp, “don’t be so loud, someone will hear us, what will they think?” he murmurs, with a grin against your skin, as he continues to undo your blouse, as he turns you around so your back is against your chest, he tilts your head to look at your door, “look it’s unlocked, anyone could walk in,” and his fingers sneak down the front of your skirt, fingers teasing your panties, “fuuuck, princess, you’re soaked through — are you more turned on by the idea of getting caught?” and you whimper, only making him grin wickedly against your neck, “my filthy girl, imagine your father walking in, seeing your husband’s fingers down your skirt, legs spread wide like a slut,”

“Satoru,” you’re biting your lip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised it would bleed, your knees buckling, as his fingers part your dripping folds, “we can’t—”

“We can,” he shushes you, guiding your lips to his, fingers cupping your throat, but he leans back to get confirmation that you were okay, and you lean in again to kiss him, “such a good girl,” You whimper, and he laughs, “gotta break in the new office don’t we?”

And his fingers slip your panties aside, two fingers parting your folds, and you gasp, as he stuffs two fingers into your mouth as well, “Not so loud, Princess, can’t give the office gossip mill something really juicy, now can we?” And his digits start to really fuck you, in and out, the wet squelch ringing in your ears, as his fingers bully and stretch your walls, until they find what they are looking for — your g-spot.

You fall apart, but it’s gushing all over his hand, soaking his hand, as your hand grasps at the fingers in his mouth trying to stifle your noises, “Fuck, Princess, did you just squirt for me?” He’s grinning, “such a sloppy little Princess, look you’re staining the carpet with your cum,” he guides your head to look, seeing the spot on the carpet, as you lean against him, “gotta do this again,”

He kisses you as you moan. Tangled limbs and eager touches, as you guide him over to the desk, as you settle him into the chair, lips still parting as your tongue slips in, “Your turn,” and before he can even react, you’re slipping down to your knees, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, slipping his aching dick out, nearly slapping your face with it, you drag it along your lips, “Like you said, I’m the one who sucks right?” you wink, before you finally lick the length of his cock, tracing the veins to the slit, “you always taste so good, Toru,” and he’s hissing now.

“Fuck, baby, you always so pretty on your knees for me,” and you have to disagree — he’s the one who looks pretty — shirt disheveled, chest rising and falling far too fast, as he looked down at you with his snowy white eyelashes half lidded with a lust ridden gaze — “your pretty mouth is s’fucking perfect, can’t wait to cum down that lovely throat,” he hisses, as his fingers dig into your scalp, urging his cock deeper, his tip brushing against your throat, making you gag.

He opens his mouth to apologize, but you only shake your head, as you do it again, making his hips buck against you, tip hitting your throat again, his composure quickly falling to shreds, as he’s fucking your throat now, biting his lip so hard to keep his groans in, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was bleeding afterwards.

“I-I’m close,” he’s gritting his teeth, but you only redouble your efforts, “so fuckin’ perfect, made to suck this dick—”

And that’s when there’s a knock on the door, making you both freeze. You panic silently — before Satoru is shepherding you under your desk, while he adjusts himself, scooting your chair in more, so his weeping cock is hidden along with you.

“Come in,” Satoru says, as even toned as someone who was just fucking their wife’s throat can manage, “Dad—what a nice surprise,”

And you cover your mouth — fuck it was your dad — Satoru called his dad, “old man” — what the fuck.

“I should be saying that to you son,” you bite your lip, listening to their conversation, “where’s my daughter? And why are you in her office?” and you covered your mouth, shit — you were hiding under your own desk, while Satoru sat in your chair.

Shit, shit, shit.

“I was just waiting for her to come back with lunch,” he manages, and you can almost see the dependable smile on his lips, “she volunteered to get us lunch and she told me to wait here so we could eat together,”

Your father was seemingly convinced after that, but to both of your dismay, sat down to speak with Satoru about business matters. You crouched, utterly bored as you listened to them talk, his erection beginning to wane, and you got an idea in your pretty little head — you grinned — well, Satoru should be careful what he wishes for, or he might just get you blowing him in front of your father.

You start slow — teasing the head with a brush of your fingers, easily could have been an accident, but it nearly makes him jump, as he gives a warning nudge with his foot gently. But then your hand begins to rub him in earnest, fingers using your spit as lube, as you heard your husband stammer over his words to your father. But it was nothing compared to when you closed your mouth over his cock, and began to deepthroat him again.

“Satoru, are you okay?’ you hear your father ask, as you discreetly suck your husband’s cock under his desk, and you can only imagine the delightful shade of red your Toru is turning.

“Sorry, I’m not feeling like myself,” he mumbles, as he grits his teeth in an attempt not to moan, and you can feel his thighs tense as he forces himself not to fuck your mouth as he wants to right now. He’s so close — as much as you like the idea of getting caught, you think Satoru likes it as much or maybe even more — his cock is twitching in your mouth as you suck and swirl your tongue around it, as your fingers dig into your thighs, “I apologize, I’m getting a call. Could you excuse me?”

And your father is oblivious, and excuses himself from the room, door shutting behind him, and Satoru groans, “Fuck, princess, you almost made me cum in front of your dad in this nasty fucking mouth,” and you suck harder, fingers fondling his balls, as his fingers find your locks again, and his hips jerk into your mouth, his white pubes tickling your nose, “thaaat’s it, fuck, so fuckin’ good, i’m close, sweetheart,” he groans, “you want me to cum—“ and you bury his cock deeper into your mouth as an answer, your hands pumping what you couldn’t fit, until he cums down your throat.

You meet his half lidded gaze, swallowing his cum, as you ease off his cock, a mix of cum and saliva connected your lips, “You taste so good,” you lick your lips, as you push the chair a little back and climb out, as you tug his boxers and pants back up, tucking his cock back in, “my favorite treat,”

He smiles, chest still rising and falling fast, “I love you, princess,” so genuinely as he pulls you into a deep kiss.

You giggle, humming against his lips, “So heartfelt after getting your soul sucked out of your dick,” you glance at the door, “do you think anyone heard us?”

He shrugs, as he pulls you into his lap, “I hope they did,” he grins against your neck, as you roll your eyes.

“You’re terrible,” and his lips curl.

“And you love me,” you kiss those same lips you would each day.

“I do.”

~~~~

“What do you wanna do today?” Satoru asks, your legs thrown over his lap, as you read a book you had picked up the other day out on a date with him, and he eats the kikufuku he had insisted on picking up the same day.

“Hmm, I have some ideas,” you hum, hiding your smile with a book, and you don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning.

“And what’s that, Princess?” he leans forward, plucking the book from your fingers, as you tut at his sugar covered fingers, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your husband?” And his lips brush against your neck, nose brushing against the soft skin of your nape, inhaling your scent.

“Well I have a surprise for you,” you weren’t planning on giving it to him now, but you pulled a wrapped box from behind the couch cushions, “should I make you wait?”

He’s reaching for the box already, as you laugh, and he’s snatching it from your fingers before you can tease him, “can I open it?” He was so eager, as always.

“Go ahead, baby,” you bite your lip, a small smile on your lips.

He lifts the lid of the wrapped box off, and the first thing his eyes flit across is the word “positive.”

His mouth parts, as he stares at the pregnancy test carefully nestled into the box, “is this—“ his cerulean eyes meet yours, a soft gaze with wonder, “are we—“

“We’re having a baby, Toru,” you nod, and he’s sweeping you into his arms, as you squeak, his body sweeping you up in his, as he buries his face in your neck, “Toru—“

“Is this real?” He murmurs, into your skin, all soft words and soft kisses, “I feel like I’m dreaming,”

“Well I am your dream girl, so maybe don’t be surprised when I pinch you and you wake up,” you pinch his cheek lightly, making his pale skin cutely flushed, pink dusting his cheeks, “no dream here, all real — so I guess you’re just lucky,”

“The luckiest,” he hums, a quiet noise that soothes you, “a beautiful wife, and now,” his fingers graze over your stomach, before lifting the hem of your shirt, to press his lips to it, “and now we’re going to be a family,”

Your lips curl, tilting his chin up so his watery gaze meets your own, thumb rubbing the length of his cheek, “We already were a family,

He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise, “I thought we were mortal enemies,” and you laugh, before shrugging.

“That too,” and he pulls you into his lap, smiling, “but you’re actually pretty cute,”

He gasps mockingly, “Princess, do you have a crush on me? A mere commoner?”

You roll your eyes, pressing a languid kiss to his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of the kikufuku, “I hate you,” you say, when he knows you mean quite the opposite.

And he only smiles the same way he always did — and the same way he always would — “love you too, Princess."

✩ a/n: so this was also inspired by a character AI made by @/fairybaby that has been living in my mind rent free for far too long. thank you to @/laneymusings for being the best emotional support from writing to formatting to everything in between

✩ tag list: @ryliobrow, @getosho3cakes, @delaneyyyy, @soukokufan, @purplscnerie, @solarlunarsstuff, @growingupnrealizing, @forest-fruits-jam, @achipstea1ingseagull, @fruitscall, @starplasma-cujoh, @crashing-a-jeep, @mwah-chia, @vorschlaghannah, @xrysakts, @emonaculate

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sab [mlist]#gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #jjk au

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charliemwrites · 4 months

Text

Woof woof grrrrrr

CW for dub con, stay safe everyone <3

The bar is exactly as busy as you’re hoping for when you get there. Quiet and intimate, low lights, a hum of conversation but not overwhelmingly loud. The bar is mostly full but not crowded. As luck would have it, you instantly spot a couple empty stools towards the back.

You glide across the establishment, head held high and shoulders back. Pick a seat and smooth your skirt under you to perch. The bartender comes to you instantly; you pick something sweet and fruity (delighted that it’ll match your outfit.)

It takes up until they slide it across to you — a tab opened with your card — that the insecurity starts to set in. What if no one is interested? What if Soap doesn’t show up?

You sip at your drink and pull out your phone, reading your latest book. If nothing else… at least you’re getting out? God.

“This isn’t your usual scene.”

Oh. Oh this is worse than being ignored all night and going home alone. So much worse. Just barely manage not to curse aloud as you turn to your ex.

“Justin…” you start, realize you don’t know where to go from there. “Hi.”

“It’s been a minute, huh?”

You look him up and down. Designer everything, of course, brands printed all over him. No taste, though, none of it is cohesive. You wouldn’t be caught dead at his side ever again.

“How’s your arm?”

His expression flickers, hand unconsciously going to the spot where Johnny tried to tear it off.

“Fine. Thanks.” He gives you a long look. Unfriendly. “You know people have had dogs put down for less.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, fear and anger twisting up in your stomach like hot lava. How dare he threaten your boy like that?! Wish Johnny was here now to take another chunk out of him.

“Not when people trespass on private property,” you reply coldly, eyes narrowing.

He puts his hands up, laughing awkwardly. “Well, now. I wouldn’t call it — let’s just say we’re even, yeah?”

“For that at least.”

You take another big sip of your drink. Find it empty. Make hopeful eye contact with the bartender and nod for another when they gesture questioningly. There’s a reason you love this bar.

“Right… listen, about that, luv…”

“There you are, bonnie!”

You perk up despite yourself. Says something that the creep who sexually harasses you in public is better company than your ex-fiancé. Something zings through you when you realize Soap is bigger than your Justin (hopefully in every aspect). Taller, wider, more muscular. Better jawline and prettier eyes, too.

“Tucked up back here like this,” Soap mock scolds, shouldering past Justin. You let out a little squeak as he scoops you off your barstool, hand just under your ass for a hold. “Almost didn’t see you, hen.”

“H-Hi,” you say, arms going around his neck automatically. He presses his nose to your collarbone and audibly inhales. You shiver.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he continues, voice dropping lower.

He sets you down on your stool again with a wink, then takes the stool next to yours.

“Oi, do you mind?” Justin snaps, bumped out of the way by Soap’s bulk.

“I do, actually.” The look Soap levels him is sharp, cold. Bloody killer. Instantly reminds you of all the alarm bells that normally play in your head when he’s around. “Don’t like puffed up knobs like you around my girl.”

You bite your tongue on a protest that you’re not his girl. Wouldn’t be particularly helpful right about now. You’ll correct him later.

“Your girl,” Justin scoffs. “She was mine before she was ever — hey!”

Soap’s got his fist in the front of Justin’s shirt, jerking him nearly off his feet. A few heads turn. You feel hot with embarrassment, skin prickling at so many eyes on your little trio of stupidity.

“Woah!” You yelp. “Soap!”

You grab his forearm (remind yourself not to get distracted by the muscles cording it) and lean into his line of sight. The near-murderous glint in his blue eyes softens, though there’s still an unnatural sheen to them. Something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand on end.

“Soap, let him go,” you say, quiet. “I like this bar, don’t get us kicked out… please?”

He hums, instantly drops Justin to cup his hand around the back of your neck, fingers edging into your hair. His palm feels so big and harm, a little rough with callouses. You try not to think about how easy it would be for him to manipulate your head however he wants…

“Like when you say ‘please,’ hen,” Soap purrs.

You swallow, feel your cheeks flushing as you say, “Then… you should sit down and have a drink with me. Please?”

He grins, crooked and a little mean. “Anythin’ fer you.”

He drops into his stool again like a king on his throne. You perch gingerly on your own, waving Justin away like an annoying fly. Don’t even look as he slinks off, too busy staring at Soap. Who’s… busy staring at you. As always.

“You never called,” he drawls after ordering. Whiskey, neat. The bartender sets your new drink in front of you; you start sipping to gather your thoughts and nerve. “Lucky I happened to stop in here, eh? Imagine if I’d walked past…”

You grimace a bit. A fantastic bit of luck, that. Thought you’re still not sure what type of luck.

Definitely not going to admit to him that you didn’t call on purpose, wanting plausible deniability if you did see him. As if trying to get him under your skirt by happenstance is better than calling him to do it.

“Why did you stop in here?” You ask, looking to change the subject.

“Could smell you,” he answers, eyes twinkling.

You wrinkle your nose, kick at his shin. Want to blame it on the alcohol, but you drink red wine most nights of the week. This is just… placebo and desperation.

“You’re so nasty, you know that?” You huff.

He arches his eyebrows, grins wolfishly. “Could show you how nasty I can be,” he offers.

You wrinkle your nose even as your cheeks burn. That’s exactly what you’re hoping for.

“You can’t keep talking to me like that,” you complain.

He snorts in amusement, hooking his fingers beneath your stool and tugging you closer. Until your knees are between both of his, jeans brushing against your thighs.

“Here’s the thing, darlin’,” he murmurs, low and private. “I think you like when I talk to you like that.”

You swallow audibly, hands dropping down to twist nervously in your lap.

“I think it makes your pretty pussy all wet and swollen when I get all mean like this,” he continues. You shake your head; his palm clamps down on your thigh beneath your skirt, thumb sweeping back and forth over the sensitive skin. “Think she’s fuckin’ aching fer me to make good on all my promises. And you can get all shy and sweet here, but I bet all your cunt wants is to be mounted and bred like a bitch in heat.”

And he’s right. Of course he’s fucking right. That goddamn bad guy fantasy and your shallow, needy pussy, and Soap’s stupid fucking everything.

You feel like you’re about to explode when the bartender sets his whiskey down, snapping the tension like a rubber band. Feel dizzy as you lean away, sipping desperately at your own drink in an attempt to cool off. He gives you all over maybe fifteen second before opening that sinful mouth again.

“So how about it, bonnie? Did I hit the mark?”

You feel frustrated tears pricking at your eyes. Blink and look away at your nervous hands.

“I-I don’t even know you,” you mutter. “You could be dangerous.”

“I am dangerous, baby,” he replies, “just not to you.”

You shake your head. “You’re awful.”

“Mm and you want me to do awful things to you.”

You sigh through your nose, that little logical voice blaring again. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to use you.

(Would that be so bad, if you go in knowing it?)

A tug at your necklace startles you out of your thoughts, his finger hooked beneath the pendant. You lean in with a noise of protest, afraid he’s going to break it. Gasp as your lips brush his.

“Whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty head, let me fuck it out of you.”

You shudder, hand balanced on his thick, muscular thigh. Can feel a twitch near your thumb. Holy shit.

“I’ll be so good to you, princess,” he promises. “Let me be good to you.”

You suck in a breath. Now or never.

Well, if nothing else, maybe you’ll let Johnny eat him if he’s turns out to be a bastard.

“Prove it,” you breathe.

He guides your chin up, eyes blazing with hunger.

“Yeah?” He asks.

You blink, muster up your courage. “You heard me. Or are you back out?”

His expression goes deliciously dark. “Oh, I’ll prove it, lass. You just sit right here and I’ll get us sorted.”

His fingers slip just that last little bit up and start teasing at the lace of your panties. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to sip at your cocktail while he flags down the bartender. His nails scrape lightly across the fabric over your clit as gets your card and throws down enough cash to cover all three drinks.

When he pulls his hand away, you have to bite back a whimper.

“If you don’t get up right now, I’m haulin’ you out of here over my shoulder,” he growls in your ear.

You’re up in an instant, smoothing down your skirt. His hand stays glued to your lower back as he ushers you out to the lot. Sits you down in the passenger seat of a black pickup, barely waits for you to buckle yourself in before peeling out of the lot.

You’re about to tell him your address when you hear the clink of a belt, a zipper. Eyes wide as they drop to his pants, to him fishing a huge, hard cock out of jeans.

“C’mere,” he near snarls.

“Soap, that’s not— mph!”

The head of his cock catches on your teeth, but that only seems to spur him on, hips twitching.

“Gonna ruin that pretty makeup, your pretty hair. Gettin’ all dolled up like that for any fucking wanker to see.”

He twists his fingers in your hair and presses you down, your cheek rubbing against the shaft. He feels huge and unnaturally hot. You press your thighs together as you imagine how it’s going to feel inside of you.

“This isn’t safe,” you complain, mouth open as you gasp against the flushed skin.

He curses, tugs you up so that your lips press against the head, already dripping. Your eyes widen in the darkness, shocked and flattered that you’ve already worked him up this much.

“Not gonnae let anything happen,” he promises, “but you need to convince me not to spank this pretty ass black and blue.”

You squeal as he releases you hair just to deliver a harsh smack to one ass cheek, the sting making you clench up.

“H-hey!”

“You want me to slap that pretty pussy too? Bet I could make you cum just tapping that little clit over and over again. That what you want, slag?”

“N-no!”

“Then show me.”

You seal your mouth around the head, sucking and licking at the precum beading at the tip. Try to brace yourself, nearly gag as he hits a pothole and shoves into your throat. It’s noisy and messy, eyes watering from how thick and deep he is already, not letting you up for more than brief gasps of air.

“Fuck, that’s it baby. Work your tongue just like that…” he groans.

You lose track of everything but trying not to gag, his threat lingering with each obscene slurp and twist of your tongue. He tastes better than you expected, and the scent of him surrounds you. Musk and pine, something familiar that niggles at your cock-drunk brain. Can’t be bothered to work it out though, not when he’s tugging your hair. Not when he comes to an abrupt stop and you deepthroat him.

He yanks you off with a near-animal growl. You whine, scrambling to brace yourself and panting. Your head feels foggy. Know your panties are soaked through; shocked you’re not dripping down your leg. If you were sitting properly, you’d probably leave a wet mark on the seat.

You moan as his mouth crashes into yours, tongue sweeping inside like he owns it. He licks the taste of himself off your tongue, hands fumbling your seatbelt off, dragging you over the center console to straddle his lap.

You gasp at the sight of his rock hard, angry cock next to your pretty dress, pressed up against your stomach. Show just how deep he’ll be inside your guts.

“Fuck, look’it that,” he groans rutting against your stomach. “Oh you were made to be mine.”

You scream as he scoops you up, stepping out of the truck with you over his shoulder.

“Soap!” You shout. “Soap, put me down, my dog—”

“I’m your fuckin’ dog,” he replies.

“No, seriously, he’s protective—”

He grabs the spare out of its hiding place and shoves the door open. You brace for angry barking and growls, but hear nothing. Soap doesn’t even pause. He just kicks the door shut and storms down the hall to your room, like he knows exactly where he’s going.

He drops you onto the bed, watches your breasts bounce as you settle on the mattress. He strips off int he blink of any eyes while you’re still catching your breath.

“W-wait, wait, my—”

He flips you onto your stomach, hikes your ass up high in the air. You squirm, try to crawl away, but he slaps your ass so hard you see stars. He places his palm flat between your shoulder blades to bin you still.

“S-Soap,” you whine as he shoves your skirt up over your ass, palms a cheek. Spreads you open just to let the flesh jiggle back into place.

“Fuck,” he growls. It sounds off. Sounds deeper, rougher now.

“Just-just slow down…!”

He yanks your panties aside, plunges two thick fingers into you. You squeal, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress.

“Oh, you’re plenty ready,” he says, dark, almost to himself. “All ready to be mated and bred. All mine.”

That finally starts to break the lust-drunk haze. Open your mouth to tell him absolutely not, it’s been way to long and your need to be stretched—

He forces his entire cock into you with one brutal thrust. You scream, cry, try to flatten yourself against the bed but he won’t even let you do that, muttering about “presenting” properly. It hurts but it feels good, know that’s it’s just too much.

“Soap,” you sob, “y-you can’t— you have to… I’m-I’m gonna break.”

“Shhhh, no you’re not,” he soothes, grinding a bit deeper. Your eyes roll back, keening through your teeth. “You were made for me. You’re all for me.”

You shake your head, but he just chuckles.

“Yes, baby, yes. You let me in, you kept me. Now we belong to each other.”

“Soap, w-what are you talking about…?” you manage, fists tight in the sheets. He draws back once and slams into you, hard, mean.

Leans down so he’s rumbling directly in your ear.“‘S Johnny, hen.”

You blink, confused and overwhelmed. “W-what… n-no. No, Johnny is my….”

“Woof.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #dark fic #woof woof johnny #woof woof au

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crystalflygeo · 3 months

Text

How to Warm Up your Dragon ft Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: ngl this is MOSTLY VERY FLUFFY but it has a veeeery spicy part ehehehehe, praise kink, biting, bit of rough sex, creampie, dirty talk. Reader is technically Fontainian but you can ignore that tbh

notes: Y'ALL THIS HAS BEEN ON MY WIPS SINCE BEFORE FONTAINE IT'S BEEN SOSOSOSOSO LONG I started writing at the start of winter here, now it's summer lmao but hey at least it's winter in the northern hemisphere so... enjoy the snow and dragon man!! Also also... no one guessed what the gift was but Rin was the closest!

Your mother always used to say the way to a man's heart was with food.

you wonder if that applied to archons... er, dragons? adepti?

In any case...

Zhongli has always been a... particular eater. A very refined palate. It's not that he was hard to please, to tell the truth. But he always seemed to have an extra comment, something to add or change to a dish to make it ‘a little more special’.

But you'd quickly find out he had a soft spot for broths and soups, bamboo shoot soup being his particular favorite. Even when it took a lot of hard work and time to prepare, the way he did so was worth it, simply spectacular.

That's why you could almost cry with joy when he happily praised one of your favorite dishes. A fantastic soup d'oignon passed down on your family. Nothing to add, no extras or corrections, he'd enjoy it to its fullest talking about the creamy texture and unique flavor of the cheese so different from those found in Liyue.

So, today you decided to prepare it. Nothing better to warm up on this chilly season, and besides you'd just received a shipment of ingredients from your family.

The rhythm of a knife on a cutting board fills the air, along with a delicious smell. You finish slicing the onions into thin strips and add them to the pot at the stove, humming lightly while stirring. You really hope nothing would keep your dear Zhongli too busy today, so he could be just in time to enjoy this while still fresh and warm.

You turn off the other burner as the beef stock had already warmed up, and start washing some dishes while keeping an eye on the food. It is… rather amusing just how domestic this all feels. Not too long ago you were adventuring over Teyvat, facing off all sorts of crazy dangers, exploring, and never stopping in one place and now… now this feels like home.

And that is without taking into account who your fiancé even is. The former Geo Archon. You shake your head with a light chuckle. It’s still so weird to think of such an imposing figure from legends to be so… him.

You dry your hands and start to pour the broth on the now-golden onions, stirring.

Zhongli is sweet, caring, attentive, wise, with just the right words at the right time. Admittedly a bit airheaded at times, funny when he wants to be. A refined gentleman through and through unlike anyone you’d ever met.

And he loves you.

And you’re engaged.

Warmth rises up to your cheeks along with a small smile as you lower the heat and start grating the cheese.

You heard sounds at the front door and then steps. Oh, early today. Zhongli walks up to you with a smile, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek, his hands resting at your waist as he leans in from over your shoulder. “Welcome home, Li.”

“Thank you” He replies in that deep suave voice. “That smells good my love, would you like some help finishing?”

You shake your head a little. “Please, there’s no need, you just got home. Go take a bath and unwind a little, I’ll finish here and we’ll eat.”

Zhongli looks as if he’s about to say something but simply nods. “Hmm, alright then.” He pulls you a little closer in his embrace, as if he’d missed your contact, your scent. Zhongli inhales deeply, tension seeping off of his body and he gives a soft kiss at your shoulder before almost regretfully pulling away. You chuckle a little and stir the pan.

How domestic and loving indeed.

…

Later when the food is ready and served, he returns to the small kitchen dressed in much more casual and comfier robes. Your eyes linger a little on the small expanse of exposed skin at his neck and chest and then stop at the way his long hair is tied up in a bun.

“Not washing your hair today?” You ask casually, taking your seat.

“I… Perhaps I have gotten rather used you doing it. I simply didn’t feel like it.”

You can’t help the short laugh that escapes you, even as you try to cover it a little. “Is this your way of saying you wanted me to bathe with you?”

His golden eyes twinkle. “I would certainly enjoy indulging in that more often.”

Your cheeks flush and you avert your eyes.

He takes a spoonful of soup and hums, closing his eyes to appreciate the flavors. “The finest ingredients cooked with true expertise. Simply divine, my love, thank you.”

“Flatterer.” You say, a little embarrassed but he can see right thought it, your little grin, the little shift in your posture.

“I am simply stating the truth.” He replies and continues eating. You can see his shoulders relax and the small satisfied smile at the warm food, it makes you a little giddy as you start eating as well.

---------------------

bundling up during winter was obvious, right?

Putting on layers and layers of clothes. And true, perhaps Liyue didn't get as cold as other nations such as Fontaine, Mondstadt or of course Snezhnaya, but maybe it was exactly for that reason the temperature drop seemed to affect everyone all the more. Besides, the people would take any excuse to show off their fancy coats, scarves and other cold-climate outfits.

Zhongli naturally wore many layers, and he did mention once or twice he wasn't as affected by the cold. Yet, his business partner had gifted him a thick snezhnayan cloak.

The thing was entirely ridiculous, too bulky with a fluffy overtop, the colors dark and cool not matching Zhongli at all.

And yet he'd used it! (Only twice... but still)

You were not jealous, not at all.

You just wanted to... give him something he'd also enjoy and wear around, yes. Something personal, something he’d like and look at and remember you.

But what?

Ugh, it’s not like you were really well versed in sewing. Back at home you’d even had some machinery for that, but here in Liyue… you wracked your brain thinking what could you give him. He had quite a few elegant outfits, fitting him perfectly and enhancing all his attributes, all personally tailored by one of his late Yaksha so they held immense sentimental value as well… how could you compete with that?!

Right, right, it was not a competition. You sigh. Zhongli will probably be happy with anything you give him, but still…

An idea pops into your head and you can’t help but chuckle. Oh, it’s so silly… but maybe…

Simple enough, personal, something he’d use during the cold season only around you. Could work, you decided as you pick up your things to go visit the textile shop.

If nothing else, it could at least get a good chuckle out of Zhongli, right?

And so, for a few days you work on your little project. Turns out sewing was indeed a little harder than expected but you were trying your best. The kind lady who’d sold you some excellent wool had also given you some tips and they proved to be most useful indeed!

Regrettably you didn’t exactly have the right measurements so you more or less eyeballed them. Eh. It’ll be fine…

Zhongli almost came close to finding out too, though you were inconspicuous enough. You’re sure he suspects something.

“It will all be worth it, it will all be worth it…” You mumble to yourself with a frown as you finish trimming one of the stitches. Your fingers hurt.

…

“Li! I have something for you!” You exclaim happily, hands behind your back holding the wrapped-up item you had worked so hard on. An excited glow on your smile and bright eyes.

“Oh? Am I going to finally see what you’ve been guarding to secrecy this past week?” He replies coolly with a knowing smile, amusement dancing on his tone as he places his teacup down.

Nothing escapes him.

“Yes” You present him the gift, your hands then fidget nervously, having nothing else to do now. “I hope you like it! It’s… my first time doing something like this… i-it may not be that good, it’s kind of silly but-”

“Darling please do not fret, I would love anything you give me.”

Your shoulders relax.

Zhongli unwraps the paper and finds a rich dark brown fabric staring back at him, he picks the item and opens it, trying to gauge its shape, thick wool, a little rough around the edges but you did mention it was your first try and he is honored enough you’d make such effort for him.

However…

What is it exactly?

He turns the item around trying not to show too much confusion on his face as to insult you or make you feel bad, it looks like… a severely oversized legwarmer?

“It’s…” You start, feeling a little shy and silly once more. “…for your tail.”

Recognition shines in his eyes and he blinks at the item.

“You- I know you like to let loose a little around the house and let your illuminated beast features show, I love you tail too but I know… the scales get cold easily a-and usually we just bundle up with a blanket but I thought-”

“I love it.”

You stop running your mouth as soon as he utters those words, Zhongli looks at you with a gentle calm and your heart could melt at the sincerity in his expression. “No one had ever made something like this for me.”

He stands and unfurls the item, then, in a flash of gold his dragon tail manifests, majestic as ever and swaying lazily, the tuft of fur at the end flickering with each move. He maneuvers a little to slip the ‘tailwarmer’ on and though it sags a little, much to your relief it at least fits nicely. There is a yellow diamond pattern near the base that you’d started working on but deemed too difficult for a first try. It was a cute little detail though, maybe next time.

“Warm and cozy.” He chuckles and you beam at him, before letting out a squeak as said dragon tail curls around you, pressing your forward against his chest.

“Thank you, my love.” He cups your face and kisses your forehead.

---------------------

The air is hot and heavy as soft moans and grunts fill the room.

Well, this was certainly a way to warm up… and get some good cardio.

You pant and squirm on the plush surface of a heavenly mattress as the familiar weight of the ex-archon descends upon you. His arms going from a golden orange hue to a deep charcoal, lines of gold thrumming across his skin, glowing softly in periodic pulses up strong muscular arms. Golden horns rise from soft brown hair curled at the tips, two on each side like a crown, while a powerful scaly tail wraps around your calf holding your leg up, spread.

This is Rex Lapis. Morax. Any other number of names he had. This is the Geo Archon.

“Zhongliii!” You whine, his hands caressing your body, claws teasing along your skin, pinching a nipple, fangs grazing your collarbone and a long serpentine tongue licking a hot stripe across your neck.

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, already rock hard and burning like a brand, your hips canting for more. For him to finally fill you, to feel his thick overwhelming girth stretch you, breed you… you want to be filled so full it overflows, so that it dribbles down your thighs and ass in thick, slick rivulets of his love.

“Patience my love.”

You whimper and jerk at that, about to cry out for him again when he rolls his hips and sinks in your warm hole. Your breath catches in your throat as your head throws back on the soft feather pillows.

He pushes into you inch by inch, carving a space for himself with a soft rumbling groan. His lips seek yours as his hands slide to your hips and press hard enough to bruise. His kiss devouring, all-consuming with need as he bottoms inside you, hips pressed flush.

Gods you feel so full, stretched and filled every inch and then some, and he doesn’t allow you a moment to pause and adjust either. A beast of a man in the best of ways, he withdraws halfway, only to slam forward in a fluid firm thrust.

“Mng-! Ah!”

“Mine. All mine. S-so warm and thigh- nghh…”

His pace starts slow, his voice alone enough to drive you crazy with how deep, carnal, animalistic it is against your neck. Sharp canines teasing the elegant column of your throat as he moves.

“Oh! so good… Li… f-faster… faster ple-ahhn!” Your voice pitches high as you babble, pleasure coiling on your gut.

“As- you desire…” Strained words still sounding like the very embodiment of sex, his voice so sinfully deep, so erotic it washes over you like liquid silk, like molten gold, only heightening the sensations of his quickening pace. In and out, in and out, skin slapping on skin. “You’re… you’re so perfect for me-”

You take him so well, your legs spread wide, your back arched, your insides molded to his length, enveloping him in the most mind-blowing of heats. The bed creaking as Zhongli delivers another powerful thrust, hitting a sweet spot deep within you and making you elicit a sharp keening sob of a moan. Your hands scrambling from the sheets to seek purchase at his back, curled up under his arms to scratch viciously trying to hold onto something, anything as he drives into you thrust after thrust after thrust-

“I’m- I’m gon-ahnn! Z-Zhongli… ooohh!”

Fuck you are close. So, so close…

He nips at the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. “Almost there… little one.” He huffs between strained grunts and you whimper at the pet name. Golden claws sink on the bedsheets, gripping thigh for leverage as he moves faster, frantic, hips like pistons he fucks into you like a wild animal, the bed rocking, shaking with each thrust. “C-close…”

You mewl and moan, unable to form coherent thoughts anymore but just feel the hot burning pleasure, his warm puffs of breath on your skin, your sweating bodies dampening the sheets and you desperately want to feel his warm seed inside you, filled to the brim with his creamy cum.

“Pleasepleaseplease i-in! In-s-ahh!” You come with a sharp cry, vision blurring, muscles clenching, your insides squeezing around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

It was enough, the tipping point for the dragon, his thrusts shallowing out until he ruts as deep as he can and shoots his load inside you with a guttural groan. Thick spurts pumping inside you before it pools out around his own cock, leaking from your body until there’s nothing left to give.

Everything is hot… so hot… the air heavy and musky with the scent of sex…

…

Zhongli slumps softly atop your body after what feels like ana eternity, his cock still comfortably nestled within your slick walls, cushioned by fluttering muscles. You lay beneath him, sweaty and shivering, breathless, chest raising and falling rapidly in small gasps as you struggle to catch your breath but oh, how you took his away…

Beautiful, truly… your half-lidded eyes glazed over, barely able to open admits your exhaustion, but still able to whimper soft little moans as he trails fluttering reverent kisses along your neck and collarbone. Soft, chaste, loving and tender touches.

“Ahhn… mmm…” He chuckles softly at the endearing sounds you make as he eases out of you, the subtle friction enough to sent fire to your nerves, followed by a strange emptiness that mellows down to buzzing contentment.

He lies to the side and pulls you close towards his chest, his tail finally letting your now sore leg rest, uncoiling from it to curl around you both, you settle there with a sigh, eyes sliding shut. “So good for me.” Zhongli gently brushes some hair away from your face and places a kiss at the crown of your head, resting his chin there. “Rest now, dear.”

“Mn.”

---------------------

You smile as Zhongli places the two steaming teacups on the table before scooting over and welcoming him with the blanket surrounding you. He settles on the couch with you cuddling close and passing the book on your hands to him. Your fingers brush and he sets the book on his lap before taking your hands on his, cradling them close to his face before blowing a warm breath on them. You blush and let out a little airy laugh.

“What is this? Dragon breath to keep me warm?”

He hums against your skin, piercing golden eyes staring up at you. “No, just my love for you.” He kisses your knuckles and fingers.

“You…” You mumble, averting your gaze.

He chuckles and kisses your wrist then before leaning in close and kissing your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, anywhere he can reach.

“Ngah, wait you affectionate big lizard!” You squirm and he laughs fully now.

“Just seeking my adorable fiancée’s warmth” He nuzzles onto your neck, kissing there too and making you yelp. “Gorgeous.”

“A-Am not!”

“So precious when you get all shy and flustered.” He gets your jaw this time when you move, so close to your lips.

“Stop! You menace…” You pout and this time you cup his face, staring for a moment at his handsome features, your thumb brushing close to one of the red markings under his eyes.

This man. This dragon. This god.

Oh, how you love him. He warms up your heart.

“Here, I’ll warm you up proper…” You whisper softly, pulling him close and tilting your head to slot your lips together.

Just as you warm up his.

#crys writes #zhongli smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #fem!reader #I am so happy this is done eeeeeeeee <3 #alt title: warm him up with food with clothes with your body and with your love #dcfgscvgabcjah I love him sm

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selarina · 4 months

Text

continuation to this

so, that night gojo satoru leaves with no jacket and half a broken heart and for the first time since he was 12 years old, he takes a sip of alcohol as he slouches against his home bar.

it's bitter, and it tastes a bit too much like soy sauce for his liking but he sips and sips until he sees the engraved "S.G" inscription at the bottom of his glass.

"hello, husband," a voice comes from behind him, interrupting his sob fest.

and for a moment, for dumb little moment, he thinks it's you. the voice sounds nothing like you though, it's far too high-pitched, but he's dreamt of this far too much for him to imagine someone else calling him husband.

aya tsukino materialises next to him, and seats herself on a seat beside him. she moves with a certain a quiet sleekness that he barely caught her moving from behind him. or maybe, he's finally out of it. "excited for the wedding, then?" she deadpans as she pours herself a drink.

"thrilled," he parrots back, merely a barren echo of emotions.

there's more truth in this room than there's been in your shared room for weeks. because it's simple really— gojo doesn't want to marry her, and aya couldn't care less as long as she got the money his family had.

before they had even exchanged any words, it was clear that they had this silent agreement that the two of them had little to do with love and everything to do with societal expectations and status.

as gojo attempts to take another sip from his empty company, he can't help but replay the events of the evening in his mind. your anger, and the way you stood up for the love you believed in. it'll haunt him for the rest of his life.

he wonders if you'll genuinely come to understand that he did have you in mind when he left you. he doesn't want you to be a mistress, a dirty little secret. he's seen how it broke his mother apart. how could he wish the same fate upon you knowing how his mother's life ended?

you're strong, and he believes you will persist and he will see at the end of his life sleeping grey and old in his bed as he stares at the way the sunlight hits your laugh lines.

but he also remembers the way you cried in secret. he never brought it up, he never brings it up. he was just waiting for the day you'd be comfortable enough to cry in front of him but for now, he settles for meaningless presents he brings afterwards to wipe off the blue from your face.

he places his glass down with a clink, and he hears a resembling clink from aya. "i'll ask you this only once, gojo satoru," she speaks up. "do you want this marriage?"

"i never wanted this marriage," his reply is immediate.

"of course not," she says. "i meant, do you still want to go through with this?"

he doesn't respond. the both of them know the answer to that, it's written all too clearly on his soppy little face.

"what if i don't," he finally speaks. "what about your money? your status?"

"my money..." she feigns to ponder. "as someone who's always sought out money, i can tell you one thing about it. money, it comes and it goes. i'll find another way as i always do," she says. "i will be fine."

"your father—"

"—is a terrible man, who will go on his pissy campaign against me but i hope it's not presumptuous of me to expect you to come to defence when needed. you know, for all the trouble?"

he chuckles with no mirth. seems trouble is all he's capable of causing the past few days. "of course," he responds.

aya smiles, she supposes there's one benefit of having the strongest sorcerer as her ex-fiancé. she stands up, as she pulls her coat snug against her body as she prepares to leave. "besides, you're not the only rich high-status man in town, you know?"

"well, they're not all me," he replies. his smug demeanour returning to him like it's breathing a new life into him.

"wow, a bonus too," she chuckles.

"and who was that handsome man with you on friday? blonde, glasses, chiselled like a—"

"nanami kento," he replies with a grin.

"nanami kento. is he rich?"

"not as rich as you," he replies. it's true. he's rich, he worked on wall street after all and nanami is a smart man, he has so much in his savings account, it's enough to feed an entire nuclear family. why he saves up is something that's beyond gojo.

"well, he's handsome. tell mr. kento i said hello," she smiles facetiously.

"tsk, fine." he grins again. "get out of here."

it's been a week since you heard about the wedding falling apart. and since, you've been hearing about it daily, almost hourly if you're being honest. after all, you're at the centre of it. it only makes sense.

there's a whole slew of narratives running around, cheating, money laundering, even murder. but the most popular one was about how aya was the rosaline to your romeo and juliet. gojo's as romeo as he comes — handsome, influential and maybe a bit endearingly dumb but you fail to see how you're juliet. she was rich, influential, beautiful — everything you've been starkly reminded that you are not.

but everyone's talking about the romance of it all and you haven't heard from gojo himself so it's strange to take their words to mind or heart. you ignore them, forming a ready-made response sheet in your head to every possible question you encounter across the week. they become white noise, as you go through your day like a pre-programmed robot.

but that changes on a hot, dusty afternoon as you're sitting in a cafe, awaiting a man you were advised against seeing, and he's late. of course, he's fucking late. he broke up with you and he has the audac—

he walks in. he looks exhausted, lankier than usual, and there's a cruel part of you that likes it. to know he looks as miserable as you've been seeing. there's the other, familiar part of you that wants to run your fingers against his sensitive eyes as you feed him with the warmth of the diner's food.

but you do neither, you neither smile nor frown. you sit in place as you wait for him to come and sit opposite you.

"hey," his voice sounds gravelly. "i'm sorry i'm late."

"nothing i'm not used to," you reply with a glare as you cross your arms.

his hands reach for the menu as he plays with the edges of the paper. he always orders the same breakfast meal from this place. he must be nervous.

"i... i wanted to talk to you," he starts. "i want you back."

"excuse me? you can't just—"

"i'm willing to do anything. anything. if you want to take it slow, i understand. if you want to take your time, i understand. if you want me to get down on my knees and beg, i understa—"

"do it."

his eyes widen, you can tell — even though the black glasses are blocking his eyes, you can tell. it only lasts for a split second, because you blink with contempt and he's beside you. on his knees, as he stares up at you. he barely stares up at you — he's so tall, he's almost eye-to-eye with you. but even so he hunches his back, makes himself small.

"i'm sorry," he says again, as he takes off his glasses placing it onto the table in front of you. his eyes are alarmingly blood-red, and it takes every muscle in your body to hold back from running your fingers over his. "like i said, i'll do anything. just pleas— take me back."

you stare, and he stares back at you. you're too lost in the way he looks at you — at your mercy — that you miss the strange and baffled looks from people around you. and when you finally do, your cheeks flush with heat.

"okay," you say. " please, get up now."

"no, let me— let me stay," he says. pleads. "just let me stay until you take me back."

"fine," you sigh, as if there was any real objection from your side. "get up now."

"really?" his blood-red eyes gleam, you could almost see a tinge of the vibrant blue coming back to life.

"yes," you groan as your hand grip his elbow. "i was willing to be your fucking mistress. did you really thin— i would say— mmpph"

and just like that he's up, sliding next to you on your seat, as he kisses you. you're ashamed to admit that your first thought was the idea of getting kicked out for public indecency but your second thought was about how you think you could stay like this forever. despite the public gawking at you through mean and baffled stares.

"i'm serious about doing whatever it takes," he says, sincerity laced in his voice. "you shouldn't let me get away with this lightly."

you smile. "I hope you mean it," you reply. "and i won't. i’ll make you work for it, just a little."

he nods with a smile, "anything. i'll make it up to you."

"you have to do the chicken dance," you say, seriously and firmly.

"what?"

"you have to do the chicken dance. right now in the middle of the diner and i'm taking a video," you pull out your phone. "and... i'm sending it to nobara."

his eyes widen, almost like he's feeling actual fear. "not nobara," he gasps. "but she's so mean, baby."

"well, you said anything."

he sighs. gojo looks around the crowded diner, his tall frame rigid and tense. he glances at you, then at your phone, and finally resigns himself to the absurd request.

"fine," he mutters, standing up from the seat as he begins flapping his arms and doing a clumsy version of the chicken dance in the middle of the diner.

#the idea was to make gojo as pathetic as possible #but ya'll asked and i'm delivering #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #gojo satoru #gojo x reader angst #jjk x reader angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst

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yeonzzzn · 8 days

Text

🍀no limits: park jongseong

spin-off of the off limits trilogy

pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 17.5k

synopsis: jay was finally able to open up his restaurant and it being more successful than he could have hoped. You decided to try the new restaurant everyone kept talking about, falling in love with it immediately and even crushing on its owner. You become a regular and get to know jay quickly. as jay becomes bold and finally asks you on a date and brings you back home with him, he fails to tell you he shares the space with his sister, three best friends and his five month old niece…

genre: strangers to lovers, uncle!jay, smut

warnings: swearing, alcohol, overprotective jay, multiple unprotective sex scenes, dom!jay, breeding kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (m. + f. receiving), cum eating, hair pulling, aftercare, semi public sex in a dark corner of a club, MINORS DNI, lemme know if i missed anything <3

✰ this is a spin-off to the main series, please read parts one-three before reading this one. they are tagged under the title ✰

•·.·'spin off spotify playlist'·.·•

Jay rubbed his hands together, “Okay everyone, are you ready?”

“Jesus man!” Heeseung snapped, using his hand to fan his face from the summer heat, “Just hurry up, it’s just us no need to be so nervous.”

“That’s what I am saying,” Sunghoon agrees, also fanning his face, “Too damn hot outside.”

Jay knew he had zero reason to be nervous, but how could he not? He was fixing to share one of his biggest achievements (besides ya know, graduating college with not just his computer science degree but also his culinary and business degrees) with his friends, his family, what is not scary about that?

“Jongseong, my sweet son,” his mother said, rocking his niece on her hips, “We are excited to share this moment with you, it’s all okay.”

Jay relaxed at his mother’s words until his sister opened her mouth.

“Jay, just hurry the hell up,” she rolled her eyes, “I am sweating. I can feel it rolling down my back.”

Jay narrowed his eyes at her, “Stinks, no one asked for that gross detail.”

Before she could say anymore, Jake wrapped his arms around her from behind, “Baby, he’s nervous let him take his time.”

Thank you, Jake, finally, someone gets it.

“Dad, want to help me with the sign?” Jay asked, finally deciding to get it over it.

He nodded, going to the other side of the door, holding the string that led to the banner that was covering up the sign to his restaurant, “On three?”

Jay nodded, his hands shaking as he held the other string, “One…”

“Two,” his father smiled.

“Three,” Jay said finally, both the strings being pulled and the banner falling to the ground.

His eyes quickly dart to his family and friends, their eyes widening and smiles growing wide.

His sister and Jake covered their mouths quickly, tears filling their eyes, “You named it Hwa Young…” his sister softly said.

Jay nodded, wiping his sweaty hands against his jeans, “Yeah, I named it after Hwa…” Jay’s voice trembled, “Was just going to name it Beautiful Little Flower, but thought her actual name would be more meaningful.”

Jay adored his niece just as much, or even a bit more, as he adored his little sister, the two of them being the most important women in his life along with his mother. Using his niece's name for his restaurant was too perfect to pass up.

“Brother,” Jake said, walking over to him, reaching his hand out for Jay to take it, and he did, “I can’t believe you did this man.”

Jay pulled his best friend into a hug, rocking each other back and forth, “It’s all for my family.”

Jay could finally say he’s gotten used to calling Jake his brother-in-law, even if he and his sister weren’t married yet, it kinda felt nice to call Jake his brother officially.

“Jongseong,” his sister cried, practically yanking her fiancé out of the way and hugging him herself, “I love you so much, big brother.”

Jay now felt his own tears swelling in his eyes, “I love you too, Stinks.”

One by one the rest of his family hugged him, giving him all the congrats he could ask for. Jay fully and truly felt the happiest in this moment.

Hwa cooed and reached her arms out for him.

Never mind, this was the happiest moment he could ever ask for.

Jay retrieved Hwa from his mother, hugging her tightly to his chest and planting kisses all over her face, causing her baby giggles to fill his ears.

“Show us inside now???” Sunghoon asked, anxiously waiting to see how it looked and honestly wanting to get out of the heat.

“What Sunghoon said!” Heeseung joined in, “Unlock the doors!”

He rolled his eyes, “God, you lot are so annoying.”

Jay took the keys from his pocket and officially opened the door for the first time since the restaurant was finished.

“I welcome you all,” Jay said with a smirk, his nerves finally disappearing, “To Hwa Young, the best cafe restaurant of food from all over the world all in one place.”

The smiles from his friends and family helped boost his ego, knowing damn well they already loved his cooking and knowing they were all fixing to love it even more.

—

You didn’t think the line to the new restaurant in town was going to be, quite literally, wrapped around the building. The whole parking lot was completely filled with everyone and their mommas here in line.

You should have expected this though, the restaurant has only been open for about a month and the news on it has been crazy. It’s made almost every food article with five-star ratings. No wonder this place hasn’t slowed down at all.

The line was slowly moving and you were so close to the door you could already taste the food you wanted to order. Shifting your weight back and forth on your feet you didn’t think your stomach would last much longer until a line of people left the restaurant doors, and the line you were in moved faster.

Thank fucking christ.

Soon enough you made it past the doors, the cool air condition sending shivers down your spine in pure bliss from getting out of the summer heat. You took the time to glance around the restaurant. It was a beautiful blue-green cafe-style feel with the fancy life of a normal restaurant. Whoever the owner is, he knows what he is doing. Making this place feel so warm and welcoming and at the same time is fancy and professional. He had big brains, for real.

Your eyes now darted to each waiter and waitress, seeing a flash of long red hair shoot across from the kitchen to a table, tray of food in hand. Your best friend.

Yunjin gave her customers big smiles and told them to enjoy their meal, her eyes lifting to see you and another big smile on her face, making her way towards you.

“YNNIIEEE!!!” She set the empty tray on an empty table and quickly pulled you into a hug, “I am happy you finally made it here!!!”

You hugged her back, squeezing her tightly and rocking her back and forth, “I waited in line for like an hour.”

She quickly pulls back, folding her hands at your shoulders, “Really?!”

You nod, giving a small smile.

Yunjin quickly glances around the restaurant, “There aren’t any empty tables in my section,” she glances off to the right side of the building, “You’ll have to sit over there.”

You pouted but accepted it anyway. You came here specifically to see your friend and to get served by her. Well, you wanted to see this place too. Yunjin has hyped up this restaurant and her boss for the entire time she’s worked here. Plus again this place has been given five-star reviews, probably ten if it were allowed.

“There’s still plenty more time for me to come see you,” you comforted her, resting your hands now on her shoulders, “But I am starving sooooo.”

She giggles and leads you to the table, “You’ll be well taken care of here, I promise you.” She gave a wink before rushing back off to her section of the restaurant.

You twisted your fingers in your hands, glancing between every other waiter and waitress, curious as to who would be the one to serve you.

Yunjin quickly made her way to the kitchen, double-checking the tickets on the rack and glancing at the trays of food. Her eyes glanced up to finally find who she originally came back here to look for.

“Jay!”

Jay kept his eyes locked on the order slip in his right hand, glancing back and forth between the tray in his hand and the piece of paper to make sure everything was there, “What’s up?” he finally answered her.

Yunjin slides to his side, glancing up at him with a smile, “My best friend is here, the one I’ve told you about?”

Jay starts walking away, “Congratulations. Let me know how she likes it here, and have her give us a review.”

Yunjin pouted but followed quickly after him, “She’s not in my section.”

Jay set the tray down on the counter, placing a few utensils onto the plates and double-checking once again that everything was in order, “Take her order anyway.”

Before Jay could pick up the tray again, Yunjin was slipping it into her hands, Jay glared at her, “She’s in your section. I want her to get the best experience here. You’re as best as it will get.”

Jay already had other customers to make sure and keep up with, along with keeping up with the kitchen and all his employees. Plus Yunjin was more than capable of bouncing back and forth between sections. Yet Yunjin winked at him and ran out with his tray.

Jay followed quickly behind her, “Give it back.”

“Nope,” she sang, pointing a finger across the restaurant, “She’s right there. Show her how good this place is.”

Jay rolled his eyes and pulled his notepad, silently cursing to himself that he needed to invest in tablets to take orders, “Maybe I need to offer her your job too while I am at it.”

Yunjin gave him a wink, “No you won’t,” and she walked away.

Jay sighs, walking over to the table Yunjin pointed at. Reaching his hand into his pocket to pull out his pen and write down the table number. Putting on his boss/customer service mask.

“Hello! Welcome to Hwa Young, I’m…”

Jay lost every ounce of thought process when you looked up at him. Your beautiful eye color shines so brightly under the sunlight coming in from the windows. Your smile sends him into cardiac arrest. He just stares at you, taking in every inch of your beauty. You’re friends with Yunjin? This beautiful human being sitting in front of him was friends with his Yunjin?

You stared back at him, taking in his pretty brown eyes and the way his blonde hair was slicked back, the dark of his natural hair slowly peeking through his skin. Small strands of his hair fell into his face, complimenting his tan skin even more.

Jay blinked a couple of times, and looked down at his notepad, “Welcome to Hwa Young, I am Jay, the owner of this restaurant and I’ll be taking care of you today.”

The…OWNER?!? Yunjin put you in the owner's section?!?! You already knew your face was blushing at the beautiful man before you. Already knew your best friend was standing off into the distance with a smirk on her face.

You kept repeating to yourself to look away from him, to look back at the menu and tell him what you wanted. But you couldn’t look away from him, just like he kept staring back at you.

Jay didn’t know what came over him and why he was so speechless. He’s been with pretty girls before, slept with plenty of them, and has served just as many in his restaurant. But what’s so different about you? Everything was telling him to sit across from you in this booth. But he had a job to do, and other tables to take care of.

He blinked a couple of times and shook himself out of his daze, “New here?”

His words brought you back to reality, forcing you to finally look at the menu, “Yes, first time actually. My best friend works here.”

“Yunjin? Yeah, she told me you were here. She talks about you a lot actually.”

You looked back at him for a split second and then whipped your head around to find your friend, seeing her peeking her head around the corner of the kitchen door, “Sounds like something she’d do.”

Jay chuckles, his nerves finally settling down, “It is. She’s great though. Very hard working and one of the best waitresses I have.”

You smiled at him at the praises he gave your best friend, feeling more relaxed, “Okay Mr. Bossman,” you teased, “What is the best thing here?”

Jay smiles, “Everything,” you roll your eyes at his cockiness, but know he fully means it. The man was running a five-star restaurant that was a month old. He knows what he’s doing, “How about I surprise you with something?” He asked, leaning his hands on the table, “Sound good?”

You nodded, but then quickly shook your head, “How much will it be?” You completely forget you paid your rent this morning, coming here with a mission to try the cheapest thing.

But Jay just kept his smile wide, “It’ll be on the house. Can’t have a pretty girl who is best friends with Yunjin pay for her first visit, can we?” He gave you a wink, “Don’t worry about a thing, YN,” and he slowly backed away, keeping his eyes on you until he turned around and walked to the kitchen. The flash of red hair ran in after him.

It surprised you that he knew your name, but then you remembered Yunjin ran her mouth about you. Making you now wonder what all Jay knew about you.

Once Jay was in the safe space of the kitchen, he leaned onto the countertop, placing his hand on his chest and pulling the fabric of his black dress shirt between his fingers.

“Sooooo,” Yunjin sang standing in front of him and tilting her head, “How did it go?”

Jay gave her a death glare, “What are you pulling here?”

Yunjin gave him a look of confusion, holding her hands up, “Me? Planning something?”

Jay hardened his glare.

Yunjin sighs, resting her arms back down to her side, “I really am not planning anything. I just want my friend to have a good experience here.” Jay stared at her more, “Okay!! Fine! I was totally hoping you’d fall head over heels for her and take her out.”

Jay stood up straight, “I am firing you,” he said to her and walked over to the cook, quickly writing down a meal he’s praying you’ll love and hooking it into the rack, “This needs to go out ASAP.” The cook nods, giving him a “You got it boss.” and a smile.

“You won’t fire me,” Yunjin challenges, “But come on, I saw the way you looked at her.”

“I don’t know her,” Jay retorted, walking to the back office and dropping into his chair, sliding his hand through his hair.

“Then get to know her.”

“You’re still following me? Get back to work.”

“Jay,” she said leaning her elbows on his desk, “If you don’t take her out, I’ll ask Wonbin to take her out.”

Jay rolls his eyes, “Wonbin?”

She shrugs, “He’s been talking about wanting a girlfriend for a while, might as well. Or I could always ask one of your friends the next time I see them here.”

“No!” The way Jay was so quick to reject the idea of one of his friends taking you out made Yunjin smile even more, “No, to it all. If something is going to happen, it’s going to be natural, stop playing matchmaker. Get back to work.”

She frowned, but nodded anyway, walking away, “She’s a beautiful woman, better take your shot before someone else notices.”

Jay rubbed his temples. Oh how very aware he was of how beautiful you are. Knowing Yunjin was right. Jay made quick work of piling up your meal and dessert onto the tray and taking it out to you.

Your smile at seeing the food made his heart sink. Sending his brain thinking about the way you’d smile at him for cooking for you, if it would be the smile you have now or even bigger, brighter.

“Here we go,” he said, setting the grilled lemon chicken sandwich and chocolate cheesecake down in front of her, “This is my go-to meal,” he smiled, “I hope you enjoy it.”

You try to not let your saliva spill out of your mouth at the food in front of you, “It looks fantastic.”

Jay couldn’t help but continue to smile, pulling his notepad and pen out, “If you ever need anything,” he said tearing the paper from the pad and sliding it onto the table to you, “Or if you just want to talk or get VIP treatment here, give me a text or call.”

You took the paper in your hands and stared at the number. You smiled at him, “I will. Also, tell Yunjin to mind her own business.”

Jay laughed, “Trust me, I plan to.”

—

You didn’t know what scared you more:

1: the amount of times you’ve shown up to the restaurant.

2: the hours you’d spend sitting at the exact same booth every time talking to Jay in between him having customers.

3: the amount of free food you’ve gotten.

Probably the third option if you had to be honest. You’ve become a regular here at Hwa Young, slowly working your way through the menu of fine dishes and bakery items. Loved every single thing Jay has put in front of you and never once made you pay a single dime of your money. You’ve tried to pay every time but Jay always refused, “Can’t make a pretty girl pay, plus a friend of Yunjin is a friend of mine,” he would always say.

But who were you to complain? Free food always tastes better anyway.

You’ve been coming and going as you please to Hwa Young for about a month now. Slowly learning the names and faces of the other workers and even the other regulars. The restaurant finally slowed down as well, being only busy during peak hours.

During that month, you and Jay got closer. You learned his favorite colors, how he loves playing the guitar, and even sang a bit too. Learned where he found his love of cooking and wanted to share that with the world. How he triple majored in computer sciences and business with his culinary degrees. The man was SMART. He told you how he worked on the side with his best friend at a software developing company when he wasn’t running the restaurant, to use his computer sciences degree. You learned all the little things about him that made up who he was, and you loved every moment of it. The small attraction grows into true genuine feelings.

You realized you felt more than just the attraction while texting him one night. You were struggling with some family problems of your own, asking if you could rant to him. He called you not even a second later.

“YN, what’s up? Talk to me.”

You ranted to him without a second thought, feeling so at ease and comfortable with him. Telling him the high expectations they’ve set for you. How they hate that you’re a florist and want to own your own flower and garden shop one day. How they want you to return back to college and be a lawyer, to follow in your father's footsteps as one since you were the only child and don't have that older or younger sibling to take up that mantle for you. You expressed to him how much you hated it, how you sometimes felt you would have no choice but to give in to them.

“YN, don’t feed into that bullshit!” Jay snapped over the phone call, and the sound of wind blew through the speaker, telling you he was outside, “You are your own person, if owning a flower and garden shop is what makes you happy, then by all means, please do that.”

Those words, those exact words made your heart flutter and you knew that your feelings for this man were strong.

Which is how you ended up at the restaurant the same days he was. Even if he was in the kitchen cooking that day, you still showed up. Sending Yunjin, Wonbin, Niki, or Danielle to let Jay know you were there, and one of them sending a plate of food out to you and him sending a text to enjoy your meal and he’d come out and see you soon.

Today was one of those days with him in the kitchen. Yunjin waved at you as you walked in and sat at your normal booth, waving back at her. Sweet Danielle also waved and mouthed she’d go get Jay for you.

Jay flipped his baseball cap backward, using his forearm to wipe the sweat from his face and quickly rewashing his hands before jumping back to the grill. It was Friday night and customers would be piling in soon. He was on a mission to make sure everything went out on time and everything went smoothly tonight. Making sure all the kitchen staff had their heads screwed on tight and in order.

Danielle skipped into the kitchen, leaning her elbows on the countertop, staring at Jay’s back, “YNNIE is here!”

Danielle didn’t need Jay to turn around to know he was smiling wide, “Is she?”

“Yes!” She sang with a tilt of her head, “I don’t know why you’re acting so surprised that she’s here, if you are she is too.”

Jay finally turned around and indeed, had the biggest smile on his face, “I’m always surprised when she’s here.”

Danielle raised a brow, “Oppa, just ask her out already.”

Jay’s heart sank at the same moment Yunjin and Niki walked into the kitchen, hearing what Danielle said.

“Yes hyung, I dunno if I can deal with both of your flirting anymore,” Niki said, making a face as if he was about to throw up, “It’s gross.”

Jay glared at him, “Then the next time I see you flirt with that pretty senior girl from your school I’ll tell her how badly you’ve been pinning.”

Niki straightened up, narrowing his eyes to Jay, “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Niki smiles then, “Flirt all you want!” He pops a ticket to the rack and turns on his heels, “Just ask her out already.”

Jay opened his mouth to fire out a retort, just for Yunjin to chime in, “You should though. It’s been a month.”

Jay rolled his eyes, “Did anyone ask you?”

Yunjin shrugs, “She’s my best friend, you wouldn’t know her if it weren’t for me.”

Jay didn’t have anything to say to it. It was completely true. How could he fight her back on it?

“Anyways!” Danielle said, “What are you making for her tonight?”

Jay thought it over, “Probably something healthy tonight, gave her something really greasy the other day.”

Yunjin scrunches her face, “Maybe bringing her was a bad idea.”

Everything in Jay wanted to scream no, that it wasn’t a bad idea. But just glared at her and then at Danielle, “Are you two leaving Niki and Wonbin on the floor…alone?”

The two girls quickly shot out of the kitchen, realizing leaving those two boys alone wasn’t a good idea.

He quickly made the order on the ticket Niki dropped off and then made your dinner, carrying both plates out, stopping at Niki’s section first to drop off that order and then finding you in your normal spot.

The restaurant was starting to fill up, he had to be quick.

Jay set the plate in front of you and slid into the booth with you, forcing you to move over.

“There’s another side of the booth, don’t you know?” you teased him, taking the sandwich he prepared for you into your hands, “You’d have more room.”

Jay just shrugs and smiles at you, “Am I not allowed to sit beside you?”

You take a bite of the sandwich, releasing a groan at the deliciousness of his cooking and swallowing the rest down with your water, “I mean, you can sit here if you’d want.”

Jay rests his jaw on his hand, his heart doing flips at seeing how much you enjoyed him cooking for you. The happiness on your face every time you were here. The sound of your voice to further proves how happy you were being here and when on a call with him. It had him thinking maybe he should actually ask you out. Finally, take you on a date. To make you feel that happiness because of him completely, and not just by his cooking or talking with you over the phone. To actually spend time with you.

“How much do I owe?” you asked, setting the half of the sandwich you had left onto the plate, “Isn’t it about time that I pay?”

Jay pretended to think about it, “Hmm,” he glanced up at the ceiling, then across the building, and finally back at you, giving you a smirk, “No.”

You roll your eyes, “Come on, Jay. Stop giving me free meals.”

He shook his head and stared into your eyes, wanting so badly to pull you to him and kiss you. But he’d hate for the first kiss to be in his restaurant with him covered and smelling of food grease and sweat.

One of the cooks called for Jay from the kitchen. His eyebrow raised, “I know for a fact he didn’t just call for me across the restaurant as if I couldn’t fire him the moment I got back there.”

You giggled, noticing a small strand of his dyed blonde hair fell out from the hole of his baseball cap. You reached up, twisting it around your finger then tucking it back into the cap.

Jay’s heartbeat quickened, finding that one of the cutest things you’ve ever done so far. His employee's words rang through his head and before he knew it, his mouth was open and was saying, “Why don’t we go out tomorrow night?”

Your face flushed, “L-like on a date?”

He nodded, “Yeah, go out on a date with me, YN.”

The two of you stared at each other, smiles so wide, and small laughter escaped your lips as you nodded back to him, “Yeah, I would love that, actually.”

Jay couldn’t hold back smiling wider as he stood up from the booth, “I’ll text you the details later tonight after we close. Text me your address.” He gave you a wink and walked away.

“Hey!” you shouted at him, “How much is this food?!”

“Free,” he said over his shoulder, passing by Yunjin on the way back to the kitchen, “Make sure she doesn’t pay.”

Yunjin saluted him, her eyes now darting to you and wiggling her eyebrows.

Guess she didn’t mind her business after all.

—

Jay tried his damndest to not stare at the cleavage spilling out of your emerald green dress or notice how fucking sexy your thighs looked squished together at how you rubbed them together out of nervousness. Jay knew his body temperature was more than likely through the roof. If you’d taken a thermometer under his tongue it would break at how hot he felt at that moment. It took everything in him to not stare at you on the car ride here. He almost fell down the steps of your apartment complex when he saw you in that dress with your hair pulled into a cute ponytail. Jay never tripped up on his words (or even his own two feet) before. No female has ever had him at a loss for words, no female has had his heart beating so fast he was afraid it would burst from his chest. What were you doing to him?

Your dress wasn’t even fancy fancy, just a pretty normal everyday summer dress that you fitted with a pair of white Converse that were scuffed up and a bit dirty, but you only dressed this way because you didn’t think Jay was bringing you to the fanciest restaurant you’ve ever seen.

“Jay,” you bumped his shoulder with yours, taking him out of the thoughts of the multiple different ways he wanted to bend you over in that dress. He placed a hand on your back and looked down at you with a smile, “You sure this is okay?” you asked, eyeing the other couples and parties in the restaurant then looking down at your dress, “This plus must be expensive and I feel underdressed.”

Jay wasn’t dressed too fancy either, just in a black button-up dress shirt with black slacks with his dress shoes. It wasn’t fancy like some of the other men in this restaurant, but who cares? You two fit the description the restaurant said on their website. Plus, Jay just so happens to know the owner of this restaurant, so he’ll raise all kinds of hell if you two get kicked out.

“Don’t worry, YN,” he said, “You look sexy, don’t need to worry about your looks.”

You wanted to glare at him but kept your face stern. He knew that wasn’t what you were worried about, “Jay.”

Jay chuckles, pulling you closer to him and resting his hand on your waist. He had to admit, he loved being intimate with you like this. Another feeling he wasn’t used to having. You were fucking him up, that’s for sure. “You’ll come to learn there’s no limits when it comes to me,” he didn’t take his eyes off you, “Princess treatment only.”

You had to look away, biting your lips to keep from smiling so wide. The way he said that made you think he intended to take you out again, on keeping you around. And by god, you hoped so.

Jay hasn’t felt like this in such a long time. Maybe late high school years were the last time he felt like this about someone, to the point of feeling like his chest was going to cave in.

“Jay Park,” the host called, signaling it was finally their turn to be seated.

Jay gently pushed your bag with him to move forward, “That’s me,” he said, giving the host a smirk, “Could you also possibly send Mr. Kim out? I’d like to say hello.”

The host raised a brow, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Before Jay could answer, a man who mirrored Jay’s outfit but with a white dress shirt, slightly rolled up his sleeves and gave a big smile, “He’s the owner of Hwa Young, who has had five stars consecutively since opening.”

The host swallowed and looked down, “My apologies.”

Jay disregarded him, walking over to the one who you were assuming was the owner of this place, “Kim Seokjin,” Jay said, shaking the man’s hand, “Pleasure seeing you again.”

“Well, the pleasure is all mine!” Jin laughed, “Congratulations on your restaurant being a success, I’ll have to stop by soon again.”

Jay nods, “I’ll cook an amazing steak for you.”

Jin clapped his hands, “Please, I love your steak! I actually got excited to see your name on the waiting list for tonight, I hope you find my restaurant lovely.”

Jay nods again, “I knew I had to come try it out finally.”

Jin looks over at you, “And who might this be?”

Jay smiles even more, pulling you closer but more in front of him, “This is YN, she’ll be joining me tonight.”

“Ahh!” Jin takes your hand, giving it a soft squeeze, “I hope you find this place enjoyable too!”

You shyly nod, “I bet I will.”

A few shouts happen from the kitchen and Jin’s smile drops with a sigh, “Duty calls.”

“I know how that is,” Jay said, shaking Jin’s hand once again, “See you later man.”

Jin starts to walk off, “Of course! Also! Tell your sister I said hello!”

And then he was off and out of sight.

“Follow me to your table,” The host said, leading the two of you to a table and leaving you with the menus.

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” You said, looking around the restaurant even more, feeling ten times worse about what the check would look like after the meal was over.

“Uhh, yeah,” he says, looking over the menu. He realized he hadn’t mentioned his sister much, “She’s who my best friend is engaged to, sorry I never made that clear.”

You washed over with embarrassment, remembering how he had told you about her and maybe you just didn’t put two and two together. “Don’t apologize,” you quickly said, sliding your leg to wrap around his under the table, “I remember you talking about her now.”

Jay looks up at you, his heart doing flips at your smile. At the way your ponytail falls over your shoulder and how your breasts are just…out.

He forced himself to look back at the menu, feeling his slacks tightening against him.

You caught him multiple times throughout dinner staring at your chest. He shifts his legs away from yours only for you to chase after them. It made you feel good knowing he was looking at you like a dessert he couldn’t wait to devour. You weren’t the type of girl to go chasing after sex but with Jay? He was making you want to chase anything that had to do with him. You could tell by his eyes he wanted you to.

So who were you to not take this opportunity to tease him?

You kept rubbing your legs against him, folding your arms in a way to push your breasts together or lift them up and Jay clocked each and every moment you started to make after that. Watching how you’d flip your hair off your shoulder to expose your neck more, how you’d run your fingers down your exposed arms slowly in a way of showing him how you’d touch him.

It took Jay everything to get past this dinner, silently begging the waitress to hurry with the check so he could pay and bang you later.

He followed behind you as you walked out of the restaurant, his eyes staring at how the dress hugged your waist, showing the outline of your hips and ass, how the ends of the dress blew in the wind and hit your thighs. He couldn’t handle it anymore. You teased him the entire night. And he wasn’t going to just let you off the hook.

You barely made it to the car before his hands were on your hips and twirling you around, pinning your back against his car, “You think you can just tease me the whole night and walk away from it?” he whispers, pressing his hard length against your stomach, face inches from yours.

This is what you wanted, but you still couldn't stop from acting surprised. You figured he would have at least waited to jump your bones when he dropped you off at your apartment.

“Don’t look so surprised, baby,” he pressed his cock harder against you, “You started this.”

So you just smile at him, “You kept staring,” you teased more, “How could I not get back at you when you have a staring problem?”

Jay chuckles, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger, “You’re lucky I love them bratty,” he lifts your chin up inching his face closer to yours, his lips brushing yours, “I’d like to tame that bratty attitude of yours.”

Your knees buckled, but with his weight on you, it stopped you from falling to the ground in front of him, “Then tame it,” you whispered.

He didn’t waste another moment, pressing his lips so fiercely against yours, moving together in perfect rhythm. His fingers slid from your chin to your jaw, cupping your face as his thumb rubbed against your cheek. The hand at your waist snaked up to your breast, squeezing and loving the way the plush slid between his fingers. He moans against your mouth, pulling away and resting his forehead on yours, “I’d love to tame you in my bed,” he breathed, hand reaching for the car door handle, “Get in the car.”

The drive to his apartment felt like it took forever when it was only a short ten minutes. His lips were back on yours before the door to his apartment even closed. His hands were already pulling down the straps of your dress as he slid out of his shoes and you kicked yours off, leaving them at the front door as he dragged you down the main entrance hall. He stopped to push you against the wall, sliding the top half of your dress down to your waist, revealing the matching emerald green lace bra. You giggled at the look of pure pleasure on his face as he bent down to kiss the tops of your breast, his thumb looping between the fabric of the other and grazing your nipple. You softly moaned at the touch, your thighs rubbing together.

Jay removed himself from you, pulling the dress over your hips and down to the floor. Jay was in complete awe. You planned for this by the pure fact you were wearing a matching laced bra and underwear set. His cock twitched against his slacks. He didn’t want to wait anymore. He takes your hands and pulls you towards him, lips and tongue finding home in your mouth as he drags you further into the apartment, leaving your dress forgotten about at the entrance.

Jay fumbled with the door handle to his bedroom, finally getting it open and dragging you in, closing and locking the door behind him. He pushed you onto his bed, loving the way you looked against his bedsheets. You too were growing impatient, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, dangling it in front of him before tossing it into the void of his room.

“Fuck, baby,” he smirks, sliding his tongue against his cheek, his hand working on the buttons of his dress shirt, “So impatient for daddy’s cock?” You nodded, cupping your breasts and squeezing them, eyes pleading with him. His shirt hit the floor in the same motion of getting on his knees in front of you, taking your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed and his fingers digging into the laced fabric and pulling them down your legs. He hissed at how wet you were, seeing how it pooled from your heat, “So fucking wet, so fucking pretty,” he whispers, rubbing his knuckle against your clit.

You arched your back at his touch, squeezing your breasts tighter, “Jay,” you moaned, “Please.”

“Hmm, please what, princess?”

“Do something…” you begged.

He slid two fingers into your cunt, your back arching more and a gasp escaping your lips, “You sound so pretty,” he cooed, slowly pumping his fingers in and out, “Be a good girl for daddy and you’ll get what you want, okay?” you nodded, and his movements stopped, “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you gasped, rocking your hips against his fingers to feel the friction.

He completely pulls his fingers from your pussy, “Yes what?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whimpered at the loss of his touch, “I’ll be a good girl.”

Jay smirks, sliding his two fingers back inside, “Good girl.” Jay loved how submissive you were to him. How fast you folded under his touch. God, it was so fucking hot. Driving him crazy. He kept his eyes locked on the way his fingers slid in and out of you, the lewd, wet sounds your pussy made when he’d push them in, and how you were moaning for him? It was obvious no man has ever fucked you good. Hasn’t fucked you right. But Jay was fixing to change that.

He latched his mouth to your clit, sucking and licking at the sensitive bud, pumping his fingers faster, curling them after finding your weak spot, and hitting it repeatedly. Making it his mission for you to cum on his tongue. You clenched around his fingers, and he chuckled, “Getting close, baby?”

“Y-Yes, da-daddy,” you whimper, moving your hands down your body and tangling them in his blonde hair, “Please let me cum, daddy, I’ve been good.”

Oh, fucking hell I am done for.

Jay switched out his fingers for his tongue, working his thumb in fast circles at your clit. You pulled his hair, chanting out his name as his tongue pushed in and out of you, licking every inch of your heat until the knot snapped and you came on the muscle. Jay moans against your cunt, licking up every last drop of your cum, “Fuck you taste so good, baby.”

You smiled between your pants, lifting yourself up on your elbows to look down at him, his hooded eyes were filled with so much lust, endearment, and happiness. He smiles as his eyes trace from your leaking cunt up to your face, his hands now unbuttoning his slacks and standing up, dropping both the slacks and his boxers down to the floor. Your mouth watered at the size of him, so wide and long, so gurthly. “I’m going to breed the fuck out of this cunt,” he smirks, pumping himself with his right hand as he crawls on the bed, forcing you to scoot up further onto the bed, “Be a good girl for daddy and spread those legs, ya?”

You bit your lip and spread your legs as you were told, him crawling over you and lining his tip to your entrance, he gave you one final look, his eyes asking for permission. You nodded, “Please, fuck me daddy.”

Jay chuckles and smirks at you again, slowly pushing himself into you, both of you releasing a gasp when he bottoms out, “You feel so good,” he groans, slowly sliding himself out, and quickly snapping back in. He didn’t wait to give you time to adjust to his size, he couldn’t wait. You feel too good and so tight around him. Squeezing his cock with such pleasure, how could he not move? Wanting nothing more than to split this cunt apart with his dick.

Jay worked himself faster inside you, taking your hands and pinning them above your head, leaving kisses on your neck and trailing them up your jaw, nipping at the skin as he did so. You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing them tightly, “F-feel s-so good d-daddy,” you moan, tilting your head to the side to give him more access to your neck.

“Hmm, fucking you so good you can’t speak without a stutter?” he pumped himself faster, completely taking your hands in his, squeezing them tight, “Haven’t ever been fucked this good, have you?”

You shake your head, “Only you.”

“Fuck, yessssss,” he hisses, his hip bones knocking into yours, surely leaving bruises to appear in the morning. Jay lifts up, removing your legs from his waist and flipping you over, raising your hips up and shoving your face down into the pillows, “Fuck you look so pretty face down ass up for daddy,” he growls, digging his fingers into your waist as he fucked into you, wrapping his legs around yours to spread them out wider. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not with how tightly your cunt squeezed around him, “Finna cum, baby,” he breathed, “Gonna fill this pretty cunt so full of my cum,” he flung his head back, “Wanna breed this pussy so fucking bad.”

“Cum inside me,” you lifted up to look at him, seeing how fucked out his face was, how blown out his pupils were, his bottom lip swollen from how hard he must have been biting it to keep himself calm, “Breed me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, “Baby don’t talk like that to me, you’re driving me crazy.”

You pushed your ass up against him, wanting to feel him as deep inside you as possible, “Please.”

He couldn’t hold out anymore, not with you begging for him to cum in you. He was folding. Jay's thrusts got sloppy, giving it a good two more pushes and he was spilling into you. His hips smacked to your ass, trying to break the barrier of keeping him from completely tearing your pussy apart as he came deep. It didn’t help that you were pushing back against him as if you, too, wanted him as far and deep as possible.

Once he came down from his high, he laid his chest to your back, rolling you both over to your side and pulling a blanket over your bare bodies. His cock was still buried in your cunt, but you didn’t care. He held you close, hands gently tracing up and down the side of your waist as he left soft kisses on your shoulder, “Get some rest, YN.” You didn’t realize how tired you were until those words. He finally slipped out from you, quickly climbing out of the bed and slipping out the room but quickly returning all the same with a warm towel in his hand, “Let me clean you up first.”

Jay pulled back the blanket, and spread your legs, gently pressing the warm towel to your heat, wiping you clean. You felt so loved in this moment. You’ve hooked up with plenty of guys before, but none of them has taken care of you like this afterward. Or hell, take care of you during. It was different, a good different, but it still didn’t stop you from asking him why.

Jay just laughs, “I told you there’s no limits when it comes to me, princess treatment only.”

Also because you’re making me want to do things I’ve never done for anyone else.

This was also a first for Jay, doing aftercare for someone. Usually, after he fucks he kicks the women out of his room and goes on about his day normally. But you? You make him want to take care of you.

Once you are clean, Jay tosses the towel into his dirty clothes hamper and climbs back into bed with you, pulling you close to his chest and making sure you are covered enough with the blanket, pressing a kiss to your forehead. And soon enough, you both fell asleep.

—

You woke up the next morning before Jay did. You slowly rolled over to see him lying on his chest, both arms pushed underneath the pillow and soft snores escaping his lips. You smiled at him, gently pushing his dyed hair from his face.

Your stomach growled, a bit too loud for your liking, scared it would wake him up, but he just kept snoozing. You slowly climbed out of his bed, taking his boxers and pulling up up and over your hips and taking it upon yourself to open his drawers, taking out a gray sweatshirt and pulling it over your head. It was an oversized fit, but it was comfy and smelt like him.

After everything Jay did for you last night, the least you could do was make breakfast for him. He owned a five-star restaurant and was an amazing cook, he had to have plenty of things to make for breakfast. You carefully tipped toed to his door and slipped out, thinking about the possible things you could make. Some sausage and bacon and eggs. Maybe pancakes or waffles—or even both—with some syrup and butter. Your mouth watered at all the breakfast food items.

Before you could turn the corner of the hallway, you smelt food alright being made and your foot kicked something on the floor. You quickly looked down to whatever it was you kicked to see…a baby toy??

You quickly looked up as you rounded the corner, seeing four pairs of eyes on you and a baby sitting in a high chair in the kitchen.

You felt your face heat up. Who are these people?! What are they doing in his apartment? Why is there a baby here? Did he secretly have a kid and not tell you? The baby had his nose, and she even smiled like he does with one corner of the lip curling upwards. You all just stared at each other, specifically the woman sitting in front of the baby.

The silence is broken when the male standing behind the woman laughs, his head whipping to the dark red-haired male sitting across from the woman at the table, and the other one at his side, “You both owe me a hundred bucks!”

The woman turned around and faced the one behind her, slapping his arm, “You took a bet on it?!?”

The slap didn’t even faze him as he kept smiling, “Fuck yeah I did!”

She turned and faced back at you with concern on her face, “I am so sorry about them.”

You were at a loss for words, mostly out of pure confusion.

“Hey, baby,” Jay’s soft voice said, him appearing at your side and leaning against the archway of the wall, “Was wondering where you went.”

One of the males cleared their throats, and Jay’s smile faded as he turned and looked at everyone in the kitchen.

The woman crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes down at him, “Got something to tell us?”

Jay shrugs, trying to play off this awkward situation, “No?”

The one with the moles on his face stood from the table, also crossing his arms, “We have rules here.”

Jay was the one laughing now, “This is my apartment.”

“Yeah, but we all pay the bills here too!” The woman snapped, “The three stooges even took a bet on you, big brother.”

Big brother…That’s his sister.

You quickly looked at him, pleading with your eyes for him to explain. He sighs, placing a hand on your back, “Everyone this is YN,” he takes a deep breath in, “YN, this is my sister __, her fiancé, and my best friend Jake is behind her. Heeseung is the redhead and Sunghoon is the other. These are my roommates and childhood friends.”

You looked at each of them and it made sense. You noticed last night there were more doors on either side of the hallway. You should have known he had roommates. You just didn’t think it was the same people he talked about to you. Your eyes fell back to the baby girl, her chewing on the spoon she held in her small hands.

“And that precious bundle of joy,” he said pointing a finger to the baby, “Is Hwa Young, my niece.”

Hwa Young. He named his restaurant after his niece.

Any worry finally left you. Watching as Jay walked around you and up to Hwa, her little smile growing big the closer he got to her. Her arms reaching out and cooing for him. Jay picked her up from the high chair, holding her tightly to his chest and pressing kisses all over her small face. Her hands grasped at his white shirt for dear life as her giggles filled the apartment.

You studied them—all of them— as they watched Jay and Hwa. You could tell by the looks of endearment that everyone in that kitchen was a family, and you were the outsider.

“YN!” His sister called to you and waved you over, “Please come join us, it’s not every day my brother lets us meet his dates.”

You slowly walked across the living room and into the kitchen, getting a better look at the people around you. Jay and his sister looked so much alike, mostly in their noses. It was obvious Hwa got the Park nose gene. Jake wrapped his arms around her shoulders, leaning his head against her. Hwa had his eyes and a lot of his facial structure, an exact copy and paste beside the nose. “Jay actually never lets his dates stay overnight,” Jake said, clearly poking fun at Jay, “We made a bet on if you were still here or not.”

Jay shot daggers at his best friend, “Why the fuck are you three making those stupid ass bets?!”

Sunghoon shrugged, “Kind of hard not to when we all wake up to see an extra pair of shoes and a green dress in the hallway.”

Fuck. The dress. You and Jay both had the realization of the forgotten dress, looking at each other with embarrassment.

“Maybe next time, don’t leave clothes in the main entrance, stupid ass brother.” his sister teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

Jay stuck his tongue out back, “Shut it, stinks.”

The kitchen became loud, but so full of life as the five of them bickered back and forth but still laughed and smiled all the same.

“YN,” his sister calls for you, slinging Jake’s arms off her shoulders and standing from the chair, “Do you need extra clothes? You can borrow some of mine.”

You nodded, smiling at her, “I’d like that actually.” She took your hand and dragged you into what you assumed was her and Jake’s bedroom. A small crib sat in the corner of the room beside a dresser. She pulls out a pair of sweatpants and panties, “I don’t know how you feel about wearing another female's underwear, but I don’t mind at all. It’ll just be until we can wash the clothes you came here in.”

You accepted the clothing, “No this is perfect, thank you for being so sweet to me.”

She smiled, “I apologize for my brother, you looked…shocked to see all of us. I’m assuming he didn’t tell you.”

You shook your head, “I knew of you guys, just not that…”

“We all lived together?” you nodded again, “Yeah, Jongseong is very protective, to say the least. He more than likely didn’t tell you upfront because of that protection.” You gave her a confused look, what could Jay be so protective about?

“It’s about Hwa and __,” you turned to see Jake walking in, “Jay is super protective over his sister and niece. Honestly, probably even you too, considering you stayed overnight.”

You tried to not blush, “I am assuming that’s not something that happens here?”

They both shook their heads, “Jay normally kicks them out right after,” his sister sighs, “But you’re different. He talks about you all the time.”

Okay, NOW you were blushing. He talked about you? You couldn’t believe it.

Jay yells something at Sunghoon about messing up pancake batter, causing the two in front of you to laugh.

“Guess we should go back to make sure he doesn’t kill Hoon,” Jake said and pressed a kiss to his fiancé's forehead.

“Welcome to the circus, YN,” she said, giving you a wink, “I am actually really happy you’re here. There’s too much testosterone in this place.”

Jake chuckles as you both follow him out of the room, you slipping into the bathroom to change into the clothes she gave you and returning back to the kitchen. You watched the five roommates banter back and forth. Teasing and laughing as breakfast was being made. Little Hwa sat in her chair eating cereal without a care in the world.

It was obvious the bonds these five had ran deep. You kind of felt bad to just stomp on in. But they all accepted you. Teasing Jay about you and you about him. After a while, you too started teasing and laughing along with them, as if you, too, grew up with them.

Jay wrapped his arm around you, resting his arm on the back of the chair you sat on, his thumb making figure eights on your shoulder, “It’s not too late to back out, you know,” he whispers to you, his eyes glued to Heeseung as he picked up Hwa and spun her around, placing a kiss to her cheek. You felt Jay tense up and stayed that way until Hwa was being held gently to Heeseung’s chest, “There’s still time to bounce out.”

You looked up to him, placing a hand on his knee, “I’ll gladly join this circus.”

Jay smiled and pulled you in for a quick kiss. The other men groaned and made gross sounds, “Shut up! Specifically you Jake! I don’t wanna hear it!” Jay snapped.

Everyone laughs. You could indeed get used to this little chaotic circus.

—

You’ve bounced in and out of the Park/Sim/Lee residence over the next couple of weeks. You felt at home there, mostly after getting to know each of them a bit better. Specifically Jay’s sister. She was probably the happiest one to have your presence there.

You and Jay have also gone on multiple dates since then and have not only made love to you in his bed but also your own, taking care of you each and every time. It was pure bliss, truly.

The only issue was…he’s yet to ask you to be his girlfriend. Which honestly, didn’t completely bother you. But at the same time…did? You’ve seen the way other women look at him when the two of you go out. You see how they drool over him at his restaurant. To say you were jealous was an understatement. Jake has told you the old stories about them going out to clubs and bars during their college days. How they were back in high school. Jay was always a heartthrob. You wanted that power to call him yours. Of being his. To go out and be able to show him off to the world. To hit up clubs, bars, and parties with him wrapped around you.

And that’s exactly how you found yourself here in your current situation, all because you opened your mouth to his sister, her ears perking up at the words: clubs, bars, and parties.

You fiddled your thumbs as you were sandwiched between Heeseung and __, with Sunghoon, Jake, and __’s best friend Shotaro, sitting across from you.

Jay stood at the edge of the table, his pen touching the notepad, “Run that by me one more time,” he said with a dead calm.

“I said, corn lover,” his sister said through her teeth, “Let’s go out tonight. It’s Friday.”

Jay just stares at her and looks down at his notepad, “You have ten seconds to tell me what you want for lunch or else I am walking away.”

“Dude,” Heeseung groans, throwing his head back against the booth, “We haven’t hit up a club in so long!”

Jay drops his hands to his side, “Yeah because we have jobs and a baby to look after.” His sister just shrugs and crosses her arms, clearly pouting, “Who would watch Hwa?” Jay finally asked, breaking at his sister's will. She just smiles, glancing back at him. He snapped her name, “Who. Will. Watch. Hwa.”

There’s that protectiveness over his niece.

Jay shot his eyes to Shotaro, “I am guessing you aren’t watching her.”

Shotaro smiled and shook his head, “Nope. I am coming with.”

Jay’s eyes shot to Jake, “You better speak up about who is taking care of my niece before I strangle you.”

Jake raised up his hands, “Dude, you think I’d just leave my daughter at home or something?”

Jay kept quiet, but his stare was relentless.

“Oh, for fuck sake,” his sister groans, “Mom and Dad are watching her tonight. They are driving in within the next couple of hours.”

Jay relaxed and let out a sigh of relief knowing Hwa would be taken care of by someone he trusted. His eyes finally land on you, “Are you okay with going out?”

You nod, “It was…kind of my idea.”

Jay smiles softly at you, “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Yes!” The five of them chanted, leaving Jay to walk away with a roll of his eyes.

“Hey!” Sunghoon yelled after him, “I am fucking starving! Come back here!”

Jay flips him the bird, “I already know want you hooligans want, fuck off.”

Laughter fills the booth you all sat at. Jay’s sister hugs you and rocks back and forth, “It’s going to be a blast!”

—

You crossed your arms, standing closer to __, your eyes searching the club.

You all arrived a little over an hour ago but it didn’t take long for Jay, Jake, Heeseung, and Sunghoon to be on the dance floor with alcohol in their hands. Shotaro wrapped his arm around her shoulder, rocking her back and forth to the club music as he took a sip from his beer can.

“Why aren’t you two out with the others?” you asked, clinging to her other side, eyes finally landing on the boys on the dance floor. They laughed and sang to the music and drank their alcohol, tossing their hands in the air and jumping when everyone else did.

She smiles at you, “As you’ve been told, those four are attached at the hip, they do everything together. I’ve been out with them enough times to let them have their moment first, they’ll come running back when they get it out of their systems.”

You just nodded, seeing how obvious it was that this friendship ran deep, that you were still an outsider.

“Don’t look so sad, YN,” Taro nudges you, “They’ll come running when they miss the girls, they always do.”

“It’s mostly when one of them breaks off, the others follow like ducklings or head back to me,” she laughs, “But things are different now, you’re with us.” she wraps her arms around you, squeezing you, “You make my brother happy, I haven’t seen him like this before.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just smiled, feeling happy that you made a change in him.

“Anyway the real question is why aren’t you two drinking?” Taro asked, raising a brow, “I feel alone over here.”

You wanted to drink, but you were expecting to do it by Jay’s side or even with __, but she wasn’t drinking, so you just clung to her side.

“Well,” She started, giving a small shrug.

“You aren’t pregnant again are you?!” Taro quickly pulled her to him, “Please tell me if you are!”

“No!” she snapped, pushing her best friend slightly, “But we are actively trying…when we can. So I do not want to have any alcohol in my system.”

It made sense. So Shotaro nods and wraps his arm back around her, “Whatever you say, princess.”

You find the boys in the crowd again, seeing a hoard of girls now focused around them, “Guess they won’t be coming back to us soon…” you sigh.

She looks out into the crowded dance floor and laughs, “We have beautiful men, what can we say?”

Jake gave the females a small, “Sorry ladies, I have a fiancé and a child. I’m a taken man.” He shrugs his shoulders, making eye contact with __, “Actually she’s standing over there and I miss her, so bye!”

Heeseung groaned at the loss of Jake, but reached his hands out to the ladies, “We won’t leave ya lovely ladies here, dance with us.”

They laughed and cooed as they surrounded themselves around Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon. But Jay was off on another planet.

He was watching you.

He watched as Jake arrived at you three, his arms wrapping around his sister and kissing her, watching how you smiled at them.

The women in front of Jay placed their hands on his biceps and shoulders, talking to him, but their words went in one ear and out the other. He was too focused on you.

Before you, Jay would dive right into whatever these girls were offering him. To drink and get drunk and either take one of them to his bed or find himself in one of theirs. But ever since he saw you, it’s only been you.

You made eye contact with him, your smile fading seeing how the other girls clung to him. But Jay only smiled at you, taking the girl's hands and pulling them off him, “Sorry, I have to go,” the girls pouted, asking him to stay, “I belong to someone else,” he said, his eyes filling with endearment for you, “She’s waiting for me.”

Sunghoon grabbed the girls, pulling them towards him, giving Jay a wink, “Go to her.”

Jay pushed his way through the crowd, eyes still locked on you. He loved the cute little black skirt you were wearing, loved how it fitted so tight against your thighs, shaping your hips perfectly. Love how the black tank top was also fitted, cupping your breasts nicely and showing off a bit of your tummy. It was sexy and he had to admit, he was jealous knowing his friends and other men in this club were seeing you like this. So dolled and hot. It was making his temperature rise and his pants to grow tighter. He wanted you. Not just in a sexual way at this moment, but all of you. You do something to him, drive him crazy, and he’s falling hard for you.

He crashed hard into you, pulling you so tightly against him, hands cupping your face and pressing his lips to yours. Even though he was only away from you for a short time, he missed you. You could taste the alcohol on his lips mixing with the taste of his vanilla chapstick and the smell of his cologne. It was intoxicating, making you drunk just off him.

His sister, best friend, and Shotaro all cooed at the two of you, “How cute!”

Jay chuckles against your lips then rests his forehead against yours, sliding his hands down to your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours, “Let’s get away from these heathens,”

“Heathens?!” his sister scoffs, “As if!”

Jay smiles at his sister, quickly reaching over and ruffling her hair, “You'll always be a heathen, stinks.” Before she could start protesting, Jay was pulling you off to the other end of the club, his friend's laughter fading out as the distance grew.

“Where are we going?” you asked him, squeezing his hand tighter and smiling so wide.

“Away from public eyes, or well, my family's eyes,” You raised a brow, confused. But your question came with the answer when he pulled you into the corner of the club, pressing your body against it, face making contact with the cool wall. Jay snapped his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard cock against you, “I need you, I can’t wait much longer,” he ran his hands down your waist and to your thighs, “You’re so sexy, I hate knowing everyone else is seeing you in this outfit.”

You purposely dressed this way, not for everyone else, but for Jay. You wanted to look good for him, wanted him to fall to his knees for you, and it seemed to be working.

He placed kisses on your neck, breathing your scent in, “Fuck I love it when you wear this perfume, it gets me going.” You also purposely wore this perfume. It was Jay’s favorite and every time you’ve worn it he always ended up balls deep inside you. He loves it and can’t get enough of it, “You make me so crazy, baby.”

Jay needed to feel you…right now. His hands worked their way back up your thighs, pulling the skirt up and over your hips, quickly working fast to unbutton his pants and push them and his boxers down far enough to pull his length out, rubbing the tip against your clothed cunt.

“Jay,” you gasp, pressing your fingers into the wall, “Someone might see.”

“It’ll be quick,” he moans in your ear, “It’s very dark in this corner, no one will even notice,” his index finger pulling your panties to the side, feeling your slick pool onto his fingers, “Plus you're already so wet for daddy, what kind of man would I be to not satisfy his woman?”

His woman?

Jay pumped his index finger in and out of your cunt, licking his lips at how wet you were, he didn’t even need to prep you. Jay wasted no more time, lifting your hips high enough and prodding your entrance with his tip, slowly pushing in until the tip kissed your cervix, “Fuck you’re so wet for me,” he moans again, taking a deep breath in before sliding all the way out and pushing himself back in, “so fucking wet.” Jay was able to pump himself inside you with ease, leaning his chest to your back and hands resting at your hip, pushing you down with each thrust he made. If this was to be a quickie, then he needs to be well, quick.

You bit your tongue in an attempt to drown out your moans, probably not needing to anyway since the music in the club was so loud, but still you did it anyway, being scared of getting caught. But Jay was loving this, relishing in the pleasure of the possibility of getting caught. It was exciting. “My girl, being so good for me, taking me like this.”

“But,” you gasp, “I’m not your girl—“ moans out in pleasure from him picking up speed, “girlfriend.”

Jay was taken aback at your words, what do you mean you weren’t his girlfriend? You’ve been seeing each other for a while now, was it not so obvious you two were together? Jay realized then maybe you just need that reassurance, that physical label. Which was fine, Jay didn’t mind making it official official. He would be so happy to do so. Anything for you.

“Baby, you’re mine, got it? We’re dating. You belong to me, and I belong to you.”

You smirked, resting your body completely against the wall and hiking your ass higher, giving your boyfriend more access to fuck into you harder. And Jay did, he picked up speed and slammed his hips into you harder, squeezing your hips and digging his nails into your skin as you clenched around him, “Baby, I won’t last much longer if you keep squeezing me like that, please keep squeezing me, fuck it feels so good.”

You clenched around him again and his moans filled your ear, his head resting against yours as he panted and chanted out your name, his thrusts becoming sloppy but unrelenting. You welcomed his seed as it spewed inside you, painting your walls like an art piece.

Jay smirked as he slowly pulled out and replaced your panties and pulled down your skirt, “Let’s return to the others now, ya?” he asked, readjusting his pants back into place, “I want to show off my girlfriend.”

You took your hands in his, smiling at him as he led you back into the heart of the club.

—

“Absolutely not,” Jay said, waving his hand at Jake to move out of the way from the TV, “You make the perfect window, MOVE!”

Jake rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, “Come on man please!”

You were lying on the couch with Jay, sitting between his legs with your back to his chest. The two of you were enjoying a horror movie of a masked killer when Jake stepped into the frame.

Jay flung his head back into the armrest, “Dude, ask someone else.”

Jake clicked his tongue, “I’ve asked everyone. Hee and Hoon are obviously at work, Shotaro is out of town for today for his job, you’re the only one who can watch Hwa tonight.”

Jake was desperate and it was obvious, “What’s got you so desperate for?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows, “Got a hot date?”

You love that you’ve finally gotten closer with everyone in the apartment to the point of joking and teasing like they do with each other. You can even just randomly show up, knock on the door and they let you in like you belong there. You and Jay also have been officially a couple for three months now, and life with Jay has been perfect. You’ve never been this happy.

Jake smirked, “I do, actually.”

Jay groans, “You just want to fuck my sister, brother. Not allowed.”

Jake narrows his eyes, “I am engaged to her? I knocked her up?? I’m allowed to fuck her? Brother I haven’t had sex in almost two weeks, I’m desperate here.”

“Dude,” Jay snapped, “Stop talking, I don’t want to hear it.”

The two boys started their normal banter. You found it cute, honestly. Seeing Jay all worked up and being overprotective while Jake does all the teasing.

“Jay,” Jake said, putting his hands together in a praying format, “Please, we don’t trust anyone else with Hwa but you and YN. Plus if you say no to me, __ is just going to beg you, and you can’t say no to her.”

Jay knew he was right, he couldn’t tell his sister no. Never was able to, clearly, she’d never listen anyway, hinting at the fact she broke the off-limits rule and fucked his best friend and well, here they all were now.

“We’ll watch her,” you answered for Jay, “Enjoy your time with __.” You didn’t mind watching Hwa, it honestly gave you more time to spend with her. She was always either attached to Jake, __, or Jay. Sometimes with Heeseung and Sunghoon, but mostly with her parents and uncle.

Jay pinched your thigh and was ready to protest, but the deed was done. Jake clapped his hands, “Thank you so much!” Jake raised his hands in victory, walking towards his room, “I’m getting so pussy drunk tonight.”

“Sim Jaeyun!!” Jay snapped, taking a pillow from behind him and tossing it across the room at Jake, completely missing from Jake sliding to the side and rushing into the room, his laughter being heard from the other side of the door, “Fucking prick.”

You giggled, “Jay, let him have his fun.”

Jay scoffed, “He just wants to get her pregnant again.”

You sat up and turned to look at him, “Is that such a bad thing?” you teased, “You’d be an uncle to two.”

Jay did kind of like the sound of that, mostly if his sister would have a boy and all the things he’d teach that kid and show him how to be cool. But he’d be done for if she’d had another girl. Jake would probably keel over too.

So he waved off the idea, “As exciting as that sounds, this apartment was only meant for four people, there’s six living here. We don’t have the space for a seventh.”

You crawled on top of him, straddling him, “It’s seven including me when I am here.”

He smirks at you, hands now rubbing up and down your thighs as his cock starts to harden, “But you don’t live here.

You traced your fingers up and down his biceps, “This is basically my second home,” you lean forward, brushing your nose against his, “So I am the seventh.” You living here with him didn’t sound like a bad idea, he wouldn’t have to miss you so much. You’d easily just move right into his bedroom with him. The idea was so tempting.

Jay lifted his face up, brushing his lips against yours, “You going to help pay the bills?” he whispered, sliding his thumbs up to the hems of your shorts, slipping them under, “Since you’re the seventh here.”

You softly kissed him, then rubbed your nose against his, “No limits with you, remember? Princess treatment only.”

Jay chucked, taking your neck with his hand and bringing your lips back to his, deepening the kiss. Oh, how bad he wanted to take you back to his bedroom right now. But the front door opening and the sounds of his sister scoffing took that temptation away.

“Is this how you felt when you caught me and Jake?” she scrunches her nose, resting Hwa against her hip, “No wonder you’re always grumpy after, this is gross.”

Jay just shakes his head, rubbing his thumb against your neck, “Get used to it. If I had to deal with it, you have to deal with it too, stinks.”

Hwa’s coos and giggles had Jay smiling, his heart feeling with so much warmth. Jake came out of the room right after, Hwa reaching her arms out for her father, “Hello my sweet girl,” Jake cooed at her, bringing her close to his chest and kissing her chubby cheeks, “How was running errands with mommy?”

“We did all the fun little shopping!” She said, pinching her daughter's cheeks, “All that fun stuff and now we’re going to have fun with Uncle Jay and Aunt YN, now aren’t we?”

Aunt YN…??

“Yeah, a lot more fun than what you’ll be having.” Jay teased, lifting you off him and standing from the couch. The moment Hwa saw Jay walking towards her, her little arms stretched out, little fingers flexing into a fist and back out, speaking little babbles as if saying “Uncle Jay! Hold me!” He took her in his arms, rubbing his nose to her small one, her giggles filling the apartment.

“Right,” his sister said, “You’ll be having a lot more fun than us.”

“Obviously, because Uncle Jay and Aunt YN know how to party, isn’t that right?”

You were still being thrown for a loop at being called Aunt, but you nodded anyway.

Soon enough it was just the three of you in the apartment. Both you and Jay sat on the floor with Hwa as she played with her building blocks.

“Aunt YN, huh?” you said, finally deciding to bring it up.

Jay helped Hwa stack her blocks just for her to push them over and giggle, waiting for him to restock them, “Of course,” he says so casually, “You’re here enough to be considered one. My sister wouldn’t have addressed you as such if she didn’t think you’d fit that title. Heeseung and Sunghoon get called Uncle as well. Plus you love Hwa just as much as the rest of us, it’s perfect.”

You felt your heart warming up at the thought of it, being a part of this little family. Hwa looked over to you, as if she could read your mind, and she smiled, holding her hands up to you. Now you know why Jay is always so ready to burn the world for this little girl. You picked her up and placed her in your lap, her little giggles making your heartache in such a loving way. You pulled her hair from her face, and placed kisses on her soft face.

Jay’s heart immediately beat faster, his hands dropping the wooden block. Oh, he was in love with you. Seeing the way you were with his niece just now was the final piece to the puzzle for him. He’s in love with you.

“Let’s have a baby.”

You whipped your head up to your boyfriend, “What?”

Jay’s eyes dropped from yours to Hwa, watching how her little fingers wrapped around yours, “Did I stutter?”

Your face heated up and you awkwardly laughed, “Funny joke, Jay,” you looked back to Hwa, holding her tighter, “We’ve only been together for a short while, kind of early to be talking about kids, no?”

Jay moved closer to you, taking your chin between his fingers and forcing you to look up at him, “I don’t care how short of time I’ve known you, it would be worth all the while having a baby with you.”

You just smile at him, “Jay, give us a bit more time, we can discuss having children down the line.” Jay chuckles, kissing your lips then sitting back down, “Besides,” you sigh, “You still need to meet my parents.”

Ah, the parents. The two people who do nothing but give you hell. Jay’s face of pure irritation was on display, showing you how he didn’t like the idea, but he knew it was important to you, so he relaxed his face with a sigh, “Name when and where baby, I’ll be there.”

You nodded, making a mental note to call your parents later, being distracted by little Hwa and her yawns, her trying to force her eyes to stay open.

“I think it’s time for someone’s bedtime,” Jay whispers, taking Hwa from you, “I’ll go put her down.”

Jay disappeared into Jake’s and __ bedroom and returned back into the living room just as quickly, carefully shutting the bedroom door behind him. Jay hasn’t been able to get the image of you pregnant with his child out of his head ever since he mentioned it. And oh man, did the picture look sexy. Jay started to realize why Jake felt the way he did about his sister because it’s the way he’s feeling about you.

It made him hard, truly did. His shorts were growing tighter against him. His eyes were glued to your mouth and how your lips relaxed into a soft pout as you stared off at TV. Jay started palming himself and dropped down onto the couch, “Hey, babe?” You turned and looked at him, heat flushing your entire body. Jay barely had sat down on the couch and already had his shorts and boxers pulled down, hand pumping his cock, “We have a problem,” Jay gasped at his own strokes, “I need you to fix it, got too horny thinking how sexy you’d look with my baby in you.” Your mouth watered and rubbed your thighs together. You loved how pretty his hand looked as it rose up and down his shaft, how his veins popped out. Taking notice of how when his hand reached the top, precum would slowly pump out the tip and leak down the side, “Come suck me off, princess, be a good girl for daddy.”

You didn’t even have to think twice before you fell to your knees and took his length in your hand, tongue stretched out and flatting against the head, licking up the dripping precum. Jay hissed, flinging his head back against the couch, “Don’t tease me,” he warns, hand getting tangled up in your hair, “Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you so—“ his words were cut off by you taking him fully in your mouth, your nose touching his pelvis, “Holy fuck baby.”

His fingers clenched tighter in your hair, moving with the motion of you bobbing your head. Jay forced his head down, mouth slacked and panting, watching how your perfect mouth sucked him so good. It was driving him insane. Mostly when you’d flatten your tongue to take more of him down your throat, your gag reflex sending vibrations onto him. Jay was definitely jealous of whoever you gave head to first, because whoever that man was got to experience pure heaven firsthand.

His hair was starting to fall into his face, his free hand reaching up and pulling it back, giving him back his direct line of sight to look at you, only to be surprised at already seeing you staring back at him. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, loving the tears that swelled in your eyes and how you batted them at him, not slowing down your pace at all.

You were going crazy at seeing how blown out his pupils were, how they looked down at you with such pleasure and as if you were the one who put the stars in the sky. You’ve never had a man look at you like this, with so much want and need and pleasure. He has such as much effect on you as you have on him.

“Fuck, princess,” he moans, “Just like that, yeah—fuck—just like that.” This was the best head he’s ever received, and it pissed him off at how fast he was fixing to cum, wanting to relish more of the warmth your mouth gave him but at the same time wanting that release. He was so back and forth, but to his dismay, his cock twitched and threatened to shoot his load, “I’m fixing to cum babe,” he whispers, pressing your head down onto him, “I’m cumming.”

His warm seed shot at the back of your throat, your tongue still rubbing against his shaft as he bucked his hips slowly, chasing out his high.

Once he came by from reality, he pulled your hair, forcing you off his dick and to look at him, “Did you swallow?” you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, showing his cum nowhere in sight, “Good fucking girl.” He continued to yank you by your hair, pulling you up into his lap and pressing his lips to yours in a kiss, “Wanna head to your apartment once Jake and my sister return? I want to fuck you and be as loud as possible.”

You nodded, feeling your panties continue to soak from your juices. You prayed for them to get back faster.

—

Jay bounced his leg, not out of nervousness, but pure anger. Your parents sat across from the two of you, eating their dinner like you two weren’t even in the same restaurant as them. The plan was to meet your parents at this restaurant—that your father chose—at six thirty. You and Jay arrived thirty minutes earlier so your parents wouldn’t have to wait but saw they already arrived and ordered their meal. So now you and Jay sat in silence, waiting for your meals to arrive.

“Would it have killed you to wait for us?” you said with cool calm, making sure the ice that your words were laced with hit them hard, “If you were showing up early you could have called me.”

Your mother glanced up at you, eyes somewhat apologetic, but still filled with no care whatsoever, “YN, honey, you know your father runs a tight schedule. He has a lot of things to do.”

“It’s Saturday,” you hissed, “Last time I checked, Dad has the weekends off.”

Your father dropped his fork onto the plate, piercing his eyes at you, “I am a very busy man, YN. You’re lucky we agreed to this dinner tonight.” Jay locked his jaw and clenched his fingers into his slacks, who the fuck does this man think he is? “But, this is for you, so I apologize for arriving early and ordering before you two arrived. Honestly, I just wanted to enjoy my meal before we… discuss.”

Yeah, discuss my fist plowing through your fucking teeth, old man.

Jay was trying to keep calm, to keep a good poker face. These were your parents, he needed to be on his best behavior for you, mostly with how you’ve told them how they both are. Jay fully understands now why you try so hard for them, they have such high standards.

Your father took one last bite of his meal and wiped his face with his napkin, “So, Jay, was it? Tell me about yourself.”

Here we go…

Jay took a deep breath, feeling calmer after feeling your hand rest on his knee, “Yes sir, I grew up in a smaller town about an hour from here. I own and run a restaurant and work part-time with my best friend at his—“

Your father waved him off, “I already know that bullshit, I meant tell me something about yourself that would help make me believe you’re good enough for my daughter?”

Excuse me?

Jay stared blankly at him, “I don’t quite understand what you mean, sir.”

Your father sat back in his chair, crossing his arms, “Do you think you’re actually worthy of my girl? That your little restaurant and part-time job as a software developer would be good enough?”

“With all respect,” Jay said leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table and clasping his hands together, “I made enough money to support your daughter and be financially stable.”

Your father chuckled, “Yeah, only because you have your sister and best friends living under the same roof as you, in an apartment, might I add. With your niece living there too. You have support.”

What was he trying to get at here? “I am very close with my family and best friends. It made more sense for us to stay together—“

“YN this is exactly why you should have continued going to law school,” your father scoffed, waving off Jay again, “So you don’t end up stuck in a ratty apartment with multiple people.”

“Excuse me?” Jay said as calmly as he could, “My apartment is anything but ratty.”

Your father kept his gaze on you, “My daughter only deserves the best, nothing as low as your income and living situations.”

“Dad!” you snapped, “There’s nothing wrong with the amount of money he makes or his living situation.”

Your father shrugged, finally looking at Jay, “YN, he can’t even keep his natural hair color,” he pointed a finger at Jay’s blonde-silver hair, “And his ears are pierced, is that a type of hooligan you want to see yourself with? Stuck in an apartment with multiple other people and a baby? He won’t be able to support you, mostly when you go back to law school and quit your low job at that gardening shop.”

Jay stood to his feet, fists resting on the table, “When she goes back to law school? As in forcing her?”

Your father smirked, “Yes, I’d be paying for it. She needs to follow in my footsteps.”

“But she doesn’t want to,” Jay snarled.

Your father sighs, looking at Jay with such disappointment, “You and your fucked up family won’t ever be good enough for my daughter.”

You quickly grabbed Jay’s arm, using all your strength possible to keep him from walking around the table. Jay was livid. “Talk shit about me all you want, but don’t you dare speak ill of my family!”

“Jongseong,” You called for him, your voice being enough to force him to sit back down in the chair.

“I am in love with your daughter,” Jay said calmly and your heart stopped, he loved you? It wasn’t the way he wanted to confess his love for you, but he was desperate to have some advantage over your father, to prove himself, “I may not make millions, but I make enough to give her the life she wants, a life filled with happiness and no worries. I will always support her dreams and protect her with my life and it goes the same for my family, they love and adore her. I may not have a big fancy house, but I don’t want that. I love the little apartment I share with my sister, my niece, and my best friends. I wouldn’t ask for a better place or people to live with, and if that apartment is where YN wants to spend the rest of her life in, I’d be more than willing to make that happen, and if she wants to be a florist and own her own shop? I’d spend every drop of money I earn to build her a shop.”

You slid your hand down to his hand, twisting your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. Jay looks at you and gives you a small smile, rubbing his thumb over the top of your hand, “I love her, so much. No amount of money or where she came from will ever change that. She’s my soulmate, I am lucky to have her.”

Your mother’s heart was skipping a beat, face softened at the two of you. She quickly looks over at your father, placing a hand on his bicep, “Dear, they are happy.”

Jay looks back at your father with pleading eyes.

“No,” he said with a stern voice, “Love isn’t enough. Not when it’s clearly obvious he only wants what’s between her legs to whore about—“

You weren’t able to stop Jay this time. He moved too fast for you to even register what was happening. One moment your father was sitting in his chair, the next he was on the floor, Jay on top of him with his fist connecting to your father's face.

This…This was Jay’s protection. You’ve heard the stories of how Jay has fought multiple guys growing up when they’ve hurt or talked ill of his sister and friends. Jay was a protector and stood by it.

But this time was different, this was your father he was beating the shit out of, not some random boy on the street.

“Jay!” you yelled, rushing to him and grabbing his shoulders to pull him back, “Stop!”

Jay lifted his fist up, ready to throw another punch but stopped because you asked him to. He took a few deep breaths, staring at your father's bloody nose, “Don’t speak about her like that ever again.”

Your father just smirks, grabbing a handful of Jay’s dress shirt and using all his strength to punch Jay back in the face, the ring your father always wore cutting a gash on Jay’s cheek.

Jay moved to hit him again, but your cries and hands pulling and pleading with him to stop forced him to stand up and back away. His hands found home on your waist and pulled you close to his chest, eyes burning holes in your father.

He stood up with the help of your mother, wiping away the blood from his nose with his sleeve, “No daughter of mine will date such a delinquent! I’ll have his restaurant shut down!”

You pushed Jay off you and stormed to your father, digging your index finger into his chest, “I love that delinquent and I will continue to date him with or without your permission. And you won’t do such a thing as close his restaurant. I know about your dirty deeds as a lawyer, I’ll expose your bullshit so fast!”

“You wouldn’t dare,” your father pressed.

“Fucking try me.” you spat, stepping away from him and giving your mother one last look with apologetic eyes, and walking away, pulling Jay behind you.

She loves me??? She loves me…

Jay couldn’t believe it, “You love me?”

You pulled him out of the restaurant and let go of his hand, “Take me home.”

Jay followed behind you, knowing you were anything but happy right now, “Baby, let’s talk—“

“Take. Me. Home.” You stood at the passenger side door of his car, hand on the handle waiting for him to unlock it.

Jay felt his heart sink, scared shitless about what was to come. He brushed your hand out of the way, unlocked the door, and opened it for you, closing it as soon as you got in.

He just heard you say you loved him indirectly, and now he was terrified he was about to never hear you fully say it to him.

—

The ride back to your apartment was silent, and with each trembling step up the stairs to your front door, Jay grew more scared. He’s never been more scared of anything in his entire life. Losing you? it would end him.

He took you leaving the door open as you walked in as a good sign that he was welcome to come in, so he did. Carefully closing the door behind him and locking it, his hands sweaty as he opens his mouth but no words come out. He knew he had to say something—anything.

You disappeared to the bathroom and returned back out with a first aid kit, “Sit down, please.”

Jay nods, pulling the kitchen table chair out and sitting down, watching you with careful eyes as you pull a chair up closer to him, opening the first aid kit and pulling out some ointment, alcohol wipes, and a bandaid.

You cleaned your hands off and then grabbed another wipe, bringing it to Jay’s cheek and softly dabbing at the cut, “He got me pretty good, didn’t he?” Jay said, trying to make light of the situation, his smile only fading when he saw you weren’t entertaining it. You continued to clean up the wound, dabbing the ointment on the cut and carefully sticking the bandaid to his cheek. He grabbed your wrist before you could move away from him, “Baby, talk to me. Please.”

You looked into his cocoa eyes, “You hit my father.” You pulled your wrist from his grasp, closing the kit and standing up walking back to the living room.

“What was I supposed to do, YN?” He scoffs, chasing after you, “Let him continue to speak about you like that? To let him talk about my family like that?”

You turned to face him, “You could have used your words, not your fists.”

“Right,” Jay chuckles, “Because talking to him was doing so much.”

You knew how your father was, words never meant shit to him. It was always about the money and status. Your father knew using his words was going to be enough to piss off Jay, it’s why he did it, more so in the hopes it would get you to see Jay wasn’t worth it and come back home and fall into the nice pretty line he wants you to walk. You hated that line.

“You don’t understand!” you shouted, “He could ruin your entire life!”

“I don’t give a damn about that!” Jay snapped back, “I know who I am! I have everything I already need and if he decides to try and fuck that over? I say let him try.”

You run your hands through your long hair, getting more stressed by the minute, “I just wanted tonight to go perfect. I wanted my family to see I was happy that I was okay and prayed my father would see that and it would be enough.”

Jay took a step closer to you, brushing his fingers down your cheek, but you took a step back, “Was happy? Was okay? Are you saying you aren’t?” Jay felt like he had the world on his shoulders weighing him down, ready to crush him into the ground.

You shrugged, crossing your arms over your chest and hugging yourself. You didn’t know what else to say at this moment. All you wanted was to prove to your family you were perfectly well off without their help, that Jay was who you wanted and nothing would change it. But Jay letting his emotions get the best of him…

“Please don’t leave me,” he was quick to say, your eyes widening at him, concern on your face that he even thought for a second you’d leave him. Jay was now inches away from you, his hands cupping your face, “I cannot breathe without you. When you’re away from me I feel as if I have no air, that every ounce of it escapes my lungs when you’re not around. I meant it when I said I’m in love with you. My world would end if I ever lost you.”

You wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you, “Jay,” you whisper, “You’re not going to lose me all because of a small fight. You’re stuck with me.” Jay lets out a shaky breath, resting his forehead against yours. He fully understood how Jake felt when he almost lost his sister, how his heart became a pit of despair and ache. “I love you,” you finally said to him, “I don’t want to live without you.”

Jay kisses you suddenly, pulling you as close as possible to his body, “I love you. Please don’t ever let anyone ever tell you how to live your life,” he said between kisses, “I support you through everything.”

You smile against his lips, “Fuck everyone but you, you’re the only one who gets me.”

He smiles back, sliding his hands from your face to your hands, “Fuck everyone but you.”

Jay leads you to your bedroom, his lips finding home on yours again the minute he lays you down. His hands gently roamed all over your body as he one by one removed your clothing as your hands removed his.

Sex with Jay always left you breathless, but the way he was making love to you right now made you feel dizzy and even more breathless, breathing air into your lungs with each kiss he planted on your lips. Feeling on cloud nine with each thrust he made into you as his hands clasped together with yours and pinned them down against the sheets.

He was careful with you, not rough or fast but slow and gentle but still so full of love. He wanted to show you just how much he was in love with you. Yeah rough sex was fucking fantastic, but genuine love-making sex made him feel so whole. Your soft moans of love and pleasure made his body tingle and goosebumps form on his skin. He loved you so fucking much and he prayed you could feel the love he has for you.

“I love you,” you whisper to him as if you could read his mind, “I love you.”

Jay squeezed your hands and rocked his hips a tiny bit faster, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Jay chanted his love for you the entire night and continued so even after he came and laid against you as you slept.

—

Jay pushed his sunglasses back on his face, sweat dripping down his cheeks as he pulled you to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and you wrapping your arms around his waist.

“It only took a year,” he said, giving you a big smile, “But we finally did it.”

“Just in time for the summer too!” Heeseung laughed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and Jay’s arm, “YN’s Flower and Gifts!” he smiled, “Has a nice ring to it.”

Sunghoon popped up behind you, resting his chin on the top of your head, “Just in time for the wedding too!”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jake sighs, “__ was taking way too long to pick out flowers.”

Shotaro glances at Jake, “You both get married next month?!?”

Jay’s sister pinches Taro’s arm, “Listen, I needed the most perfect flowers!! And YN just happens to be the one who is going to give them to me.”

You smile at her, “Damn right!”

“You should have seen the flowers she took care of at the shop she worked at!” Yunjin said, clapping her hands. “YN was born to be a florist!”

You blushed at your best friend, “Stop!”

“No!” she sang, pulling you away from Jay and into her arms, “I’m so proud of you!”

It’s been a year since you and Jay started dating. A year since you’ve found home within his family. It was crazy, silly, and chaotic, but it was perfect.

Not only is Jay’s restaurant as busy as ever and he still worked with Jake part-time too, but he also co-owned your flower shop. When this man said there were no limits with him, he meant it. “I can use your flowers for when we redecorate the restaurant, and we can cater for you when you hold events.” It was the perfect partnership, truly.

“Da-Da!” Hwa cooed, her little legs carrying her over to Jake from her grandparent's side. Jake smiled at her and scooped her up into his arms kissing all over her face.

“Fuck,” Jay sighs, “I still can’t believe she’s already walking and starting to talk.”

“You’re telling me!” Jake said, pulling his fiancé to his side, “We can’t believe it either.”

“Nor the grandparents!” Jay’s mother said, “I remember when the two of you were born, and now you’re both all grown up and I have a grandchild of my own.”

Jay smiled at his mother and father, loving seeing how happy they were for this whole family.

Heeseung and Sunghoon watched Jake and __ cuddle Hwa, Sunghoon nudging Jay’s shoulder, “When are you two having one?”

Jay shot him a glare, “Don’t tempt me.”

You roll your eyes and cling back to your boyfriend, “Should we show them inside?”

He looks down at you, “Excited much?”

You held your finger to your lips, “Super.”

He nods, handing you the keys to the front door.

“Everyone!” you shout at your family, “I welcome you to YN’s Flower and Gifts!” you unlocked the doors and flung them open, leading them inside the shop.

With eyes wide and smiles on their faces, they each trailed around the shop, giving you their congrats and hugs. Jake, __, and Hwa looked around for flowers for their wedding and it honestly made you really happy that you’d have some big part of their wedding.

Jay wrapped his arms around you, laying your head on his chest, “I’m proud of you, ya know,” he said, squeezing you tightly, “This was all you.”

You giggled, squeezing him back. You take a look at every single person in your shop, and your heart fills with so much love, “Was this crazy? Are we crazy?” You couldn’t help but feel a bit crazy. Everything you could have wanted came true, how could you not feel crazy?

Jay lifted his sunglasses up, pulling back his hair as they rested atop his head, “Baby, I don’t feel so crazy when you’re around.” He took your chin between his fingers and had you look up at him, “I love you.”

You smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to reach his lips. Maybe you weren’t so crazy after all.

—tags: @kangnina @ikeuverse @alvojake @jwnghyuns @iicehoon @lhspeachie @kwiwin @jaeyunq @enhaz1 @wondipity @lilyuwon @arunabrak @seunghancore @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @rapmonie2047 @all4moi @all4yoi @heerinnie @lhsvibez @sunghoonmybf @jeiluvey @parksunghoonsgf @velvtcherie @strawberrywonz @in-somnias-world @heexzbae @luvnicho @zeeloveshee @simjyunnie @niniissus @sk8terhoons @pockettwinzz @honeybunnee @simjaeyunramyeons @fakeuwus @eneiyri

#jay bae #jay park #park jongseong #jay x reader #reader x jay #reader x jongseong #jongseong x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #jay smut #park jongseong smut #yeonzzzn writing

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finelinevogue · 6 months

Text

spreading the love

summary - harry’s fans LOVE you

pairing - fiancé!harry x reader

word count - ~2k

The fans absolutely loved you.

Probably more so than Harry sometimes.

You were often the subject headline of news articles that were actually about Harry. You were often asked about in interviews that Harry was doing. You were often stopped before Harry on the streets. Not that Harry minded in the slightest because, well, he understood.

Obviously, no one could love you more than he did but he understood the publics addiction towards you.

You hadn’t come from much and you weren’t a name people knew before you started dating Harry. Somehow, somewhere, along the way you had become a somebody.

And everyone adored you.

Whether it was your kind nature, you loving heart, your gorgeous smile or your generous soul, you never went unloved by anyone. Not even the cruelest hearted person could have anything bad to say about you.

You loved being involved with the fans too. You often gave a lot back to them just because they were the most dedicated and loyal people you knew.

You loved how much they loved your Harry.

“Hello, hello!” You tucked your hair behind your ear as you started your Instagram live.

Your viewers shot up from 3k to 104k in ten seconds - that’s how popular you had become with the fans and media.

“How are we all today? Feeling good? I’m feeling good since it’s a Friday. It’s my weekend off tomorrow.”

Everyone knew that you were an NHS nurse and did so much for the people you worked with and beside, which only added to the cause of people loving you.

ellaking107: what are you doing with your weekend off?💛

“Hi Ella! This weekend I am staying home with Harry. We have got a very boring weekend planned unfortunately. Our bathroom is having a redecoration and so we need to wait for the tile man to pop in at some point so he can start measuring up bits and pieces. I’m sure H will drag me for a run or to a pilates class too.”

You were situated in your lounge, lots of plants and good lighting surrounding you.

harryissmiling101: Where is Harry?

“Ummm, so Harry is currently at his mum’s. Maybe this is too much information, but his mum’s fridge broke and so all her food went off. Harry and I made loads of dishes though last night for her, so Harry’s dropped them all off along with a spare fridge we had. I know… Don’t ask why we had a spare fridge.”

You watched as you cat, Kira, came through the lounge door and hopped up onto the sofa you were sat on. You turned the camera so everyone could see her.

“My child says hello to you all. Don’t you Ki?” You began stroking her little black and white chin. “Oh you’re so gorgeous. I love you so much.”

haileyjudd: Harry or Kira?

“Hailey I can’t believe you’re even asking me that… Hailey said, choose between Harry and Kira. Honey, there’s no doubt about it. Obviously, Kira.” You laughed.

You knew some magazine would twist your words later and make it seem like you and Harry were going through a rocky patch in your relationship, but you knew the truth. Harry was completely whipped for you and there wasn’t a single chance he was leaving you. Ever. Then again, the feeling is very mutual.

Kira came closer to you and sat in your lap, nestling herself deep into the blanket you had draped over the top of you.

jammiiie: Are you single please?

“Hi Jamie, potentially.. maybe… Uh, no. I am not single and this will remain my answer indefinitely.” You smiled, thinking about how clingy Harry would get if you had read that out whilst he was say next to you.

Harry doesn’t get jealous, oh no.

He gets clingy. And you love it.

You love when he’s constantly doting on you; kissing you. He loved on you like he has to remind you your his (even though you always will be).

harriesassemble: Y/N can I ask you a question? My boyfriend told me that I have to shave (you know where) but I don’t feel comfortable doing that. How do I tell him? (Don’t answer if you feel uncomfortable)🤍

“Wait.. Hang on a second..” You spoke slowly, slowing the speed of the comments as you traced back to a comment that caught your attention.

“Hi, sorry I’m not sure what your name is, but I hope you are still here and know I’m speaking to you!“ You re-read out loud the comment posted so everyone knew what you were going to talk about. “So, first of all, girl to girl, if he is forcing you to do something as personal as shaving yourself then, my love, he’s not worth your time or breath.”

ophelialover: oh i am so here for y/n’s girl talk time

harrielover: y/n is so big sister coded

“Don’t do anything that you don’t want to do. Do not force yourself to be making changes to yourself just to please a man, or any significant other for that matter. If Harry ever forced me to make a change to myself I didn’t want, he knows where the door is. Seriously, honey, you’re perfect and never change unless you want to.”

harriesassemble: Thank you!🩷

kingsofharry: You’re amazinf Y/N <33

justkeepdriving: WE LOVE YOU Y/N

liked by y/nl/nofficial and 1,976 others

harriesassemble i can’t believe y/n just followed me i am in shock right now :((( she’s my favourite person in the whole world and everything they said to me this evening was just so special:(( im shaking so bad i love y/n so much❤️

view all 394 comments

harryfan1 OH THIS IS SO COOL

harryfan2 omg you were who y/n was talking to??? congrats!!!!!

y/nl/nofficial You’re amazing!💛

harryfan3 we stan y/n

••••••••••

London was quite busy today.

Lots of tourists bustling through the city as well as the daily commuters wandering around on their lunch breaks.

Harry had decided to take the afternoon off since you also had it off, organising to take you for a bite to eat and a coffee at your favourite cafe.

It was a cafe bookstore, so you got to browse books whilst waiting for your food and then got to sit amongst the books whilst you ate. It was a dream fantasy of yours as a child and you’re grateful someone brought that fantasy to life.

Harry held your hand securely as you wandered through the London streets.

Luckily Harry had secured a paparazzi ban years ago that meant that no paps were legally allowed to take photos of Harry in London, so it was just fan photos that you had to be aware of.

“Angela asked me to give her your number again today.” You said to Harry.

“She’s relentless.” Harry laughed.

“She just wants to know when her future grandson-in law is going to become her in-law.”

“Baby, I’ve told you before - I’m not asking until I’m ready.” He squeezed your hand.

“No, I know. I just want Nana Angela to be alive when we get married.”

“She will be. I promise.”

You both came to a stop at a red pedestrian light. Harry pulled you back slightly, because he knew that you liked to stand far too close to the edge of the pavement.

You looked up to Harry, watching as he took in his surroundings through a pair of brown sunglasses.

“C’mere a minute.” You said, directing his head to face you.

You reached up and unclipped your claw clip from his hair and ruffled the locks until he had a messy middle parting. You bit the clip between your teeth as you messed with his hair.

“What was wrong with m’hair?” He chuckled.

“Prefer it down like this.” You shrugged your shoulders and clipped the claw clip to the top of your jumper.

You smiled at your handy work.

He looked even more handsome now.

As you crossed the road, you spotted someone with a Love on Tour tote bag. It was one of the newest ones. It was being carried by a girl in her early 20s, maybe.

You poked Harry and pointed him towards the girl.

“She had good taste in music.” He joked.

You didn’t mean to follow this girl, but only happened to stop at another pedestrian red light next to her. You stood beside her and noticed she had headphones on.

You couldn’t help yourself from nudging her shoulder. As you prodded her, she gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth in shock. She quickly took off her headphones and giggled a hi out.

“Love the tote bag!” You smiled brightly.

“Ha ha thank you! Oh my God I can’t believe you’re actually here right now.” She laughed.

“Yup. Both of us.” You pulled Harry a little closer into you.

“Hi, you alright?” He spoke shyly, as ever when he is introduced to someone new.

“This isn’t real! Holy shit.” The girl laughed the situation off. “I was nearly not going to wear this tote bag today as well.”

“Well it must be a good luck charm then.” You laughed. “Which show did you go to?”

“Wembley night 4.”

“Ahh!! The best one then!” You exclaimed, Harry chuckling from behind you.

You always did this.

You managed to make friends with absolutely anybody on the streets, over the smallest of connections. You especially loved making friends with Harry’s fans.

“Well I think so, but I might be biased.” She shrugged.

“It was one of our favourite shows, wasn’t it H?” You nudged him into the conversation, knowing that he struggles with that.

“Yeah definitely. Wembley was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.” He nodded with a smile, looking at you more so than the girl. “I’m glad you enjoyed it and thank you for the support, it means a lot.”

You internally smiled at the small spiel that you had prepped with him for occasions where he might bump into a fan.

“What was your favourite part?” You asked curiously.

“Sign of The Times in the rain.”

“Oh stop! You’re going to make me force Harry into to going on another tour ASAP just to experience that again.”

“Oh, because of course I can control the rain too love.” Harry laughed, which made you both chuckle with him.

“Shut up.” You judged him in the ribs. “Well it was lovely to meet you…”

“Emma.”

“Emma.” You smiled.

“Thank you for your continued support, Emma.” Harry added. “Would you like a photo?”

“Uh.. Y-yes? Yes please! If that’s okay with you?” Emma politely checked.

“Of course. Just as long as you wait a little bit to post it so our location isn’t instantly publicised.”

“Yes. Of course! Thank you.”

“Here, honey, give me your phone.” You held out your hand, thinking that she would have wanted you to take a photo of just her and Harry.

“You have to be in it too, Y/N!” Emma exclaimed.

“Yeah, Y/N/N.” Harry rolled his eyes at your silliness. “C’mere.” Harry roped his arm around your waist and brought you to stand slightly in front of him. Emma was directly next to you and you all smiled as she lifted her arm to take a selfie. Harry’s cheek was pressed near against yours.

“They okay?” Harry asked.

“Perfect. Thank you guys so much.” Emma smiled so brightly.

After you parted ways you couldn’t help but imagine how electric Emma must be feeling right now. Harry seemed to be happy too, because you were happy after such a heartwarming conversation.

Positive interactions just made for better days.

Later, Emma would post that photo and the comments were even more wholesome.

comment 1: the way y/n and harry are stood so close to each other

comment 2: the fact harry has his literal cheek pressed against y/ns makes me WEEP

comment 3: they look so happy i will cry

•••••••

Another place where you would find wholesome content from the fans was the world of social media.

Normally, with Harry’s previous relationship’s, they would get absolutely hated on social media. There would always be something that would get dug out from someone’s past which meant they weren’t “right” for Harry. All of it was bullshit and Harry’s previous relationships had ended because he never felt “right” with anyone.

Until you.

You were now sat with Harry’s family around a small fire pit in Anne’s back garden.

Her lovely house had a beautiful garden that was perfect for dinner evening drinks and conversations. You often think about returning here with Harry and his last name one day.

“Top up, Y/N?” Anne asked, holding out the bottle red wine up to your wine glass that empty on the table.

“Oh, no thanks Anne.” You warmly smiled.

You were comfortably nestled in Harry’s lap with a blanket drawn over the two of you. Harry was nursing his own red wine with one hand, whilst the other supported your back from where you were sat sideways across his legs. Your head was nuzzled just below his chin and your hands were busy fiddling with his necklaces.

“You okay, m’love?” Harry asked you, so only you could hear.

“Mhm. Wine has made me sleepy.”

“Rest if you need to, i’m right here.” He kissed the top of your head.

You pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket and opened it up to Twitter.

You followed a multitude of Harry’s fans on Twitter, simply for the shits and giggles. It had become a challenge to see who would be the next person that you would follow.

Scrolling through Twitter you noticed a lot of people reposting a photo of you and Harry that got leaked today. You were both simply walking through the park, but the photo clearly showed you wearing Harry’s hoodie and everyone was screaming over it.

harriesunite: these are my parents

“H, baby, look.” You giggled as you showed him the tweet.

“Hmm?” He tucked his face down into your neck as he read your phone, and leaving your neck warm after he laughed.

“You’re such a dad, apparently.”

“Not yet I’m not.” He kissed your exposed neck, but only once when he remembered he was sat in front of his mum.

“Y’want to be?” You turned your head a little to the side to see him better.

“Whenever you want to be a mum, yeah.” He smiled so brightly.

“Soon.”

“Yeah, soon.” Harry nodded in agreement.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #ask finelinevogue #harry blurb #finelinevogue #harry styles concept #harry oneshot #harry styles blurbs #harry styles fic #fic rec harry styles #harry styles fluff

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 2 months

Text

How John Comes Home from Deployment

CoD ML

John hates coming home from deployment during the cold periods of the year.

Don’t get me wrong, he loves the sight of you asleep in your shared bed, wrapped up nice and snug in the thick comforter. A smile never fails to spread on his lips when he notices the pattern of your shirt, barely visible in the dusk yet enough for him to notice. Fortunately he has his flannel shirts to keep you warm when he can’t.

John knows you’re more than capable to take care of yourself. Nevertheless, he can’t help but grit his teeth at the thought you had to tuck yourself in yet again. That’s his job!

But the annoyance, as per usual, subsides at the scene in front of him: you snuggling with the warmy (a stuffed animal that contains a bag with cherry pits you have to heat in the microwave) he got you. He vividly recalls how you giggled that day, the way you compared him to the brown grizzly bear in your hands. “A rather striking image, innit? It’s like looking in the mirror.”

“That how you see me?”

“Especially in the morning when you haven’t had your cigar and tea yet.” He wrapped you up in his arms, pride swelling in his chest as you snuggled into it. “You’re my bear.”

My bear.

It’s the nickname he never envisioned himself liking. However, now, there isn’t anything else he’d rather be called.

Aside from Daddy.

John has embedded the way you say it in his fantasy and often thinks of it, plays it like his favourite song over and over. Out in the field, it’s a sure fire way for him to not lose morale. Moreover, it fuels his determination to return home, no matter the cost.

(And the rest of his boys too, of course!)

He has to.

If only because there is an important question he needs to ask. Should right now, after months of gathering the courage.

But he lets you sleep.

This can wait until the morning.

Quietly John puts his stuff in the corner by the door, grabs a shirt and pair of sweats out of your shared wardrobe, and slips into the bathroom to change. However, not before he has caressed your cheek, made sure he’s kept his promise. The talon of anguish lets go of his throat when he finds your skin dry and free of the little salty black rivulets that stained it last time. Thank God, he hasn’t made you cry again.

“The next time I do, I’ll retire,” he recalls telling you when he lifted you off of the couch. You’d fallen asleep there, wrapped up in your favourite white fluffy blanket like a burrito.

For as long as you could, you stayed awake to welcome him home in person. Unfortunately, you lost the fight around one in the morning. Two hours later, John stepped through the door, knackered and a little heartbroken at the sight of you clutching one of his shirts like it’s your lifeline. He didn’t mind the stains your mascara had made on it.

The same can’t be said for the fact your act had crumbled behind his back yet again. Time and again he’s told you it’s fine to cry, to tell each other you miss them, to not always pretend to be fine.

Because he knows you aren’t.

And neither is he.

Yet the decision he’s made might change things, bring some peace. Even if you tell him he’s insane and shouldn’t do it because it will be like throwing away everything he stands for, he stands by his word.

This was the final mission.

From now on, he’s simply John Price.

A man craving to settle down with his beloved.

The girl who instinctively snuggles into him the moment he lies down. Whose presence soothes and dispels the worst of his ghosts. Who drives his determination to improve himself day by day.

To do better as a man rather than a captain.

To be the best husband he can be.

Until then, John is as he is now.

Exhausted yet perfectly content.

Next to his fiancée.

Home.

#John Price #Captain John Price #Captain John Price x Reader #John Price x Reader #CoD x Reader #CoD MW #CoD MW Price

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exhaslo · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 6- Miguel x Reader (Shower Sex)

The sound of running water always made you calm. Whether it was a thunderstorm outside or just your shower, you felt at peace at the sound. It helped you relax, think and breathe after a long day of work. Today had been particularly hard on you. Everything that could have went wrong, did, and all of the customers were so rude. You had felt like crying not even half way into your shift, but you sucked it up and kept smiling.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Miguel asked as you entered your shared home. You looked up at your fiancé, tears threatening to spill, "Come here,"

Wrapping you in his warm embrace, Miguel let you sob. You vented about your day, to which he just listened. You and Miguel had been together for over a year. You knew about his secret and his family life and he knew yours. Sometimes it was hard to spend time with Miguel since he always had to save someone; to stop someone. Miguel was worried about you drifting from him and ended up proposing to you. Of course, it was an immediate yes due to your undying love for him.

Let's not forget the sex. Once Miguel told you about how he became Spiderman, everything made sense. His heighten abilities, his strength, his goddamn stamina. Miguel was a beast in bed. Everything you did turned the man on. Some days he fucked you go good that you could not go into work the next day. Those you had to limit him to when you had off. Miguel was not shy to let you know his needs. He also made sure that you were taken care of too. His love for you was unmatched.

"Thanks, Miggy. I'm going to shower." You whispered. Miguel stroked your eyes, wiping any remaining tears,

"De acuerdo, bebé. Me uniré a ti en un momento. (Okay, baby. I'll join you in a bit.)" He kissed the top of your head.

You smiled as he went to order some food. You loved it when he spoke Spanish. You didn't understand it really. Miguel was teaching you. Either way, you could hear the love in his tone. Miguel knew that the shower was your calming time. He always let you take as long as you needed to relax. Always making sure that you were okay.

Stepping into the bathroom, you turned the water on, making sure it was burning hot. Stripping your clothes you, you hopped in, enjoying the steam. The sensation of scorching hot water touching your drained skin was pleasant. Every frustrated itch in your body disappeared with the steam. Once you had your fill of heat, you brought the water down to a warmer temperature. Once you did, you heard the door open,

"Miguel?" You hummed, poking your head out of the shower. Miguel pecked your lips,

"Mind if I help you relax?" He said lowly.

Unable to say no to him, you shyly watched as Miguel stripped. Miguel always let you enjoy your showers in peace, that and with how different your schedules were, the two of you were rarely home at the same time for a shower. This was a first. You stared at his large shadow from behind the shower curtain. Would the two of you fit in the same shower? The thought never occurred to you. Miguel was far taller than you.

"Todavía te ves tenso, ¿por qué no te ayudo? (You still look tense, why don't I help you out?)" Miguel finally stepped into the shower. His large hands rubbed your shoulder, earning a soft mewl from you, "Mi bebé no merece estar estresado. ¿Por qué no te doy una razón para quedarte en casa? Me aseguraré de que no te muevas durante la próxima semana. (My baby doesn't deserve to be stressed. Why don't I give you a reason to stay home? I'll make sure you don't move for the next week.)" He whispered in your ear.

All you understood was his cute nickname for you and something about stress. You leaned back into his chest as he released some knots against your shoulders. This felt heavenly. Miguel's hands moved from your shoulders to around your front. A shiver ran up your spine as he teased you. His large hands proceeding to grab your breasts. You bit your lower lip, trembling against him as he massaged your boobs and pitched your nipples.

"Stressed here too?" He whispered in your ear. You leaned against him more as the water made your body slippery for him to play with,

"It has been....a rough day," You squeezed out.

Miguel rested his head against the crook of your neck, swirling his tongue around it. You whimpered softly, your legs starting to rub against each other. He sucked against your neck, pitching your nipples a bit rougher now. There were jolts sparking all over your body, waiting for his next move.

Miguel paid close attention to your body language. Leaving his marks on your neck, he moved over to the other side. He felt your body arch into his as his hand trailed down to your pussy. The running water making your skin feel so smooth. Making you feel so wet for him. Poking his fingers against your delicate bud, he hummed as you arched forward instead. Making circular motions, Miguel groaned lowly as your ass pressed against his cock.

You had the prettiest moans. All Miguel was doing was rubbing your clit and you were already crying for him. Diving deeper, Miguel slid two fingers inside your already throbbing hole. He turned your head to capture your lips in a rough kiss while pumping his fingers inside you. You body kept arching forward, moaning into his mouth. Miguel pressed you against the wall, giving you something to lean on while he played with your body.

"Tan apretado alrededor de mis dedos. Necesito relajarte. Que te jodan muy bien. (So tight around my fingers. I need to loosen you up. Fuck you really good.)"

"Yes, Miggy! I need you," You cried out.

All you really understood was him saying something about need and really good. You figured he was asking you if you needed him to make you feel good. You whimpered as Miguel removed his fingers. You were so close. Your body was burning and in desperate need for that release. Miguel pressed you down against the shower wall, sticking your hips closer to him.

"Mierda, te ves tan bien ahora mismo. Como si todo tu cuerpo estuviera mojado por mí. Quiere que te llene con mi polla. (Shit, you look so good right now. As if your whole body is wet for me. Wants me to fill you with my dick.)"

Your hair started to fall down your face since it was getting wet. Trying to turn your head, you cried out as Miguel started to insert himself. Your hands trying to grip onto the shower wall as you felt his thick cock stretch you out. You remembered the first time you had sex with him. Never had you felt so good. Miguel still made it feel like the first time you had sex every time. He always knew the right spots. Always overstimulated you. Always made you feel so full.

Miguel cussed lowly as he slid his wet hair back. His hips pressed up against yours as he felt your pussy clench against his dick. No matter how many times he entered you, you always felt so good. Relishing in the moment, Miguel moved at the sound of your begs and cries. He held your hips in place, slapping his hips against yours. The wet sounds from the water making it sound sexier and dirtier than normal. Your soaked body glistering before him like a trophy.

"Mírate aferrándote a la querida vida. ¿Mi polla se siente tan bien dentro de ti? Tu bonito y pequeño coño me está chupando por más. (Look at you holding onto dear life. My dick feel that good inside you? Your pretty little pussy just sucking me for more.)" His voice getting lower before slapping your ass.

"Ah~ Miguel~" You moaned at.

The sounds of your moans were getting louder and sloppier as you felt your high come back. You body burning as Miguel pounded your poor cunt. His rough and deep thrusts sending you over the edge each time. Your breathing hitched as he slapped your ass again, making you cum hard. You cried softly as you squeezed him. Miguel's thrusts did not slow down, causing you to shake. You could barely hold onto the slippery shower wall.

You whined as Miguel pressed you against the wall, spreading you legs a bit more. He rubbed your clit, kissing the back of your neck as he brutally slapped his dick into you. You felt him fasten, knowing that he was close. Crying out a moan as he forced another orgasm out of you, you trembled as you felt him cum inside.

"I love you, baby," Miguel whispered in your ear, "Are you still stressed?" You felt him smirk.

"Mhm," You responded without a thought.

Miguel licked his lips as he turned you around, your back against the wall now. He wrapped your legs around his waist as he entered you once you. You moaned his name, your arms wrapped around his neck. Miguel held you up by your ass, kissing your chest as he tried to feel you deeper.

"Cum for me again, baby. Let your stress be fucked away." Miguel groaned lowly as you clenched him once more, "That's right, fuck...don't think about anything but me,"

"Migueeeeel~" You cried out, shaking in pleasure.

"The shower made your body more relaxed, more loose. Such an easy fuck. Baby, you should let me fuck you in the shower everyday. Does that sound nice?" Miguel started to babble, feeling himself about to cum again.

"Y-Yes! Yes, Miguel! E-Everyday!" You cried out.

Miguel bit your lower lip as he released another heavy load inside you. Your face was so fucked out, just the way he liked it. He loved it when you were cock drunk on him. He knew he relieved both of your stress. Resting his head against your shoulder, Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he pulled out.

"I...don't want to work tomorrow," You whined, grinding your hips against Miguel's, "Please don't stop,"

All you wanted was Miguel to keep fucking you. His eyes sparkled as he complied to your wishes and started to pound your pussy once more. Your brain was far gone. All you felt was the shower water increase Miguel's speed. The sweat washing away from your bodies due to the water, making the sex feel far more refreshing. Miguel's wet hair sticking to his face as he begged you to cum for him. Your body arched into his, moaning your heart out as he kept bullying you.

You were going to have to change your personal shower time to match Miguel's schedule from now on.

#miguel o'hara #kinktober #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman

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callmemickey · 8 months

Text

Pepsi Cola

synopsis: Simon is on his break, but that doesn’t mean you stop working. After a full two weeks of mandatory overtime to complete a project, you were exhausted, absolutely beat. Simon’s been home for a few weeks and was starting to feel guilty. Watching you come home so tired you pass out on the couch? It was frustrating seeing you so drained. Well… it’s Friday night, and you’re sooo exhausted, love - why don’t you lie down and let Simon help you relax?

content: afab, porn w a plot, smut (GET YA PUSSY ATE!!!, fingering, overstim), not fluff?per se but he loves u.

word count: ~3.6k I think idk

notes: Title named after Cola by Lana Del Rey hayyyy iykyk

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Your keys felt so heavy in your hand as you attempted to fish them out of your deep, cluttered purse. They were tangled on something, and with an infuriated grunt, you yanked terribly hard, jerking them violently out of the thralls of your corded headphones. You really needed to switch to wireless. You fumbled them momentarily in your hand, trying to find your house key as the small porch light was your only guide, the sky dark like navy ink. “Fuck,” you mumbled, finally finding the key and opening the front door.

Soft, warm lights lit up the entryway, beckoning you to enter the fortress of comfort, an escape from the throes of responsibilities and existing. A groan left your lips as you closed the heavy door and locked it. The house smelled delicious like a home cooked meal, reminding you that Simon saved you dinner for when you came home. Your stomach growled, eager. “I’m home.” Your voice was loud and filled with fatigue as you called out to your fiancé, always making sure to signal that it was you and not someone breaking in.

You’ll never forget when you tried to surprise him one time. When you got into the living room, presumably as quiet as the dead, he had grabbed you and flipped you onto the couch. “You’re lucky I knew that was you. Wanna know what’d I do if you were a thieving little mouse?” You said yes, and later told him you’ll need to break in more often as he was putting his shirt back on, his back covered with red hot stripes from your fresh manicure.

You walked down the hallway, kicking off your high heels, shuffling towards the living room, your pantyhose helping you glide across the hardwood floors as lifting your feet felt nigh impossible. Simon, ever attentive, met you in the hallway before you could even get into the living room. “Ah, love, you must be exhausted.” His tone was soft, calming, and understanding. The energy that poured from you was prickly and sharp at best, cannibalistic at worst, because while he wanted to generously touch your arm, he was worried for his.

Your purse dropped unceremoniously from your shoulder and onto the floor as you trudged over to the couch. “This week has been terrible,” you grumbled as you plopped chest first onto the cushions, “so much overtime to get a project done for the shareholders. As if it’s my fault that budgets were cut.” Your voice was muffled in the fabric.

The couch sunk by your feet as you felt Simon’s hand gingerly begin to rub your toes, arches, and heels. His thumbs gently but firmly pressing into the swollen, tired flesh of your foot elicited a moan of relief from you. “C’mon, Y/N, why don’t you go wash up? I have your dinner in the oven - I’ll get it started. Let’s go.” His voice was still delicate, supportive.

Simon ushered you up and you sighed, giving a small nod in agreement.

You went into the bathroom and stripped off your clothes. You knew what you were getting into when you were promoted to senior marketing manager, but recently you wished you had better foresight. You turned on the shower, hoping that the hotter the water, the more likely it will boil and burn off any trace of this week happening. As you washed your hair and body, you thanked whatever god allowed for Hell Week to be over. When you felt you were thoroughly cleansed from files, papers, and way too many sticky notes, you ended your shower, wanting to forget the sound of telephones ringing and keyboards clacking.

With a towel wrapped around your body and hair, you stepped out of the bathroom and sighed, the hot, fragrant steam spilling over into the cool bedroom, licking the air. You took the towel off of your head, gently squeezing water out of your hair as you walked to the dresser. You opened your underwear drawer with your hand, humming at your options.

“Feelin’ better?” Simon’s voice purred from the doorway. You looked over and saw him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed - and they briefly rippled with a flex, as if he were holding back. You did a double take, glancing from his feet up at his face. His eyes were half-lidded and a small half smirk sat on his lips. You knew that look. He was ravenous.

“Yeah. Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” You asked before attempting to divert your attention back to the drawer.

“Like what?” He uncrossed his arms, strolling over to you, towering high above. You looked up at Simon’s face.

“Like that!” You couldn’t help but giggle as he buried his face against your neck, sniffing your smooth skin, inhaling the floral scent of your body wash so deep, letting it etch in his memory like carving stone.

He molded his body against yours, hands gripping deeply at your waist, fingers pressed into the plush towel. Your hands reached to wrap around his neck. His warm lips began to leave deep, hot trails against your skin, causing you to sigh in satisfaction. Simon kept your bodies tight together, lips trailing up to your ear. He nibbled at your earlobe, sucking gently at the flesh before biting at the shell, creating a surge of pleasure to pool in your core. You whimpered, hips bucking against his jeans. Your chest heaved in shallow sighs while he continued teasing you, breathing hot puffs against your ear, letting goose bumps sweep across your skin.

“Let me take care of you.” His voice was a hot whisper, and what he gave to you was not a suggestion, but a demand.

“Mmm, you don’t have to baby,” you purred softly, a tame deferment, placidly defying him.

You tested the waters and he called your bluff. He squeezed at your waist, a little firmer than you thought he would. His voice was a low growl, “Take off your towel and lie on the bed.”

Your body began to hum on the same frequency as his, his jeans becoming incredibly firm against your stomach. Simon pulled away, his half-lidded eyes darkening as they swirled with an insatiable drive. Your breath hitched in your chest, your stomach flipping as your cunt twitched in need.

You paused for too long. A hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass and gripped the fat flesh. You yelped more so at the sudden action than the sting. “And what do you say?” He asked, and your arousal caused you to feel your cheeks flush hot.

Your chest heaved. “Yes, sir.” Your voice was quiet, and he smiled.

“Thas my good girl, so god damn beautiful and smart. Go on then, let me see those gorgeous tits.” He moved his hands away from your ass and waist.

Your stomach flipped again, but you obliged, loosening the towel and letting it fall to the floor. Simon took a deep inhale, exhaling sharply as he eyed your body, and right now he looked like he desperately needed to sink his cock into you, but that wasn’t really part of his plan tonight.

He inhaled one more time, blinking himself back to reality as he gave your ass pleasant tap with just enough force to get it to jiggle. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, get your arse on that bed now.” He was at the point of fully commanding you around, but you were okay with that, and you would do anything he ever asked of you. Anything for your wonderful fiancé.

“Yes, sir.” You said coyly, causing his lips to twitch back into a smirk. You felt yourself melt a little while you walked over to the bed, plopping down on the edge.

Simon walked over to you, so unbelievably tall while you were sitting down. Heat pooled down to your stomach when you glanced down at his jeans. You looked back up at him, licking your bottom lip absentmindedly. He smiled, sighing. “Not tonight, love.” He scolded lovingly.

“Later?” You asked.

He paused, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Later,” he agreed, letting you win - which caused you to smile mischievously.

Simon leaned down to you, grabbing you by your waist and tossing you up higher onto the bed. You yelped with a smile, giggling as you fell down on your back, bouncing softly on the down blanket. Simon’s lips came down against yours, giving you little to no time to adjust. His hands, gentle on the naked flesh of your waist, whispered ghostly touches up your sides before eventually cupping your breasts. Your moans were lost in his mouth as his fingers squeezed and rubbed at your nipples, your hands finding themselves lost in his hair. You squeezed his hips with your thighs, your cunt swollen, begging and weeping for his abuse.

He moved his lips down to your neck, kissing, sucking, and gently biting you. Simon moved a hand from your breast and used it as leverage next to your head while the other hand slid down your front, tickling your sensitive skin, roaming over your stomach and mound. His fingers dipped down between your folds, pressing into your wet heat. You let out a pathetic whimper at the contact alone, raising it into a moan as his fingers rubbed slow circles against your clit.

“Ah, yeah? You like that, Y/N?” He purred against your neck before pulling away to see your reaction. You bit your lower lip and nodded feverishly at him, eyebrows furrowed. Simon smiled, your wet hair sticking to your face, providing a cool relief to the heat that swarmed your body like a furnace.

“Ye-yeah, yes- yes, sir,” you managed to gasp out. His smile turned into a smirk as he felt your cunt twitching. As if answering your unspoken prayers, his two digits dipped and pushed into your needy hole. A gasp was ripped from you, jaw dropping slightly at the sudden filling of your cunt.

“God, already so wet - my girl has the best fucking pussy.” He gave a small thrust, causing you to moan gently and buck your hips. “Oh, the things I’d do just to have my cock buried in you,” he growled before gently pumping his fingers.

Your tits bounced as his digits softly fucked into you, fingers curling up and rocking your hips, pressing into that spot that had your eyes rolling back. Your grip left his hair and soon grasped desperately onto his back, causing him to groan while your nails dug at him. “Ha, ah, harder,” you gasped as your hips bucked against his hand.

Simon smiled. “Yeah? You wanna cum on my fingers, don’tcha baby?” He asked, your cunt twitching embarrassingly at his words.

“Yes- yes, sir, please!” You whined.

“Hold on, love,” he sighed before rocking his fingers into you at an ungodly pace.

Your voice raised pitch before becoming lost in your throat, your head thrown back and eyes gone. All that filled the room was the sounds of your juices squelching against his fast moving digits. The silence was soon cut, moans finally finding their way out of you. Your fingernails dragged frantically at his back, as if you were fighting to stay grounded. Your cunt constricted harshly around his fingers, trapping him.

Your orgasm ripped through you, your hips bucked against his fingers and your thighs squeezed at his hips. Like a cool tidal wave poured over you, a chill ran down your back as your body surged with pleasure, leaving you crying out Simon’s name. He chuckled softly with a gentle voice, “Ahhh, thas my good girl, huh?” His voice was like a warm blanket of clouds, helping you down from your dizzying high. He pulled his fingers out and gave a small slap to your pussy, causing you to whine and your hips to stutter as he teased the tender flesh.

“Jesus, Simon,” you whimpered, your head still swimming in the aftershocks of pleasure.

He chuckled at your reaction while planting kisses down your neck and collarbone, stopping at your breasts to lope a nipple into his mouth. You let out a throaty groan as his teeth pulled at the sensitive, hardened bud. Your nails that raked at his back moved back up to his hair, the pads of your fingers pressing firmly into his scalp as his locks slid and tightened betweens your digits. The sensation had him sighing against your mounds.

He released your breast from his mouth, his teeth squeezing at your nipple before fully letting go, causing you to let out a small yelp. Simon began to kiss down your chest and the expanse of your stomach. He placed deep kisses at your hips before heading towards the simmering heat of your cunt - sticky, wet, and begging. He looped his arm under your thigh, hand holding your hip to keep you in place.

Simon’s lips pressed against your swollen clit, causing you to gasp harshly. His tongue, flat and hot, slid up your folds, extracting a long moan from you, and in response he moaned. “I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he hummed against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice driving straight to your core.

You groaned, your hips grinding against him in response which caused him to chuckle against you. “O-oh God, Simon!” You cried at the overwhelming stimulation, your legs shaking at his persistence as he buried his mouth into your cunt.

Simon lapped at you hungrily like a man dehydrated, drinking at your sloppy pussy as if he’d never be able to go back down on you again. It was gluttony and pure greed. He had commented before about how he hopes his manner of passing is drowning while you straddle his face. You laughed and said maybe one day! He didn’t think your joking demeanor was appropriate, and how he meant every word with serious intent. Whenever he’s being deployed on a mission, he always assures you he won’t die, because you’re the only one that could take him out. Of course, you didn’t truly understand the depth of his conviction.

Simon’s teeth gently nibbled and helped to create a suction around your clit, his dampened fingers once again finding your hole and pushing in. You let out a loud moan, your hips driving against his face, his nose pressing onto your mound as he did everything he could to keep you two attached, connected. He moved his head to match with your movements, keeping his mouth glued flat to your pussy, and any attempt to pull yourself away from him would prove futile.

Your fiancé has a wonderfully keen gift of being a giver. He was always so incredibly selfless with you, which could get almost aggravating as he was certain on making sure that your needs were met first. This attitude carried over to the bedroom. He could give you fifty orgasms and beg to give you fifty more while never even taking his shirt off.

What he loves, besides bringing you pleasure you’ve never experienced before, is seeing you lost in passion. Watching your face twist as he stretches you with an additional finger, your eyes rolling back as he hits that sweet spot, your hips grinding as you chase after your orgasm, your back arching and legs shaking as the euphoria and bliss crash over and through you. Simon got off by simply being the source of your arousal, and he savored unraveling you thread by thread before you’re bare before him.

That’s what he loved.

Your pleasure brimmed to the top, the lip, before finally pouring over. Your hands gripped tight at his scalp, legs tightened around his head as your back arched, head thrown back. Your cunt tightened deliciously around his pumping digits, his tongue still swirling around your clit as he rode out your orgasm. “F-Fuck, Simon!” You cried, moaning loudly, still holding onto him as the high came to slow, but he didn’t stop.

He continued to pump and lap at your clit, causing you to squeal in overstimulation, legs beginning to shake as a concoction of pleasure and pain pulsed through your core with every pass of his tongue. “I can’t- ah! Simon, please!” You sobbed, begging him to stop. A harsh groan left you, your body trying to shake him away as he kept his mouth to you. It wasn’t fair - it was too much. You were starting to burnout, your body sore and barely able to keep up. Regardless of your exhaustion, another orgasm was in the horizon, slowly reaching it’s peak before ultimately falling into a frenzied bliss.

“You gonna cum again, baby?” Simon mumbled against your sex, the vibrations causing you to groan roughly as your hands moved from his head to the sheets, grasping them with a white-knuckled grip, back arched impossibly high as you tried to wriggle away. You nodded frantically at his question, your body squirming and tossing with no ability to stop or control it as he pushed you to your limits.

You never doubt that Simon can bring you another orgasm in quick succession - he’s proven that true multiple times, almost every time, especially now. Your poor clit, though, was bullied and battered, the bundle of nerves crying out in both pain and pleasure. But it was a slave to Simon. Even during the loneliest of nights, months in bed by yourself, you could never make yourself feel how he makes you feel. It was maddening, and frankly unfair, but it made the intimate times with him all the more exhilarating and mind numbing. What makes it better is that no one but Simon has been able to bring you into such a state of ecstasy.

Simon’s free hand, still wrapped around your thigh and holding onto your hip, held you so tightly in place he pinched at your skin. You were going to bruise there, you knew, but you didn’t really care. Even though it was like edged like a razor, your release was fast approaching with no stops. You panted heavily, loudly, your body involuntarily writhing as the pleasure tipped you over the scale. His tongue dragged hot and firm against your clit, his fingers still thrusting and rubbing the spongy spot inside your cunt as the muscle enclosed and clamped around him, unforgiving.

“Oh, God!” You cried loudly, tears pricking at your eyes as you used a hand to cover your face.

Your orgasm came fast and sharp. His onslaught was staggering and unrelenting, and it brought an end that was piercing, sudden. A scream was ripped from you as the pleasure came like a heavy punch, borderline painful. It was a surge of electricity that ripped through your core, shocking your nerves and forcing your body to briefly tense… but it all dissipated almost immediately. Your mind and body crashed.

Your back collapsed onto the bed and Simon’s fingers slid out of your clenching cunt, his mouth pulling away from your swollen, angry clit. A moan of relief fell out of your mouth as Simon crawled atop you, a hand pushing the hair out of your face as he planted his lips onto yours, kissing you deeply and fully. Your juices had coated his lips in abundance, and you tasted yourself as his tongue slipped into your mouth. His tongue was slick, and he made sure that you entire mouth was coated with yourself.

He pulled back, allowing you the space to sit up, delirious, face hot and wet from sweat. Simon stifled a laughter behind a tightly pursed mouth. “What.” Your tone strained with trying to demand an answer, but it was hoarse from your yelling and crying.

He shook his head, his eyes fluttering. “Your hair, love.”

Your hands shakily went to your hair, feeling it messy and sticking up at odd angles. “Ah.” You nodded, trying to run your fingers through to flatten it out.

Simon preemptively got up to the bathroom and came out with a brush, taking a seat behind you as he silently began brushing out your hair, starting at the ends. You two took the moment quietly, slowly, and embraced just being in each other’s presence. The session was hot and heavy, and having Simon nearby, gently brushing out your vicious knots, was soothing on your frazzled nerves, like aloe on a sunburn. “You feelin’ good, babe?” He asked in a quiet tone.

You hummed. “Yeah, but that last one was really intense.” You commented, eyebrows briefly furrowed as the third orgasm continued to make your body shudder. His hands suddenly wrapped deep in your hair at the base of your scalp, and with a gentle tug, he pulled your head back to look at him, causing you to gasp quickly.

“Were you able to handle it?” His brown eyes bore into you, and you gave a restrained nod, almost forgetting that his hand was keeping your head steady.

Your voice was meek and small, “Yes, sir.”

Simon smiled, kissing your forehead. “That’s my girl,” he purred, gingerly releasing your head and putting the brush on the nightstand. He gave you a kiss on the top of your head as he stood up, commenting about checking on dinner.

You noticed his cock was rock solid in his jeans, pressing and straining against the denim so tight it must’ve hurt. God, you wanted to return the favor more than you could possibly put into words. He noticed your gaze and his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head upwards so your eyes met his.

“Later, like we agreed.” His voice was low, firm, and painfully arousing. Literally. Your clit throbbed with both the need to be doted on and to also be left alone for a long, long time. “Get dressed. I’ll be in the kitchen.” With that, Simon left you to your own devices in the bedroom.

You got up out of bed, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of your beaten cunt being squeezed between your legs. You hobbled to the dresser, resuming your original task. Underwear. Grabbing a random pair, along with pajama shorts and a shirt, you found yourself comfortable and ready for the night, making sure to slide on your robe so you didn’t get chilly.

The evening progressed. You sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, eating your dinner while Simon sat on the couch behind you, running his fingers through your hair, lazily braiding your locks as a movie played on the television. Your lovely fiancé also made sure you were planted on the softest, fluffiest pillow he could find. When you were finished, he made you sit on the couch while he cleaned up, coming back just to delicately massage your feet. It was tender, romantic, thoughtful. Simon wasn’t a very… physically affectionate partner, so these moments when he just wanted to be with you, to touch you, well, you really tried to get as much as you could.

When he was finished, his hands slid up your smooth calves towards your thighs, beckoning you to cuddle closer - to which you did. You hopped across the couch where the back of your legs were draped over his thighs, nestling your body in close to his, letting him wrap his large arm around your shoulders to keep you close. Oh, you couldn’t even put into words how peaceful being wrapped up in his arms made you feel. Warm, secure, safe. His other hand sat on your thigh, his veins and tendons prominent, titillating, twisting around his forearms, making the black ink of his tattoo dance. What was even hotter was seeing these veins and tendons flex and and tighten as his hands gripped the sheets or headboard as he fucked you to nirvana, until nothing but prayers and begging for God spilled and tumbled from your mouth in an indistinguishable slur.

“Why so nice tonight?” You asked him in a quiet voice, looking up at him while resting your head against his chest.

Without hesitation, he looked down at you. “Do I need a reason?” Your stomach fluttered, heat spreading to your face. You shook your head. “You’ve been stressed and working late this week. Least I could do,” he explained regardless and shrugged, rubbing the fresh stubble on his jaw.

Simon’s been back for a month, and you’ve been so busy you feel like you’ve barely seen him. He gets up extremely early to see you before work, make you breakfast and coffee, and prepare your lunch. All day he makes sure the house is clean and chores are done, opting to even overhaul the landscaping in the front yard - something you’ve been too busy to do. At night, he always waits for you to come home, dinner ready if you haven’t eaten. He makes sure you’re showered and taken care of before starting the whole routine again in the morning. You didn’t necessarily feel less than or that you’re lacking in the relationship, but it was infuriating not being able to take care of your fiancé while he has worked tirelessly to keep the world from blowing up.

But that wasn’t wholly true, was it? Sure, you felt that way, having openly admitted your insecurities to him, but Simon has always been genuine and adamant in letting you know that you’re doing so much more when you don’t have to. While he loves that you’re on your corporate grind, he’s made it clear that if you told him you never wanted to lift your hand again, you wouldn’t. Of course, with weeks, and honestly, months like these, you get closer and closer to considering to take him up on his offer. Then you could be that sweet, doting housewife, eager for her husband to come home from war.

“So,” you started, grabbing his attention and warm gaze, “is it later yet?”

#ouch my puthy!#cod mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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