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hoshigray · 7 months

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𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”

“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh.

A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year.

But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.

Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement…

“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”

And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?”

That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive.

“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”

“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.

However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”

“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer.

Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”

No words, only tapping keys.

“Y/n?”

The keys become louder.

“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?”

Louder.

“Y/n!!”

A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.

The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”

You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.

“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”

“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”

You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?”

“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”

You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”

“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”

“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.”

You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…

After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry.

“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty.

“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?”

“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”

“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…

Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”

“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”

The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.

“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.

"I know you are."

"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”

A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.”

No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”

You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”

“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”

“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”

You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.

“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.

“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“

“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”

“…….Which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“

“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”

Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”

“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”

Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye.

You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets. Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.

….Three Hours Later….

The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed.

Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up.

The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.

What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?

“Ah, look who’s awake.”

You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.

Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!

Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.”

A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”

“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.”

Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further.

“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”

He? Wait, wait, we??

The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.

“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?”

You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”

It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.

“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.”

You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?”

The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?

“…Yes, I do.”

“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”

Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”

“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”

“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”

He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.”

The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”

“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.

“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”

You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”

Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.”

“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.”

So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life!

You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!

“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.”

Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!

“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”

“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.”

Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!”

Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.

“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”

Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going.

As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.

So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night.

Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can.

“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”

You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck.

Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you.

“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished.

He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like.

Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”

“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…

He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.”

Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt.

It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”

“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”

“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“

“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock.

And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!

“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment.

Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”

When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!

“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!

…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.

“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.”

With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time.

It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!

“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”

Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.

“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”

You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…

Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?

You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.

A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body.

And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.

Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡

Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?

Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened.

You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…

However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents.

And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.

Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.

SR + TF

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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myname-isnia · 1 year

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I love my dad’s SIL to pieces so whenever I come over on the weekends I end up staying until really late, like 11 pm, just chatting and whatever. And when it’s time to leave she’s always like “Will you be alright getting home?” and I know it’s a valid concern because... you know, teenage girl walking alone at night and all that, but honestly? After walking alone at night to my aunt’s house when I still lived with her, I’m scared of nothing

#for context: aunt lives on the city outskirts #to the point that after taking the metro from the city center you have to take a bus and then walk half a kilometre from the bus stop #and a few times it was really late when I was coming home #okay I say really late but it was autumn so it got dark by 8 #once on my birthday and another from my grandma’s place I think #irrelevant #anyways #the metro was fine the bus was fine #but the walk... oh that walk #no street lamps no people no places that are open late #just a long dark road lined with communal housing #and abandoned run down buildings #and look #I don’t have anything against communal housing #or the people that live there #but the stories my aunt and uncle told about the contingent of those places ended up getting to my head #okay? okay #so I’d walk along that creepy as shit road jumping at every noise and shadow #and sprint the second I was up the driveway to the apartment building #only feeling safe once I said good evening to the administrator lady #the worst part is #during the day I even had the balls to cut through the yards and parking lots of said communal housing #and walk the dogs on my own in a secluded field #and those dogs are pugs so they couldn’t have even done anything if something happened #holy shit I was fearless #now I live in a well lit populated area and the walk home from my dad’s SIL is two blocks up the street with no turns #my point is #I survived walking alone to my aunt’s in the dark #I can survive two blocks surrounded my street lights and 24 hour establishments

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 4 months

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what friends do | f. odair

masterlist

summary: you were a simple town girl. finnick odair was the crown jewel of panem. both of you needed an escape and found it at a secluded beach just outside district four. these were three ingredients that created a year-long friendship. but were friends supposed to have… impure thoughts about one another? you weren’t so sure.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: smut, wayyy too much detail, dirty thoughts, friends-to-lovers, mild angst, mostly readers pov, pre-rebellion, HEAVY dirty talk, fingering, unprotected p in v (big no no), multiple orgasms, so much pining, creampie, cock-warming

notes: i’m so sorry this took me so long. life has been up my ass lately and, as y’all know, i’m a slow writer. but thank you sm to everyone who patiently stuck around, i love y’all <3 this was supposed to be a short smut fic but um, apparently not. anyway, this has taken long enough to come out so imma stop rambling. ENJOY <3

word count: 11.7k

Mid-Autumn was closely approaching District Four.

Harvest in the fishing industry was at its peak and the docks were chock-full with boats bringing in their plentiful catches. The town centre was a bustling scene, crowded with people selling produce and trading for food to bring home to their family's kitchen table.

Last year's autumn harvest was the same picture—overflow, hustle, commotion; chaos like this was something you never came to enjoy. So, it was also around this time last year that you had decided to set off in search of the perfect location away from the rest of society. A place where you could be at peace, where you could forget the disastrous world you lived in.

District Four was home to many popular beaches, but the one you discovered was uninhabited, isolated, found after an hour-or-so-long trek through overgrown dirt pathways and a thicket of sea-grape and palm trees. A true paradise away from society. Or so you had thought in the first few weeks.

You weren't too sure when he had started showing up or how he had even discovered the beach.

However, one evening, as you were seated in the sand watching the sunset on the darkening horizon, you noticed a dark figure diving and surfacing in the flat, glimmering water. Their movements were so poised and fluid like the ocean was something they had conquered. You guessed it to be a dolphin or shark because there was no way a human being could move so gracefully.

But then the figure started wading to shore, and the next thing you knew, they were standing on two legs and exiting the water. You knew then that you had guessed wrong. The sun behind him obscured the bronze of his hair and the swirling lukewarm sea that pooled around his pupils. All you could see was the outline of his tall broad figure as he hiked through the sand toward you.

Fear had told you to bolt from the approaching stranger. You were in the middle of nowhere—it was the perfect place to be murdered or kidnapped. But something else, some deep and tangible instinct, also told you to stay.

"Didn't realise I had a captive audience," thestranger spoke, droplets of gleaming water sliding off his body and into the sand as he stood a few feet away.

Taken by surprise, you fumbled over your words trying to form a sentence in response. "I wasn't—I didn't—"

"Easy, honey," he chuckled. The sound was so warm and pleasant that it almost alleviated the slight chill in the air. "Just pulling your leg."

Your mouth formed a small circle. "Right," you said, gaze locked on the golden sand in embarrassment. "I, uh, didn't think anyone else knew about this place."

To be honest, you were pretty sure it was a restricted area. Probably the reason it was so isolated. If a Capitol official found you, the consequences would most likely involve your tongue, a scalpel, and a hell of a lot of pain. All for a wanting a little peace and quiet.

"Neither did I," the man said. "I only come every now and then. Need an escape from the constant buzz back home. Time for myself, you know?"

"Yeah." You smiled, feeling the stranger's words resonate in your soul. "Yeah, I do know."

You thought you saw the corners of his lips curve into a smile, but the shadows on his face were so prominent that you couldn't tell.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked.

Well... if he were going to murder you, he would have done it already. So, you nodded. Sometimes you questioned your survival instincts. Or lack thereof.

He didn't leave much space as he sat beside you. Only an inch or two, meaning you could feel the humidity of body heat and salt water emit from his skin. Even sitting down, he was still quite tall compared to you, but that wasn't what caused your heart to drop into your stomach.

The setting sun, which no longer disguised his face with shadows, now illuminated his entire figure and revealed his identity. His hair was a mess of wet wavy strands, the colour alight like a pale fire beneath the sun's orange radiance. His skin was sun-kissed, no doubt from days he had spent perfecting his swimming abilities. And those dimples... wow.

He was gorgeous. A man sculpted by the gods of beauty, just like everyone in Panem had depicted him to be. Even his sea-green eyes were as striking as everyone said.

Finnick Odair.

The man who was crowned victor of the sixty-fifth Hunger Games at fourteen. Who trapped multiple tributes at once in a net and killed them one by one with his famed trident. A killer.

The man whose reputation in the Capitol was known nationwide. A proud womanizer.

That was what everyone made him out to be.

Only, in the brief interaction you shared with him, he seemed like quite the opposite. He radiated effortless charm and warmth, but not in the arrogant way the media had portrayed him. Then again, did the media ever accurately portray the truth of anything?

It was then that you determined it didn't really matter who people said he was or what he had done. He was a human being—just like you. He deserved a chance.

His pink lips stretched into a knee-weakening smile; you were grateful that you were sitting down.

"I'm Finnick, by the way."

The both of you knew he didn't need to introduce himself. The whole of Panem knew his name and face. Though the fact that he humbly did so anyway made you like him the tiniest bit more.

You returned his smile with one of your own and introduced yourself.

Time passed and the sun had set; the moon had risen, but you both remained sitting side-by-side in the sand. Conversation flowed so naturally between the two of you that it was difficult for you to remember that stopping and getting some air into your lungs was an important factor in keeping a conversation going... as well as keeping you alive.

You told him about yourself as he did himself—some things that were meant to remain secrets, some things that seemed too strange to tell anyone else.

At some point, he had offered to walk you back to your house. The trek was over an hour long but neither of you seemed to care. The time flew by.

When you were standing at your front door and he was gazing up at you from the bottom of the steps, you both promised to meet again the next day. And you did.

As you did the day after that... and the day after that... and the day after that...

**********

As soon as the nights carried that familiar chill and the town congested with markets and fervent buyers, you knew mid-autumn had made its return. This meant most of your evenings were spent at a certain secret beach with a certain District Four victor.

Having already finished his pre-sunset swim, Finnick was sitting beside you, fingers weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath you. A couple of weeks after you had first met, he had shown up one day holding it all rolled up in hand.

"Made this for you to sit on," he had said with a proud smile. "Took nearly all night and earned me a few good finger cramps, but I think it was worth it."

Pinpointing the exact moment your attraction to him first formed was tricky. However, that gesture was one your mind returned to often. That little palm-leaf mat, the time and effort he put into making it, was scored on your heart.

Finnick was very much a gentleman.

He would always offer you a hand when standing up and whenever you walked back through the overgrown seaside forest. Sometimes he picked fruits for you such as sea grapes and mangos or would climb one of the palms and knock down a few coconuts. One thing he always, always did wasmake sure you got home safe; he never let you out of his sight until you were safe inside your front door.

All those gestures, big and small, added up. Soon enough, Finnick Odair had infiltrated your heart and consumed all your thoughts. You saw his sea-green eyes staring back at you whenever you gazed out at the ocean by your house. Felt the ghost of his hands on yours whenever you picked a grape from the kitchen fruit bowl. Heard his voice calling out your name in your most vivid of dreams.

But there was more to it than innocent adoration.

The guilt came when your gaze started lingering on his body a little too long whenever he left the water at the beach. Shimmering droplets would glide down his beautifully tanned skin; his arm muscles would flex as his fingers raked back his dripping wet hair. It wasn't yourfault he was the walking definition of perfection.

Unholy was the closest word to describe the filthy thoughts that had perverted your imagination. What started as endearing daydreams soon became fantasies that had you seeking relief between your thighs late at night. Your thoughts went wild whenever he dropped you off at your house. It took everything in you not to invite him inside and ask him to fuck you senseless against the front door.

All you had to do was ask. You knew he would say yes.

A year is a long time to know someone. A long time for feelings to grow. It also serves as a lot of time for things to happen between two people—things that linger in your mind even months after they have happened.

Like the times he would walk by you and teasingly whisper something provocative in your ear, then disappear for an hour of swimming, leaving you all hot and flustered in the sand. Neither of you would acknowledge it when he returned. Or when conversations took such a flirtatious turn, the tension only dissipated when houses were separating you at the end of the night.

But that's just what friends do, right? They tease and banter?

Maybe.

However, not all things could be chalked up to being just friends.

Another thing about Finnick's eyes was that they were transparent. You saw how helplessly they clung to you the days you stripped to your underwear and joined him in the water. He had this sort of reaction that turned his eyes into a dark violent sea, like you were some divine temptation planted to test the strength of his resolve.

Sometimes he could resist. Other days it was obvious he couldn't help but reach out and touch.

He would try to be subtle about it. Hands holding yours a little longer than necessary when he helped you stand up. Sitting too closely beside you so that your arms and legs would graze against each other. Brushing off pieces of seaweed that would stick to the dip of your waist and then constantly using the same excuse just to feel the heat of your soft skin.

There was one interaction, though, that you fell asleep to the thought of every night. It was a moment when things almost went too far; an interaction friends definitely did not share.

You could remember it clear a day. Hell, you could still feel it clear as day.

It was a hot summer evening. Both you and Finnick were at the beach and swimming in the water since being in the muggy coastal heat for more than five minutes was parallel to roasting in a thousand-degree sauna.

You were about twenty meters offshore, bobbing beside Finnick as he dived to collect various seashells. That boy could hold his breath for an unbelievable amount of time which meant sometimes you spent minutes alone on the surface, waiting, listening to the calm waves lap eerily around you.

This is exactly how people die in shark movies, said an unwarranted voice in your mind.

As usual, a minute went by. Nothing to worry about. Then a minute turned into two and you were starting to become a little concerned. And then it was two and a half minutes and you were now panicking.

"Finnick?!" you called out, hoping he could somehow hear you from the dark depths.

Three minutes had totalled, and you were pretty certain he had drowned. Just to add to the utter dread coursing through your veins, something slimy brushed against your foot. Most likely a piece of seaweed, but you didn't make that connection at the time.

That very same moment, Finnick burst through the water's surface, only mildly breathless and pinching a small iridescent shell between his fingers.

"Look at thi—"

Before the words could leave his mouth, he found himself enveloped in your distraught embrace. Your face was buried in the crook of his neck, crying tears of relief.

Damn that stupid seashell.

He automatically secured you in his arms, concern palpable in his voice as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You pulled away, an indistinguishable combination of tears and saltwater rolling down your cheeks. Though it was hard to miss the look of distress found in your furrowed brows and trembling lips.

"Don't ever do that to me again!" you exclaimed, gripping his arms to emphasise your urgency. "You hear me?! Ever!"

Finnick's head tilted slightly, surprised by your emotional reaction. He hadn't realised he meant so much to you. The surprise faded into remorse, softening his features.

"I won't. I won't, I promise," he said sincerely. His eyes flickered over the worry lines etched on your forehead. He unconsciously brushed his thumb over the lines, hoping to draw out the anxiety with his touch, and then tucked away a strand of hair. "I'm sorry I scared you."

You took in a deep, shuddering breath in an attempt to compose yourself. A mess of emotions stirred inside you—worry, embarrassment, irritation. You were partially frustrated with Finnick for making you fear for his life. Mostly annoyed with yourself for showing such vulnerability in front of him.

"God, you're an idiot sometimes," you sighed, shaking your head.

He smirked. "Didn't think you cared so much about me."

"No, you just don't think, Finn."

He glanced off into the distance for a moment with furrowed brows. "Well, that's definitely not true," he countered, meeting your gaze again with a half-smirk. "I think about a lot of things, actually."

"Oh? Like what?" you asked, slightly annoyed. "Do tell me what the great Finnick Odair thinks about instead of his own safety."

Slowly, the smirk faded from his lips. Something new tinged the atmosphere and suddenly everything around you seemed hotter than it previously was. Not an uncomfortable or sweltering heat, but one that held an intensity that sparked the air with electricity.

You suddenly became very aware that Finnick was still holding you in his arms. You recognised the confined proximity between you and him and realised that, before this moment, your bodies had never been so close.

Your legs were curled around his hips, pelvis pressed firmly against his. The position of his hands, which were keeping you afloat, was bordering on inappropriate but would only be deemed as such if you cared. Which you didn't. You liked it—having his hands on you.

One thing you couldn't ignore was the flickering of his gaze. How his eyes kept dropping to your lips. How they blatantly revealed a long-awaited confession that words just couldn't capture. Still, you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted to hear the purr in his voice as he told you.

Then he was leaning in. You weren't sure whether it was on purpose or if the pure magnetism of the tension between you was drawing him closer. Regardless, you started to lean in closer too, eyes drooping as you focused on his mouth.

And before the short distance between your lips and his became immeasurable, you whispered, "Tell me, Finn."

The hands keeping you afloat trailed up and down your back restlessly as Finnick forced a tense exhale through his nose. He seemed to be wrestling with thoughts. You waited in anticipation, and right when it seemed like he was going to make a move—

"I think..."

—you were interrupted. By no less than a pod of dolphins as they leapt from the water, causing you and Finnick to jolt from each other's embrace.

The rest of that evening was not worth mentioning. Not because you had forgotten what happened, but because the sheer awkwardness between you and Finnick afterwards was so torturous that you wanted to keep the memory squashed in the recesses of your mind. Neither of you acknowledged what happened. Finnick still walked you home, but it was done so in agonising silence.

Surprisingly, you both returned to the beach the next day. You hadn't expected him to be his usual upbeat self, but he was. So, in turn, you too acted like the previous day was erased from history. But your friendship with him was never the same.

Flirty conversations no longer felt like a joke; they now had a deeper meaning. Fleeting touches caused full-body goosebumps that didn't happen before. There was so much unresolved tension, and it was painfully thick. Inescapable.

So, as Finnick sat beside you present-day, weaving dried palm leaves into the mat beneath your bodies, you couldn't help but notice the transparency of your body language and his. The gap between you both was comparable to the size of a pearl and even though neither of you acknowledged it, you kept catching each other stealing quick glances every half-minute or so.

When you were sure he wasn't looking, you found your gaze drawn to his fingers. They were sturdy, yet nimble; curling and manoeuvring in ways that had your face feeling hotter than the heat of any sunburn or warm summer's day. This heat was beneath your skin. Spreading through your limbs in little tendrils and wrapping around your nerves. A dip in the salty sea wouldn't cool you down nor would a gulp of cold fresh water.

As you stared at his hands, you knew only the source of the sensation could offer reprieve. But that wouldn't happen, so there you burned.

The fact that he was shirtless and that his hair was a gorgeous mess of damp bronze curls helped not one bit with taming the consuming desire inside you. God, you were a mess yourself.

You sighed.

The sun, glowing intensely with a divine orange, was beginning its descent on the horizon. Your feet were buried beneath the soft sand, trying to retain some warmth as a slight breeze blew against your exposed skin.

Wearing a short sundress probably wasn't the most practical idea. Embarrassing as it was to admit, practicality wasn't what was going through your mind when you decided to wear it... Someone—Something else was.

"Something on your mind?" Finnick asked suddenly.

Your heart fumbled in your chest, terrified that he had somehow heard your thoughts. "Sorry?"

"You sighed," he said, turning his head to look at you. "Or am I just getting so old that I'm already starting to hear things?"

With relief of his lack of mind-reading abilities, you laughed softly. "You're definitely getting a bit old, Finn," you teased. "Any nursing homes you've been considering?"

"I heard retirement by the sea has its perks," he quipped, subtle dimples present as he returned to his weaving. "Although, I will need someone to make sure I don't fall asleep while swimming and get carried out by the tide. What d'you say, sweetheart? Up for becoming my personal lifeguard?"

Absolutely. "Depends. Will you force me to wear one of those awful flowery swimming caps with a matching tankini?"

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "I'm thinking more like those little red bodysuits. You know, the ones that zip open down the front?"

You reprimanded him by pushing his shoulder, wearing a betraying smile. "Very charming."

"I just think red's your colour, that's all," he laughed.

Your stomach fluttered. You knew he was teasing you; teasing was basically the foundation of your... friendship. Deep down, you knew there was also some truth behind his words. A truth that was as electrifying as it was upsetting—how long were you both going to keep up with this whole 'friends' charade? Could you handle it if the answer was forever?

Best not to think about it. For your sanity's sake.

Finnick finally settled into a comfortable position with his forearms locked around his bent knees, apparently having decided to continue his mat-weaving another time. He had been extending it bit by bit ever since he first made it for you. At this point, you were sure he was attempting to cover the entire beach. For now, it was only big enough for two people to lie down on.

Sounds pretty convenient, came an abrupt thought.

And then you fell down yet another rabbit hole of depraved daydreams... A pair of hands interlocking your own above your head. Hot lips pressing kisses to your neck. Tongue gliding up the sensitive skin of your jugular. Your fingers tugging at bronze curls between your thighs.

You were sick. Diseased with immorality. Finnick was your friend. If not your best friend. You're not supposed to fantasise about fucking your best friend.

"Thinking about anyone in particular?"

You almost choked on your saliva. "W—What?"

How did he keep doing that?

Finnick seemed to find joy in your perplexity. It was written all over his face. God, those fucking dimples. "You've been completely still for nearly five minutes and your legs are covered in goosebumps," he pointed out. "Hence the question: who are you thinking about?"

As you looked down, you found that your skin was in fact riddled with goosebumps. It didn't occur to you then that the only reason he could have noticed was if he was staring at your legs in the first place. It also didn't occur to you that Finnick obviously had the very same debauched thoughts running through his own mind.

Why did you have to wear such a revealing dress? He already struggled enough with resisting you at the best of times.

If you had been paying attention, a simple glance in his direction would have revealed how his ears were pink and his pupils were dilated. More importantly, you would have seen his legs constantly shifting to ease the discomfort tenting his pants. Fortunately, he had mastered the art of winding himself down in a short amount of time.

Unfortunately for you, that ability was not within your skill set.

You scoffed. "In case you haven't noticed, Finnick—it's autumn," you said, a quick snappy lilt in your tone. "I know you've got some weird internal space heater built into you, but normal people tend to have a reaction to the cold."

Well, it's a good thing you didn't sound defensive...

Finnick raised an eyebrow at you, displaying a puzzled half-smirk that spoke a thousand words.

You lowered your head in embarrassment, grinning sheepishly. "Sorry," you murmured. "I just, uh, don't really like the cold."

"Who could've guessed."

Despite serving as an excuse, it wasn't entirely untrue. You really did dislike the cold. And it was now that you seriously regretted your choice of sparse attire. The breeze kept blowing up the dress's skirt, threatening to expose your dignity to the world. Or more accurately, to Finnick. Thankfully, you had decided to wear a pair of delicate lace underwear that morning instead of old granny panties.

Nevertheless, now that it was on your mind, you couldn't think about anything but the cold gusts of wind blowing against you. Chills ran over your skin and you were shaking like a leaf.

Finnick, being the gentleman that he was, scanned the surrounding area for anything he could use to keep you warm. He would've given you his shirt had it not been crumpled in a ball of wet sand on the ground.

There was nothing else of use. Nothing except a single apprehensive idea sitting in the forefront of his mind. It was all he had. He bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the potentially disastrous idea.

Then, after taking a silent deep breath, he finally said, "Come here then." Your eyes snapped to his. You must've looked like you had seen a ghost because his brows knitted together in confusion. "What?" he breathed out a chuckle. "I'd prefer not having to carry you home as a block of ice."

You thought about it for a moment. Was it really such a good idea after the thoughts that were just swarming in your mind? Another gust of wind blew by and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself.

"I won't bite, sweetheart. Not unless you want me to," he added.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, shut up."

With that, you slid across the mat, positioning your body, which was still facing the sunset, in front of his legs. There was a moment of hesitation. Anxiety. But before you could reconsider, Finnick wrapped a strong arm around your middle and pulled you back against his chest, situating your body between his legs.

The exhale that left your lips was instantaneous and you couldn't help but shudder at the warmth of his skin. "God," you sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden change in temperature. "How are you so warm all the time?"

"Oh, you know. Weird internal space heater."

You laughed softly, then felt Finnick's chest vibrate against your back as he joined you. His bare arms wound tighter around you, motivated by the affectionate atmosphere. Your body seemed to melt into the cocoon of warmth he provided, and a soft smile graced your lips.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, responding with a whisper, "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You could hear the smile in his voice and how intently he was trying to hide it. You wished you could have seen it. To see the sense of peace you shared. However, feeling it in the way he held you was enough.

Instead of blood, your heart now seemed to be pumping out rather odd alternatives—waves of sea-green salted ocean, iridescent seashells, smiles paired with heart-stopping dimples. How could he? How could Finnick condemn you to loving him like this? So unwaveringly; so without a hope of ever being able to return to life without him in it.

He made a mess of you. A ruin. And even with wholesome affection running through your veins, you still couldn't ignore the hazy images conjuring in your mind from the way his body was pressed firmly behind you.

How could he?

The sun had just touched the horizon, granting the sky a few more minutes of light, meaning it was almost time to head home—an upsetting reality. You weren't sure how much time had passed before your body started to ache from lack of movement.

You wiggled your toes which were buzzing like television static. The feeling started moving up your legs and you knew if you didn't stretch, you would later embarrass yourself trying to stand on dead legs. So that is what you did. You started moving.

First, you stretched out the muscles in your legs and then moved onto straightening your back against Finnick's chest, feeling the faint pops of your spine offer you relief. And then you started readjusting your position and wriggling your hips to fit more comfortably between Finnick's toned thighs. That was your first mistake.

"Stop moving."

You were taken aback by the rigid inflection in his tone. "What?" you asked, ignoring his warning and continuing your restless movements.

"Stop. Moving," Finnick repeated, sounding more strained.

His hold on you became stiff. Completely frozen.

You were confused. Everything was perfect a moment ago, and all you were doing was stretching—why was he being so weird and snappy?

In response, you exhaled sharply. "I'm just trying to get comf—"

"Fuck," he breathed out.

Your eyes widened and it was safe to say your stomach had flipped inside out.

That was the moment you finally realised your second mistake. The rigidness in his voice wasn't him being snappy with you at all. Not even close. He was just trying to prevent the pleasure he felt below from reaching his vocal cords.

But it was too late. It wouldn't have mattered if he managed to keep quiet because you could feel it now. The achingly hard length that was pressed against your backside, reaching all the way up to your tailbone.

"...Oh," you whispered.

"Yeah," Finnick said. "Oh."

Now it was your turn to freeze. Fear consumed you, similar to what you imagined having to remain motionless in front of tyrannosaurus rex to prevent from being eaten alive was like. Thanks to the damning wind, strands of your hair blew behind your shoulders, undoubtedly tickling the exposed skin of Finnick's chest. Even that minuscule movement had your heart threatening to explode with anxiety.

As per usual, panic wreaked havoc in your mind.

What do I do? Do I get up? How will we come back from this? Does he—

Finnick cleared his throat. "Uh, you still alive in there?" he chuckled nervously.

You felt minor relief enter your bloodstream upon hearing the normality in his voice. At least one of you was composed enough to act normally. Well, as normal as one could act after becoming hard due to their best friend sitting in their lap.

"Is it—" You swallowed the nerves rattling your voice "—is it because there's a girl sitting on your lap, or is it because it's me?"

That was the million-dollar question. Was his reaction simply biological? A natural response to stimulation? Or was it deeper than that? More personal.

Finnick was silent.

The rapid thumping in your chest moved to your ears, like a drumroll leading up to some grand reveal. You felt dizzy; both filled with dreadful anticipation and exhilaration. Your senses were so heightened, fuelled by an inane bout of adrenaline. You swore you could almost hear the gears turning in Finnick's mind, smell the smoke as they rotated over and over, trying to make sense of your question and form a suitable response.

Religion never played a factor in your life, but, oh, how you were zealously praying his answer would be the one you spent all your nights fantasising about. But still, he was silent.

And right when you believed he wasn't going to respond at all, his lips finally uttered that single life-changing word. "You."

Fireworks seemed to light up every nerve in your body. You.

You weren't sure what to make of your thoughts at first. The overwhelming abundance of emotion caused by a singular word was difficult to fathom. Only one sentiment stood out from the rest—and that was the fact that Finnick felt the same as you did for him.

It was no longer a speculation. It was a fact. A truth. An undeniable reality. You had both verbal and physicalproof, literally digging into your backside.

Finnick slowly, very slowly, unwound an arm from your torso, and you held your breath. His hand slid across your waist and then plastered itself over your hipbone, careful not to apply too much pressure to make you feel uncomfortable. When you felt the slight movement of his thumb gliding across your clothed skin, you exhaled the burning air in your lungs with a shaky sigh.

"Do you want me to get up?" you asked softly while staring at the sunset, although you were focused on anything but.

"Not a chance." And then he unwound the other arm, now cupping both sides of your hips with two large hands. The heat from his palm sank into your skin, sinking deeper layer by layer until it reached the rapid flow of your bloodstream. "Do you want to get up?"

You felt a pulsing sensation between your thighs that had your parted lips inhaling slow deep breaths, and you knew the only logical answer was no. So, you shook your head.

Finnick reached up to skilfully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear before placing his hand back on your hip. He then leaned down beside your ear, voice a hot, velvety whisper, "What next then, sweetheart?"

A wave of chills ran down your entire body.

What next? Another question for the ages. You had dreamt of this moment a million times over. You had pictured the unholiest, most vivid of scenarios, and yet here you were, mind blank as an empty void.

Then it hit you. Rather than acting from a pre-planned script, wouldn't it be better to just let your body act on what it naturally desired? On instinct? You took in a deep, stabilising breath and gave yourself into moment.

You slowly began turning your head to the side until, for the first time since he pulled you into his arms, your eyes flickered up and found Finnick's. His lips quirked with the ghost of a smile at the exchange, but he held it back. His jaw clenched and unclenched, muscles ticking with tension.

He was looking at you in a way you had never seen before. Or perhaps, you were just never close enough to notice, and he had always looked at you this way. There was a blazing intensity in his eyes, dark and penetrative, a bridge between yearning and total reverence. It was so enticing that you could feel your hands itching to undress yourself in front of him.

Finnick murmured your name.

"Yes?" you managed to whisper.

"Do you have any idea how long I've waited for this?"

Those words—he had stolen them from the tip of your tongue.

You couldn't find the strength to muster any profound response. So instead, you found your head tilting back and the crook of your elbow winding up and around the nape of his neck. You didn't need to guide him down; he came willingly.

His lips caught yours in a soft, warm exchange. Singular yet prolonged. Then there was a brief pause of disconnection, a calm before the storm. And with Finnick, when it rained, it poured. Suddenly, a hand was cupping the area where your jaw and neck connected, and his lips were on yours again.

There was so much more heat in this kiss. A depth that kept growing with each connection of your lips. You could hear the fervour in the breathless exhales that exited his nose, the quiet groans that slipped into your mouth. Though the same could be said for you.

You couldn't subdue the moans and meek whimpers that leaked out. Especially when his tongue slipped into your mouth and took control over your own. At this point, you couldn't even be called putty in his arms; you were pure liquid, totally and completely submissive in his embrace.

It was impossible to tell who was throbbing beneath you anymore. All you were sure of was that the pretty lace panties you had put on that morning were now soaked. Though even if he never touched you, you wouldn't have cared. Having his lips on yours, his tongue on yours, was enough. And if he kept at it long enough, you were sure it would even be enough to get you off. That's how much power Finnick had over you.

Apparently, he felt the same too. Because when you leaned further back into him and your ass pushed against the length of his erection, his fist scrunched the fabric of your dress by your hip and his lips left yours to let out a shuddering breath.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he huffed, half chuckling.

Technically, it was a suppressed moan. Either way, you swear you almost came then and there.

With one last gentle kiss, you opened your eyes, pulling away to replenish your lungs with air. Finnick's eyes were already locked on yours in a drunken haze from the taste of your lips. Your arm unwound from his neck, grazing down his broad shoulders and bicep. During so, your eyes caught on the tiny bumps and raised hair scattered across his arm.

"You've got goosebumps," you smiled, trailing your fingertips across his skin.

His gaze moved to follow your hand, wearing a boyish grin. "Would you believe me if I said I was cold?"

Your throat buzzed with a suppressed giggle. Seeing the way his body reacted to yours was incredibly motivating. Someone telling you they lusted after you could easily be spoken with deception. But having visual confirmation, witnessing a reaction that couldn't possibly be forced, was a whole different story. Finnick's body craved you.

Given that incentive, the slight trepidation still holding you back now disappeared into the back of your mind. Your fingers curled around his wrist, dragging the hand beneath your jaw down to your neck, and then down to your chest. It didn't take him too long to figure out your intentions. He overtook your influence and autonomously moved his hand to cup your breast.

You were essentially caged in his embrace. Exactly how you wanted it.

You stared ahead with relaxed eyes, watching as the sun slipped into the dark water. Night had officially blanketed District Four and, now being shielded by darkness, the stars were your only witness. Strangely enough, you felt a new sense of shamelessness.

So as Finnick kneaded your breast in his warm hand and pinched the sensitive peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger through the lace of your bra, you allowed a soft moan to escape your lips.

It was almost as if you could actually feel the smirk growing across Finnick's lips behind you. One thing you actually could feel was the twitch of his achingly hard cock beneath you.

"You like that?" he asked, definitely smirking.

"Yes," you sighed almost immediately.

If only he knew how truly euphoric you felt. If only he knew how many times you had imagined being in this exact situation. Having him touching you like this. The guilt of imagining him in such a way used to eat you up. But now that you were past the guilt, there was no shame connected to the thought of Finnick eating you up.

Fuck, he would look so perfect between your thighs—bronze curls all messed up from your pulling and tugging; sea green eyes squeezed shut as he dedicated his attention to dragging you down to the pits of hell with his tongue.

Your head fell back against his collarbone. He took this as a signal to move your hair aside and start planting hot kisses onto the curve of your shoulder. Then he trailed further across, brushing his lips across your skin until he reached the side of your neck and started sucking gently, though enough to leave behind pretty little red marks of possession.

"What about this?" he murmured against the delicate skin.

The faint taste of sea-salted air sat in the back of your throat as your breaths deepened. You felt his tongue glide partially up the length of your carotid artery, and your entire nervous system seemed to short-circuit.

"Yes,"you practically whined.

He must have found this amusing because you could feel the vibrations of his chuckle against your neck. But he wasn't finished yet. Hell, the finish line was a lifetime away regarding the things he planned on doing to you. They probably couldn't all be done in one night though, unfortunately.

You had completely forgotten about the hand still splayed on your hip. Why would you pay it any attention when it was sitting idle? Only it wasn't simply resting on your hip anymore. No. Now it was moving. Moving down.

His lips were still on your neck and he was still cupping your breast, but all you could focus on was the carnal descent of his hand. He found the hem of your dress, fingers toying with the flimsy material as one did when deciding whether or not to go through with something potentially consequential. Ultimately, he began to drag the fabric up your thighs, knuckles grazing over your soft skin until the skirt of your dress was ruched around your hips.

You sucked in a sharp breath. The vulnerability of suddenly being exposed in such a manner hit you like a tonne of bricks. This was really happening. Finnick, the Capitol's darling, District Four's golden boy, and more significant;y, your best friend, was touching you. He was kissing you. He was seeing and feeling parts of your body you had never let him see or feel before.

Naturally, this unfurling web of thoughts produced a surge of insecurity.

But, when his hand curled around your inner thigh and spread a wildfire of warmth across your skin, every thought that was previously passing through your mind disintegrated and was replaced with unadulterated yearning.

Finnick's mouth finally detached from your neck to hover beside your ear. "And this?"

He lightly kneaded your thigh to emphasise his question, dangerously close to the place that undoubtedly crossed the boundary between friend and lover.

You were speechless. The desire running through your veins was paralysing. All you could do was look, see, feel, and hope to god you didn't pass out from the shallowness of your breathing.

"Come on, sweetheart," he roused in that low, seductive purr. "Don't go quiet on me now. Use your words."

And how could you ever disobey a voice like that? It took every ounce of strength and concentration you had in you, but eventually, you managed to find your voice.

"I—" You cut yourself off with a gasp as his thumb purposefully wandered up to the edge of your underwear. Asshole. "I lie awake every night imagining us like this, Finn. You don't need permission to touch me. You've already had it for months."

Suddenly, a gentle finger was turning your chin, compelling you to meet Finnick's gaze. His eyes lacked the intensity from before and were now brimming with awe, brows knitted as if he was asking for confirmation if what you had said was truthful. And it was, painfully so.

To answer his wordless question, you leaned forward and connected your lips with his. He responded with ardency, and not long after, you could feel his hand wander up to the waistband of your panties.

He wasted not a second before dipping his hand beneath the lace material and finding that sensitive spot that had been begging for his attention.

Your lips separated from his to let out a breathy moan. "Finnick."

He simply smiled, two fingers rubbing circles around your clit. He pressed gentle coaxing kisses to your lips, and you really did try to respond, but you were never one for multitasking. Especially when the man you had fallen in love with was touching you so.

His other hand wandered across your torso, holding your waist, grazing over your stomach, tracing the length of your sternum. All very loving adorations compared to what his other hand was doing.

"I think I'm going to hell because of you," he murmured, millimetres away from your lips. Such a disconcerting thing for someone to admit, but all you could manage was a hum in response. "Every time I see you, I can feel myself getting closer and closer. You derange my thoughts, sweetheart. You corrupt them.

How am I supposed to be around you if I want to fuck you every time you say my name? And what makes it so much more impossible is that you don't even mean to make me feel this way; you just do. God, you're maddening. So sweet and maddening," he cooed, fingers picking up in pace which caused you to melt back into his chest and let out a pretty little moan. "Drives me crazy."

"And to think," you managed, "I thought you had your hands between my legs because you hated me."

Your hips were rolling lightly along with the rhythm of his fingers.

At the very same time Finnick's thighs tensed around your hips from the friction against his cock, he abruptly plunged two fingers inside you. Punishment.

The moan you let out was positively filthy.

"Such an attitude you have," he said. "Anyone would think you're completely innocent in a dress like this. But I know better than that." His fingers slid in and out, curling every time the base of his fingers bottomed out inside of you. "I know exactly why you wore it. Just like I know exactly why you wore those lace panties you pretend that I can't see whenever you bend over."

Heat crept up into your cheeks from hearing his words. You wanted to provoke him by saying 'And look where it got me'but who knew how his fingers would respond to your attitude.

"You can't do that to a man," he continued. "It's criminal."

"It's only fair, Finn," you breathed out, struggling to keep your voice level. "You ruined me."

A deep moan rumbled in his chest, though it never escaped. He couldn't break that easily. He needed to remain in control. This moment, to him, seemed like an eternity forthcoming. He needed to make the most of this moment with you, needed to show you what it was like to receive earth-shattering pleasure so that you only ever wanted to receive it from him. No one else.

Despite his obvious attempts at keeping himself in check, you could still feel his thick impatient cock twitch beneath your ass. Even through the layers of clothing between you, you could tell that he was incredibly big. So much so that it worried you a little. Only, when his fingers curled again, you forgot all about it.

The pads of his fingertips buried into your inner walls with every curl. The heel of his palm struck your clit with every thrust of his fingers and you could feel your stomach start tightening. Fuck, he was amazing at this.

It had been so long since someone had touched you like this. Well, someone that was actually good at it. Just a few minutes and Finnick was already about to make you come.

"Feels so good, so—ah—good!" you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

He reached a free hand up to your breast, lightly pinching your nipple between his fingers until you let out a gasp. At least one of you was good at multitasking.

"You gonna come?" he asked, not that he even needed an answer. He could feel the way your walls were contracting around his fingers, feel the sticky warmth of your slick leaking onto his knuckles.

You nodded fervently.

"Say please first."

"Finn," you whined in frustration.

You could hear him chuckle self-satisfyingly behind you. "Come on, baby. Sweet girls are supposed to have manners, aren't they?"

His low, husky voice almost threw you over the edge. Oh, how you would love to listen to the sound of him talking you through your orgasm. That is if he ever even let you get to that point.

Never had you ever thought you would be pleading with a man for anything, yet here you were. Though, Finnick Odair could hardly be called a man. He was so much more than that; he was bordering on divinity. And you weren't going to miss the chance of being unravelled at the hands of a divine being.

"Please, Finnick," you begged, your body literally buzzing with desperation. "Please make me come."

He pressed a kiss below your earlobe. "Since you asked so nicely."

His fingers picked up in pace. They weren't even plunging in and out anymore but were rather curling, over and over again in that electrifying spot inside you. He went hard and fast, working to bring you to your high as quickly as possible. Your moans were so unrestrained, so breathless and shallow that you started to feel the world spin around you.

Your hand flew back to hold onto his arm, nails digging into the hard muscles of his bicep. Your hips were writhing in Finnick's lap and you could hear him groan out a string of curses. He held you down by the hip to try and keep you still, then moved across to the bottom of your abdomen where he pressed down.

That is what did it for you.

You cried out as tightness spread down your stomach and pure ecstasy took control. Finnick murmured words of praise and reassurance as you rode through your high, though a lot of it didn't register in your mind. You heard only a few bits and pieces which were enough to prolong the feeling that was overwhelming your entire body.

"Taking it so well."

"That's it, sweetheart. That's it."

"Such a good girl."

As the waves of pleasure slowly began to subside, you returned to reality. The heat that had been building up inside you started melting away, leaving you in a state of relaxation. Your fingers, which previously clung onto Finnick's arm, now grazed absentmindedly across his skin. It felt like you had been sucked into a dream—a little hazy and surreal, but incredibly tranquil.

"You okay?" Finnick asked softly.

You hadn't even noticed that his fingers had left your body. He had pulled down the hem of your dress— not that your dignity really needed saving anymore—and was holding your melted figure in his arms.

"Mm," you hummed contently, eyes fixed on the view in front of you. "Warmed up."

If only you were able to see his face, his smile. Those dimples. A powerful longing to be able to see every expression known to man morph his facial features washed over you. It was a little ridiculous how attracted to him you were. Nonetheless, you indulged the desire.

You pushed yourself from his lap and pivoted to face him

You were straddling his lap before any ounce of hesitation could hold you back. Finnick circled his arms around your waist, pulling you closer into his chest. He was smiling. He was smiling and it was even more beautiful than any sunset you had ever witnessed. You concluded that you had definitely made the right choice in deciding to face him.

"Hi," you whispered.

He smiled. "Hey, stranger."

He brushed back a few pieces of hair from your face, observing the blown size of your pupils and the sultry colour of your lips. He did that—he could not get over the fact that he did that to you. Finally.

You shrunk away from his gaze, a timid smile on your lips.

Finnick tilted his head slightly. "Shy thing."

You buried your face into the side of his neck, groaning quietly in embarrassment. You could hear the perfect sound of him laughing above you. He stroked the length of your spine, somehow managing to ease the nerves from your body with a simple touch. You left a quick kiss on the warm skin of his neck and rose back up to meet his gaze.

"Feeling better?"

"Much," you replied, sheepishly. Your eyes flickered across Finnick's, hesitated, and then gestured downwards. "But... you're not." His head tilted as though he were confused as to what you were suggesting, so you leaned in closer until your lips ghosted over his. "Still need to take care of you."

A breath of warm air fanned across your face as he chuckled. He shook his head. "It's alright. I can hold off for another time."

And although the prospect of doing this again another time was downright exhilarating, you couldn't ignore the palpable heat still lingering in your lower stomach, throbbing between your thighs. You could only imagine how he must have been feeling—cock throbbing with a need for relief, though ready to deny himself the same amount of pleasure he just gave you.

You suddenly curled a hand around the back of his neck and brought him into a slow kiss. To show him he was allowed to indulge himself. That you wanted him to. You ground your hips down on his lap and felt his lips falter against yours.

You pulled back and echoed your previous words, "It's only fair, Finn."

Time seemed to pause for a moment. Your breath and his mixed with one another in a sort of hot whirlwind of anticipation. Your bodies were still. Finnick's eyes were half-lidded staring at your mouth.

Then came the explosion.

His hands were hastily tugging your sundress over your head; his lips were on yours as he reached down between your bodies to unbutton his pants. It felt like a race against time. Like if you didn't do this now, the chance would never come by again. Hell, his pants hadn't even made it off his legs before he was holding himself in his hand and you were rising to your knees, positioning yourself directly above his length.

Your lips never left his, strenuous as it was, meaning the only gauge you got of how big he was wasn't from seeing it, but from feeling it as you pulled your panties aside, guided his cock to your entrance with one hand, and felt the entire veiny length of him fill you completely as you lowered yourself onto him.

A quiet, synchronised gasp left both your lips as you enveloped him completely in wet velvety warmth. His pelvis was connected with yours and his cock was pressed right up against your cervix. So incredibly deep, you could almost feel him in your stomach.

You stayed like this for a few seconds.

"So big," you gasped against his lips.

His hands were on your back, dragging up and down. "Want to stop?"

"Never."

This was so not what friends did.

He trailed kisses from your mouth, to your jaw, and down to your neck. You were grinding sinuously back and forth, Finnick's hands now on your hips as a guide, feeling his tip bury into the sensitive walls inside you. Your head fell back with a gratified moan as he nipped your neck unforgivingly, only to soothe the spots he marked with the glide of his tongue.

At that moment, the past and future were of no significance. The idea that doing this might ruin your relationship with him afterwards didn't concern you. You didn't bother recollecting a time when you and Finnick were merely friends, nor did you ponder how you even managed to reach this point.

All you could focus on was how fucking perfect his cock felt inside of you.

The cold, which was previously a nuisance, now served as a stimulant to your nipples which were only covered by the thin unpadded material of your lace bra. They were bouncing with every movement you made, the hard peaks rubbing against Finnick's chest and creating a triangle of pleasure between them and the depravity that was happening further below.

He was so hungry in the way he kissed you. His lips were soft, but they moved with heat and determination. His tongue was supple as it pushed against yours, moving masterfully in a way you could only compare to how he swam in the ocean. A conqueror—able to bring you into submission with ease.

You pushed yourself upwards, the muscles in your thighs slightly burning as you did so, and felt his cock glide through you. He inhaled harshly through his nose when his tip almost left your wet heat, and then groaned into your mouth when your hips sunk back down, engulfing him once again.

"Shit," he almost whined as your walls clenched around him. "I fuckinglove you."

You pulled away to look him in the eyes. It was incredibly difficult for you to contemplate his words—his confession—when he was, what, eight or so inches deep inside you?

He didn't look like he regretted saying it. He was simply staring at you with raised brows pinched together in pleasure, awaiting your response as you continued your sequence of rising and sinking to fill yourself up with his cock.

"You love me?" you asked in a laboured breath. He only nodded in response. You sank fully down onto his lap, discontinuing your movements, willing him to prove his so-declared devotion. "Then show me."

He was breathing heavily and watching you through strands of sea-salted hair messily splayed across his forehead. He was so beautiful it actually kind of hurt to look at him. His eyes fell to your mouth during this brief amnesty, a decision prominent in his mind. Then he was rushing forward, crushing his lips to yours and forcing your body to lay back on the mat beneath you.

Finnick somehow managed to remain inside you as he switched your positions—him now above you as your legs were wrapped around his waist. His body pinned you down with a comfortable weight, skin warm and flush against yours.

He was overpowering and dominating, and his thrusts were laced with a sense of appropriation like he was making you his. The slow grinds of his hips were hard yet measured and so breathtakingly deep, and the gentle upwards curve of his cock made sure his tip was prodding against that swollen pleasure-inducing spot every single time.

His kisses were sensual and slow; his tongue slipping languidly into your mouth, swirling and massaging your tongue like it was made of pure silk.

You had told him what to do—now he was showing you. Finnick Odair wasn't fucking you. He was making love to you.

Your hands were on his back, fingertips leaving red marks on the curves of his shoulder blades. You moved up to his hair, scratching your nails softly into his scalp, which earned you a soft moan in your mouth. Even you could feel yourself pulsing around his cock. Everything he did, every sound and action he made, had your body yielding to him.

His hand pulled you up into him by the waist, arching your back off the palm-leaf mat so that he was thrusting more profoundly into that blissful spot inside you. He never sped up his pace. He didn't need to. He was savouring the moment as much as he could, memorising each warm ripple of your walls his cock glided over inside you, every intoxicating moan your soft lips released, the pressure of your warm supple thighs hugging his waist.

He was committing every aspect of you to memory. Inside and out.

Having that knowledge only made the moment so much more pleasurable. Knowing that he wasn't just thinking about you with his cock, but was thinking about you with his heart too.

That feeling started creeping up inside you—the blissful burn of heat pooling in your lower stomach. It made your walls flutter around him. Made you whine and moan uncontrollably into his mouth until you couldn't focus on kissing him anymore and had to pull away.

Your head fell back onto the mat, hair strewn out around you. The sounds coming out of you were pure sin. Desperate, greedy sin.

Finnick chuckled adoringly above you. "Too fucked out, sweetheart?"

He couldn't exactly talk. The second you clenched around him again, he groaned out a curse and you—the parts of your mind that were still relatively comprehensible—were sure you could feel the warmth of pre-cum ooze inside you.

"Finnick," you mewled, and he caressed the baby hairs framing your face. "Feels so good. Should—should've done this sooner."

Through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he nodded and then descended to your forehead, pressing his lips tenderly against your skin. I know, the gesture said. You felt a rush of affection flood through your body, ultimately accelerating the build-up happening inside you.

You could feel yourself teetering so impossibly close to the brink of your orgasm. The tightness inside you was so hot and overwhelming; it was a struggle for you to keep your eyes from fluttering shut and rolling back, though you willed yourself to keep them open. You had to.

Watching Finnick's face contort with pleasure as he's thrown into his own high from feeling your walls contract around him would probably be the highlight of your entire life.

"So beautiful," he cooed as he thrusted into you. "My sweet girl's gonna come, isn't she? Can feel it."

The words flew out of your mouth. "Come inside me."

"Come inside you?"

You were pretty sure he was mocking you from the devilish curve of his lips and furrow of his brows. But your lust-drunk brain didn't really care.

"Please. Wanna feel you—" Your chest heaved with each breath "—everywhere."

Finnick was so obviously trying to keep himself from giving in before you. But you could see how delirious his eyes were as they stared down at you and you heard how every low, gratified—frustratingly sexy—sound he made betrayed him. He was so close.

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he said, finally.

He managed to unhook your hands from around his back and guided them upwards, holding your wrists together above your head with one hand before he brought his other back to your waist. It was oddly romantic how he held you, given that he was fucking you like life after that night wasn't guaranteed.

And then, without warning, he was pounding into you, bottoming out completely with each thrust.

It was almost animalistic now—how you were both unable to control yourselves anymore. You were writhing beneath him, impulsively fighting against the grip he had on your wrists. And Finnick, well, he was fucking you so hard, you weren't sure if walking home that night would be a possibility.

He was a disaster of pleasured vocals, deep moans, and heavy breaths. You thanked the absolute heavens he was because it was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard in your entire life.

When your own moans started to rise in pitch, you knew you were done for. You felt so full. Stretched out to the max. Blinded by the heat that was drowning you. But your eyes managed to remain clear and locked on Finnick's the entire time, just as his were on yours.

With a fleeting glance downward, he once again placed a large hand over your abdomen and pushed down, and your back arched off the ground.

You were gone.

"Oh fuck!"

The heat, white and fiery, had consumed you. Your thighs tensed uncontrollably around Finnick, your body shaking beneath him as your insides pulsed all the way down to your stuffed entrance. White, sticky sweetness covered Finnick's cock as he continued to thrust into you, the wet sounds overpowering the waves cresting on the sands. It felt like fucking heaven.

He let out a moan, broken and breathless, and released the grip he had on your hands. In that short moment, you instantly gripped onto him, feeling his body shudder beneath your hands as his throbbing cock spurted out ropes of warmth deep inside you, the essence of both of you mixing inside your body, making you one.

You pulled him down and crushed your lips to his with a sudden intense urge to be as close to him as you could, if it were even possible to be any closer to him at that point. It felt a little spiritual, the way you practically wanted to merge your body with his. That's what having sex with someone you truly loved was like, you supposed.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, but it never lacked heat or affection. Lacking heat was impossible between you and Finnick.

A lot of time passed before either of you even contemplated pulling away from one another. Finnick was inside you for what must have been a good half hour after you had both finished. It felt close. Deeply intimate. He held you in his arms, his hands mapping out various parts of your body with unhurried measure as you lay beneath him, lazily yet affectionately making out with warm, reddened lips.

There were quiet giggles and heated words whispered between you that would have prompted another session had either of you been graced with the energy.

But it was late. The remnants of the sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon, dimming the sky to a deep dark blue, the world's only source of illumination being the stars casting their sparkling light on the rippling water.

It was a new moon.

Eventually, you ended up laying over his chest, legs strewn across his as you both faced the ocean. Your head rose and fell with each breath Finnick took and it felt unreal.

You were momentarily worried your infatuation with him had grown too out of hand and you had imagined the whole day, or perhaps, the entire time you had known him. That it was all a figment of your vivid imagination.

Then, his warm hand slid into your own, which was draped across his stomach, and you knew that this, the newfound relationship between you and Finnick, was undeniably and rapturously real.

He slowly lifted them together above your bodies, palms flat against one another. There was a notable size difference between them—his palm was large and calloused with long fingers that squared off at the tips, meanwhile, your own fist could probably fit into his palm.

Your fingers danced delicately together as you both watched from below. He traced the length of your fingers with his fingertips; followed the etches in your palm, and turned your hand to explore the protrusions of your knuckles. There was a certain gentle curiosity in his touch, similar to that of someone who was discovering the act of human connection for the first time.

"I don't know if I can walk home," you whispered.

Finnick lowered your interlocked hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles before placing them back on his stomach. "I'll carry you."

"For an entire hour?"

"I'll manage," he said, "I've got muscles."

You scoffed quietly to yourself, smiling. "Ok, big strong man."

"Says the girl who needs to be carried home."

"Well, you are kind of the one to blame for that."

You tilted your head to glance up at him and found exactly what you were expecting to see. He was wearing a proud grin, all apple cheeks and crinkled eyes. It was something you had come to adore, even though sometimes it was out of arrogance.

Your head turned to rest back on his chest. You watched as his thumb caressed slow circles over your knuckle.

"What you said before," you began, "is it true? Do you really... love me?"

The heart beating beneath your ear genuinely sounded like it skipped a beat. You imagined that was a good sign, though your nerves were still a little frayed. What if he had only said it because of the heat of the moment?

A beat went by. "I've been trying to tell you ever since I first wove the mat for you," he confessed, his voice quiet yet holding the weight of the history that made up your friendship.

There it was—the truth laid bare. Despite hearing the words, it didn't really change anything. You suspected deep down you knew the entire time; you were just too self-doubting to accept it. To accept that Finnick Odair, the crown jewel of Panem, had fallen in love with you, an ordinary girl from District Four who just so happened to meet him at a secret beach.

Although, there was a sensation you remember upon first meeting him. That instinct that had told you to stay instead of running away, as any logical human being would do upon being approached by a stranger in the middle of nowhere. That instinct, despite sounding utterly ridiculous, caused you to believe that perhaps it was fate.

Maybe you were destined to meet. Maybe it didn't matter that he was a nationwide celebrity, nor you a simple town girl. Maybe your souls were entwined from the start and, one way or another, you would have met anyway.

Maybe.

"That's a long time," you said.

He laughed. "Yeah, well, I thought you would've gotten the hint by now."

And you couldn't help but join him. You thought you were the one who was deranged out of their mind. Here Finnick was telling you he had spent an entire year trying to confess his love without you even realising.

"I'm sorry it took me so long."

"It's alright," he said, earnestly. "I'd say it worked out pretty well. I mean, look where your obliviousness got us."

You smiled. Your legs were tangled with Finnick's; his arm was holding you tightly against his bare upper body, and his fingers were lovingly tracing over yours. Yeah, you were pretty grateful for your obliviousness sometimes. A new pair of underwear might have been something to consider, though.

A silence settled between you, comfortable, peaceful. Being in Finnick's embrace almost made you forget entirely about the reality of your existence—the Games, the dominion over Panem, the chaotic environment back home. It was the reason you had set off last year in search of a place away from society.

You had now found that the escape you were looking for wasn't a place or a hidden paradise, but a person. It was Finnick.

"Finn?"

"Yeah?"

The trees and palm leaves danced in the light breeze. Waves lapped on the shore.

You angled your head back to look at Finnick and felt him pull you closer. His expression was a picture of relaxation and contentment. His eyes gazed down at you, glimmering with the reflection of scattered stars in the night sky, just like the sea in front of you.

He seemed to already know what you were going to say. Always the mind reader.

"Say it, sweetheart." The corners of his lips twitched expectantly.

Sweetheart. Oh, how could you have ever felt for him in any other way?

"I love you too."

His face broke into one of the happiest smiles you had ever seen.

...roll credits

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ellemj · 3 months

Text

Flustered: Part 2 (FINAL)

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Two-Part Fic: SMUT

Request by @aryarcharon: enemies to lovers, fuckboy!Bucky, praise kink.

Summary: You might be able to fuck away a crush but you can't fuck away an obsession.

Warnings: profanity, fuckboy!Bucky, size kink, praise kink, oral sex (female receiving), kinda threat with a belt in the bedroom but nothing happens, unprotected sex, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: I hope this meets some expectations lmao, I get nervous when the first part of a series or two-part thing gets a lot of attention. Also to the people who have randomly tipped me, BLESS YOU 🥹🖤 I actually cry a little when I get those notifs.

Fucking someone, anyone but you, is what Bucky needs tonight. It’s what he’s needed every night since he met you honestly, but especially tonight. The dangerous game that the two of you have been playing has left Bucky with a feeling similar to that of climbing Mount Everest. The longer the climb goes on, the harder it gets for him to breathe. God, it feels like his lungs are trapped at a high altitude every minute that he’s around you at this point. So, Bucky will be skipping the monthly team game night to fuck a girl he met two days ago.

He pulls his leather jacket over his arms and shoves the key to his bike in his pocket as he gives himself one last look in the mirror. The tiniest seed of doubt presents itself in his mind as he meets his own gaze in the mirror. Fucking someone else won’t fix this. Fucking someone else might put a crush out of one’s mind…but this is more than a crush. As Bucky stands there, staring at himself, the realization comes crashing in like a damn freight train running off of its rails. This is obsession.

If Bucky’s breathing can be compared to the struggle of oxygenation at a high altitude, then your breathing can be compared to taking one’s first natural breath after a successful lung transplant. Every time you say something to get under his skin, every time you watch his smirk fall away and his chest rise and fall a little faster, you suddenly feel like you’re standing outside, taking in a breath of cool, crisp autumn air. The dirty little game between the two of you is simultaneously ruining Bucky’s life and giving you life.

________________

“Hey, you’re staying for game night?” Sam’s voice rings out as Bucky steps into the main living area, where the entire team is gathered both on the couch and the nearby floor. The entire team except for you, he notices, as he scans the group.

“I have somewhere to be.” Bucky answers gruffly, coming to stand next to the end of the couch where Sam sits.

“Hot date?” Sam jokes, giving him a quick once-over. As soon as he sees the leather jacket, he knows he’s either taking the bike out to wherever he’s going, or he’s going on a mission. Sam is positive it’s the former, because if it was the latter, he’d know about it.

“Always.” Bucky says with a smirk, shoving Sam’s shoulder. As the rest of the team begins chatting amongst themselves, Bucky catches himself looking around for you. Are you out tonight? Do you have a date? Bucky’s jaw clenches as he briefly envisions you dressing up for your trainer and sitting down to have a meal with him. You had better fucking not.

“Heading out?” The unexpected sound of your voice breaks Bucky out of his moment of mental weakness and he turns around quickly, coming to face you. You must’ve been in your room, he thinks, since you came from the direction of the hallway. Of course his obsessive mind would assume that you went out with the piece of shit who thinks you’re as fragile as a damn butterfly. “That’s too bad, I was really looking forward to kicking your ass tonight.”

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart.” Bucky says calmly, staring into your eyes as the room grows quiet.

“But I thought—” Sam begins repeating Bucky’s earlier claim that he had somewhere to be, but he’s quickly cut off by Bucky shooting him a look that says something along the lines of say one more word and watch what happens. “Oh, right, your date is tomorrow night, not tonight.” Sam recovers with a lie. After one look at you, Bucky abandoned his plan to fuck away his feelings. You brush past him to take a seat on the floor by the coffee table, and as your arm collides with the fabric of his leather jacket, all he can think about is the image of a freight train careening off the rails and going up in a fiery blaze. Obsession. His obsession with you is going to be his undoing, he’s sure of it.

______

The team game night was significantly more intense than normal with both you and Bucky being present. Well, it wasn’t just the fact that you were both in attendance for once. It was the fact that you were both so set on showing one another up. The entire night basically turned into a cut-throat duel, with cards and game pieces instead of knives and guns.

You stand in the living area alone now, stacking up all of the game boxes on the coffee table as you listen to the soft sound of the kitchen faucet running. After all of your back and forth arguing and shit-giving, you and Bucky were forced to take the cleanup duty yourselves, as restitution. You thought Bucky would continue on with the act once everyone went their separate ways for bed, but you were utterly surprised when he offered to take the kitchen cleanup and leave you only to handle the games. It was as if whatever competitive, teasing switch he had that had been turned on all night was suddenly turned off once he had you alone.

Bucky rinses off the last dish in the sink, watching intently as the suds run down his vibranium fingers and into the drain. With every dish he washed, he imagined his obsession going down the drain with the suds. It was almost therapeutic, until he sensed you stepping into the kitchen behind him. He stiffened instantly as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

You stand still as Bucky turns off the faucet and sets the final clean dish in the drying rack. You don’t really know why you decided to approach him. You could’ve gone to bed once you finished putting the games away, but your feet carried you in the opposite direction. So, now here you are, staring at the defined muscles of his back through his taut shirt.

“What’s up with you?” You ask quietly, leaning back against the island a couple of feet behind Bucky. You realize you’re in similar positions as the night you figured out that he has a size kink, except you’ve switched places.

“What do you mean?” He answers your question with his own as he towels his hands dry and turns around to mirror your position. He leans back against the front of the sink as he looks you over carefully. You’re suddenly entranced by the way he meticulously dries in every little crevice of his vibranium arm, as if he’s done it thoroughly a thousand times before, as if it’s a routine. When he notices you staring at the action, that familiar smirk returns to his face. “You don’t know how to act around me when I’m not fucking around with you, do you?” He asks in a near condescending tone. You narrow your eyes as you raise them to meet his gaze. When you don’t say anything in response, Bucky continues his work with the towel, warring within himself. He knows he shouldn’t keep going like this. He should leave right now and spend the night with any other woman underneath him so he can bury whatever it is that he feels about you. But the next words leave his lips anyway. “You miss it, don’t you? You can’t stand not having my attention, even for five minutes.”

“Bullshit. You’re too damn cocky for your own good.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. You don’t make a move to leave the kitchen, and Bucky takes note of that.

“And you’re a tease. Which is worse?” Bucky asks. He begins carefully folding the towel, slower than you’ve ever seen him do anything. You’re mesmerized by his hands.

“I’m not a tease.”

“Bullshit.” Bucky calls out, setting the towel on the countertop beside him.

“I’m not.”

Bucky exhales slowly as he pushes away from the sink and straightens up before you. The look he gives you sends an icy shiver down your spine.

“Good girls don’t lie.”

______

To you, the next two minutes were a blur. The only thing that registered in your mind was a brief, fleeting thought of not giving a fuck and punching Bucky in his smug face. Your legs had the right idea when they rushed forward, carrying you straight toward him, but the rest of your body betrayed you and somehow you ended up kissing him.

Bucky didn’t even return your kiss at first. He stood there, completely stunned, as your soft lips met his. It took two seconds before his senses were able to convince his body that this was actually happening, and then he lost every ounce of control. The days of back and forth teasing, the innuendos, the lingering glance, it all came together like a pile of firewood and combusted right there in the kitchen. Bucky’s right hand tangled in your hair like it was instinct. As his palm connected with the nape of your neck, he gave your hair a gentle tug and earned himself a sweet moan that traveled from your mouth, straight into his.

He was fucked.

Now, Bucky’s heart is beating out of his chest as he watches you step into his dark bedroom in front of him. He can hear his blood rushing in his ears as he turns around and pushes the door shut, turning the lock into place and then taking a deep breath. Obsession. He has you in his fucking bedroom. He started out the night telling himself to go fuck another woman and now he has you right where he’s always wanted you.

His room smells just like him. It’s dark, but not so dark that you can’t make out his neatly made bed and distinct lack of decor in the space. You’re suddenly aware of the reason why he never brings women here, always choosing to meet them elsewhere instead. The place could be mistaken for a hotel room, without a single personal memento or hint that a person actually lives here. You can feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you take in the new setting. When you turn around to face him, he’s leaning against the door.

“You don’t have a single picture in here.” You point out casually, as if you didn’t just jump the man three minutes ago and then follow him to his bedroom for god knows what. Bucky keeps his eyes trained on yours.

“That’s what you’re thinking about right now?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

“Among other things, yeah.” You admit, walking backwards until you feel the edge of his mattress against the backs of your knees. You sink down onto it, maintaining eye contact through the dark space around you.

“Other things…” Bucky mumbles. He runs a hand through his hair and for a second, he almost looks unsure of himself.

“You were so cocky just five minutes ago.” You tsk, shaking your head. “I didn’t expect Bucky Barnes, the ultimate man-whore, to have performance issues.” Your words could’ve gone in either one of two very different directions. You could’ve hit a sensitive spot of his and turned him off, or you could’ve brought out the side of him you’ve been seeing for days.

“You talk so fucking big for someone so fucking small.” Bucky’s demeanor shifts, and suddenly the energy in the room is as charged as it was the day you sparred with him. You’re silent as he steps away from the door and starts undoing his belt with one hand. One. Fucking. Hand.

“Bucky—”

“No, you sit there and look pretty, don’t say a fucking word.”

You close your mouth instantly, partially due to the shock of his boldness but mostly because when Bucky Barnes tells you what to do, with his hand on his belt, you’ll do it. You aren’t quite sure when your body decided to switch from always wanting to do the opposite of what he said to wanting to do everything he says, but you have a feeling it happened around the time he started praising you for the tiniest things.

“That’s right, you can’t even help yourself, can you? You listen to me because you know it’ll get you what you want.” His voice is smooth and even. Any hint of hesitation has vanished. As he pulls his belt out of the belt loops, he glances down at the strip of leather in his hands. So many things he could do with it, he thinks. He steps even closer to where you sit at the foot of the bed and you swallow hard as you look up at him. Bucky’s mind is reeling. He remembers the way you looked up at your trainer in the gym that day, the way you smiled at him. He almost laughs thinking about how jealous he was of that. And now he has you like this. Bucky drops the belt on the bed beside you and then pulls his shirt over his head in one swift movement, dropping it on the floor beside your feet. As your gaze drops to take in the sight of his toned chest, the scars along his left shoulder, his godly abs, he smiles to himself.

You feel the last dry fabric between your legs become wet when he hooks a finger under your chin and tilts it upwards, forcing you to look up at him once more.

“Keep behaving, and I won’t touch that.” He says evenly, cocking his head in the direction of the belt. Bucky slowly drops to his knees in front of you, placing both hands firmly on your thighs. “Act up, and you’ll have two reasons why you can’t sit down tomorrow, instead of one.”

When he talks to you like that, things either start moving in slow motion or they start fast forwarding. You find yourself flat on your back, with your legs hooked over his shoulders so suddenly that you aren’t sure if it happened in seconds or minutes. You aren’t even sure if you said a word, though the belt still lies on the bed beside you so you must’ve kept his command and stayed quiet.

“You have no idea…” Bucky whispers as he kisses along your inner thigh. “No idea how long I’ve wanted to be between these thighs.” His admission sends blush to your cheeks and a shudder throughout your body. He raises his head for a moment and looks into your eyes. Fuck, he needs to stop doing that. Every time he makes eye contact with you, he’s pushed closer and closer to throwing every care out the window and fucking you like a goddamn animal. He focuses on your dripping cunt instead, finally giving himself the chance to admire it. Every time he breathes you feel it. When he presses his tongue flat against your entrance and begins to drag it up toward your clit, your back arches off the bed at the sudden contact.

“Fuck.” You exhale the word sharply, letting your eyes flutter closed and your fists grip his bedding. As soon as the word leaves your mouth, you remember what he said. Don’t say a fucking word.

“You taste so fucking sweet.” Bucky groans, breaking away from your cunt and pressing his forehead against your thigh to ground himself. “Shit.”

Seconds later, Bucky is working his tongue all over you, into you, like he really has waited forever for this moment. His desperation and fervency only adds to the sensations between your legs, causing a knot to twist in your lower stomach at record speed. As soft whimpers and moans slip past your lips, which you’re trying hard to keep pressed together, Bucky sucks on your clit and remembers what he told you to do.

“Let me hear you, please.” He says just loud enough for you to hear, before diving right back in. In that moment, you can’t believe the filthy sounds that begin spewing from your mouth. Bucky eats up every single sound, every single swear, every single syllable of his name falling from your lips. His name. God, every time you moan his name, his cock twitches in his jeans and he loses another piece of his mind. When your back arches off the bed again and your thighs tighten on the sides of his head, he knows you’re right on the edge. That’s when he, without warning, flicks his tongue over your clit and slips two fingers inside of you. With a few thrusts and curls of his fingers against your walls, and his mouth’s unrelenting actions on your clit, you’re coming undone for him. “That’s it, cum for me.” He encourages you, practically finger fucking you right through your orgasm. “I knew you’d sound so fucking pretty when you cum.”

You’re a limp, panting mess on his bed as he crawls over you, peppering your naked body with kisses all the way up.

“Talk to me.” He coos, leaving a trail of kisses along your neck as he waits for you to say something, anything.

“That was…” You take a deep breath mid-sentence, trying to steady your voice. “You just…” You’re mentally kicking yourself for not being able to form a coherent sentence. You have no doubt that your loss of basic speech skills is only going to inflate his ego.

“That was a fucking dream.” He says softly, sucking on your earlobe and then moving to hover over you. He takes in the sight of you. Your cheeks are flushed, your pupils are blown, and you’re struggling to catch your breath. It’s adorable. “Can you move up higher in the bed or do I need to move you myself?” He asks. At first, you think he’s joking, but when you look into his eyes you see that he’s dead serious. A moment later, you’re settling in with your head on his pillow as he stands beside the bed and strips every last shred of his clothes off. Though your eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the room, the shadows make it impossible to see Bucky’s fully naked form. It isn’t until he’s positioning himself back on top of you that you get the answer to the question that had been on your mind.

“Oh my god, Bucky.” You gasp as his hard cock presses firmly against your thigh.

“Hmm?” He knows exactly what you’re reacting to, and if you could see the smirk painted across his face right now you’d probably want to slap him.

“It’s…you’re so big.” Your voice turns into a whisper. You’re sure you feel his cock twitch and a little bit of precum drip onto your thigh when the words leave your lips. Oh, right. Bucky’s size kink. It makes sense now. How could a guy with such a big dick not have a size kink? “It’s not going to fit.” You say assuredly.

“Oh, it’ll fit. Remember what you said?” Bucky remembers what you said like it was five minutes ago. “I can take whatever you have to give me. You said that to me.” He reminds you.

“I didn’t know—”

“Oh, you knew.” He chuckles, leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss. He distracts you with ease, licking along your bottom lip and then letting it delve into your mouth gently, just as he grinds the head of his cock against your clit. You gasp into the kiss, which only encourages him to deepen it further. He starts rutting against you, dragging his cock back and forth between your folds with every movement of his hips. If he had it his way, he’d be fully sheathed within you right now, fucking you so hard you’d see stars.

Bucky lets the head of his cock get closer and closer to your entrance with every rut of his hips, but he continues distracting you with his mouth. He fully intended to keep kissing you when he finally let his cock slide into you, but just as he notches inside of you and starts pushing in, he breaks the kiss.

His lips hover within millimeters of yours as your pussy grips him and pulls him in deeper and deeper. You’re both open-mouthed, breathing into each other, looking into each other’s eyes as your bodies meld together. Obsession. It’s the only word on his mind as he watches your eyes squeeze shut while your legs spread all for him.

He fucks you slowly at first, giving you time to adjust as he sticks to shallow thrusts. When your eyes open and you look up at him once again, he smiles down at you and picks up the pace, thrusting a little deeper as you start to focus on the feel of him. But when your name leaves his lips and you start scratching your nails down his bare back? He starts fucking you like he owns you. He fucks you as meticulously as he cleaned the crevices of his vibranium arm earlier.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well.” Bucky groans, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. “My cock is splitting you in half and you’re fucking taking it.” He can feel how close you are, and the absolutely cock-drunk expression on your face only confirms it. Your expression paired with the most sultry moans he’s ever heard have him following you right to the edge. “You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you? Such a good girl, ready to cum all over my cock.”

“Bucky, if you keep talking like that—fuck.” He only speeds up when you start talking, convinced that if you’re still talking, he’s not fucking you hard enough.

“Shut the fuck up.” He groans, hating the way those few simple words from you nearly made him blow his load. “Shit.” Bucky hooks your legs around his waist and pulls your arms away from his back, pinning them down on the bed on either side of your head. He doesn’t have to say another word for you to know what he’s doing. He’s fucking you until you can’t do anything, until you can’t say anything, until all you can do is cum for him.

Your orgasm is uncontrollable when it comes crashing in, making your back arch off of the bed and your bare chest press against his as you cry out his name.

Bucky’s orgasm? Bucky’s orgasm was so much more uncontrollable that it didn’t even cross his mind to pull out and cum anywhere except inside of you. He pushed so deep inside of you when he started cumming that you swear you felt the heat of it in your stomach. Even when you were both finished, he just couldn’t stop thrusting in and out of you.

“Good girl, such a good girl.” He kept whispering against your neck as he rutted into you, using his own cum mixed with your wetness as lube.

As he collapses on top of you, your hands immediately move in two different directions. One begins tangling in his hair, gently massaging his scalp, while the other goes to caress his back with the softest touch. Only one word surfaces in your mind as you listen to his heavy breathing and focus on the feel of his skin against yours.

Obsession.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 13 days

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[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader

Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.

Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending

“Are you married?”

He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.

“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.

He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.

The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.

It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?

He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.

No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.

He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.

I’m sorry.

The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.

Please stay.

The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.

Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.

He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.

Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.

His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.

Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.

I miss you so much.

but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.

That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.

You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.

He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.

The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.

You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.

“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.

“Hey.” He mumbles.

The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.

Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...

He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.

“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.

because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.

It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.

“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”

“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”

“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”

“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”

“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”

“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”

“Anything else you want to say?”

“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”

“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”

He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.

Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.

“My pleasure.”

a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j

#cod imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader

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earthtooz · 3 months

Text

cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain

my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...

he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.

you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.

aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.

you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.

a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.

during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.

ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.

your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.

the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.

"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.

"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.

"make haste, then," he urges.

during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.

despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.

(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)

he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.

but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.

it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.

ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.

perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.

and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.

he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.

when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.

you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ earf's ideas that i'll never write #earthtooz: honkai star rail #dr ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr. ratio x reader

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flickering-chandelier · 23 days

Text

It’s Cool, We’re Just Friends

Pairing: Azriel x BestFriend! Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been besties for years, until one night has them crossing into uncharted territory.

Warning: Steamy at the end whoops

Word Count: 2.8k

The rooftop garden at Rhysand’s townhouse was one of your favorite places in the world. It was one of the only places that you could often have to yourself when you needed some time for quiet reflection. You loved to lounge up there, especially at night when you could watch the City of Starlight come to life before your very eyes.

The only thing better than having the rooftop all to yourself was sharing it with your best friend, Azriel.

You smiled as he appeared, smoothly landing a few feet from you, his eyes sparkling, his shadows vanishing as he smiled at you.

He dragged the empty iron chair closer to you and settled in, stretching his wings out behind him, placing his hands behind his head, leaning back casually. He only sat this way when it was just the two of you, when he didn’t have to keep up appearances as the Night Court’s spymaster and shadowsinger.

“What did you do today?” he asked, looking out at the light and life of the city.

“Trained with Cassian. Hated my life,” you said, shifting in the iron chair to ease some of the soreness in your back.

Azriel laughed quietly, his eyes flicking to you as you tried to get comfortable. “Cassian always has that effect on me, too.”

You scoffed, lightly swatting at his bare bicep. “Don’t be mean. You love your brother.”

He sighed, smiling lightly at you. “Then what?”

“Mmmm,” you pondered, running through your day in your mind. “Oh! I finished my book!”

“The one about the forbidden love?” He lifted his eyebrow.

“Yes!” you squealed, excitedly. “It was so good.”

“Let me guess,” he said, his voice teasing in that way that he saved just for you. “They finally got together and lived happily ever after?”

“Yes! How did you know?” You teased.

He shook his head, smiling. “Anything else?”

“Not really,” you said, studying him. He was the only person you had ever met who actually wanted to know the answer when they asked you how your day was. “What did you do today?”

Azriel shrugged, looking out at the city again, the flickering lights below reflecting in his eyes. “Not much.”

“Are you kidding me?” You leaned forward in your seat, gawking at him, and he laughed. “I tell you everything about my boring day, and that’s your answer?”

His smile faded though as he leveled a gaze at you, his eyes sweeping over your face. “I wanted to spare you the details.”

Your blood turned cold at his serious expression. Azriel and you had been best friends for years, ever since you had fled your home in the Autumn Court. From your old home, you had gone north, nearly freezing to death in the Winter Court before the shadowsinger found you and gave you refuge in Velaris. The two of you were kindred spirits, hitting it off instantly. His brothers and his other friends had eventually told you that he immediately relaxed in your presence, even from the beginning, and that he had never seemed so comfortable with someone so quickly. You were honored to be his friend, thanked the stars every night that he had found you and saved your life.

He had been fiercely protective of you from the beginning, wanting to shield you from the realities of what his life was like outside of Velaris. You hated to admit it, but you did get squeamish thinking about what you knew Azriel sometimes had to do -- the torture, the blood, the screams. The thought of him sneaking around in dangerous territories, watching enemies, gathering intel on the in’s and out’s of their lives… it made you more worried than you could express.

But, you also hated not knowing what he was doing, if he was safe. It took months, but you eventually convinced him that you could handle at least the vaguest details of the missions he went on. You knew that he would never be willing to tell you the whole truth, knew that he didn’t want you to think of him that way -- the ruthless, unyielding shadowsinger.

“Oh,” you said finally. “Are you okay?”

Still, he would usually tell you something. So, if he was unwilling to tell you what he had been doing today… it must have been something very dangerous indeed.

His eyes softened as he gazed at you. “I am now.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sweet Illyrian before you. “You can talk about it, you know. If you have to. I’m here for you,” you reached across the space between you, gently taking his hand.

Azriel’s gaze landed on your hand clasped with his, his expression softening to barely detectable sadness that made you heart hurt. “I know you are,” he said softly.

You studied him for a moment, eyes trailing over that beautiful face that you had memorized. He was in his fighting leathers, tattoos peeking out from under his collar, trailing down his bare arms, his strong biceps that were the size of your head, his massive wings stretched out behind him.

And his rough, scarred hand gently holding yours.

You tugged on his hand gently, so his eyes met yours again. “Want to take me for a ride?”

He smirked, an expression that had taken months of friendship to unlock. “You sure you want to?”

“You seem like you could use a distraction,” you murmured.

Azriel held your gaze for a beat longer before he stood up and scooped you into his arms, only pausing for a moment to smile at you before he shot up into the sky.

Flying with your Illyrian friends had taken a long time for you to get remotely used to, and even now it sometimes made your stomach churn. But you knew it helped clear Azriel’s mind, and you liked the time you got to spend with him in the air, just the two of you.

He held you close against him, his arms wrapped behind your back and under your knees. You rested a hand on his chest, reveling in your opportunity to study him while his eyes were trained on his surroundings. No matter how much time you spent with your friend, his beauty never ceased to amaze you.

You could feel the tension in his body slowly loosen as he flew above his city, a light breeze gracing against your skin, running through your hair through the shields that he put up around the two of you.

Dipping his head, bringing his mouth to your ear, he murmured, “Thank you.”

You curled into him, resting your head on his chest. He tightened his grip on you slightly.

Sometime later, he landed back on the roof, setting you carefully on the ground. Despite his gentle touch, you winced quietly as the muscles in your back ached from your training this morning.

Azriel’s brow furrowed, his hands freezing at your waist, his fingers flexing against your body. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, smiling sweetly up at him.

He arched a brow, not believing it for a second.

“It’s nothing!”

He simply waited, knowing full well that you couldn’t keep your mouth shut for long.

“Okay, fine,” you groaned. “My back hurts. A lot.”

His eyes swam with worry, before narrowing in accusation. “You haven’t been doing the stretches you’re supposed to be doing, have you?”

“Well…” you said, your voice rising a few octaves. “Not all of them.”

He growled your name, his frustration evident. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “They didn’t seem that important at the time.”

“What are you doing?” you squealed, trying and failing not to stare at your best friend’s glorious ass, which was now far too close to your face.

Groaning, he picked you up and slung you over his shoulder, heading for the stairs of the townhouse. You shrieked. In all of your years together, he had never done this.

“I’m going to help you solve the problem that you created, because you’re my best friend, and because you clearly aren’t capable of taking care of yourself,” he said, as he stomped unceremoniously down the stairs.

Scoffing, you said, “Is this really a necessary part of it?”

“Yes,” he countered, clearly amused.

You huffed, staying silent as he walked through the mercifully empty halls to your bedroom. He opened the door with his free hand, kicking it shut behind him, before tossing you onto the bed.

“Oww,” you groaned as your back hit the mattress.

The tough guy act faded as soon as you were in pain. His eyes softened. “Sorry.”

“I thought you said you were going to help me,” you grumbled.

“I am,” he said, stalking towards you, his eyes alight. “Lay on your stomach.”

You quirked a brow at him in question, but when he just silently held your gaze, you sighed and did as you were told.

Suddenly, you were very aware of how thin the material of your dress was, how the hem landed just above your knees. You were thankful that he couldn’t see the heat in your cheeks.

The mattress shifted beneath you as he climbed onto the bed. “What are you--”

“Shh.”

Your skin prickled as he settled his calves snug against your hips, straddling you. He remained hovering over your body on his knees. You weren’t sure you were breathing.

“Okay, what are you --”

The air was sucked out of your lungs as his hands found their way to your shoulders, kneading your back with his rough fingers, digging deep into you, working out all the tension that had been building in your muscles for who knows how long.

You weren’t sure if it felt good or if it hurt… both. Definitely both.

He remained silent as he worked out the knots in your back, gradually moving lower and lower, kneading and rubbing.

The lower his hands moved, the more you had to focus not to squirm. You felt the heat of his body, and the things his hands were doing… you couldn't help but imagine what those hands could do in other places.

It’s not like you had never thought about it before. You had always been just friends, but you weren’t blind. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen. And he was always so sweet and kind and protective…

You couldn’t stop the moan that came out of your mouth.

His hands stilled for the slightest moment before he continued kneading your muscles. “You doing okay?” He asked, his voice thick. It made heat spread between your legs. The legs that he was currently holding down with his body.

“Mmhmm,” was all you could manage.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed when he finally lifted his hands from your back. “Is that better?” he asked softly, not moving from his position over you.

You twisted around a bit, testing movements that had made you wince before. After a moment you turned to lay on your back, your body touching his in so many places as you did so. “You’re a miracle worker,” you said, your voice coming out raspy.

He continued to hover over you, his expression unreadable. He leaned closer, bracing his forearms on either side of you, his chest pressing against yours, his face only inches away.

“Az,” you breathed, unable to look away from the heat in his eyes.

His eyes sparked and he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours, twining a hand in your hair as the other gripped your waist.

Your body responded to his immediately, your hands cupping his cheek, wrapping around the back of his neck.

The kiss started out slow. Azriel was taking his time, and when you opened your mouth for him, his tongue slid in gently, exploring your mouth with such tenderness that you wanted to weep.

You gasped as he pulled away to leave a line of sensual kisses down your neck, his hands running over your stomach, your thighs.. “We should’ve been doing this the whole time,” you moaned, breathless.

He laughed into your skin, and you felt the vibration go through your whole body. You squeezed your thighs together and he groaned, nipping lightly at your shoulder.

“Yes, we should have,” he said, kissing his way up your neck. “We’re idiots,” he laughed before taking your mouth with his again, kissing you deeply.

“So stupid,” you said against his mouth and the shoulders you were clutching shook with laughter.

Azriel continued to kiss you slowly, his rough hand drifting underneath your dress, up your thighs…

“Is this okay?” he pulled his mouth back an inch, his eyes studying your face, his body attuned to your every reaction.

“Az, you’re my very favorite person. I trust you with my life. You can do whatever you want to me,” you said, your voice teasing despite how breathless he was making you.

His eyes sparked, his expression one of affection and disbelief before he smirked, his hand trailing up further. “Whatever I want, hmm?” he murmured, his eyes trained on yours.

You could only stare as his hand stilled, a fraction away from where you really wanted him.

“And what do you want, my dear friend?” he said, his voice velvety in a way you’d never heard before.

“Please,” was all you could manage.

He grinned, waiting a beat before he moved your underwear to the side, sliding a finger into your center.

The moan that you let out nearly rattled the walls.

His gaze was trained on you, watching how your body reacted to every move he made. Eventually you tugged his clothes off and he did the same to you, until you were moving together, skin to skin. He moaned your name as he slid into you, setting your body on fire.

He pressed his forehead to yours as he moved inside you, one of his hands holding yours, clutched next to your head, as he kissed your lips gently. He gazed at you when he pulled back, his every movement swimming with affection. “You’re my favorite person,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re the hottest man in the world,” you said just as quietly, your fingers scratching down his back, his wings rippling behind him.

The laugh that rumbled through him made your head spin, and his hips move faster. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he countered, smiling lovingly down at you.

“I was staring at your ass when you slung me over your shoulder,” you admitted.

“I stare at your ass whenever you leave the room,” he grinned, bending down to nip playfully at your neck, his hips not breaking his steady rhythm.

You gasped, swatting his arm. “You do not!”

“I do,” he laughed, kissing your neck.

“I thought you were a gentleman!” you said mockingly.

He looked at you pointedly, slamming his hips into yours more forcefully. The sound that escaped from your throat was filthy.

“I guess you’re learning a lot about me tonight,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.

You rolled your eyes playfully before wrapping a hand around the back of his head, twisting your fingers through his hair as you brought his mouth down to yours.

You didn’t speak again until some time later, when he was holding you close, your legs entwined, your head resting on his bare chest, his wings enveloping you in their warmth.

Idly, you drew shapes and patterns onto his skin with your fingertip. He shivered. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a long time,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on your finger, moving to trace over his tattoos, too afraid to look at his expression.

His arms tightened around you and he kissed the top of your head. “I’ve been in love with you since I met you.”

Your gaze flicked to him, your eyes wide. He smiled softly down at you. “You have?"

He kissed you gently in response. “How could I not be?” he whispered.

Your bottom lip trembled and he ran his thumb across it. “Don’t cry,” he murmured.

That made you cry. He laughed, his wings wrapping tighter around the two of you, shielding you from the world.

“Such a softie,” he teased, lifting your chin to press a sweet kiss to your mouth.

You grumbled adamantly, burying your face in his chest.

The two of you laid in companionable silence for a while before he broke it. “You’re going to do your stretches from now on, right?”

“If this is the treatment I get when I don’t do them? Absolutely not,” you grinned.

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel one shot #azriel x reader #azriel x you

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tteokdoroki · 6 months

Text

☆༉ — SATORU GOJO. a love so cold.

about. as the seasons start to change, satoru gojo figures out a new way to keep you warm on colder mornings.

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. smut, somnophilia, soft morning sex, oral sex (f!receiving), brief mention of gojo and reader being married, lovey lovey lovey dovey dovey dovey stuff !! fem!reader.

gojo waking you up on a cold morning by diving between your thighs.

sure the duvet is long abandoned and your (his) shirt is pushed up to expose your pebbled nipples to the frosty air — but it’s the heat of his tongue salaciously rolling through your puffy folds that keep you nice and warm.

satoru breathes hot air against your pulsing mount, his lips encircling your clit as he sucks it, kisses it and makes out with it as if he’s making out with you. every time he moans into your heat, he draws a shrill sound from deep in your chest that pierces the solace of autumn’s silence. your whines echo along with the sway of rustling tree leaves and gojo’s hungry growls provide the bass of your seasonal tune.

he’s a sight for sore eyes between your shaky thighs that knock the blankets from your king sized bed. his blue eyes blaze bright enough to rival the subtle hue of the morning sky breaking through the curtains of night. it’s always darker this time of year. and his pale white locks, astray and askew, remind you that it might snow once winter comes.

“sa..satoru!” you exclaim though your voice is hoarse from not having been used in hours. the last thing you’d said was that you loved him — you think that you might love him even more right now. mouth on your sluice and syrupy slit, sucking the very juices from their place between your pussy lips. your fingers dance down to grip the roots of his hair, settled against his scalp like snow on sturdy ground. you don’t tug yet, only using his head to ground yourself. “sa…satoru—oh!”

your lips move to form the syllables of his name — though they’re lost on you when the ecstasy he builds up within you, by tacking his tongue to your clit in tight circles, starts a fire in your lower pelvis. that very same fire burns it’s way through your body like a forest fire, effectively warming you up from the inside out. it keeps going, consuming your every nerve ending until it reaches the base of your lungs and all you can breathe is the smoke of satoru gojo.

“good morning to you too, sweetheart,” satoru sings into your cunt in amusement. his voice holds the tenderness of an early morning greeting before he delves back into tasting you — slurping and sucking up and down the length of your slit before slipping his tongue into your quivering hole. his chin juts forward rhythmically, as if to fuck you with the pink appendage like it’s his cock.

he watches your face with adoration as it twists and scrunches and morphs into pure bliss. he loves that about you, how expressive you are — how your body follows his lead even if it’s too cold for you to stop shaking. he’ll warm you up. he always does.

“you don’t have to say it back, i know, baby. you’re just too tired, too close to even speak—“ gojo doesn’t get a chance to finish, not before your fingers twist in his roots as his tongue twists and wiggles against your sloppy, ribbed wall. it travels along your pleasure spots — the ones only he knows about, and maps out even more for next time. but any praise or condescension he has saved for you is lost and muffled against your sex as you rut your hips down on his handsome face.

“‘m close… gonna… haf’ta—!”

finally finding your voice despite the smoke-like aphrodisiac in your lungs — you succumb to the heat. the hotness of satoru’s mouth on you, his fingers sinking into your hips to keep you on his face, the lust that prickles just below the surface of your skin. you cum just as the winter birds break the silence with their own morning calls, as the sun breaks through grey-ish and intimidating clouds. you gush all over satoru, your lover and protector, with a high pitch and whistle tone wail — head thrown back into the pillows and your lips parted ever so slightly.

his white brows knit together in the centre of his forehead, mocking your dazed and needy expression. however, it’s clear he’s just as love and sex and pussy drunk on you as you might be on him. satoru results to gulping down the stormy waves of your orgasm with unbridled greed. as of what you offer him is the finest of wines or the last thing he’ll ever drink.

those pretty blue eyes are overcome with a haze as he drinks you down, dazed and content to just have a taste of you. satoru’s tongue makes its laps through your folds to make sure he doesn’t waist a drop — wolffish grunts and groans and sounds like ‘mph’ or ‘mhm’ reverberate between your thighs until he’s done cleaning you up. only adding to your shakes and shivers.

not from the cold, but from how hard you’ve cum.

“you… mph, taste so— fucking good, baby.” he huffs, breathless from nearly suffocating himself to get a taste of you. gojo dares to dive back in, but you tug on his hair once more and force him to look up into your pleading eyes.

“‘toru,” you whisper, lashes fluttering innocently, voice still shaky and hoarse. “good morning.”

you need him, up there with you.

his face breaks out into a slow and sexy smile — kissing up your body, over your naval and between the valley of your breasts, against your neck and chin until he reaches your lips. he kisses you gently then and his entire body sits between your thighs.

“good morning, beautiful.” he sighs, content. he cups your face gently to keep you looking at him, his wedding band glistening more than what you’ve left on his chin.

you hum, feeling his body heat simmer over you along with what’s left of the arousal in your system while it simmers down. “you’re insatiable, you know that?”

“but you love me.”

“i suppose so.”

“ouch, sweetheart. so cold.” gojo pouts, faux hurt laced with his teasing voice.

and in that moment, you wrap your legs around his unfairly slender waist and flip the man so that you end up on top — straddling the great satoru gojo and planting your hands on his the centre of his blistering hot chest.

there’s a glint in your eye, the flicker of a lustful flame that only serves to set satoru’s heart alight while you press your sticky sex down on him.

“then let me do the honours of warming you back up, my love.”

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #angelshubnetwork #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki

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moonlightspencie · 6 months

Text

only like you can

Description: based on ‘already over’ by sabrina carpenter— ex boyfriend!james and reader just can’t seem to stay away from each other.

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Warnings: some suggestive content (pg-13 pretty much), angst with a happy ending, lily evans is mean in this one for the plot

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: aging them up to allow for the suggestive content. they’ll be 19 in this (first year starts at 14 instead of 11)

here’s the playlist

Running through the halls as a first year with your brand new group of friends, you never would imagine you’d end up dating one of them. You definitely never thought you’d have a break-up with one of them.

But, you just had to fall for Jamie in your third year. And he just had to ask you out in fifth. You were blindsided by his confession in the best way, and falling into a relationship with your closest friend was as easy as falling asleep.

Overexcited hugs after he’d win a quidditch game turned into kisses. Whispers of goodnight as you headed off to different rooms turned into sneaking into one another’s beds. The casual ‘I love you’ between friends turned into a kind of love that had both of you thinking about the future.

But, things changed again after a year.

Accusations started getting thrown around left and right. He’d say that you weren’t making time for him anymore. You’d argue that he seemed more interested in spending time with Lily. A back-and-forth would always spread like wildfire until you couldn’t breathe.

The break up was mostly mutual. You said you wanted it to happen, but you knew you were lying to yourself. He agreed, but it was only because he didn’t want you to know he was still invested. It left both of you putting happy faces over broken hearts, agreeing that you’d still be friends despite the fact that you knew you’d never get over him if he stuck around. But, never getting over him still felt better than losing him entirely.

You were sat in the common room, laughing over some dumb joke Sirius had made at Lucius Malfoy’s expense. The fire was blazing, keeping you all warm in the late-autumn that was otherwise freezing. You were next to James on the couch, Sirius was on the floor in front of the fire, and Remus and Peter were in a couple of chairs. It was nice. Cozy. But, coming down from your laughter, you let your head drop to the side, finding a familiar comfort.

Remus looked at you as you did, quirking a brow. You’d landed on James’ shoulder.

“You two back together?” he asked.

“Oh,” you said, quickly lifting your head again. “Sorry, Jamie.”

He shook his head. “It’s alright. Habit.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

A tense silence fell over the small group. Then, James stood.

“I’m going to grab a sweater. Be right back,” he announced, walking towards the stairs.

You looked after him until he was out of your sight, turning your head to find three pairs of eyes on you.

“Love,” Sirius said cautiously, almost grimacing.

“I know,” you sighed, leaning back into the couch. “I know. I just— It’s hard.”

He sighed, moving from his spot to sit in James’ spot on the couch. He tossed an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side a little.

“Might help if you two quit finding ways to be next to each other every time we go someplace,” he said quietly.

You nodded. “I know.”

“Why did you two break up if you both clearly want to be around each other all the time?” Peter asked, furrowing his brow.

“We weren’t good together.”

The three boys shot each other similar looks, knowing there was nothing they could say to help you in that moment. You merely sighed, staring into the fire as Remus tried to redirect the conversation.

James came back a minute later as they chatted over some fiasco in Potions class, a sour look on his face when he saw Sirius had taken his spot. His brow only set harder when he saw the arm around your shoulders. He sat in another chair, following your gaze into the fire, not wanting to look at his best friend and now-ex-girlfriend practically cuddling. It made him sick.

You didn’t feel much better, noticing him looking so downtrodden and being unable to kiss away that frown of his.

But you had to remind yourself of why you broke up in the first place. ‘It’s for the better’, you kept repeating to yourself in your head, trying to block out how badly you wanted to just talk to him. It was getting ridiculous, you knew that. It didn’t make it any easier, though.

“I think I’m ready for bed,” you mentioned after half an hour of sitting quietly.

A small chorus of ‘goodnight’ followed you to the stairs, and you trudged up to your room, feeling gloomy. You brushed your teeth, washed your face, and pulled on your pajamas. It was days like this that you were glad you got a single room for the year. You settled into your bed, cracking open the book on your nightstand to practice a little escapism. You were two chapters deep when you heard a knock on your door.

You crawled out of bed, rubbing your eyes as you went to open the door. When you pulled it open, your eyes went a little wider.

“Hey,” James said, looking shy.

You swallowed. “Oh. Hi.”

“Could we talk? Please?”

You contemplated it for a moment, trying to tell yourself it was a bad idea. But it was late. And you missed him. And you really didn’t want to turn him away.

“Yeah. Come in,” you said quietly, a small smile on your face.

He walked in slowly, unsure, as if he hadn’t spent the entirety of the past year sneaking in every other day. You looked at his back for a moment, noticing him with his hands up in front of his stomach.

“Don’t pick at your nails, Jamie,” you said, moving around him to sit on your bed.

He chuckled softly. “How’d you know? You couldn’t even see my hands.”

“How wouldn’t I know?”

His smile faded a bit at that. “Right.”

You sat quietly for a minute, practically hearing the gears turning in his head. He stared out the window in your room, his brows a little furrowed.

“What is it, James?”

His eyes snapped to yours. He sighed, looking at your bed.

“Can I sit?” he gestured next to you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, scooting to give him some more room.

He sat, looking around at anything but you.

“What’s up?”

He shrugged. “Uh, I don’t know. It’s probably nothing, you know.”

“You came to talk to me about it.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, chuckling to himself humorlessly. “I don’t want this to come across weird.”

“It’s fine, James. I’m used to you.”

He smiled, though it dropped quickly. “Is there something going on with you and Padfoot?”

Your eyes went wide, a laugh escaping you.

“Excuse me?”

“He took my spot on the couch. Kinda cuddling you.”

“James,” you said, getting his attention. “That’s insane. He sat with me because I was sad. He was being a friend, like every other time he’s hugged me or comforted me.”

He nodded, letting out a breath. “Sorry. Just got a little paranoid, I guess.”

“That’s okay. I get it.”

He swallowed. “Do you not want to be around me?”

“Why would you ask that? We agreed to be friends after…”

“I know, but I just don’t know how to act around you now.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this, either. We’re in a weird place, now.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out.

You looked at him for a moment, and he shot you another shy smile. It was strange to see him so timid, but you couldn’t help but smile back. Even acting so strangely, he was still the same old Jamie.

“Is that all? I’m pretty tired.”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah. That’s it. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

He started standing, and you walked him to the door. He suddenly pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly to his chest. You leaned into him, relishing in that feeling while you could. He pulled away, opening your door.

“Night, Jamie.”

“Goodnight,” he smiled, not moving.

He quickly leaned down, just barely pressing his lips to yours, but it was enough to send your heart fluttering. He pulled back as quickly as he leaned in, muttering a quick ‘sorry’ before leaving. You shut your door, the tension in your body finally releasing. You fell into a restless sleep that night.

The following week felt as difficult as the first week after the break up. Sirius and Remus would try to comfort you, and Peter would offer silly jokes to stop you from looking so sad all the time.

You’d gone to dinner with Remus and Peter after they’d pleaded with you that night, figuring you still needed to eat despite your feelings. No sense in making yourself feel even worse if you could help it.

Dinner was surprisingly good. You laughed with the two boys, almost forgetting about your troubles as you chatted with them. Until you heard a pretty loud mention of ‘James’ coming from a few people down the table.

You paused, listening when you heard his name come out of Lily’s mouth. You focused hard on your plate, hoping she’d keep up her volume. Yeah, it was probably wrong to snoop, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care all that much.

“… Maybe this weekend,” she said, a few giggles coming from her friends. “He always goes to Hogsmeade on Sunday afternoons.”

“Now that he doesn’t have that girl hanging on him, you actually might have a chance,” one of her friends added in, to which you clenched your jaw in annoyance.

“Maybe. He’s been pretty off since they broke up.”

“Good,” another girl added. “It probably means he needs a reason to move on.”

You decided you’d heard enough, standing from your spot.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked, looking to Remus with a frown.

“Common room. I’ll see you guys soon,” you said, waving a goodbye to both boys.

You were fuming as you walked back to the common room. It hurt more than you thought it would to think about him with anyone else, but especially her. You’d never been too sure about her intentions with the friendship she had with James, and this just solidified your concerns. Not to mention, her friends clearly didn’t like you. You didn’t even know them, and they had to nerve to talk about you like you were merely an inconvenience the whole time. You were stewing in that feeling, trying not to let it affect you too much, and failing miserably. You didn’t even notice your name being called behind you.

“Y/N,” he called again.

You looked up, turning towards James’ voice. His face dropped when he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, rushing forward to you. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Just upset.”

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He sighed, leaning over to catch your eye. You chewed on your lip, the pit in your stomach only growing. You couldn’t stop thinking about Lily’s plan for the weekend, especially now that you were face to face with him.

“It matters to me,” he said softly. “Please? I just want to help.”

“You can’t help, Jamie,” you shook your head.

He was silent for a moment, thinking. You fiddled with your hands, looking down at your shoes. He called your name again, quietly, to get your attention. You looked up, heart still fluttering when you looked in his eyes.

“How about we go steal some of Mooney’s chocolate and just sit for a while?” he offered. “Then, maybe we can talk later?”

You couldn’t help but smile a little at the suggestion. You didn’t even think it could be considered stealing anymore. Remus always stocked up extra on his desk, knowing his roommates were prone to grabbing some every now and then.

“I’m taking that smile as a ‘yes’,” he said, a smile growing on his own face. “Come on.”

You walked alongside him as you headed towards Gryffindor tower, holding yourself back from taking his hand. Particularly flexing your self-control muscle when his fingers would brush softly against the back of your hand.

“You know, he just got some with caramel in the middle,” James mentioned as you climbed the stairs.

“Yeah? Are they any good?”

“Mm,” he nodded enthusiastically. “Very. I think you’ll like them.”

You laughed. “Sounds like you do, doesn’t it?”

He snorted a laugh. “How’d you tell?”

“It’s my sixth sense.”

“Sure, it is,” he responded. “I always thought it was knowing when I was picking at my nails.”

“See, that’s just me knowing you after all these years. Bit different.”

He chuckled, saying the password to let you into the common room. The portrait swung open, and he snuck you up to the boys’ shared room.

“Here we are,” he said mischievously, walking towards Mooney’s desk.

You shut the dorm door, walking over as he handed you a few chocolates.

“Thank you.”

“Thank Mooney,” he said, smirking. “Let’s sit. Come on.”

You took a breath, sitting with him on his bed. It all felt okay, until you remembered why you were there in the first place.

You opened the wrapping on one of the chocolates, popping it in your mouth silently. James watched you, sighing softly when you didn’t say anything after a few minutes.

“Don’t like when you’re quiet like this,” he mumbled. “Scares me.”

“Scares you?” you questioned.

“Well, last time you were quiet like this, we had a conversation that…” he shrugged. “It wasn’t very fun, was it?”

You hummed. ‘Not very fun’ was an understatement. The day you broke up, you sobbed until you threw up.

“Sorry,” you said. “I could start yelling if you’d like?”

He laughed. “Don’t think I’d like that much, either.”

You smiled, though it was half-hearted. He could tell.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

You shrugged. “I’ll just have to get over it. I don’t think there’s much to talk about, honestly.”

“Alright,” he conceded. “Would it make you feel better to… I don’t know. Read?”

“You’d read?” you asked, amused.

“No, I’d made you read to me,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Don’t know if I’m up to that, right now.”

“Later?”

“When?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe tomorrow?”

“What’s today? Friday?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You considered it, liking the idea of spending more time with him despite how bad of an idea it was to be alone. Especially after last time.

Then, a worse idea came to mind.

“How about Sunday?”

He raised a brow. “Sunday?”

You nodded. “If that’s okay. I know that’s a Hogsmeade day, but everyone will be out of the castle. We’d get to sit by the fire in the common room. It would be nice and quiet.”

He cracked a small smile. “That does sound nice. Can I pick the book?”

“Of course,” you nodded.

You knew it was a little underhanded, taking him away from Hogsmeade for the day. It was really just a form of delaying the inevitable. He was bound to move on eventually. But why did it have to happen that weekend? He could wait a little bit longer, you reasoned.

Though, you still knew the real reason was that you would do anything to keep him from hanging off of someone else’s lips. You didn’t quite care if it was a bit selfish.

Saturday came and went. Sunday morning you woke up with a small smile on your face. Despite the fact that it may have been a bad idea to set aside alone time with your ex, especially just to get him away from another girl, it felt nice to relish in the familiarity of being with him.

Hours later you were curled up on the couch with James looking over your shoulder as you read to him. He’d make a stray comment here and there about the plot or laugh at the jokes, but was otherwise surprisingly tuned in. You were halfway through when he yawned.

“Tired?” you asked, pausing your reading to look up at him.

“A bit,” he shrugged. “Didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Oh.”

You furrowed your brow as you looked away, then glanced back at him.

“Everything okay?”

He nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. “Just too excited for you to read to me, I bet.”

You chuckled, ignoring the heat in your cheeks as you turned back towards the book, ready to start reading again. Then, he started shuffling around.

“What are you doing?” you asked with a sigh.

“Gonna lay down,” he shrugged, “Can I…”

He paused, scrunching up his face a bit. You watched him, questioning.

“Can you what?”

“Probably a bad idea,” he said shortly, shaking his head.

“Just tell me.”

He looked a little shy as he glanced at you. “Was gonna ask if I could lay on your lap.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding once. “Well, as long as you don’t try any funny business, I don’t see why not. It’s preferable to you putting your feet on me if you lay the opposite way.”

He laughed. “I suppose that’s true.”

He waited another moment, then started laying down, his head resting on your legs. Once he was comfortable, you started reading again. After a while, you weren’t even sure if he was awake anymore.

Even more time passed, and you heard him softly snoring, a smile on your face as you looked down at him, one of his hands having squeezed it’s way under your leg. You ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, continuing your reading silently.

An hour later and you were finished with the book, your hand still brushing through his hair as a habit. You watched him for a few minutes, letting out a soft breath.

“Jamie,” you called quietly, the hand in his hair moving to brush across his cheek. “James.”

He stirred, groaning. “Mm?”

“You fell asleep,” you said with a grin. “I let you nap for a little over an hour, but if you want to sleep tonight you should probably wake up.”

He grumbled, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. “Don’t wanna get up.”

“Always so grumpy when you wake up,” you mumbled, more to yourself than anything. “Come on, Jamie. We can go snag some tea or go for a walk or something.”

He sighed softly, stretching out a little bit before he started moving away from your legs, pulling his hand out from under your thigh. He started sitting up, not realizing he was terribly close to you until you were looking at one another, feeling his gentle breathing fan on your face. You swallowed, trying hard not to glance down at the lips you knew were soft and skilled.

He didn’t care to try so hard.

He leaned in before you knew what was happening, kissing you like it was the first time. His hand came up to cradle your face, tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss, his tongue soft against your lip as he waited for you to grant him access. It certainly didn’t take you long to oblige him.

He leaned his body into you, and eventually started pulling you underneath him, your head hitting the couch cushions as he settled in between your legs. It was all desperation and passion as his hand slipped up under your top, brushing over the fabric of your bra to squeeze gently at your breasts. You leaned into his touch, soft noises escaping you and going directly into his mouth.

You felt his chest heaving against your own as you kissed, his hips rolling against you, desperate for friction that he’d missed for so long. Desperate for you.

You bit at his lip, breaking away only to kiss down his jaw. He hummed softly in satisfaction, but grew impatient, moving to capture your lips with his own once again.

It was only when a real moan managed to leave you and linger in the air that his hand stopped groping at you. His lips slowed, and he finally broke away, catching his breath like he’d been underwater.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words rushed. “I shouldn’t have done that. Again.”

“Not your fault. I kissed you back.”

He chewed at his lip. “We should really stop this before it starts happening more.”

“We should,” you nodded.

He swallowed, eyes roaming over your face. You leaned up, capturing his lips again, this time gently. He allowed it, though this kiss lasted a much shorter time than the previous.

“Maybe we should take that walk,” you said, trying to break the tension.

“Might need to wait a few minutes, love,” he said, not-so-subtly glancing down at his pants.

You laughed, though you felt that funny feeling in your stomach when he called you ‘love’ again. You followed his gaze, raising your brows.

“Yeah. Probably don’t want to go around like that just in case. Not exactly hard to miss,” you snorted.

He rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. You watched him, moving to sit back up yourself. He stared ahead at the fireplace.

“Stop looking at me,” he said, not even glancing in your direction.

“What?” you laughed.

He glanced at you. “It’s not helping my little situation, you know?”

“Me looking at you is making it worse?”

“You existing is hard enough to ignore when I get like this,” he said with a laugh. “Not to mention when you can… You know. See it.”

“Well, I can’t exactly see it. You do still have pants on, you know?”

He chuckled, though he hid his face in his hands as his cheeks turned pink.

“Stop giving me ideas. It’s not fair, love.”

“Alright, alright,” you conceded, ignoring your own… feelings. “I’ll be quiet and look away.”

He nodded, shutting his eyes and letting his head loll back on the couch. You tried hard not to think about how effected he was, and tried even harder not to think about how effected you were. You stared at the window nearest to you, thinking about absolutely anything else. After a few minutes, he sighed.

“Okay. I think I’m good, now.”

You laughed, pulling him off of the couch and pulling on a sweater you’d brought along. You left the common room together, meandering in the halls talking about nothing. Before you knew it, more voices were joining your two in the corridors.

“Oh boy,” you said softly.

“What?”

You looked at James. “You really want to run into our friends right now?”

He hummed, then opened his mouth to speak. Only very briefly, though, as a familiar face came into view.

“James,” Lily beamed, ignoring your presence entirely. “We missed you in Hogsmeade. Why did you stay behind?”

James looked at you, quirking a brow curiously when she said ‘we missed you’. She’d never exactly been in the marauders group during Hogsmeade outings, and both of you knew it.

“Was just busy,” he shrugged.

“Too busy to hang out with us?”

“Who’s ‘us’?” James laughed. “Did you join in with the boys today?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Just… Thought it might be nice if you would have been around so we could have spent some time together.”

You held yourself back from rolling your eyes as she looked at him, twirling her hair almost cartoonishly as she spoke.

“Maybe some other time,” he said simply. “Had more important things to do today.”

“Aw,” she cooed, laughing to herself. “More important than me?”

You chimed in. “Ooh, with an ego like that, maybe you should try spending time with Sirius.”

James snorted a laugh, though Lily didn’t think it was quite so funny.

“At least I’m not hanging off my ex boyfriend.”

You furrowed your brow, ready to throw an insult right back at her.

“Why is that your business?” James said quickly. “We’re still friends. Friends are known to hang out, you know?”

She ripped her sour gaze from you, looking surprised that James would defend you. He didn’t give her time to reply, taking you by the arm and dragging you away from her before you did something he knew you’d regret. You huffed a sigh.

He started walking you towards the kitchens, you were sure, to get you some tea. You crossed your arms when he finally let you go, once again stewing in your annoyance.

“Trouble in paradise?” you asked, seemingly unable to hold your tongue.

“What?”

“Why did you defend me?” you asked. “I thought you and Evans were like… Involved.”

“Why would you think that?” he asked incredulously.

“After everything…” you stopped. “For one, she sure seems to think you’re an item. Or at least that you will be very soon.”

He sighed harshly. “I know you were always on edge about her, but you know I’ve never felt that way.”

“I was right to be on edge.”

“Why? I never would have done anything.”

You shrugged. “Freaked me out how much she liked you. And how much she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes, she does. Her friends all gossip about me, you know? Like I’m just some obstacle standing in the way of you two getting together.”

“I don’t think that’s—”

“I heard it, James.”

He paused before you entered the kitchens, his brow set.

“What do you mean?”

You let out a breath. “Promise you won’t be mad at me?”

He merely raised his brows in question, waiting for your explanation.

“They were talking a few days ago during dinner and thought I couldn’t hear them. They were saying that you’d be easy to bag now that I’m not around and you’re, like… emotionally compromised.”

“Emotionally compromised?”

“Not in those words, but… Yeah. That was the jist of it.”

He shook his head. “Why would they say that?”

“Because she’s always been into you, James. It’s why I didn’t like you guys together all the time, it made me feel really insecure.”

He had the decency to look a little guilty before he perked back up.

“Wait, why would I be mad at you for that?”

You sighed, wishing you could avoid this particular bit about what you’d overheard.

“She, uh,” you looked away. “She was planning on making a move on you today. That’s why her friends were talking about you.”

“And?”

“And, I might have asked you to stay behind today because I knew about her plan.”

The wall to the side of you looked very interesting in that moment. So interesting, in fact, that you didn’t notice the smirk on James’ face until he started speaking.

“You made me stay back to read with you so Lily couldn’t try to… what? Stare at me all afternoon?”

You frowned deeper seeing the teasing look on his face.

“She’d probably try more than staring.”

“Oh? What, like snogging on the couch and letting me feel you up? Didn’t want something like that to happen?”

You smacked his arm. “Asshole.”

He shook his head, tucking you under his arm as he ushered you to the doors.

“Can’t believe you sabotaged her.”

“So you think—”

“I think it’s kinda hot.”

You bit back a smirk, shaking your head. “Shut up.”

Almost two weeks later and you felt more down than ever. After your tea, you’d had another conversation about how you really shouldn’t be alone like that. You knew it was for the best, but it still hurt to reinforce the idea that Sunday would be nothing more than a post-break up slip-up. James himself started to say it was mistake. He only stopped when he saw your face drop, changing his wording, but still meaning the same thing. You tried shaking it off, but you couldn’t stop the memories of how it felt to be under him again.

Though, it turned out that James wasn’t having it any easier.

“What’s been wrong with you, mate?” Remus asked, walking towards his bed.

James turned his head to look at his friend, his cheek still squished into the pillow.

“I don’t know. I just feel awful.”

Remus sat on the edge of his bed. “You’ve been really off the past two weeks. Something happen?”

James shrugged, not responding.

“You know you can talk to us? Better than rotting away in bed all day.”

“I don’t know, Mooney,” James said, shoving his face back into his pillow. “I just miss her.”

Remus huffed a sigh, patting his friend on the back.

“I know you do.” He readjusted his seat on the bed. “Have you talked to her about, well, anything?”

“Yeah, we tried,” James replied, though he knew that it didn’t exactly go to plan when he did. “Doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“Do you want to opt out of the prank tonight? The boys would understand if you didn’t want to be around her.”

“No,” he said quickly, lifting his head. “No. I want to be there.”

“Alright. You’ll have to get out of bed for that, you know?”

James snorted, pushing Remus off his bed.

“Ah, screw off, Moons.”

Remus chuckled to himself. “Dinner is starting soon if you want to eat. She’ll be there, but we can keep you guys apart.”

“I don’t think being apart is helping.”

Remus looked on, disagreeing, but not willing to argue. “Alright. Well, get ready. I’m going to walk over in ten minutes.”

Remus left the room, heading off to wait in common room to give James some privacy. He was leaned against the back of a couch, fiddling with the edge of his sweater, when you slid next to where he stood.

“Hey, Mooney.”

He smiled. “Hey.”

“Are you going to dinner soon? I was thinking of heading down.”

He nodded. “Waiting on Prongs.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “He okay? He wasn’t in Defense Against the Dark Arts today. Not like him to skip that class.”

Remus swallowed. “He’s been a little under the weather.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. He’ll be okay, though.”

You sighed. “Is he coming tonight, still?”

“Mhm,” he nodded. “Just asked him.”

“Okay.”

“Is that… Okay with you?”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He gave you a knowing look, nudging your arm with his own.

“You’ve been a little sad lately. I can tell,” he said quietly. “Think I know why, too.”

You hummed. “I’ll be fine. Just difficult right now.”

“If you ever need anything…”

“I know,” you laughed. “Promise I’ll tell you if I do.”

He smiled, turning back forward and crossing is arms. You waiting in a comfortable silence, though you stood noticeably straighter when James came down the stairs. He stuttered in his steps when he saw you, a shy smile immediately on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Jamie,” you said, returning his smile.

Remus looked between the two of you seemingly in a staring contest for a few seconds before clearing his throat. You both looked at him, clearly a little embarrassed.

“Ready, you two?”

“Yeah,” you said as James merely nodded.

You walked to the great hall in an obviously-tense silence. Remus was starting to regret getting James out of bed, the whole group feeling a little awkward as neither of you could keep your eyes off each other.

“Geez,” Peter started, clearly not reading the room. “You two didn’t stare at each other this much when you were dating.”

Sirius slapped him on the shoulder, shaking his head. You were hoping they’d eat a little faster so that you didn’t have to sit across from James anymore, even though you never minded the view.

Your wish came true, but you weren’t sure if you were in a better position, now. You’d gone back to the boys’ dorm to plan out the prank: turning the black lake blue. What you hadn’t anticipated in this plan was that one of the more uptight prefects would be wandering around the lake when you’d done your magic on it.

You were currently running through the trees, trying to get out of the sight of the boy. Though, at some point James had taken your hand, dragging you behind him. You chocked it up to a force of habit, as you found yourself doing quite often since you’d broken up. But you weren’t sure how much you could blame on habit as he pinned your back against a tree, staring down at you like he was going to kiss you again.

“Jamie—”

“Shh,” he shook his head, bringing a finger to his lips.

You waited in a tension-filled silence, hearing footsteps zoom past, just far enough where you wouldn’t get caught if you stayed still. You stood and listened until you were sure you were in the clear. But James didn’t move.

“He’s gone,” you whispered.

“Yeah.”

“We could go.”

“We could,” he nodded in agreement.

You looked up at him, admiring his features lit up in the moonlight. Your next move you’d blame entirely on gravity. It was magnetic, the way you came together. Neither of your faults, really.

Or so you told yourself.

You kissed him against that tree for far too long, feeling giddy and breathless when you finally pulled away.

“Bad idea,” you stated.

“Really bad idea,” he nodded. “Couldn’t help being alone this time, though. I don’t think it’s our fault.”

You chuckled. “You sound like me.”

“Not a bad thing, I don’t think.”

You shrugged, looking at him with stars in your eyes. You tried thinking of anything to talk about to keep your mouth busy.

“Full moon is coming up.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Mooney started feeling a little sick this morning. Probably’ll get worse the next couple days.”

“Right. You three going with him, again?”

“Yeah,” he nodded again. “You’ll be there to patch us up if we need it, again?”

“Always.”

He smiled, eyes flicking down to your lips again.

“Jamie, don’t do that,” you shook your head.

“Why not? I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know,” you melted a little. “I have too, but if you keep looking at me like that, we won’t just be kissing.”

He raised his brows. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

You chuckled, a smile on his face as he watched you.

“That’s the kind of bad idea I think we couldn’t bounce back from so easily.”

He hummed, jokingly discontent. Though, he did plan on keeping the thought of what could have been in his head for when he was alone. He moved away from you, holding out his hand.

“Let’s go back inside, yeah?”

You nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead you back towards the castle. That Saturday morning he’d come back unscathed from their time during Remus’ transformation. They surprisingly all had, much to your delight. All that had to be down was getting Remus into bed so that he could sleep it off as the morning came around.

You walked into their room that afternoon to find Remus, passed out, tangled up in his blankets. You smiled, leaving a fresh cup of water on his nightstand for when he woke up. All of them seemed to be asleep. It had been a long night.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Remus’ forehead, then turned to leave.

“Y/N?”

You turned back around, replying in a quiet voice. “Oh. Hi, Jamie. Why are you awake?”

“Dunno. Just couldn’t sleep since we got back.”

You hummed. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” he mumbled. “You do the work for potions yet?”

You shook your head. “No. Not yet.”

“Would it be okay if we…” he started asking, looking at you fully as he sat up. “I don’t understand it. I could use some help.”

You smiled softly. “Of course. I can go get my stuff—”

“I could just come with you,” he said quickly. “Don’t want to wake the others, anyway.”

You nodded. “Okay. Yeah, that’s fine.”

He trailed after you sleepily, and you wondered why he’d want to even try to write an essay running on no sleep. It seemed silly at best, and was outright counterproductive.

He sat in your bed, rubbing at his eyes as he tried listening to you explain what you needed to do for the essay.

“Jamie, I don’t think you’re absorbing any of this,” you said with a light laugh.

He cracked a small smile. “Your bed is too comfy. I always wanna fall asleep here.”

You sighed. “Why don’t you take a nap, then? I can finish my essay and help you when you wake up.”

“You sure you don’t want to lay down, too?”

You snorted. “That’s asking for trouble.”

“Just for a little? Promise I’ll do the work later,” he said, giving you wide, pleading eyes. “You always help me sleep better.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

You set aside your work, laying next to him, pulling a blanket over both of you. He smiled as you snuggled into the pillow.

“What?” you asked.

He shrugged, the smile stuck on his face. “Nothing.”

You closed your eyes, feeling his arms pull you into his chest, but choosing not to say anything about it.

You woke half an hour later, and, as promised, James worked on his essay with you.

It became habit. Every Saturday you’d meet up to work on homework. A way to be together without being together. You mostly held back from kissing him, but he couldn’t always say the same. Then, inevitably, every Sunday you’d feel your heartbreak as you’d have the same conversation about how bad of an idea it was to keep doing this every week.

But you couldn’t stop.

Another weekend, another opportunity to pretend like you the study date in James’ room wouldn’t take a turn. You sat across from him on his bed, a book and some parchment in front of you.

“I don’t know why we have to write an essay on centaurs, anyways,” you huffed. “I feel like we’ve already discussed everything we needed to in class.”

James shrugged. “At least it’s only two pages. Could be worse.”

You grumbled your dissent, shutting the book after you’d written only half a page. He looked up at you, a smirk on his lips at your dramatics. He rolled his eyes playfully at you, shutting his own book.

“Alright. Do you want to go over the History of Magic assignment?” he questioned.

“Not particularly.”

“Good,” he said with a breath. “I really didn’t want to either.”

You snorted. “Why’d you ask then?”

He shrugged, moving both bits of parchment and the books off to the side.

“Trying to find a reason not to kiss you.”

You rolled your eyes. “We both know that’s a bad idea.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Hasn’t stopped us before, though, has it?”

You bit back a smile, not moving when he moved closer towards you. He reached a hand up, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip with the rest of his hand resting on your jaw. You watched him carefully, taking in the way his eyes sparkled as he looked at you in the warm lighting.

“Jamie…”

“Tell me you don’t want me to.”

You shook your head. “I can’t say that.”

He nodded, moving even closer, almost waiting for a sign that you’d push him away. That sign never came. He leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours until you took the lead, finally pressing against him. He pulled you into his lap immediately, arms holding you in like he was afraid you’d slip away from him if he didn’t. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand playing with the soft hair at his neck the way he always loved.

He smiled into your kiss, deepening it when you pushed up against him desperately.

Good things never seemed to last, though.

The door swung open suddenly, and you jumped away from James, clearly having been doing something you really shouldn’t have been. Sirius stared at the two of you, a look on his face that you seldom saw from him.

“We were just—” James started, but stopped immediately.

You were just what? There was no way to explain your way out of what Sirius had seen.

He shut the door behind him. Lingering near it with his arms crossed.

“Pads…” you said, unsure what you even wanted to say.

“You’ve got to stop this,” he said plainly, looking between you both. “Whatever this is, it needs to be done. The sneaking around was cute in the beginning, but I’m sick of it, now.”

Your stomach dropped, scooting even further away from where James sat stock-still on the bed.

Sirius sighed. “I love being your friend, both of you. But, Y/N, comforting you every time this happens is insane. Especially when you’re trying to pretend it isn’t because of you two holding on to each other when you clearly think you shouldn’t be.”

You nodded solemnly. He shifted his attention to James.

“I’ve had to listen to you cry yourself to sleep too many times, mate. It’s been months of this. You keep hurting yourselves and each other over and over again, and for what? An easy lay?”

“It’s not like that,” James said quickly.

“Then what is it?” Sirius asked pointedly.

You swallowed, turning to see James look like he was holding back tears as he stared back at his friend.

“I— I love her,” he said breathlessly. “You don’t know what this is like, Sirius. She’s my…”

You found yourself staring at him as he spoke, your heart beating out of your chest. You swallowed with a dry throat, unsure what to do. You felt frozen.

“You both agreed you couldn’t be together anymore, did you not?” Sirius asked, though not without a softness in his tone. “I’m sorry this is hard for you both, I am, but it’s been hard for the rest of us, too. We’re constantly wrapped up in trying to help you both out of this, but you keep going back behind our backs when you know it’s just hurting more.”

“I don’t know what to do,” James said, turning his gaze to you. “I don’t know what to do. I— I don’t know how I’m supposed to just be your friend. I don’t know how I’m supposed to pretend like I’m not in love with you. Like I haven’t imagined marrying you since we were fifteen. I don’t know why you wanted to break up.”

You felt tears sting your eyes. “You said you wanted to, too.”

“I lied,” he exclaimed. “I only said that because I was scared. I didn’t want to admit that I never wanted to leave you when you were telling me you didn’t think I was worth it anymore.”

Your mouth dropped open, tears falling down your cheeks. “I never said that.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut again. Before you had a chance to say anything else, he was launching himself out of bed, pushing past Sirius and out the door.

“Jamie—” you tried, though it fell on deaf ears.

You buried your face in your hands, letting your tears fall. You felt the bed dip next to you, Sirius’ arms curling around you and pulling you in. Your head fell on his shoulder as you cried.

“I didn’t know he didn’t… I thought he wanted things to end. I didn’t know he’s been so upset.”

His hand rubbed on your back. “You’ve both been holding onto this for too long. At this point, do you even want to be broken up?”

“We were always arguing together. The last two months we were together was nothing but going at each other.”

“What about now?”

You wiped your eyes, looking at him. “What do you mean?”

“Do you still think it’s for the best? Because you clearly can’t stay away from each other,” he said, then sighed. “Either you guys need to distance yourselves or get back together. I hate seeing you cry like this.”

“Even if I wanted to be with him, I don’t think it would work.”

“Why not?”

“He wouldn’t want—”

“He just told you he’s in love with you,” Sirius exclaimed. “He never stops talking about you and how much he misses you. He cries himself to sleep over you, and then dreams about you when he finally passes out. Of course he’d want to be with you, don’t be stupid.”

Your eyes widened. “Since when are you mean to me?”

“Since you started talking with no sense. You’re supposed to be the smart one out of all of us.”

You smiled, shaking your head as he laughed.

“Just, quit acting like you two aren’t crazy for each other. You have been since we were kids,” he said, shrugging in disbelief. “You need to talk to him. And I mean talk, not…” he raised a brow.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“You know where he ran off to?”

“Probably that silly tree of his in the courtyard?”

He nodded. “That would be my guess.”

“Thanks, Siri,” you said, hugging him before you stood. “Wish me luck.”

“If either of you comes back crying, this better be the last time,” he said, hiding a smile with raised brows.

“I’ll do my best,” you smiled, leaving the room.

You were right about where he’d be. You walked up to James as he sat on the ground under the tree, staying quiet for a few moments as you breathed in the cold air.

“Why are you here?” he asked, looking straight ahead.

“Sirius talked some sense into me. He’s being surprisingly mature today. It’s scary.”

He nodded. “He does that on occasion.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

He shrugged. “S’fine.”

“It’s not,” you replied, shaking your head. “I keep hurting you, and I hate that. I didn’t know it was that bad for you.”

“How couldn’t you?”

“When we had that conversation, when we broke up, I thought you’d be fine. I was convinced you’d be better off without me, and I thought that maybe we’d be better as friends. We wouldn’t stop arguing over stupid shit.”

“We could have worked it out.”

“We never talked about it.”

He sighed. “I guess.”

You let a silence wash over you for a minute, feeling him moving a little closer to you.

“It’s cold out here. You’re not dressed warm enough.”

“I’m fine. Not cold yet,” you said.

He hummed. “What did Sirius say?”

“Thinks we should either stay away from each other or get back together. Really, he told me those were the two options.”

“So you came out here to let me down easy for the last time?”

You reached out, touching his arm. He looked at you, furrowing his brows. You smiled softly.

“I was actually coming out to see if you hated me. In the hopes that you don’t—”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

His face softened. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. Please.”

“Jamie, I never stopped loving you. I shouldn’t have ever… I wish we would have just talked about everything. I hate not being with you,” you confessed. “Like, shit, James, we started scheduling study dates just to be around each other. I’ve never seen you so passionate about homework.”

He laughed. “It was never the homework I was excited about.”

“Me either.”

He watched you carefully. “You’d… You actually want to try this again? Us?”

“If you’d have me.”

He let out a breath, hands moving to your face as his lips pressed against yours. This time entirely uncaring if anyone saw you. He pulled away, pressing several soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead until you were laughing, pushing him away slightly.

“You really, really mean it?” he asked.

“Obviously we’ll have to talk about this. We need to make sure we actually communicate this time around.”

“Anything for you, love.”

“But yeah, I mean it.”

He smiled brightly. “Evans is gonna be pissed when she sees us snogging in Hogsmeade this weekend.”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter fic #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter x you #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #marauders x reader #marauders #hp fanfic #hp #hp x reader #luna still hates jk

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gojossocks · 6 months

Text

Pathetic

Pairing: AU!Sukuna x reader Genre: angst Content: the title says it all, pathetic ‘kuna core. Sukuna cockblocked himself because he's afraid of commitment :DD a bit of gojo x reader at the end bc y/n deserves love. Wc: 1.2k

“Stop being so pathetic.” He had declared, his words cutting through the air like shards of ice.

But you, ever resolute, had refused to let his harshness deter you. Sukuna knows how much his sentence has hurt you. Your hands were trembling as you reached his, desperately seeking connection. Tears glistened in your eyes, your voice was quivering but you smiled at him through your blurred vision.

“We could work it out right, ‘Kuna?” you implored, your voice soft yet it held so much weight. “Please talk to me. I don’t need anything else! I just need you. We don’t have to get married or anything. I am content just being with you. I love you.”

Sukuna’s gaze remains distant, his eyes fixed on the table behind you. He isn’t looking at you anymore. His response was dispassionate and void of the warmth he used to give you. “It’s not that. I just don’t love you anymore, Y/N.”

He watched you break and he watched you swallow your sobs as you clutched his hand tighter. “That’s okay,” you whispered, your voice desperate, barely more than a breath. “You loved me once, I could make you do it again. Tell me what to change and I’ll change for you, love.”

“I don’t care. I’m leaving.” He pulled his hand away, leaving you alone in your once shared bedroom. He still remembered the sounds of your sobs down the hallway as he walked out of your life.

Sukuna was always sure of himself that day he left you. He had said it so indifferently, so carelessly, as if he didn’t spend years being loved by you. He thought he moved on quite easily— bouncing from one woman to another, getting drunk on his own success, and wasting the rest of his twenties on meaningless connections. The hollowness of it all continued to haunt him.

It’s been half a decade trying to ignore the ache that has been gnawing at his heart. And it wasn’t until he saw you again did the gravity of his actions finally catched up to him.

It was supposed to be your anniversary and Sukuna finds himself pathetically walking into the places you once walked with him. He claimed he forgot about you but his feet always drag him to the remnants of you every year, without fail. He convinced himself it was just a mere coincidence that he walked to the same park where he first hugged you, how you fit right into his arms like you were made exactly for him. He finds himself dining in the restaurant you love so much, and he wonders if you still go there to order your favorite food.

He didn’t want to lay on his bed because he would think about how you used to run your hands through his hair when he’s upset or stressed. He would think about the warmth and comfort radiating out of you when he pulls you closer to him.

He told himself he had forgotten about you when he still hadn't thrown away the polaroid of the two of you, smiling softly as you kissed his cheeks. It was still in his wallet and he never bothered to change the photo. He remembers the way you clung to his arm, excitedly pointing out the changing leaves as autumn envelops the weather. He called you an idiot but you scrunch your nose at him and pulled him to a kiss. He remembers you dragging him into a movie theater to watch a cheesy romantic comedy. He got bored midway but he stayed anyway because he didn’t like seeing the pout on your face.

And he couldn’t rid what you had left him despite not taking any of your belongings when he left. He finds you in his morning coffee, how he drinks it with creamer and sugar because you told him it tasted better. He still gets your favorite laundry detergent every time he shops and he still folds his shirts the way you taught him to.

He thinks of you every sunrise, you once told him it’s a privilege to see the sun come alive right before your eyes and he stays up until morning just so he could pretend he’s seeing it with you.

Why is he mourning over a person who is very much alive?

He lets himself wonder if you think about him too, if you’ve forgiven him. His hands itch to call you to apologize or to ask to see you. He stops himself every time.

In the first year of your break up, he scrolled through your social media accounts to catch a glimpse of your life. You blocked him on everything the following year.

He drowned himself in his vices once more to numb that void you left. And once the party’s over, he would return to his empty mansion, clutching the only relic he has of you— the sweater you left at his place. It didn’t have any traces of your favorite perfume anymore yet he still hung on to it. In those moments, he allowed himself to regret his decision.

What would his life turn out if he told you what was on his mind?

It finally dawned on him when he saw you that day. You were still as radiant and you were smiling just as bright. You still looked like the same woman he walked away from years ago. The same woman he still loves. Only, you looked happier, your joy evident in every step you took. Sukuna watched you emerge from your favorite cafe, holding your coffee in one hand, a ring on your finger. The sight sent a shiver down his spine.

In your arms, cradled tenderly, was a child. Sukuna knew without a doubt that he was yours, the same eyes that had once held his heart were now reflected in your son’s eyes. White strands adorned your son’s hair, and Sukuna suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He had never entertained the thought that he would ever see you with someone who wasn’t him. But now, as he stood there, he couldn’t deny the fact that he had no place in your life anymore.

You had settled down and gotten married to none other than Gojo Satoru.

He watched as your husband approached you, whispering something in your ear that made you giggle and smile harder. He watched as Gojo brushes your hair out of your face, taking your son from your arms so he could hold your hand.

Sukuna watched as Gojo Satoru gave you everything he couldn’t.

It felt like the gods were mocking him. And oh how Sukuna knew he messed up when he saw how you looked at Gojo the way you used to look at him.

It was supposed to be him.

He turned and walked away again before you could see him, paying his last respect to your own peace and happiness. Every step he took felt like daggers into his heart.

It’s pathetic, isn’t it?

wanna read more?

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x reader angst #sukuna x reader angst #sukuna x reader oneshot #sukuna x you oneshot #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader angst #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #sukuna angst

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lolokouhm · 7 months

Text

Could you rail me? pt. 2

Don’t overthink it. Just let go.

Sounds easy, right?

Not for Megumi, no.

Especially with your body in his T-shirt underneath him. On his own bed, in his own bedroom, way after dark, with some faint sound of an autumn playlist that’s been playing for hours now.

Right now, there are two problems.

First of all - he’s not a virgin, but he wouldn’t call himself a sex god either, by no means. It’s not like female pleasure has been some sort of black magic he hasn’t learned - the few girls he’s been with seemed rather satisfied and they even tried to contact him the day after, but he rarely replied. Not that he ghosted them, rather politely suggested that he wasn’t interested in exploring the relationship (or situationship) further. That was the truth - he wasn’t. He couldn’t force himself to do that, it would be simply rude. The girls could be nice, but they just weren’t you. And when the thought pops up in his head, he’s shattered. „Rather satisfied” with you won’t do. It just won’t. You need to see stars. Hell, fucking galaxies - which leads straight to the second problem.

Megumi is pretty sure the moment you touch him he will come. Like, straightaway.

But you don’t mind. Like at all. Because the way he looks at you, so hungry, so messy - it’s so different from his usual IDGAF attire and that honestly turns you on beyond comprehension. You lean in and pull him into a kiss, another one of these incredible ones you’ve shared in the kitchen a few moments ago. These are enough to make you see stars, as his fingers slowly slide down your collarbone.

„Please”, you whimper and he pulls back, startled by your tearful tone. God, you’re so pretty. „Touch me, Megumi. I need you.”

And for the first time in forever, Megumi actually lets go.

He doesn’t hesitate anymore - with a low groan his hands travel under your T-shirt and he closes his eyes when his cold hands finally land on your tits. He leaves a few more kisses on your neck, caressing them gently at first, but getting more and more rougher with every squeeze. They are so soft. He imagined how they would feel many, many times - you’ve even caught him staring once when you went to the beach back in the summer. You made a snarky comment about respectful men being disrespectful, but he brushed it off with such disinterest that you couldn’t possibly know what was going on in his head. But this - this is different. He wants to see them, not in the bikini, not in the bra, and the curiosity wins. He catches the hem of your T-shirt and rolls it up to expose your body, and you don’t even have time to say his name before he’s sucking your left nipple, gently swiping his thumb over the right one.

„Fuck, Megumi. It feels so good.” His tongue is circling over your protruding buds and you’re so impossibly wet that you’re scared you’re actually going to drown. It’s like he’s got some spidey sense or something, because the moment you think about it his hand is already reaching down and grabbing the boxers he gave you. You try to lift your hips to help him, but he’s doing just fine. A silent curse leaves his lips as he feels, on his own fingers, how wet you are and just the sensation makes his head spin. He caresses your clit for a moment, but you really don’t need any additional stimulation. You need him inside. Now.

So that’s what you get. The T-shirt falls back on your breasts as Megumi moves down and slides the boxers off you, full of slick and completely ruined. He hasn’t even taken a single part of his wardrobe yet, he really doesn’t want to stop pleasuring you, no matter how tight his own boxers feel right now - but it’s just too hot, so he finally gets rid of the sweater and you just stare in awe. You’ve seen his bare chest before, but not like that. He’s sculpted in the tastiest way possible.

„Come here.” You suddenly feel his hands on your thighs as he’s dragging you down the bed, just a little bit so your hips are on the verge of the mattress. „Tell me if it feels good, okay? I… I really want you to feel good. So if it’s not it then you need to say it.”

With wide-opened eyes you observe as Megumi gets on his knees in front of the bed, placing your legs on both of his shoulders, and you could swear you’re salivating.

„I’m not the one who has problems with expressing — fuck.” You don’t really have time to think about it any further as you suddenly feel his tongue on your clit - he moves it up and down, slowly and delicately, trying not to overwhelm you with the sensation. „That definitely doesn’t feel bad, oh god. W-why are you laughing?” You could swear you heard him chuckle.

„You’re just so cute” he mutters, slowly sliding his finger inside of you. Your fear is actually becoming reality - if the two of you keep going on like this, Megumi’s going to fucking drown. „And so wet. Oh god.” His voice sounds so hazy and dreamy, as if he wasn’t in his right mind. And maybe he isn’t. You could never imagine him saying these things, but now, with him on his knees in front of you, it’s more than real, even though, at the same time, it isn’t. His left hand is keeping your hips in place, but it’s not the easiest task. Especially with his erection slowly becoming just painful. „And so sweet” he murmurs, and you get the chills - and it’s over. You actually needed his one finger and three compliments to come, and you’re shaking like crazy.

That’s just embarrassing.

But Megumi doesn’t see it. He’s in awe. He’s happier the ever, which is pretty ironic, as that’s exactly what plays in the background right now from his speakers. He makes you ride your orgasm out - it’s messy and it gets you a little scared as Megumi really loves to keep things clean - but it’s different for him. He’s high. He’s pussy drunk, no, scratch that. He’s drunk on you.

You can see that clearly when he’s on top of you again. Not only that - he’s also in pain. And you feel more than determined to help him.

„It’s my turn now”, you whisper, wiggling your way out of his embrace. „You were amazing.” Your hands automatically run to his pants, but before you’re even able to unbuckle his belt, his palm lands on top of your fingers.

„No, (Y/N)…” he mutters, and his gaze is feverish. „If you touch me I’ll come right away.”

„Well, that’s a pity then” you say, still shaking a little from your orgasm. „At least you’ll be coming inside of me.”

Megumi just groans and his head falls back on the pillow as you continue unzipping his pants, getting rid of your t-shirt somewhere in-between.

„Don’t say such things.” You feel a squeeze on your thigh as you’re straddling his ABS, his whole body tense with need. „It’s not helping.”

„Just shut up and be my pillow princess now, okay?” You finally manage to get the pants off him and feel nervous again. You expected him to be big, just not that big. And hard. He squirms when your fingers brush against his leaking tip, and then - well, he’s just a moaning mess. It’s still going better than he expected, he thinks when your lips touch him softly.

„Oh, fuck it, just sit on it. Have some mercy.”

But you don’t. Instead you take him a little bit deeper into your throat and you squeeze his heavy balls, and by that time Megumi’s had enough. The moment his cock leaves your throat he grabs you by the waist and turns you around so you can finally face him. He fixes his position, sitting up and leaning against the bed’s soft headboard, surprising you with his rough movements as you wiggle on his lap.

„I told you” he whispers, fingers sliding from your sweaty forehead to your parted lips. He throws his head back the moment you take his thumb into your own mouth and suck it. „Have some mercy on me.”

And even though you’d love to play with him more, you just cannot stand the way he looks at you. Like he’s begging. Maybe he really is?

So you do it.

He still holds you, when you painfully slowly slide down his cock, your walls hugging him so tightly that he’s going insane.

„Fuck” he whimpers. „I didn’t know you’d be so tight.”

„I didn’t know you’d be so talkative”, you purr before leaning in for a kiss. He’s stretching you so much that now you’re grateful for your embarrassing wetness - if you weren’t leaking, you’d have a problem fitting him inside.

„Are you all right?” he asks, but he already looks so fucked out that the question is just adorable. You finally move, and his head falls back with a moan. „Oh fuck.”

„You need to stop cursing” you whine, trying to set a tempo and then follow it, but your legs feel like jelly. You begin bouncing on him and you’re really grateful for being on top, just for the view - Megumi’s breathtaking. And surprisingly loud. He moans when he sucks your nipples, incredibly sensitive by now and as his fingers brush your clit again, your ability to think logically is completely gone. You chase your next high and then he suddenly stops, grabs you and now he’s on top again, thrusting into you and caressing your pussy in slow, deep strokes. He’s so close, but it’s like a challenge he’s not going to lose - you need to come first, and you need to come on his cock. Megumi is stubborn.

He’s really close to losing, but he perseveres yet again, just to fall apart right after you - your walls squeezing him like that is simply too much for him to handle. Both of you are a moaning, groaning mess as he squeezes your hand so tight you’re definitely getting some bruises from that. Despite being harsh, his touch is full of pure passion and it feels weirdly safe.

His thrusts get more and more sloppier as he’s emptying in you, and it takes a while - you’ve overstimulated him a little too much. After a few final strokes, Megumi’s body finally falls heavy on yours. He should probably pull out, but as his cum is slowly leaking and dripping down the sheets, none of you care. You’re too tired to even move a limb.

„It’s a mess.” That’s a fact, and you just state it. His body against yours. His bed. Your relationship.

„Yeah.” Megumi nuzzles into your neck as his fingers intertwine with yours, yet again. „But I guess I could live with that.”

masterlist ❤️

#I NEED HIM #megumi smut #Megumi x reader #Megumi x reader smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #Megumi drabble #fushiguro smut #fushiguro megumi

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gojoluvs · 16 days

Text

Forever yours.

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

Summary, The only reason why you even agreed to marry him was for your father. Now you wish you could go back in time and reject the offer.

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating, mean gojo,

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message also sorry any of the spelling errors.

9k words

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It had been a few months since then, going to your honeymoon on July, and now it was November with Thanksgiving just around the corner. The autumn leaves were turning shades of red, orange, and yellow, reminding you of the honeymoon you and your spouse had taken just a few months ago.

Despite the fact that you and Satoru had been married for quite some time now, your relationship seemed to be stuck in a rut. He continued to ignore you, never joining you for dinner or spending time with you in the large mansion you had moved into. It was as if nothing had changed between the two of you.

You couldn't help but feel anxious and nervous as you waited for the results. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions for the past few months, with Satoru's constant reminders and tracking of your ovulation and periods. Now, all you could do was wait for the pregnancy test to give you the answer you were desperately hoping for, or dreading.

The anxiety and fear of a potential pregnancy weighed heavily on your mind as you waited for the results. You couldn't help but think about how your life would change if the test turned out positive. Would you be ready for motherhood? Would Satoru be ready to become a father? You hated to admit it but deep down you were hoping for a negative result.

As you stared at the calendar, your eyes scanned over the days until they finally landed on one that stood out to you. "Most likely to get pregnant." The bright red letters seemed to jump off the page, catching your attention and bringing back vivid memories.

You remembered that day so clearly - coming home from a family party with Satoru, feeling hurt and insulted by his words and actions, yet still unable to resist him when he made love to you. It was a painful reminder of the complicated and toxic dynamic between the two of you.

Despite spending a significant amount of time with him, you couldn't help but feel like there was a lack of connection between the two of you. There were days when it seemed like he was just tolerating your presence, and on other days, he would completely ignore you. Your hands would often tremble in his presence, and you couldn't understand why. Perhaps it was the feeling of uncertainty and unease that he brought to the table, leaving you with an unsettling feeling whenever you were around him.

The thought of Satoru being the father of your child filled you with dread and anxiety. You couldn't help but feel sick to your stomach, unsure if it was from the potential pregnancy or the overwhelming emotions you were experiencing.

The idea of bringing a child into a world of parents who despised each other was overwhelming and you couldn't help but question if this was really the best option for you and your child.

There was one major secret you hadn’t told your husband. Most of the women in your family, including your mother, had suffered from fertility issues. Your mother had experienced three miscarriages, and it was a common occurrence for babies in your family to not make it past the first trimester of pregnancy.

The fear of not being able to have a child of your own consumed your every thought. You were too afraid to go for testing and receive a definitive answer. Your mind raced with all the possible outcomes and you couldn't sit still, pacing back and forth from your room.

The thumps of your sole foot could be heard, a physical manifestation of your anxiety. You were so anxious, you wanted to scream and rip out your hair in frustration.

Once, only once in your life you had actually went to go test your fertility. Once you had gotten the results back you were too afraid to look at them. At the time Toji was still your boyfriend, he had reassured you that he didn’t care if you were infertile or not because all he cared was that he had you.

So you did what most people would do, you threw the dumb envelope away and never thought about it since. But yet the thought came to mind now. How would satoru react about this?

Your mind wandered to the contract you had signed with him. It was a business marriage, a union of convenience. You had no love for each other, no emotional connection. The only thing you could provide for him was your body, your uterus, and the ability to bear his child.

You were nothing but a means to an end, a tool in his pursuit of success. You ran your fingers through your hair, feeling trapped and suffocated in this loveless arrangement. Suddenly, the loud sound of your alarm going off startled you out of your thoughts, reminding you of the reality you were living in.

Your hand trembled as you slowly walked towards your drawer, where the pregnancy test awaited. Your heart practically jumping out of your chest with each step. You hated to admit it, but you really did hope the test would come back negative.

The thought of being pregnant at this point in your life was terrifying. You reached for the test, your hand shaking as you turned it over to look at the result. For a moment, the whole world seemed to stop moving. It was like those dramatic scenes in a movie when a character finds out something life-changing.

You held your breath as you stared at the small window, waiting for the result to appear.

You let out a deep sigh of relief, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared at the negative test in your hand. The weight of anxiety and fear lifted off your shoulders, and for a brief moment, you felt a sense of pure joy and happiness.

You couldn't believe you had finally received the answer you had been hoping for. Suddenly, the urge to celebrate overwhelmed you, and you wanted nothing more than to jump up and down in excitement.

But as you were about to do so, your bedroom door flew open, and your tall, white-haired husband stormed in, his expensive Christian Louboutin shoes making a loud thumping noise on the hardwood floor. Immediately, your celebration came to an end as you braced yourself for whatever was about to come.

Your husband stood before you, unbuttoning the sleeves of his immaculate white dress shirt, his expression unreadable. You knew that something was wrong, and your moment of relief was quickly replaced with a sense of dread.

You felt a wave of panic wash over you as you hastily shoved the pregnancy test into one of your drawers. Turning around, you put on a smile and walked towards your husband, helping him out of his suit and hanging it neatly in your closet.

Your heart sank as you noticed the stained red lipstick on the neckline of his suit. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as you remembered that Jiyuu was one of his representatives in his business. You forced a smile and asked, "How was work?" trying to hide your true emotions.

You pursed your lips, a hint of disappointment evident on your face. "It was good," he said, noticing your reaction as you hung the suit up.

You silently walked back towards the room, Satoru was shirtless, rummaging through his closet for a shirt to wear. You couldn't help but admire his toned physique and the way his muscles flexed as he searched for a shirt.

Your mind wandered, imagining what it would feel like to run your hands over his chest. You quickly shook the thought from your mind, reminding yourself that he care for you.

"That's nice," you said with a small smile, feeling a twinge of nervousness as you bit the inside of your cheek.

You knew you shouldn't be pushing his buttons, let alone asking about his lover, but you just couldn't take it anymore. The anxious nights of awaiting his arrival, only to have him come home late or not at all, were taking a toll on you.

There were days where you couldn't even sleep without him by your side, and the constant worry and doubt were consuming your thoughts.

Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from asking about his whereabouts and who he was with, hoping for some reassurance or closure. But each time, the conversation just ended in more frustration and heartache.

“Satoru?” You felt a pang of jealousy and anger as you watched Satoru dress himself, trying to hide the evidence of his infidelity. His back, strong and toned from his workouts, was a reminder of how attractive he was to other women.

You couldn't help but notice the hickies on his neck, the scent of Burberry her perfume lingering in the air, and the red lipstick stains on his collar. You were tired of pretending not to see these signs of his unfaithfulness, but you couldn't bring yourself to confront him about it.

You hated how he made you feel insecure and unworthy, but you couldn't seem to walk away from him either. The constant inner turmoil was draining and exhausting, but you were willing to endure it for a chance to be with him.

He hummed, turning to face you. You felt the anger bubbling up inside of you as you looked at him, his casual demeanor and nonchalant attitude driving you insane. “Are you still seeing Jiyuu?” Your fists clenched at your sides as you resisted the urge to lash out at him.

His nonchalant attitude towards your feelings only added fuel to the fire, making you want to punch him even more. You could feel the hurt and betrayal in your gaze as you looked at him.

With a defeated sigh, his words stung as he spoke, "There's no reason for me to lie anymore. Jiyuu, she's the woman I love. Not you." His tone was harsh and final as he turned and walked away, leaving you to process the heart-wrenching truth.

The realization that you were not the one he loved, despite all your efforts, was a hard pill to swallow.

You followed him, feeling a surge of anger and betrayal. You couldn't believe he was with her again. He always seemed to have an excuse, whether it was work or hanging out with friends, but you knew the truth.

Your gut told you that he was always with her, and the evidence was becoming harder to ignore. You couldn't understand why he would continue to lie and break your trust.

"Stop pretending you care, stop trying to love me Y/N. All you're going to do is make things worse," he said with a resigned sigh. You were taken aback by his words, feeling like you had been punched in the gut.

You wanted to break down and cry, but you knew it would only push him away further. You couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to be comforted by him, to have him hold you and tell you everything would be okay.

But deep down, you knew that would never happen.

"Please," he began, his voice filled with hesitation as he turned to walk away from you once again. The irony was not lost on you - it seemed that everyone in your life had a tendency to walk away from you. Whether it was a friend, a family member, or a romantic partner, it always ended the same way.

You hated the feeling of begging and appearing so desperate. It made you feel small and unworthy, especially when you had to plead with your own husband. "Please Satoru, we're married. Can't you spare some time for me?" you would say, hoping for a glimmer of attention or affection.

The man's long, veiny hand ran through his shock of white hair as he licked his lips, his face coming dangerously close to yours. You could feel his hot breath on your skin as he spoke. "Fine," he growled. "My friends are going to a cabin this weekend." The intensity of his gaze made you feel uneasy.

Your eyes glimmered, a cabin. You always wanted to go to a cabin, one with snow. “Just me and you?” He nodded before slamming the door.

Why?

Why did the world have to be so cruel to you?

As you walked along the coastline, you could feel a gentle caress on your skin as the warm sand touched your feet. The grainy texture of the sand added a dimension of realism that heightened your sensory experience. The sensation of moving through the fine-grained sand was both soothing and invigorating, evoking a sense of tranquility and connection with the natural world.

The sand beneath your feet had a texture that was both soft and coarse. It felt comfortable as it massaged the soles of your feet, but it also provided a sturdy base that supported you as you walked.

He stood there, his hair flowing gently in the wind. The gusty breeze rushed through his face, causing his eyes to flutter slightly.

"Toji?" you called out, your voice filled with a mixture of excitement and concern.

Toji's face lit up when he saw you, a smile spreading across his face. He took a few steps towards you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"Hey," he said, his voice echoing in the silence of the open field.

You ran to him, throwing your hands behind his neck, holding him so tight you felt his heartbeat through his chest. The feeling of his warm embrace brought tears to your eyes as you realized how much you had missed him. In that moment, nothing else mattered except being in his arms and feeling his love.

what did you do to deserve this?

A shiver ran down your spine as his hand gently touched your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours. You couldn't help but get lost in his intense gaze, his dark blue eyes seeming to look into the depths of your soul.

It felt so real.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice full of emotion as he looked at you with such tenderness. His hands, rough from years of hard work, gently caressed your skin, making your heart swell with love for him. Tears formed in your eyes as you realized how much you wanted this life with him, full of love and happiness.

The thought of him moving on and finding someone else to share his life with was unbearable. It was as if a part of you was being ripped away. His touch, his kiss, his presence - it all felt like home to you.

You couldn't imagine anyone else taking your place by his side. You wanted to be the one to spend forever with him, to grow old together and experience all of life's ups and downs by his side. The thought of someone else filling that role was too painful to even consider. You couldn't let him go. He was your soulmate, your other half.

Tears fell down, knowing that one day you would never find someone who loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him.

"You have to let me go Y/N." He pulled away from you. There it was that stupid geniune smile he always gave you. You broke down sobbing on his chest as he held you.

Why did your brain have to do this to you?

He cupped your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. "I promise you, I'll always love you." You shook your head, unable to accept his words

"I don't want to lose you," you cried. "I can't imagine my life without you." He gently wiped away your tears, his expression filled with sadness.

"I know, but it's for the best," he said softly. You didn't want to let him go, but you knew deep down that he was right. You hugged him tighter, trying to hold onto the moment for as long as you could.

"Toji, before I go," You said the sunset casting a golden light on his perfect face. You couldn't help but admire him, even in this bittersweet moment.

"Why couldn't you just stop the wedding?" Your voice cracked as you asked the question, tears welling up in your eyes. "Why didn't you just run away with me?" You couldn't understand why he didn't choose you, why he couldn't see that you were meant to be together.

Your heart ached at the thought of being Satoru's wife instead of his, but you couldn't bring yourself to say it out loud. The pain was too much to bear.

With a heavy heart, he looked at you with a bittersweet smile, gently tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "Y/N, I knew I couldn't stop the wedding because deep down, I know I'll never be able to provide for you as well as he can."

He continued to look at you with a mixture of sadness and love, knowing that he had to let you go. "But I promise to always be there for you, no matter what. You deserve all the happiness in the world and I hope he can give that to you." With one last gentle touch, he turned and walked away, leaving you to contemplate his bittersweet words.

You stood there, his touch still lingering on your skin. The memories of your time together flooded back, each one stinging like a fresh wound. As you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but feel a sense of loss and regret. You whispered, "We almost had it all," knowing that things could have been different if only you had made different choices. But now, as he disappeared from your sight, you knew it was too late.

You were so in love with Toji, and it wasn't just because he was there to heal your heart after the previous relationship left it shattered. It was because he was your true love, the one who knew you better than anyone else. Every morning, he would hold you tightly, cherishing the sight of your bare face and your plump lips.

Even with morning breath, he didn't care because being with you was all that mattered to him. He would always be there to hold you, to kiss you tenderly, and to remind you of just how much you mean to him. Every moment with him felt like a dream come true, and you couldn't imagine your life without him.

However, things quickly changed when you met your now current husband. The arranged marriage ruined everything for you and Toji, destroying the perfect life you had imagined since you first started dating. The apartment, the cat, and the financial stability were all gone, along with the hope of a future together. Now, you are left with a broken heart and shattered dreams..

As you stood frozen on the beach, you could feel your heart shatter into a million pieces. You wanted to scream his name, to beg him to stay, but your voice was lost in the overwhelming pain and shock. With a loud thump, your knees hit the sand, the impact almost jolting you out of your trance.

Your hands instinctively gripped the fabric of your skirt, as if trying to cling onto some sense of stability. And as the tears fell from your eyes, you could feel the weight of your heartache slowly drip down your face.

You awoke, tears streaming down your face. You stared at the laces of your boots. The sound of the wind blowing waking you up. The trip to the cabin was at least 4 hours.

The pounding headache that had not been present when you woke up this morning was now throbbing behind your eyes, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

You were dressed to impress, wearing black flared pants that accentuated your legs, paired with your favorite Chanel boots that added a touch of luxury to your outfit. Your tight red turtle neck hugged your figure perfectly, highlighting your curves in all the right places.

Satoru, on the other hand, opted for a more comfortable yet classy look. He wore a cozy sweater, with a long white t-shirt peeking out underneath. His blue Dickies pants were held up by a stylish Gucci belt.

Your muscles ached from sitting in the same position for hours on end. As you shifted in your seat, you could feel the soreness spreading through your body, making it hard to focus on anything else. Satoru’s black Tucker jacket was stretched on your thighs. Nervously you began to play with the collar.

You wanted to get up and stretch, but the stern expression on Satoru's face made you think twice. You could tell he was deep in thought and didn't want to be disturbed, so you pursed your lips and remained silent.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if things were different. In another universe, perhaps you and Satoru could have a great relationship. Maybe you could even be more than just friends. You couldn't deny the fact that Satoru was incredibly attractive, with his charm and poise only adding to his perfection.

You checked your phone, clicking on the small button for it to turn on. Great, no service. You threw it back inside your purse before looking out the window. The snow continuously falling down as you made your way to your cabin.

Maybe in another life, he had met his true love and they lived a happy life together. Perhaps you both could have had fulfilling relationships with your own partners, instead of being stuck in an unhappy marriage.

As you caught sight of the cabin nestled in the woods, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Multiple cars, all of them expensive models, were parked in the front, giving you a sense of security.

You sat up straighter in your seat, mentally preparing yourself for the meeting ahead, and gathered all your belongings as Satoru expertly parked the car next to a sleek and luxurious Rolls-Royce.

As you stepped out of the car, the cold air nipped at your exposed skin. You shivered and pulled your coat tighter around you, grateful for the warmth it provided.

Satoru, noticing your discomfort, immediately came over to you and took his jacket from your hands, gently putting it on. You smiled gratefully at him as he wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you towards your destination.

As Satoru closed the car door, he reached for your hand, intertwining his long fingers with yours. You felt a sense of security and warmth flood through you as you admired the beauty of the cabin. The snow falling gently around the roof added to the picturesque scene, making it even more enchanting.

"Satoru!" You instantly recognized the voice of the woman. Her long, brown hair swayed as she made her way towards the two of you, a bright smile on her face.

The woman embraced Satoru, pulling him close in a warm hug. As she stepped back, you recognized her as the lady from the party in Santorini. "I'm so glad you could make it," she said with a smile, gesturing for you both to come inside.

"It's freezing out here." You could see her breath in the cold winter air, her words serving as a reminder of the chilly weather outside.

The only thing different about her was the baby bump she was missing. Satoru, with his long and lean figure, walked alongside you as you made your way towards the entrance. His height was quite impressive, making you feel small in comparison. As Shoko beckoned you to join her inside, you eagerly followed, not wanting to waste any time.

As you entered the warm, bustling room, you took a moment to take in the scene. The majority of the guests from the party were already here, chatting and laughing with each other.

You quickly removed your boots, shaking off the snow and placed them by the door. Your feet were cold, so you grabbed your trusty pair of uggs and slipped them on, feeling the warmth and comfort immediately.

As you and Satoru walked inside, you couldn't help but notice the stares of everyone around you. Many of them were his friends, who you had met during your time together. One of them, feeling sympathetic, offered to take your luggage to your room for you.

You gratefully handed it over, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. It was a small gesture, but it meant a lot to you in that moment. You gave him a smile and a word of thanks before turning back to Satoru.

You found yourself comfortably seated on the plush couch. Everyone seemed to be engaged in conversations, their voices blending together in a pleasant symphony. From the couch, you had a clear view of the room, filled with warm lighting and cozy furnishings.

"So Shoko, where exactly is the baby?" Satoru inquired, removing his jacket and draping it over your lap. As he did so, you couldn't help but notice his veiny hands, a common feature of his. He placed his hand on your thigh, the veins popping out even more prominently.

"Hes sleeping but once hes awake your one of the first people he’ll meet," she said with a smile. She got up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen.

Satoru felt a sudden jolt as a hand was placed on his shoulder, causing him to snap his neck in surprise to see who it was. His eyes widened as he recognized the person standing behind him - Geto.

His friend “Getou” was tall, towering over most people he encountered. His long black hair was usually tied back in a ponytail, but today it hung loosely around his face. He was dressed in all black, a black sweatshirt and matching black pants that seemed to be a staple in his wardrobe.

However, his appearance was overshadowed by the noticeable dark circles under his eyes, hinting at the fact that he was having trouble sleeping. He looked tired and worn out, as if he had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Feeling a sense of loneliness, you watched as Satoru quickly got up and left, seemingly forgetting about your existence. As you sat alone, people stopped by to ask about your well-being and how your marriage was going, but it was something you had grown accustomed to.

The constant inquiries and reminders of your failed marriage only added to the feeling of isolation and heartache.

"Y/N!" Surprisingly, you instantly recognized that voice as your college friend. Your heart warmed as you turned to face her, a huge smile spreading across your face. It had been years since you last saw each other, but it felt like no time had passed at all.

As you saw your old friend, "Utahime?", you couldn't help but break into a wide smile. Your cheeks began to hurt from the sheer joy and excitement of seeing her again after so long. You practically jumped into her arms, hugging her tightly.

The familiar scent of her Coco Chanel perfume filled your nostrils, bringing back a flood of memories from your college days together.

"It's been so long!" she exclaimed, her voice full of genuine surprise and delight. She quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, her hands gripping the sides of your arms. "What brings you here?" she asked with a smile.

"I'm actually married now," you replied, a mixture of happiness and nervousness bubbling inside of you.

Her eyes lit up with that familiar look she always gave you, a look that made you feel seen and loved. It was as if no time had passed between the two of you, and you couldn't help but feel grateful to have her in your life.

"It's amazing how life can surprise us," she said as she motioned for you to join her outside. You sat down on the chairs, huddled together by the warm fire. Looking at the stars, she continued, "Out of all the people I met in college, I never would have guessed that you would be the one to settle down so early. You were always the adventurous type, ready to take on the world."

She smiled at you, "But I guess love has a way of changing us, doesn't it?" You smiled back, grateful for her understanding and support. As the fire crackled and the night grew darker, you shared stories and laughs. grateful for the unexpected turn your life had taken.

You talked for what seemed like hours on end, catching up with her felt like a fairytale. She shared all the exciting details of her life over the past few years, including graduating college and finding her dream job.

"So here I am, personally, as a Gynecologist," Utahime said, looking at shoko, who was gently rocking her baby back and forth, who looked up at you with interest.

"And Shoko here is an endocrinologist," she continued, gesturing towards her. “We both have specialized medical knowledge, but in different areas of expertise.”

Shoko got up from her seat and decided to sit next to you and Utahime. "Is that so? I'm so glad everything turned out to be good for you," you said, smiling warmly at Utahime. As you looked at her, you noticed a shift in her facial features. Her previously tense and worried expression had transformed into one of relief and contentment.

As you saw her for the first time in years, you couldn't help but notice the changes in her appearance. Her face had matured, no longer the round and soft baby face you remembered. Instead, she now had a more stern and defined structure, giving her a sense of authority and experience.

Despite the visible scar on her face, she seemed to radiate a glow that only added to her beauty.

The woman spoke softly, her voice filled with genuine concern. "I know how much you and Satoru have been wanting to have a baby," she said, leaning in closer. "As a gynecologist, I have some tips and advice that could help you both. And if you ever need any check-ups or consultations, you are more than welcome to come to my office." Her warm smile and the flickering light from the fire highlighted the purple strands in her hair, making her seem almost ethereal.

"Well, that's the thing," you said, looking at Shoko. "You're an endocrinologist, right?” Shoko nodded, her focus shifting to wrapping her newborn baby in a warmer blanket.

You were nervous and hesitant to ask, but you needed to know. "They're the ones who specialize in hormones," you said, your voice shaky. "Do you also specialize in infertility?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge their reaction.

Utahime and Shoko exchanged a concerned look before turning back to you. Their expressions were serious as they nodded their heads in confirmation. You let out a sigh of relief, grateful that you had found doctors who could help you with your fertility struggles.

"Yes, why? Are you having trouble getting pregnant?" she asked, tilting her head in concern. The fire crackled loudly, each second passing by filled with tension and worry.

"My family has a history of hormone imbalances and fertility problems, and I wanted to get tested to see if I may have inherited these issues. Plus, it would be reassuring to get tested by someone I know and trust," you explained to your friend.

As you spoke, her expression softened and she absentmindedly played with her baby's chubby hands while listening. Her support and understanding made you feel more at ease about the situation.

“Absolutely, you know what. I’ll send Satoru my info-“ you quickly interrupted her.

"No no no," you pleaded, "he cannot know about this. Please." You looked away from her piercing stare, feeling ashamed and afraid that she might go and tell your husband. The secret you were keeping was eating away at you, and the thought of your husband finding out was unbearable.

“Of course, you’re my friend after all. Here,” She grabbed her purse.

"Can you hold him for just a moment?" She asked, handing you her baby. You couldn't resist the urge to reach out and take the little bundle into your arms. He immediately stared at you, his dark brown eyes searching your face curiously.

You couldn't help but smile at the adorable little face looking up at you. "He's so cute," you commented, and the mother beamed with pride. "Thank you, I'm glad you think so. He seems to like you," she replied, noticing how her baby was now reaching out towards you.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and connection with the little one in your arms, even though you had just met. It was a small moment, but it brought a smile to your face and warmed your heart.

As the baby's chubby hands grasped onto your finger and their big eyes looked up at you in innocent wonder, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and joy.

You found yourself gently playing with the baby, making silly faces and noises that made them giggle and coo. In that moment, all your worries and troubles seemed to fade away, replaced by the pure happiness of being in the presence of a child.

As you held the baby in your arms, you couldn't help but think about the possibility of being infertile. The thought of not being able to have a child of your own was heartbreaking. However, in this moment, with the chubby-cheeked baby in your arms, all those worries faded away.

You brought the baby closer, feeling his soft breaths against your skin. As he began playing with your hair, you couldn't help but admire him. He was a spitting image of Shoko, with her almond-shaped eyes and button nose, but he also had features that definitely resembled Geto, like his pale skin and black hair.

“Here you go,” As you thanked the kind woman, she handed you a small card with the name and address of her clinic. You quickly stuffed it into your pants pocket, grateful for the potential help it may offer in the future.

"You know," she said with a playful grin, "if you like him so much you can keep him." She joked, giggling at the face you made. You couldn't help but laugh along with her, knowing she was just teasing you.

"I think I'll pass," you replied, still smiling. "I'd rather just borrow him every once in a while." She rolled her eyes, but her smile never faltered.

The glass door slid open, revealing Satoru and Geto standing on the other side with bottles of beer in their hands. As soon as your husband laid eyes on you and the baby in your arms, his gaze immediately turned to you with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"I'm just kidding Y/N," Shoko said with a laugh, getting up from her seat as the baby started to cry. "Well, that's my cue to give him to his father." She walked over to Satoru and Geto, who were deep in conversation and cracking jokes.

You couldn't help but smile as you heard Satoru's deep and attractive laugh, something you didn't get to hear often. "Looks like I'll have to leave the baby duties to you two," Shoko teased, handing the baby over to Satoru. "But seriously, thank you both for all your help." Satoru and Geto both nodded, Satoru’s face softening as he held the baby in his arms.

"My back is killing me," Shoko groaned, raising her arms above her head as she walked back towards you and Utahime. "I need to relax my muscles," she added, letting out a loud yawn.

"There's a Jacuzzi, you know..." Utahime said with a sly grin, standing up and flipping on the back lights. The entire back area was aluminized, giving it a sleek and futuristic look.

"Wow, this is amazing!" exclaimed Shoko stepping closer to get a better look at the Jacuzzi.

"Right? It's perfect for those cold winter nights," Utahime replied with a playful wink.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as you looked at the huge jacuzzi on the back deck of the vacation rental.

The bubbles were constantly popping and rising to the surface, making it look so inviting. However, you realized that you had forgotten to pack a bathing suit, and there was nothing remotely close to one in your luggage.

You cursed yourself for not double-checking your packing list and felt frustrated that you wouldn't be able to enjoy the relaxing hot tub.

"Well, I'm going up to get my bathing suit because I definitely need to relax in the jacuzzi," shoko said with a frown.

You politely said your goodbyes and slipped away unnoticed into the cabin. As you entered, the cozy atmosphere of the rustic cabin embraced you, providing a welcome respite from the chilly evening air.

The soft glow of the fireplace and the gentle sound of crackling wood immediately put you at ease. You couldn't help but notice the other guests lost in their own thoughts, some reading by the fire, others playing board games at the kitchen table.

Exhaustion finally caught up to you and you let out a tired yawn, rubbing your eyes as you made your way to your room. The warm and comfortable bed awaited you, promising a peaceful night's rest.

The door opened with a small creek, the wodden floor echoing each step you took. You practically stripped yourself off your clothes. Grabbing one of your cozy night gowns you smoothly slid it on.

As you entered the room, the old wooden door creaked open, the sound echoing through the quiet space. The familiar scent of the room enveloped you, bringing a sense of comfort and relaxation.

With each step, the wooden floorboards groaned under your weight. Finally reaching your closet, you couldn't wait to change into something more comfortable. As you stripped off your clothes, you felt the tension of the day slowly dissipate.

Your hand reached for your favorite night gown, the soft fabric sliding smoothly over your skin as you slipped it on, instantly feeling at ease in your own home.

As you settled into the plush queen bed, you couldn't help but notice how dim the room was with the lights off. It was the perfect ambiance for a good night's sleep, and you were grateful for the extra blankets you packed.

The hotel's blankets were thin and barely provided any warmth, but luckily you came prepared. You closed your eyes and let the softness of the bed and the coziness of the blankets lull you into a peaceful slumber.

Satoru didn’t know if it was the alcohol in his system that made him do this or the fact that he genuinely wanted you.

Before getting drunk, he spent the whole night with Getous baby, rocking and playing with him. As he watched you hold the child, he couldn't help but feel a strange flutter in his stomach. Maybe it was the way your hair fell into place, or the pure joy he saw in your face as you interacted with the baby. He couldn't explain this feeling, but it was undeniable. It was in that moment that he realized he was falling for you, and it scared him.

Despite his dislike for alcohol, he found himself in an inebriated state, stumbling up the stairs to your room. He was usually a responsible and controlled individual, but today was different. He was grateful that his phone had little to no service, freeing him from the constant barrage of messages from Jiyuu.

He felt a sense of relief and freedom from her constant demands for his time and attention. However, deep down, he knew that this temporary escape would only lead to more problems in the long run.

He finally made it to the room, carefully navigating his way in the dark. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he stumbled on nothing but air, making sure not to trip over any obstacles in his path. Once he reached his destination, he quickly took off his shoes and closed the restroom door behind him. As he fumbled for the light switch, he could feel the familiar sting of bright light hitting his eyes. He took a moment to recompose his vision before continuing what he was doing.

As he stood in front of the bathroom sink, he turned on the cold water, the sound of it filling the room. He ran his fingers through the water, feeling its coolness against his skin. Taking a deep breath, he momentarily splashed his face with the water, feeling its refreshing touch. He then leaned in closer to the mirror, studying his reflection and the emotions that played across his face.

"Well fuck, I look like shit," he muttered to himself as he caught a glimpse of his tired reflection in the mirror. He had barely gotten any sleep nowadays, the bags under his eyes a testament to his hectic schedule.

Spending most of his nights either working his ass off or going over to Jiyuu's house and well, fucking her brains out. He couldn't deny that the physical release helped him relax and forget about his stress for a little while, but it was taking a toll on his appearance and overall well-being.

Thats all that seemed to happen in his life. Jiyuu would call him late at night for her needs, never once asking him how he was doing. Everything was rough with her, the sex was always aggressive and the kisses were forceful.

Even their relationship was characterized by constant arguments and tension. Every time he tried to talk to her about his feelings, she would brush him off and turn the conversation back to herself. It was clear that she only cared about her own needs and desires, leaving him feeling used and unfulfilled.

He couldn't believe it. As he walked into the bathroom, he saw his toothbrush already in the cup next to the sink. A wave of annoyance washed over him. "Of course," he scoffed, "the perfect little wife you were had to also pack the miserable husband things." But as he thought about it more, he realized that this small act was just another reminder of how much his wife cared for him.

You always made sure he had everything he needed, even if it was just a toothbrush.

As he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, he couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over him. He knew he had treated you poorly, but in his mind, you were the reason for his strained relationship with Jiyuu. He loved her deeply, and the thought of losing her was unbearable.

Without another thought, he turned off the lights and closed the bathroom door, not caring about the freezing temperatures outside. Stripping off his shirt, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he had made a mistake, but he was too stubborn to admit it.

As he gazed at you, the soft glow of the moon enhanced your features, making your skin look radiant and your hair appear to shimmer. The gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed added to your allure, making him wonder how someone could look so effortlessly beautiful even in sleep.

He couldn't help but feel a pull towards you, admiring the peaceful expression on your face and the way your body seemed to fit perfectly into the bed. It was almost as if you were made for this moment, and he couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch you, feeling the warmth of your skin and the gentle rise and fall of your chest beneath his fingertips.

Despite the late hour, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, captivated by the tranquil and alluring image you presented.

The moonlight cascaded over your exposed shoulders and collarbone, highlighting the curves and contours of your body. The strap of your nightgown had slipped off one shoulder, revealing more of your smooth, glowing skin. As he climbed into bed with you, he couldn't help but feel a rush of desire and anticipation. You eagerly wrapped your arms around Satoru, pulling him closer as the warmth of his body enveloped you.

He didn’t know why but here he was rock hard at just staring at your face.

He couldnt resist it anymore, slowly he placed his hand on top of your ass messaging the soft muscle.

Maybe it was the alcohol that made him want to fuck you so bad right now, or it was finally him excepting the fact that you were undeniably beautiful.

However, in this moment, his desire for you was too strong. He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. As he gently shook you, he knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't help himself. Satoru was usually calm and collected, never crossing boundaries with women.

Despite his loyalty to Jiyuu, he had been intimate with other partners in the past. But right now, none of that mattered. All he wanted was you.

Yeah they were attractive and good at sex but yet he never found himself waking them up just to put his cock inside of them.

“mmm,” you opened your eyes, your lips pinker than ever. In this moment Satoru couldn’t sworn that look alone made him cum.

"Shit, can I fuck you?" You were startled to say the least, but a part of you couldn't deny that you wanted this. Raising an eyebrow, you couldn't even form a coherent response before you felt Satoru's lips hungrily press against yours. His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, sending shivers down your spine.

You couldn't help but moan in response, your body betraying your initial shock. Satoru pulled away, a smirk on his lips as he whispered, "I'll take that as a yes." And in that moment, you could practically feel your knees buckle.

Satoru guided his hands across your body, exploring every inch and leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. As he pulled you into another heated kiss, his lips moved with a fiery passion against yours. His hands trailed down to your lower back, giving a gentle squeeze that sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn't help but moan as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. His touch was electric, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't resist.

You could feel your panties getting more wet by the second. His strong hands gripping your body.

"Satoru," you gasped as he continued to trail kisses down your neck, his hands roaming over your body.

"I can't get enough of you," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I want more," he growled, his lips finding yours again as he deepened the kiss.

"Me too," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The two of you were lost in the heat of the moment, unable to resist each other any longer.

As his long fingers trailed down your body, they eventually made their way to your panties. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each passing second, the anticipation of what was to come sending shivers down your spine.

He couldn't help but smirk as he saw just how drenched your panties were, a clear indication of how much you wanted him. Without hesitation, he moved the side of your panties and began to circle his thumb around your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

You couldn't help but arch your back as his cold thumb made contact with your sensitive folds, the sensation only adding to the intense arousal you were feeling.

"You're so wet for me,"Satoru murmured, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he slid two fingers inside of you. Your pussy clenched around them, pleasure coursing through your body.

"Shit Toru.." you moaned, unable to contain yourself as his fingers expertly hit all the right spots. "You have to be quiet," he reminded you, his deep husky voice sending shivers down your spine. His lips found yours, silencing any further noises as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you.

The intensity of his touch and the forbidden nature of the situation only added to your arousal.

Satoru couldn’t deny his attraction towards you, the way you squeezed your eye shut when you were about to cum or the way your eyebrows creased each time he fucked you harder.

"You think I didn't notice you with the baby?" You opened your eyes, struggling to make eye contact with your husband as he continued to finger you.

He pulled his obnoxiously long fingers out of your drenching wet cunt and gave you a wicked smile. "Since you want to pretend to be a mommy so bad, I'll make you one." He unbuckled his pants, his hard cock practically twitching with excitement as he stared down at your pussy.

You couldn't help but feel a little nervous as he positioned himself between your legs. He rubbed his hard long cock on your entrance, biting your lip you moaned as he slowly began to enter you.

"God, you feel so good," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "You're gonna be such a hot mommy," he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine

He began to fuck you, the sound of the bed squeaking and your skin slapping together filled the room. His toned abs flexed every time he entered you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. You felt like you were on cloud 9, completely lost in the moment.

His strong hands gripped your waist tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he thrust into you with a powerful force. Each time his cock filled you, it made you go crazy with ecstasy. You couldn't help but moan and whimper in pleasure as he took you with such intensity.

His dick twitched inside of your pussy, your walls clenching each time he slid in and out of you. "You're so big, Toru," you moaned, your eyes brimming with tears of pleasure. He was so huge, and you loved every inch of him.

His white hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead as he continued to fuck you, his body glistening with sweat. Suddenly, he grabbed one of your legs and swung it over his shoulder, changing the angle and hitting a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

He groaned, making eye contact with you and admiring how beautiful you looked taking in his huge dick. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you, signaling that he was getting close to his release.

"Mmm, babe….your tits are getting so…big," Satoru groaned as he squeezed and massaged your breasts, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. You moaned in response, your hands running through his hair as he trailed wet kisses down your neck.

"I can't wait to see how big they'll get when you're pregnant," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his as he continued to thrust into you with increasing fervor.

"Fuck, Mmm…Satoru," you gasped, the pleasure building inside you.

He chuckled darkly, his hand slipping down to your abdomen. "Just imagine how sexy you'll look with my baby growing inside you," he said, his voice low and husky with desire.

You whimpered as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, your body trembling with pleasure. "Please, Satoru, I need you to cum in me" you begged, your nails digging into his back.

He gave a feral growl in response, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he neared his release. "You're mine, baby," he grunted, his eyes locked on yours. "And I'm gonna make you a mommy." With one final, powerful thrust, he spilled inside you, sending you both over the edge into blissful ecstasy.

His hot semen filled your pussy, your legs twitching before he got off you and layed next to you.

Despite the numerous times you and your husband have had sex, this particular time felt different.

For the first time, there was a real sense of intimacy and connection between the two of you.

ps: had to cut this chapter short but i ended up changing the angsty part for chap 5, gotta give my girl y/n a break for whats about to come…

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