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#the world when none of it is your responsibility' and the
yoongiofmine · 1 day
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LY: Love You Better | JJK | Five
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Pair: Idol!Jungkook x Playmate!reader
Summary: Jungkook never wanted a playmate of his own before. While living a busy life, touring the world, being one of the top kpop idols alongside his Bangtan hyungs, he had everything he could possibly need. But now that responsibilities call and his brothers are starting to focus on their solo careers before eventually enlisting one by one, Jungkook feels lonely. Maybe hiring a companion to take care of his needs and fill in the empty space in his life isn’t such a bad idea anymore…
Chapter warnings: ………yes, smut again, don’t come for me. Dom Kook, competitive Kook. 
WC: 6.3K
[Membership]
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“Come on, Kook, do this with us!” Jimin pleaded, a drink away from draping himself over the maknae’s lap. 
“I’m not in the mood, hyung, I’m sorry.” the youngest shook his head, more than happy with just sitting where he was, on one of the red couches of the bar Hoseok decided to close down to have his birthday celebration at. 
“But we have a routine!” Taehyung insisted, shoulders down and slumped. 
“Yes, a routine that we don’t need. That we haven’t needed in years.” Jungkook pointed out, bringing the beer bottle to his lips for a sip. 
“Just because we don’t need it, doesn’t mean it’s not fun.” the second to youngest continued. 
Jungkook was never the most outgoing of his members. The idol much preferred small get togethers or dinners at one of the other guys’ homes. But Hoseok hyung, being as friendly as he was, and with his impending military leave happening soon, chose to hire a whole bar in the middle of Itaewon for his close friends and some family members to celebrate with him. 
It was closed enough that he knew none of the guests would post anything about tonight, everyone was enjoying good company and drinks, not worried about their phones. It was nice, really, and Jungkook knew he’d start relaxing after a few beers. 
But for now things still felt a little weird. 
Their group wasn’t complete, Jin hyung didn’t have enough military days to request a leave yet. Joon hyung was already lost somewhere with Soyoon, a singer Hoseok had introduced to him last june, at the Jack in The Box listening party, and Jungkook was pretty sure they were secretly hooking up. The fact that this would be the last birthday he’d celebrate with Hobi hyung was also sitting heavy in his chest. 
“Alright, you two, leave him alone.” speak of the devil, the birthday man was doing his rounds to be a good host, shooing Jimin and Taehyung away with a wave and a laugh. 
“But–” Jimin tried, being shushed by Hoseok. 
“Let him get a couple drinks in, I’m sure he’ll join you in your mischief in a minute.” Hoseok sat next to Jungkook on the yellow, stained, leather couch, hand resting on the younger man’s thigh. 
Jimin and Taehyung were huffing for all of two seconds before linking arms and laughing about anything they planned on doing next. If Jin hyung was there, they’d most likely rope him into their doings.
“How are you feeling tonight?” Hoseok asked him with a squeeze to his knee. 
“I’m great, hyung, this place is cool.” was his answer, which sounded a little airy as it was delivered on the mouth of the beer bottle. 
“Yeah, you look like you’re having the time of your life.” sarcasm laced the hyung’s words, but the laugh that accompanied it softened the blow. “I saved your ass right now, but you won’t be alone here all night.” 
“Where’s Yuna noona? I like you better when she’s around.” Jungkook poked, pout covering the end of the bottle to chug a sip. 
“Yah, I’m just looking out for you while I can!” the older man was laughing again, pointing with his head to the side where his playmate was. “She’s with Yoongi hyung over at the bar.”
Jungkook’s eyes scanned the place, taking in the atmosphere. He had never been to this particular bar before, as it was on the smaller side, so it would most likely be packed with tourists and locals if the hyung hadn’t closed it down for his party tonight. 
The first floor was for the bar, a makeshift dance floor and sitting areas, where the second half-floor apparently had some games like old school video game machines, pool tables and coin karaoke booths. 
The bar itself was near the door and, just like Hoseok said, Yoongi and Yuna were there. The hyung was sitting on a tall bench, legs parted so the woman could fit in between. Yuna was laughing at something Yoongi said, hand on his chest as she pushed him playfully; his pink gums were out as he smiled like a fool in love. 
It was a scene that brought a twist to Jungkook’s stomach, turning back to Hoseok, who was also watching the scene unfold. 
“Shouldn’t she be with you? It’s your birthday.” the maknae asked, slightly worried. 
“She’ll come home with me tonight, that’s what matters.” Hoseok shrugged, bringing his glass to his lips, eyes only leaving his girl and his best friend when he continued: “It’s important for them to get used to each other, so there’s no awkwardness when she starts to work for him.”
“Again, you’re okay with that?” 
“Have to be. She needs the money, and I’d rather she works for Yoongi than someone random.” the hyung sounded worried, no doubt having talked about his enlistment plans with Yuna. After working together for so many years, his absence was something she needed to be aware of. “It’s easy for idols to feel entitled when it comes to playmates, you know? Nolichingu is a good agency, but there are horror stories about places that let their workers get mistreated and abused if it meant bringing more money in.”
“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes were wide, as he never gave the playmate thing much thought before wanting to hire his own, lines forming between his brows as he wondered about your experiences. 
If you’ve been in that career for half a decade, you must’ve had as many bad experiences as good ones. 
“You’re a better man than I am, hyung.” the younger man admitted, eyes finding Yuna and Yoongi again. As the woman typed something on her phone, the hyung stared at her with stars in his eyes. Jungkook wondered if Hoseok could see it too. “If that was Yn–”
“You’re a jealous boy, Jungkookie. Always have been.” Hoseok shrugged, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m only telling you this because, like I said, I’m trying to look out for you. Yuna, Yn, any other playmate… They aren’t ours. They work with us, yeah, but don’t let yourself get carried away. They don’t belong to us.”
“I know that, hyung.” Jungkook grumbled, gaze dropping to focus on the green bottle between his fingers, tracing the bumpy patterns on the glass. 
“Good, then.” Hobi hyung didn’t sound all that convinced, but steered the conversation nonetheless. “I take it you’re getting along?”
“Y-you could say that.”
His stuttering only came out when Jungkook grew nervous, cursing himself for his own slip. The man sat beside him gasped and turned around to properly face him. 
“Ohhh, Jungkookieeee.” Hoseok mused, high pitched laugh and eyes wide. “You mean you two…? I wasn’t sure you’d ask for that part of the service, I’ll be honest.”
“I didn’t technically ask for it. It, uh, just happened.” Jungkook shrugged, downplaying it. His neck felt hot, and the smile on his lips was telling. 
If this was Taehyung or Jimin, they would have demanded the sordid details, but Hoseok was kind enough to only ask: “Was it nice?”
“We didn’t have sex yet.” he explained, voice low. “But we kissed. And stuff.”
“And stuff?”
He nodded. “It was nice, yeah, very nice.”
“So that’s why you weren’t interested in wingman-ing with Jimin and Tae?” 
Before he could agree with the hyung’s conclusion, heeled steps approached the two of them, making both men turn to see Yuna and– 
“Heeeey, you made it!” Hoseok was getting up as he saw you standing with his girl, a pretty smile on your glossed lips as you opened your arms to hug him. 
“Happy birthday, Hoseokie-oppa!” 
Jungkook had last seen you this morning, when he dropped you off at the building you lived at, no hopes of seeing you again before Monday morning. He had asked you if you were coming tonight, knowing being friends with Yuna and Hoseok would mean you were invited, but you told him there were things you and your roommate needed to do at your apartment, so you’d be unable to make it. 
You looked really good tonight, with a black mini-skirt with the tiniest red heart prints and a long sleeved, body fitting, black cashmere shirt with buttons at the front; the buttons of your top near your chest were fighting for dear life, sitting snug against your breasts. Layers of necklaces sat on your collarbones and that’s where he pretended to look when he got up to greet you. 
“Hi, Kook!” you hugged him next, your chunky boots making you a couple inches taller than he was used to. 
“Didn’t think you were coming.” he said quietly, breathing in your perfume; soft and floral. 
“Her roommate is an asshole sometimes.” Yuna explained before you could. 
You gave the group a half hearted nod of agreement as your arms unwrapped from Jungkook’s middle, moving to stand beside him. 
“You want a drink?” Jungkook was the one offering, but before he could keep you, Yuna held your hand and pulled you away. 
“You already have her five days of the week, aren’t you tired?” Yuna teased, but you whined a complaint at the underlined insult. “We need some gossip time, I’ll bring her to you in a second.” 
Jungkook couldn’t argue, nor defend himself as you were taken away towards the bar so you and your friend could talk. Him and Hoseok were still standing when the hyung patted him on the back. 
“You, my friend, got it bad.” 
“Excuse me, how can you say that after watching a five second interaction?” Jungkook pointed out with a frown, but he already felt more awake just from the simple fact that you were here. 
“You were sniffing her hair.” the man deadpanned and Jungkook felt his face flush. 
“So?” he chided, one hand inside his pockets to feign nonchalance. “I sniff your hair all the time.” 
“You have known me for twelve years.” 
“She smells good!” was his defense, a very poor one at that, but it’s what he had. 
Jungkook was particular about what kind of smells he liked, he’d always been that way. His mother used to joke that it was because of his big nose that he could smell things a lot more strongly than others. He had no idea if it was accurate, but strong scents made his nostrils burn. 
He never had that problem with you. Your body wash was mellow and the perfumes you liked to wear were always soft and floral, a little on the sweeter side, which seemed to match you. 
Besides, Jungkook wasn’t ready to admit to his hyung just how bad he had it for you. 
Now that Yuna was busy with you, Yoongi joined the two-person group of Hoseok and Jungkook near the yellow couch. Jungkook took his seat again, leaving his empty bottle at the small table in front of him, Hoseok on the other cushion and Yoongi on the armchair right beside it. Not too long after, Namjoon and Soyoon turned them into a five piece group, all of them ignoring how the lips of the newcomers were swollen and slightly red. 
Yoongi spoke of his tour and how he hoped all tickets sold out, going over the venues he'd perform at, wishing the rest of the members would come see him. Jimin definitely would. Hoseok wasn’t sure if he could. 
Soyoon mentioned her collab with Namjoon, who was staring at her mouth the whole time. The woman was sweet. Nerdy too, kinda bossy in a fun way; it was surprising that the hyung would go for someone like that. 
Conversation floated around him, but Jungkook’s eyes were trailed to the bar, where you and Yuna were talking animatedly about something he couldn’t hear. The maknae thought he saw slight annoyance on your features at some point, or something akin to disappointment. Yuna noticed it too, giving you a hug and ordering more shots of whatever you were having.
When both of you had full glasses of colorful drinks, you made your way to the group again, making Jungkook fix his posture a bit more. 
“Relax, kid.” Yoongi was the one to notice, muttering behind his whiskey glass. “Play it cool.” 
Jungkook nodded, back resting against the couch as he draped an arm around the back of it, knees parting in a hopefully-natural manspreading. He pretended not to notice you walk this way, laughing at whatever Hoseok was saying. 
Yuna was the first to reach the seats, taking perch on the arm of the couch beside Hoseok. 
“What did we miss?” Yuna asked, slight slur to her words, which made Hoseok smile fondly and wrap a protective arm around her hips. 
“Nothing much.” he replied, kissing her on the arm under the attentive eyes of Yoongi. 
That was a mess Jungkook didn’t plan on getting involved with, nor would he be able to as you sat by his side on the couch, tucked under his stretched arm, glossy eyes and lips around the plastic straw you were sipping from. 
“Hi.” you greeted again, knocking the air out of his lungs. “You look handsome.” 
“I was about to tell you the same thing.” his lips were pulled up at the sides as his head tilted downwards to study your face. He liked the shimmery makeup on your lids. 
“No one ever told me I’m handsome before.” you giggled, proud of yourself for that little joke. 
“I meant I was about to tell you I’m handsome.” Jungkook played along with a grin, any noise around the two of you getting muffled, as if you were in a bubble. “You’re just pretty.” 
You were laughing sweetly, pastel pink nails a contrast to your red drink and the black  sleeve of your shirt. Jungkook didn’t think he ever saw you in clothes with colors. Not that he minded, his own closet was filled with blacks, grays and the occasional white. It was just something he noticed.
“What are you drinking?” he carried on, watching you slip the straw from your mouth. 
“No idea what it’s called, but it’s strawberry.” you lifted the glass towards him in offering. “Wanna try?” 
Jungkook gave you a small nod, liking the way your eyes followed the movement of his lips as he drank from your straw, tasting your gloss along with the alcohol, feeling the sticky of it on his mouth. 
After the sip, the fingertips from the hand that was behind you on the back of the couch dragged on the side of your neck as he said:
“You like it sweet and gentle, don’t you, doll?” he meant the drink, which was too sweet and not strong enough for him, but Jungkook loved the way you squirmed next to him, a small puff of air leaving your lips. 
Your mouth parted for you to speak, but you were interrupted as your bubble was popped and Taehyung plopped down on the couch on your other side. Hoseok and Yuna were no longer there, but Jungkook would have no clue about when either of them moved. 
“Hey, Yn.” Taehyung smiled brightly and you had to sit a little more angled so you could look at him, which pressed your side to Jungkook’s. 
“What’s up?” you smiled back, sweet tilt to your voice as you greeted his friend. 
In the almost three weeks you had been working for Jungkook, Tae hyung and Jimin hyung made visits to the house to see you; either bringing take out or drinks to be shared. None of those times had Jungkook been embarrassed by his friends, but he was still warry, letting his arm drop down your back to rest around your waist. 
“Do you like being a playmate?” Taehyung asked; leave it to him to choose that topic to make conversation. 
“Yeah, of course, or I wouldn’t be doing it.” you giggled, most likely taken back by the question. “I think it’s fun. Allows me to travel around and meet cool people.” 
“Is that what you want to work with forever?” the hyung continued, just as Jungkook’s fingers lightly squeezed your sides. 
“Why, you have another job for me?” you laughed, still getting used to Tae’s slightly random ways. “I’m not really looking for a change in career for now.”
“For now?” Jungkook surprised even himself by the glimmer of hope he felt at the prospects of a future you didn’t work with this. 
Jungkook would never shame you for what you did, especially now that he knew what being a playmate really entailed. But he couldn’t help but think about the future… The future where your Playmate/Client relationship might blossom into something more. 
“Well, being a playmate doesn’t really give you longevity career wise. While we look young and pretty is all good, but when we get older… Well, let’s just say you don’t get as many clients picking you in the sea of younger girls.” you explained, looking between Jungkook and Taehyung. “I don’t have plans to stop now, but in the future I might have to do something else.”
“Maybe we can do a drama together in the future!” Taehyung offered, knowing you wanted to be an actress. “That would be fun. We could make a cute on-screen couple.” 
“I think it would be more fun to play a villain.” you added, and Jungkook didn’t want to delve in the relief that flooded him. “Maybe with a nice death at the end of the season…” 
You and Taehyung got lost in the subject, where the hyung told you about how fun filming his death scene in Hwarang was, you asked him questions about his experiences on the set and if he planned on doing anything like that again. 
There wasn’t much that Jungkook could say, as the most acting he’d done was during the filming of VCRs for BTS concerts. But he would still nod and smile whenever you looked back at him, never wanting to feel left out. But Jungkook was more than happy just to hold you like this, gently running his fingers up and down your sides, occasionally kissing your shoulder as if it was the norm. 
A loud yelp coming from the bar interrupted the conversation, Jimin almost slipping from the bench he was sitting at while talking to one of Hoseok’s friends. It made Taehyung laugh at the drunk hyung, but he took his leave with the explanation of ‘someone better keep an eye on him’. 
When it was just the two of you on the couch, everyone else moving around and mingling, you left your empty cup on the table nearby and turned to face Jungkook. Your face was a little flushed from the alcohol, eyes a little unfocused as you studied his face. 
“I like your freckle.” you decided, pointer finger touching the bottom of his lip. “And your face.” 
“I like your face, too.” he chuckled, wondering if maybe your drink was stronger than he thought, or just how many shots you had with Yuna. “Should we get you some water?” 
“Alcoholic water?” you giggled, resting your hand on his thigh, slightly higher than he expected, making him gulp. 
“Water water.” Jungkook told you, making you pout and frown. You shook your head, cute as can be. 
“That’s boring, Kook, this is supposed to be a party.” you pointed out to him, looking around yourself and settling your attention on the stairs on the other side of the room. “What’s upstairs?”
“Some games, I think.” he shrugged, smile growing as your eyes widened. “Wanna check it out?” 
“Will you come with?” you chirped and he nodded, as if it wasn’t intended that he would. 
Jungkook didn’t plan on leaving your side, unless you asked him to. It should be weird, how he already spent his days next to you. But the more he had of you, the more he wanted. It was addicting really, from your personality to the way you looked. It was almost too good to be true. 
You stood up first, offering your hand to Jungkook to take, and led the way on wobbly knees to the stairs. The two of you passed by a winking Jimin and a red eyed Namjoon, receiving a thumbs up from a dancing Hoseok. 
The idol let you walk up first, keeping a hand on your hip to keep you from tripping over your heavy boots. And if he had a nice view of your ass, then that was an unplanned perk. 
“Air hockey!” you squealed as you saw the game table, leaving Jungkook behind as you walked to it. “I used to love this, my brother and I would spend our allowance on the arcade by the mall when we were growing up.”
“Why did you stop growing?” Jungkook asked as he patted your head, making you laugh prettily. 
“Stop that, my whole family is short, okay?” you batted his hand away, not minding his joke. “Wanna play?”
“I only play for a prize.” his arms crossed at his chest as Jungkook rested the side of his hips against the air hockey table. 
“What do you want?” you mirrored him, but as your arms crossed, your shirt became a little tighter and your breasts were just so…
“I win, you lose a button.” his mouth was speaking before his brain could catch up. 
It made you laugh and look down at your chest. “If you want to see them, all you gotta do is ask.”
“I like to earn it.” Jungkook’s shoulders raised and fell, relieved you weren’t offended by his bluntness. 
“I can think of a way or two you can do that.” your arms uncrossed and you touched his chest with a small hand. 
“Yeah?”
“Start the game, Kook.” 
You suddenly sounded sober, which was bad for his competitiveness, but good for his morals. 
Each of you went to an end of the table and as you took the bright yellow pushers and sent one sliding towards Jungkook, the man pressed the button to make the machine light up and tiny puffs of air covered the surface. The red disk was released on Jungkook’s side of the table, which gave him higher chances of starting the game with a score. 
“Hey, Kook?” you called, making him look at you. He froze on the spot as your fingers popped a button on your shirt, letting him see more of your chest, the black lace of the top of your bra a contrast with your skin. “A head start for you.” 
“Jesus, doll–” 
Your smile was almost innocent as you bent down a little more, so you could better look at the table and move your pusher over it to block any of his movements, but it also meant Jungkook had the perfect view of the plump mounds inside your flimsy top. 
You weren’t playing fair and the two of you knew it, too, but you still batted your eyelashes at him, waiting prettily for him to make the first move. 
At least he could say he tried. 
But it was a game lost from the start. 
Not only were you annoyingly good at the game, with fast moves and even quicker blocks, nothing got past you. Unsure if it was his worst nightmare or sweetest dream, your breasts would jiggle and bounce with your movements, which meant Jungkook was too distracted to block any of your own attacks. 
You made one point after the other and when the score was 6x0, you allowed the disk to slip into your side of the table, giving him a pity point. At your seventh point –an ironic number, if he could say so himself–, the table announced your victory. 
While you squealed and celebrated, Jungkook rolled his eyes and huffed at his loss. 
Jungkook hated losing. 
“Why are you called the golden maknae again?” you teased, licking between your lips. 
“You didn’t play fair and you fucking know it.”  he grumbled, shaking his head and avoiding your eyes. 
His attitude made you laugh harder as you walked toward him. “Damn, you’re a really sore loser.” 
“And you’re an unfair player.” 
“You’re cute like this, you know?” you stated and Jungkook’s cheeks betrayed him as he felt the blush creeping up on him, not getting much better as you took his wrist. “Come. I want my prize.” 
Jungkook would give you anything you ever wanted, no matter how annoyed he was. Especially as you walked to the furthest side of the barely empty second floor, the sway of your hips and the round of your ass too enticing for the young man to ignore. 
He had been right before and there really was a coin noraebang up there, which is exactly where you were leading Jungkook to. You pulled the flimsy door open and allowed him to walk in first. 
The cabin was a little claustrophobic, but big enough so his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling and the two of you could stand inside without bumping into each other. The walls were dark blue, reflecting the colorful strobe lights that made the interior feel like a club. A default song was playing, something by an old kpop band his parents used to listen to, as the instructions on how to use the karaoke system were displayed on the LED TV. 
“I don’t have any coins on me.” Jungkook patted his pockets even if he knew he didn’t even carry cash on him. 
“That’s okay, we won’t be singing.” 
Jungkook let his back hit the wall behind him, legs parting slightly as he rested against it. The man was smirking softly as he held you by the hips and let you fall into him. 
“What are we doing, then?” one of his eyebrows arched, even if he could read it in your eyes, and in the way you licked your lips, just what you wanted. 
“You’re my prize.” 
You were standing between his legs, hands on his chest, sliding up to link at the back of his neck as you pulled him closer to you. Jungkook squeezed your hips encouragingly, pressing your body just a bit tighter against him. He let you be the one to press your lips together, mouths moving in slow drags against each other. 
He hadn’t kissed you again since that night in his kitchen, when he came in his pants from dry humping you –mostly because he didn’t know how to ask for it–. Even if you did grow closer and your touches grew more constant. It was obvious he missed your mouth, with how eager Jungkook was to deepen the kiss; bold hands dragging down until your short skirt turned into soft skin and his grip turned firm. You gasped against his mouth, allowing his tongue to lick into yours. 
One of your hands slipped into his long hair and you squeezed it between your fingers, the burning on his scalp making Jungkook kiss you harder. His tattooed hand started inching higher, under your skirt, slow enough that you could tell him to stop if you didn’t want his advances, but all you did was push your ass into his hand. 
Jungkook felt his heart on his throat and blood rushing south with each flick of your tongue, each smack of your lips and each pretty little sound you made. He found lace when he squeezed your ass cheek, making you moan into his lips and press your body harder into his. The pressure on his cock, which was already filling up rather quickly, made him hiss and break the sloppy kiss. 
“Aren’t you glad you lost the game?” you whispered against his mouth, but Jungkook couldn’t answer when you took his bottom lip between your teeth, letting the meaty pillow drag as you bit and pulled. 
“It feels like I won.” he finally answered, long fingers flexing on your ass. 
“For a boob-guy, you seem to like my ass a lot.” you giggled, hand leaving his hair to touch his chest, down to his abs, making him flex his muscles. 
“I like all of you.” he admitted easily, but his hand left your ass to hold your waist. Between kisses delivered to your mouth, he murmured: “You’re my perfect little doll.” 
“Your doll, huh?” 
You weren’t denying it, but Hoseok’s words stubbornly made it to the forefront of his drunk thoughts. ‘They aren’t ours. They don’t belong to us’. It made Jungkook swallow the bitter lump that was starting to form, self doubt trying to grow roots in his heart. Thankfully your lips touching his neck was plenty of distraction. 
You licked and nipped at his skin as his hands roamed your body freely. Jungkook could hear voices and yells outside the booth, Hoseok’s friends playing whatever game was available, but instead of making him nervous, the possibility of one of them walking in on you was exciting. 
He was breathing hard, head tilted back as you explored his neck with your mouth, eyes closed shut. The hand that was resting on his stomach started moving south again; lower and lower until you cupped his erection, humming in appreciation as you felt the size and weight of it. 
Jungkook’s hand stopped at the back of your neck, giving it a light squeeze as you palmed him, rubbing your small hand up and down his cock over his dark denim. 
“Doll.” Jungkook whispered with a whine. You kissed his chin and hummed questioningly. “You feel really good.” 
“I can tell.” there was a smile on your lips as you kissed the mole under his bottom one. 
“But I don’t wanna cum in my pants again…” 
Not only wasn’t it the most comfortable, there was no way he’d spend the rest of the night with his own drying cum in his pants. The probability of him making a mess and someone noticing it was also substantially high. 
“Who said you’re going to?” 
You answered him with a question, but it didn’t make a lot of sense; or at least his blood really was rushing so low on his body that his thoughts were a little sluggish. You dropping to your knees between his legs was clear enough, though. 
“Fuck–” he cursed under his breath, looking at you get eye level with his crotch, hand still rubbing his erection on top of his pants. 
“Is this okay?” you asked, fingers reaching for his button. 
“Yes.” Jungkook hissed, biting his lip to stop a louder moan from echoing in the small booth. 
You batted your lashes at him, quickly undoing his button and zipper and pulling his pants down to his knees. Your pretty eyes widened and your lips parted as you could see the bulge inside his black boxers; apparently you didn’t get a good look at him when you caught him jerking one off with the thoughts of you, as you were taken back by his size. 
Jungkook grew up with six other boys, and boys being boys, they talked, measured and compared. He knew he was well above average, long and also thick. The way you were looking at him, unmoving, as if wondering how you could make it fit, stroked his ego deliciously. 
“Go on, doll.” he encouraged, hips bucking into your hand. “Don’t get shy on me now.” 
“Not shy–” you pouted, fingers hooking on the elastic band of his underwear. “Just highly impressed.” 
His boxers met his pants around his legs and Jungkook’s cock bounced free, leveled with your mouth, making Jungkook dizzy and throbbing. You held him by the base, small hand sliding up and down slowly as you felt the veins and ridges on your palm and fingers that didn’t meet all the way around him, breath heavy as you licked your lips. 
“You’re really big.” you said, face inching closer. 
“Do you not like it?” Jungkook smirked from above you, how you felt about his cock was pretty evident. 
“I like it very much.” you still answered, lifting his cock so you could kiss the underside of it, making him hiss. 
Jungkook’s hands were on his sides, fingers twitching to hold you by the head and push his cock into your mouth. There was no way you didn’t feel it pulsing on your hand, the tip was leaking pre-cum as you kissed up and down his shaft as if you had all the time in the world. 
When you leg go of his cock, your hands rested on his muscular thighs and you looked up at him, mouth open and tongue out. You brought your parted mouth to his cock, letting his tip drag on the flat of your tongue, slight bobbing movements as your wet muscle caught the clear beads leaking from his tip. 
“Close your lips around it, baby.” Jungkook instructed with a horace voice, fingers caressing your pink cheeks as you did so. “Good girl. Now suck on it a little, hm?” 
Your mouth was full, so you didn’t answer him, wrapping your lips tight against his dick and sucking on the head. Your tongue swirling around it inside your mouth was making him sweat and curse obscenities, upper teeth sinking on his bottom lip. The tip of your tongue swiped and poked at his slit, making his hand slip to the back of your head to take hold of your hair. 
“Put some more into your mouth.” Jungkook asked, watching you slide lower, jaw relaxing to fit more of his cock. He loved how obedient you were. “That’s it… Fuck, let it touch the back of your throat–” 
It didn’t take much for him to feel the constriction of your mouth, the tightness of your throat as you pushed him deeper, just barely reaching the middle of his cock. You threatened to pull back, but his hand forced you down. When you looked up to his face, Jungkook searched your eyes for discomfort or uneasiness, but all he found was pleasure and want. 
He watched as you forced him a little deeper, the squeeze around his cock making him groan lowly. Tears rimmed your eyes when he let you pull back; spit connecting your lips to his tip. You spit the excess in your hand and used it to stroke him up and down and you got your breath back. 
“You’re hot like this.” you told him with a raspy voice that made you grimace. “Telling me what to do.” 
“That’s because you’re a doll that likes taking orders, aren’t you?” he teased, collecting your hair in a makeshift ponytail so it’d be out of your way and so that he could better see your face. “And you like being good. Will you be good for me?” 
“Yeah, I’ll be so good.” you whined, pressing your legs together, eyes fluttering as he tightened his grip on your hair. 
“Then open that pretty mouth for me.” he asked, and you did, swollen red lips parting instantly. With his free hand, Jungkook held his own cock and tugged it up, using the hold on your hair to bring you closer. You understood what he wanted, clearly, as you eagerly licked at his balls. “Be gentle, doll… Yeah, just like– oh, fuck.”
You took one of them into your mouth and suckled slowly and carefully while he stroked and pumped his cock, waves and wakes of pleasure washing over him. You mouthed and licked the other one and it was almost too much for Jungkook. 
“Let me have that dirty mouth.” Jungkook sighed, trying to collect himself, but it was almost impossible with the way you looked on your knees for him. 
“You can have anything you want.” 
If only you knew all he wanted to do to you, with you, you might not offer it to him so willingly. 
Jungkook let you take his cock in your hand and you immediately brought it into your warm and wet mouth, slurping and sucking as you were determined to make him reach his end. The idol held onto your hair but didn’t push or pull you, he let you please him however you wanted. 
While your small hand squeezed and stroked what you couldn’t fit into your mouth, your head bobbed with want and need. His tip would constantly hit the back of your throat and you’d swallow around him. Spit was licking from the corners of your lips as you picked up your pace according to the sounds and moans leaving Jungkook. 
You could read his face, notice the spasms of his body, his quickening breath. Jungkook’s balls were drawing up as his stomach tensed, there was a slight tremble to his legs, a little pressure on the back of your head. 
“Gonna cum, doll, fuck–” he admitted what you both already knew. 
It encouraged you to suck him harder, slurping sounds ricochetting on the walls. Your mouth felt so good around him, so tight and warm and messy. You looked like fucking sin; determined, eyes sparkling with unshed tears. Your mouth focused on his sensitive head as your hand tugged him up and down, flicking and twisting fast and hard. 
“Yeah, yeah, don’t stop– ahh, fuck–!” 
Jungkook forgot his surroundings when his lower abdomen clenched and he couldn’t hold back the inevitable no more, not even having the strength to warn you before his cock released thich ribbons of white. You were undeterred as you kept going, slower this time, taking all his load like the perfect good girl, swallowing each spurt, humming and moaning around him. 
You milked him of his last drop, pulling him out of your mouth to kitten lick around his tip to clean him up. When his head tilted forward, half lidded eyes focusing on you, you opened his mouth to let him see you swallowed everything down. 
“Such a good girl for me…” Jungkook cooed, letting go of your hair and caressing your red cheek. “Come up here.” 
You kissed the low of his stomach as you pulled his underwear up, carefully tucking him in, but he handled you to put you back on your feet to smack his lips against yours. You melted into him, arms around his neck as you allowed him to lick around your mouth, tasting himself. 
“I’ll take that water now–” you admitted with a small giggle, sore throat after all your hard work. 
“You can have anything you want.” 
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empress-simps · 2 days
Text
Line That Leads To You
Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.
Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!
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You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.
The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.
Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.
“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.
“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.
“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)
“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.
Complete each other, huh?
Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.
Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.
That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.
Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.
He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.
“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”
“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.
Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.
You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.
“Reggie! Reggie!”
You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.
Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?
You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.
You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.
Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?
The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.
It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.
Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.
“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.
“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.
“What, Moons?”
“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?
“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.
“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.
Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”
Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”
Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “
“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.
“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”
James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”
“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.
The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.
Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.
Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’
Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”
“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”
“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”
Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.
“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.
You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.
Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”
And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.
Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.
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strawb3rrycowz · 1 day
Text
Headcanons: Being the Fourth First Year at Tokyo's Jujutsu Tech
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a/n: coming back strong with a fun little post- i'm a manga reader so i need some joy in this media!
Synopsis: what it's like being one of the first years in Tokyo's Jujutsu Tech
Content Warning: none, really! some swearing and canon typical violence- nothing descriptive
gender neutral! reader
Thank you @saradika for this great divider!
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Meeting Them:
✿𝅼 - You had a later start to the year, arriving just a few days after Nobara
✿𝅼 - Whether you had previous knowledge of the Jujutsu world or not didn't matter- you were definitely not prepared for the chaos you stepped into
✿𝅼 - A tall guy in a blind fold- who you later found out was your teacher and the strongest sorcerer, Satoru Gojo- was happily waving you over
✿𝅼 - That alone wouldn't bother you, if it wasn't for the black-haired boy he was holding by the collar. The kid looked tired and about ready to go home
✿𝅼 - Gojo welcomed you and introduced you to the boy he was holding as Megumi, telling you to not mind his "gloomy attitude"
✿𝅼 - It was going great, Gojo was recommending all kinds of cafes and bakeries near by. Megumi was checking his phone, offering quick responses when needed
✿𝅼 - The calm was broken by loud bickering. When you looked over Gojo's shoulder (which was kind of hard with his height) you watched an angry girl stomp her way over. The closer she got the better you could see that she was knocking her fist against a pink-haired guy's head- something about letting her shopping bags drag on the ground
✿𝅼 - The guy was yelling back at a lower volume, trying to stop her from hitting him more. It was a strange site, but what really stuck out to you was the tell-tale buttons on their uniforms
✿𝅼 - These maniacs were going to be your new classmates
✿𝅼 - After the initial meetings and getting settled into your new room, you were sent out on your first mission. It was just going to be you, so it was nothing more than a few grade fours- maybe grade three at worst
✿𝅼 - The location was an abandoned lake on the country side, and to make sure all went well the other first years tagged along
✿𝅼 - Nobara wasn't happy to be stuck in some swamp and made sure everyone was aware; Yuji had wondered off a few times when he saw cool looking bugs and frogs; Megumi, thankfully, was a big help and guided you on what to expect
✿𝅼 - At some point you broke off from the group, following the trail of cursed energy to the other side of the lake. It was a good distance, and with a sudden fog that rolled in you were basically on your own
✿𝅼 - Unsurprisingly, things didn't go as planned and somehow a semi-grade 2 curse had snuck its way into the area
✿𝅼 - Of course, you're a boss and handled yourself. When you made your way back over, exhausted and beat-up, Yuji and Megumi ran to help you- Nobara called in Ijichi to come pick you all up as she pulled bandages from her bag
✿𝅼 - While the bruises and cuts stung, it was a very good bonding experience! Nobara's bandages were really cute (she let you pick which color and design to make you feel better), and Yuji carried you everywhere for the rest of the day
✿𝅼 - Thank god for Megumi, he was the one talking to Shoko, getting you water, and checking in on you
✿𝅼 - They were all still chaotic, sharing one brain cell when they were together- but they were your idiots who made you feel like family
General HC:
✿𝅼 - If you identify as female/ use she/her/they pronouns, expect Nobara to kind of kidnap you a lot. She's a girl's girl and will back you up constantly, taking you shopping with her and building up your confidence.
✿𝅼 - Continuing the previous head canon, she will drag you away from Megumi and Yuji if they're annoying her while saying something like "y/n and I are leaving before you infect us with your stupid"
✿𝅼 - If you identify as male/ use he/him/they, Yuji is going to constantly be in your space- this boy has no sense of personal bubbles and you can tell. He's definitely the type to joke around- like he for sure jokingly flirts with you
✿𝅼 - Yuji has said the lines: is it gay to kiss my bro morning, noon, and night? no- it's called being a supportive friend!
✿𝅼 - Doesn't matter what gender you are to Megumi- he just hopes you'll help him wrangle the others in (he is so tired)
✿𝅼 - I don't care if you have the biggest brain in the world, it's useless when you're all together
✿𝅼 - It's so much worse when Gojo's there too- like he feeds into the bullshit
✿𝅼 - like you all would be cleaning out the dorm fridge and Yuji would see a jar that's THREE FULL YEARS EXPIRED and go "bet you guys ten bucks I could eat this and keep it down"
✿𝅼 - You're already pulling out a ten, "I know you're a pit, Yuji, but even this is too much- I'm betting against you"
✿𝅼 - Nobara is slamming down a ten before you can even finish, "Y/N'S RIGHT! THERE'S NO WAY YOU CAN HANDLE THAT"
✿𝅼 - Megumi isn't putting any money down, just grumbling and readying a trash can for if Yuji up-chucks
✿𝅼 - Just as Yuji grabs a spoon and is scooping up some of the nasty smelling gunk, Gojo's hand grabs his wrist. None of you are too shocked, your teacher pops in and out whenever he pleases
✿𝅼 - "Now Yuji," Gojo's got a serious expression on as he continues, "I can't let you do this... without giving you some advice!" and he goes right back to being a child "You should eat it in one go so you don't have the chance to regret it!"
✿𝅼 - After letting Yuji go Gojo slides a twenty onto the table, "Double on him keeping it down"
✿𝅼 - Yuji was, in fact, able to keep it down- too bad for you, losing a ten
✿𝅼 - During missions, you all tag along together even if there's only one person assigned. It's great support! Also none of you have gotten horribly injured because of this new system!
✿𝅼 - I feel like at some point you will interact with Sukuna in some way- and that curse does NOT like you
✿𝅼 - To Sukuna, you're not Megumi so that makes you boring. If you happen to have an interesting technique, he'll mess with you a bit if he ever takes control then beat the shit out of you
✿𝅼 - Also, movie nights are a must! Yuji usually doesn't host them after Nobara whacked him over his posters. So you, Megumi, and Nobara switch up who's room is used
✿𝅼 - Yuji always picks the movies and they're always good, somehow they appeal to all of you. Also the amount of snacks is shocking, but they never go to waste!
✿𝅼 - Every movie night you guys fall asleep on each other. Yuji is a literal furnace so all of you end up piling on him when it's cold- or trying to get out of his koala grip during hot nights
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wasn't sure how to end this so...
either way i might do this more, writing these were fun!
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star-wrote · 17 hours
Note
Daryl and reader’s first summer together ? Mood board or headcanon or whatever you like babes 😏🫶 I picture they’ve been together for the fall and a very long harsh winter, and the summer comes around and readers energy just starts to burst in response to the warmth and sunlight, and how that might look for them as a couple 🌻💛😁
Summer Lovin’
Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader | Pre-Prison Era/After Farm Fell
A/N: tysm for the request love !! i adored writing this <3 also i’ve found that i struggle with staying in tenses so this switches from past to present tense :/ whoops
Warnings: typical TWD violence, poor mental health, fluff, angst
Word Count: 750
not my character | images from pinterest
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Winter in the apocalypse sucks.
The group had been on the road for months now, grieving the loss of the Greene Farm; the loss of safety. Which also means the group was going through the harsh winter without a whole lot of warmth. Abandoned shacks and small campfires can only do so much.
You had been cold for too long, and you were sure that Daryl had grown annoyed with you complaining about your frozen toes when you huddled up against him at night.
Worst of all was your mental health. Obviously there’s always an air of depression, (it is the end of the world) but your thoughts were getting dangerously close to “hey let’s jump off that bridge!”
You didn’t want to burden Daryl, but after his gentle prying, you reluctantly agreed to tell him your thoughts. He did his best to reassure you, and he held you a little tighter that night.
Finally, the group had found the prison, a place that could be a forever home after the walkers get cleared. The weather had warmed up too over the last few weeks, and it was finally starting to feel like summer.
It was a pretty calm day, most of the group decided to relax for a day outside before trying to get into the prison. You recall passing a pond not too far from the prison walls. Deciding it was warm enough for a swim, you grabbed a blanket and your knife.
“Where are ya goin’ with that?” Daryl stepped in front of you, nodding at the stuff in your hands.
“Swimming. Wanna come with? I need a bodyguard.” You suggest while smiling up at him.
He grunts out what you have come to know as “yes,” and grabs his crossbow. “Ya sure it’s warm enough?”
You shrug. “Don’t care, I’ve waited long enough.”
He must’ve read your mind because he leads you out past the walls and to the pond that you saw while traveling with the group. You both quickly survey the area for walkers, feeling relieved after there seem to be none.
You strip down to your underwear and toss a smirk over your shoulder to a blushing Daryl, then giggle and wade your way into the pond.
Taking a moment to pause, you admire the sun reflecting off the water. You felt so happy in the warmth of the sun that you could cry.
Daryl watches from a distance, smiling at the peace and happiness that seems to be radiating off of you. He knew you had a tough time on the road during the winter. He was worried about you, but now he’s just glad that you’re smiling.
You swim and float around the pond for about thirty minutes, and then decide that you want to lay on the grass to dry off in the sun. You sigh as the warm grass envelops you.
“Come join me?” You smiled up at Daryl who was sat on a rock.
“Thought I was yer bodyguard.” He said while walking over to you anyway. He found out a long time ago that he couldn’t handle denying you anything.
You giggle as he groans as he lays down next to you. You start to cuddle into him but he gently shoves you away.
“Yer soakin’ like a wet dog righ’ now, dry off first.”
You roll your eyes with a smile, but comply. While putting on your t-shirt, you spot a patch of wildflowers and gasp. You run over to them.
This makes Daryl sit up immediately and grab his knife, anxiety filling his veins. He then sees that you found flowers and relaxes.
Walking over to you, he scoffs. “Scared me half to death, girl.”
While you were smelling the flowers, Daryl crouched down and picked one. He gently moved your hair out of your face and tucked the flower behind your ear. You blush and kiss his cheek.
“I’m glad yer feelin’ better. Was worried ‘bout ya.” He looked away for a moment, then back into your eyes. “Don’t know what I’d do without ya.”
You felt your heart flutter. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
You hugged him tight and stayed like that for a while. You started to hum a song and swayed in his arms.
Daryl scoffs and loosens up so you can sway his body for him. “Whatcha doin’ girl?”
“Dancing with you, duh.”
He smiles and tucks his head into your hair. “Please never stop bein’ you, sunshine.”
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tiyoin · 1 day
Note
Now I'm thinking about twisted anxiety reader being able to sing really well. I feel like there could be some very interesting/funny moments (4 us not reader).
Reader probably only sings in a reclusive area like a forest around the dorm
I wanna say that the forest already has haunting rumors about it ,and when someone (jade or rook) hears reader singing they think that the "ghost" is up and active again. So students start doing a "test of courage" type thing.
I put Jade or Rook being the one to hear reader cuz they're really the only ones that would really be in that area without a reason.
I also know they're intelligent enough to know it's not a ghost ,but start the rumor anyways cuz they want to know who's singing. And it becomes this big thing the school trying to figure out.
Cut to reader losing her mind cuz she like "wow, I didn't know people thought it was that bad. How am I supposed to live, laugh, love ever again??"
When in reality they were just memorized by reader's singing. And they really want to find out who it is.
Bonus points if they film it and sent it to the group chat you posted about earlier. And reader just has to be like 🧍‍♀️ "whattt???? No way!! 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ a random voice in the woods 😱😱"
I'm sorry for sending 2 long asks back 2 back ,but twisted anxiety just gets my head going.
Also if you don't like being sent stuff like this just tell me and I won't send any more. I don't want to over step at all. These are just like head cannons I give to reader ,cuz I just love making things worse for her. Can't let her know what peace is
YOU
hOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET IN MY HEAD 🫵
i’m going to give you the fattest smooch alive you don’t understand. AND I LOVE IT WHEN I GET LONG ASKS!!! so please! ask away i don’t mind, i actually get really flattered that people want to share with me their long, detailed thoughts !! i was actually nervous people wouldn’t like my long responses 😖
no cause that’s ALWAYS one troupe i ALWAYS go back to.
i was thinking about making them a singer, REALLY I WAS- but i had second thoughts cause i thought people wouldn’t like it / maybe people would think its too… y-nie or im trying to make twisted anxiety reader too much, ya know
BUT OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU MEAH MWAH (also dw i got your other ask and fully plan on answering it, this one was just at the top of my inbox 🫶🫶)
but oh my god,,,, HEAR ME OUT;
twisted anxiety reader getting pent up because they. have. no. outlet.
none.
maybe they played a sport in their old world, but no longer can’t because seriously?? going up against beastmen, mermen, fae and just,,, men?! absolutely not.
they can’t do anything fun in ramshackle because of the ghosts can and will find a way to stick their noses into your business. also hello??? no privacy at ramshackle👎👎
honestly, twisted anxiety reader doesn’t have any friends so they can’t blow off steam that way either. and going to the gym is out of the question because 1. anxiety 2.gym bros- and working out at home is… different.
so there has to be a way to let off steam… good thing twisted anxiety reader dilly dallied in everything!!
they want to sing but aren’t confident enough to join the pop music club, and the walls to ramshackle are paper thin.
there’s absolutely no where you can go.
and yet… every time you glance at the forest. you can’t help but wonder…🤔
AND IVE ALWAYS IMAGINED READER SINGING
“everything stays” from adventure time
“love all mine” by mitski
“rises the moon” by liana flores
“sky fall” by adele
“memory” from cats
“listen” by beyoncé
“hopelessly devoted” by olivia newton-john
oh my god i have to make a separate post for this before i completely rot and accidentally write a whole chapter because i’ve been WAITING to write about this and i’d feel bad about making this SUPER LONG
but i can’t imagine rook going for a sunset “hike” (…sure, let’s go with that) and hearing you. belting your little heart to “hopelessly devoted” HAGFJAIWOFOSOWOFOAPEIFOZOQFOXOD
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ROOK IS AWE STRUCK
such passion! such devotion! how marvelously beautiful! rook is stunned.
of course after you finish singing he can hear you moan and groan about trivial things but- rook hunt was not a hunt if he didn’t appreciate the gift the forest provided.
and yet, the carful hunter made a careless mistake. cursing silently, he glared at the twig his boots stepped on before he snapped his head up to the clearing up ahead.
ah, you fled.
to say rook was… upset was an understatement. yes he was able to marvel in your voice, but he lost the privilege to listen to more, to observe from afar.
the strange songs you sang and possibly wrote (what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him) are gone with the wind and the high step of your foot as you vanished into thin air.
rook could easily hunt you down, but he stopped himself after a slight muscle twitch. non non! he was the enjoyer of beauty! not the hunter! yes he hunted beauty but it would go against his very being to trap it instead of let it fly free and continue its song.
so let this be your little secret, okay.
jade would def walk into you singing ‘everything stays’
OR OR ROOK N JADE BOTH TAG TEAMING READER IN THE CHAT SAYING HOW THEY WISH TO MEET THIS BEAUTIFUL VOICED GOREST ‘NYMPH’ SO THEY CAN HEAR MORE OF THEIR SONGS
readers just like;
😟
“time to find a new location☝️”
*there’s no where those two won’t be able to find you fyi*
TWISTED ANXIETY READER WILL NEVER KNOW PEACE‼️‼️ NOT AS LONG AS IM HERE‼️‼️
please send more headcanons i love reading them 🙇🏻🙇🏻
babes this is me n u rn:
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dykefaggotry · 2 days
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the other thing too is that losing weight is NOT a neutral action in the same way that being fat is.
what do I mean by that?
well, it is morally neutral in that no one should be judging you for wanting to lose weight & wanting to lose weight does not make you a bad person
however. it's not a neutral action. in the same way that feminists critique the beauty industry and makeup and constantly get replies like "but I LIKE wearing makeup!!!!" that completely miss the point. that's sort of the same thing happening when fat activists/people that advocate for fat liberation point out the flaws in diet culture and get "but I NEED to lose weight for (xyz "good" reasons) are you saying I'm a bad person?" that completely miss the point.
in an ideal world, people could lose and gain weight without a single bat of an eye. but we don't live in that world. not only is it scientifically proven that most people CANNOT sustainably keep weight they've lost off (and no, not due to lack of self control) and that losing weight (especially rapidly) can have some huge health consequences, but, more relevantly, these ideas of weight and health and beauty are SO tangled up in fatphobia and western beauty standards that it's nigh impossible to reach some Enlightened State where your reason for weight loss is untouched by it.
you want to lose weight to "be healthier?" who told you you were unhealthy? was it your doctor? doctors that routinely suggest fat patients lose weight for every complaint ever including the common cold or a broken bone? was it society telling you being fat is unhealthy even though you ARE healthy? and if you're Not healthy, do you know for sure it's your weight? because thin people can also have high cholesterol and heart problems. there's other ways to fix these things that don't involve weight loss to dangerous degrees, but doctors are already so up their own ass about fat people that they probably didn't discuss anything with you other than "lose weight." does that mean no fat person ever is unhealthy because they're fat? no. but it Does mean that that reason is so tangled up in fatphobia that 100% stating you're free of diet culture when you say it just is Not accurate
you want to lose weight to "feel better about yourself"? well this one's easy and won't be as long as the last. why do you feel that way? who taught you that being fat is something to feel bad about? if you lived 500 years ago before diet culture, would you feel pressure to lose weight to feel better about yourself?
and none of this is to say you CAN'T chose to lose weight. it's your body. you can do whatever the fuck you want with it, good or bad. but when people talk about fatphobia and fat liberation and your first response is "oh but I'm losing weight for the GOOD reasons" stop yourself. ask if that's relevant to the conversation. ask yourself if those reasons ARE neutral. if they're tied to health, body image (including dysphoria!), or how other people perceive you? the answer is no
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fae-morrigan · 4 months
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look, man. one of the things about preaching the importance of Community is you have to understand, you need to believe that shit and act like you actually care about the other 'undesirable' members of society. specifically in public. yes, even about children, teenagers. yes, even people with bad opinions on things. yes, even about people who are 'annoying' to you. because guess what? being Alive means you will be all 3 of those things at various points in your life, multiple times for multiple years. don't you wish others would be kind to you?
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hxltic · 8 months
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ghost yellin pt. 2!! (and 2k followers. omg.)
(mention of blood n knives n stuff in here)
pt. 1~~~
It was still early in the morning when your puffy eyes blink open. Despite the mission that had your arrival around 3-ish in the morning, it was still the crack of dawn, which meant the start of your day, mission or not.
The warmth you had longed for encased you, but today, it felt unfamiliar.
You hadn’t forgotten about yesterday (or earlier today). And even though what happened upset you, you’d still wanted him, so you could feel the comfort your father never gave you after an argument. You’d never received a genuine apology from him, just an offer for new shoes or to go to your favorite restaurant that day.
Even in anguish after what he did, you still wanted his touch. Or that may have been what you thought, because now you were peeling his strong arms off you, and creeping to the bedside. You cautiously swing your legs over and slowly step to the door, but even though you were going unbelievably slow, the pain underneath your feet made you wince.
“Wait—”
There’s a gruff voice that your back is turned to, making you jump at the realization he was awake. You had been taught all your life to fight when your fight or flight response flickers, but he noticed how you almost bolted towards your room.
He had been awake the whole time. He’d vouched to himself he wouldn’t close his eyes until your breaths were regular again, but even after they had, he’d barely gotten any sleep. If he had tears left to cry, one would’ve slipped.
Whenever he did fall to the night, in any circumstance, his body physically would prevent him from staying such. He was a light sleeper to another extreme. His body was trained by none other than trauma and instinct. So when he felt you raising his arm, he’d awakened and watched you do everything silently.
He would’ve said something, but he didn’t know what. An apology would sound fake in this situation.
Ghost was a hands-on man, so he moved. His large body flipped the covers off him and hastily brought itself to you.
The last time you’d let him get close, he screamed in your face. You took an involuntary step back, but had you thought about it you probably would’ve taken it anyway. His quick steps pause.
He gazes into your frozen eyes, glistening and pretty even in upset, but underneath carrying fear and shock.
Seeing him, one side of you wanted to apologize for not taking your job seriously, even though you did, or say you were sorry for the other things he mentioned. And you may have when you were 13, but you were a strong woman that built off men’s bullshit over the years, so you hold your ground.
He shrunk himself and moved effectively before you. No unnecessary movements.
“Please. Wait.”
You could tell he was trying to make his voice soft, but the octave and accent just did not allow it. He was trying though.
Do you book it, or stay?
You stay, to hear him. He recognizes your stance as one specifically military-taught, ready to move.
“I didn’t mean to yell at you. I should’ve been better,” he started. You’d come to realize even with small issues, he was an okay apologizer. “I’m sorry. You’re the last person who deserved that.”
He inspected the way you heard him but just stood there awkwardly. You were never awkward around him. In fact, he was the awkward one.
His heart dropped at how visibly uncomfortable you looked. He wanted to touch you—to take all your problems away, but it wouldn’t work this time. Not when he was the problem.
Ghost was the type of person to do anything for you, anything to get you back. You were the only one who saw him as Simon now, ever since the others died or were killed. He ruined that.
He let the mask get the best of him, finally turning into the murderous, scary man the world sees him as, everyone but you. You’d never been afraid of him, and he himself had changed that.
So in the silence he scans your beautiful eyes again, the brightness they usually reflect gone and replaced. You blink at him like a puppy. A small, scared puppy.
He’d made you cry. He’d made you cry.
He wasn’t expecting forgiveness, or your usual unconditional love, but the silence was too much to bear. He knows what he did, but he genuinely has no idea how he could make it up to you. Once you realize the conversation was over, and that’s all he had to say, you turn your head and limp past the doorway to your room. You were going to cry again.
But that was far from what he wanted to say.
He didn’t realize it when a tear of his own bundled up under his blonde eyelashes, a feeling so rare that people’s jokes about him being a robot could seem true. It had been so long, but watching you sadly walk away from him was enough.
The door was wide open, but he stood there, feeling more useless than he ever had.
These were the times he wished his mother was here. To tell him what to do. To spread the emotional knowledge of loving someone so much it pained you, something she had perfected over the years. Instead, he picked up the brutalities of his father. And he will never forgive him for that.
. .
You’d avoided him for an entire day, almost two, despite being in such close proximity and having to do everything with the squad. He didn’t know whether to leave you be or try again and again. Ultimately, he picked the first. That didn’t mean there weren’t subtle things to get your attention though.
He couldn’t think about yelling again. But it was only at you. So everyone else was graced with their lieutenant in a worse mood than he’s usually in, but they wouldn’t dare ask what was up or say anything to you. Actually, they had barely spoken to you like they had orders not to.
Ghost was rarely in the common room anyway, but now he was really tucked away in his quarters. He preserved his words, though even then they were still snappy. He had an attitude, yes, but he’d come to his senses enough to reflect and prevent himself from saying anything potentially hurtful.
He’d cherished the moments you had no choice but to be close to him a lot more than before, and his voice was barely even the tone of regular speech. Because now, he was scared.
He’d seen how bad relationships can turn, and it doesn’t help it was the man he’s seen all his life ruining what a woman gave him. He doesn’t want to be like that. And if he already has been, he tries to calm himself at night by running through his head “you’re already better than him by trying to fix it,” like a mantra. He’s cried the nights without you. He felt like he was floating away all the time, away from the Earth and the people around him. He barely knows himself anymore.
Little does he know, the time spent without him converted your sadness to anger. Rage.
He has the audacity to scream in your face? After all you do for him? After you put your life on the fucking line and take bullets for him every day?
With your father, it never did convert to anger, because you refused to let it. Being a child, you were way too dependent on him emotionally and physically. He was still your dad, you’d think.
And yes, while you loved Simon, there wasn’t the biological connection to pressure you to him. He was just a man. And if there’s anything you learned yourself, it was that you wouldn’t be pushed around by one.
So the day progressed on with an assignment. The troops were sent out, Ghost in charge.
He had made an order to surround the building, stay hidden in tall grass. A few would push in. They were armed and dangerous.
His voice was loud through the comms, going directly through the headset clear as day. Your team pressed forward alongside his. He had made every order around the fact that you needed to be right next to him, always in view, so he could keep his watchful eye out.
You crouched around the corner, waiting for command. You whisper in mic to your own squad, instructing them to watch for third-party while everyone’s idle.
The second he calls it, you all infiltrate right after smoke grenades set off. It was quickly cleared of the criminal within a few minutes because there weren’t many to take out, just a few in nooks and crannies, but one of them had caught you through a closet door. It had small blinded windows in it.
A quick sharp pain let you know there was a knife drilled into your side. It was small, and could be a lot deeper, but it still hurt like a bitch.
You had taken worse, so you gunned him down with a swift turn and ignored it. The adrenaline was medicine.
Once everyone returned to base with evac, people noticed the spot of red on your uniform but brushed it off as a battle scar. Until they saw the knife. It would be stupid to remove it.
“That looks pretty bad, you should get that patched up,” someone says. Someone you didn’t know, probably from another unit. You refrain from saying no shit and keep walking to the infirmary.
You finally decide remove it with added pressure to the wound, keeping the gauze close and the slim slit through your skin tight. The adrenaline was wearing off now and everything started to come back to you. You groan loudly when you touch it.
Red stains your fingers. It wasn’t deep but it had to be pulled out, and standing would be hard. You sit to see what you were doing.
“Fuck!” you yell.
The pain was ten times worse when you sat down, the fold of your body at the hip right underneath the opening. You feel like you could imagine the knife scraping other parts of your insides.
Suddenly the door opens. No one other than Ghost stands there, fully in gear, searching for the source of the cry. Once he locates you, you barely hear him murmur “bloody hell.” You glance up at him, then back down to what you were doing. He tries to ignore the equivalent stab in his heart at that, the one that matched the way his face drops at the sight of you. You would be able to see the white of his eyes through the mask if you’d look at him.
You were unconsciously trembling, attempting to mentally prepare yourself to pull the knife out slow. The man before you just watched.
“Get out,” you demanded.
“No,” he calmly replies. Once again, barely above a whisper, but heavy with accent.
You visibly roll your eyes and continue picking at the knife, trying to find the easiest way to retrieve it. Of course Ghost would take this time to be near you when you can’t run away from him.
He removes his gloves and opens the cabinets beside him, getting peroxide and other medical things. He walks to you with them in hand, and you bring it upon yourself to completely ignore him.
He steadily drops to a knee in front of you so you see eye to eye. You hiss when you pull at one side and it doesn’t work.
Softly, he breaks the silence, “When did this happen?”
No response. He was looking you dead in the eyes despite how horrible at eye contact he usually is.
“When did-“
“Earlier, Lieutenant.” You speak. He knows this was you digging at him. It worked, but he brushes it off.
He reaches his bare hands rid of the supplies up to help you. He was mad at nobody other than himself for not being there.
“Stop,” you shoo his hand away, tending back to your wound. Even though he wanted to help, he backed off.
To be honest, you had no idea what you were doing, and he’d probably had this happen a thousand times. He was inevitably better at medical anything compared to you.
“How did it happen?” He waits. Wasting time talking to him will have you bleeding out. The knife was a little under halfway visible.
“I was taking my job seriously, Lieutenant.”
He cringes at the words he’s shameful to call his own. He wants nothing more than for you to at least be on speaking terms with him, but even that he knows he doesn’t deserve. He sighs deeply.
“I’m sorry, let me help you. Please,” he begs.
“I don’t want your help, and you don’t want mine. So we can keep it that way.”
What he said that night was far from true; you did more than just help him. He was dependent on you. He surveys the way you hiss at the straining feeling, attempting to take deep breaths between tugs, but only making it worse. He won’t let everything you’re throwing at him break him down in this state.
“Grab it from the top, do it all at once. Then stop the blood immediately.”
You huff in annoyance at his words, causing yourself pain from your own irritation. But, he did know what he was doing, so you followed the orders. He inspects you.
You tug on the knife with a painful deep breath and moan at the pain, shutting your eyes. The view alone gives Simon whatever you’re feeling tenfold.
It only goes up about a centimeter. It hurt so bad though, your breaths were heavy and enhancing the stinging sensation. Your audible whimper was enough for the man in front of you to take action.
You almost forgot how mad you were at him from the pain, so when his hands reached up to you, you just let them. His right applied pressure to the sides. He couldn’t care that it stained his rough, pale hands. The left rests on your hand planted on the seat, then he instructs you to lay down. It’ll avoid scratching any more areas inside by stretching out.
“Relax. It’ll hurt, but you got it.”
You don’t respond to this, and stare up at the ceiling. You still didn’t want to look at him.
Simon has to remember you were still fairly untouched in comparison to his background in the military, the scars and scratches proof to where he’s been. He’s not used to being gentle. He’s around grown men for god’s sake.
And while he knows you’re strong, he wishes someone took the time to allow him some vulnerability back then.
You’re on your back, awaiting his next move. He hovers over you.
“I’mna to count to three, alright? I know you can do it.”
You blink, but he knows you can hear him. Somehow it hurts worse to breathe so your chest runs shallow.
“One,” he starts.
Were you ready? He was going to-
You scream loud enough to have the entire base questioning what was going on before he gets to three, but Simon’s face doesn’t falter from his soft expression as he accurately rips the object out of you. Your hands subconsciously reach for his, then grip him with a pure strength you didn’t even know you possessed. You yelled a long line of curses with tears pricking at the corners of your eyes until it all ended as fast as it came.
You were heaving and your face was hot, sweat gathering along your hairline.
“There you go,” he praises, his movements were quick and efficient. The tape was being placed over the filled injury. “Good girl.”
You were breathless, tired, and red. You wanted to lay down.
“It hurts, Simon,” you whisper.
“I know baby, I know.”
. .
You laid in bed with the dinner one of the soldiers brought you. Simon walks in sometime later, his hand cupped.
“You alright?”
He steps in beside your bed, sitting on the covers. He releases some painkillers right next to the water on your nightstand.
You just nod.
He nods approvingly back, then rests his forearms on his thighs. There’s an uncomfortable silence. An uncomfortable silence.
The ink on his arm was visible along with the scars he’s carried. Some new, some old. It’s a simple t-shirt that stops at the bicep, but he never likes to have his arms out because he’s never comfortable with them showing.
“I just wanted to say—”
“I…don’t want to hear it.” You shut him down.
“Please?”
His ocean eyes survey yours for some type of mercy, some hint you’ll hear him out again. He has concluded that he can speak, but the worst that can happen is you’ll stop listening. You can’t really walk away.
And this was the first time his please seemed to end with a question mark.
“I didn’t mean to yell, but I did, and it hurt you. Even though I just aided you, I did it as a partner. Not just a comrade. You are great at what you do, but you mean a lot more to me than just business—I love you, because you see me differently than everyone else.”
Knowing Simon, it probably did take him the whole day and a half to come up with that and relay it. This tugged your heart strings a little, but then it all came back to you.
“On top of calling me useless you yelled in my face. What were you so angry for anyway?”
Truthfully, he felt that had he told you the real reason, It’d make him look worse. But you deserved it.
“One of the soldiers in another unit looked into my background. Found out about an old mission and the people behind it.”
You hadn’t known much about Simon’s life, because he never talks about it, but you knew enough. It was the mission where he was set up. Betrayed.
You would be pissed too.
But his head hung low in shame, angry that he let an old part of him rekindle in the form of fury. He let out said fury on you.
“Regardless, it was uncalled for. Just think on it, yeah?” He pleads. He’s not sure what he’s telling you to think on, though he doesn’t know the active status of your relationship. But he understands how degrading what he did was, and he’ll never forgive himself for it.
But you already had an answer.
“I don’t have to think on it,” you say.
His head whips around, the sadness on his face replaced with shock, and the crinkles coming to form between his brows in confusion. He’d expected the worst, but the worst was what he deserved.
“I’m still very upset. But I don’t hate you. I want you to go to therapy,” you insist.
On the inside, Simon was thrilled. This is the best outcome, better than anything he’d conjured up in his head, and he’d been told a billion times to go to therapy. If it meant being able to hold you again, he’d stay the whole day on a little couch instead of downing prescribed medication that wasn’t working every night.
“I’ll think about what to do from there. But I don’t want it to happen again, because I promise I know what my decision will be the next time,” you declare. He took this message more seriously than he takes Price some days. There was a fire in your eyes to show him how serious you were, and that you’d get up extra close to him just to point your finger in his face if you could.
He understood you hadn’t forgave him, but was giving him some type of redemption. So he could prove himself.
And he was damn good at proving himself worthy of things, hence the Lieutenant in front of his name.
this a lil long. @thesecretwriter @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet @jjmoonjj @bigmannico @bloodyquillink-blog @boggiesho @earth-to-lottie @e1fade @instantplaiddream @mentallyillartist @stillinracooncity @missborntodiex @rhyanna6012 @hao-ming-8 @starrrchiato @goth-boi-atlas @keiva1000 @pampeop @sleepy-time-dreamy @laurenbenoit70 @tojis-big-daddy-milkers @jstarrs23423 @madameducyberversailles @eri-channnnnnn @schmelscorner @commandertorinshepard @lua83727 @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @nyannyanmochi020 @p1nkliquor
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areislol · 4 months
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"would you kiss me for $10 or the hottest person in the world for $1000?"
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ft— blade, gepard, dan heng, jing yuan, luocha, welt, sampo, luka, argenti, dr. ratio
warning — none, just fluff! might be ooc, established relationship, gn! reader, no yanqing for this ;( mentions of kissing, might be cringe..? chinese names are simplified. not proofread.
a/n— y'all i apologize if they're ooc (can't justify it i haven't even played hsr yet) so yes. ENJOY as this is my second time writing for 'em
wordcount. 4.2k
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刃 blade
✧ .... he knew it was one of those.. silly media questions that couples do to one another. and he hates you for actually doing them (not really he loves you too much)
✧ he continued to stay silent as he sat on the bench, watching as you sat beside him—anticipating for his response that will decide whether or not he will sleep on the couch or not.
✧ "ugh you big bum just answer the question!!" you groan, slumping down on the bench.
✧ blade cocks his head and raises his brow, smirking at you. "you mean the complex question that will probably lead you unhappy if i don't say the answer you were hoping for and then not talk to me for the next couple of hours as you're petty and—"
✧ you quickly shut him up with your palm over his mouth, you were now mad at him for being too god damn right. warmth spread to your cheeks as you stared at him, completely flustered.
✧ "you better shut that mouth of yours baldie." you threaten, still keeping your palm over his mouth when you felt the icky, wet and textured feeling gliding across your palm, it was his tongue.
✧ wasting no time you pulled your hand back and stared at your palm before vigorously wiping it on your shirt, absolutely disgusted. "ewwww!! and you still haven't answered my question!!" you pout.
✧ blade huffs (he's very sassy), "yeah not after calling me baldie. i'm not even bald." he was so serious about it, it was very amusing to you.
✧ you pout even more, scooching closer to him. "okay i'm sorry for calling you baldie.. and yes you aren't bald. now will you please answer my question?!" blade continues to glare at you, thinking about his answer. well, he was only pretending to anyway.
✧ he already knew his answer the second the question slipped out of your mouth, obviously, kiss you for $10 (credits). even if it was for $1000 he could easily get that amount of money in a day and plus, you are the most hottest person in the entire universe.
✧ but he decided to tease you, he put on his thinking face, tapping his finger on his chin. "hm... i really don't know it's so hard to choose..." he hums, looking down at your face as he smirks in amusement at your silly little mad face.
✧ "so hard? SO HARD FOR WHAT????" you asked, leaning in closer. oh you were for sure getting irritated now.
✧ blade chuckles before engulfing you in a tight hug as you sat on his lap, face buried in his chest. "of course kiss you for $10, i don't need $1000 anyway."
✧ "what about the pretty part?" "you are the hottest of them all, y/n."
✧ you hummed in content, happy with his answer before speaking again. "see, it wasn't a trick question at all." blade rolls his eyes. "uh huh... so you weren't going to quote-on-quote, 'ground' me if i said the wrong answer?"
✧ "....no...."
✧ (btw he was still a lil hurt when you called him baldie. like wow, it really hit him deep)
杰帕德 gepard
✧ the second you asked him the question he did not hesitate and answered within 1 billion light speed.
✧ "you of course! i don't want to a random stranger who i don't know for $1000, i don't need that money when i have you."
✧ "oh— gepard—" yeah, you almost burst into tears at his answer. it was so geniune, sweet and adorable. even his face said it all!! he looked at you with such sincere eyes as he told you his reply!!
✧ gepard almost freaked out thinking he said the wrong thing when he saw the tears welling up in your eyes, he immediately held onto your shoulders, apologizing if he did anything wrong.
✧ you shake your head no and wipe away your tears dramatically, "n—no i'm fine gepard i'm just— i didn't expect you to say your answer so quickly! when i saw other couples doing it the other person is always hesitating or something."
✧ gepard is confused, was this a test or something? (poor baby doesn't know) and so you have to explain to him what the trend is all about and all that jazz.
✧ he doesn't think that it's a bad trend or anything, if anything he encourages you to ask him more questions!! anything you ask, he will reply asap 100%!!
✧ and so you asked more questions.
✧ "you don't care about the money gepard? that's a lot though, $1000!" you exclaim, gepard shakes his head and smiles, "i already said why i don't need that money, love, i don't need the money when i have you, you're priceless."
✧ EUGHHHHHHHHH HE JUST HAS TO HIT YOU WITH THAT. you smiled back and gave him a kiss on his cheek before backing away. "that's so sweet of you... okay next question, who is the hottestperson in the world?"
✧ gepard only stares into your eyes, mesmerized by your face, his eyes are trained on you and only you as his thumb caresses your cheek. "you, of course, you're the most hottest.. although i'd rather use prettiest instead, you are the most prettiest and amazing person in the entire universe."
✧ safe to say his face was peppered with kisses after that, not that he minds it.
丹恒 dan heng
✧ "what kind of question is that?" is the first thing he says, looking at you in confusion as he closes the book he was reading.
✧ you had just entered his room, phone in hand before asking him the question out of the blue so he assumed you saw something from the media which now... lead to this.
✧ you shrug, going back to your question. "don't be trying to change the topic, what would you do? kiss me for $10 or kiss the hottest person in the world for $1000?" you repeated, your brows furrowing. to dan heng, it was crazy scary how you looked right now, so desperate for his answer.
✧ "well obviously the hottest person in the world for $1000, that' so much money!" he replied, knowing what this was going to lead him to. "......so... you would kiss the most hottest person in the world for more money?"
✧ dan heng cringes as he nods his head slowly. your eyes narrowed as you began to glare at him, soon, you stormed out of his room, pissed, and with a right as well.
✧ dan heng sighs in defeat before getting up from his seat and following you to where you always went when you were mad, to the kitchen.
✧ and he was right, you were in the kitchen just snacking on food you just bought the day before, when you spotted him you turned around, your back facing him. "baby c'mon im sorry i was just joking.."
✧ hearing him call you "baby" did something to you but you didn't want to give in just yet. you were mad at him still. you pout (not like he can see you but still) and continue to munch on your food angrily.
✧ "i didn't mean to, i promise i was just joking. i would much rather kiss you for $100 i pinky swear." .... "pinky swear?" "pinky swear."
✧ safe to say you accepted his apology as he absolutely peppered your face with millions of kisses before engulfing you in his arms.
✧ "you're ridiculous..." dan heng sighs, resting his eyes. "yeah well you love me so" well, he can't deny that.
景元 jing yuan
✧ jing yuan is definenetly doing the mathematical calculations in his head right now. because what in tarnation are you talking about?!
✧ he stares at you like you're crazy for a second before sighing, looking down and closing his eyes shut (he reminded you a lot like a disappointed dad...)
✧ "what do you mean? why are you asking me this out of the blue..." for one, he is a tad bit afraid that if he says the wrong thing you will sentence him to three (3) days to sleep on the couch, yeah, you banish him from your SHARED bedroom multiple times when he said the "wrong thing".
✧ you repeat your question again, waiting for his answer. "what a silly question, i would kiss you of course, with or without the $10." he breathed, planting a kiss on your forehead before pulling away and smirking, he knew that that was what you wanted to hear and the kiss was the cherry on top.
✧ for a few seconds you just sat there, too flustered to do anything. YES YOU KNEW IT WAS JUST A FOREHEAD KISS BUT IT'S JING YUAN OKAY
✧ "hm? is something the matter, my love?" he questions, leaning in closer to your face, he was much more taller than you (obviously) so he was quite literally towering over you, his face was so close to yours.
✧ you shake your head before going in for a small and chaste kiss and closing your eyes, you can feel the smile on his lips as he pulls you closer to him by your waist and deepens the kiss. your brain was starting to get fuzzy as you felt more and more delirious. jing yuan just knew how to make you fold.
✧ "hey! this isn't an excuse to make out with me you know?" you pull away breathless, looking quite dazed just for this "simple" kiss. jing yuan hums, resting his head on your shoulder before speaking up.
✧ "you know you love it." at his words you sigh and shake your head, "well i can't deny that..." you reply with a smile as you run your fingers through his soft hair.
✧ a few minutes go by in silence, you assume that jing yuan was asleep by how calm and quite he was, when the silence was broken. "does this mean i can sleep in our shared bedroom?"
✧ your brows furrowed at his words, was that all he was thinking about? "mmmmmmm now that you mentioned it..." "no." you chuckled, patting his head. "i know i know, yes, you get to sleep in our shared bedroom."
罗刹 luocha
✧ "what an odd question.." luocha replies, observing your very serious face. he found it amusing how you looked so serious after asking such a silly question.
✧ you whine and shake his arm, "just answer the question luocha it is very serious!! i need to know your answer!!" .... okay yes apparently it was very serious as you literally called him by his name and not some cute nickname.
✧ luocha offers you a soft and tender smile, the one he always does every time he spots you and or is with you (it never fails to make you swoon), "of course you, i don't need the money when i have you, are you doubting something my dear?"
✧ you shake your head at his words, happy with his answer. "no, everything's fine don't worry! thanks lychee." luocha then engulfs you in a hug all of the sudden, the scent of flowers filled your nose as his hair tickled your face.
✧ "your hair's in my face babe—" you mumble, moving the strands of hair off your face. luocha quickly apologized before pulling away, he cups your cheeks and stares deep into your eyes, which confused you.
✧ luocha continues to stare at you for a good hot minute, he was thinking about something. "say, did anything happen to you that prompted you to ask me that question? did someone do something? did i do something wrong?"
✧ he's so cute. anyway, you shake your head. "no, why?" luocha sighs in relief before taking his hands off your cheeks. "i don't know i assumed something happened that made you question me with that.. question. thank the lord i didn't do anything."
✧ kissing his cheek, you sighed dramatically, "well actually something did happen.. a certain somebody hasn't given me any attention for the past couple of hours"
✧ luocha playfully rolls his eyes, "my fault, princess/prince" and that's how he ended up peppering and littering you with kisses all over your face and no, you couldn't escape him even if you wanted to.
瓦尔特 welt
✧ if you keep asking him such questions he's only going to age more, physically, you're going to give him too many wrinkles if you keep on making him furrow his brows and frown.
✧ all you can hear is him heaving a great big sigh as he sets his mug down on the table, staring down at you. "the hottest person in the world?" he asks, you nod your head while smiling, you somewhat knew his answer already.
✧ "well it's you of course." he replied without any hesitation, you hummed and gave him a peck on his cheek. "right answer."
✧ "but why $10 only? you're worth more than that you know." he added, you only shrugged your shoulder. "i don't know it's what the text says" "the text?" "yeah, look!" you held your phone up and pointed at the screen where there was a couple, one of the partner asked a question—the same one you asked him.
✧ the other partner states that they would kiss the most hottest person in the world for $1000, it then showed a clip of the person sleeping on the couch. the answer was easy really, welt didn't understand how bad one person can mess something up.
✧ "well he was stupid, answer was easy." you agreed and put your phone away. "simple right? i knew you would say the right thing" you continued, welt only smiles in pride. "of course, i know what you want to hear, but i hope you know i would never kiss a random person, even if they were the hottest."
✧ your heart melts as he speaks, his words really sinking into you. "awwhh welt~" next thing he knows you're absolutely hugging the shit out of him (and rubbing your face in his chest), not that he minds.
桑博 sampo
✧ "well would you kiss me for $10 or kiss the hottest person in the world for $1000?" sampo repeated your own question back in a somewhat sassy tone. you were a bit shocked to say the least, i mean, how dare he not answer your question but answer your question with the same exact question!! (same energy ykyk)
✧ but obviously, you're used to his antics as you roll your eyes playfully, closing your phone. "seriously, shampoo. answer the question." "woah woah—shampoo? i said to call me anything but that!" he whines as he uses his hands to talk (as usual), very much exaggerating everything.
✧ you shrug your shoulders with an unamused "hmph" and don't reply any futhur. sampo dramatically sighs in defeat. "but babes, if you really think about it $1000 is a lot of money.." you raise your brow at his answer. "you're only thinking about the money?"
✧ sampo shakes his head, he grabs a hold of your hands while looking at you so sincerely it kind of scared you as he was always so... non-serious. "no, of course not. but just think about all the things i can buy for you...and me...food, flowers, more food, clothes and so much more! wouldn't you want all of that?"
✧ you think about it for a second and replied, "well although those are nice, wouldn't you much rather kiss me instead for $10? we can.. still buy something with $10, plus my kiss is unlike any other!"
✧ "yeah, i know." sampo snickers, upon his reply you narrow your eyes at him, your unamused face screamed "what do you mean by that?" in a menacing type of way. sampo quickly clears his throat before you could get any ideas (you had already gotten a few).
✧ "what i'm tryna say is that yes, i would rather kiss you for $10 but.. i think—" you immediately cut him off with a solemn face. "sh. i don't want to hear anymore of you." sampo can see that you're visibly upset at his answer. shit. he didn't mean to say the wrong thing.
✧ his grip on your hand tightened as he moved in closer to you. "no, wait babe i didn't mean that. i was just playin' i promise i would rather kiss you, your kisses are a one in a billion and i really don't care about the money and—" once again, you cut him off, but for a good reason this time.
✧ you giggle softly and shush him up with your index finger pressed up against his soft lips. "i know what you mean sampo, don't go on a big rant now you aren't in trouble." a clear sigh could be heard from sampo. "thank the stars.."
✧ " but babe! you haven't even answered my question." you gawk at sampo. "... oh well..."
✧ and now it was your turn to tease him, be prepared for a pestering and probing sampo!
卢卡 luka
✧ luka is quite stunned at first because for one, the question was out of nowhere, and two, WHAT DID HE DO THAT MADE YOU QUESTION HIM (you have a habit of asking him random questions out of nowhere)
✧ "did i do something wrong?!" is the first thing he says, he says it like it's urgent it caught you off-guard. you shake your head no and chuckle. "no, why? it's just a question don't worry."
✧ as you both were beside each other, sitting down on your couch, luka leans in closer to you where his nose is just barely touching yours. "well.." he whispers before giving you a long and tender kiss on your lips, it was soft and delicate, it wasn't intense or hot—just simple.
✧ "you, obviously." he begins as he pulled away slowly, his deep, sparkling blue eyes staring down at yours so softly and genuinely. "plus in my eyes you're the most prettiest person in the entire world, actually—no, in the universe!" the way he beamed at you as he spoke his words made your heart flutter. he was so sweet.
✧ luka's sweetness and innocence of a child (not quite literally) never failed to make you tear up, his charisma and optimistic personality pulled you in. but back to the moment. "awww luka you're too sweet ☹️" your cute lil pout made luka's head jump out of his chest and right back in, you were all too adorable.
✧ "oh you know it's nothing.. just stating the facts!" he chuckles, wrapping an arm around your neck and pulling you closer to him where your hips touched each other.
✧ luka rested his head on top of yours, his chest heaving up and down calmly. "wait, so you would kiss me even if you only got $10 other than $1000?" you asked, not bothering to move your body to face him.
✧ "yup! i would still kiss you for free too, money or not. if you still don't believe me.." luka lifted his head off yours as he faced you, you mirrored his actions and turned to face him. "hm?"
✧ luka began to kiss your face, first your cheeks, then it was your nose, then your forehead and finally, you're lips. this time he pressed his lips onto yours for longer as he used his left hand to cup your cheek. everything about this moment was wonderful.
✧ when he finally lets go, you both are left breathless and yet still yearning for more. "do you believe me now?"
银枝 argenti
✧ argenti is quick with his response, catching you off-guard. he was just standing out in the public (well more like posing to you and other people as he always looks like he's a model posing for his pictures) when you came running to him with your phone in hand, looking quite excited. which got him excited as well.
✧ but despite the silliness of the question he quickly answers your question with no hesitation. "why, you of course. i would kiss you any day, anytime and anywhere." he spoke with such sincerity and calmness it instantly made you fold. his soft and luminous grey eyes boring into yours.
✧ argenti moves in closer to you where his chest is looming over you. but even if he was taller than you, you were quite used to him doing that so you weren't afraid at all. "why do you ask?" you shake your head and smile up at him, happy with his answer. "nothing special!!"
✧ argenti stays silent for a couple of seconds before cupping your cheeks with his hands, your hands reaching to hold his with yours, the cold, hard metallic texture. you stare up at him, confused, but don't speak. you wait for him to do whatever he needed to do.
✧ before you knew it he had leaned down, his lips barely touching yours, his hooded eyes staring down at your lips. a kiss. his lips were so warm and soft, they did not part whatsoever, it was just soft, slow, gentle and sensual kiss. his lips were softly pressed against yours for a good hot second when he gradually pulled away, the tingling and exciting sensation still lingered on your lips.
✧ when both of your lips parted, it seemed like you two had forgotten that you were out in public, unaware of the many stares that were coming your way (i mean can you blame them? they are witnessing a very gorgeous couple passionately kissing. but not in that way.)
✧ after argenti pulled away and observed your face for any signs of discomfort the corners of his lips began to pull up after seeing you smile shyly. you were so adorable. "and that would be $1010." he whispered, gently pinching your cheeks.
✧ a cheerful and tender grin grows on your face at his words. but before you could utter a word or sound your eyes land upon a rose being held right in front of you by argenti. his signature rose.
✧ "a freshly picked flower for you, my rose." he breathed, his other hand pressed against his chest as he slightly bows. what a gentlemen he is. you smile in embarrassment before gratefully take his flower and slightly bowing before thanking him and smelling the rose. "thank you so much! it's breathtaking...."
✧ "just like you."
真理医生 dr. ratio
✧ "be completely and utterly serious with me with me right now." you added, using big words to really make him think about it. not like he ever does (he's always thinking logically).
✧ ratio sighs, yes, he gave you that sigh. "what? don't give me that sigh. just tell me your answer and then go on with your life again!" you said, doing your sigh this time. ratio is clearly and visibly thinking about his answer.
✧ "wow. are you really thinking about your answer?" you spoke, raising your brow in complete confusion. ratio shoots you a stare and shakes his head. "yes, really, but the answer is simple, you." although his answer was what you wanted to hear you wanted to know why. i mean, he was your boyfriend after all but still.
✧ "i thought you said you would let me go on with my life after answering your non-sensical question." he replied bluntly, cocking his head to the side. you mumbler under your breath as he was right. "yes well just one more thing, please?" and of course, he could never say no to you.
✧ "simply because i love you. i don't need to kiss anybody, especially a random stranger that is quote-on-quote, extremely attractive, for $1000 or more. even if somebody offered me a million i wouldn't take it, simply because they are not you. your kisses are different and have a different feel compared to theirs. and i am 100% positive that their lips are probably not the best unlike yours. not only that but it would be completely unreal for me to meet someone extremely attractive in the world as nobody is. but to me, you are the most wonderful and amazing person i have ever met. and not only that but—"
✧ you roll your eyes playfully before shushing him up with a finger pressed up against his lips. "okay okay i get it smarty pants" you giggled, removing your finger from his lips. ratio only grinned upon your words.
✧ "hm, well that's a good response. you're the best!" you beamed before kissing his temple and pulling away, heat rushing to your cheeks.
✧ as you were about to walk away you stopped in your tracks, causing him to stop what he was doing and looking your way. you turned around, facing him. "did you mean everything you said?" you questioned softly. the corners of ratio's lips curled up. "of course, i promise."
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furiousgoldfish · 7 months
Text
Which ones of these arbitrary trauma-induced rules do you follow?
No spending money, ever. what if you need it later and your life depends on it.
Assume that all strangers are 3 seconds close to becoming hostile. fawn to keep them friendly.
No delegating tasks. no telling other people to do things you could potentially do yourself. what if they mess up.
Assume that everyone will consider you a burden if you do 1 single mistake that inconveniences them. do all that is possible to not make that mistake.
Do not admit when things are going wrong. wait until theres no other option but to ask for help, and even then consider not doing that.
Always act like you're okay. not doing so might make you seem 'not normal' and 'accused of being crazy and unstable'.
Do anything for friends, even if it sounds weird, dodgy, illegal. you want to prove that you're fun and easy going and helpful and useful and extremely cool with anything.
Never let it show if you're suspicious of someone. never say out loud that you think their intentions are bad. that might set them off.
If hurt, hide and isolate. Do not let anyone see you hurt.
Do not ask help for problems you feel are your own responsibility to solve. Even if you don't see yourself solving them successfully. If you can't do it, assume nobody can help you.
Help others to try and build positive relationships. Don't accept help so you don't end up relying on them for anything.
Do not start things that involve help or participation from other people. People are not reliable.
Assume that institutions, government, police, social services, and any kind of groups of people are all considering you a nuisance, and would attack you on sight, in every single situation. Never rely on them or assume they would do anything else.
No arguing, confronting, or standing up for yourself unless the situation is absolutely unsurvivable otherwise. Lay low until doing otherwise is seriously damaging your mental health and ability to live.
Give up on hopeful social encounters before they disappoint you. If you have to interact with people, assume the worst is about to happen.
No allowing yourself to idealize, or dream of positive future with people. It's a trap and your expectations need to be either extremely realistic or low.
Assume that fancy and expensive things don't exist for you. Despise them and get away from them.
No comparing yourself and your life to how other people live. It causes depression and despair. Other people's lives and standards of living are none of your business.
Do not showcase any skill or brag about any achievement. Jealous people can destroy you for satisfaction.
Assume people think the worst of you and don't consider changing their mind. Just try to keep out of their way.
Do not display anger. You don't want to be called insane or get arrested. You don't know what people could potentially blame you for if you're openly angry. But other angry people are dangerous and you need to get away from them.
If you follow more than half of these, you have a trauma-induced problem. These are not normal or healthy. These are not developed in a healthy environment. These are extremely self-protective, isolating, ruled by terror of the world and the people living in it. If you follow these, something bad has been done to you.
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soaps-mohawk · 12 days
Text
Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 12: Fire In My Veins
Summary: Your heat begins. Luckily you have a good alpha to take care of you during your most vulnerable time. 
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, knotting, spanking (it’s like once), fluids so many fluids, heat cycles, mating cycles, lots of talk of breeding and mating, biting, brief mention of blood, this is gross y’all, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, and of course a little fluff
A/N: It was quite the ordeal, this chapter, and it's come a long way from when I first wrote it between Sunday and Monday this week. It's pretty much just smut so enjoy!!
The smut starts after the first scene and goes to the end, so only read up to the first green line if you don’t want the smut. You’re not missing much, just Price biting the reader to claim her, but I’ll talk more about that in the next chapter.
MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->
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“You alright, love?” 
You look up from where you had been staring at the floor, suddenly pulled back into the real world by Gaz’s voice. He had been organizing the nutrient bars and electrolyte bottles in your room while you sat and dissociated to the sound of rustling paper bags. 
You stare at his furrowed brows and worried eyes for a moment before averting your gaze with a nod. “Yeah.” 
The carpet under your feet has never looked quite so interesting before.
Gaz moves to sit next to you on the bed, sinking down onto the mattress with a sigh. “Nervous?” 
You nod in response, clutching the strawberry pillow in your arms tighter against your chest. 
“You’ll be alright.” Gaz says, his hand warm as it presses against your back. “I’m gonna take good care of you, yeah? Both you and Price. I’ll be right outside that door, and I’ll be in and out too. Dr. Keller’s ready in case something happens, but I don’t think anything will.” He wraps his arm around you, pulling you close against him. “You’re in good hands.” 
“There’s no going back after this.” You say, leaning into his side. 
“No, I don’t think any of us would want to anyway.” He smiles down at your surprised face. “What? I thought that was obvious. We all want you as part of our pack. You are part of the pack already, at least in every way but officially. None of us would trade you for anything.”
Your eyes fill with tears at his words. You know it’s just the stress and the hormones and the impending heat that could start at any time, but his words reach some deep part of you that was worried that they were all faking, that they all actually hated you. His words calm you a bit, easing away that stress and fear that you’ve been carrying for the last almost six weeks. 
“Come now, none of that.” Gaz says, wiping the tear that trails down your cheek. “Can’t afford getting dehydrated now.” 
You can’t help but laugh, even though you know he’s right. You’ve had so much liquid over the last couple days you feel as though you might burst at any second. It was necessary, considering the amount of fluid you were about to lose. 
Gaz leans down, kissing all over your face. You giggle, falling back on your bed to try and escape, but he follows you, continuing to plant little kisses all over your face and neck. 
“Kyle!” You shriek, giggling as his kisses tickle your skin. 
He pauses, leaning up so you’re eye to eye, a grin on his face. “You called me Kyle.” 
“That is your name, isn’t it?” You say, blinking up at him. 
“Yeah.” He chuckles. “You can call me Kyle as much as you’d like, love.” He says as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours.
You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him in place as you kiss him back. His arm snakes beneath you, pressing you tightly against his chest. He groans quietly into your lips, body taught against yours. You can feel every part of him, the muscles under his shirt, the strength of his thighs. Your head is spinning, and you know it’s mostly due to your impending heat. 
You let out a quiet whine as his lips leave yours, trailing down your neck to your shoulder. He leaves a scalding kiss over your scent gland, nipping playfully at the sensitive skin. 
“Can’t wait to see the mark,” He murmurs against your skin, a quiet whimper leaving your lips as your body begins to warm a little. “When Price claims you, makes you his.” 
“Fuck.” You breathe, a shudder running through your whole body. 
Kyle chuckles, sucking a mark on your collarbone. “You won’t be just his, though, huh? Gonna be ours.” 
You let out a whine at his words, your fingers trailing up the back of his neck. He lets out a quiet groan, his body shuddering as you tease the sensitive skin. You feel lightheaded and dizzy from the rapidly shifting hormones of your pre-heat. You’re very close to the start. Any day now you could wake in a sweat with an insatiable ache between your thighs. You're like a ticking time bomb, but neither of the demolition experts you now live with can disarm you. 
If only it could be so easy. 
Kyle presses one last kiss to your lips before he pulls back, smiling down at you. “You’ll be alright. I’ll make sure of it.” 
You can’t help but believe him, especially with those big brown eyes staring down at you. 
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It’s sweltering. A fire has started beneath your skin, flames licking your veins, your very cells scorching in the fiery inferno that has overtaken you. An arid desert has bloomed in your mouth, your tongue heavy and sticky. Sweat has slicked your skin, consciousness only bringing awareness to the dampness of your sheets and pajamas. 
It also brings awareness to the pain. 
There’s an intense ache between your legs, your pelvis cramping. Slick has coated your thighs, soaking through your pajama pants, the fabric clinging to your skin. It’s too much, the sensations of your pajamas and the weight of the blankets nearly driving you to insanity. You need to be bare. It’s too hot and the drag of the fabric across your skin makes you want to cry. 
Not to mention the intense need burning through you. 
The mattress protector crinkles as you shift on the bed, every movement taking an excess amount of energy as you attempt to tug your shirt off with fumbling fingers. It’s like you’re moving in slow motion, your arms heavy and sluggish as you peel the fabric from your sticky skin, letting it fall to the floor. You lay there exhausted, body twitching as your temperature begins to spike. You blindly reach out, fingers trembling as they grasp at your phone. Your eyes are bleary as you blink rapidly at the too bright screen. You fumble with clumsy fingers on the screen, dialing the first number you see, not caring who it is.
“Hello?” 
You let out a quiet whine at the rough voice, thick with sleep. You can’t get your mouth to move, to form any words as you lay there pathetically, half undressed and soaked in sweat and slick. There’s an ache between your thighs, pulsing in time with your heart. Your free hand fumbles with your waistband, desperate to try and get your pants down, to remove the feeling of your underwear sticking to your slick folds. 
“Help.” You manage a single word, not even sure it was intelligible. You let out a frustrated whimper, your body not cooperating to lift your hips so you can pull down your pants. 
A moment of silence passes before you get a response. “Fuck, be right there, love.” 
The line clicks, and a moment later a door is opening down the hall. You’re silently grateful you hadn’t locked your door last night, as there was no way you would be able to get out of bed and make it across the floor. It opens just enough for the figure to slip in before he closes it, not wanting to let your scent freely flow down the hallway. 
The light of the lamp on your nightstand accosts your eyes as it’s turned on, making you squint. You don’t miss the way Kyle’s nose crinkles for a moment as he catches the sickly sweet, overwhelming aroma of your scent as it pours from your body. His hand is cool against your forehead as he brushes the stray strands of hair sticking to your skin back. Johnny had braided it last night at least to try and keep it out of the way. 
“Easy.” He says quietly, shushing you as you whimper in need. 
You let out a whine as Kyle pushes the blankets out of the way. You’re incapable of caring that you’re half naked in front of him for the first time, and he pays it no mind. You tug uselessly at your pajama pants again, letting out a frustrated whine as you fail to shimmy them down your legs again. Kyle bats your hands away, slipping his fingers under the waistband and tugging the pants down your legs. You sigh in relief as the fabric is pulled away from your skin, a shiver running through you as the cool air hits your slicked folds. 
Kyle gathers your clothes, adding them into the bag of things that would need to be washed as soon as your heat is over before he returns to your side. 
“I need you to drink something for me, then I’ll go get Price, alright?” He says, kneeling down next to the bed as he grabs the electrolyte drink from your nightstand. 
You flop against his chest as he slips an arm around you, helping prop you up. Your face presses into his neck, inhaling deeply. A whine of disappointment leaves your lips as you realize he’s not what you need, your omega dissatisfied with the scent of beta emanating from him. 
“I know.” He says, easing you away from his neck. “Just drink this first and then you can have your alpha.” 
“Alpha.” You whimper, leaning against Kyle’s chest. 
He helps you drink some of the sweet liquid, and you gulp it down, relieved as it eases some of the dryness in your mouth. He lets you drink half of the bottle before he pulls it away, setting it on the nightstand. 
“Good girl.” He praises you, helping you lay back down against your pillow. “I’ll go get Price. I’ll get your alpha.” 
You hum contently at the promise of what’s coming, your omega practically screaming for her alpha, for some relief. 
Kyle slips back out the door, your head buzzing as the intense arousal and need burning within you gets stronger. Your pussy is pulsing, slick dribbling out of you as the need to mate takes over. The primordial instinct to reproduce is strong, your omega clawing at your mind, screaming to be bred, screaming to be bred, to carry pups. You need your alpha. You need his knot. 
You roll onto your stomach, pressing your hips into the mattress. You need something, anything to ease the aching pulse in your body. You begin to rut against the sheets, dragging your clit against the rough fabric. You let out a quiet whine as the friction sends pleasure shooting through you, a slight relief from the pain of your intense arousal. 
The door opens, your head shooting up as the heavy scent of alpha washes over you. Your eyes dilate, a shudder traveling from your head to your toes as the familiar scent of damp earth laced with the musk of arousal invades your senses. You let out another whine as John approaches the bed, your hips still rutting desperately against the sheets. You look utterly ruined, wide eyed and sweat-slicked, panting like an animal in heat. 
You are an animal in heat. 
“Look at you.” John mumbles, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. He stands over you, watching the desperate movements of your hips for a moment. “Needy little thing.” He teases, setting his phone on your nightstand before tugging his shirt over his head. 
You watch as every inch of skin is revealed to you, lips parting as you take him in. The strength of his muscles, the softness of his stomach. You want to lick every inch of him. You want to roll around in his scent, cover yourself in his essence, mark every part of your body with him. 
You arch into his touch as he drags a hand down your back, rough fingers following the line of your spine. You press your ass into his hand as he passes over it, fingers tugging your thighs apart. He groans again as a wave of your thick, sweet scent washes over him. 
“Let me see you.” He growls, sweatpants hitting the floor. 
You hear him, but you’re too busy staring at him in awe. More slick slips out of you at the sight of his cock, red and angry and painfully hard already. You can almost swear it’s pulsing in time with your pussy. A harsh gasp is pulled from your throat as he brings his hand down across your ass, the sound of skin striking skin loud enough to pull you back to reality. 
“I said, present for your alpha.” He says, the rough rumble of his inner alpha coating the edges of his voice. 
You whimper in response, scrambling up onto your hands and knees like a good omega for him as he kneels on the bed behind you.  
“Good girl.” He rumbles, a pleased whine leaving your lips at his praise. 
You push back into his hands as he cups your ass, his hand smoothing over the burning spot on the cheek he’d slapped. You can’t feel the pain from it, far too lost in your heat-riddled brain to register anything but the need pulsing between your thighs and the alpha staring at your soaked pussy. Thumbs part your folds, slick dribbling onto the sheets as he stares at your pussy. 
“So fucking slick for me.” He groans, dragging a thumb along your slit. 
“For you alpha!” You gasp, pressing back harder against his hands. 
A low growl rumbles in his chest as he drags his thumb through your folds again, pressing the digit against your clit. Your gasp is broken by a whimper, your clit already sensitive from you humping against your bed like a needy pup. You bend your top half down, relaxing against the mattress as you grind back against his hand. He lets you, keeping his hand still as he lets you work yourself to pleasure on your own. 
“Please! Please!” You beg, mind going numb with pleasure as his thumb brushes your clit with every rock of your hips. Your legs are already shaking, body trembling as the pleasure starts to build and build, the promise of relief coming at the hands of your alpha. 
“Eager little thing,” He rumbles, his breath fanning across your folds. 
You moan as his tongue drags along your slit, tasting your slick. Your fingers sink into the sheets, holding on as his tongue prods your entrance, his mouth slurping at the slick dripping from you. It’s obscene, but either of you care, both of you too lost in your need. 
Your knees nearly give out, your pussy clenching around his tongue as he applies more pressure against your clit, drawing slow circles with his thumb. He’s groaning against you, the quiet sound rumbling deep in his chest. He’s losing his own sanity, his alpha taking over as your heat triggers his rut instincts. His alpha has to be screaming as much as your omega is to mate. 
Your orgasm hits you suddenly, washing over you with a power that almost makes you black out. Slick spills out of you as your pussy flutters, soaking John’s face and beard in your juices. He’s relentless, not giving you even a second as he continues to fuck you with his tongue as his thumb rubs tight circles on your clit. Your legs are shaking, eyes rolling as the pleasure continues to build. Despite your orgasm, it’s not enough. Your brain knows it and your body knows it. You need a knot before you’ll be able to relax, before the pain and the need fades enough for your brain to relax. 
Even then, it will only be for a moment. 
“Alpha!” You whine, pushing back against his face, seeking out more. 
John growls against your pussy, the sound vibrating into your very soul. You let out a whimper in response, clutching at the sheets desperately. He pulls away from your pussy, licking his lips. You wish you could see him, the way his face shines with your slick, his beard soaked with your release. He licks his lips, savoring every last taste of you he can get as he sinks his fingers into you. 
You clamp down around the thick digits, a groan leaving his lips as you squeeze around him. You’re desperate for another orgasm, another chance at relief from the blazing inferno under your skin, the painful need still pulsing in your pelvis. 
“Please, alpha!” You whine, bucking back against his hand. “Hurts.”
He shushes you, continuing to fuck you with his fingers. The wet squelch of your pussy is loud in the small room, obscene and depraved, but you cannot bring yourself to care who might be able to hear as another orgasm rushes through your body. You whine in pleasure as slick dribbles out around his fingers, forced out by the fluttering of your walls. You can’t stop, don’t stop, as you continue to rock back against him. He watches you, holding his hand still as you fuck yourself on his fingers. You’re still desperate for more, still needing the one thing he won’t give you yet. 
He pulls his fingers from you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness. Your pussy is still pulsing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, still trying to clench around nothing. John curses as he drags his fingers through your folds, spreading your slick and your release across the sensitive skin. 
“Tell me what you need.” He rasps, the edges of his voice harsh as his alpha begins to take over.
“Need your knot, alpha.” You whine, pushing your hips back, searching for anything that might offer some more relief. “Please.”
He lets out a pleased rumble, shifting behind you. You bite your lip in anticipation and excitement, your body twitching as his rough hands smooth over the skin of your hips. His touch is electric, amplified by the sensitivity brought on by your heat. You want to feel him against you, you want to feel him inside of you. You need him, every fiber of your being, every cell in your body reaching out to him, inviting him in. 
A quiet mewl escapes you as he drags the head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick on his hard length. Your entire body flutters in anticipation as he pushes against your entrance, meeting no resistance as he presses into you. Your body aids him, relaxing around him as it welcomes the intrusion. There’s no pain, no discomfort as he stretches you open, aided by the copious slick that still seeps out around his cock. You practically shudder in relief as you finally get what you want, what you need. 
Your alpha’s cock inside you. 
His grip is tight on your hips as he begins to move, rocking his own hips as he presses deeper into you. He shifts his legs around yours, pressing himself closer until he’s flush against your ass. You can feel him deep inside you, and you’re almost certain you could see it if you looked. You brace yourself against the bed, instinct taking over as you begin to move with him, rocking back to meet his thrusts. It’s lewd, the sound of skin slapping skin as he sets an almost frantic pace, sharp thrusts accentuating the wet squelch of your pussy around him, and the sound of his hips meeting your ass. 
His fingers dig into your hips almost to the point of pain, but you don’t care. You’re far too lost in your instincts, and the pleasure, to care much about anything. The hormones and endorphins block it out, only one thought on your mind, playing on repeat. 
Knot knot knot knot.
You moan loudly as Price ruts into you, not caring who might hear, or who can hear. Price moans and growls, the sweetness of your scent blocking out all thoughts except how much he needs to breed you, how much he needs to be a good alpha and take care of his omega. 
You just want to be a good omega for your alpha. 
You cum again with a cry, pussy fluttering around his cock as more slick dribbles out of you, soaking the sheets below you. John doesn’t stop, save for a slight falter of his thrusts as you squeeze around him tightly, your pussy trying to milk his own orgasm from him. Your body is shaking, his hands the only thing keeping your hips upright as more and more pleasure continues to build despite now three orgasms that have rocked through you. 
You need him to cum, you need him to fill you up with his knot. You need to feel the warmth of his seed inside you, the heaviness of it as it fills you. Drool begins to pool on the sheets below your face, adding to the mix of fluids soaked into your already damp sheets. John’s pace never falters, even as sweat begins to build on his brow, sliding down the sides of his face. You want to lick it, follow the trail of salty liquid as it falls down his neck and onto his chest. 
Sweat drips from your own skin as another orgasm begins to build. You can tell John is close too as his grip tightens on your hips, the pain registering just for a moment at the back of your mind. You’ll forget it by the time your heat ends, the momentary pull to awareness lost in the haze of mindless pleasure and a need to mate. 
“C’mon.” John growls, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck. “Give it to me.” 
You let out a whine, knowing what it is he wants, what it is you need as you push yourself back up onto shaking arms, the adrenaline the only thing giving you the strength to move. John moves your braids to the other side of your neck, his chest pressing against your back. It changes the angle of his thrusts as he grinds against you, the swelling at the base of his cock catching on your walls as he continues to thrust deeply into you. 
“Please,” You whimper, bearing your neck to him as he kisses along the line of your shoulder. “Please alpha. Wanna be yours.” You whimper, arching into him in an attempt to get closer as his teeth drag across your skin. 
“My good omega.” He growls, teeth nipping at the sensitive skin right next to your scent gland at the junction of your neck and shoulder. “My good girl. Gonna take my knot like a good omega? Let me fill you up with pups as I make you mine?” 
You let out a high pitched whine at his words, trying to press your neck closer to his mouth. “Please, alpha! Please! Wanna be a good omega!” 
He curses under his breath, his arm wrapping around your body to hold you up. His knot presses into you, stretching you open as it continues to swell until he’s locked inside you. You cum around his knot at the sensation of being filled so completely, his hips continuing to grind against you as he chases his own orgasm. 
You nearly black out as his teeth sink into your skin, the pinch lasting only for a second before pleasure rushes through you. You let out a loud, high-pitched sound as he claims you, marking you as his forever. Another, sudden orgasm slams into you, his arm holding you still as you try to writhe on his knot. He growls into your skin as he stills, hips jerking against your ass as he cums inside you. 
Your arms give out as he releases your shoulder, blood dripping onto the sheets below you. Your head is spinning as he drags his tongue across the raised skin, cleaning the mark he’s left on you. 
He shushes you as you let out little whimpers and whines, gently easing your body so you’re laying flat against the bed. “Easy, that’s my good girl.” He praises you, pressing gentle kisses against your neck. “My good omega. Take my knot so well.” 
Your vision slowly fades to darkness as exhaustion takes over, a small smile tugging at your lips from his praise. 
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His eyes are dark and glazed as he stares up at you, mouth parted as he breathes heavily. Your head is thrown back, the sweetest little moans and whimpers leaving your lips as you bounce on his cock. His hands hold your hips, far too tight to be comfortable against your sweat-soaked skin as he guides your movements, but you offer no complaint. His thighs are soaked with your slick and a mix of fluids that seems to endlessly drip from you. Your own thighs are shaking around him, exhaustion prevalent in your sloppy movements. You’re close, eyes fluttering as your grip tightens on his shoulders. Your nails bite into his skin but he doesn’t care. He can’t feel much of anything but pleasure at the moment. 
He guides you through your orgasm as it rocks through you, your body shuddering around him. His hips press up against yours as he reaches his own end, spilling into you as his knot locks into place, connecting you two once again. He doesn’t know how long it’s been, nor does he care. All he wants is to be inside you, fucking his seed into you until you’re swollen with it. He stares down at where you’re connected for a moment, your pussy spread open around his knot.
He guides you against his chest as your body gives out, the haze of his instincts lifting just momentarily. His body aches, soreness settling in as his mind clears. You lick at his throat, tasting his sweat-slicked skin. Sweet little whimpers and whines leave your lips as you rest against him, completely boneless and at his mercy.
He reaches over to the nightstand, wrapping an arm around you to hold you still so he doesn’t tug on the knot as he grabs the bottle of electrolytes. He unscrews the cap, gently easing you back. You’re both still breathing heavily as he cradles the back of your head with one hand, helping you drink the electrolytes. You gulp it down even in your exhausted state, your body recognizing its need for sustenance. 
He drinks the rest after you finish, tossing the bottle onto the floor with the others. He picks up one of the nutrient bars, peeling the wrapper off before he begins to eat, feeding you bites of it as he does. You’re half asleep, chewing slowly as you rest against his chest, body still trembling slightly from the aftershocks of another of what’s now a countless number of orgasms. 
He gives you the last little bit of the bar before he relaxes back against the headboard, keeping his arms wrapped tight around you. The skin on your shoulder is still angry and slightly swollen from his claiming bite. It doesn’t help that he’s sunk his teeth into that spot twice now since he first claimed you. 
He swells with pride upon seeing it, the proof that you’re now his, a warning to others not to mess with you. It’s a slight weight off his shoulders. He has to worry less about someone trying something. Some haughty, cocksure alpha getting it through his head that he wants what he can’t have, that he can just take what’s not his. A low growl rumbles through his chest at the thought. 
He shushes you as you stir in response to the warning growl, a purr rumbling through his chest as he eases you back into a relaxed state. His good little omega, his sweet little omega, taking his knot so well. 
You make a quiet noise as he twitches inside you, the feeling of being enveloped in your tight heat almost like heaven. He closes his eyes, calming his inner alpha. He knows you need to rest. You need a little break before you start up again, before your heat continues to ravage you. 
Before he continues to ravage you. 
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chososdiscordkitten · 20 days
Text
Ex-Husband Gojo
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artist: yunonoai on twt
Synopsis: Gojo as ur ex-husband trying to win you back („• ᴗ •„)
Pairing: Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: no use of y/n nor mentions of readers appearance, THERES PLOT IN THIS ONE!! Mentions of pregnancy and getting back together again, seducing(?), fingering, spanking ONCE, reader gets folded like a chair, multiple orgasms, cream pie, aftercare(?)
(a.n) underlined text is a link incase u need a picture of the position :>
MDNI
You could never hate Gojo, even if you had been divorced for a year- pretending to barely tolerate him when you saw him. 
But you knew in your marrow- you could never hate him. The only man in your life for the past 7 years, father of your child, and provider of anything you could ask for.
The divorce didn’t even affect Gojo- even as he was signing the papers, he still looked at you like you hung the moon and the stars.
“Give my wife whatever she wants.” he directed his divorce lawyer, earning an exasperated sigh from your lips. 
Everything your own lawyer asked for, he shrugged. 
The house? “Take it.” he scoffed, looking at you with all the love in the world. 
Child support? He didn’t even blink. Satoru offered to give you money every month. As long as you didn’t work and stayed at home to care for his son.
Forget the cars or the cabin in the mountains you would go to in the winter to ski. None of that bothered Satoru. He would give you whatever you requested as long as it made you happy. 
It only made your head pulse- the way the divorce lawyers were looking at you like you were some kind of horrible villain. Divorcing a seemingly loving husband who would give you anything and everything you asked for. 
That was until you asked for sole custody of your child, knowing he barely had time when you were married; how would he find the time as a single father?
“No,” he said sternly, in a deeper tone—now taking this seriously. “50-50, or nothing.” he threatened, a dark aura looming over his figure as you caved. 
You asked for a divorce, not because he never gave you enough— that was never the problem. Gojo loved giving and had more than enough to offer, especially to his wife and child. 
The issue was, two years into marriage, he knocked you up. It wasn’t a problem though. Married, old enough, and stable enough to welcome a child into the world.
Satoru was present a lot more for those 9 months you were growing his child. Ignoring the responsibilities of his demanding job. 
Nine months of pure bliss. Moving into a house, painting your child’s nursery together. Shopping for clothes, going through Satoru’s unbelievably long list of baby names- 90% of which you said ‘no’ to. 
The two years before you were pregnant, you were aware of how demanding Gojo’s job really was. You knew he would be gone more often than he was present. 
And it didn't bother you. If it made Satoru happy and he still returned to you at the end of the day- you didn't mind. 
But during those nine months of growing his child, you thought the rest of your lives together would be the same. You thought he would be present more often than not.
And when you were pushing his big-headed child into the world, it was almost like a switch flipped in Satoru’s mind. As though he looked down to the child that was undeniably his, lily white hair—the same shade as his, and bright blue eyes, just like his father's. Gojo saw the future in the boy he held in his hands. 
Gojo never told you, but that day, he realized he had to work harder, to give you and his son the best lives you could have. 
He distanced himself, making sure to leave as much space between you and his work as he could. This led to you wondering if he just didn’t find you attractive anymore, or if the domestic cookie-cutter life wasn’t enough for him. 
Had he told you the truth- maybe the divorce would have been avoidable. But Satoru saw this divorce settlement as you throwing a fit. 
Deep down, it hurt him. It pained his heart even thinking that you would consider leaving him, but he allowed you to sign those papers. 
It only meant he would have to make you fall in love with him all over again. 
You scoffed at his demand of 50-50 custody, knowing you saw him two nights a week when you were married. Not even being able to fathom how he could handle having your son 50% of the time. 
But Satoru surprised you in that area. Always being on time to pick up his kid from your doorstep, giving you a big hug every time he would see you. Even kissing your forehead when he would leave. 
You didn’t think anything of it- he invested so much of himself in your marriage; it was instinct by now.
But when you’d be at the park with them, watching him hold the little hand of the mini Gojo that looked identical to him. Smiling with a soft warmth, Satoru may have always run out of time- constantly. But it was undeniable that he was a fantastic father. 
When he ran into an acquaintance from work, he still introduced you as his lovely wife. So often that you stopped correcting him, knowing he would only start complaining if you did.
Even if the law saw you as a single mom. Technically, divorced and with a 5-year-old toddler on your hip. 
Satoru still looked at you and saw his wife. Mother of his child, homemaker, and the only person that helped him heal- the person who gave him the privilege of being a father. 
In his eyes, you were still his. Didn’t matter if you were divorced or not; the marriage dynamic was still present between you two.
Of the two of you, Satoru was the one who was least embarrassed about the little slip-ups. Late nights after you put your toddler down to sleep, wine glasses in hand as you recalled memories from married life. 
9 out of 10 times, it always ended with Satoru’s lips crashing into yours, greedily slotting his tongue past your lips as his hands pulled you to straddle his thighs. 
Nights ending with being cuddled up together, undressed and on the bed you didn’t replace when he moved out. And mornings being awakened by the smell of pancakes coming from the kitchen. 
Walking down the stairs with puffy eyes, “Your mama always sleep in this late?” you heard Satoru speak from the kitchen, followed by a little laugh your son chimed.
Nodding your head disapprovingly with a smile, watching your child pull Satoru’s ear to his lips, letting out a small ‘tsk’ at what his child whispered into his ear. 
The sight was always heartwarming, knowing things could’ve been like this all the time if things were different.
And every afternoon, when Satoru would practically be forced out of the house- came the talk of “This can’t happen again. It’s confusing for him-” Only for Satoru to kiss your cheek.
“Won’t happen again.” he would smile, knowing that declaration was a mere tool to end conversations like these. Knowing as long as you allowed it- mornings like these would keep happening. 
There was still a lot- almost too much love, between you and Satoru. You knew this couldn’t continue, branching out and thinking of ways to not be so involved. Being all too aware of the fact that, for the past 7 years, your life has only been your husband and your son. 
Ex-Husband. 
That only proved your point- Satoru slowly started embedding the idea of calling him your husband again, that even in your own mind you still referred to him as such.
You knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. To continue entertaining the potential of getting together again. You considered it at first, if he was such a changed man and all he needed was to be reminded of what he lost to change his ways, would it be so bad to get back together?
But the slip-ups and nights shared together in each other's arms were too good to be true. 
You feared that the same thing would happen if you allowed him fully into your life again. He would show you the best parts of him at first, then go back to neglecting his responsibilities to you and his child. 
So when you asked Gojo to babysit for one evening. Instead of asking you why, he asked his 5-year-old son. Who came running up to him, pulling Satoru's hair to whisper another secret into his ear- barely legible and full of amused giggles: “Mommy has a date.” 
Satoru must’ve heard wrong- it almost sounded like his son said you- his wife, had a date with someone other than him. 
He tried getting more information out of his son, playfully asking who, where, and why. But the little man only scoffed, saying that you only said you had a date, and that’s why Dad had to watch him that evening. 
And on the day of, Satoru showed up at your doorstep looking offensively good. Fresh haircut and his hair half dry, a white t-shirt that was entirely too tight, and gray sweats- with nothing under them (slut). And to top it all off, your favorite cologne spritzed onto his chest. 
You opened your front door- you furrowed your eyebrows in disbelief, eyeing the man before you. You hated when he would purposefully show up on your doorstep looking fucking scrumptious. It was too tempting. 
And as he always does- he pulls you into a rib-crushing hug, ensuring you get a face full of his scent. Kissing the top of your head as you loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. “You look gorgeous,” he murmured against your scalp, pulling away from him and scoffing. 
Walking back into the entryway of your house, hearing him step behind you and close the door- “I thought I told you to come at 7.” you muttered, trying to shake off the invading thoughts of the apparent print in his sweats. 
“I wanted to see you before you left.” Satoru mumbled behind you, following you up the stairs of his house and listening to the TV playing your child’s favorite cartoon. 
You only hummed in response to the excuse as to why he was here a whole 2 hours before you were to leave. 
While you were showering, Gojo sat on the couch supervising his son, who was asking any question that popped into the little man’s mind. Questions the child would ask you, but refuse to think you were telling the truth. So he would ask his Dad, and believe him instead.
You found it frustrating that your child believed Satoru more than he believed you- but endearing that he would always run things by his father.
All the while, answering the little questions his toddler asked- Satoru wondered if you still had that bad habit of leaving the bathroom door unlocked while you showered. 
But Satoru knew he had to take a more subtle approach to the delicate situation at hand. 
As he heard the sound of the shower halting- thanking the noisy plumbing the house had. It always let him know you were stepping out of the shower from wherever he was in the house.
He rose from the couch and grabbed his child from the floor. “Let’s go see what mommy’s doing.” Gojo smiled as he hooked his hands beneath his child's arms, hearing happy laughter from the little human in his hands as he ran up the stairs.
Satoru always liked watching you get dressed, even if it was to go see another man. He enjoyed watching the care you put into your appearance. 
He walked into the humid restroom, his eyes catching the half-way-done zipper of your dress. “Zip me,” you murmured, looking into the mirror as you applied your makeup. 
Satoru placed his child on the ground and walked up behind you, his eyes catching the clasp of your lace undergarment. He furrowed his eyebrows, realizing it was one he hadn't seen before. 
He lightly placed his hand on your hip, his face too close to your shoulder, as his fingers slowly worked up the zipper. Gojo’s thumb caressed your clothed hip, giving you a light squeeze before letting go of the zipper. 
Pressing your thighs together slightly and trying to ignore the warmth of his hand. 
So as he sat on the edge of the bathtub, his child bouncing on his lap, watching you with an adoring gaze, enjoying the angle he had of you slightly bent over the sink. “Where’d you say you were going again?” squinting his eyes as you swiped away any misplaced makeup on your cheek. 
“Out.” you scoffed, knowing if you told him the truth he would only start whining at you. 
So he flashed his eyes to his son, “Do you know?” he whispered, watching his son hold back a laugh as you rolled your eyes. 
As much as you disliked being the bad cop in most parenting scenarios, your child always took his side- always told him the truth when he’d ask.
“Mommy has a date.” he giggled, only for you to look to your side and squint your eyes, “Traitor.” you murmured, watching Satoru’s jaw fall in feigned shock. 
“A date?” he pursed his lips, looking at you sadly. “You asked me to watch my child to go on a date?” his tone was full of sarcasm, watching you nod your head ‘no’ as you looked back into the mirror. 
“It’s just dinner-” you muttered, trying to avoid his harsh gaze on your profile. “Besides, I’m sure you have your fair share of them.” 
Satoru gasped your name, placing his hands on either side of his child’s head and covering his ears.
“You accuse me of cheating in front of our child? I only have room for one woman in my heart.” he scoffed, placing a hand onto his chest- almost as though he found offense in knowing you could- but he never would.
“It’s not cheating, we aren’t married anymore.” 
He pulled his hands from his child’s ears, eye twitching at your declaration. “Who is he?” he asked, tone more severe as his child played with his hands. You sighed, “I have a right to know-” he started- earning for you to look at him with an irritated expression. 
“Just a parent from his school.”
Satoru squinted his eyes. He knew he couldn’t ask you to homeschool his child- ‘socialization’ and all that. But now, Satoru had to worry about you being pawed at while dropping off his son at kindergarten. 
In some attempts to not show he was starting to get pissed off, “If you were into single dads- you have one right here~” Gojo grinned, watching the grimace on your face churn from his attempt at flirting. 
“That’s not it, but thank you for that.” you scoffed, curling your eyelashes and feeling his eyes pierce your skin. 
“So what is it?” he hummed, wanting to know what this man had that he didn’t. 
With a sigh you rolled your eyes, hearing your child slide off his lap and patter out of the bathroom. “I don't wanna talk about this anymore.” you muttered, sensing Satoru rise from the tub's edge and shift behind you, placing his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. 
“I wanna know who you’re replacin’ me with,” he whined in your ear, causing you to scoff and look down to the sink. 
You were used to Satoru clinging to you- showing his affection to you even if you weren’t together anymore. 
Satoru pressed his hips onto your slightly bent bottom, his lips barely grazing your ear, “If this is about your needs- I’m here for that too, y’know.” he whispered into your ear. Making sure you could feel his print against your bottom as he pressed himself closer to you. 
Your breathing increased slightly, parting your lips as his hands around your waist squeezed you tighter. “You don’t have to look for anyone else-” he whispered, lips pressing onto the shell of your ear as you closed your eyes. 
“I’m here whenever you need me,”
Mentally battling the temptation with every whisper into your ear, his breathing grazing your skin, causing goosebumps to rise to the surface. 
Satoru was about to murmur another temptation into your ear. Until your child's crying voice echoed through the bathroom walls. Rushing out of the bathroom and finding your son on the ground of your bedroom- Tiny droplets of blood oozed from his little knee, with fat tears leaving his blue eyes. 
Satoru wasted no time scooping up the crying child from the ground, hushing him with small assurances that it was okay. 
Though it was only a scrape- it was enough for Satoru to convince you to call up this, ‘Fellow parent from school’ and tell him you had to cancel. Setting no reschedule day as Gojo purposefully called out to you- “Honey, where are the band-aid’s?~” 
And with that, Satoru got what he wanted. Your date was canceled, and the man backed off. 
After too many treats and much-needed coddling from his father, your son dozed off in Gojo’s arms as he walked up the stairs, exhausted from the sobbing. Placing him onto the little race car bed he built- recalling the day Satoru helped you paint the bedroom. 
You settled onto the living room couches and thanked him for being here. “M’sorry if you had any plans.” You sighed, looking at the well-favored man before you. 
Gojo scoffed, “No plans are more important than you.” with a slight smile on his lips. 
“And your son.” you clarified with a warm grin.
Satoru looked down at your hands. “And my son.” He repeated your words, reaching for your hands and holding them in his. Scooching the tiniest bit closer to you, “Thank you,” he muttered, caressing the backs of your hands with his thumbs. 
“For what?” looking at him adoringly. 
Gojo blinked his eyes as he engulfed the sight of your expression. Looking back at him with the same look you had when you were still married. “For bein’ a good mom,” he whispered, slowly inching closer to you. 
“-nd a good wife,” he whispered, watching your eyebrows furrow at the proclamation, cheeks tingling from hearing him call you that. Parting his lips as you leaned in closer to him. 
The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, “Why did we ever get divorced, hmm?” he whispered, darting his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. Trying to recall the last time he tasted you- finding it offensive that he couldn’t even remember. 
You gulped slightly, watching his eyes go half-lidded as he leaned closer to you. You blinked your eyes closed- feeling the last of your reservations dissolve in your mind as you pressed your lips against his. 
Satoru’s eyes half-lidded as he watched your eyebrows pinch up- letting go of your hands as he traced his fingertips up your arms. Lightly swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, parting your mouth to grant him entry. 
Your hands making their way to his torso- feeling the thin fabric of his shirt beneath your fingers. Sighing as his tongue pressed against yours, his hands trailing to your back. 
Pulling you closer to him as his fingers reached the zipper of your dress. Soft hums of appeasement rumbling onto his tongue. Tugging down the zipper slowly as your hands found the bottom of his shirt, tracing your hands beneath the fabric.
Your fingers grasping against his carved torso desperately, your thumb lightly caressing his happy trail. His hands slipped past the opening of your dress- sprawling against your back. 
You pulled away- looking into his eyes. His cheeks flushed and lips puffy. “We can’t-” you breathed, hoping he would have the strength to put a halt to this. You swallowed- mouthing another ‘we can't.’ before pressing your lips onto his again. 
Letting a soft moan slip your lips as he pulled the top of your dress down- feeling the light grazes of his fingers against your skin. Placing his hand on your side, sliding up your torso and cupping the underside of your laced breast. 
Feeling a twinge of anger once he felt it was a bralette- only a thin layer of lace separating his hand from your soft skin. Even more when he remembered why you would be wearing this. 
Tracing his thumb over the little peak beneath the lace, giving it a soft swipe. Earning a light hum to leave your lips onto his. 
And to check- just to be sure he wasn’t getting mad over nothing; Satoru pulled his lips from yours. Placing damp kisses onto your cheek. Peppering them down your neck, soft sighs and moans leaving your lips were heard as hymns to Satoru’s ears.
Making sure to pay extra attention to your collarbone, taking a few seconds to suck harshly on the skin. Even if you didn’t wear your wedding ring anymore- this was his way of showing any other men that you were claimed- that you were his. 
His hands shifted your hips to sit correctly on the couch, slumped with your dress bunched on your thighs. Satoru trailed wet kisses to the swell of your breast, lightly pressing his tongue onto your laced nipple and swirling against the fabric, coaxing a light moan to fall from your lips. 
Though your eyes were closed, Satoru's grip on your waist told you that he was furious. Had you opened them, you would have seen his jealous eyes looking back at you. 
Satoru hoped he was wrong- hoped you wouldn’t do this to him. All but praying he wouldn’t have to do what he had to if he was right. 
His hands hooked onto the bunched-up fabric of your dress, shifting it down your thighs and pulling it from your body entirely before he pulled his lips from your tummy. 
Looking down at the matching lace panties- soaked as they were, he had never seen them. Gojo’s eye twitched as he looked back up to you, unwilling to come to the fact that you bought- and wore this for another man. 
Satoru liked thinking he was a patient person, calm and collected when he had to be. But the way he rose himself from the ground, manhandling you to flip over and bend your knees on the couch, made him realize he held no more patience for you nor your attempts to make him jealous.
Your hands held onto the back of the couch firmly, keeping yourself up as Satoru’s hands landed on your hips. Groping the malleable skin as you whimpered, pressing your bottom back to the growing erection in his sweats. 
“You wore this for him?” he mumbled behind you, slipping his thumb beneath the thin band of lace. Exhaling, feeling yourself soak your panties even further. 
You bit your lip, looking down at your hands in shame- knowing whatever you said now would only make him more bitter. 
Murmuring something- quiet enough for Satoru not to comprehend. He huffed a smile, “What was that?” he teased, pressing his bulge against your bent bottom, pushing you further against the wall. 
“Tell the truth.” 
You looked back slightly, peering at the crazed man behind you. Biting your lip and facing the wall, “I did.” 
As a reward for your honesty, Satoru gave you a firm spank against your bottom. Causing you to jolt forward with a soft whimper. 
“You’re that needy?” Gojo teased, caressing the warm skin of your bottom, soothing the sting. “That you have to cheat on me?” you exhaled- not wanting to admit how attractive it was that he was scolding you for something he shouldn’t be. 
Taking his hands from your hips and hooking them onto the sides of your panties, slipping them down your hips to be greeted with your soaked cunt. Glistening with the taste he craved from the minute he moved out. 
But even if his mouth watered looking down to your core, he couldn’t bring himself to kneel before you- knowing if he let things go your way, this little farce of divorce would stay in your mind.
No, he had to teach you a lesson, even if he had to pound it into your foolish brain that you were his. 
So as the tips of his fingers grazed your soaked lips- avoiding the bundle of nerves that he was sure was throbbing from how wet you were. 
Circling the tips of his ring and middle finger on your entrance as you let out breathless whines. “I just missed you,” whimpering as you reached a hand back to the one that held your hip in place. 
The words enticed Gojo to dip the very tips of his fingers into your cunt- “Didn’t wanna tell you.” you moaned, admitting the truth he had been wanting to hear for far too long. 
Closing your eyes as he slowly inched his fingers into you. Satoru smiled, feeling your walls welcome him in, too tight to have been recently fucked. So he knew you must be telling the truth. 
Grasping onto his hand, the tips of his fingers prodding into the spot he quickly found every time. 
Your hand that held you up trembling as he lightly curled his fingers. Letting out breathy moans, earning Satoru to smile to himself, “Who knows how to please you like me, hm?” he let out the thoughts from his lips without permission. 
You whined as he pumped his fingers into you with a slow ease. Whimpering softly as he watched with dim eyes. “Who else but me?” he pressed, feeling your grip against his hand tighten. 
“Need you inside ‘toru-” you whined, the hand holding you up gripping the edge of the couch violently. 
Gojo remembered the last time you called him that- biting his lip from the nickname you used to call him when you were still married. And you must’ve known how his mind reels whenever you called him that- or else why would you say it in that tone? 
All but begging for his cock with every light spasm your cunt did around his fingers. 
Satoru was pleased with how pliant you were in his hands, satisfied enough to pull his fingers from your cunt. Quickly removing his shirt before placing his messied hand over his sweats, softly palming himself as he looked at your core- 
Gojo was so sure at that moment- that there was no god- the closest thing to it was what lied between your legs. Pulsing- begging for him to bully his pained cock into it. 
He pulled his hand from his bulge, shoving down the loose band of his sweats and freeing his cock. And as you suspected- no briefs. 
Placing a hand onto his base and lightly tapping his leaky tip onto your ass, causing you to whine. 
Gojo started thinking about how he wanted you- now that you were compliant and needy before him. 
He backed away in the slightest. Kicking off his sweats before moving you to lie back onto the couch. Settling his hips between your thighs. Soaking up the desperate expression you wore as small whimpers left your lips. 
The tip of his cock sliding up and down your cunt- refusing to give you what you ached for. 
His forearms held his torso up as your hands latched behind his neck- legs spread and waiting for him to plunge himself into you. Only Satoru looked into your bleary eyes with a smile, “You wan’me inside?” he huffed- watching your bottom lip quiver, lowering himself close enough for your lips to brush against his.
“Tell me 'nd I will.” he grinned against you- watching your eyes close, trying not to cave to his demands. Biting your lip as he pressed his tip against your entrance- teasing you in the slightest. 
You breathed a light whimper, blinking your eyes open and staring into his power-crazed ones. “Please-” you whined, “Put it inside ‘toru.” the tone you took only made Gojo’s ego boost- smiling with parted lips as he slowly pressed past your entrance. 
A light whimper rumbled from his flushed lips as your hands pulled his neck closer, pressing your lips onto his. Breathing in every whimper, he exhaled onto your tongue as he eased himself into you. 
Being able to feel that you hadn’t fucked anyone recently- That you were faithful to him. And this was all just an attempt to rile him up, which only made him even more eager to burrow himself into you further, ‘You’ve been good. That’s what you deserve,’ he thought as his tongue danced with yours. 
The light sting from the stretch makes you huff out a pained whimper- inching himself deeper till his hips were flush to your thighs. His tip easily found the sweet spot he seemingly had exact coordinates to. 
Satoru placed his hands on your hips, slowly raising himself with your legs locked on his waist. Holding onto your back as you lightly ground your hips flush against his. 
A lazy, sloppy version of a lotus position, pulling away from his lips as you trailed a hand to his hair. Looking into his hazy eyes as his hand assisted your hips. 
Small moans leaving your throat as your lips brushed against his. Not even attempting to kiss him, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep a pattern from how deep he was hitting inside of you. 
A light sheen of sweat coating your forehead as Gojo relished the look in your eyes- just fucked out enough to let the mask slip. Looking at him with love-filled eyes, your bottom lip quivering as your head threatened to tip back. 
Your nose scrunched lightly, neck curving back with a low groan. Not wanting to leave space between you- Satoru placed his lips onto your exposed neck, humming muffled whimpers against your skin as your bottom lip trembled. 
Words forming on the tip of your tongue as you ground your cunt against him. The position so full of intimacy, it made you forget you were doing this with your ex-husband. 
Puffing out a light breath, smile forming at the corner of your lips- sinking into the mouthwatering pleasure you incited with every small thrust. 
“Fuck, I love you.” you moaned mindlessly. But the words rang through Satoru’s ears like church bells, words he hadn’t heard in far too long- even in the past slip-ups. You always held your tongue, making sure to not plant that seed in his mind. 
Gojo almost came when he heard your proclamation, inching you back with his lips attached to your neck. Easing your back onto the arm of the couch, planting a foot onto the ground as your hands kept a tight grip on his neck. Satoru dragged his hips from yours with a loud schlop coming from between your legs. 
Pulling his lips from your neck, he looked at your expression—pinched eyebrows and eyes shut tight- showing him you were close. So close, he could hear it in your sighs of content. 
Satoru leaned down to your ear, huffing a warm breath against your cartilage. Shoving his cock back into you- bottoming out too quickly, earning a whine from your lips. Wasting no time before repeating the movement. Setting a speedy pace with a low whimper.
Sliding your hands up his forearms, landing on his biceps as he quickened the pace- riding himself up an orgasm. 
“Lemme make you a mama again-” he huffed into your ear, his tip nudging your sensitive spot with every thrust- you moaned his name in response, so close your brain would have short-circuited had you tried answering. 
Satoru grunted with a smile, thinking of the words he was about to say. “Marry-” he groaned, feeling your cunt suck him in with every pull he did, “me again.” he whimpered, his thrusts pushing you up further.
Taking a long lick at your ear- urging you to answer him. Pulling away from your neck, placing his hand on your jaw lightly. “Huh?” Satoru grinned.  “Marry me again baby.” Watching your eyes crack open- bearing your teeth softly as you felt the warmth in your tummy over fill. 
Pressing his parted lips to yours sloppily- pulling away, and watching your eyes threaten to roll back. You started nodding your head ‘yes’ in his hand frantically- your walls flexing around his speedy cock as he felt you come undone. 
Your nodding agreement was all Satoru needed to lose the rhythm of his thrusts. Sloppily pushing into your clenching cunt, his whining muffled by his bottom lip being tucked between his teeth. 
Your lips started babbling soundless pleads- ‘please, please,’ and to Satoru’s ears- you were begging for him to fill you. Fill you till he didn’t have anymore to give. 
And as a loving and obedient husband- that’s what he did. 
With one loud grunt- he spilled himself into you- his thrusts slowing, not as long strides, but he made sure to push his seed deeper into you. Keeping that declaration of making you a mom again. 
A low whine left your lips, feeling his warm spend coat your walls with every twitch his cock made inside of you. 
So full, you were sure his proclamation would come true. And he came a lot- as though he was saving it up just for you. 
Heavily breathing as he slowed his thrusts, pressing his forehead to your temple. Trying to catch his breath as he came down, feeling your heartbeat against his own chest- racing and pounding against his sternum. 
Soft kisses planted on your face, your hands easing their grip on his sides. Satoru's hands slid down to your hips, raising himself to his knees and looking down to where you were still connected. 
A low gulp bobbing in his throat, knowing he would have to pull out eventually; And dreading it. Thinking of a million ways to keep you filled and plugged with his future offspring. 
And as you finally could steady your breathing, Gojo yanked you down from the arm of the couch. Back landing flush against the cushions with a soft grunt. Looking at him, all but asking what he was doing. 
Till Satoru pulled himself out of you, hoisting your hips up from the couch with two strong hands. “Sator-” you tried saying, only for his arms to hug the crease of your thighs, bending you in half with your legs flailing in the air. 
All the pressure was placed onto your shoulders as Satoru latched his mouth onto your messied clit. Keeping his eyes parted and watching your expression churn. Placing a hand onto his forearm- bracing as he greedily lapped at your neglected clit. 
Mentally- this was to give his seed a better chance of taking. Hips in the air- all of the cum he had just pumped into you had nowhere else to go but deeper inside of you. And to also get a taste of you- even if remnants of his cum mixed with it. Satoru didn’t care, as long as he got to taste you. 
Huffing out all the air you could, puffs laced with moans. Your hands gripping harshly onto Gojo's forearm, leaving minor crescent-shaped marks on his skin from your nails. 
Basically folded in half, your hips started writhing in his grasp- overstimulation creeping up your spine from his vigorous tongue. 
Spasming in his hands- trying to warm you were close, but it only came out as more ragged whimpers. Clenching your teeth with your eyes shut tight- unable to see the starved expression looking at you as Gojo unraveled you. 
And once Gojo felt your clit tremble between his lips- he knew it was too soon to let you back down; he needed to keep your hips aimed up as long as he could. 
Satoru watched your bottom lip tremble as he continued the movement with his tongue. Your hips trying to shimmy from his grasp- but he held you up with two strong arms that had a mission. 
Abusing your overwhelmed clit as your eyes screwed together tighter- white spots infiltrating your closed vision with desperate moans. The top of your head bumped into the arm of the couch as he pushed you into a firmer bend. 
Your entrance squelched against his chin as he pulled another orgasm from you- more ragged whimpers littered with his name falling from your lips. 
You huffed- feeling his mouth go unbothered from the third orgasm he had given you. “Please ‘toru-” you whimpered, cracking your eyes open and looking at the crazed man holding your hips. Satoru pulled his lips from your cunt- looking at you with a smile. 
Half his face soiled with your arousal and a glimmer of his seed on his chin. “Just one more-” he egged on, looking at you with dazed eyes. “Jus’onemor-” he cut himself off by placing his lips back onto your clit. 
You only sighed a whimper, allowing him to get his fill. 
Satoru lapped at your puffy clit, his eyebrows pinching together as his cock sent signals to his mind- the same signals that he was close to an orgasm. Untouched and so close just from pleasing you- from hearing your pretty sounds. 
Gojo started to whimper lightly- whimpers that vibrated against your cunt and caused your moans to slur into higher-pitched puffs of air- trying to pull through another orgasm. Taking your lip between your teeth with harshly pinched eyebrows, puffing through your nose with muffled whines. 
He closed his eyes- feeling the knot formed in his tummy snap as your knuckles turned a lighter shade, just from how hard you clawed at his forearm. Feeling a warm spurt onto your bent spine as you tried to focus on cumming. 
It took very little time for Satoru to gift you a fourth orgasm, a small tear falling from your closed eye as you aimlessly shifted in his grasp. 
Satoru sloppily licked at your cunt- cleaning up the mess on your clit with a softer tongue, parting his eyes and looking at your expression. Slowly easing his grasp on your hips as he unfolded you, placing one last kiss onto your cunt, earning a spasm from your hips. 
He eased your hips back down onto the couch, watching your fucked out expression breathe in as much air as you could- trying to catch your breath. 
Uncaring if the mess he spurt onto your back messied the couch- you always complained about how ugly it was anyway. 
He lazily laid himself atop you- placing the side of his face on your collarbone as your hands rested on his shoulders, rubbing small circles on his skin. Grunting softly from how easily he laid his entire body weight on yours. 
You parted your eyes, trying to blink away the post-orgasm haze. Even if you had showered a few hours ago- Satoru’s bath offer sounded like heaven. 
It seemed to take no longer than a few slow blinks. Easing into the clawfoot bathtub Satoru chose specifically for times like these when he bought the house. 
Sighing softly as his arms held you close, his palm gently sprawled against your lower belly and your back pressed to his chest. Avoiding the conversation that needed to be spoken about.
Knowing it would never be spoken if you shoved it off, jettisoned aside to be talked about later. 
“Satoru?” you hummed, placing the back of your head onto his chest. 
He sighed, closing his eyes and nodding his head 'no'. “I don’t wanna talk about that right now.” he huffed, feeling your hand clasp his beneath the water. Interlocking your fingers with his and closing your eyes. 
“If we don’t talk about it now, we never will.” 
Satoru smiled. “Then let’s never talk about it~” he scoffed. 
You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to make sense of the meaningless words he babbled into your ear earlier. “You really wanna marry me again?” you asked- unsure if they were just words he mindlessly spouted at the moment- or if they had any meaning. 
He scoffed, “What kind of question is that?” 
Inhaling as though you were about to speak- “Course I wanna marry you again,” he hummed. Rubbing your belly softly, “nd make you a mom again.” 
Pulling his hand from your tummy with a scoff, causing small ripples in the water. “Be serious.”
“You have no idea how serious I’m being right now.”
Your lips pulled to the side, mulling over his proclamation. 
“You still love me?” he asked, looking down at the side of your face. 
Turning your neck slightly, you peered your eyes up at him with sincerity filling them. Furrowing your eyebrows, you tried not to admit it, but-  “Of course I still love you, ‘toru.” You mumbled. Heartfelt words that rang true in your heart. 
“I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.”
“Then marry me.” he whirred, watching your hand pull his left one up from the water. Your eyes admiring the wedding band he hadn’t taken off. 
You stayed silent, holding his ringed hand in yours. Satoru would be lying if he said seeing your ring finger empty didn't hurt. 
Your silence gave Gojo his answer, “Why not?” he whispered, hearing a ragged sigh from your lips. “I still love you- you. You still love me-”
“M’scared.” you mumbled. Feeling your shoulders tense against his chest with a small ripple in the water. 
Satoru let out a half-laugh from his chest. “Of what? I’ve been good, haven’t I?” he grinned, his playful tone invading your ears. 
“You were good when I was pregnant too.” you quipped, dropping his hand into the water and recalling the days he started slipping through your grasp. 
You sniffled lightly, “nd look what happened.”
Satoru bit his tongue. Knowing if he started defending his baseless actions, this would end up being a fight. 
“I spent so long wondering if it was me- if I was the problem.” you scoffed. “I don’t want to let you back in just for the same thing to happen.” 
Satoru pulled you closer with a sigh, “It won’t happen again.” he whispered into your ear, “I promise.” 
You huffed air from your nose, making Satoru think you didn’t believe him. “I’ll even write it into my vows this time.”
A small laugh left your lips, “You won’t miss single life too much?” you played, feeling his head rest against yours. 
“Not once have I felt single since you signed those papers.” he grinned. 
You pondered his offer, pretending to actually consider the option before you. 
Satoru softly kissed your ear, “C’mon- I’ll be such a good husband~” he whispered. 
It wasn’t as though you ever really felt single either- That one year spent apart was still full of love and a marital dynamic. 
The rest of the night was spent in the same bed Satoru built after you moved into the house, cuddled up just the way you had longed for since he moved out. 
The following day, Satoru couldn’t wait for his son to fully wake up- he walked into the hazy child's bedroom and asked if he wanted a little brother or sister. 
All smiles and beaming eyes in the kitchen- telling his son that his plan worked. He made you fall in love with him, and he was finally your husband again.
And as you watched your husband and your son giggle with each other in the kitchen, you smiled. Warm cheeks from the thought that Satoru actually thought you stopped loving him at some point.
But then again, you never really fell out of love, did you?
-
I loved writing this sm.
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chrisevansonly · 20 days
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Lando’s Girls
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lando norris x female reader
summary: there is no one lando loves more than you and his little baby girl
warnings: none very cute and soft lando
a/n: hi hi i’m a slob at writing i know but hopefully getting back into it more frequently this is meh but enjoy 😭
The sun was out in Monaco, the warm breeze filtering through the balconies that overlooked the harbour, the waves rolling into the many yachts that lined the docks. But up here, all the way up on the top floor of the building, sat Lando with his little baby girl Eloise Norris, all 8 months of her, looking up happily at her dad.
“oh you’re smiling at me huh? my cheeky girl”
Eloise flailed her arms as she hit her stomach lightly, letting out little babbles, Lando wishing he could hear these sounds for the rest of his life.
“i think you like the sun hmm? finally some nice weather?”
Lando had let you get some extra sleep after being up through the night with her, she’d been fighting off a cold and finally seemed to be turning the corner to getting back to her normal self.
You’d wandered downstairs in search of the two of them, furrowing your brows when they weren’t in the living room or playroom, but the sound of more giggles caught your attention and you made your way to the screen door.
“well there are my two favourite people!”
At the sound of your voice Eloise smiled even wider, Lando gently picking her up so she could stand, holding her sides so she wouldn’t wobble or fall.
“aren’t you the cutest little bug! did daddy dress you?”
Lando smiled
“say yes, my daddy dressed me, he does it the best!”
“Lan!”
Smacking him on the shoulder he laughed, before tilting his head back so you could lean down and kiss him, only then sitting next to them and kissing your little girls cheeks.
“daddy is being mean to mummy huh angel?”
Eloise smiled still, babbling away as she reached for you, your arms pulling her to your chest, before you leaned back into Lando, relaxing against him.
“i am doing no such thing…”
“oh sure you aren’t”
A quiet fell over the two of you, traffic noises beginning to fill the space as the city woke up more and more, Eloise’s eyes fluttering shut as she fell asleep against you.
“no better place in the world than right here, with my girls”
“lando’s girls hmm?”
Pressing a few kisses to your neck he hummed in response, every second he got to spend at home with the two of you, he never ever took for granted. The race season was long and hard, even more so being away from you and little norris too.
“thank you for this morning love..”
“you don’t have to thank me, i just wanted you to get your sleep”
Smiling you leaned further into him, the sun warm on your skin, a feeling after a few days of rain you missed.
“I love you”
Lando smiled as your eyes fluttered shut, his arms tightening around the two of you
“I love you to my angels…”
As you fell asleep along with your daughter, Lando couldn’t help but admire you both. Taking a few photos to save for himself, one that would turn into his lock screen a few hours later. He would do anything for his girls, be the best husband and father he could be, keep you both smiling and happy, and going above and beyond to keep you two safe and protected.
Even being the world’s best pillow for nap times, because let’s face it…he was a pretty comfy one.
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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Multiverse part 3
You sat in a small room on a padded chair, with equipment set up around your arm, chest, and fingertips. A polygraph test. That's what you were being forced to take. And to your chagrin, Ghost is in the room with you and Captain Price.
"Try to relax, yeah?" Price commented. He must've noticed your restless leg.
"I'll do that, shall I? I've done nothing wrong, other than exist and I'm being interrogated. Because that's what this is— an interrogation." You finally turn your attention from Ghost to look at Price, who's sitting at the desk by your side. "Tell me, Captain. Did you get this same treatment when you came back after spending all that time locked up in the gulag?"
His dark eyebrows furrow in confusion. A sigh escapes your bitten lips. That's only in your...world, for lack of a better term. Dimension? Universe?
"I haven't been to the gulag here." Yeah, obviously.
With an impatient wave of the hand that doesn't have cables strapped to it, you mutter, "Let's get on with this circus act, then. Ask your questions."
Ghost steps forward, his arms unfolding as if he's about to speak to you, but Price swiftly intervenes, halting him with a raised hand.
"Alright then. Baseline questions first. Name." Ghost gives away nothing when you say your last name is Riley.
It goes like this for a few, then he switches to the control questions, until finally moving on to the relevant ones.
"How did you get here?" I don't know.
"Do you know why you're here?" No.
He pulls up a photograph. "Recognize him?" Captain MacTavish.
Another photo. "Him?" I don't know.
"What do you mean by that?" If that's Roach, I've never seen his face unmasked.
"You're sure you don't know him?" Unless that man's name is Gary Sanderson, no. I do not know him.
Price acknowledges your response with a nod, then shifts his gaze towards Ghost, whose head slightly tilts forward. Returning his attention to you, he retrieves a final photograph. "What about him?"
As you look at the picture, your eyes begin to well with tears, lip trembling violently. A new fracture reverberated through your tender heart, intensifying the ache in your chest. Yes.
"Who is he?" Price softly asks.
"That's my Simon," your voice broke on the last syllable. It was hard to not use a possessive adjective when the face of your husband was in that picture.
Blinking the tears away, you clear your throat. "Anything else, Captain?"
Price purses his lips under his hefty facial hair and responds, "Just a few more questions."
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Once finished, you sat unabashedly staring at Ghost in the tiny room. "I wear Roach's tags alongside yours, in honor. He was with you until the very end, and for that, I couldn't be more grateful."
Ghost is completely silent, but you continue talking anyway. "I've been married to you since a bit after you came home on leave that one time. You know the one."
His eyes are emotionless, blank, as he stares at you. But you know him like the back of your hand. You've got his full attention.
"I accompanied you to your brother's wedding. He married a woman, Beth. She was good for him. They had a baby, your nephew, named Joseph. The love you had for him was one of a kind. I had told you later that evening that I dreamed of the day you'd look at our children like that."
With a shuddery breath, you tell him how none of those matters. Because your husband is dead, and you're stuck here. With his counterpart that hates you.
With a hushed click, the door closes shut behind him as he leaves, yet its resounding noise fills the compact room you're in.
You begin to fidget with the sizeable ring that hangs on a thin necklace beneath your shirt— the metal is warm under your touch as if it had never gone cold in the first place.
As if Simon had never taken it off his finger to go find Makarov.
ah theyre short but hurt. much pain.
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artist-issues · 4 months
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Disney doesn't need to change "the formula." That's the last thing that Wish proves.
What Wish proves is that "the formula" only works when you know why the ingredients are in it, and you use them the correct way.
The Princess Character is meant to wish for only half of the movie's message, and go through an adventure that teaches her what the other half is; what her dream was missing. Ariel dreamed of understanding but she was missing love. Tiana dreamed of achieving her goals but she was missing faith. Jasmine dreamed of freedom but she was missing trust. Belle dreamed of adventure but she was missing being understood.
The Villain is meant to highlight the opposite of the movie's message. Jafar gets what he wants through trickery and manipulation; that's the opposite of Aladdin's "truth will set you free" message, and he gets imprisoned in a lamp. Scar thinks being a King is having his way all the time and can't learn from his past of living in Mufasa's shadow; that's the opposite of The Lion King's "Let the past remind you of your responsibility to selflessness." Gaston loves only himself and is always obsessed with appearances; that's the opposite of Beauty & the Beast's "true love is found within a heart of self-sacrifice." That's what makes them such good villains. (and that clear direction is what drives good villain songs, since Magnifico's is what everyone is talking about)
The sidekick is supposed to compare/contrast with the main character's qualities. Abu is a greedy thief, which is what everyone in Agrabah thinks Aladdin is; when he scolds Abu and teaches him selflessness, it shows us who Aladdin actually is. Flounder is easily frightened and looks at the glass half-full; when Ariel coaxes him and leads by example, we see her bravery and positivity reflected in Flounder's tiny character arc. Timon & Pumbaa do whatever they want all day just like young Simba always dreamed of; when Simba goes to live with them, he finds that "getting his way all the time" makes him forget who he really is and feel empty.
The setting is supposed to show off the characters and highlight the movie's message. Rapunzel's tower is designed to be pretty on the inside because of her influence; if it were too dark and prison-shaped, we'd wonder why she didn't work up the courage to leave sooner. Just like how Quasimodo has made his corner of the bell-tower beautiful, too; they're taught the world is cruel and they're not strong enough for it, but they make their own worlds beautiful enough to hint that that's wrong right from the start. Ariel's grotto is shaped like a tower with no roof so that she only has one window to the forbidden Surface, and it's the light that comes from that forbidden world into her dark grotto which literally makes her able to see human things differently. Tiana's apartment has no interesting features except her father's picture, a perfectly made bed, a drawer with no extra outfits but stuffed with tip money, and only two dresses; both of which are for work.
None of that is happening in Wish, because they didn't know why the formula ingredients are there. Disney needs to understand and return to the formula the right way; forgetting it was what got them here.
Asha learns nothing to add to her dream, unless you count "the power to grant wishes is in me." Which you shouldn't, because we didn't even know she was confused about that until the animals sang a song that was completely off-topic and she had the chance to jump in and sing "I'm a Star!"
Magnifico does not demonstrate the opposite of Wish's message effectively because his character has nothing to do with a philosophy against making wishes, and everything to do with power. (He is the strongest character in the film. But because the message and core concept of what wishes are are so bad, that's not saying much.)
Valentino, and Asha's friends, do not highlight anything about her character through compare/contrast. Valentino is brave and all over the place. Her friends are seven-dwarfs parodies. Happy, Doc, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful, Sleepy, Grumpy. None of that contrasts with Asha's vague characterization of "cares too much." None of it compares to that characterization, either.
The setting is empty. There are no interesting details that teach you something about any of the characters. None in Asha's home, none in the neat-and-tidy one-dimensional forest, none in the Rosas square, and none in the bland, empty castle. Magnifico's study is the closest anything gets; there's a loose concept that all of Asha's friends have to work together to open the roof, and take a leap of faith to weigh the pulley system down. Unfortunately, none of these characters is shown struggling to work together, OR to take leaps of faith, at all, before this point.
The ingredients of the formula are in Wish. They're just not being used correctly. This is how not to use the formula; it's not the formulas fault. If it ain't broke. They should never have let people convince them to try and fix it.
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angelwonie · 11 months
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X + Y = YOU AND I || jeon wonwoo
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PAIRING: academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader
WORD COUNT: 8.6k
GENRE(S): smut, fluff, rivals to lovers, college au
SUMMARY: you wish jeon wonwoo would sometimes act like an insufferable prick instead of the perfect guy, because then you wouldn't have to feel your head spinning each time he looks at you.
WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, fingering, use of petnames (baby, good girl), praise, some degradation, sex in an empty classroom] wonwoo is so in love
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Class discussions where both Wonwoo and you are involved never end well. 
Partly, it’s because none of you possess the ability of backing down from a fight, but mostly it’s because of Wonwoo’s annoying tendencies of having read all the books in the world, which allows him to criticize every word that comes out of your mouth. 
Which again leaves you with no choice but to get angry and argue even more vividly — though Soonyoung claims that’s just your own stubbornness making matters worse. 
He doesn’t get it, though. The desire to beat Wonwoo at his own game each time he opens his mouth. It’s something you can’t entirely explain, but it keeps you grounded, and so you don’t question it too much. The adrenaline that comes along with it is enough for you. 
And that’s exactly what keeps you going today — Wonwoo’s annoying takes on social anthropology.
“I just don’t think cultural differences are the root of conflicts.”
He says this and shrugs, eyes subconsciously drifting to the side to look at you. As expected, you’re already raising your hand to comment on his statement and he has to fight the urge to smile. Despite coming in tired, eyes drooping, you’re eager to partake in a discussion with him. Always. It’s a little too reassuring to think about, so he stops, and instead focuses on what you’re saying. 
“That’s a baseless claim to make,” you scoff, and again, he feels his lip twitch, almost forming a smile. “Of course they are. No differences means nothing to fight about.”
“Yes, in theory,” he says, and his eyes crinkle with the smile he offers you. A smile you can’t seem to tell if is cocky or genuine. “But cultural differences aren't everything. If we don’t have culture, people will still form opinions. And those opinions will still become the roots of conflicts.”
With those words, he crosses his arms over his chest, his elbow bumping into you. 
You’re not sure who came up with the idea of the two of you sitting together in the classroom, but moments like these make you want to find that person and rip their hair out. Because in what universe should you have to argue with Jeon Wonwoo while his shoulder is literally touching yours? 
It’s stupid, unethical, and every other derogatory term you can come up with, but most of all, it’s making it hard to focus. Obviously, it’s not about him, it’s about the closeness itself. You think. Probably. 
You lean a bit to your left so you can actually think of a response, but end up sighing and asking a question instead. 
“So you’re saying conflicts are inevitable?”
He tongues his cheek – a sign that he’s in deep thought – and bumps his elbow into you again. An accident, probably, but it catches your attention nevertheless. 
“I’m saying disagreements become conflicts because we can’t handle our emotions. It’s not differences that are the problem, it’s our way of handling them.”
And there it is — that twinkle in his eyes that signalizes he knows he’s won. You know it, too, from the way he leans back into his chair and your words die down in your throat and the professor nods his head approvingly. Still, you wish he wouldn’t be so fucking happy about it.
“Asshole,” you mumble only loud enough for him to hear as you sink back into the chair. 
He chuckles and you feel your insides turn. God, he’s annoying. Super annoying. 
Especially when he leans a bit to your side of the desk, face a lot closer to yours than it needs to be when he whispers, “Good job.” 
You glare at his soft expression, your own face heating up in something resembling embarrassment. 
“No need to gloat about your success, dickhead.”
“I’m not gloating,” he frowns, the smile slowly fading from his face.
“Sure you aren’t. You’re just kindly reminding me that you’re better than me.”
“That’s not what– That’s not true.”
His voice falters, and he leans back in his chair and taps his pen against the desk. You scoff at him, but it’s nowhere as threatening as you’d like it to be — thrown off by the quiver in his tone. 
“It is true,” you whisper, more to yourself, and avert your gaze from him. 
The professor picks up where he left off, and you let your thoughts scatter and eyes drift closed. It’s been a long day, you think. Thankfully, the professor’s got you and Wonwoo placed in the back, and so he doesn’t notice it when you manage to fall asleep in your chair, head falling to the side. 
Wonwoo notices, though. Your cheek squished against your shoulder, hair in your face. It’s not the first time you’ve fallen asleep in class, and he should probably start scolding you for it, but seeing your under eye bags and hearing your tired voice makes something turn unpleasantly in his stomach. And so he lets you sleep. 
(It’s all because of his perceptiveness.
You know about this trait of his, and it’s awful. How he hands you a pen when you’ve forgotten your own without you having to ask for it. How he knows when to shut up during an argument, because your face tells him he’s won. How he never feels the need to embarrass you, or anyone, for that matter.
He’s a good person in and out, and you hate him for it.) 
It’s not before the class is nearing its end that Wonwoo decides to wake you. 
“Y/N,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, and then a deep voice hits your ears. Wonwoo’s voice, you realize instantly, and then criticize your heart for jumping at the thought. “You might wanna wake up for this.”
“Huh?” 
Wonwoo’s smiling at you softly, and you sit up straight, confused. At least until you see your professor clutching his phone against his ear, muttering aggressively.
“His wife called,” Wonwoo explains in a hushed tone, leaning towards you so you hear him better. “I feel kinda bad for the guy. She doesn’t seem to like him very much.”
You rub your eyes and yawn, then realize Wonwoo is sitting right there, and clear your throat. 
“Maybe he’s an asshole.”
“Maybe,” he turns to look at you. “Girls like assholes, though, don’t they? 
Your breath hitches in your throat involuntarily. You’re not sure whether it’s from the question or from the way he’s looking at you – like he’s already got you all figured out – but it’s making you nervous. All of it, him. And now that you’re discussing a topic you’re not certain about, it shows. 
You chuckle nervously, “Where’d you get that from?”
“You, mostly.”
“Excuse me?”
He offers you a smile, one that you subconsciously accept by feeling your insides turn to mush. This has got to be the longest you’ve spoken to him without mutual friends around, and without arguing. Truthfully, you don’t hate it. You’d never have thought that this would be the topic of your first ever civil conversation, though. 
“Minghao? Seungkwan? Your type’s pretty obvious.”
“Do you spy on me or something?” you ask, a little baffled he knows the names of your previous boyfriends. You weren’t hiding it or anything, but Wonwoo’s never shown much interest in you outside of class. “Plus, that was months ago.” 
He fixes his glasses and tilts his head to the side.
“Yeah? And what type of guys do you like now?”
You open your mouth to answer, but the words die down in your throat. Not assholes, you could say. He’s sparked your curiosity, though — what type of guys do you like now? Because you know for a fact that you’re done with assholes, which is why you’ve been trying your hardest to classify Wonwoo as one up until now. 
“I–”
You’re saved from answering his question by your professor, who’s successfully hung up on his wife and is now announcing that class is over. 
A sigh of relief escapes past your lips — another thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo, but he doesn’t push. He simply gathers his stuff, his pen that you borrowed included, and slings his bag over his shoulder. You smile at him, softly, a little hesitantly, because it feels right to do so.
His glasses rest at the tip of his nose as he stands up and says, “See you around, Y/N.”
Then, he walks off and you no longer fight the smile that makes its way to your face. 
“Okay, so I think we all know why this meeting is being held.”
This is the first thing Soonyoung says as he sits down by the round table in the cafeteria, latte almost spilling out of his cup. You and Minjeong perch up in curiosity, and she puts her phone away in favor of commenting Soonyoung’s poor word choices. 
“Meeting? It’s our lunch break, dude.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at Minjeong who snickers. “This lunch break is being held because–”
“–Because we need to eat?” you raise a brow. 
“Y/N, you are literally in no position to act all smart right now. It’s you that we need to talk about.”
“Me?”
You look to Minjeong, but she only shrugs, meaning that this is a Soonyoung thing. You try racking your brain to find what the hell he might want to discuss, but nothing comes to you. Not even when Soonyoung offers you one of his signature smirks that signalize he’s up to no good. 
“You, and hot nerd Jeon Wonwoo.”
Your mouth falls open in genuine shock. “Wonwoo?”
“Did you just call him ‘hot nerd’?” Minjeong slaps her hand over her mouth as she laughs, but stops when she sees you glaring at her. “Damn, okay, someone’s defensive.”
“Yes, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung leans over the table, hands together on the table like some sort of Hollywood detective. “What’s the deal with you and him?”
“What deal?” you look to the side for some help, but all Minjeong offers you is a smirk. She’s enjoying this a little too much for your liking. “Why are you looking at me like that? There’s no deal. We don’t get along, that’s all.”
“You sure looked like you got along yesterday,” Soonyoung giggles like a little schoolgirl, and you feel your face heating up. Of course he noticed, even though you barely talked with Wonwoo for three minutes. “Also, have you seen how he looks at you?”
“Like he wants to kill me?”
“Like he wants to kiss you. You’re mistaking passion for hate, babe. Or maybe you’re just pretending, because there’s no way you’re not seeing how cute you are together.”
“Me and Wonwoo?” you ask again, incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way.”
“You have to admit, he’s pretty hot,” Minjeong cuts in. “Plus, you guys have, like, undeniable chemistry.”
“The only chemistry me and him share is the class. Which already sucks enough.”
“You know what they say, denial is a river in egypt.” 
“Nobody says that, Minjeong,” you glare at her, deciding that it’s better to get out of here before you start doubting yourself. “Anyway, I gotta go to class, so get those Wonwoo delusions out of your heads, okay? Because that’s what this is — delusion.”
“Funny you had to clarify that.”
“Just because you’re insufferable,” you send them a painfully fake smile and grab your things so you can walk away, almost missing the words Soonyoung mutters under his breath. 
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Usually, you can’t be found in the university’s backyard ripping your hair, but usually, you also don’t fail your chemistry exams. 
You might be acting a tad bit dramatic, running out of class and sitting down on the grass with your back pressed against the stone cold wall to cool off, but that’s something to worry about later. Right now you’re just focused on feeling sorry for yourself. Which you are. To a very high degree. 
“Are you okay?”
You jump at the sudden intrusion to your self-wallowing, turning around only to be met with a familiar face. His glasses are high up on his nose and his hair is neat, smile lines nowhere to be seen.
“Wonwoo?” you ask, a bit embarrassed that he’s seeing you in this state, especially when he looks so put together. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I read here every free period,” he says, frowning. “It’s you that should be in class right now.”
“Do you have my schedule memorized or something?” you look at him accusingly, pulling your legs closer to your chest for comfort. “Anyway, I’m just sitting here.”
Wonwoo’s silent for a moment, pondering on what to do, and then he takes a step in your direction. You don’t run away or protest, so he takes another one and another one until he’s close enough to sink down on the grass next to you. 
“You look more like you’re drowning in sadness.”
“Yeah, well, I failed an exam, so,” you say and hand him the paper your hands gripped just a moment ago — your test with every mistake highlighted in red. The whole sheet might’ve just been red at this point, you think. 
He examines it, brows furrowed, then hands it back. “Chemistry? I thought you were good at that, though.”
Your heart falters in embarrassment.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. That’s why I’m fucking sad.”
You don’t mean for it to sound so angry, but it comes out harsh and bitter. It’s nothing like Wonwoo’s used to hearing you speak. And what comes after shocks him even more — the tears that well up in your eyes and then fall, he can see them even as you turn away from him, perhaps in fear of judgement. 
“Wait,” he says, a little dumbfounded. “Are you crying?”
It’s a stupid question, but his tone isn’t judging. Still, it doesn't ease anything — you feel like you’re about to explode. And what’s worse is that he’s here, Jeon Wonwoo, of all people, watching you cry over something so miniscule that he probably can’t even relate to. You’re not sure why it bothers you so much that he’s seeing you in this state, but it does, it really does bother you, so much you feel like you might die. 
“Yes, I’m crying, Wonwoo,” you say, wiping your cheeks to your best ability. “Jesus christ. I did badly on a test, so I already feel like shit, and then you always have to come up to me with those stupid comments of yours.”
He blinks in surprise from behind his glasses, and even through your bitterness, you think to yourself that he looks cute like that — confused, for the very first time. At least it’s the very first time you are seeing him like this. But, to be fair, this is his very first time seeing you like this, too. 
“I thought you liked it when I'm mean to you, though,” he says finally, and you look at him in disbelief.
“Wonwoo, are you seriously just here to imply I have a degradation kink?” 
He remains silent for a minute, hesitating.
“Great.” 
You laugh through the tears that have now stopped falling, and Wonwoo exhales in something that resembles relief. His gaze is still set on you, unrelenting, like he’s still trying to put together the puzzle. Does he want to leave? 
A part of you hopes he won’t. Because despite that it’s a bit embarrassing, you could use someone to talk to right now. Even if it’s just so you can get your frustration out somehow. 
“What I’m trying to say is,” he starts, choosing his words carefully. “I didn't mean it like that. I never do.”
You meet his gaze – soft eyes that remain otherwise unreadable – and let out a breathy chuckle. 
“Yeah, whatever.”
You kick one of the stones in front of you, and watch it bounce a couple of times before it settles a little further away. Wonwoo doesn’t leave, even though you’re giving no signs of continuing the conversation. He just sits there, shoulder a centimeter or two from yours, and listens to both your breaths. Both uneven — his is nervous, while yours is upset. 
“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says finally, catching you off guard just enough for you to turn in his direction again. “If I ever cross the line, tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He bites his lip awkwardly as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach. It’s silent for a while, the back of your throat burning — threatening that you might start crying again if you say something now. 
He pushes his glasses further up his nose, and that’s when you decide to take the leap. Leap meaning that you lean forward to engulf him in a hug, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. 
It catches him off guard, you can tell. His muscles tense, breath caught up in his throat and your own heart beats so fast you think you might die. But it feels nice, hugging him. And it feels even nicer when he wraps his arms around you, too, albeit hesitantly. 
You stay like that, bathing in his scent – peach and jasmine with a hint of something you can’t quite identify – and somehow, you feel at peace. The test is still at the back of your head, obviously, bugging you, but it’s faint compared to Wonwoo and his hand that begins to slowly stroke your hair. 
“Thank you.”
The words are whispered into the crook of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. 
They’re so quiet he barely hears them, might’ve mistaken them for a hiccup hadn’t he paid complete attention, but he is. He is paying attention. To how your muscles loosen up in his arms and there are no longer tears soaking through his shirt; how his own heart beats a little faster than usual; how he’s so painfully aware of the fact that talking to you only makes him like you more.
More meaning that he’s afraid he might be advancing from the useless crush he’d developed watching you argue with him during class. Advancing into uncharted territory that he’s never even intended exploring. Though he supposes he sabotaged himself by approaching you today. 
“It’s nothing.”
But it’s a lie. It is something — the butterflies in your stomach or the warmth spreading across Wonwoo’s chest. Whatever you want to regard it as, it is something. 
And that something settles in the very depths of your mind and his mind alike. 
When Soonyoung announces that he’s bringing Wonwoo to come study with you and Minjeong in the library, your first instinct is to tell him you’re not coming. 
Obviously, you’re embarrassed. And scared. And a million other things you can’t even begin to describe with words. He saw you crying, after all. Jeon Wonwoo, top of the class, saw you crying over a bad grade. It really doesn’t get much worse than that. 
Still, you go. Mostly because you know staying at the dorm would spark questions from your nosy friends, but also because you don’t want Wonwoo thinking you’re avoiding him. Or else he’s going to think you care — which, essentially, you do. But he doesn’t have to know that. 
“Do you think Wonwoo will laugh at me if I get the questions wrong?” Minjeong asks as you stand outside the door to the library, her hand on the handle.
“No,” you say. “He’s not like that.”
She opens the door, and you walk inside, met with the smell of books. Soonyoung and Wonwoo are sitting by the chess boards, talking, and you feel something turn in your stomach. Is it too late to leave now? Judging by Minjeong’s worried face, she isn’t so keen on being here either. Maybe you could both just go home.
Yet when she bites her lip and asks, “Are you sure?”, you can’t bring yourself to lie just so you won’t have to face him.
“Yeah. You should ask him to teach you if you don’t understand something, you know. Better to feel a little embarrassed than to fail an exam.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Just as she says this, Soonyoung catches your gaze and waves eagerly, urging you and Minjeong to come closer. He whispers something to Wonwoo, and he, too, turns to smile in your direction.
“Guess there’s no backing out now,” Minjeong giggles and you nod your head. There really isn’t. 
The two of you make your way to the table where the boys are sitting and pick your chairs. Minjeong’s quick to sit next to Soonyoung, so you’re left with no other option but to plop down on the chair closest to Wonwoo. Normally, that would’ve only mildly annoyed you, but now, three days after he saw you bawling your eyes out, you can feel your heartbeat speed up vastly.
“Hey,” Wonwoo says and you almost jump. You’re not sure why, but you hadn’t expected him to speak to you first. 
“Hi,” you reply and try smiling at him. Thankfully, he smiles, too. “What are you guys studying?”
“Chemistry,” he says, and upon seeing you wince, he’s quick to add, “‘Cause Soonyoung’s struggling with it. He asked me to teach him.”
You have to bite back a smile at his worried tone. “Ah, I see.”
He fixes his glasses, and clears his throat.
“It’s a really tricky subject, though, so I understand why you– uh, he, finds it troublesome.”
“Right,” you nod your head with a giggle, and you can almost feel Soonyoung’s stare burning into your side. It’s fine, though, because now, Wonwoo looks the slightest bit more relaxed. 
You pull out your notebooks and textbook along with a coffee you’d made earlier, and when Wonwoo says your notes look pretty, you can’t help but grin. You kind of wish he weren’t so nice to you, but it doesn’t make you feel awkward, so you suppose you don’t have much room to complain. 
It’s probably just reality catching up to you that’s making you nervous — the fact that he’s not so argumentative outside of class, and that you definitely felt something pull at the very bottom of your heart that day you failed the exam. That, and how the feeling isn’t giving any signs of leaving soon.
You let those thoughts wander as you start making notes, and soon enough, even Soonyoung goes quiet, occupied by his own stuff. It stays like that for a while, and at some point, Wonwoo’s knee bumps into yours. Warmth spreads all across you and you look at him. 
“Sorry,” he whispers apologetically, retracting his leg, and the warmth subsides. In return you send him a smile in which you hope he can’t glimpse your slight – and unsettling – disappointment. 
“It’s okay.”
And then it’s silent again, your body painfully aware of the fact that if you lean your leg a bit to the right you’ll touch Wonwoo. It’s not like you want to touch him, at least you don’t think you do, but the awareness is slightly nerve-wracking for some unknown reason. Everything about him is.  
“Wonwoo,” Minjeong says, breaking the silence, making both his and your heads shoot up to look at her. “Y/N told me you could help me if I asked, so… I was wondering if you could explain biomolecules to me.”
“Of course.”
A quick smile flashes in your direction and then he’s leaning over the table to help Minjeong. His fingers follow the illustrations in her textbook and he starts talking — something about structure, you think. You listen intently, and it makes sense even though you’ve barely started the chapter, but you can’t bring yourself to take notes of what he’s saying. Can’t bring yourself to take your eyes off of him.
You wonder silently if he always was this handsome. You try to think of the times you spoke to him in class before, but it’s hard to recall his face in any other form than what your eyes meet now — focused gaze, lips moving to the rhythm of his voice. His glasses are slowly sliding down his nose, and you feel an immeasurable urge to push them up, but he beats you to it. 
“Basically, they’re essential for cell division to happen,” he says, and you lean forward to look at the picture he’s pointing to.
Your shoulder bumps into his and he turns to the side. You notice, but don’t react in fear that you’ll just end up giggling like a schoolgirl. Instead, you pretend to read some of the text in the book. 
Wonwoo picks up where he left off, voice a little hoarser than before, but you don’t move. Neither does he.
“Can you say that again?” you ask after he says something you don’t understand. 
He repeats with his head turned in your direction, and your eyes drift down to his lips. You don’t want them to, it just happens, your stomach tying into a tight knot. You’re almost entirely sure nobody is supposed to look this hot while talking about biomolecules. Or was it morphogenesis? You honestly don’t know. 
You don’t know why you feel like this with him of all people. Truly, there could be a lot of factors playing into it. The fact that he’s a smooth talker; the fact that he’s both intelligent and knowledgeable; the fact that you’ve grown to know him — what makes his blood boil and what makes him chuckle; the fact that he’s a constant in a sea of variables. 
Maybe that last point especially. That even when everything else goes to hell, the moment you step into social anthropology class, he’s always there. Always willing to entertain you with, albeit sometimes pointless, banter. 
You don’t even know what this is, though. Feeling your head spin when you look at him, having mini heart attacks when he says your name — are these the signs of you going insane? It could very well be that, you think. Insanity feels like the right word to explain your state right now. 
“Y/N,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You listening?”
Your eyes drift back to his own, and you swear you see a glimpse of amusement playing in his gaze when you mumble a quiet “Yeah.”
Suddenly very aware of Soonyoung and Minjeong’s presence, as well as Wonwoo’s burning stare, you stand up, dusting off your clothes.
“I just need some fresh air,” you offer as an explanation. 
“Mind if I join?”
You look at Wonwoo in disbelief as he asks the question. What the fuck? You don’t mind – at least in the sense that implies you don’t like his company – but it’s the same issue again; he makes you nervous. Goodbye to going for a relaxing walk, you suppose. And goodbye to whatever left there is of your sanity. 
After what seems like hours of overthinking, you decide to get your shit together and send him a smile paired with a nod. Minjeong raises a brow in your direction, but doesn’t inquire further and internally you thank her for that. You’re not sure what you would’ve told her if she asked. 
You and Wonwoo leave the library together, shoulders close together just like when you were sitting, and you swallow the lump in your throat. 
“Everything okay?” he asks as you leave the building. “You seem a little dazed.”
The air is still cold, though winter is nearing its end and spring is slipping through the cracks. You pull your jacket closer to your body in hopes of both warming yourself up and slowing down your heartbeat, but it only fulfills one of those wishes, leaving you to deal with the latter yourself. 
“I’m alright,” you respond with a soft smile. “Thank you for helping Minjeong, by the way. You’re a great teacher.”
Wonwoo’s smile lines shyly make an appearance. “Thanks. I’ve been thinking about becoming a real one, actually.”
You stop walking and turn your head in disbelief. Somehow, you didn’t expect that answer. Wonwoo was always a diligent student, but now that you come to think of it, he never really talked about his plans for the future, or what he wanted to do with his degree in chemical engineering. 
“Seriously?” 
“Yeah,” his cheeks redden ever so slightly. “Teaching chemistry honestly doesn’t sound that bad.”
You take a moment to think it through — him, in a suit and those glasses that fall down his nose, teaching kids about biomolecules. The idea is foreign, and yet, it fits just right. 
You nudge him with your shoulder. “Professor Jeon, huh? It would suit you.”
He lets out a snort of laughter that sounds nothing like the small chuckles you’d hear from him during class. But it sounds nice, this loud laughter and you bathe in it for as long as it lasts. You’re starting to enjoy this whole ‘being kind to each other’ thing. Suits you better than yelling about something stupid in class. It suits him better, too. 
Content with everything, you begin walking again and he follows suit. The grass is a little wet from yesterday’s rain and outgrown as it is, it tickles your ankles. It might’ve been mildly annoying if you weren’t so stupidly happy for whatever reason.  
Whatever reason being Wonwoo, of course. You might be bad at chemistry, but you like to think you’re not dumb — at least not in an oblivious way. It’s become quite obvious, you think, that you like him. 
The thought partly makes you want to kick your feet in the air and partly, it makes you want to rip your hair out. You like Wonwoo. It’s something so unexpected it makes you feel very bare as you stand there on the grass outside of your university, with your cold hands buried in the pockets of your jacket and Wonwoo’s eyes glimmering in the faint sunlight. 
You like him. God, it feels weird to admit. 
“About that day…” Wonwoo’s voice brings you back to reality, and you take a second to register what he’s saying.
“I freaked you out, didn’t I?” you ask. 
“No, no, it’s not that,” he looks away and sighs softly, only to look directly at you the next second. “I just wanted to make sure you remember that one mistake doesn’t make you a failure. I should’ve said it earlier, but that day I was a bit… taken aback, I suppose. Not by the crying, obviously, but by the whole situation. And you.” 
“Me,” you repeat, tasting the word on your tongue. Your heart starts beating a little faster, despite your best efforts at staying calm. He’s just talking after all; it’s not like this is some sort of love confession.
“Not in a bad way. Just in a new way,” he’s quick to assure you and you feel your heart swell in your chest. 
“New. You make it sound so pretty.”
You laugh a bit, looking down on your hands. It. Does he even know what you mean? Does he know you’re talking about the fact that you’re slowly but surely starting to fall in love with him? Or is he just talking about seeing you vulnerable the other day? 
“What would you call it?” he asks and you can’t stop your gaze from drifting back to him.
“I don’t know, confusing? And kind of insane.”
You swear his eyes drop to your lips for a mere second at that. He doesn’t say anything, just walks by you in silence, and it drives you crazy. You wish he’d say something – anything – just so you’d know if you’re even on the same page, but you don’t rush him. 
Finally, he smiles at you. 
“If insanity is losing control, then yes, I suppose I’m going insane. But it doesn’t feel all that insane to me.”
His eyes crinkle, soft streaks of sun painted across his face and you almost sigh. In delight, relief, or maybe fear, you’re not sure, but it’s those words, you think, that will linger. Those are the types of words to never abandon your mind, you’re sure of it. 
“Did you rehearse this in front of the mirror or something?” you scoff at him, heart heavy in your chest. 
He only laughs, and the sound stays in the air for a long time after you’ve left. 
To say you were shocked to see Jeon Wonwoo sitting outside of his dorm with his head in his hands would be a major understatement. 
You had grown closer to him in the past weeks — walking shoulder to shoulder around campus; him helping you with your homework — it all would’ve seemed unlikely had someone proposed the idea to you a month prior, but now, you had grown to truly enjoy his company. And he enjoyed yours, too. 
In some ways, it stayed normal. 
Comments and half-mean, half-endearing remarks remained untouched; what didn’t was your heart. It seems to be working against you at all times, beating too quickly when Wonwoo unexpectedly smiled in your direction, and dropping down to your stomach in fear whenever you saw him tippling over in emotion, only for the feeling to fade to the sound of his laugh.
This time, though, it doesn’t fade, only intensifies as you hear him curse under his breath. 
“Wonwoo?” you try, and his shoulders tense ever so slightly. 
You watch as he sighs, rubbing his eyes, then sits up straight, back against the wall. He doesn’t respond, even as his eyes, frail as ever, look into yours. They’re a bit darker than usual, and his lashes flutter as he blinks up at you. 
There’s no one in the hallway, as if this part of the school emptied just to grant you a moment of privacy; a deciding moment, something in your stomach tells you. 
“What’s happened?” you ask softly, quietly, unsure of what else to do with this obviously unhappy Jeon Wonwoo that’s sitting on the ground in front of you. 
“It’s nothing,” he mumbles in response, leaning on his arms to stand up. “Just some school stuff.”
The corners of his mouth lift in a small smile, but you call his bullshit. You don’t necessarily doubt the genuinity of his smile, but the way he said it makes you think there is something that happened. 
Taking a step in his direction, you nudge him with your elbow. 
“What, the golden boy failed a test for the first time in his life?”
His eyes change at that — soft crinkles appearing at the very edges of them. His shoulders relax, too, and though it’s barely visible, you see it clearly. The air feels a lot lighter when he tongues his cheek and nudges you back. 
“You sure run your mouth a lot, Y/N,” he grins and you feel butterflies flapping around in the very pits of your stomach. Then the smile fades to be replaced with a faux scolding look as he says, “I suggest you stop.” 
You move to stand right in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. He’s taller, and you have to tilt your chin to look him right in the eyes as you giggle with a hint of playfulness in your gaze. 
“Or what?”
He sees the smile playing on your face, the giddiness in your tone, and his heart bangs loudly against his chest. You look gorgeous today — well, that’s nothing new but it never ceases to amaze him how you can look prettier for each day that goes by.
Is this it? Is this when he’s supposed to make a move, like Soonyoung told him to? What does even ‘make a move’ mean, exactly? 
He supposes it varies — just like the value of variables in the equations he solves so often. 
Then how come he can’t solve this one?
You’re still standing there, looking at him without a care in the world, and he thinks that he’d never forgive himself if he screwed this up. At the same time, it doesn’t seem like you’re ready to run away from him, and so perhaps making a move doesn’t sound so stupid right now. 
“Or,” he starts, and lets his eyes glide down to your lips for a moment to test the waters. You don’t scream in fear, and he takes it as a good sign. “I’m gonna have to make you.”
You giggle. “Yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that, big boy?” 
He feels his stomach turning upside down, squeezed by some invisible force and he has to remind himself to breathe. Is he really going through with this? Don’t start something you can’t end, Soonyoung would probably tell him. For once listening to his advice seems reasonable. 
“Like this.”
And before he can even think of backing out, he brings the palms of his hands to cup your face and leans down, placing his lips against yours. 
Taken aback, you let out a startled noise, eyes growing wide. He hesitates upon seeing your reaction, about to pull away when you finally kiss him back, tongue swiping over his lower lip ever so slightly. 
A groan. Then, he’s bringing his hand to the back of your head and pulling you towards him, kissing you until your head starts to spin, and kissing you through that, too. 
Your arms hold onto his shoulders for support, cheek leaning into his touch. Your noses touch clumsily; teeth clash when you open your mouth to let him explore it. Still, it feels like heaven and you can’t bring yourself to pull away for a breath. 
Wonwoo, though, the more sensible one of you two, pulls back after a while, a smile on his lips and breath ragged.  
You look at him — waiting for him to pick up where he left off, but he doesn’t move.
“That’s it?” you ask, and for a brief moment, all color drains from Wonwoo’s face. Did you not like it? Did he do something wrong?
“What do you mean?”
“You’re just going to leave me hanging like that?”
Your lip pulled between your teeth, you look at home expectantly, heart still hammering against your ribs. Truly, it’s not just about wanting more – though that plays a part in it, too – it’s also about whether this was a one-time-thing.
“Was it not enough for you?” he asks, tilting his head to the side after he’s calmed his racing heart. 
“Considering I’ve been waiting for this, like, a month,” you say. “not really, no.”
He smiles down on you — that same smile that makes you weak in the knees, and you know there’s no turning back now. Not that there ever was. 
“I think you’re a bit greedy,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver in anticipation. “I’ve been waiting for half a year, and yet, I still have some self control left.”
“I never had any in the first place.”
And with that, you pull him close for another kiss. 
He doesn’t protest, opening his mouth and sucking on your tongue. His hands move down to your waist this time, pulling your body flush against his. You’ve never experienced being in such close proximity with him, and yet, you don’t feel all that nervous. It all slips away with his soft touches. 
Your hands in his hair — it feels foreign, but he likes that feeling, gets drunk on it. But it’s some kind of reversed intoxication; he doesn’t feel faint; if anything, he’s feeling more sober than ever before as he bathes in your taste, your scent, you. This must be what love feels like, he thinks. This must be it, or else he’s certain he’ll never know love. If this isn’t it, he doesn’t want to know love. 
He hopes you’re at least feeling a fraction of what he’s feeling as he pushes you gently against the wall, hands roaming your body. You do the same, holding onto him like he’s your lifeline, tugging at the strands of hair available to you. 
So caught up in this feeling of bliss, you don’t even notice how you’re not alone with Wonwoo anymore until you hear laughter from a group of bypassing students. 
“Get a room,” someone says and you pull away from Wonwoo immediately, face hot with embarrassment.
He doesn’t appear shaken, though — rather, you glimpse the shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he urges the students to leave. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s smiling about, his fingers close around your wrist and he pulls you along the hallway. He’s all rushed steps until you reach the nearest classroom that turns out to be empty, and he walks inside, dragging you with him. 
Upon closing the door behind him, Wonwoo drags you into his chest. You look up at him, his inquiring gaze that asks for permission, and smile.
“Are you sure?” he asks and your grin turns teasing. 
“Sure about what, Woo?” 
He tongues his cheek, unsure of what to say. You’re just plain teasing him – that much is obvious – so he supposes he can give the same energy back. 
“Sure that you want me to fuck you.”
You’re taken aback, though perhaps you shouldn’t be, considering how you set yourself up for this with your question. Still, your breath catches in your throat and your hand holds onto one of the nearby desks for stability as you face him. Wonwoo looks different now, to some extent; maybe it’s the lighting that gives his eyes a different glow, or maybe it’s how the air has suddenly become swollen with tension. 
Whatever the cause, it excites you to no end, the way he’s looking at you when you take his hand in yours. Like you’re the only thing that matters. 
“Yeah,” you say finally. “Yeah, I’m sure.”
At that, he pulls you impossibly closer. He takes off his glasses in a manner that you in a drunken state would’ve most likely called seductive, and throws them away somewhere you can’t see, too busy kissing him back when his lips crash into yours for the nth time today. He kisses you so hard it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and all thoughts out of your brain. 
Mouth open, you let his tongue explore it and simultaneously, you allow him to walk you further into the classroom, until the back of your thighs hit one of the desks. Standing between your legs, he pushes your shirt up so his fingers can graze the bare skin underneath, and you sigh in content. 
Before you know it, he’s pulling away to peel off your shirt and bra, leaving you bare in front of him.
“You’re beautiful, you know,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours again.
You smile into the kiss, goosebumps spreading over your skin with the touches of his fingers that glide further up your thigh, until they slip under your skirt. Knuckles running over your soaked panties, he bites your lip and you let out a delighted moan. 
“You’re so wet,” he comments as he slips a finger under your panties, running it through your folds. You can already feel another flood of arousal approaching just because of his words. “Won’t even need to prep you, huh?”
You desperately shake your head no, and he chuckles.
He lays his palm flat against your clit and you squirm until he retracts it. Playfulness in his gaze, he smears your arousal all over your cunt, ignoring your whines. This takes him at least half a minute before he finally – upon hearing you whimper his name in a way that makes his pants a whole lot tighter all of a sudden – gives in and slides one of his fingers into your pussy. 
You throw your head back with a whimper, holding onto his shoulder as he starts pumping it in and out of you, noises caused by the movement filling the air. 
“Oh my god,” you breathe as he adds another one, your cunt tightening around his digits endlessly. 
He smiles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder which is an immense contrast to how he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that one spot that makes your toes curl. He plunges his digits in and out of your hole as his thumb circles your clit, until you’re moaning loudly — despite how little time has really passed. 
It’s in utter shock that you watch him retract his hand completely, sucking the arousal from his fingers with a smile. 
“Wha–” is all you manage to say before he flips you over, bending you over the desk. 
You’re painfully aware of how bare you are in front of him — your naked cunt on display, because your skirt doesn’t do much to cover anything at all, and your tits pressed against the wood of the desk. Plus the fact that the locked door won’t do much good if someone is to have class in this room next period. Which would be in about thirty minutes. 
Not that you care. Or, essentially, you do care, but now it doesn’t really matter — besides, you’re certain that Wonwoo would’ve managed to come up with some sort of excuse had you been forced to open the door for some frustrated professor. 
Amidst your thoughts, you almost fail to hear the sound of Wonwoo unclasping his belt. Almost. But when you do hear it, something turns pleasantly in your stomach. 
“You gonna be good for me and stay quiet?” Wonwoo asks and you feel his hands move to hold your hips, cock positioned at your entrance. 
You mumble something in affirmation, something you’re not even sure you can hear yourself, and spread your legs to urge him on. You feel his cock prod at your soaked cunt, run through your folds languidly; again and again, until you’re whining his name in protest. 
He only chuckles at your behavior, and asks, albeit teasingly, “What did you say?”
Gathering your thoughts, you try your best to ignore the way he’s dragging his dick over your pussy, occasionally rubbing over your clit. 
“Yes, I’ll be good for you, Wonwoo.”
Pleased with this response, he finally enters you — cock stretching you open and making you cry out, holding onto the desk for support. He’s big, you realize, tears prodding at your eyes as he bottoms out. 
“Yeah? Gonna be my good girl?” 
You nod and nod, fingers turning white from how you’re gripping the wooden desk once he starts moving — in languid strokes, he manages to turn your moans louder and louder. 
His hands hold onto your hips, pushing them against him so you’re further impaled on his cock with each thrust, and you swear you feel him all the way in your stomach. It’s a good feeling, one you can barely register fully with the way your mind’s gone hazy. 
You hardly notice it when one of his hands lets go of your hips and comes up to your lips, fingers tapping at your chin as a signal to open your mouth. When you do, he slips two digits inside and you suck on them obediently, tightening around his cock. 
Wonwoo smiles.
“Thought I told you to be quiet, baby.”
In all honesty, he loves the nosies you’re making, but he can’t risk someone starting to bang on the door before he’s got you falling apart completely. Besides, the sight of you sucking on his fingers is just as pleasing; just as effective in making his cock twitch in your cunt. 
Your walls suck him in perfectly, the sound of him gliding in and out of your pussy loud in the empty classroom. His thrusts grow gradually harder; the desk starts moving in rhythm with them, and you can’t help letting out moans and whimpers that his digits in your mouth do a poor job of concealing. 
He realizes this, and decides on removing his fingers so they can grab at your hair instead, pulling your back closer to his chest. Your tits bounce with his movements, and he plays with them briefly, groaning as your pussy clamps down on him especially hard at that, but then his hand moves between your legs to tend to your clit. 
He rubs it in circles, granting you an occasional pinch or slap that makes you cry out, and you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. 
“Feels so good, Wonwoo,” you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks as his fingers abuse your swollen clit. 
“I know, baby.”
Barely coherent, you beg him not to stop, and he wonders whatever even prompted you to think that he might want to stop. He only fucks into you harder, hand on your hips to steady the thrusts that bring you closer and closer to coming. 
“Wonwoo,” you say. “So close.”
“Yeah? Gonna come for me, baby? Gonna come all over my cock like a slut?”
You nod, though he probably doesn't see, and he pulls you even closer, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sight in front of him. And to think he could’ve had this earlier had he taken the chance. You in the shortest skirt he’s ever seen, moaning his name like you don’t care if anyone hears — he honestly thinks he might be in heaven. 
“Good girl,” he groans, and that’s what sends you over the edge, your pussy clamping down on his cock as you reach your orgasm. “Good fucking girl.”
He comes less than five seconds later, buried deep inside of you as his cum coats your walls. You whimper at the overstimulation of his last thrusts, collapsing on top of the desk when he pulls out. 
He’s careful not to hurt you, but you still wince slightly, which prompts him to ask you if you’re okay.
“Never better,” you reply, and as soon as you say it, you realize it’s true. 
Wonwoo smiles. He helps you clean up – repeatedly apologizing that he’s wiping you clean with the paper by the classroom sink, even though you tell him it’s fine – and puts his glasses on again. It kind of makes you wish he’d never taken them off, but there’s no way you’re telling him that. Your opinion about his beauty is something you’ll keep to yourself for now. 
You get ready to leave just as someone knocks on the door, and Wonwoo opens it for a very flustered professor that tells you he’s sorry for interrupting. Wonwoo tries telling him it’s not like that – though it definitely is like that, and the blush coating his cheeks does nothing to hide it – and finally, you’re in the hallway, free. 
“Poor guy,” you comment, a smile playing on your lips.
Wonwoo sighs. “Tell me about it. And here I was, thinking we’d gotten lucky.”
“I think we did get lucky, though.”
You say this without thinking it through, but from the way Wonwoo’s eyes light up, you’re glad you didn’t. 
Suddenly, the doors to all classrooms in the hallway open and out come tired students, marking the start of the next period. Which you’re supposed to spend in biology.
You sigh, and Wonwoo seems to get it, because he tells you to leave for class. 
“By the way, Y/N,” Wonwoo says just as you’re about to leave. Something in his gaze tells you this isn’t just a ‘by the way’ thing. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m really in love with you. And I’d like you to be my girlfriend.”
“Well, you’re in luck, mister,” you kiss his jaw with a grin. “Because it so happens that I’m in love with you, too. And I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
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