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bratbby333 · 8 days

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i will possess your heart – satoru gojo

-this story contains very heavy nsfw content! please read at your own discretion!-

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 content warnings dead dove fic- heavy stalking, violent obsession, manipulation, forced voyeurism, forced exhibition, drugging, mentions of blood, knives, use of restraints, plot twist, dub-con 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 synopsis for as cocky as Satoru is, it’s oddly fitting. in his mind, everything belongs to him, including you. 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 word count 8k

Satoru fumbled with a tripod as he positioned his camera onto the stand and proceeded to hit record. He was thorough, making sure his chair was perfectly centered before he sat down, staring at himself in the viewfinder while he fussed with his hair, inhaling deeply. A wide grin cut across his face before dropping back into lackluster neutrality. He looked down at his lap, his fingers ran up and down his denim-clad thighs. He snapped back onto the camera blank-faced before a deranged smile pulled at his cheeks.

Click

January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point. I’m plagued by the shadows, my entire life enshrouded in darkness. I don’t remember what things were like before. Day by day, it’s all the same. I cannot escape it—this anchoring feeling of despair. The emptiness eats away at me. I’m in search of release…of some sort of freedom from this pain. I need to fill my life with meaning, to find purpose in this accursed world…I think I’ll go out for coffee today. People watching brings me so much joy. They seem to live much happier lives than me.

Click

January 16th, 6:38 PM

My daydreams must’ve blended into reality because there was no way I created someone as beautiful as she was outside my imagination. I’m certain of it. She was sitting at the bar of the cafe down the street from my apartment, dressed in business casual—she probably works nearby. How kismet. The coffee was bland, as were most things in my life, but she awoke something in me. I hope I see her again. She somehow managed to clear the cobwebs around my heart. I think my life has finally found purpose. She is my driving force. I wonder what her name is.

Click

January 19th, 6:11 AM

Feeling well-rested today. Four hours of sleep is my new record. I plan to go to the coffee shop again. Back to the place where my eyes were first blessed with the mirage of her…where I first fell in love. I hope she’s there. People are so fun to observe when they don’t think they’re being watched…it’s simple psychology. The Hawthorne Effect. When humans notice they are under observation, they change. So inauthentic. But her? She never notices. She sits so obliviously, allowing me to take her in with ease. So good to me. She’s a breath of fresh air. I hope to work up the courage to speak to her soon. My heart soars at the mere thought of being in her presence once again. It’s so refreshing to feel something after all this time. I’ve been numb for so long, but she has set my heart on fire. She is everything to me, my sole purpose for existence.

Click

January 19th, 8:27 PM

I saw her again today. She didn’t see me. Just how I like it. She typed away on her computer like normal…she’s a hard worker, it seems. Driven and strong. And here I was thinking such beauty was a thing of legend. It's refreshing to have been proved wrong–that rarely happens. Oh, how I crave her. I know she’d make me feel whole again. She can save me from all this, I can feel it.

Click

January 23rd, 5:13 AM

Only two hours of sleep tonight. But, for some reason, I feel better than ever… I normally do when I find a reason for living, again. It’s her…it must be because of her. She keeps me going; my muse, my inspiration. She’s worked wonders on me already and she doesn’t even know it, yet. I’m going to the cafe again today, I cannot wait to see her. Maybe today I will finally speak to her.

Click

January 23rd, 9:53 PM

She never showed up today…I wonder what’s going on. Maybe she had other things to do. It’s fine, really. I’m annoyed, honestly. I waited around all day. I’ll keep checking until I see her again.

Click

January 28th, 7:06 PM

My sweet girl has gone missing. I haven’t seen her in quite some time now. This is just ridiculous. The woman I love…is she avoiding me? No, no that cannot be.

Click

February 2nd, 8:31 AM

I haven’t slept well in days. I’ve been awake for twenty six hours now…my mind feels like it’s filled with static and yet, I feel sharper than ever. I’ve gone to the cafe every day. Still no sign of her. I’m slipping back into my old ways, the darkness is going to return any moment. I’ve begun to hear the laughter in the shadows again. They’re making fun of me, I just know it. I need her…oh, I need her so bad. How could she do this to me? Does she not know how much I suffer when she’s not around? If I don’t see her again soon, I will never recover.

Click

February 5th, 6:21 PM

I finally saw her again today. My heartrate spiked and I nearly leaped from my seat to kiss her, to hold her, sway her side to side in a deep hug. Instead, I slipped a tracker into her purse as I walked by her chair. I must know where she works, where she lives, and what she enjoys in her free time. She slipped away from me so easily…can’t let that happen again. I need to know every little thing about her. She is my one and only after all. It would be ridiculous to love someone so deeply and know nothing about them. She is too beautiful, I cannot let her wander around unsupervised. There are some crazy people out there—you never know what could happen. I can’t lose her. I must keep her safe. I will possess her heart. No one else can have her but me.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru observed her for months, shadowing her all around town. He knew the woman’s routine like the back of his hand, before he ever learned her name. Sunday’s she went grocery shopping, Monday after work was her pilates class, every couple of Thursday’s she was at the nail salon, and Friday’s were seemingly payday–he picked up on her pattern of going out to nice restaurants every other week. Satoru eventually got an upper-level management position at a company that shared the office building with her job–he is incredibly intelligent and overqualified, after all; they would be foolish to not hire him. Now he could really keep an eye on her.

That was when he finally learned her name–the two of them taking the same elevator. She didn’t recognize him as the man who seemingly had the same routine as her–it’s one of the many reasons why Satoru loved her so much: her naivety. She looked into his eyes for the first time that day, her voice was soft and angelic, and the name that fell from her lips sent waves through Satoru’s body, the same name that would now be coupled with his gasping moans every evening as he stroked himself to the thought of her.

With Satoru’s new job that brought him one step closer to her, he knew he could no longer watch her in the way he used to. His movements had to be more calculated, putting more distance between them than he normally would or hiding behind the deep tint of his car windows. If she saw his face too frequently, she surely would have caught on. Satoru smiled at the possibility of her never catching on…how she’d greet him with a smile and a friendly hug each time they “coincidentally” bumped into one another, giggling about their lives' odd synchronicities. Such a sweet girl. If only she knew.

He stopped into her job, a small gift bag hanging off his slender fingers, desperate to watch her eyes light up with the sweet gesture of an unexpected gift. He asked to see her, only to be informed by the receptionist that she had the day off.

It was no worry, he didn’t let that dull his excitement. “I’m a friend of hers, brought this in to surprise her. Do you mind showing me to her desk, I’ll just leave it there for her when she returns to work,” he said kindly. The lady working the front desk blushed under his piercing gaze and handsome features, nodding shyly and walking him to his lover’s designated area.

Satoru thanked her, stepping into the cubicle to place his gift by her computer. His eyes glazed over her workspace. It was decorated with trinkets and family photos. He picked one up, his thumb tracing over her face. His pretty girl. That smile could bring about world peace; it definitely quieted the angered voices in his head. He scanned her desk, a moment of envy shooting through him at the thought of her dainty fingers dancing over the keyboard rather than tangling in his hair. He groaned internally, looking over his shoulder to ensure no one was around, before ducking down, rummaging through his beloved’s drawers. Stowed away in the bottom of the unit was a fuzzy, white cardigan. He brought the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply, stifling the filthy moan that nearly echoed through the cubicle. He quickly tucked it into his jacket, took one last look around, and headed toward the exit.

In the safety of his vehicle, Satoru whipped the clothing out from under his wing, bringing it to his face once more. He undid his belt buckle with haste, shoving his dress slacks halfway down his thighs before his large fist swaddled his cock with the fuzzy white cardigan. He nearly sobbed at the contact, the smell of his car filling with her beautifully floral perfume. He brought the free edge up to his nose, taking another whiff as his hand worked furiously against his shaft. He had never finished so quickly in his life, staggered whimpers and choked moans fell from his parted lips as fat ropes shot up onto his abs and chest. His cheeks were flustered a violent red as he wiped his sticky shame away with her top. After he came, then did his clarity, and Satoru’s body ached with the thought of how good it would feel to finally be sheathed within her sticky walls, rather than her soft clothing. I’ll be with you soon. Soon, my love.

These feelings were getting unbearable. His overactive brain had him teetering on the edge of insanity. He needed more. His imagination was no longer enough to satiate the hunger that gnawed so deeply in his core, the distanced watching and hopeless longing for the love of his life created jagged rifts in his already damaged psyche. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take. A few deep breaths and the promise he made to himself to take action soon quelled his burning desire. But for how much longer could Satoru repress the demon that clawed through his body?

Satoru surveyed her while she ran to the bank, walked her dog, or took her car to the wash. But his most favorite place to watch her was from the bench just outside her bedroom window, engulfed in darkness. Pretty girl lived on the second floor, her silly little brain assumed she didn’t need curtains. She never saw him, but he always saw her. All of her. Drinking in the way her clothes were delicately removed from her pretty little frame, the way she turned and posed in the mirror–so good to him. How her skin glistened after she got out of the shower, the water droplets running along her body in the same way Satoru wanted to.

He fell into a state of bliss, feeling spoiled by the show he was getting tonight. The lotion that she worked into her body, the beautiful set of lingerie that she dawned. His eyes buzzed around his sockets, elation flooding through him. Gorgeous, gorgeous girl. But his body went rigid and his jaw locked tight at the appearance of another man behind the love of his life. He sat upright, shoulders stiff and heart pounding in his ears at the thought of his sweet being in danger, he cursed himself for not being more aware of her surroundings on her behalf. But when his darling girl turned to the unknown man with a smile, greeting him with a gentle kiss with the lips that were supposed to be just for Satoru, his heart shattered into a million pieces.

Oh, no. This just won’t do, my love. You are mine.

Jealousy coursed through his veins while he looked into her room, rage balled in his fists as he watched a random man have her in the one way Satoru couldn’t. Not yet, at least. He must’ve been new in her life, judging by the way his nervous hands explored every part of her skin. Satoru laughed at this–he knew he could please his woman so much better. But betrayal nipped at the back of his neck; how could she do this to him? Had his loyalty fallen on unappreciative shoulders? No, that couldn’t be. Satoru knew she was better than that, he picked her for a reason, after all. She was just playing hard to get.

You rejected my advances and desperate pleas, and now you throw your relationship in my face. It’s punishment enough that I can’t have you, but I won't let you let me down so easily.

Feeling at a loss, swallowed whole by his hungered desperation, he did what any rational person would. He moved in next door.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Satoru Gojo was your next-door neighbor. He moved in only a few months after you did. You were elated, chalking it up to a lucky roll of the dice that you had met by chance at your job; he had started working for the company that shared the office park with yours. It really seemed like things were on the come-up for you. He was kind, confidently intuitive, funny, and supportive. Mildly egotistical, but it worked for him. He always invited you over for dinner and movie nights and was a strong, dependable shoulder for you to cry on. You had just moved to the city, feeling utterly lost and absolutely gutted about being so far from your support systems now, and he was your first friend. You felt safe knowing he was just a wall away.

On a random Sunday, you opened your front door to see all the food you loved sitting at your doorstep–weird, you were just about to leave for the store. You turned your head, seeing Satoru peeking out from his cracked door, grinning at you.

“Was this you, Satoru? You didn’t have to…this is incredibly thoughtful,” you beamed, stepping over the grocery bags to give him a tight hug. “You’re the best, I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” But Satoru did, he knew exactly what you could do for him.

When you needed a ride to work, he jumped in to save you. The two of you worked in the same building after all. It was a crazy coincidence that your new neighbor turned best friend worked just a few floors above you. It’s such a small world, isn’t it? But it worked out perfectly for the two of you.

There was a month where you were short on rent, and there was Satoru, paying the rest on your behalf.

You weren’t catching on. Sweet, naive girl. Oh, how he loved you. I need to work harder to get her attention.

Satoru was not a patient man, but for you, he would do anything and everything to get you right where he wanted you, expertly playing the long game. It began with the fated sighting of you sitting in a cafe, and snowballed into something bigger. At first, he only ever observed you, maybe the minor occasion of overstepping, but as time went on, he couldn’t sit idly by. It was time to make his move.

His disruptions in your life started inconspicuously. Leaving for a date? You found your car tires slashed and windows shattered in the parking deck. Now there’s a police investigation. Bummer…gotta cancel the date. Had a guy over? Satoru’s apartment flooded. Weird… that was the second time this month.

“You gotta talk to the landlord about this, ‘Toru,” you sighed. He had to stay at yours that evening.

You cried on his shoulder, telling him that some guy stood you up on a date you had been anticipating for weeks. There was an electrical fire in that man’s apartment that night. Must’ve been faulty wiring...or something.

His apartment flooded again. He was back at your door. You welcomed him with open arms, of course. He’s so good to you, the least you could do is help him out, as well.

Satoru, you’re slipping. That’s too many times in one month. Ease up or she’ll catch on.

Friday night, in a wild happenstance, he bumped into you while you were out with another man, enjoying a nice dinner together. He smiled warmly at the two of you, before politely dismissing himself. His cheery smile dropped into a demented grin once he stepped out of the restaurant as he anonymously called in a bomb threat to the establishment. You were so shaken up at the entire ordeal you practically begged Satoru to stay with you that night. He’d be a fool to turn you down.

Satoru got everything he wanted. You were just a tough nut to crack, is all. No big deal. He loved a challenge. After all, how could you not love him by now?

But nothing was working. You couldn’t catch the hint, even with everything he threw at you. He was always the one there for you, even when you weren’t aware of it. What more could he do to prove that he was the only person you needed? I’m reliable, witty, and loving… how can she not see this? He finally snapped. The last straw? Hearing your pleasure-filled cries while getting fucked by another man, your “boyfriend”. The lewd sounds ricocheted around your room, shooting through the thin walls of your apartment and straight into his listening ears.

Tsk, tsk. Now you’ve done it. Always been such a tease.

For as cocky as he was, it’s oddly fitting. In his mind, everything belonged to him, including you. And with that, his demented plan was in full effect. He had hoped to spare you, prayed that you would fall in love with him before he lost his composure completely. But your sweet, naive nature had proved to be a difficult wall to break down.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The sound of your front door’s lock disengaging echoed through the empty hallway. Satoru stepped in, inhaling deeply as he shoved your house key into his back pocket. It was far easier to gain access into your home than he had originally anticipated; he was fully prepared to break in, but all he had to do was tell your landlord you went out of town and you forgot to leave a key with him before you left. The manager of your apartment complex knew how close you and Satoru were, so it was an easy lie to tell. But it couldn’t have been further from the truth. You weren’t out of town, he wasn’t house sitting, and you had no intentions of having company this evening.

Seated at your desk, he opened your laptop and navigated his way to your iMessage settings, ensuring you could only send and receive texts from your laptop. Clicking on the messaging app, he stifled the gag that threatened to escape his throat as he clicked on the thread between you and your boyfriend, his contact name “my love” in your phone. He rolled his eyes, before drafting a quick text:

-Hey, baby. I have a half-day at work today…dinner and wine at my place tonight? ;)

He grinned at the quickness of your boyfriend’s response.

-I would love that. What time, my love?

Satoru scoffed at the pet name. He doesn’t deserve to call you that. Poor bastard needed to learn his place. Heat rose in his chest, jealousy emanating through his skin as he crafted his response.

-3pm…Can’t wait to see you.

Everything was going according to plan. Satoru glanced at the clock beside him: 11:17 AM. It was time to get set up, he had a big day planned for you, and his first guest would be arriving in a few short hours.

A knock rang through the apartment as Satoru finished lighting his final candle. He smiled wide, sauntering over to the door. He swung it open, grinning politely at your boyfriend. “...Hey, man…didn’t expect to see you here…” he said warily as Satoru stood to the side and gestured him in, a quizzical look painted on your partner’s face as he stepped through the doorway. The door shut and the lock was reengaged. “Where’s…” but before he could get his question out, his chin was met with Satoru’s right fist.

Satoru made quick work of dragging his body upstairs. He dug through the unconscious man’s pants, pulling out his cellphone. Satoru was disgusted to see that you were his lockscreen. This pitiful man wasn’t worthy enough to be with you. He rolled his eyes, unlocking the man’s phone and sending you a text:

-Hey, beautiful. Come straight home tonight. I’m making dinner for us. See you when you get off work.

You smiled at the familiar ding of your phone, the notification effectively distracting you from your tedious paperwork. Your heart soared at the message, sighing deeply and shifting your weight around in your office chair. Your hand rubbed at your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks.

“What is it?” your coworker asked.

“Oh, nothing. I thought my boyfriend forgot our anniversary cause I hadn’t heard from him all day…but he just texted me saying he’s at my place and is making dinner for us tonight.” A giddy smile couldn’t help but drag across your face.

Satoru looked at the clock: 3:28 PM. You would be home in an hour or so. Just a few more things had to be done, everything had to be perfect.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Your heart rate spiked as you got closer to your apartment door, keys jingling against your palm as you fumbled with the lock, excitement making your movements a bit clumsier than usual. You entered and kicked off your heels, and as you turned to toss your keys onto the small table in your foyer, you noticed a small card that said “Read Me” placed perfectly in the center of the tray. You were perplexed as your eyes scanned over the note. “Go to the living room” was all it said.

You blushed, a nervous smile pulling at the edge of your lips as you crept to the other room. Your eyes went wide at the sight; deep red roses were placed in the center of the coffee table and every accessible surface around the couch was adorned with beautifully flickering candles. Another note was on the table, your fingers fumbled with the edge of the card as you opened it: “Have a seat, take a sip, and press play.” You settled on the couch, noticing a glass of alluring red wine to the right of the roses. You took a few deep, fulfilling swigs of your drink before grabbing the TV remote. Your face twisted a bit, examining the glass in your hand, the flavor of wine different than the one you were used to. It was a special night after all, your thoughtful boyfriend must have wanted you to branch out this evening. Where is he, anyway? As you pressed play, you called out for him, only to be cut off by your own confusion as Satoru’s face appeared on your TV screen. You watched with perplexity as Satoru recentered his chair, smiled, relaxed his face, and then smiled again.

No…no, no, no. What is this? You were locked in place, the melodious sounds of Satoru’s voice cascaded out of your surround sound system. He looked different though, his eyes were dull and low, his voice monotonous–his alarming difference in demeanor sent a chill down your spine. Your groggy mind inferred that this must’ve been an accident. Maybe it was casted to the wrong TV. I shouldn’t be seeing this…these are Satoru’s video diaries.

You so badly wanted to tear your eyes away from the screen, this seemed like such an invasion of privacy. But you were entranced, staring intently toward the TV, though you didn’t really have a choice, your body was completely numb now.

“January 16th, 4:06 AM

I woke up drenched in the feeling of lethargy again—another night of only an hour’s worth of sleep. Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point…” you fought to keep your eyes open, to piece together what the hell was happening, until your body eventually succumbed to sleep.

When you finally came to, you were laid out on your bed, fully nude. Soft grunts lingered in the air as you worked your hardest to refocus your eyes, your head pounding. You shifted your weight onto your forearms, your neck straining as it felt like your brain was filled with lead, eyes searching your bedroom for the culprit of the moans. One glance to the left, a quick look to the right, before you stared straight ahead at the wall directly across from the bed. Your body lurched in fear as your heart sank, the source of the sounds now looking you dead in the eyes: The man you had been seeing for the past couple of months, gagged and tied to a chair, his bloodied face twisted up in agony.

You tried to call out for him. Your feeble attempts to drag your heavy body closer in order to console him were interrupted as the room was suddenly illuminated with the streaming lights of a projector. Your movements halted as you shielded your eyes immediately, the bright interruption feeling like a flashbang to your sensitive head.

“We didn’t get to finish my show and tell,” a voice spoke up from the dark corner.

“Satoru?? Wha…what is going on?” you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes while your hands attempted to cover your modesty. You tried your hardest to sit upright, your head spinning, unsure if Satoru was the culprit or your savior. Your body felt like it was anchored to the floor, your head throbbing with every word that tore through your chest.

“There’s no need for all that yelling, sweetheart,” Satoru grinned, crouching down next to you. You winced as his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing away the tears that trickled down your cheeks.

Click

Metal cuffs clamped down on your wrists before you could even register what was happening. A million unanswered questions spun through the room as you frantically searched through his blue eyes, hoping to find any sort of insight into the torment he was inflicting upon the two of you.

“This is what’s gonna happen, okay? I need you to listen to me.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, each syllable that left his lips more damning than the last as he dragged your limp body up the bed, securing your wrists to the headboard and angling your body toward the projected video on your wall. A crazed grin lit up his dull face as he raised his hand, pointing the remote toward the projector. “You’re gonna sit here and look all pretty f’me while you watch these tapes, and if you move, if you stop paying attention for even a second…” Your stomach churned at how gently he was able to give such vile instructions. He turned his attention towards your partner, the blade of a knife twirling through the slender fingers of his free hand, “...He’s dead. Understand, angel?”

You nodded reluctantly, unable to do anything else but comply with his demands. Your head was spinning, trying to digest the fact that this was the same person who had paid your rent and entertained your rants after a hard day of work. You listened as his voice continued to drabble over the static of the projector, recalling how bland that day had been until he saw your face. How he must’ve dreamt of you because there was no way your beauty could exist outside of his imagination. To you, it had been a normal Tuesday afternoon. To him, it had been the start of the rest of his life.

The longer you watched, the more the realization set in that the sweet gestures he presented to you were not out of the goodness of his heart, but from the darkness of his spirit, driven by his wanton lust. Your face was slack, eyes wide in horror. Disappointment crawled through your chest at your own naivety. How could I be so oblivious? So trusting?

Satoru’s eyes bored into the side of your face as he sat beside you, his hands rubbing deep circles into your bare thighs, pure elation shooting through his veins at his sweet girl finally having a look into his mind. The look of terror that painted your beautiful face made his heart leap with joy. Satoru’s giddy demeanor dropped as pained grunts emerged from the tethered man against the wall. He stood, closing the distance between the two of them, his fist encircling your boyfriend’s throat. You began to protest, to plead with Satoru to leave him be, but the rage that filled his eyes made you shut your mouth. “Uh uh…eye’s on the screen, my love.” Your head snapped back toward the videos, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as the muffled wailing of your boyfriend filled the room.

As the final video played, Satoru returned to your side, kneeling on the edge of the bed as he stroked the back of your head and rubbed at your cheeks. “Can’t you see all that I’ve done for you?” He grabbed your face, digging his fingers deep into the space under your cheekbones, forcing your lips into a pucker. “You belong to me, my love.” A deep growl rumbled through his chest, “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” He leaned down and crashed his lips into yours, his hot tongue bullying its way through your tight lips. Small whines echoed through your mouth and into his, and Satoru greedily swallowed up your sounds with ease. Whimpers of protest came from the wall across from your bed, but they were quickly drowned out by the wet sounds of smacking lips and battling tongues.

He broke away, a thick trail of spit still connecting the two of you. Satoru released your cheeks with a gentle shove, throwing his leg over yours to straddle you. He dropped his head to your neck, his white hair brushing against your skin. You winced as he licked a thick line from your collarbone to your ear. “I finally get to have you,” he whispered, nipping at your flesh, “You ready to give yourself to me, princess?” Your eyes widened in horror, your gaze affixed towards your boyfriend, blood trickling from the fresh cuts on his cheeks. Your head shook side to side, tears brimming in your eyes once more as your thoughts raced through your mind, causing a traffic jam in your throat. “I…no, I can’t…he’s…” Satoru’s palm covered your mouth, a groan erupting from the back of his throat as his eyes rolled deep into his skull. He sat back, staring down at you, his free hand running its fingertips between your breasts. “This has nothing to do with him…It’s just me and you now, my love.” Your head snapped up to stare at your captor as the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your nipples. A stifled moan teased the back of your throat, an exasperated look of fear in your eyes as you stared up at Satoru.

Your cheeks flushed as you held his gaze. He grinned back down at you before rolling the hardened bud between his fingertips. Your chest arched toward him, a shameful hum dancing from your lips as he played with you. A deep laugh erupted from the blue-eyed man at your unintentional reaction, his head thrown back with pure joy as he continued to pull at your nipples. He leaned into your neck once more, his teeth grazing the outer shell of your ear. “I knew it,” he purred, “Knew you wanted me, too. You were just playing hard to get, isn’t that right?” You shook your head once more, your words constricted in your chest. “N-no…I never wanted you,” you retorted, head thrown to the side, attempting to distance yourself from him, but to no avail. The weight of him anchored your lower half to the mattress while your tethered wrists held you in place.

A deep chuckle rumbled through Satoru, “So if I feel your pussy, it won’t be absolutely soaked right now?” A pathetic whimper escaped your throat as you shook your head furiously. The rolling motion against your nipples halted and his hand trailed lower down your abdomen. “Hmm…let’s see then, shall we?” he taunted, tracing your skin before rubbing your folds and dipping into your core. “I knew it…you’re fucking drenched f’me, sweetheart.” He shoved two fingers in, shallowly teasing your hole before withdrawing, bringing his sopping digits between your faces, turning his wrist as the dim light of the room illuminated the wetness, making it glisten ever so slightly. He examined them before meeting your fearful gaze. “Why did you lie?” He sucked his middle digit into his mouth, his tongue lapping hungrily at your sweet juices as his eyes fluttered shut. A hum emanated from Satoru as his other soaked finger pushed past your lips, “Here, have a taste, pretty girl,” his long digit dancing around your tongue. “So fucking sweet. You have no idea how badly I’ve been craving this.”

“I’ll ask you again, princess…Why’d you lie to me? I thought you were better than that,” he teased, an insincere pout twitching at his lips as he cradled your chin. Your body thrashed as his hands pawed down your body, plunging two fingers deep inside you again. Your back arched toward him, his knee between your legs was the only thing keeping you open for him. “I…It wasn’t..ahh!– I wasn’t lying…I–”. Your words fell on deaf ears as a wicked smile crept across Satoru’s face.

“Shhh…shhh my sweet girl, just lay back and enjoy,” he smirked as he crawled down your body, laying himself flat on the bed with his head nestled between your legs. Satoru’s body no longer shielded you from your boyfriend, your teary eyes darted across his face, a silent apology being sent his way. Small gasps escaped your lips as Satoru continued to pump into you, the tips of his curled fingers toying with your sweet spot. When you stared down at him, the look of pure desire peered back at you, the dampness between your legs skyrocketing at the sight. A scarlet dusting of shame brushed across your cheeks at your clear enjoyment of all this, even though it betrayed every natural instinct you had. His tongue darted out from between his lips, the tip circling your swollen clit as his fingers dipped in and out of you, his movements spurred on by his own desperation.

He was delirious, suckling against your clit while his fingers worked into you with fervor, moans and growls echoing through the room as he drank you in. You so badly wanted to break away, to console your boyfriend who had an unintentional front row seat to you falling apart on someone else’s tongue, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, his digits hitting spots inside you that you didn’t even know existed. Pleasure ripped through your body as a tightening sensation crept its way into your stomach. The rattling of your cuffs echoed through your bedroom as you fought against your restraints, desperately wanting to tangle your fingers in Satoru’s hair.

Your hips bucked toward his mouth, your body aching for release as your pelvis thrusted against his flattened tongue. You didn’t dare look away from Satoru, for you knew there was another set of eyes affixed upon the damning scene that was unfolding. He continued to hum and suck and pump into your core as you tightened around him, his slender fingers quickly coaxing your orgasm from your writhing body. Your eyes screwed shut as your gushy walls spasmed around his fingers, your release painting Satoru’s overly-eager face. He lapped at you some more, working you through your orgasm as he cleaned you up with his wickedly talented tongue.

A deep growl broke through Satoru’s chest as he removed his head from between your legs, the back of his hand dragging across his chin, catching the last of your release before he licked you off of him. He sat upright, craning his neck to look over his shoulder, “Hope you were taking notes,” a smug grin on his face as he addressed your watching boyfriend. He redirected his attention to you. “Did so good f’me, angel. Dreamt of that for so long…” he grinned, his tongue darting out to trace along his lips, hoping there was still some of you coating his face “...I could do that all fuckin’ day.”

Your shaking chest heaved as clarity settled into your mind. Satoru untethered your wrists from the headboard, shifting your body so that you were on your hands and knees, head positioned toward the wall your partner was leaning against. Strangled sounds rang from your boyfriend’s chest as you finally met his gaze. Humiliation prickling under your skin at the realization of what you had just done. But you had no time to dwell on it as Satoru repositioned himself on the bed.

“He’s gonna watch me destroy you, my sweet girl,” Satoru was kneeled behind you, lining himself up with your embarrassingly soaked entrance. He grasped your hips roughly, sinking into you in one fluid motion. You choked out a sob as you dropped your head in shame.

“You’re so pretty when you cry. He can’t help you…can’t save you. Go ‘head, keep cryin’ for him,” he cooed, his thrusts deep and slow inside of you. Jagged moans escaped your throat as the thick head of his cock brushed into your sweet spot. “He can’t make you feel as good as I do.”

He leaned down, reaching around to cradle your throat in his hand, squeezing tightly as he turned your head to the side, his sharp eyes running up and down your contorted face. “Can’t you see that you belong to me, how my poor heart aches for you? How badly I’ve needed you?” His thrusts were agonizingly slow but incredibly deep, the pressure in your tummy betraying your desire for this to stop. “That’s it, my love. Feel you clenching down on me…you’re getting off on this, aren’t ya?” His hips rocked deeper into you, the new depth had your hands clawing at the sheets of your bed as pleasure worked its way through your trembling body.

“He doesn’t treat you the way I do. He never will. No one is better for you than me, princess,” he seethes, his hand cupping your chin, holding your head up, “Now look in his eyes while I use you.” His pace picked up, pulling you back on to him with his anchored hand around your neck. A broken sob cut through your constricted throat as he fucked into you, the visceral sound of flesh smacking against flesh and whines and cries spun through the otherwise stiff air of your room. He palmed at the fat of your ass, pulling your body to meet his rough thrusts. A choked cry left your lips as you maintained eye contact with your boyfriend, crimson droplets running down his face, mimicking the pattern of your tears. You mouthed a silent “I’m sorry” to him before your eyes shut tightly, waves of sinful bliss pulsed through your body with every mean thrust of Satoru’s hips.

“Gettin’ so tight around me–f-fuuuck–you’re close, huh?” Your face contorted in shameful pleasure as you nodded, your back arching even more to take him deeper. “That’s it…c’mon, my love. Need you to cum on my cock,” Satoru begged, his voice airy as he got lost in your tight, sopping walls. “Show me how good I make you feel.” His words ricocheted around your head as the building pressure in your stomach finally snapped, your legs shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body, splattering onto Satoru’s thighs and the mattress below you.

A few more strokes met your dripping center before Satoru bottomed out inside of you, thick ropes of his pearlescent seed painting your spasming walls. He finally released his tight grip around your throat, your head dropping immediately as indignity plagued your trembling frame. He pulled out, spreading your cheeks as he leaned down, an animalistic growl pulling from his chest as he watched his cum dribble out of your pussy.

Satoru rubbed soothing circles into your lower back as you worked to regain your breath. “You’re mine,” he whispered. He unlatched the restraints from around your wrists, a coy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the purple bruises that marked your skin. He locked eyes with your boyfriend, a deranged smile dancing across his face as he reached for the discarded projector remote.

Another familiar voice flooded through the speaker, but this time it wasn’t Satoru’s. “...We broke up a few weeks ago. No, no. Really, it’s okay. She was kind of a bitch anyway.” Your pupils widened as you stared back at the man you had just been feeling sorry for minutes ago, rage mixing into the vast sea of emotions you were already feeling while you watched a grainy video of him snaking his arm around another woman’s waist. The two of them were laughing outside of his house before she leaned in to kiss him.

“My poor sweet girl.” Satoru’s hand brushed lightly against your cheeks, catching tears that you didn’t even realize had begun spilling out. “I didn’t want you to have to find out this way, but I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

There were a million other ways he could have broken the news to you, but that somehow wasn’t the most pressing issue at hand.

“An eye for an eye, right?” The same haunting grin that you’d grown to know all too well spread across his face again, his blue eyes slicing into your ex-boyfriend’s. “I can’t believe that my entire world was in the hands of someone so undeserving…” he redirected his attention back to you and recaptured your cheeks in his hands. He leaned down to meet your gaze, unexpected softness replacing his usual sinister demeanor. “What do we do now, baby? It’s your call.”

Your pulse was ringing through your ears. “My call?” your voice was reduced to a whisper as you repeated it back to him.

“I’m going to kill him either way, but I want you to tell me how.”

You pondered for a moment, still coming to terms with the chain of events that lead you to this one vengeful moment.

Satoru stood, sauntering over to your boyfriend, stooping down to his level while his hands hovered over his gag. “When I take this off, I don’t want to hear anything other than remorse come from that pathetic fuckin’ mouth of yours.” Your boyfriend’s eyes shifted towards you, then back to Satoru, as he nodded pitifully. The tie was pulled from his mouth. His words were broken, barely audible. “I’m -” he choked out. “I’m sorry, I -”

Your stomach lurched as a sharp smack met his cheek, the painful sound resonating through the room. “You can do better than that. You got one more try,” Satoru spat, his eyes burning into your ex-lover’s bloodied face as he wrapped his fist around his throat, jostling his head around in a fit of rage.

“Satoru,” you hardly recognized your tone let alone the thoughts that were racing through your head. The last few hours of your life had been a blur. The words you heard earlier made perfect sense now, “Nothing feels real when you hit a certain point.” You were officially at that point. “Satoru, don’t. Let’s just end this.”

It was the first time you’d ever seen the silver-haired man look surprised. His eyebrow raised, a mix of curiosity and amusement glinting in his eye. “Tell me how,” he repeated. “I need to hear you say it.”

You were in a dream. Nothing more than a figment of Satoru’s imagination, just like he had said. It was the only thing that made sense to you because there was no way any of this was actually happening.

“Rip his heart out,” your voice emotionless as you gazed toward the blue-eyed man. Satoru groaned deeply, his dick twitching at the sound of your pretty voice speaking his dark language. The same depraved grin pulled at the edge of his lips as he looked back at your ex.

“Well,” he smirked, “looks like it’s decided then…” Adoration swam through his ocean eyes as he looked back at you, “I knew I picked the right one.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.

Click

The lock of your front door unbolted as your bodies pushed through the door frame, giggling as four glasses of wine danced through your systems. Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. “Happy anniversary, my love,” he mumbled against your lips. His hands grasped yours as he led you toward the couch.

You nestled into the warmth of his chest, his arm secured around you while you gazed around the room. Your head spun from the wine-induced nostalgia that this day had inevitably brought on. You were still in the same apartment, only it belonged to both of you now. A blend of sentimental gifts decorated your bookshelf that the two of you had collected over the last year. A camcorder, pressed red roses, framed vacation photos, and the first set of diamond earrings he’d bought you stowed away in a heart-shaped jewelry box. But out of all of the memories that tied you together, there was one that stood out the most.

“Should we open it?” you whispered, drawing lazy circles into his shoulder.

You didn’t have to see his face to feel his smirk. He knew his girl and he knew her well. He stood wordlessly, retrieving a jar from the highest shelf. He presented it to you, a smug grin gracing his ethereal features, the same look that was permanently etched into your brain the night he got it for you.

“Be my guest, princess.” You unscrewed the lid, peering into the jar as the strong scent of formaldehyde tickled your nose. You smiled longingly into the container, the overwhelming feeling of love reverberating through your chest. There was something so beautifully poetic about Satoru’s limerence, the lengths at which he went to steal the heart of another in order to fully possess yours.

author note: im so sorry for not posting my sweets,, i had the worst case of writer's block and i was actively trying to work on six different WIPs...i was losing my mind.

this was quite the heavy fic to write...i hope i didn't scare anyone away with it lol

alsoooo!! sending out the biggest thank you to @remlionheart for forcing me to finish this...my editor, my co-writer, the love of my life ♡ ⋆｡˚

2K notes · View notes

msgexymunson · 2 months

Text

Highest Bidder

Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him?

Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl)

A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day.

Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know.

7k words

Masterlist

“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview.

The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same.

The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.

Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.

It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you.

So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing.

You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie.

Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked.

What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities.

“Hey sweetheart, am I late?”

When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.

“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.”

He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face.

“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.”

Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged.

‘It's nothing, just a dress.”

“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”

His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back.

“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?”

After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!”

The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.

“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”

After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience.

“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!”

As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.

No. Your friend. Just a friend.

“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?”

“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him.

“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?”

“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh.

“Fifty dollars!”

The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air.

“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?”

Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward.

“One hundred dollars!”

Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham.

She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten.

But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels.

You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face.

“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?”

The man at the back called out, “right here!”

Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid.

“One thirty!”

It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.

“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy.

The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him.

He's yours.

Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here.

It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer.

At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand.

“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!”

Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering.

“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”

He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you.

“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin.

“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes.

“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?”

He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie.

“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.”

Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him.

“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?”

“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?”

Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down.

“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?”

Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”

He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual.

You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her.

“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.”

She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.”

Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone.

“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.”

He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.

“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-”

You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared.

“-nevermind. Thank you.”

As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves.

“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?”

As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind.

“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back.

“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.”

You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg.

“Woof! Woo-”

“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you.

As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table.

“What are you doing?”

Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie.

“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?”

As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.

“This isn't a date, Eds.”

Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks.

“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest.

As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes.

“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?”

A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise.

“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation.

“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.”

“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck.

“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.”

As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Let's get out of here.”

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences.

Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye.

“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.”

Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours.

“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?”

His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings.

“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”

Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee.

“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again.

“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?”

Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.

“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.”

He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine.

“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.”

You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety.

“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.”

“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession.

“Absolutely not.”

“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”

“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?”

You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain.

“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”

“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.”

“What else would I do?”

He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-”

“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.”

“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.”

Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts.

“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?”

“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.”

Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee.

“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind.

“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.”

“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.”

“I dated Wendy to get over you!”

Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means.

“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip.

“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?”

It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut.

It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side.

Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back.

So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips.

“I'm in love with you.”

It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly.

“Huh?”

“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”

You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.

“Eddie, you lied.”

“What? I'm telling the truth I-”

“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.”

Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge.

The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth.

“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.”

There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss.

Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for-

“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.”

You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life.

The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin.

“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.”

A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor.

“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms.

A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face.

“You are so beautiful.”

Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away.

“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned.

“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.”

Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second.

“Can we go to my bedroom?”

Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart.

“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties.

“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back.

The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso.

Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are.

“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?”

He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.”

The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least.

“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.”

“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.”

You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away.

“Do I need to put a towel down?”

“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.”

He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face.

“You want me to stay?”

“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.”

The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything.

“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form.

“Hmm?”

“Get the towel.”

Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns.

“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.

“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact.

“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck.

“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot.

Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple.

“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.”

You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there.

As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten.

“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment.

“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?”

“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy.

“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.”

“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh.

“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?”

Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard.

“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch.

He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring.

Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling.

“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”

Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot.

“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!”

He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to? You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if-

“Hey, sweetheart, you here?”

He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question.

“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-”

“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”

“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-”

“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.”

His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you.

“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”

“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.”

Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips.

“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.”

Sweet. You sound sweet.

In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment.

There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion.

“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!”

He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.

It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair.

He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed.

The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down.

“Now are you glad I said about the towel?”

Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you.

Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.

“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.”

Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear.

“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused.

“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.”

“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.”

The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him.

It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again.

“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??”

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.”

He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk.

“Now that's not fair sweetheart.”

You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince.

“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut.

“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.”

“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-”

He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes.

Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction.

“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?”

Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire.

“I-I'll try.”

“That's it, atta girl, little more.”

Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in.

“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!”

“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”

A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks.

“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.”

Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.

“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.”

Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving.

“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head.

“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?”

Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again.

“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.”

Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet.

“Eddie, I lo-”

“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?”

You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him.

“Oh my God, baby, oh God!”

You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem.

“Right there princess?”

Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan.

“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.”

Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back.

“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily.

“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts.

It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire.

“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.”

Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse.

Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness.

“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.”

He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye.

“Eddie, that was perfect.”

He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time.

“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”

Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling.

“OK, now I'm really gonna go.”

You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind.

“Right, now, just hang on.”

With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat.

“I can change the sheets if you want-”

“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.”

Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief.

“Eddie? Can I say it now?”

You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening.

“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.”

“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.”

The smile in his voice makes you smile too.

“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #eddie x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff

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bradshawsbaby · 7 months

Text

Love in the Air

Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader

Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?

Word Count: 12.5k

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.

If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.

Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.

“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”

“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.

“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”

Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.

Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.

You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.

It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.

You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.

“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”

“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.

“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.

“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.

“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”

And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.

It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.

Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.

“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.

“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”

Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.

“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”

Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”

“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.

“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.

“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”

“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.

All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.

“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.

The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.

“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.

“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”

“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.

You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.

“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.

You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.

As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.

You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.

Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.

By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.

You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.

When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.

Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.

Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.

Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.

At the gate yet???

Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.

Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.

Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.

😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!

Katie, it’s not even 9am…

So? A mimosa then!

You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.

When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.

Any cuties to share that mimosa with???

You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.

Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.

He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.

Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?

Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.

You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.

Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.

‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️

At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.

Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!

Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.

Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!

Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.

Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.

“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.

It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.

Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.

Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.

You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.

The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!

Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.

At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.

When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.

As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.

Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.

“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.

“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.

“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”

Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?

“I—I—”

“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.

Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.

“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.

With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.

“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”

You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”

The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”

Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?

“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”

He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”

“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”

“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”

“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”

“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”

“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.

Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.

Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.

Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.

Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.

“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.

Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.

“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”

“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.

Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.

Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.

On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?

It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.

Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!

You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.

Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.

OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!

How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?

It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!

Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?

Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.

Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.

Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.

It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.

As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.

Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!

I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!

You better answer me!!!

Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.

Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.

Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.

What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️

You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.

You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.

You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.

Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.

Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.

Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.

You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?

Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.

Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.

A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.

What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.

You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.

Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it.

You’d written your note in black ink.

Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.

Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.

What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.

At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.

Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.

Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.

Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.

Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.

You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.

It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.

Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!

You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.

Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.

The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.

Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.

Bradley only took seconds to reply.

Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.

Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.

Hey! I thought we were friends!

We’ll see 😉

You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.

As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.

I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.

Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.

Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.

Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.

Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.

You’re on.

When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.

You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.

You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.

“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.

When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.

“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.

“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.

Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.

Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.

“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.

The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.

“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.

You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.

“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”

Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.

“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.

Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”

He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.

“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.

“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”

You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”

He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”

“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.

Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”

You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”

“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.

“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.

“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.

He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.

The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.

“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”

It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”

“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”

“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”

You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.

“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.

Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.

“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.

“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.

“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”

“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”

“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”

“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.

“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.

“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.

“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.

“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”

Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”

“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”

She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.

Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.

“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.

“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.

“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”

Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.

As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.

“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.

“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”

Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.

Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.

Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.

“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”

“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”

“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.

Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”

“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.

At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”

Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?

“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”

Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?

Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.

“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.

“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”

Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”

“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.

“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.

Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.

“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.

“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.

“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”

“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.

“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.

Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.

“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.

The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”

“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”

“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”

Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.

“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”

Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?

“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.

Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.

Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”

Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.

“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.

“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”

Someone like you?

The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.

You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.

You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.

“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.

You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.

“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”

You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”

“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”

Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.

To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.

“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”

“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.

For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.

“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.

“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”

“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.

By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.

You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?

All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.

“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.

“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”

“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.

“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.

“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”

“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.

Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.

“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.

“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”

“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.

Too late, you realized your mistake.

“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”

“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”

“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.

“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.

A moment later, she texted you back.

YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!

Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.

“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.

“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.

“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.

“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.

“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.

Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.

Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.

“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.

“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.

“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.

“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.

“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.

“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.

You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.

“Promise.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradsaw x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #miles teller

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getosbigballsack · 23 days

Note

Toni, I need SatoSugu x Chubby introverted reader 🥺

Can you write something for my pitiful soul 🥺❤️

𝑫𝒐 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂... 𝑫𝒐 𝒊𝒕 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑼𝒔

𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑜 𝑆𝑢𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑢 𝑥 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑈𝑛𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑥, 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑥 (𝑓𝑒𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔) 𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑣𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑐ℎ𝑢𝑏𝑏𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙, 𝑝𝑒𝑡 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒 (𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑜 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠)

𝐴/𝑁: @noroi1000 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡. 𝐼 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡 ℎ𝑢𝑛 𝐼 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟. 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑡. (𝑃𝑆: 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 5000 𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠) 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑜𝑜 @tonicries her story gave me inspiration to complete a scene when it stumped me.

𝐺𝑒𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜'𝑠 𝑊ℎ𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒

𝑊𝐶: 4.9𝑘

𝐸𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦❤︎

It’s hot today and you’ve decided that it would’ve been a great idea to hang out at your best friend Gojo Satoru's parents' private house somewhere up in the hills for the weekend. It’s better to spend your weekend away from your hot apartment and it's a bit cooler around that area, and what better time to relax outside while staring at the hills as your other best friend Geto Suguru quietly reads a book while you’re laying down on Gojo’s chest.

You three were all quietly enjoying each other’s company until Gojo got tired and bored and he decided to say, “Y/N, there is a question that I’d like to ask you.”

Curious, you raised a brow at him while whispering, “Ask away.”

You feel him caressing your back, hands slowly moving down until they’re both resting on the back of your thighs, then he asks, “What are your views on oral sex?”

Your eyes grow wide, head slowly lifting off his chest to get a good look at his face. You see him biting his lips, patiently waiting for you to answer. You took a glance over towards Geto to see him staring at you while he also awaits for an answer.

You clear your throat, unsure of what answer they could ever want from you, so you choose to say, “I don’t have much to say if I’m being honest with you. It just believes that every individual has the right to do whatever it is that they want in their sex life if they are comfortable with it.”

“Are you comfortable with it, pumpkin?” Gojo asked.

You tilted your head to the side, eyebrow still raised as you gave him your answer, “It’s nothing to be shameful about so I guess I could say that I’m pretty much comfortable.”

“Ah so, that means that you’ve done it before right?”

“Done what?” you asked Gojo.

“Oral sex, you’ve done it before with your ex-boyfriend right?” he questioned.

You sat up on his lap, hands folding across your chest. “Why are you asking me that?”

“Just wanted to know more about my best friend,” he answers causally while shrugging his shoulders.

“And your way of getting to know me a bit better is to ask me about my sex life?”

Gojo smiled, “I was just asking. I thought it would be fun to have a conversation about each other's sex life. Right Sugu?”

“I agree, I don’t have an issue discussing certain parts of my sex life with you two,” Geto answers in agreement. You’re a bit taken aback by how causal they both were uttering the word ‘sex’ out of their mouth. You believed that sex should noy be spoken about so casually, the act is intimate, one that is meant to share with someone you have some sort of deep love for. But with how loosely it fell from their lips, it would seem as though this is not the first time, they have conversations like these when you’re not around them. “So, are you gonna answer?”

You twiddled with your thumb, a small blush creeping upon your cheek as you answered, “Well yes, but I was never on the receiving end.”

That had Gojo and Geto sitting up in their seats, you almost fell from Gojo’s lap with how quickly he got up. “I knew something was off about him.”

“Right,” Geto said in agreement. Slowly, you watch as Geto got up out of his seat and walked over to you and he knelt onto the floor. “So that dumb ex-boyfriend of yours has never eaten your pussy out.”

You shook your head no. “Unbelievable, and he’s known for eating a lot of asses around campus? I mean I’m not against eating ass, I’ll eat your booty if given the chance to. But you’re telling me that he never thought about stuffing his face between these thighs.”

Once again, you shook your head no as embarrassment washes over you. Why are they making it so important? So, what if your ex-boyfriend ate other girls’ ass and pussy and not yours? It never bothered you, you never cared much about it. Your ex-boyfriend told you that once his cock is wet then everything else would be all right, so why are you best friend making it so important.

“He’s an idiot Sato,” Geto commented, while lifting his hands to caress the apple of your cheek.

“That he is. I mean how can one ever resist the urge to go between these sexy thick juicy thighs,” Gojo said while squeezing the side of your thighs. “If I were him, my face would be between them every single day, tasting what you’re hiding between them.”

“I bet she tastes sweet Satoru,” Geto whispered as he stood up and rested his other hand on your cheek.

“She does, I know she does,” Gojo said, his tone a bit lower than usual. Your face was hot, cheeks burning hard from their comments. You had no clue what to say after hearing what they both thought about you in just two simple sentences. Something sweet that they both can’t wait to devour. “Hey pumpkin, can I ask you something else?”

Without even much, since you were beginning to feel hot and bothered from Geto’s hands on your cheek, and Gojo’s hand on your thighs, you whispered, “Go ahead.”

As Gojo was about to answer, Geto beat him to the punch, “Do you wanna… do it with me?”

“Huh?”

He bit his lips while gazing at you through his thin, yet beautiful eyelashes, “Do you wanna have sex with me… I mean with us, but this time you’ll be the one on the receiving end.”

“What, what…” you stuttered. Your cheeks hot and flustered from being embarrassed, you quickly pulled your head out of Geto’s hands, and quickly got up from Gojo’s lap, only for them to grab you and pull you down once again on Gojo, but this time with your back against his chest.

“Come on pumpkin, it’ll be fun. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about after all we’ve both been wanting to do this with you for a very long time, “Gojo whispered as he spread both your legs over his lap and quickly lifted up your dress up and let it lazily fall onto your tummy, exposing your cotton blue panties underneath.

Before you could even protest and tell them not to push you any further than they already have, Geto’s face was hovering over yours, forehead almost touching as he whispered, “Please Y/N, let us show you what you’ve been missing. Let us taste you please,” he said with a pout. “We really want to taste your pretty cunt, princess.”

What were you to say now? After all though you were a bit comfortable exposing yourself to your best friends like this, allowing them to touch you inappropriately and expose your most precious lady parts, you weren’t going to say no to them, because maybe, just maybe in the deepest parts of your mind, you wanted them to have their way with you.

“Oh… okay but promise to be gentle.”

“No worries pumpkin, we’ll be as gentle as we can be just for you,” and with that said, Geto pressed his forehead against yours and captured your lips with his, while Gojo’s hands travels up to your thigh, caresses between your them and his finger gently rubbing your puffy clit through your panties.

It’s unbelievable, to think that you were about to give yourself to your best friends. It was the furthest thing from your mind, given the fact that you thought they both weren’t into you and because you thought you weren’t their type. But the taste of Geto’s lips has you spreading your legs wider for Gojo to lay his hand flat against your pussy, cupping and thumbing your clit slowly to have your pussy dripping by the time Geto was ready to feast upon you; it had you thinking differently about them.

Hot and messy, he slowly parted from your lips to trail kisses from your jaw down to your neck, his fingers coming up to make quick work on the strings at the front of your dress to reveal your breast to them, but with such little patience, he ripped the dress down in the middle, your heavy set breast bouncing freely at the sudden movement.

You squealed, your hand quickly tried to cover them up, but Geto caught both your wrist in one hand and quickly caught your nipple between his teeth. “Suguru… don’t,” you tried speaking, but he shuts you by biting your nipple before covering your breast with his mouth. A moan slipped past his lips, eyes rolling back slightly as he continued to suck at your breast while his free hand went to fondle the other breast. Gojo was right, you’re tasty.

“Hey, give me some attention too,” Gojo whispered underneath his breath. You snapped your head around to look at him, only to be met with his strawberry flavoured lips savouring the taste of yours. His tongue is hot, licking the roof of your mouth with every thrust of his tongue. Your cheeks burned; your body started to melt underneath their touch. “Hey, let’s take this inside yeah, it’s about to get messy.”

…

Gojo is extremely strong, given the fact that he was carrying you inside the master bedroom. He had both arms underneath your bottom, your thick thigh locked around his slim hips. You had one hand around his neck while the other held onto whatever was left of your dress. Your eyes were on Geto, watching as he wrapped his hair up into a bun before he yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor as soon as you three were inside the bedroom. Geto did not even bother to close the door, eager to get down on his knees before you and feast upon tempting flesh. Gojo carelessly let you fall against the bed while he took the time to get rid of his shirt too, before climbing on the bed, sat up against the headboard and beckoned you to him.

You did so, slowly turning around to get up on your knees to crawl towards him. “Ugh!” you squealed, feeling the sting of Geto’s hand on your ass cheek. You pouted at him while you crawled into Gojo's lap, and the white-haired man wasted no time, spinning you around until your back was once again on his chest.

“Gotta gets rid of these panties, pumpkin,” Gojo whispered, his large hands once again sliding up your thighs before grabbing the end of your panty.

“No,” you said, trying to close your legs tightly together to prevent him from pulling down your panties, but Geto wasn’t having any of it. He was on the bed, pulling your legs apart while Gojo quickly pulled your panties down your legs, watching as the material pulled away from your soaked pussy, a string of your arousal attached to your draws only snapping when it was down past your thigh.

“Now that's a wet pussy. Sato took such care of you, getting your plump pussy wet and ready for me to feast on,” Geto practically moaned as he got comfortable between Gojo’s legs, head resting against your thigh as he stared at your pretty pussy. “Sato, you got your phone with you?”

“Yeah why?” Gojo asked as he held your panty up against his nose, sniffing the crotch before taking a lick from the taste of your panty to taste your liquid, and boy he’s glad he got a taste, couldn’t risk such delicious delicacy miss his mouth. He tossed your panties off the bed while reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone.

“I want you to get a close up shot of me eating her pussy,” Geto moaned as his face got closer to your pussy. “By the way, Sato?”

“Yeah,” Gojo answered as he searched for the camera app on his phone to start the recording.

“Which hole do you wanna fuck after I’m done eating?”

“Huh?” you muttered, shocked out of your mind as your eyes darted between the two of them.

Gojo chuckled as he hit record on his phone and held the camera above Geto’s head while getting a perfect view of your glistening cunt. “I wanna feel her pussy, but I wanna pound that tiny little butthole of hers.”

“Aw… I wanted to take her ass to pound town though,” Geto pouts as he kissed your puffy, wet pussy lips.

“Huh… Toru… Sugu, huh?” you mumbled in utter confusion.

“We’ll share, I’ll go first then you can take the second hit,” Gojo suggested, completely purposefully ignoring the fact that you’re staring up at them waiting for them to acknowledge that they needed to ensure that you’re comfortable with whatever it is that they are about to do with you. In any case you were comfortable because you trust them, but it would have been nice if they had asked.

“No problem. You hear that princess, Gojo and I are going to take such loving care of your tight beautiful holes,” and with that said, he immediately surges forward, his hot warm tongue pushing past his lips to lick between the folds of your pussy. Your eyes rolled back; lips slightly parted to release a breathy moan. Gojo so desperately wanted to kiss those pretty lips of yours, but he was enjoying watching as Geto licked and spread your folds with his tongue more.

“Fuck!” you screamed, back arching slightly from Gojo’s chest the moment you felt Geto hot mouth captured your clit in your mouth, greedily sucking on your sensitive bud that had tiny pleasurable shockwaves slowly making its way up to your brain. You feel Geto’s hand removing itself from the back of your leg and slowly making its way up to rub your butthole.

Your body jolts, feeling his thumb rubbed and pressed itself into your butthole as he continued to feast on your pussy. He groaned in your pussy, head slightly tilting towards the camera just so that Gojo could get a perfect view of your messy cunt clenching and unclenching around his tongue as he thrust the thick wet muscle in and out and in and out of your pussy.

“You like that pumpkin?” Gojo asked, spreading your legs a little wider; giving Geto a bit more room to get comfortable between your legs. “Look at him, he’s having the time of his life between your legs.”

And Geto hums in agreement, tongue still skilfully thrusting inside your clenching cunt. You could feel him smiling as he pulled his tongue out of your hole to flicker at your sensitive bud before sucking harshly at your clit and slurping up the juices that leaked from your clenching hole.

He lifted his head from your cunt, spat on it again, and watched with glistening eyes as his saliva dribbled down the crack of your ass and onto his thumb that was still gently penetrating your butt hole. “Fuck, I’m about to have a feast here,” Geto mumbled to himself as he went back down on your pussy, tongue licking and spreading your folds, feeling your juices against his chin as it dribbles down to your butthole.

He started kissing your cunt, slowly moving his head down until removed his thumb from your hole and laid his tongue flat against it; your butt cheeks clenched immediately, legs trying to close and push away from him, but then you feel it. Gojo’s big hand delivered a slap upon your thighs, and you immediately spread your legs open once again as Geto continued to feast upon you. “Keep those legs open,” Gojo whispered to you as he angled the camera downwards to Geto a view of Geto eating up your other hole. “He’s got to get your ass wet and prepared to take our cocks.

“Mhm’ feels weird,” you whimpered, legs trembling and threatening to close around Geto’s head, but Gojo wasn’t going to allow you to do so, not when his fingers were slowly creeping down towards your messy wet pussy to play with your throbbing clit. “Mhm… ah,” you moaned out, head tossing back against Gojo's shoulder, feeling the sense of overwhelming pleasure being rushed to your head.

A few more licked at your puckered hole and Geto was quick to latch his lips back onto your cunt, not caring one bit if Gojo fingers were stimulating your sensitive nub, rolling his tongue harshly against your clit before sinking it back into your hole.

Your toes curl, eyes squeezing tightly shut, unable to think or even to understand what was happening to your body, it’s like your body was no longer yours. To be absolutely going mad, with pleasure.

Geto finally pulled away from your hole, fingers now replacing his tongue, rubbing, and poking at your hole before sinking two thick calloused fingers into your ass, slowly thrusting in and out in attempts to stretch you out. You’re so far gone, not knowing what to do with yourself, but whimper and cry as they continued with their sinful work as your body grew hotter and hotter, and that weird sensation in your tummy made itself known.

“Ahh, I think she’s out to cum,” Gojo whispered, fingers moving from your clit and plunge them into your hole, moving in and out and curling and poking on your g-spot. You cried out, hands now finally having a mind out its own to grip onto Gojo thighs for support as the rest of you quiver and tremble, desperately in need to cum. “Mhm, fuck Sugu her pussy is pulsing so much around my fingers.”

“You should feel her ass,” Geto followed up, quickly spitting on his fingers before thrusting a third one into your hole.

“No… No, I can’t,” you cried out.

“Oh yes you can,” they both said in harmony, fingers expertly working both your holes. The heat in your tummy began to rise even more, legs now violently shaking and that heavy pressure that you feel inside you felt like it was moment away from bursting if they don’t let up on your holes.

You began breathing heavily, nails scraping against Gojo’s thigh as your back lifted slightly from Gojo’s chest. Feeling your pussy desperately clenching, you scream, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna Ohh.” Like a river bursting through the walls of a dam, your pussy clenched and burst, wet clear liquid forcing Gojo’s fingers out of your cunt.

Geto groaned and he’s going down to lick up the mess from your cunt as you continue to squirt. “So good princess.”

“Good fucking girl. Pumpkin’s a squirter,” Gojo said as he tapped at your twitching clit a few times, then plunged his finger into your hole to get you cum all over his fingers just to get a taste. Geto on the other hand, gave no time to breath, his lips already on yours and you’re tasting yourself on his lips.

His fingers were still working to stretch your ass, but he managed to untie the strings of his shorts and pushed it down his legs exposing his thick prompt cock to your eyes. You gasped and pulled away from his lips, eyes widened as you took in the sight of his thick, long, and pale cock with a reddish tip. He had pubes, but not as much as your ex-boyfriend did, but Geto sure had a bigger cock.

“I don’t want it, it’s too big,” you said to them both as you tried and Geto’s fingers successfully slipped out of your now gaping hole and you did manage to crawl away from them. But you didn’t get too far, not when Gojo and his long lanky arms were close by, quickly grabbing onto your chubby thighs and pulling you towards him. And as he did so, he managed to pull his cock out of his shorts too. “No… no it's too big,” you said, staring at the weapon between Gojo’s legs.

“Come on pumpkin, you can take it,” Gojo cooed at you, quickly roughly handling you back into his lap with your legs spread over his legs and his cock snuggled up against your cunt. “Suguru stretched you perfectly fine.”

“But… but” you began stuttering as you looked down on the cock that was slowly sliding between your wet fat pussy lips, just waiting patiently to penetrate you deeply.

“It’s ok princess, just relax for us,” Geto whispered as he positioned himself between your legs and his large hand gently rubbing up and down on your thighs. “Satoru’s gonna stretch you out a bit more with his cock, so relax, be a good girl and take him as deep as you can inside you.”

Still staring at Gojo’s pale, long, curved cock between your pussy lips, you thought ‘you’ve already made it this far, it makes no sense you stopped dead in the middle of sex.’ So, with that thought you shook your head and whispered, “Ok.”

They both smiled, then you felt Geto’s hand slightly lifting both your legs, spreading them a bit wider while Gojo spat on his hand, grabbed his cock, and gave it a few pumps before pressing the pinkish mushroom tip at your leaking entrance.

You feel Gojo’s lips against your cheeks, kissing and licking at your skin, as he dragged the tip along your sensitive clit, teasingly smearing your slick all over his cock. “I’m going in now,” he growled, then he immediately pushed in one long, hard upwards thrust into your dripping cunt, knocking the air out of your lungs. His head collapsed onto your shoulders, teeth sinking into your collarbone, biting back his moan the moment he felt your pussy hold his cock like a vice grip.

“Fuck,” he muttered, gently pulling out then thrusting back in, and your sobbing as he painfully stretched you out deliciously. “What a tight fucking pussy. You wanna break my cock off, pumpkin?” he whispered against your shoulders, fingers quickly pinching and rubbing at your clit to give you a bit of relief.

“Mhm… ngh it’s- It’s too big, pull it out, pull it out,” you begged, not used to having something so big, hot, and throbbing inside your pussy, stretching you, splitting you apart and beyond your limits.

“No can no pumpkin,” A low growl escaped him as he pulled his cock out of your hole, until the tip was barely resting inside your cunt, only to thrust back into your warm cunt. Heavy thick balls slapped against the skin of your ass with each thrust of his hips, loud squelches of his cock pushing deeper and deeper inside your gummy cunt.

“Oh God, fuck me,” you mewled, tears stinging the corner of your eyes as you watched as your cunt getting completely mauled by Gojo’s cock., driving you to complete insanity. Your lame ex-boyfriend had never fuck you so stupid, his cock is not even big enough to stretch you as much as Gojo’s cock was doing at this moment. Ripping and tearing, then shaping your hole to fit his cock.

Your brain’s going numb, broken whimpers and moans leaving you each time he plunged into your hole. He’s shifting beneath you, angling his cock to hit that sweet spot within you and it has you bucking and keening on his cock, and he’s watching with hungry eyes as your tits bounce in circular motions with each thrust. “Gonna cum on this cock pumpkin, Suguru’s gotta fuck your little pussy too,” Gojo said to you, kissing your neck as his hand travelled up to squeeze and paw at your heavy swollen breast.

“I… no- too much I,” unable to form a coherent sentence you bowed your head and cried out, hoping that they’ll understand your plea. And to your luck they did, but that doesn’t mean that what Geto was about to do to you was going to make the situation any better.

Because here comes Geto whispering as he realised one of your legs and his fingers hastily rubbed figures of eight on your clit, “Well let me help you then.”

“No, stop please…” You cried as your trembling hands went to pull his hand away from your cunt. It’s no use though your hands were just trembling too much, so the only thing you just had to do was just sit there and let them skilfully worked their fingers and cock on and inside your cunt, pumping and pumping until your thighs twitched, eyes were rolling back and your breathing; short and forceful as they carried you to your orgasm.

“Come on pumpkin let it go, let it go,” Gojo urges, fucking up into you faster and harder than he was before, and the black-haired bastard had the audacity to make his fingers with Gojo’s pace. Your tummy was hot. It burns… it burns, you thought and the next thing you know, you are squirting. Gojo cock slipped out of your squirting cunt, and he, smiling as he grabbed his cock and rubbed it on your sensitive clit and watched as your pussy gushed more clear liquid.

“Move and let me slide in,” Geto said to Gojo, quickly grabbing both of your knees and folding them into your breast. And Gojo as quick as ever held the back of your knees and watched as Geto tapped his heavy cock onto your throbbing clit, the tip pressing into your cunt and when he was satisfied with the amount of you cum that coated his cock. He plunged in, stretching you impossibly wider than Gojo.

Just how big are their cocks?

Geto paused, watching as your lips trembled, eyes still tightly closed and your pussy, clenching and unclenching, slowly shaping to fit his cock. A low groan fell from his lips as he leaned forward, chest pressing into the back of your legs, forehead resting on your head that is between your legs and he’s whispering, “And though Sato fucked you deep and hard, stretching this tiny little cunt. You are still so fucking tight.”

His hips started moving, slowly dragging his cock out of your wet hole, then without warning he abruptly slammed his cock into you. “Ah… Sugu ah.”

He smiled and kissed your lips as he pounded into your pussy mercilessly. He’s so thick, thicker than Gojo it felt as though he was about to burst your pussy wide open. “Oh fuck, fuck,” he grunted, his forehead resting against yours, sweat beading down his forehead and onto yours. He glanced down at you through his lashes, your lips all puffy and swollen from all the biting and kissing. “Open up your mouth princess.” You lolled your tongue out for him. He groaned as he gathered a glob in his mouth before spitting it on your tongue. “Swallow and show it to me again.” You did as you were told, he didn’t waste another second to spit in your mouth again.

You swallowed then moaned, “I’m close again.”

“That’s what I want you to do,” he groaned as he straightened his posture to speed up his deep thrust. The sounds your bodies made as they slapped against each other and Gojo grunting from the feeling cock rubbing against your ass was driving them mad.

“Yes… ah fuck.”

He leaned forward yet again and gave you the neediest, sloppiest kiss. His cock began to abuse your g-spot, each thrust punching every breath from your lips. And once again, you feel the pressure building up inside your tummy, you’re left with no choice but to cum on his cock, juice leaking from the sides and down his length. He kept on fucking your through your orgasm, fwop, fwop, fucking you deeper and deeper with each thrust, hitting that spot he knew that was gonna make you squirt.

“Mhm… stop Imma shit…” Your body grew stiff and Geto had to quickly slip out of you to rub the tip of his cock on your clit as you squirted all over him.

“There you go princess, there you go.”

“So proud of your pumpkin,” they both praised and Gojo managed to steal a kiss from your lips. Your tired, body spent, worn out all you just wanted to do was to close your eyes and sleep. But wait they didn’t cum.

“Uhm… Toru… Su why didn’t you cum?” you asked them.

“Oh yeah, where not done.”

Bamboozled out of your mind, you turned to face Gojo and said, “Huh?”

“We gonna tap your ass member?” Gojo reminded you as he lifted both your legs again and his cock now poked at your lower entrance.

“And I wanna eat your pussy out while he takes care of your cute little hole,” Geto added as he got comfortable yet again between Gojo’s legs.

“No- no, no, no I can’t… I’m tired, please.”

“Ahh pumpkin just a few minutes more, I promise you it’ll feel fantastic.”

And that’s the line you fell for, keeping your legs spread as they both hand their way with your hole, stretching and pounding you out with no mercy. They did try to be gentle, but your pussy was just so unbelievably tight and soaking wet, they kept you inside that bedroom for hours upon end, until you finally passed out into Geto’s arms, whimpering, and shaking, skin sticky and sweating. Thick globs of cum dripping from your holes, and your ass filled with nothing but kiss marks, hickies and hand bruises.

They fucked you good, better than your dumb ex-boyfriend every did and they can’t wait to fuck your little hole and stuffed them full of them cum and just maybe breed you, but they’ll wife you up.

𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑑𝑜 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘? 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠, 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑅𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔.

@getosbigballsack 2024

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snippychicke · 1 month

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Poppy Seeds -- Part One

As you may have guessed, I fell into a new hyper fixation. Poppy's Playtime of all things. >.<

Inspired by TooManyPsuedonyms work, which in turn was inspired by @semisolidmind fanart/cabin!Au for Playtime Poppy.

I know right now we have no idea who or what Ollie is, but I decided to go with the assumption he is just a kid and not the Prototype as some theorists are assuming. This will likely be debunked in chapter four, but I'm running with it until then.

Dogday/Player!reader (attempting keeping it gender neutral)

Warnings: will touch on the after effects of trauma, but nothing is super explicit. Maybe some unhealthy coping skills (Dogday holding Reader on a pedestal) But otherwise we're giving everyone a happy ending. (Everything is wonderful and nothing hurts)

One: Home

Your hands gripped the steering wheel tight as your old truck climbed up the steep incline. It hadn't liked the rough road on a good day, let alone with Kissy and Dogday in the back trying to drag it down. Now it whined and complained, the wheels occasionally skidding on the gravel. Ollie clutched to Poppy tightly next to you, his sunken eyes wide with fear. Poppy, to her credit, looked confident that everything would be okay.

By the time you reached the cabin nestled high above the valley, it was close to midnight. It was a sizable two story home, complete with a barn, garage, and even a chicken coop. Thick forest surrounded the homestead, assuring complete privacy. A year ago your grandparents had moved into an assisted living community in town, leaving the whole place to you. The rest of the family had not been happy but in your defense you would come out every school break growing up to help them out.

And then, after you left Playtime Co, you had moved in under the guise of getting your life sorted out. Your grandparents never asked why it was taking you a decade to figure it out. Which you were glad, because you didn't know how you would have answered them.

Ollie’s fear eased into wonder as he looked at the flock of sheep you had in the pens up front. You were just thankful they were still there, looking rather healthy despite the fact you had been unexpectedly gone for a week or so.

When you had received the letter and VHS about the old Playtime Co you had interned 10 years ago while in college, you thought you would be gone for a few days at most considering it was a few hours away. You prepped your home as best as you could for being gone that long-- giving extra water and feed to the animals, setting the sprinklers for your garden on a timer-- but had little hopes of your own survival let alone that of your animals after being dragged deep into hell.

You didn’t bother with the detached garage, but pulled up right next to the porch. You were exhausted, and you could only imagine everyone else was as well. The truck seemed all too happy to shut off with a rough sound. You looked over at Ollie, who was still looking at everything in wonder, though Poppy was carefully extracting herself from his grip. “You okay there kiddo?”

He looked back at you, “This is where you live?” he asked instead, voice full of awe. “It looks like it's from a fairytale book!”

It really wasn't, it's a typical farm for this part of the country. Hardly one of the fanciest or beautiful, just simple and sturdy.

“Let's get inside and get settled for the night,” you offer instead of remarking. “I should have the stuff for some sandwiches at least.”

“Sand…witches?” Ollie repeated, sounding confused.

“Meat and bread,” Poppy answered, unbuckling the boy. “Sometimes with ketchup, mustard, mayo, cheese.”

“So, food? I like food!”

Your heart ached. You knew the boy had been raised in the factory, hidden away and protected from the Prototype or hungry ‘toys’. The fact he had was a miracle enough--especially considering how small and thin he was. He had to be ten at the youngest, but barely looked as if he was half that age.

The passenger door opened, which considering how much trouble Kissy had with her hands, was surprising. Yet the pink creature reached in and pulled both Ollie and Poppy out of the truck.

Dogday waited for you as you exited the truck, your legs shaky from the long ride. However, his attention wasn't on you but the dark sky above. It was a new moon, meaning the Milky Way arched overhead with dozens of stars. A glance over to Kissy and the others showed they too were amazed by the stars--you could hear Poppy trying to explain all of it to Ollie quietly.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” You said as you stepped closer to Dogday.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I-I’ve never seen the night sky like this.”

“Well, now you can see it every night,” you said, shouldering his arm lightly. “Best place for meteor showers too.”

Dogday tore his gaze away and looked down at you. “Are you sure we can stay here, angel?”

“Of course. As long as you want, even if it's forever.” Granted, you didn't know where else they would go, especially Dogday and Kissy. But you didn't want to assume anything either, or make them feel trapped.

His hand found yours, so giant compared to yours but soft and warm. “Forever it is then.”

You felt your cheeks warm against the chilly night air as you laughed self-consciously. “Right, you might wanna sleep on that kind of decision, ‘Day.”

Two: Sleep

You woke slowly, feeling warm and cozy. Something soft was surrounding you, with the faintest hint of vanilla. At first you thought maybe you were wrapped up in a thick blanket, but when you opened your eyes to matted brown fur you realized it was Dogday instead, his arms wrapped around you and holding you close as if you were the toy. You could feel him breathe softly, each inhale and exhale caressing your skin softly.

(You didn't want to think about the amalgamation of organic and inorganic parts inside of him. You saw enough when you helped attach his legs to leave you with nightmares.)

For once, Dogday looked relaxed. Dark eyes closed and his smile softened. You couldn’t resist running your fingers along his face. He had been one of the few you had instantly trusted in that hell. One of the few that never even seemed to think about harming you.

Poppy had used you for her own means, not giving you a real choice ever since you released her. Kissy Missy had always been kind but you had soon realized that her partnership with Poppy may have played a part in it. And of course there was Ollie, though it took a while for you to trust the faceless voice on the phone, especially after you learned that the Prototype could mimic voices and Ollie had a very… peculiar way of phrasing things.

Yet Dogday… he had raised his head, and saw you as someone special as soon as his gaze met yours. Begged you to leave him behind and to run when the miniature Critters started to swarm. Actively fought to defend and protect you despite missing the lower half of his body at first.

And ever since, had refused to leave your side. While everyone else did their part, he determinedly stuck with you. Even last night after everyone finished eating and all anyone could think about was sleep. Kissy happily cuddled Poppy and Ollie in her arms as she climbed up the stairs to claim a bedroom. You expected Dogday to follow suit…

“Hey, uh, angel?” Dogday said softly, sounding rather shy. He had stuck around to help you clean up, though all that consisted of was a few plates, cups, and butter knives. Though the number of sandwiches consumed had emptied out all the bread, lunchmeat, cheese, as well as peanut butter and jelly in your pantry.

“Yeah?” You were getting used to the nickname, though you still felt as if it was undeserved the way he said it. As if you truly were an angel from heaven, sent to save.

“... Could I sleep with you?”

His question surprised you, and you almost dropped the cup you had been washing. Thankfully he quickly grabbed it before it could fall very far. “Sleep…with me?”

Granted those last two… days? You weren't sure, but you and him had found safe spots to watch out for each other while the other slept. It was the only time during the whole ‘adventure’ you managed to sleep. Wrapped up in his arms, feeling him breathe, listening to his heartbeat. It reminded you weren't alone anymore.

“I… don't want to be alone,” he continued, drying off the cup and placing it on the shelf. “Even if I know you and the others are nearby, I…”

Your surprise shifted into sympathy and understanding. Kissy, Poppy, and Ollie were together… and now that you thought about it, being alone right now did not fill you with any sort of ease.

“Yeah. I mean, if you don't mind cuddling close. My bed is barely big enough for two normal-sized people, let alone one me and one… well, Dogday.”

His smile widened. “With you? Never.”

Dogday shifted in his sleep, turning his head to nuzzle into your hand before his eyes slowly opened. His smile widened slightly, and you heard more than saw his tail thump against the bed which in turn made you smile wider as well. “Morning,” you greeted softly.

“Good morning, angel,” he said just as softly. “Did you sleep well?”

“Best sleep in a long time,” you admitted with a slight laugh. Trying to sleep in the factory had been a scary experience. Finding small places to hide long enough to close your eyes. Waking and jumping at every little sound. Plagued by endless nightmares.

And you had been there for just a few days, a week at most.

“What about you?” you asked. Him and the others had lived in that hell for a decade. You didn't startle awake from him lashing out at nightmares. Which you had seen him do a few times before at the factory. You had held him in your laps as best you could, reassuring him he was okay as he broke down.

He leaned closer, nuzzling your cheek slightly. “Next to you, how could I not?”

You laughed between his flirty words and his fur tickling your skin. “You're such a flirt!”

Three: Morning After

“It's so bright outside!” Ollie gasped as he looked out the window while you worked on breakfast. Thankfully none of the eggs had spoiled, nor had any milk, meaning you were whipping up a full course of scrambled eggs and pancakes-- as well as cooking the few boxes of frozen sausages you had found in the freezer.

Dogday was currently watching them like a hawk, occasionally licking his lips as he moved them around in the skillet.

“Actually. That's cloudy. See how the sky is gray. Not blue?” Poppy pointed out, also gazing out the window. “On sunny days, it's a bright vibrant blue, and even brighter.”

“Really?” The boy looked up to you to confirm the doll's words, and you nodded your head. To think he had never seen the sky before. To be unable to tell a sunny day from a cloudy one.

“It actually looks like it could rain,” you pointed out. “Maybe we should hold off on a bath until after you have fun in the mud.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought if you get caught in the rain, you'll get sick?”

“Psh, no. At least, not as long as you can dry off and warm up afterwards. It'll also give me time to look through stuff down in the basement. I think there should be some old hand me downs that should fit you.”

“A good bath can do wonders.” Poppy hopped down from the windowsill and into Kissy's hand before the giant monster also gently corralled Ollie to the table where the food was waiting. “It's been such a long time.”

“Er, excuse me for being intrusive…” you set down a towering plate of pancakes before sitting yourself. “But can you guys get wet?”

“We may not be flesh and bone anymore, but we can still enjoy a good shower,” Dogday answered as he set the plate of sausage links in front of you. “Or even a swim.”

“Why is the water white?” Ollie interrupted, looking oddly at the glass of milk Kissy poured in front of him. “I've never seen it that color before.”

“It’s milk,” Poppy answered. “You used to love it when you were a baby and we had access to some.”

Ollie sniffed suspiciously before taking a drink… and then nearly gulping the entire glass in one go. You took the opportunity of everyone chuckling at the boy to split the sausage between the others. Kissy noticed first and clapped excitedly, her mit-like hands muffling the sound.

“Angel,” Dogday sighed, though you weren't sure he was touched or exasperated. Or maybe both.

“Shh, I saw the way you were eyeing them. I can always buy more when I go to town.”

He was silent for a while before taking a bite of the sausage, savoring it unlike Kissy who had all but inhaled hers. Ollie was following Kissy’s example with the banquet of food, while Poppy was benign as dainty as could be, cutting everything into tiny bites, even for her smaller size.

You couldn’t help but savor your own food, feeling rather happy and optimistic about the future.

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 3 #dogday poppy playtime #dogday x reader #dogday/reader #dogday x player #dogday/player #poppy #kissy missy #ollie

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silencesscreams · 11 months

Text

𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

james potter x reader

“inescapable, im not even gonna try, and if i get burned, at least we were electrified.”

a/n: maybe (just maybe) this was inspired by dress - taylor swift 🫡 also, ive had this in mind for AGES now, pls tell me about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language!! also, i made up some characters just to have something to fit into the story pls dont mind that

warnings and tags: afab!reader, angstyish, uncomfortableness??, oh my god the tension, intimate and touchy relationship between friends, james mentions other girls blablabla, kissing, stitches, open wounds, falling, body shots, hickies, slighttt choking, oral sex (f receiving), praise, degradation???????? penetration, unprotected, v soft ending, use of y/n a couple of times, slow burn?? words words words. (god how i love james potter). james is a player !! r is in the mauraders group, r is v close with lily, like two years after finishing hogwarts, mauraders working together on the orderrrr

it started on your third year.

you were seated with a redhead named lily in potions, she was sweet. she was friends with boys mostly, so when you started getting close she was happy to have you as a friend.

on your first trip to hogsmeade, she came a long with you and brought four boys along with her; remus, sirius, peter and james.

james potter caught your eye as soon as you saw him for the first time, he was laughing to something sirius had said, and you swore that was the sweetest sound you had ever heard.

you bonded over the same taste in candy at honeydukes, music, books and enjoying the same sorts of jokes. not much longer, you could consider him one of your best friends.

after a while, you found out james was touchy, at least he was with you. he would play with your hands when he was bored, cracking your knuckles for you.

he’d always listen about all the gossip and talk shit on mutually hated people. lily was happy you got along, and most of her girl friends and guy friends were also your friends now, which made you incredibly happy to have found yourself in a group like that. you were happy about how a great friend james was, he was so nice to you.

well, until your sixth year. that was when james started getting girls, suddenly, over the summer, everyone started to drool over him. at first, it didn’t even bother you that much, sure, you bawled your eyes out when he skipped your usual outing in hogsmeade to go on some stupid date with some stupid girl, but it didn’t even bother you that much, did it? you dont know, but it started really to bother you at some point, sure, no one else was caring about it like you were, but maybe no one else was around him like you were. maybe no one else knew him like you did, at some points you even asked yourself if you really knew him after all those years. you even spent christmas with him once, how could you not know him? maybe you only knew what he wanted you to see. god, you hated this feeling.

around october it was really pissing you off. he barely hung out with you anymore, of course you always saw him in groups, but you liked being alone with him listening to music or doing nothing at all. james was sweet to be around. he was caring, and you liked his smell. the way his arm would always be around your shoulder.

but in november, what really pushed you over the edge, was him showing up to dinner with his neck filled with hickeys, really showing them off. he sat down next to you, as sirius and remus both eyed him, pretending they weren’t seeing shit, but they would probably joke around about it when you and the girls weren’t around. and that was it for you. you got up, got your books and left, you couldn’t stand to do this on that day. not when your clothes didn’t sit right, not when you didn’t feel clean, not when your hair was not staying how you wanted it to stay. not when you figured out you might be in love with your best friend.

“where you going?” james asked as soon as you got up, you ignored him and just started walking. your eyes just might’ve started to water and god you needed to go somewhere you could be alone.

so you found yourself in the library, sat next to the window, thinking about how you were going to explain storming off like that to your friends, and worst, to james. all of it was so fucking stressing.

“hey.” you heard someone whisper, and so you quickly dry your cheeks with your sleeves, turning around to face james.

“hi.” you whisper back, he signals to the chair next to you, asking if its taken. you shake your head in response, he smiles and sits down.

“what’s going on?” he asks, staring at you with his brows furrowed.

“don’t worry about it, you can leave. i know you have a date with that ravenclaw girl, i’m just upset. its nothing.”

“you really think i care about her?” he asks, rolling his eyes. “you’ve been quite upset these days, haven’t you?”

“yeah, i guess, don’t worry, really. you should go and have your fun.” you reply, smiling empathetically.

“i dont wanna go.” he answers quickly, he looks around, trying to find something to say. and then he sees your redish eyes.

“oh y/n, com’ere” he gets up, opening his arms, you roll your eyes playfully, getting up and hugging him. you dont know why but his hugs always made you feel better. it was like he took all of the sadness from you and just threw it out. he was wearing a new perfume. he smelled like 2 in one shampoo and lavender soap.

“you can go to your date, i’m fine. i swear.” you say, still hugging him.

“i dont wanna go. i wanna be here with you, that okay? plus, i need to catch up on history of magic.” he said, sweetly kissing the stop of your head, and afterwards, pressing his chin on top of it. and you didnt know if it was the moment or something else, but that was when you knew.

when you were sure of it all. when you needed to tell someone else or you’d explode.

“lily, i need to tell you something but you need to promise me this stays just between us. really.” you whisper as she takes a sip of her butterbeer.

“what’d you do?”

“i didn’t do shit. listen, don’t judge me, alright?” you reply, frustrated. she nods a yes. “i think i might be very into james and i have no idea how to deal with it.” you blurt out, staring at your own cup, too nervous to look at her.

“oh, i already knew that.” she answers.

“no you didn’t!” you whisper-shout at her

“i mean, it was a very firm theory. i just know you and the way you get silly around him and his dates sort of made me sure of it.” she smiles.

“god. im so stupid” you whisper, facepalming yourself.

“no you’re not. you should see the way he looks at you.” she says, grinning at how red your face is.

“lily, he’s had like, 20 girlfriends this past year, he’s not into me.” you answer, rolling you eyes.

“alright then.” she said, irony taking over her voice.

“im serious!” you reply, and she nods, still ironically.

for the rest of his 6th year, james didnt have any girlfriends. and on his 7th he had a few flings, but so did you.

“i just don’t get why you’re going out with this asshole!” james said while you walked with him to transfiguration class.

“he’s not like that, james, just give him a chance.” you smile at his horrified look to your comment.

“corrigan almost made me fall off my broom once, he actually is like that, sorry sweetheart.” he emphasized the part where he says corrigan is like that.

“james, we’re not getting married, its just a date.”

“a fourth date.”

“come on, he’s fun.”

“y/n, if you wanted fun you should be dating me.” you roll your eyes at that. “where’s he even taking you anyway?”

“madam puddifoot’s, i think” you answer, knowing exactly what was about to go on.

“oh, in his dreams. he’s gonna try to bang you i just know it.”

“at a tea shop?” you laugh.

“oh please, don’t tell me you’ll let that asshole suck your face.”

“i dont talk about who sucks YOUR face. because just let me add that this gale girl you’re going out with will probably give you a disease.” james laughs at that. “im serious! shes sick all the time, every time i see her shes coughing and sniffing and all of that.”

“that reminds me i gotta break up with her.” he sighs.

“nooo, why? i thought things were going well”

“nah, we’re just not good together.”

“maybe because every time you went out with her you used it as an excuse to spy on me and corrigan.”

“just trying to protect my closest friend. thats all” he smiles, winking at you and you swear you can melt into a puddle right there.

“shut up, you’re just doing this because you hate him.”

“im serious, darling. he IS an asshole.”

“i guess i’ll just have to figure it out myself.” you wink back at him.

“oh would you just look at that.” james whispered, looking through the window at mrs. puddifoots door.

he could ser how corrigans face was close to yours and how suddenly he kissed you, one hand on your upper thigh and the other on the back of your neck.

“is that jealousy im sensing, prongs?” sirius laughed.

“n-no! its just disgusting, he’s a prick” james was suddenly defensive.

“y/n/n seems to like him though” remus commented.

“shut up.” james said, still watching how corrigan was gripping onto you. ‘god, i hate him so much’ he thought to himself.

and that went on until you and corrigan broke up. he did end up making james fall off his broom, he had to get 20 stitches, and you cried about it. as soon as james hit the grass you were in the field, it wasn’t even a real match, just practice. you took him to the infirmary, you even held his hand.

“its just a few stitches, don’t worry about it.” he said, as the nurse started to clean the wound.

“20 is definitely not a few, just let me stay here.”

“she’s right” the nurse added, she rubbed alcohol onto the cut and james hissed.

“told you he was an asshole, hun”

“watch your mouth, mr potter” she added as he groaned again.

after you were finished with school, most of your friends went to work at the order of the phoenix, you had a part time job as a bar atender but also participated in the order. james had been trying to convince you to quit the job, specially because your ex was the manager (even though he wouldn’t admit it).

“james!” you shouted, laying down at the couch in the orders house.

“what?!” he screamed back from the kitchen, he was making those god awful scrambled eggs you said you loved because he made them with such care you were sorry for his cooking skills.

“you’re taking anyone to sirius’s birthday tonight?” you ask, hoping to god he’d say no.

“no, mia and i broke up last month, remember?”

“of course i remember!” you were all smiley about it, you could squeal if he wasn’t there. even if it was silly, you were ansious to ask lily to come over and she’d help you pick out your outfit.

you both ended up deciding on a black dress she was willing to lend you. being so excited for something as casual as a friends birthday, was a bit stupid of you, that you could admit. but you couldn’t take your mind off of james now, sure it had been that way for like four years now, but he still was your best friend and you couldn’t do much about it. what was even worse was that his hugs, his voice, his smell, was all so addictive to you. and you tried, you really did, you just couldn’t.

when you got to the party at the order, you were a like two hours late, you got held back because of work and you still needed to get ready, but you somehow made before they sung happy birthday. you wished sirius a happy birthday, giving him his gift and a tight hug. even though you weren’t close, he was still one of the most present people in your life, and you loved that about him, and so before you could even ask, he said:

“james is in the bathroom right now, but believe me, he’s been waiting for you all night though.” you smiled.

“thank you sirius, but i have other friends took, you know?” you said.

“he’ll love the dress” he whispered, and started walking away, you knew why. him and lily have been trying to get you and james together for ages now, and so you knew that when he just walked away like that, james was coming near, probably to talk to you.

“hey” you heard, and so you turned around to face him, and honestly, he looked great. he was wearing those jeans you liked and a shirt you complimented once.

“hi” you looked at him, smiling.

“you look amazing” he said, and so you turned a bit pink.

“thank you, i really like that shirt.” you felt the need to say something back.

“really?” he was just teasing you at this point.

“really.” and you liked to tease him back.

“y/n! finally, come on, we’re taking body shots” said lily, pulling you with her, and james came along.

everyone was there, laughing having fun. it was all super sweet, like you were in school again.

well, that was until sirius decided he’d make you regret you were ever born.

“PRONGS!” he shouted, as james was staring at him from a safe distance “COME ON LETS JOIN THE GAME, ITS YOUR TURN!”

“i’m not so sure about that, i feel like its sort of y/n’s turn, right?” james smirked to you, you glared at him. god, you didn’t know if you wanted to kiss him or kill him.

“ah james, you know how they say, gentlemen’s first? i believe that’s the phrase” you found yourself very idiotic in that place.

“i’m not drinking tonight though” james winked, you were trying to get yourself out of the situation, though it only seemed to get worse.

“perfect way to solve it, hear me out, y/n takes one off of james, problem solved!” sirius didn’t seem to have any common sense when he was drunk.

“good idea sirius!” said lily loudly through the music, and so you glared at her. this was definitely going o be the lowest point of your year, being sure james would say no, you looked over to him and he just decided to say

“fine by me” and just like that the shirt you liked to much was thrown on the counter.

“oh, uhm, okay then” you felt hot and red and you were sure that was exactly how you looked and it did not feel good. you were hoping the lighting would mask i, until james said “no need to be nervous, princess” and somehow that made you even more nervous.

“you know how this works right? lick, shoot, suck?” james asked, and so you nodded a yes, staring at the ceiling. he slipped a lime wedge into his mouth, and so you begging for this torture to end because you already felt so wet it was scary.

his tongue fell upon the rind, and so he could taste the citric flavor as you sprinkled salt onto his skin, from his navel to his waistband. he felt himself blush but decided to just ignore it and try to focus on something else.

and so it begins, you didn’t know it, but maybe james was more nervous about that than you. he was begging to the universe, spirits, everything he could, to not get hard on that moment you leaned over him, your warm tongue sticking out and licking a stripe up the salt. he tried his best to suppress a groan, you smiled, nervously, as you took the shot from his stomach, he could hear sirius saying something loudly, lily screaming and remus’s laugh. and he just saw you.

leaning towards his face, you looked at him with your ‘i’m so sorry oh my god’ look, your lips falling and plucking the lime from his mouth, but when you were going to pull back, your lips touched around the wedge and you felt your whole body ignite as your lips brushed against his.

but as quick as you tasted him, as quick it was gone.

james quickly got uo and fixed himself, putting his shirt back on.

“good job” he didnt know what else to say and just hi-fived you. you smile confused.

“thanks i guess” you say, as lily pulls you to the side to discuss what happened right in front of her and wasnt just actually one of your dreams.

around three hours later the party ended, and james did actually drink, once most people were hone and you were headed to the guest room you felt a hand pulling you by your dress, holding on to the silky fabric. turning around you found yourself very up close to james potter.

“hi” you whispered.

“hi” he said lowly.

“is everything okay?” you asked, his breath smelling like mint and lemons.

“yeah” he answered, still staring “can i crash with you? ‘dont wanna go home” you nodded a yes, and suddenly his hand was on the back of your neck.

“i’m about to do something so stupid.” he whispered.

“so am i.” you answered, your eyes not really knowing where to focus, his eyes, his lips, his neck, his mouth.

“good.” he nodded, and suddenly his lips were brushing over yours, your eyes started to close and then there it was.

your lips met, softly completing one another, which involved a pulling back and crashing. his lips strong against yours, and then his tongue was brushing over your lips, qnd so you opened your mouth and god, you dont know for how long you waited. his hands now roaming your body, you felt the heat of his body, and he pulls back.

“youre so fucking pretty” he blurted out, going back to the kiss. his hands now on your lower back, you pull him towards the guest room.

and then you were both sat on the bed, your heals off and his shoes too. Your lips still attached, more and more eager by the second, and now his lips were on your neck, teasing you, as his right grabbed onto your upper thigh and your dress was riding up.

he pulled away to take off his shirt, you just stared at him, having no idea what to say next.

“hey” he was so close.

“hi”

“you wanna do this? because if you don’t that’s fine by me, really, we can just forget it and pretend we were both really drunk” he started trailing off.

“no. i want you, really, i do” you were trying not to look at him because that would make you even more nervous. just like that, his lips were back on yours, his hand on your waist, laying you down on the bed, your head on the pillow as he unzipped your dress, he was back onto working on your neck, pressing kisses and nipping at it as he started to pull down your dress, his knee right between your legs, he was so so close to where you needed him.

you felt his cold hand reach for your breast, his lips trailing down to your chest, starting to suck on one nipple as his hand stimulated the other. you couldn’t help but just run your hands through his hair as you let moans escape through your mouth.

“james” you whined, as he left a trail of kissed from you chest to your inner thighs.

“yeah princess?” he looked up at you with doe eyes, right between your parted legs.

“please” you whispered.

“i cant hear you, what’s that?” he teased.

“please, i need you.” he smirked at that, pressing a kiss to the damp spot on your lace panties, your body now electrified because of the gesture.

“can i take these off?”he asked, his thumb playing with the fabric as you nod, he smiles as he pulls them down your legs. he’s using his hands to part your legs, holding on to your thighs. you can feel his breathing over your clit, he watches you as he places his thumb pad over your clit, rubbing it in slow circles and you let out a moan. his arm coming up, resting across your stomach.

embarrassment quickly turns into pleasure as he starts to kitten lick your clit.

his lips now attached as you threaded your hands into his hai, tugging and making james grunt. he’s slipping in a finger and you start to whimper.

“that feels good?” he asks, pulling his mouth off of you, you nod.

“yes, please…" he’s smiling lightly at that.

“what is it, huh? can you take another? is that it?” he teasingly asks, you whisper a yes. he watched his fingers as they slipped into you, he lets out a low groan. his fingers moving quicker as the feeling in your abdomen got stronger. his lips attach again to you clit and you whimper at the feeling. he’s flicking his tongue and his fingers are hitting the perfect spot.

“james”you whisper, he looks up at you, his fingers still going at it. “i need you now, i’m serious.”you blurt out, his fingers leave you, making you feel a empty, his thumb rubs your clit as he goes up to kiss you, you’re able to taste yourself on his mouth. you moan into the kiss as he rubs you clit. his hands leave you, he starts to take off his pants, your heart races as he unbuckles his belt.

he reaches up to pin your knees up to your chest, you can feel the bulge on his underwear as he goes up to kiss you harshly. god, he did feel big.

“you sure about it?”he asks one more time.

“yes”you quickly answer.

“good girl.” you feel you soul leave your body because of the praise. he takes a moment to palm himself through the boxers,

“fuck, need you so bad” he whispers. you moan as his pulls himself out of his boxers, his erection hitting up against his stomach. he runs his hand up and down the shaft, you can feel his tip up against you.

“shit”you whisper,

“gonna be a good girl?” he’s lining himself up against you.

“yes, please, i will” you quickly answer, giving in because of how needy you were. he presses himself closer to you, stretching you around him.

“of course you are.”he says lowly, “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”he says, and you nod. he pushes himself into you just in one stroke, the sudden stretch makes you moan breathlessly. he groans into the crook of your neck, biting down on a soft spot. “still so tight. you feel so good, princess” he praises, and wastes no time and starts to move, shallowly rolling his hips up to you. he kisses your neck as you moan.

“oh my god”you whimper. he’s trusting harder now, starting to pick up a pace. you moan as he trusts forward, filling you up so well. you were starting to adjust to his size. your hands were back on his hair, holding on to it for dear life.

"fuck, james, harder please." he cocks an eyebrow, then pulls out to the tip, you whine at the loss,

"you asked for it, alright?” he thrusts forward roughly, filling you up with his cock, you feel him even deeper this time, the press of him against your walls making you whine louder as he thrusted even harder,

"can you take this, hun?" he fucks into you rapidly, mocking you, pushing you against the headboard, "you said you wanted it harder, didnt you?" your cheeks start to burn up. “you feel so fucking good” he groaned, the heat in your stomach building up again. you were blabbing incoherent phrases, all similar to ‘fuck please’ and ‘holy shit, oh my god james’. he’s filling you up perfectly and your walls start to tighten against him.

the sound of the slap of skin fills up the room, the base of him stimulating your clit along with his thumb, his right hand reaches up to your neck, squeezing lightly. he can tell your close, the way your hips started to buck up, grinding needily. you yelp as he throws your legs over his shoulders, fucking you even deeper and hitting your g-spot.

“need it so bad, please” you whimper and he hums at that.

“need what?” he’s back to the teasing again.

“i need to cum, please.”he’s fucking into you faster and harder than before. you clamped around him desperately, your high building up. he felt it, his hand pinching your clit as you moan in pleasure. his thrust only getting harder along with your whining. you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“you can cum princess, don’t worry” his thumb rolls on your clit faster, just like his thrusts. you came with a cry of his name, walls clenched around him as you gripped the back of his neck. seeing you, head thrown back in ecstasy, in pleasure as you cry out his name has him groaning, head dropped into the crook of your neck as his thrusts get faster and sharper, the overstimulation of it drawing out high keening noises from your throat, his cock nudging against your cervix as he spills inside of you.

"fuck, so good for me, princess," he kisses your shoulder, "such a good girl," he murmurs.

he pulls out slowly, putting himself back in his boxers, and lays you down when you mumble that you're too sore to sit up. he grins at that and you shove him, "what-? i'm just proud of myself that's all."

“you’re an idiot, you know that, right?” you tease him.

“you have no idea. i’ve loved you since i was seventeen.” he smiles, a bit nervous with his confession. and you pull him into a kiss.

“i’ve been in love with you since the first time i saw you” you whisper, and he lays down next to you, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

#lila writes #james potter smut #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter angst #james potter fic #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #mauraders #mauraders era #james potter imagine #james potter oneshot #silencesscreams

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runnning-outof-time · 6 months

Text

Actions Speak Louder | Pre-War!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - based off of this post by @thomashelbyswife

Pairing: pre-war!Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy’s never one to say sorry…that doesn’t mean that he isn’t though.

Warnings: one bad word

Word Count: 1404

A/N: M, your headcannon immediately sparked this idea. I just had to write it. And I may have gotten a bit carried away. This is the fastest I’ve written something in a long time. Thank you so much for the inspiration!! I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

Tommy knew he’d messed up the second he entered his bedroom to see (Y/N) standing at the bedside with her arms crossed and a sour look on her face. The problem was he didn’t know what he’d done.

“Hey,” he tried, but she didn’t respond. Instead, she made sure he’d caught her look before she went about taking off her jewelry and getting ready for bed. Tommy frowned at her lack of response before he shut the door and walked over to her. He said her name in a soft voice, hoping that it would get her to turn.

She continued with what she was doing, not yet acknowledging him. Tommy sighed in response. He tipped his head to the side in thought, thinking of how he could get her to look at him. It wasn’t hard to notice that she was not happy with him. Words weren’t working, so maybe actions would.

He reached out and took hold of her hips, holding them for a second to test the waters. (Y/N) didn’t resoond. So he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him so that he could tuck his chin into the crook of her neck. “What’s wrong, love?” he queried, attempting to press his lips to her neck, but she titled away from him. This only added to his confusion.

“I can’t believe you, Tommy,” she huffed under her breath, dropping her hands to his firearms and applying pressure to them, hoping he’d get her hint and let go.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out what her statement meant. Meanwhile she was still pushing down on his forearms. She held the pressure on them until he dropped them from her, allowing her to step away and finally turn to face him.

“What have I done?” he asked after a few moments had passed and his brain-wracking had turned up empty.

(Y/N) scoffed at his question, shaking her head at his answer. “Of course you wouldn’t have remembered.”

“Remembered what?” he was still lost. It only added to her irritation.

“You were supposed to come to dinner with my parents tonight. We were going to go over plans for the wedding. My father was going to give us some money towards it, but now he’s not so sure if he should be letting me marry you at all,” she filled him in on the commitment he’d forgotten while biting on the inside of her cheek in hopes that it’d stop her welled up tears from falling.

Tommy froze upon hearing what he’d missed. His jaw went slack as he wracked his brain in hopes that there’d be some sort of inkling of rememberance of the day’s plans, but there was nothing.

Anger was building up inside (Y/N) with each quiet second that passed. His silence was frustrating her, maybe even more so than his earlier absence was. “Do you have anything to say?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.

“I got caught up at the stables,” he told her, his answer making her scoff and look away as she rolled her eyes. Obviously it wasn’t enough to clear him of his wrongdoings.

Silence fell between them then. A couple beats passed before (Y/N) looked at him again, expectantly this time. It was obvious that she wanted something else from him. But Tommy wasn’t catching onto it. “That’s all you have to say?” she finally questioned him when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to speak unless spoken to.

“Love, I…” the words died on this lips as he then stepped back from her, turning to the armoire as he began undoing the buttons of his waistcoat.

Shock filled (Y/N)’s features as she glared at her fiancé’s back. What are you doing?! she screamed at him in her mind. But nothing was said as she watched him take the waistcoat off and drop the braces from his shoulders. He then worked on taking his boots off, kicking them to sit next to the wardrobe before he finally turned back around. (Y/N) was still glaring at him.

“Are you seri—” the exasperated question got caught in (Y/N)’s throat as Tommy cut the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her frame.

His hug was tight, and he swayed her from side to side as his arms stayed fastened around her waist despite her hands pressing against his shoulders.

“Tommy, you can’t just…whoa!” the direction of her statement changed as he spun them and dropped both of their bodies to the bed.

His arms unraveled from her waist as they were falling so that he wouldn’t crush her with his body weight. They moved up to trap her underneath him. He immediately tucked his face into her neck and began placing kisses to the skin he found there.

“Tommy,” she breathed as she tried to push him off of her, but to no avail. “Tom, you’re not being fair!” she shrieked as his lips connected with the sensitive spot on her neck; a spot that he knew all too well.

His kisses trailed up to her jaw and across her cheek before his lips found the corner of hers. The feeling was now driving (Y/N) wild, slowly making her forget what she’d been upset over as all of her senses became focused on his actions.

He pulled away just slightly so that he could look at her, his eyes traveling over her face; seeing that her look of frustration was slowly slipping away. “Fuck your father’s money. I’ll get what we need to pay for our wedding,” he told her before his lips matched hers, properly this time.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathed when they pulled away, biting on her lip to hide her smile as she took his cheeks into her hands, lifting his face further away from hers. Their eyes met and he cracked a smile, one that made her insides flutter. She tried to act angry, scrunching her nose and eyebrows in hopes that her true feelings didn’t show. Tommy found it adorable.

“What?” he asked her, reaching up to brush a piece of hair from her face.

“You’re trying to get yourself out of this,” she stated matter-of-factly.

“Is it working?”

“No.”

Tommy pouted upon hearing her response, and he dropped his head against her chest, burying his face into her sternum and breathing in her intoxicating sent before he let out a whine.

That did (Y/N) in. She tried to hide it, but the shaking of her chest was a dead giveaway that she laughed at his actions. He clocked that immediately, his hands moving to her sides where her shirt had rode up so that he could brush his fingers against her sensitive skin. She shrieked at the feeling, squirming under him as she tried to get him to stop. Now her anger was the furthest thing from her mind.

His actions continued until she managed to grab his hands and remove them from her sides. She then lifted his face again, making him look at her once more as she tried with all of her might to keep a straight face. “You’re ridiculous, Thomas,” she told him, unable to stop the smirk from tugging one corner of her lips upwards.

“Am I forgiven?” he asked with raised eyebrows, waiting on bated breath for her answer. When it didn’t come right away, he jutted his bottom lip outwards, hoping that pouting might help.

(Y/N) sucked in a breath at the sight in front of her. She just couldn’t resist him when he was like this. Somehow, he’d managed to make her mood do a complete flip. His persistence was something that drew her to him, but it was times like these when she hated it. She wanted to stay angry at him, but she really couldn’t. Not when his lips were looking more kissable by the second.

“Hmm?” he asked her, getting antsy with each second she stayed quiet.

(Y/N) bit on her bottom lip, sending him one last glare before giving into him and mumbling a “yes”. Tommy couldn’t even celebrate. She didn’t give him time to. The second she spoke, she pulled his face to hers so that their lips could crash together. It wasn’t like he was going to dispute it though…her kiss told him everything he needed.

Read Part 2 -> HERE

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @dlmlufics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @areyenotfondofmelobster @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

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shadeysprings · 6 months

Text

So Good. So Bad.

—Stalker!Ex-Boyfriend!Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader

Summary — The Halloween party you and your friends attend turns upside down all because of your jealous ex.

Warnings — noncon/dubcon, toxic relationship, mass murd3r, k!lling spree, somewhat public sex, cuckolding of some sort, almost drugging, Lloyd being toxic and psychotic. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.

Word Count — 7.2K

A/N — I know I said Sunday but my muse said no. Story #2 for my FREAKtober Fest and my second time exploring Lloyd as a character. The writing process was tedious yet exciting. The title and inspiration of this fic was taken from the song ILYSB.

Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

Aside from having the same shift as your best friends, restocking is the only thing you like about your work. Although it’s physical, it’s mostly mindless tasks done repeatedly, and the black shirt you wear acts like a shield from annoying customers who pester the ones in blue.

Your shift starts like clockwork; time in, grab the products from the warehouse, and begin stocking the shelves until you have to clock out. Though today was a bit more taxing than you expected with the cable aisle once more in disarray and you being tasked to reorganize and set everything in its proper place. You don’t understand the need to put in so much effort into something that will just end up messy at the end of the day.

But you do it anyway.

Upon arriving at the aisle, you begin sorting out the boxes and dismantling the hooks from the shelves. You’re happy enough to be doing this alone—the quicker you work, the faster you’ll be able to relax and waste the time away. That is, until Kate stands beside you, seemingly tensed as she starts helping you.

“He’s here again. TV aisle.” You don’t need for her to say anything more to know who she’s referring to and it just makes you sigh as you grab a box of an HDMI cable and hang it on the hook. “Jensen’s trying to help him but he’s being pushy about talking to you. How does he always know when you’re here? Didn’t you already change shifts?” She asks.

How you wish you knew the answer to that. “I did.” You say in exasperation. “Did he say I was on break?”

“You know we can’t lie. Besides, we have no idea if he already saw you before he came in. He could have seen you while you were on your smoke break.” She expounds and you feel a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Just—talk to him. Tell him to leave. If he tries anything, we’ll call the cops.”

“Yeah. Like they’ll do anything about it. Vince wouldn’t even allow that—bad publicity and all.” The sigh that once more leaves your lips is despondent. You don’t know what else you can do to make him leave you alone. “Fine. I’ll deal with him.” The box in your hand ends up being crumpled from annoyance.

“We’ll be keeping watch.” She says, a measly attempt to comfort you. But you take it anyway with a smile and push away from your cart to hopefully turn away the pesky client.

It’s been almost two years since you broke up with Lloyd. The sweet air that he once had turned bitter when you saw just how jealous of a person he was. You thought it was cute at first, comforting him after a fit and telling him that he was the only man in your life—until it wasn’t and he threatened your friend, John, even challenging him to a fight at the back of the club when he placed his arm on your shoulder as he introduced you to his girlfriend.

Since then, he changed and the relationship you thought was almost perfect, snowballed into endless fights and the revelation of the toxicity he kept hidden. You thought you could make him realize that there was truly nothing to worry about, that his jealousy was misplaced. But you were very wrong, especially after he demanded you quit your job and move in with him instead. You’d make a really good housewife, was what he said and you knew you had to draw the line.

It wasn’t the life you wanted. And it pained you to leave because you did love him but with the way he acted, you questioned if he truly felt the same for you for even the simplest of things, he failed to trust you. And ever since, he hasn’t stopped following you. Everywhere you went, at work or home, he was there, simply watching, observing and you’ve done all you can to push him away. But no matter how hard you try, he can’t take the word no.

The first thing you notice when you see him is the twitch of his mustache when he smirks. He looks pristine as ever with his yellow polo shirt and white slacks that match his black loafers—a complete mismatch to your black shirt, jeans and sneakers uniform. And it has you thinking, what the hell did he see in you?

“The new models just came in yesterday,” You hear Jensen tell him but it’s obvious that Lloyd is not listening, certain that he’s staring at you even with his blue eyes covered by sunglasses. “I can show them—”

“Ah, just the girl I was looking for.” He says, cutting off Jensen and stepping past him to head over to you.

“Sir, she’s one of our warehouse staff. I’d be happy to assist you in—”

“Beat it, nerd!” Lloyd snaps as he stops to face Jensen, rolling your eyes at his misplaced annoyance. “She’s the one I want to talk to.”

“It’s okay, Jen. I got this.” You tell your co-worker, gesturing for him to leave.

“You sure? I can stay if you need any he—”

“Are you fucking deaf?! She said she’s got it, loser!” Lloyd turns from where he stands and you’re suddenly alarmed to see him charge over at Jensen. “Beat it or I’ll make you.” He threatens and you immediately wedge yourself between both men when you see Jensen isn’t backing down.

You place your hands against Lloyd’s chest, stopping him from getting any closer. “Lloyd, stop it! Not here—Christ!” Your voice raises an octave when you scold him, facing Jensen right after and unintentionally glaring at him. “Just go, Jake! I said I got this!” It surprises you that you sound quite like Lloyd but it doesn’t deter you from pushing Lloyd back further.

You hear Jensen speak but don’t understand him as you grab Lloyd by the hand and pull him over to the other aisle, heat rising up your neck when you notice several of the shoppers looking in your direction. There’s never any peace with Lloyd—everywhere he goes, chaos follows.

Once you’ve pulled him away from prying eyes, you startle when he stops walking and tugs on your hand, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist as he holds you close. He gives you a sickeningly sweet grin, effectively trapping your hand against his chest.

“What the fuck do you want, Lloyd? Why are you here?” You bite.

“I’m looking for a TV.” He says smoothly, “Besides, I missed my little Kitten and I know that kitty of yours misses me too.”

You want to roll your eyes at his crass comment. “You know I work in the damn warehouse. I know nothing about them.” You reason, grunting as you try to get away from his hold. “We have a sales specialist who can help you with that.”

“Oh, but I want you to show me the options.” The hair on his lip twitches when he smirks, “Or I can complain to your manager that his employees aren’t helpful to their customers.”

“Seriously? You’re going to act like a fucking Karen?”

“Would you like to see me try?” He challenges.

That’s the last thing you needed from him and you don’t question that he would stay true to his word and make sure his complaint reached top management. Letting out a sigh, you nod at his request and show your best customer service smile before saying, “How can I help you?”

Your shift finally ends and you can’t wait to go home to wash off the day. After Lloyd pestered you with all the TV selections you showed him, he left with nothing and you tried your best not to show your annoyance at him though he knows he’s riled you up—he always does.

Bidding your goodbyes to Kate and the rest as you leave the store with Jensen in tow. He offered a ride to the station—something he always does and one you couldn’t refuse after the long day. You just want to go home and curl up in your room and hope that Lloyd doesn’t show himself again after that awful stint.

“Tough day, huh?” Jensen asks as he brings the engine to life and drives off from the parking lot.

“Yeah. I’m just glad it’s over.” You respond, leaning back against your seat while you hug your backpack against your chest.

“Yeah.” He echoes, hearing his fingers tap against the wheel. “The line at the tech depot was pretty long too. Seems like every computer within town is falling apart.” He jokes, and you think it’s an attempt to lighten the mood. You still feel tense with the altercation he had with Lloyd—you just wish for once one of them would listen to you.

“Hey, sorry about earlier.” He says and you visibly cringe when he mentions it. “I know you could handle him but knowing that he’s bothering you, I couldn’t just step away from—”

“Look. Jensen.” You sigh as you turn to face him. “I appreciate your concern, really, I do. But no offense, it’s none of your business. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me each time that idiot shows up. The others stay away because of how reckless he can be and I just don’t want you to get caught in the line of fire. Just let me handle him.”

You know full well why Jensen couldn’t get past that. After admitting to you his feelings since he found out you were single, he’s been subtly dropping hints about asking you out. You’d probably have taken up the offer if you met him before Lloyd but the trauma your ex has imprinted on you just leaves you thinking that any man who would dare go near would be the same.

Silence fills the small space, along with a flicker of tension. You think Jensen would disapprove of your words, that he would insist on giving his unwarranted help. But all you hear is a sigh and you see the nod of his head.

“Okay.” He utters, the rubber covering the steering wheel squeaking when his hold on it tightens. “I won’t meddle any—”

“JENSEN!” You shout and grab onto the handle of your seat when a car suddenly turns and blocks your path, Jensen stepping hard onto the brakes.

“What the fuck?!” He shouts as he rolls down his window but you, on the other hand, sit still when you see Conrad, one of Lloyd’s buddies, step out of the car and walk over to Jensen’s side. “What the hell is wrong with you, bro?!” Jensen growls as he unlocks his door, ready to step out.

But you’re too late to warn him—Conrad pulling open the door and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, trapping him against the side of his car. Lloyd then suddenly appears, with Chris in tow. He goes first to Jensen, the latter flinching when he raises his fist at him, threatening to lay a punch before leaning down and framing his arms over the edge of the window.

Your eyes dart to Jensen when he grunts against Conrad’s grip, glaring at Lloyd when he stares you down. “What the fuck are you doing here, Lloyd?!”

His eyes meet yours, darkness swirling around the blue and you can already tell that he’s angry. “What are you doing here, Kitten?” He says, a cocky grin on his face. “You couldn’t wait for me to pick you up so you got into this loser’s car?” He tuts, chin nodding over to your side and your door suddenly opens, Chris, pulling you out aggressively.

You look around, hoping to call for help but you curse Jensen when you notice he went through the back roads. No one ever passes here, especially at this hour, and now the both of you are at the mercy of your ex who you see looming over your co-worker.

You gasp when Lloyd sends him a punch, trying to pull away from Chris’ grasp to help Jensen, but it’s no use. You’re rendered helpless as you watch him send another blow, making the other bowl over to which Conrad pushes him further to the ground.

“Stay away from my girl, asshole!” Lloyd threatens before spitting at the other man, your eyes grow wide when Lloyd takes you from Chris and drags you to his car.

You hear the sound of tires being slashed and several glass breaking along with Jensen’s pained grunts. You knew Lloyd could be reckless but you’ve never seen him this way before. He opens the passenger door and pushes you in, slamming the door harshly before getting inside himself. He doesn’t wait for his companions before driving off, your hand grabbing the side of the door with the speed he’s going.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shout. “Let me out of here!”

“You keep testing me, Kitten. Running off with other men like that.” He growls and you scream when he takes a sharp left, cars honking left and right at how careless he’s driving.

“Are you that daft?! We’re over, Lloyd! We’ve been for years!” You shout amidst the panic that rolls through your veins, eventually getting the courage to hit him on the shoulder when he gets on the main road.

But you soon realize your mistake when he stops at an alley and his hand immediately wraps around your neck, pulling you towards him. You grab on his wrist when he squeezes tight, your eyes wide as you fear that he would choke you, kill you on the spot.

“Lloyd—” you gasp, slapping on his hand as tears fall from your eyes. “Y—you’re hurting me.”

“I will only say this once, Kitten, so you better listen.” His hot breath spreads across your cheek when he pulls you closer, the tick on his jaw setting you on edge. “You’re mine and no one, not even you, can change that fact. Got it?”

All you can do is nod, to agree with every word he says if it means you get to keep your life.

“Good.” He huffs, the anger in him somewhat seeping away, loosening his hold around your neck. “Good girl.” The praise that used to send shivers of desire within you now has your stomach twisting in disgust. “And if I see that weirdo or any other man going near you again, you know what will happen.”

You nod once more and gasp when he completely releases you, leaning against your seat as you try to regulate your breathing.

He drives once more and you’re thankful he’s slower this time, doing your best to stay calm as you look out the window. “Where are you taking me?” You ask, although you already have an inkling of his answer when you recognize the area you’re in and the direction he’s driving to. You haven’t driven in and out of these roads for almost two years. After you and Lloyd broke up.

The smirk he gives you is enough of an answer.

“Are we going to pre-game before the party?” Bucky asks as he plops down onto the couch in the employee lounge, shaking a tumbler of his protein shake in his hand. “Last year’s booze ran out so fast, I went home seeing straight. I don’t want to be sober on Halloween night.”

“You never want to be sober, Barnes,” Kate comments as she rolls her eyes, yet her interest seems to already be piqued. “But he’s right. Are we going to drink before the party or should we just hit the club after? I have a friend who can get us in at this club for free.”

“That could work but I’d rather enjoy the night drunk then get wasted at the club.” Bucky responds, taking a sip of his drink. “We could just meet up at someone’s place and pre-game there, then we can all go to the party together. Would save us gas too if we just take one car.”

“Who even lives near the venue?”

You tune yourself out from their conversation and stab your fork into your lunch as the Halloween party is the last of your concerns. Besides, you don’t think Lloyd would be happy with you attending and you wouldn’t dare give him the opportunity to ruin the event for you and your friends or give him any reason to be mad again.

Your friends exchange ideas, listing down people’s names of who they’ll be inviting for their plan of drinks and whose place they’ll be crashing when the door of the lounge opens and you freeze in your seat when Bucky calls out Jensen’s name.

“Hey buddy! You live downtown, right?” Bucky asks, patting the space beside him to which Jensen accepts. “We were thinking that—the fuck happened to your face?”

Your grip on your fork tightens when you chance a peek at both men, feeling your stomach drop when you see the bruise staining Jensen’s cheek.

“Oh that?” Jensen chuckles, his fingers running against the side of his face. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I slammed against my door frame.” You know he’s lying, though you’re somewhat thankful he didn’t expose what Lloyd and his friends did. Still, you feel the guilt nipping at the back of your neck.

“You’re such a klutz, Jake.” Kate says with a laugh.

Jensen makes a face in her direction and you look away when his eyes meet yours. “Why were you guys asking if I lived downtown?” He suddenly asks, shifting the topic.

Bucky takes the lead again. “We were thinking of doing drinks before heading to the party. And since you live closer to the venue, maybe we could just meet at your place?”

“Depends. Do I have to provide the booze?”

“We can bring some and you prepare some.” Kate responds. “Sounds good?”

Jensen hums audibly as he thinks of his decision. You feel the tension circling around you as you sense his eyes on you while he speaks. You don’t dare to look up, keeping your focus trained on the lifeless pasta in your lunch container.

“I’m in. Though who’s coming? My apartment isn’t that big so I can’t really hold a huge crowd.” He finally says.

“I’m there.” Bucky says, mouth full of his protein shake. “Tell me what you guys want and I’ll bring it.”

“Me too. Though I’m bringing my boyfriend along—that cool with you guys?” No one seems to object and you look up to face your best friend when she nudges you. “You’re coming too, right? Amber’s dragging Nick along and we won’t be complete without you. I even planned this super cool costume for us.”

You feel your body shake at her question. The pressure of going to the event with your best friends growing in your chest, colliding with the added stress of meeting at Jensen’s place and the fear of Lloyd finding out about the plan.

“I don’t know.” You say with a frown, closing up your container as your appetite has already turned sour from the anxiety crawling up your spine. “You know I don’t do well at parties. I’ll just stink up the mood.”

“Aww come on. Please?” She begs with those puppy eyes she always uses to convince you. “You’ll be with us and if it gets too much, we’ll leave. And if you’re worried about that psycho ex of yours showing up, I can just show Andy in his direction and he’ll show him a thing or two.” You want to latch onto the assurance she gives you but she doesn’t know Lloyd like you do.

Still, you could probably think of a way to convince him—he’s never been apprehensive of you spending time with your friends. Except it’s not only them who would be with you; Bucky and Jensen would be there as well, and you’ve already witnessed what he’s done to the latter, the evidence staring you in the face.

And that would mean you would have to lie. Though is it really lying if you’re just omitting out the information he doesn’t want to hear?

But the plan didn’t go as expected.

Instead of heading over to the company party after drinks at Jensen’s apartment, like what was discussed, you find yourself nursing a red cup full of shitty alcohol in a dimly lit house while surrounded by your friend group and people you only assume to be Bucky’s college frat buddies.

You tug on the skirt of your black dress that’s a little too short for your liking, the cat headband already irritating you with how long you’ve been wearing it. You don’t know why you’ve agreed to Kate’s idea for the three of you to imitate the costume from that movie—you’re just glad she didn’t push you to wear a bodysuit and that Amber was happy to trade with the mouse theme you were originally assigned to do.

Speaking of your best friends, you walk around the living room as you try to look for them, no longer wanting to be alone amidst the foreign crowd. But you frown when you see Kate at the corner of the room, her boyfriend’s hand planted firmly on her ass while they make out. Amber, on the other hand, was just on the other side, with Nick barricading her against the wall like some prison guard. Though with the smile you see on her face, she doesn’t seem to mind being isolated by him.

Your eyes then dart towards the front door when the cheers of men grow louder than the music blasting in the house. Three people walk in, each one wearing a mask over some effortless casual clothes underneath. But the one wearing the iconic ghostface catches your attention, noticing him looking your way with the other two standing behind him following suit. There’s a somewhat eerie familiarity to their masked gaze that makes you look away and leave from where you stand.

“Not really what you’re expecting, huh?” You startle when someone says too close against your ear, making you look up and chuckle when you see Jensen smiling at you, an opened beer bottle in his hand.

“It feels like I’m back in college attending a frat party.” You comment, making the both of you laugh and tapping your cup against his bottle when he raises it to you.

“You went to a lot of parties in college?”

You shake your head. “Not really. Wasn’t really a party type.”

“Same. But I had no choice with my roommate dragging me to every party.”

You have no idea why Jensen is speaking to you—after what he endured with Lloyd and his buddies, you’d think he’d steer clear of you, probably even fear you thinking that history would repeat itself. But deep down, you’re happy to be in his company, choosing it over being alone in a place you don’t even know half the people in.

The both of you chat for a while, finding a less crowded spot in the kitchen and helping yourselves with the food and the drinks that are out and free for the taking. You still feel bad when the bruise on his cheek remains prominent, though with his purple button up and baggy gray slacks, you think it blends well with his cosplay of Bruce Banner when you asked him who he was supposed to be.

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Jen.” You tell him with a frown, leaning against the edge of the counter as you look down at your drink. “I didn’t think Lloyd would actually hurt anyone.”

“It’s fine. It’s just a bruise.” He assures, giving your arm a pat.

“What about your car? Didn’t they trash it?”

“They did. But good thing I have insurance.”

It surprises you how positive the air around him still is despite the misfortune he’s met because of you. You almost envy his happiness, and the happiness that your friends have and you find it almost unfair that Lloyd wasn’t like Andy and Nick, doting and loving towards their girls, when both those men are his friends. You wish he’d learn a thing or two from them about handling relationships the proper way.

Sadness then swirls around you as you contemplate on what your life has become; always scared and cautious, that Lloyd would hurt another because of his jealousy, because of his unspoken obsession to completely possess you.

Your train of thought stops when you feel your cup being taken from your grasp, Jensen replacing it with a fresh one, fizz floating to the top of the amber liquid. “Jack and Coke.” He says. “Your drink looked a little stale.”

But before you could even take a sip, you hear spine tingling screams coming from the living room. You think it’s some scary prank someone has pulled on another, you and Jensen looking at each other and pushing away from your perch to investigate the commotion. But in just a flash of a second, the whole house is in chaos, people running, scrambling for their lives while the three masked men you saw earlier run amok, shooting and stabbing the party goers one by one and leaving them bloody and dead on the ground.

No sound escapes your lips as you’re gripped by fear upon witnessing the bloodbath, your body refusing to move even when your brain tells it to. But the hand that grabs onto your arm has you shouting in shock, only to be muffled by another and your eyes wide with horror thinking that they’ve got you. But to your relief, it’s only Jensen and he places a finger against his lips, telling you to be quiet before pulling you amongst the havoc for a way out.

You try the backdoor first but for some unknown reason it wouldn’t budge open no matter how hard he yanks it. He tries the window above the kitchen sink as well but just like the door, it’s screwed shut. He pulls on you once more, leading you down the hall this time, the rave music playing loudly in your ears pumping the adrenaline in your veins while the sound of the screams die out one by one.

He makes it to the end of the hall, the staircase free from the killers but with bodies lying lifeless on the steps—a woman with her throat cut wide open and a man with a bullet right between his eyes. He looks back at you, telling you to be quiet once more as he gestures that you both will be heading up. But before he could even set foot on the first step, one of the masked men appears and kicks him forward, making him topple over the corpses.

A scream is then wretched from your throat when you’re suddenly pulled back, the stranger trapping you against him while he positions his knife just under your chin, feeling the sharp edge of the blade kiss your skin. The man from the stairs kicks Jensen in the stomach then again, your co-worker writhing in pain as another joins his attacker, this time with a metal bar which he slams against his chest.

“Hello, nerd! Long time no see.” The one who kicked him greets, the timbre of his voice making your heart pound against your chest. No! “Whatcha doin’ with my girl, huh?” The stranger asks before pulling off his mask and you freeze when you see Lloyd’s face. He then turns to you, a cocky smirk playing on his lips and sending you a wink before he asks, “Whatcha doin’ here, Kitten? Thought you were at a company party?” The sly twist in his voice has you on edge.

The smirk on his face then fades, turning into a scowl when he nods at the man who’s got you trapped against him. You’re then released from his hold but not for long as Lloyd simply takes his place, grabbing you by your arm, wincing from his tight grip and dragging you into the living room where you see countless bodies lying lifeless on the ground and the walls of the house painted crimson.

He shoves you against the couch where you fall against something cold and sticky, only to realize too late, crying out to see that it’s Bucky you landed on; his blood staining your dress and your hands. But you’re then pushed away from him, falling back on the cushions as Lloyd kicks his body off the surface to take the space he once occupied.

You feel like you’re about to convulse as you cry when Lloyd wraps an arm around you. You try to push away from him, not wanting to be near him but he shakes you like a rag doll, making you stop before gesturing over to someone you cannot see as your eyes are blurry from your tears and remain locked on your dead friend’s feet.

“Gentlemen, thank you for all your help.” Lloyd says when the music finally dies and you look up, surprised to see Andy and Nick standing unscathed with only splatters of blood staining their costumes. But what has you more jarred is seeing Kate and Amber bound and gagged, sitting against the floor, they’re eyes wide in fear as they squirm to be free from their restraints.

You’re suddenly off your seat and on your feet, determined to get to them, to help set them free and run away from this horrid place. But Lloyd is quick to yank you back, grunting when you fall onto his lap and his strong arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place.

“Relax, Kitten. They’re safe.” Lloyd assures, his gloved finger grazing against your cheek. “Just had to go through some extra measures to keep them out of the way.”

“We did our part, Hansen.” Andy says, pulling Kate from the ground who forcefully tries to pull away from his grip while Nick does the same with Amber, who in turn quietly follows while tears keep running down her face. “Just don’t forget the deal.”

“Yeah yeah. Just make sure your bitches know what to say if they’re questioned.” Lloyd responds with disinterest. “Meet me by the end of this week for your payment.”

It’s all the words the men exchange before dragging away your friends, their wide and fearful eyes being the last you see before the door closes behind them.

The sound of wood being dragged across the tiled floor then makes you look forward, seeing Chris and Conrad, now with their masks off, placing a chair in front of you and Lloyd while the latter drags Jensen’s beaten body and forces him to take a seat. Both men then go to work, effectively binding their captive’s wrists behind his back with tape and his ankles to the legs of the chair.

The sight of his damaged state breaks your heart as you helplessly feel guilty upon thinking that everything that has happened to him is all your fault. You never should have come here in the first place as soon as you found out about the change of plans. You should have just gone home or better yet, you should have just stayed at home where you know Lloyd would be.

Yet the universe could be so cruel.

“Look what we found on him.” Chris says in a serious tone before pulling out a small ziplock bag from Jensen’s shirt pocket and tossing it over your lap. You glance down at the clear packaging, seeing several small white tablets enclosed in it. What?

“Lover boy here was so desperate to get laid he brought roofies with him.” Conrad adds with a laugh, pushing on the back of Jensen’s head hard that his body jolts forward.

The bag is then taken from your lap, Lloyd holding it up close to his face as he inspects the white circles. You yelp when you’re suddenly shoved off his lap, falling over to the floor while Lloyd steps over to Jensen and grabs him by his hair, pulling his head back while he holds the baggie in front of him, breathing heavily like some wild animal through gritted teeth.

“You were gonna drug my girl, weren’t you?!” Lloyd spits out his words and on Jensen’s face, tossing the tablets in Conrad’s direction, your throat eliciting a gasp when he holds a knife to his neck this time. “Did you take any drink from him?!” He asks, but it takes a second for you to realize that he’s talking to you. He turns in your direction, eyes dark with anger. “Any fizzy shit this asshole gave you?!”

You don’t understand what he’s asking, why the sudden interrogation—then it hits you. In the kitchen while you were busy with your thoughts, Jensen took your stale drink, as he claimed, and replaced it with another. No—it can’t be. He said it had coke in it and sodas make a fizz.

“I won’t ask again, Kitten.” Lloyd pushes and you nod out of fear, knowing that he would find out that you’re lying to him if you said otherwise.

The look on Lloyd’s face shifts into something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand. Like something sinister has possessed him with the way his lips curl in a playful manner.

A groan leaves Jensen’s lips when Lloyd releases him and you push yourself back against the couch when he goes for you next.

“Lloyd, please—!” you beg as he tucks the knife in his pocket, yanking you from the ground and shoving you forward, planting you firmly in front of Jensen before forcing you to bend over. “Let’s just go home—you already beat him!” You cry, pushing against Jensen’s thighs when Lloyd doesn’t budge and keeps dipping you further.

You feel like you’re going to gag when the metallic stench fills your nose especially with how close you are to your bleeding co-worker and you attempt once more to push away from him, no longer wanting the both of you to suffer. But the world suddenly feels like it’s turning upside down when you feel Lloyd pushing up the skirt of your dress, a grunt leaving his chest when he roughly rips your panties off your thighs.

“Now, don’t be like that, Kitten.” He says in a syrupy tone. “Don’t you want to at least show him his sick fantasy of fucking you?” The tell tale sound of his zipper being undone fills your ears and you’re shocked frozen, scared to the wits end that Lloyd would take you here amongst the dead and in front of your friend who he’s beaten to a pulp.

You look away from Jensen when you feel Lloyd’s cock brush against your ass, his tip teasing your pussy lips. You then shout when Lloyd grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to look back at your friend who has one eye swollen shut, while the other is stained with blood and brimming with unshed tears.

In one swift move, Lloyd enters you, gasping for air at his sudden intrusion. Pain blooms at the pit of your stomach when he doesn’t allow your walls to adjust and begins fucking you at a brutal pace, your nails digging into Jensen’s thighs as you try to endure your abuser’s torment.

Your body jolts against the chair, following Lloyd’s callous thrusts. You’re then washed in humiliation when you hear Chris and Conrad snickering at your sides, seeing them watch you with perverse eyes, sickened to the core as the thought that they enjoy what they are witnessing comes to your mind.

Both men then hold Jensen in place when he starts squirming in his seat that he almost topples over. Lloyd then abruptly pulls you up, pressing your back against his chest but only to grab on the straps of your dress and harshly pull them down from your shoulders, having your breasts spill into the open.

“She’s got perfect tits, doesn’t she, lover boy?” Lloyd taunts as he keeps up the pace of his hips, grabbing your breasts, kneading, squeezing, and pushing them together. “Why don’t you feel how soft they are?” And it’s as if things couldn’t get any worse, Lloyd moves you forward along with him, tipping forward when your knees hit the edge of the seat. His hands grab onto the back of the chair and you wail in horror when he forces your breasts to press against Jensen’s face, the sticky blood smearing all over your skin.

Lloyd laughs and so do his friends and all you feel is shame and disgust at what he’s doing to you—that the man you once loved would hurt you in the sickest way possible.

A gasp is once more wretched from your throat when Lloyd slams hard against your cunt, feeling his thick cock slide even deeper when your walls grow wet, the toe curling sensation from his tip repeatedly hitting that sweet spot of yours trying to take over. You feel like a woman possessed as you grit your teeth, pushing hard against the unwanted pleasure that slowly begins to crawl up your skin and seep into your bones, not wanting to give Lloyd the satisfaction that, despite such circumstances, he still manages to make you feel such a way.

Yet your attempts are deemed fruitless when you whimper and eventually turn into a moaning mess, your body responding to each of Lloyd’s touch; your pussy walls clenching around his throbbing cock with each thrust he makes and how your skin shivers, singing each note in sheer perfection as you climb higher and higher to your peak.

“You see that, nerd? You see how she turns into a fucking slut when you fuck her good?” He goads between heavy breaths, adjusting the position of his legs to have you lean more against his victim, his hands grabbing onto your tits once again only to rub it further against Jensen’s face, feeling the bristles of his goatee rub roughly against your skin.

“Too bad you’ll never get to have this.”

Lloyd's hips begin moving more erratically, the sound of your skins slapping with one another filling the stolid air. You swallow thickly, refusing for any more moans to leave your lips as you’re slowly enveloped in ecstasy, Lloyd’s cock pulsing deep in your pussy.

A blinding white light suddenly fills your vision and you shake uncontrollably as you come hard around Lloyd’s shaft. Tears once again spring from your eyes and you’re confused about what causes it. Is it embarrassment from feeling the pleasure? Pain from Lloyd’s roughness? Or is it sadness of how the evening of fun turned into a nightmare? You can’t think as you’re dissolved into nothing, your body floating in orgasmic bliss.

Lloyd follows soon, growling low and animalistic as he keeps his cock buried balls deep, painting your pussy walls with streaks of white as he spills his seed, filling you to the brim.

You think that it’s finally over, that Lloyd’s objective has finally been met. But a life draining gasp then fills your ears—not from you or from Lloyd but from Jensen. And it’s only then that you realize what has happened when you see Lloyd’s hand gripped on the hilt of the knife with the blade stuck deep into Jensen’s chest.

“No!” You cry out as Lloyd stabs him repeatedly, grunts of passionate anger escaping him each time he sinks the blade into the body before you.

Tears of despair and horror are what fall from your eyes, closing them as you hope that this is all a bad dream. You ball your hands into fists as you try your hardest to close in on yourself, to leave this place of torment that Lloyd has condemned you into.

Yet, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t. With the sound of metal hitting bone, along with the devious laugh of the men around you and the way your body shakes from Lloyd’s continuous blow, you’re repeatedly pulled back into the present, unwillingly witnessing the murder of your friend.

You suddenly feel your body shake, your chest tightening that you think the room is losing air and the smell of blood getting stronger and stronger that it makes bile ride up your throat. With Lloyd’s final stab, he pulls you away with him, leaving the knife buried in Jensen’s throat. The world around you suddenly turns, your vision spinning uncontrollably that before you could even let out a scream, everything suddenly goes dark.

You sit inside the employee lounge along with the others in somber idleness. The police came over just before the store opened and ordered that it remained closed for the rest of the day to make way for an investigation. Vince wasn’t happy with the commands of the law enforcers but there’s nothing he could do—there was nothing anybody could do.

A massacre, one of the officers said. A mass murder, another voices, declaring that some of the victims were employees of the store. You already knew who it was—Bucky and Jensen.

One by one, the employees were interrogated, some taking minutes while others taking hours. You glance at Kate who sits across from you on the lunch table, noting the small bruise on the side of her neck. You try not to imagine what Andy told her or did to her that night. You don’t even dare to ask as you refuse to relive the grim evening, nor want to feed her any memory of it.

You sit up once your name is called and you feel the eyes of your other co-workers land on you. The detective, stout and looking somewhat annoyed to be doing such a thing, looks your way and asks your name once more to confirm your identity.

He beckons you to follow him and you do, but not before looking down at your best friend when she grabs your hand, seeing the fear etched in her eyes. You give her a small smile and give her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting her go and following the detective into the other room.

You do as you’re told when he tells you to sit, staring down at the round table that sits between the both of you as you wait for his first question.

“I’m Detective Bodecker.” He starts, his belly protruding as he leans back against his seat. “And I just want to ask you a few questions regarding your co-workers. Is that okay?”

You nod.

“Do you need some water? Anything to make you comfortable?”

You shake your head.

“Very well. Let’s begin.” He hums and grabs his notebook from the desk, flipping a page. “Where were you on the night of October 31st?”

Your mind suddenly begins reliving the night in question. Jensen’s bloody face and Lloyd’s devious smile playing in your head. You blink those thoughts away, not wanting to give out any information on your face.

Taking a breath, you begin your tale.

“I was at a party—”

#lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x f!reader #so good so bad #the gray man #chris evans characters #dark fic #horror fic #beanie's freaktober fest #freaktober fest #shadeysprings fics

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lilac-5ky · 6 months

Text

i wanna tie the knot (Satoru xFem!Reader)

Chapter 1: Forget me not

Story Masterlist | Masterlist | Requests | AO3

Plot: Your boyfriend takes you on a romantic getaway that will potentially change the rest of your lives.

Themes: MDNI, Established Relationship, Vacation, Teasing, Bickering, Tooth-rotting Fluff, Comedy, Onsen Smut, Sensory Deprivation (bondage and blindfolds), Breeding Kink, Oral (f. receiving), Multiple Orgasms, Yukatas, Snarky!Fem!Reader who is done with Gojo's Shenanigans but loves him regardless, Soft!Dom Gojo, Unsolicited Digimon References, and Bucketloads of Pet Names (baby, princess, bunny, honeypie, sugarplum, and every other food nickname you can think of)

Word Count: 13.3k (i was inspired, sue me. rest of it will be smaller. i think.)

check a/n at the bottom

“Last one up the hill is a loser!” Those were the parting words you left your boyfriend with before you shot in the direction of the fields, wind in your hair and pollen in the air, Satoru’s voice barely audible over the light chuckle you shed behind.

You sprint across a sea of flowers in every shape, hue, and kind—from exuberant red poppies to bashful pink asters—spanning as far as the eye can see. You want nothing more than to spare a moment and halt; breathe into the combined aroma of the autumn blossoms before winter hushes them for good, but you can’t. The faster you run, the smaller his head becomes, until it’s a mere blotch of white on the faraway horizon.

You rest assured in your victory, a breathless smile forming on your lips as you reach the top. You glance over your shoulder, confident that the man who minutes ago (literally) flew you to Ikoma on another of his spontaneous 2-day trips is still there, lamenting ever giving you a headstart. However, no matter how hard you squint, you cannot seem to find him.

“What are we looking at?” A low-pitched voice scares the wits out of you, hummed near the shell of your ear in a way that’s exclusive to the cheeky tone it carries.

“S-Satoru!” You yelp, almost throwing yourself down the stiff slope.

“Satoru?” The man in question repeats his own name, cocking his head to the side with genuine curiosity. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”

“What are you—”

“I only know of a winner,” he points at his chest, successfully diverting your attention from the hand that rises to flick your forehead with such force that you stagger backward.

Both your fall and his punchline are postponed, one awaiting the other while you’re left floating mid-air, the infinity between your head and his boot serving as a safety net.

“And a loser.” Satoru concludes, his grin as bright as day, when he retracts his foot and lets you plummet into the fluffy flowerbed.

In the time it takes for you to blow a tuft of hair from your eyes and prop yourself onto your elbows, Satoru’s already taken his phone out and snapped as many pictures as humanely possible. You aren’t fazed. You’re used to his constant leg-pulling, as well as his 8895-picture collection of funny faces you’ve made over the course of your 7-year relationship.

Definitely in the 9000s now.

“Most guys would help their girlfriend up instead of calling her a loser.” You frown.

“Most guys wouldn’t date a slowpoke.” He gleefully chimes, zooming in on your face. “Come on. Smiiile.”

You poke your tongue out, and he snaps what is hopefully the last embarrassing frame of the day. Your frown resumes, downturned mouth and eyes narrowed at the wonderful azure sky.

“Good enough. Here, here.” He offers you his hand. “Don’t go crying on me.”

You accept only to give him a taste of his own medicine as you lock fingers and drag him down. He shouldn’t fall, but he does so anyway, collapsing beside you in a bundle of ridiculously long limbs he either sorts behind his head or splays on the grass surrounding him.

“Can’t believe you actually got me.” Satoru says in a pouty voice that goes against the complacent smile sitting on his lips. Idiot. “Woah, the view is much prettier from down here!” He marvels at the drifting clouds, pointing at one that resembles a duck. “Is this what it feels like to be you?”

You could do without his unnecessary comments spoiling the mood, but you’re willing to overlook them for the sake of your trip. With how hectic these past three weeks were—orchestrated curse attacks ping-ponging both him and his students across Tokyo—you doubted you’d have a moment to yourselves for the remainder of the year.

But keeping him on his toes is too much fun to pass up.

“You’d be more likeable if you weren’t such a showoff, Satoru.” You scoff, no malice whatsoever.

“Oh, really? ‘Cause I thought you liked me sooo much when you were going all oh, Satoru! Love it so much, Satoru! You’re the best, Satoru! Deeper, Satoru! Y-yes, just like that, ‘Toru last night.”

“Shut up!”

You plug his mouth with both hands, though that doesn’t discourage him from blabbing his version of last night’s events, perfectly replicating the breathy tone of your voice and the soft little moans you let out in between his frantic thrusts.

Your palms relocate to cover your ears, the bright color of your cheeks soon becoming a focal point for his mockery. Satoru plucks a crimson cosmos flower and holds it to your face, twirling it around until you rip it from his grasp. Regret washes over you as soon as you unfold your fingers and see the now-crumpled petals, a little piece of the universe laying lifeless in your palm.

“I’m surprised you can still see my face behind that thing.” You point at the dark fabric that conceals his eyes. “How many fingers am I holding up?” You wave your hand in his face, constantly alternating between the number of fingers you flex.

Satoru catches your wrist and decisively intertwines your fingers. “I see enough to know you look the cutest when you’re annoyed.”

“I’m not annoyed.” You declare.

“Are you sure?” His voice is deliberately sultry as he inches closer.

Flakes of color adorn his icy strands like confetti, a stark contrast to the murky blue of his two-piece uniform. You can feel his eyes—those lovely crystal orbs of his—burning holes through the blindfold to meet yours, and in this instant, when his minty breath ghosts over your lips and promises a kiss, you’re absolutely enamored by him.

That is, until he begins poking into your cheeks like a woodpecker, and your desire to strangle the life out of him overtakes the urge to give in.

“Okay! You did it! I’m—”

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips crash into yours, a stolen peck that lasts no longer than the fluttering of a butterfly’s wings, a soft fumble that leaves you craving for more. “Definitely annoyed.” Satoru flashes a boyish smile as he ruffles your hair and pulls you to your feet with him, his hand carrying you through a path of marigolds.

“Can you… just… slow… down?” You pant out, struggling to follow after his long strides.

But he doesn’t falter.

“Better get moving before you evolve into a Slowbro.” He sing-songs.

“Knock it off! I’m at least Jigglypuff tier.”

“Hmm,” he considers out loud. “I wouldn’t go as far as to call you useless, but—”

“Satoru!” You protest. “And I thought you liked Digimon.”

“Doesn’t hurt to know about the cheaper rip-off.”

“Pretty sure that’d be Digimon.”

“And I’m pretty sure even a regular Greymon beats your mascot into a pulp.” He beams.

Sigh.

You roll your eyes, letting him argue with himself about Digimon’s supremacy, until you reach a pool of flowers—myriad befallen fragments of the sky reflecting the vibrant blue of his eyes. You break free from his grasp and kneel among the blossoms, your fingertips skimming across the pointed petals with great care.

“Oh my God, Satoru! You know what this is?”

“Flowers…?” He changes his answer to pretty flowers upon your glaring.

“It’s forget-me-nots!”

The name doesn’t seem to ring a bell. He looks at you with the stupefied expression of a cattle who only knows how to moo and eat grass, invisible question marks spawning around his head.

“Their blooming period ends in May,” you explain. “Can’t believe we’d find some in October, and these—” You chop one of the stems and extend it to him. “These are so beautiful.”

Satoru glances between the flowers and your impressionable eyes, in which tiny stars seem to twinkle, his tone serious as he points out, “You must really love me.”

Your mouth hangs while you mull over your own words. Nope. Nothing you said remotely hints at the conclusion he alone reached.

“About time you showed me some respect.” Satoru huffs. “Don’t know about the royalty part, but—ah, it really can’t be helped. I’ll accept them if you insist.”

“Hold on a second.” His fingers close around a fistful of nothing as you retract your hand. “What respect, what royalty are you talking about?”

“Hm? You really don’t know?” You shake your head, and he brings out his phone, trading it for the flowers. “Says it all riiiight here.” He taps at the wall of text that lights up his screen.

Forget-me-not, also known as Myosotis flower, represents true love and respect and is an indisputable symbol of royalty. To King Henry IV—

“Tsk, these don’t even smell.” Satoru exclaims once he presses them to his nose.

“Not all flowers smell.” You turn off the screen and hand his phone back to him. “Your ability to google stuff and sell it as common trivia never ceases to amaze me.”

He lowers the stem to his lap and looks at you. Or so you think. You really can’t tell when he’s wearing that thing. “And? What do you make of it?”

“You just want to hear me say it, don’t you?” Your hands slide across his shoulders, fingers knitting behind his neck. “I love you, you silly, goofy, pervert specimen of a man.” You smile softly. “And I do respect you—sometimes—but best case scenario, you become prime minister. Better get that royalty idea out of your brain.”

“Not even if a mysterious big-scale accident takes all royalty on this planet out?” Satoru quips.

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me already.”

The sharp edges of his grin dissolve as he tilts his head enough for your lips to meet, tentative flicks of his tongue granting him access to your mouth. You feel the hard press of his chest once his arm wraps around your waist, nullifying the barriers that stand between you and the resounding beating of his heart.

There’s no innate technique in the way he touches; no immense amount of cursed energy in the way he kisses. None of the things that make him Gojo Satoru, the sorcerer who is hailed by all—and even himself—as the strongest are there. Only the raw vulnerability of a boy who’s used to carrying the order of the world on his shoulders and on a whim lets it crush him, because when he holds you, none of it seems to matter; because when he’s with you, he’s free to be Gojo Satoru and no more than that.

You watch through heavy eyelashes as he breaks a small stalk and brings it to your hair, securely tucking the flowers behind your ear. Warmth spreads from his slender fingers to your already feverish complexion. His palm cups your cheek, thumb swiping along your jawline with a soft expression perched on his lips, and you find yourself falling in love with him all over again.

“You deserve some love too, my…” Satoru ponders for a second, eventually snapping his fingers, “little MegaDarknessBagramon.”

A chuckle gets caught in your nostrils. “Your what now?”

“MegaDarknessBagramon.” He repeats without stuttering. “Way better than your fairy balloon cat.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling you made this one up?”

“Did not! MegaDarknessBagramon is—hmph.”

You cut him off with a fond kiss on his agape lips. That’s the only way to truly shut him up. At least in public.

“We should get going. I wanna go sightseeing before nightfall.”

You wander through the city for hours upon hours, losing yourselves among the countless maple-strewn paths and quaint religious sites of the countryside. Ikoma is a quiet place. No matter how many pebbles you lift or castle ruins you peek under, you won’t find a speck of evil lurking beneath. It’s as if the land is at peace with itself, and the people who tend to it do so without any curse tainting their souls. For once, Satoru’s presence feels redundant.

His hand stays on you the entire time you stroll through the temples and marketplaces, be it as fingers that childishly swing your palm up and down—left and right—or as an arm draped over both your shoulders, stirring you in a different direction whenever his phone rings. And it does ring. A lot. So much that you actively consider flinging it at the bottom of the Sunoura River.

The conversations are rather one-sided. Satoru mhms and uh-uhs his way out of everything the voices on the other line suggest, his expression contorting all the while he mocks Nanami’s grave tone, Yaga’s dismay, and Ijichi’s apprehension. He tries his best to keep you involved—putting Megumi on speaker while the boy informs him of how Nobara gave Yuji a concussion when she mistook him for a pickpocket—and presses playful kisses on your cheek when you unwittingly pout at his neglect.

This is the one drawback of dating such a sought-after man. You have to share him with the rest of the world, and even though you know exactly how many livelihoods depend on him, you selfishly want your boyfriend to yourself.

After his sixth answered call, something inside you snaps. You shake his hand off—he barely pays mind—and fish your phone out of your jacket, dialing the first number in your contact list. My Noodle Man. With a heart emoticon, he, himself, input. Still better than the long array of toothachingly sweet nicknames he’s come up with for you over the years.

Drawing the device away from his ear, Satoru glances at the incoming caller ID and shoots you what ought to be a perplexed look.

“Pick it up!” You mouth the words without voicing them.

The world comes to a standstill while you (presumably) stare into each other’s eyes. Star-shaped leaves rain down from the trees, a minor contribution to the red and gold garb that dresses the once pebbled pathway. It’s all too scenic—if one ignores the busy tone from his phone’s speaker, which echoes wide across the hollow forest, gracelessly interrupting Utahime’s incoherent squeaks.

Are you even listening? Gojo?

“Mhm!” He breaks into an awkward chuckle. “Sounds good to me.”

What? What are you on about, you white-haired swine?

“Hey, how ‘bout you hold onto that, and we talk about it when I return?”

You seriously doubt he knows what that and it are.

Satoru doesn’t leave Utahime the chance to reply, rushing through his words at the speed of light. “Okay, great! Gotta go now. Laterrr, bye, ciao, adieu!”

Don’t you dare hang—

“Too late for that.” He comments, an afterthought that doesn’t reach its target audience before fading into his next received call.

“Baby! How are you?” The grin on his lips is so blinding, you swear it accompanies a halo.

You draw a deep breath, fingernails digging sharply at the tender flesh on the inside of your palm. “Satoru.”

“What is it, baby?” He dares ask as if you haven’t been shooting daggers at him the entire time, arms folded over your chest and eyebrow trembling above your narrowed eye.

“Satoru, the fact that I can only speak to you through the phone is insane!” Your voice climbs up a whole octave over the final word, annoyance interlaced within your tone.

“Huh?” He smiles sheepishly, head drooping to his shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, I’m standing right in front of you, begging you for an ounce of attention, and you haven’t put the phone down for ten goddamn seconds since we left the shrine, which, by the way, happened two hours ago!”

His smile dwindles, and you worry you might’ve been too harsh. It’s not like he has a choice. Regular people get to dictate their own fate, filling up their plates with however many or few obligations and freedoms they can stomach. Not Satoru. His share of responsibility was assigned to him at birth, and as aloof as he can be, he’s not the type to let all hell break loose just yet.

“Hey, um—look. If you were busy, we could’ve just taken a rain check and stayed in town. You know I wouldn’t mind holing up at my place, ordering some Chinese, and frying our retinas with another movie marathon. No need to string each other along for—what are you doing?”

Without evidence of anyone or anything approaching, Satoru twists his neck in every direction possible, searching far and wide among the tree foliage and the water streaming on the sides of the walkway, going as far as to check the gap between his own legs. Instinctively, you repeat his routine, glancing over your shoulder when you realize he’s got his eyes on you—not on you, but through you.

“Are you sure you are here? Can’t see you.” Satoru brings the phone to his lips, executing an amateur’s set of jumping jacks while waving his hands around and shouting your name at the top of his lungs, doing his absolute best to appear clueless when he passes you by and uses your head like an armrest. “Don’t tell me you got out-heighted by the trees.”

Are you sure you want to permanently delete the contact My Noodle Man <;3?

Cancel

“I’m leaving.”

You manage exactly two steps before you are halted by two arms whose length smothers you—a proper vice that closes around your shoulders and immobilizes you against what feels like a colossal tree trunk but is your (occasionally) loving boyfriend’s chest.

“Let go, Satoru!” You try to shake him off, but your conviction is about as strong as the frail set of bones he aspires to crush.

“C’mon, you just got here!” Satoru begs, his mouth so close to your ear that you feel his voice shooting straight into your heart, goosebumps erupting down your spine. “Don’t leave, mm? Mm? Pleaaase?”

You groan, dragging your feet forward, but it’s impossible to progress when a well-over-six-foot boulder weighs you down. He’s viciously clinging onto you, nuzzling to your cheeks one at a time, and humming at every kiss he prints on your grimace. His frosty spikes tickle, softer than silk and fluffier than the clouds above.

Couldn’t he have been like this five minutes ago?

“Doesn’t matter if I’m here or not.” Bitterness pools in your mouth from where your teeth bite into your gums. Your voice faint. “You’ll be on your stupid phone, anyway.”

“Is that why you’re acting all upset? You want my attention?” The lack of answer prompts him to continue, a low chuckle setting the mood for what comes next.

“If you want my attention, then… all you have to do is ask for it.”

It’s at this point that you realize more than your upper bodies are touching, his knees slightly bent for his hips to press against your ass—and with them, you feel something else pressing too. Something that oughtn’t be there when all you’ve been doing is bickering and fooling around with each other.

You gulp hard, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. His head rests fully upon the elbow on your shoulder, covered eyes definitely taking in the blush that’s become somewhat of a second nature since you got together. He’s effortlessly seductive, and you’re thankful for both his typically childish demeanor and the blindfold around his forehead, or else you’d be in big trouble denying him.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe what?” Satoru coos in a condescending tone.

You try to look away, but he won’t let you, jaw tilting atop his other arm. There’s no hiding from him, and the stupidly smug smile that begs you to erase it.

“…yes.”

“Yes what? Cheating won’t do. You need to say it.”

“That’s rich coming from the guy who won by teleporting to the finish line,” you mumble.

He doesn’t yield, and you know you’re going to be stuck there for a long time unless you stroke his ego. “Fine. Please gimme your undivided attention, oh grand sorcerer, Gojo Satoru.”

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He croons contentedly. “Now, how much do you want it?”

“I changed my mind. I want a divorce.”

“We need to first be married in order to divorce.” He points out, rubbing salt in your wound like your next reply won’t be “You’re the one who refuses to settle down,” but it’s not. Just this once, you bite back your tongue.

Your restraints loosen as Satoru shakes his phone into your face, demonstrating how the device turns off with a click of his thumb. An airy laughter rings in your ears, and just like that, he reverts to the kind of man who giggles at knock-knock jokes and thinks it’s peak comedy when he mixes gummy worms in your cereal.

“No more calls!” He declares. “For a limited time only, strongest sorcerer Gojo Satoru is at your service.”

You snort, fighting back a smile that ends up crinkling around your eyes. “You make it sound like you’re a genie.”

“Hmm, you could always try rubbing me and see what happens. Might grant you a wish or two.”

You laugh at his attempt to flirt, trying and mostly failing to distract yourself from what was previously pushing against your body. It should embarrass you that two of your two wishes are sexual in nature, but that’s entirely on him, his innuendos, and the raw lust you’ve missed seeing transform his eyes from the sparkling color of the sea to one found a thousand meters under the surface.

Maybe three.

“Where’s the catch?”

“What catch?” He chirps.

“I know you, ‘Toru. With you, there’s always a catch.”

One moment you feel his breath on your skin, and the other you see him standing before you, his arms flexing behind his torso while he tips forward—a toothy grin stretching on his lips.

“Well, a fee is always due where there are services involved.” He takes a page from Mei’s book.

“The Gojo family vault running out of cash, so you lookin’ to extort your girlfriend?” You quip. “Go on. Name your price.”

“Oh, y’know.” His shoe traces a circle on the ground. “Just you saying what an amazing, handsome, charming, wonderful, funny, kind, and handsome boyfriend you have for the world to hear.”

You browse the acres of trees surrounding you; there is not a soul to be seen or heard within a close radius. What world?

“You said handsome twice.”

“Intentionally.” He deadpans.

You return his playfulness by saying he forgot to add infuriating to the list, even though you’ve already decided to humor him. Cute is more like it.

“My boyfriend is the most—”

“Does your boyfriend have no name? Take it from the top.”

You sigh, “My boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, is the most amazing, handsome, wonderful—”

“Ah-ah-ah!” Satoru intervenes, raising his forefinger in objection. “Forgot charming!”

Your teeth clatter, gritting a growl.

“Only one life left. Better get it right this time or,” he draws an imaginary line across his neck, faking a choking sound as he’s supposedly decapitated.

With both hands around your mouth, you shape a cone and shout so loudly that countless birds betray their hiding spots between the tree branches as they pour out into the sky. “My boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, is the most amazing, handsome, charming, wonderful, funny, kind, and handsome again, boyfriend in existence who totally didn’t put me up to this!” In a quiet voice, “Happy now?”

“Full marks!” He gleefully shoves a thumbs up in your face. “Now I’m all yours and will be for the rest of the night. Feel free to make the best of me while you can.”

“Then, can I get my first wish granted now, Mr. Genie?”

“What is it?”

He stands still as you bring your hands to his face and cup his cheeks, fingers teasing the seams of his blindfold. “Lemme see your eyes.”

“Hmm? You wanna see them? Why—you missed them?”

A nod. “Don’t put me through that same speech again. They are pretty, and yes, I miss them. We haven’t been seeing each other as often, so. C’mon. Lemme see them.”

You try to lower the fabric, but the harder you pull, the more it seems to resist. “Satoru…?”

“Mm?” He licks his lips. “What is it, sugarplum?”

Your eyes roll so far back into your skull that you’re afraid they’ll slip down your esophagus. “I said, I wanna see your eyes. May I?”

He cocks his head in consideration, entertaining an affectionate smile before he denies you with a cheeky little nope!

“Why not?”

This is the first time he denies you.

“For a multitude of reasons.” He states wryly. Uncharacteristically for him.

You wait for an explanation—a slight opening between his lips. His tongue lays flat against his teeth, darting upward as if he’ll finally say something, but he doesn’t. This happens about four times before he sternly announces, “The sun.”

“The sun…?” You glance at the sky, a veil of darkness slowly descending upon the peachy gradients of the melting clouds. “You mean the one that just set?”

“I wasn’t done talking. My other reason is…” He motions for you to get closer. You lean in as instructed, patiently hanging on his lips as if he is about to open the envelope and reveal the name of a talent show winner, yet his answer isn’t any more satisfying than the previous one is. “The people.”

“Satoru, we haven’t seen a live human in over an hour. What are you talking about? And since when were others an issue?”

“You don’t know what it feels like to be me!” Satoru exclaims in an exaggerated tone as he shakes your hands off and turns in the opposite direction. “Having everyone stare at you wherever you go, people asking, Sensei, please! We need to see your wonderful eyes! and getting called Six Eyes like you’re a piece of meat. Should’ve known you wouldn’t be any better than them, Y/N.”

You blink a number of times, “stunned” being too little of a word to describe your surprise at his sudden burst. He always had a knack for the dramatic, but with the way the back of his palm is pressed against his forehead, he’s closer to an Academy Award than ever.

“Satoru.” Your hand moves to his shoulder without ever closing the distance. Damn infinity. “What is up with you today?” You ask half-jokingly, half-concerned. “Acting insecure; you are the one who doesn’t miss the chance to show your eyes off to everyone, and when I ask you to show them, you pull this—why?”

“It’s because I only have eyes for you.” He smirks full of confidence, roughing up your hair and then bringing his thumb below your chin, holding it up for a kiss. You don’t even stop him. Hell, you don’t even close your eyes. You are too baffled to.

You regain agency over your words only after he starts parading away from you, his feet spending more time in the air than they do on land. “Hey, wait! What was that? What does you having eyes only for me have to do with anything?”

His chuckle precedes his answer. “You’ll see when we reach the inn. Last down the foothills is a double loser!”

“Ahhh, that was soooo good! I feel—ugh, reborn!”

Satoru’s joints click as he stretches both arms behind his back and over his head, the striped sleeves of his gray-colored yukata rolling down his elbows. He doesn’t mind that he’s blocking the doorway or that the long face you’ve been sporting since you parted at the lobby threatens to hit the floor at his theatrics.

Your onsen experiences differed by miles. While he was off soaking and splashing by himself at the vacant men’s baths, you were forced to endure 45 excruciating minutes in the company of a group of bachelorettes who wouldn’t shut up about the “dreamy masked man” who booked the single most expensive suite in the compound, rewriting his life story with lewd fantasies that—for as long as you could help it—would remain as such. Unrealized.

“The temperature was just perfect, the right amount of hot without scorching, and the minerals already circulate through my bloodstr—ouch!”

You shove past him and his impromptu review of the hot springs, temporarily giving up on the blockbuster that your mind crafts—Blood Bath: Revenge of the Hot Spring Killer 2—in favor of a spot where you can drop off your toiletries.

The room, or rather, the rooms, are vast in space and rich in furnishing. Opaque sliding doors separate the main area from the wardrobe and the bathroom, drawn to provide a direct view of the ryokan’s rock garden. Tatami mat flooring is indiscriminately strewn, replaced by granite tiles around the indoor hot tub. Raised alcoves host colorful ikebana vases; a couple of ukiyo-e scrolls depicting Mount Yoshino hang from opposing sides on the walls. Lastly, futons are neatly spread in the far back, with a short-legged table spanning at the center of the sitting space.

Bingo.

You settle beside it, laying your belongings on the floor while scrutinizing the couple’s gift box on top, regional specialties packed beside a ceremonial tea set that bears the inn’s logo. You flip the box on its back and attempt to decipher the cursive letters just as Satoru steals it from your hands, wasting no time ripping through the luxurious wrapping paper and tossing a block of brown-colored kuzumochi in his mouth.

“Gotta mmph hring Hahami ‘n’ Meghumi ‘ere.” He refuses to keep his remarks (or food) in his mouth, flour dusting the corners of his lips. “That oughta brighten ‘em up.” He says once he swallows, bringing his cup of welcoming tea to his teeth and cringing away at the sheer bitterness of the matcha. “Bleugh, this tastes like poison!”

You break into a quiet chuckle as you scrub his chin, sleeve curled over your fist, and thumb running stray along his frown. Cute. No, beyond cute. Adorable.

“Don’t blame the tea when your blood type is caster sugar, Satoru.”

“But that’s the secret to my sweetness.” He quips, returning to his previous floured-lip state as he flings a second kuzumochi into his mouth, supposedly to wash the bitterness away. “Think they sell more of these in the gift shop?”

You roll your eyes, humoring him with a teasing sure.

Making it back to your spot, you down your share of matcha in one go, savoring the delightful tartness the beverage leaves on your tongue. “‘Tis not even that bad.” You comment, pouring yourself a refill.

A certain form of silence prevails over the space, during which words aren’t spoken but expressed through various hums of content, with Satoru loudly nibbling on his loot and you quietly sipping on your tea. Moonlight filters the atmosphere through the semi-transparent shoji doors, casting playful shadows that dance along the subtle movements of his fingers.

He’s the puppeteer, and you his devoted audience, easily convinced that there’s genuine mastery in the way he handles his instruments and earnestly keen on trying them out before their numbers are further decimated. A pinch is at the ready, your thumb and forefinger making strategic advances towards the box of delicacies when a counter-offering presents itself to your lips.

“Say ahhhh!” Satoru waves the kuzumochi in your face, your teeth losing to the speed of his fingers as he retracts his hand at the last minute. “C’mon, c’mon!” He giggles, again dangling the bait. “Open wider. Ahhh! Ahhh!”

Your nose scrunches up. You don’t trust his intentions, and you have every right not to, considering he makes you chase after the confectionery with an open mouth, utilizing his infinity to keep you at bay whenever you get remotely close to succeeding.

“Satoru!” You yelp unamused.

“Sorry, sorry!” His apology sounds the opposite of truthful. “Promise, that was the last time. One big ahhh f’me! Ahhh—c’mon, it’s really good! You won’t regret it.”

And it’s no surprise you come to immediately regret it, your tongue hanging loose from your mouth, barely connecting with the dessert before your aghast eyes witness it being devoured by him, so quickly that you lose the opportunity to protest.

There’s no one to blame but yourself, though that doesn’t stop you from pouncing and tackling him to the floor. Two fists grab at the lapels of his yukata, fingers curling around the fabric, while you violently shake him like an unresponsive vending machine, urging him to spit out your eaten cash.

Satoru snorts, and he chuckles, and he laughs, a boisterous symphony of sounds pitted against one another as he, himself, refuses to fight back, merely showcasing the empty contents of his mouth and baring his teeth into a haughty grin that agitates you even more.

“You need to step up your game, munchkin. Or else you’ll never get your prize.”

“And you need to stop tricking me every chance you get!” You hiss, a sigh casting your head backward as you swipe the hair from your forehead. “If you played a fair game, then maybe—just maybe—I would actually win!”

“Aww, baby.” A lofty purr makes you awfully aware of the fact that you’re still straddling him, knees planted on both sides of his hips and thighs squeezing tightly around his crotch. “That’s so cute! Thinking you could ever stand a chance against me.”

“I could!”

“Mm, I don’t think so.” Satoru’s palms glide along your curves, taking full advantage of the position to rub circles that spread over your ass and close around your thighs; slender fingers tantalizing as they ghost over your exposed skin. “I’m quite strong, in case you haven’t noticed.”

He makes you a living example of his words, giddily watching your self-control crumble when he forces you down against his body. A complacent smirk rises on his lips, countering the soft gasp that evades yours.

“See?” He chuckles. “Unmatched.”

“You’re quite annoying too.” You huff, biting your lips into a straight line while you deviate from staring at his face—a grave mistake.

All the wrestling has caused the lapels of his yukata to recede, the fabric so loose it barely counts as hiding a thing. Delicate collarbones pave the path toward his toned chest, rosy claw marks littering his creamy complexion (and it swells you with pride to know you’re the only one to have ever blemished his spotless body) down to the few unruly frosty hairs that span over his sculpted abdomen, and lead lower—much lower than your eyes can currently follow.

Goddamn it, Satoru.

“Is that why you’re grinding against me? Because I’m annoying you?”

His accusation makes your heart sink inside your chest as you are found guilty of a crime you unwittingly committed. Your hips were swaying back and forth against his hardened cock, guided by a firm grasp that failed to emulate the typically lazy manner with which he’d keep you anchored whenever you rode him.

(Aww, bunny. Keep bouncing like that, and you’ll hit your head. Me? Help? Don’t be silly. How you gonna grow stronger if I put in all the work, mm? Better be satisfied with what you have throbbing in ya already. Now, where were we? Right—Ijichi and his…)

Except you were in the middle of a fight, and you’re supposed to be holding a grudge that seems to matter less by the minute.

“Hey, baby?” His thumb harbors softness when he cups your cheek, candied voice flowing from pretty, pink lips that glisten under the pale moonlight. “Think you can be annoyed with your clothes off?”

You almost succumb to his will, the lines between vexation and lust becoming increasingly blurred as you try to get your point across a final time.

“Y’know, I too like sweets!” Your declaration practically melts into his touch. “Just because I let you do the honors doesn’t mean I don’t want to try some. It means I’m a better girlfriend than you.”

“No arguing here.” Satoru beams. “Don’t think I could be a better girlfriend if I tried.”

“Satoru!” You exclaim for the millionth time that day.

“Too early to be screaming my name.”

“I’m serious!”

“And I’m not?” He gasps, hand moving to his chest as if your words actually damaged his impenetrable ego. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. My girlie is such a meanie.”

Your eyes perform a semi-circle, knowing better than to venture beyond his neck. His face is cute, in that boyish way everyone swoons over, but his body is another story. The kind you read with the blinds lowered and the lights dim, colored cheeks, and giddy chuckles muffled by your bedding.

Sigh.

“How can I take you seriously when you say such things?”

“Never said you have to do it seriously. Just takin’ me is good enough.”

“Stop that!”

Swatting his hand from your face, you feel it join its twin behind your ass. You don’t want him to catch on to how affected you are simply by mounting him, but as your hips are forcibly rocked into his crotch, the wet patch your slick paints on his yukata reveals all that your tongue struggled to keep hidden.

“Jerk!”

Satoru grins, holding you tight against his lap as he sits the both of you up. Your noses are suddenly found brushing, and his lips expel a heavy breath your lips eagerly inhale, the proximity dizzying. “Maybe if I gave my girl some sugar, she’d turn sweeter.”

“Ugh, this is exactly what I meant!” You growl in frustration. “Satoru, I swear, if you use one more lame line on me, I’ll—”

Whatever was supposed to come next is drowned out by his tongue as it presses against your mouth, enticing your lips into an all-consuming kiss that threatens to eat you alive. Warm palms hook below your legs, turning scorching as they roll your yukata above your thighs and help secure your knees around his torso, caressing every inch of supple flesh they unveil.

You’re overcome by need in an instant, and judging from how ardently your boyfriend’s cupping your cheeks, as if he’s either trying to breathe life into you or suck it out of your lungs, it’s safe to say it goes both ways.

His cock rubs against your clit through his clothes. He’s so hard, and you are so wet that one thrust would be enough to sheathe him fully into your cunt and meld you into one. But that won’t do. If there’s one thing Satoru doesn’t rush, that’s the way he fucks. He wants to savor everything—every kiss, every touch, every whimper, every moan, every last drop of your essence that dribbles onto his fingers and drenches his tongue like the finest, most delectable nectar meant solely for him—before indulging the twitching sensation in his balls.

There’s no reason for today to be any different.

A string of saliva is cut in the middle as Satoru pulls away, your half drooling down your jaw and his collected by his tongue.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, baby! You were saying?” He coos in an awfully smug tone that barely registers over your incessant panting.

“Hm? Nothing? Thought so.” He deduces after turning his ear to your mouth, and for a second, you’re tempted to bite his earlobe right off.

But somehow you don’t, and in his book, that counts as obedience, which in turn qualifies for a reward.

He plants a kiss on your nose, tender enough to distract you from the no-good smirk plastered on his lips. “How about I do that other thing you asked for?”

Your mind traverses a foggy terrain. You’ve asked him for a lot of things in the recent past. Not overloading Aiko’s bowl with cat food the minute he sees it empty. Not surprise-hugging you when you’re walking alone at night and are unaware of his presence. Not rapping your morning routine to the tune of the hemorrhoid cream commercial. Not calling you munchkin or dwarf when it’s him who’s the long-lost descendant of the legendary tree people.

The list goes on and on with plenty of whimsical examples, and you realize, there are more things you’ve explicitly asked him not to do than do, with your one recurrent request being that he get you a ring made from neither fried dough nor grass blades.

“Close your eyes.” You do as you’re told, thinking you’re oh-so-clever when you try to peer at him through downcast eyelashes, only to be shot down by his technique. “Uh-uh! No peeking!” The last thing your eyes see before they’re covered by his left palm are two fingers that hook under his blindfold and tug it upward.

“Why the secrecy?” You ask impatiently. “Afraid I’ll be blinded by your beauty? Must I remind you I’ve seen you sleeping with your mouth open? The magic is gone.”

“Is it?” His chuckle louder than the elusive sound of his blindfold coming undone. “And here my eyes were thinking you’ve turned even more beautiful than the last time they saw you. How unfortunate.”

There’s a certain humility that comes with someone as ethereal as Gojo Satoru calling you beautiful to your face, but right now, your mind remains fixated on one word and one word only. Eyes. My eyes. His eyes.

“You took it off?” Excitement colors your tone. “Lemme see!”

“Baby, baby, baby.” Satoru playfully chides. “When will you learn to be patient, mm? Don’t you know that good things come to those who wait?”

Seven years is an awful long time to be waiting around.

Eventually, you feel his hand be drawn away, but before light can enter your eyelids, darkness engulfs them again. Cold satin now covers your brow, the kind of silky material you’ve previously only been able to experience via your fingertips as they yanked and hurled it across your bedroom walls.

“Tada!” The unmistakable sound of palms clasping. “You can open them now.”

“Satoru, what—what is this?” You mutter, tight-lipped, as if your ability to speak was also impaired. “I asked to see your eyes, not play suikawari.”

“Aw, shoot. Should I go ask for a watermelon?”

You sigh, fingers withdrawing into fists atop your thighs. You wonder how many years of jail time killing your boyfriend warrants, but then again, you doubt you’d possibly achieve what countless others have failed at.

“You wanted a rematch, didn’t you?” His hands move against your own, soft thumbs rolling reassuring circles around your wrists. He brings them to his lips, printing a kiss on each knuckle set. “Better strike while the iron’s hot. Besides, this game’s so easy, even you got a chance at winning,” he scoffs a laugh at how quick you’re to escape, pulling your hands back as if you were struck by an electric current. “All you hafta do is sit back and answer a few questions. Pretty easy, right?”

His voice rings close to your ear. You realize he’s in fact closer when he takes his affections to your cheeks, shamelessly bribing you with the sweetest kisses he can muster.

It’s working.

“I didn’t agree to this.” You state as his jaw perches on your shoulder, strong biceps caging your body while he reaches around your waist to undo the bow of your yukata.

“Really?” His breath travels south, hot steam depriving you of the opportunity to feel any real cold as you’re slowly stripped of your garments—and yet you still shudder when his lips close below your throat and suck onto your sweet spot. “‘Cause you seemed pretty agreeable when you were all ready to jump my bones a minute ago.”

“Th-that’s because—”

The fabric slides down your shoulders like butter, melting into the soft curves and pebbled peaks of your tits before it pools around your hips. His thighs tense up, blood rushing straight to his swollen cock head while he cradles you, eating you up with the eyes you so fondly reminisce.

“Aw, pumpkin! Won’t you look at that!” Your cheek is captured between his fingers, lightly pinched. “You’re blushing through the blindfold.”

You feel so vulnerable, and you aren’t sure whether that’s because you’re straddling your fully clothed boyfriend while being fully naked yourself or because everything around you is amplified, from the way his finger pads dance around your nipples, to the fruity shampoo remnants lingering in his tousled hair.

“‘Toru, I—”

You cut yourself off. You don’t want to be the kind of woman who has to beg her own boyfriend for dick.

“Will you still be blushing as I fuck your cute face?”

But you’re about to be.

“Hey, I was just joking!” Your hands are seized without accomplishing their goal of removing the blindfold. “Don’t want you losing before the game begins, do we?”

“‘Toru, just—I don’t care about any stupid games, okay?” You whine, voice purposely pathetic in case he feels generous enough to cave in. “I just want you. I need you. Please?”

“And you will have me, baby.” Satoru soothes, shifting both your hands to a single grip while he digs into the pile of clothes at your side. “A promise is a promise. I’ll pamper my precious girl to her heart’s content if that’s what she wants.” A string too thin to be a rope wraps around your wrists, piecing them together. “Love her all night long; teach her all the things she misses when her eyes are wide open. My sweet honeypie, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d also like it if you quit it with all those corny nicknames.” You answer, having absolutely no idea as to how the floor is replaced with the futon when you haven’t budged an inch. At least you think you haven’t.

“You love them.” The grin strong in his voice as he lays you down and climbs on top of you, pinning your bound wrists above your head. “Like you love me, my little sugarboo.”

“I’m rolling my eyes.”

“Wow, this early? Have barely touched you.”

“I’m rolling my eyes again!” You repeat at a higher volume.

“Of course you are. This isn’t too tight, is it?” A finger curls between your binds. You shake your head, and he pecks it, gently caressing your hair while situating his knee between your thighs, bouncing it against your pussy. “You’ll see, you’re gonna love every minute of this,” Satoru continues, his hand playful as his fingers toy with yours.

You have little to no agency over your body when Satoru lifts your leg and folds it onto your stomach, his lips held against yours and his tongue slotted in between. He kisses you slowly, like he has all the time to unravel you, and in a way, he does. He could stretch this moment to infinity, savoring your lips until they’re all swollen and coated with spit, his name replacing every word in your vocabulary while he wanders lower, dragging his warm mouth against your skin and smearing wet kisses down your tits.

“The mochi weren’t half as sweet as you,” he murmurs, soft lips clamping over your nipple, the suspicion of sharp teeth grazing the sensitive bud. “I’ll buy you some in the morning.”

“Y-you don’t need to,” you huff, your chest heaving with one heavy breath after another as he takes hold of your other nipple, alternating between pinching and rolling it around with his thumb, repeating the same ritual of licking and sucking as the nipple in his mouth changes.

“Mm, but I want to.” He insists. “I want to spoil my baby and give her everything she wants. I’d give her the world if I could.”

And yet, you won’t marry her.

His smile ghosts over your flesh, gradually fading as he approaches your navel. “But first, I need to fuck her pretty pussy, mm? That’s what my princess wants, doesn’t she?”

Reluctantly, you nod, a lump forming in your throat when his fingers find purchase beneath your thighs and spread them apart. His biceps curl around your calves as he mounts your knees on his shoulders, peppering your inner thighs with more featherlight kisses that continuously inch closer to your entrance.

He is so attentive when he wants to be, but in his core, Satoru is a selfish lover. He gives, and he gives, and he gives more than you can take, his satisfaction lying in your cute little moans and the tiny arch of your back whenever he pushes you to your limits.

“Thank you for the food!” He croons, and you swear to hate yourself for almost chuckling at his distasteful joke.

He was always like that, to the point where suggesting he bewitched you into falling for him isn’t an exaggeration so much as an undeniable reality. Him, who with his cheeky smiles, exaggerated gestures, and mirthful snickering, conquered your thoughts and claimed the mushy land of your brain as if it were the moon. Him, whose dimples crease around his lips every time you kiss and whose bright blue irises bloom behind your shut eyelids. Him, who’d remain the most extraordinarily beautiful person, even if your eyes never opened again.

Him, whose plump lips round around your clit as he finally takes it in his mouth, suckling on the small bundle of nerves as if he expects it to dissolve into liquid sugar.

“F-fuck!”

Your hips buck into his face, lifting from the covers while your hands maintain their position. If it weren’t for his stupid infinity, you’d be threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him as far into you as humanely possible, but for now, you can only chant his name, feeling his shoulders tense up while his hungry tongue runs laps between your slick folds.

“I’m so lucky you aren’t bound to a region. I’d have to stockpile on you every single day.” Satoru hums against your clit, the vibrations from his mellifluous tone translating into pleasurable tingles up your spine. “My favorite specialty,” he chuckles, sounding so lovable that you can’t hold it against him.

He doesn’t kid about you being like a dessert to him, his tongue greedily soaking up all the juices that gush from your hole right down his chin. He moans in pure delight, perhaps more than you do, the uninterrupted flow of compliments making you feel at least worthy of a Michelin star. So pretty. So sweet. So perfect. The same combination of words he’s been repeating since you first got together, as if his fascination never truly ran out.

The sounds get more salacious while he fucks his tongue into your entrance, and you throw your head back, feeling so unbelievably light that if it weren’t for his hold on your thighs, you would be floating straight to the ceiling. His thumbs stretch out your lips for him to reach deeper, pointy nose rubbing deliciously against your swollen clit while he persistently works your body to its high, making out with your nether lips like he’s kissing your actual mouth.

“Feels s-so good, ‘Toru,” you whimper, struggling to keep your legs from closing around his head.

“Yeah? Like that?” Satoru chuckles, and it would’ve pushed you over the edge if his tempo wasn’t disrupted. “I like it too. Love eating your little pussy. I can tell she loves me too, doesn’t she?”

You can’t believe that the man who’s making all the stars of the night sky appear in the confinement of your tied eyes is the very same man who’s addressing your pussy as a she.

“Hm? You’re hurting my feelings here.” He sounds pouty, though you can picture the sadistic glint in his eyes as his teeth sink into your clit, softly enough to not induce any pain, but hard enough to bring your hips to a stutter.

“Y-yes, she does—fuck, my pussy loves you, S-satoru!” You cry out.

“Hah, that’s more like it.”

Your voice shatters into a million broken sobs which only motivate Satoru to keep going. He nibbles on the sensitive nub, darted tongue inflicting short and rapid flicks that cut right through the coiling tension in your guts with precision that’s exclusive to him and the countless times he’s had you fall apart with his mouth alone.

Your fingers clench while your toes curl, thighs trembling as succulent juices spurt all over him, and, God—how you wish you could see his pretty face ruined like that.

“Mm, baby, you always cum so much for me.”

Without letting a drop go to waste, Satoru licks a luscious stripe between your slit, rolling your essence in his mouth to relish the taste.

“Y’know, I could just make time freeze and eat you out for hours. Days,” he lays a kiss on top of your mound. “Weeks,” one for every thigh. “Months,” his lips on your clit making you wince from pleasure. “Years.” He snickers, marveling at how easily you respond to his touch. “You’d want that, sweets? All that pleasure, just for you. Think you could take it?”

Not knowing better, you nod, and he laughs. You aren’t familiar enough with Jujutsu to be horrified by the prospect of reliving the same moment over and over again, literally getting fucked dumb in a way his technique has never achieved on another.

“Alright, time to turn off the cheats.” He announces after you manage to regain your breath, and it isn’t until his question that you’re reminded of the whole “game” ordeal.

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

“What?” Your voice scratches its way out of your throat, coarse and laden with desire.

“You asked me the same question earlier, remember?” His fingertips tickle as they drum against your stomach. “At the plateau?”

I’m surprised you can still see my face behind that thing. How many fingers am I holding up?

“The one you didn’t answer?”

“Four, five, two, four, one.” The number of fingers he presses on your skin changes depending on the number he calls. You’d be impressed if you’d actually kept track of the digits you’d shown him, and they weren’t picked at random.

“So, how many?”

You try to pull yourself together, calmly considering your options. He wouldn’t start with five or four. The first three numbers are more likely, and taking a leap of faith—

“One.” You lock in your answer, with an excitable cheer following suit.

“Wow, my girl is so smart!” Satoru praises. “Got it on her first try!”

“Quit treating me like I’m one of your students.”

“Oh, trust me.” He runs his middle finger down your abdomen, emphasizing his point with a tap on your clit. “I’d never treat any of my students the way I treat you. Or anyone else for that matter,” he trails off, gathering some of the slick that’s trickled out of your slit, and brings it into his mouth, finger coated with spit the next time he touches you.

“All of my special treatment is reserved for my special girl.”

His finger prods lazily into your cunt, thick enough for every ridge to be lusciously dragged against your velvety walls, and long enough to delve straight into your pulsing core.

To his disappointment, there isn’t much of a reaction—save for the occasional hitched breath. You can take it. For seven years now, you’ve been trained on his deft fingers and the many tricks they play, but when his thumb begins circling your clit in tandem with his thrusts, your facade cracks.

“Aw, you didn’t think it’d be this easy, did you, bunny?” Satoru coos in fake sympathy, as his thumb zigzags feverishly about your clit, the finger in your cunt curving in a repetitive come-hither motion.

“‘T-toru, please—ngh!” You whine, your lower half squirming on its own accord. “You said you’d let me win!”

“Let you?” A complacent smile takes shape on his face, and although you cannot see it, you can hear it chiming in his tone. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“Y-you evil man!”

He giggles at your supposed insult, one moment asking if that’s the best you can do, and the next cheering you on by saying he’s rooting for you.

Asshole.

Heat runs rampant between the lowest pit in your stomach and the apex of your flushed cheeks, the blindfold soaking sweat off your forehead like a headband. You are close; pressure steadily building only to wither away once Satoru retracts his hand.

Asshole!

“Sorry, pretty. Got a little carried away, but no hard feelings, hm?” Your tormentor asks, rubbing your clit at a pace far too slow to be soothing. “Now, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“T-two.” You answer, your sanity chipping the longer your hole remains puckering around nothing.

“Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner!”

You kiss your teeth as Satoru angles his wrist with your pussy and shoves two of his fingers in, curling them against the spongy spot that swells with each pump, and when that isn’t enough to muffle your cries, you bite down onto your lip, choking on every sob you’ve been withholding. Last thing you want is to give your next-room neighbors another reason to fantasize about your boyfriend.

“It’s fine. You can let it all out.” Satoru reads your mind. “Room’s soundproof, though there isn’t much you can say, right?”

Your walls flutter around his fingers in utter bliss. You hate (love) how his words get to your body before your brain can process them; every remark you’d typically deflect, seeping under your skin and igniting as fire in your loins.

“Don’t worry,” he chuckles, maintaining a steady rhythm even with his thumb swiping at your clit. “I’ll be the one doing all the talking from now on.”

“Sh-shut up!” You manage to say before returning to your three-word prayer of little oh-my-god’s and ah-ah-ah’s.

“But you love my mouth.” Satoru argues back. “And now you love my fingers. How long they feel stretching you out, how deep they can go.”

He’s buried to his knuckles, slowing down for the sake of plunging his digits further into your wet cunt, the lewd squelching bouncing across the walls along with the obscene sounds you let out.

“You’re practically fucking yourself on them.”

Your boyfriend’s words cloud your brain, your body acting purely on instinct as you begin to hump his hand. Satoru doesn’t stand in the way; rather, he assists with a sturdy hold that has your hips slamming against his fingers, repeating the motion until your creamy essence comes pouring down warmly over his palm.

You aren’t sure whether the white speckles in your vision stem from the gates of heaven welcoming you to the other side or the light fixtures on the ceiling, becoming certain only after the outline of a halo brushes against your forehead. It’s hard to call the man slumped above you an angel when his one hand is cupping your cunt, the fingers of the other tasked with undoing the knot around your wrists.

You are free to move—or about as free as one can be when every joint in their body begs to drag them down, your limbs strewn over the sheets like those of a tattered rag doll. The blindfold is still on, albeit slightly lowered over your nose. A little more wriggling and you can take it off, yet that too requires effort you lack.

Satoru says something that fails to register in your trance. He’s mocking you. He’s praising you. He’s mocking you while praising you, and praising you while mocking you, because those two go hand in hand in his brain—a proper carrot and stick. You think you should be thanking him or cursing him, but your words turn out a jumbled mess—nothing worth writing home about.

“Ready for the final round?” His voice finally conquers the ambient—heavy, almost as though his own ministrations have worn him out, and distorted by every prolonged inhale and sharp exhale he takes.

“Do I have a choice?” You provoke.

“Sure you do. Just—hah, not when it comes to this.”

A low fuck evades him, and you are oblivious to the way he’s been fisting his cock this entire time, smearing your slick over his length and squeezing the reddened tip in the ring shaped by his thumb and index, biting onto his tongue whenever your name comes remotely close to spilling from his lips. Only he knows the endurance he’s shown keeping himself from busting in his hand at the sight of your fucked-out form, trembling thighs calling to him in a carnal manner your lips could never muster.

You look ravishing, and ravishing you is all he aches to do.

“How many—” Satoru begins, only to be cut off with a croaked three that jumps an octave the moment his fat tip prods into your folds. “Three?” His fingers burrow into the supple flesh of your thighs as he splays your legs over his bare chest. “Could’ve sworn it was at least eight. Guess I need to make it go a bit deeper, huh?”

His lips lay soft against your ankle, trailing honeyed kisses down the expanse of skin that lose finesse once they near the crevice of your knee. An idea blinks in his brain as he grabs your thigh and presses it down against your stomach, repeating the same pattern of tenderness on the other until you are folded in half.

He stares down at you, and for a moment, that’s all he does. His eyes—the prized six eyes that are the very synonym for quintessence—well with adoration over the point where your bodies connect, the tight fit of your cunt prompting him to lose control and fuck an entire generation of sorcerers into you.

All in good time.

A quiet whisper reminds Satoru of his promise, hips drawing back before they snap right into you, the crude sound of his balls slapping against your ass reverberating across the room. You moan in unison, your fists thudding against the floor as his thrusts send you flying past the covers.

It’s too much. It’s too little. You want less. You want more. Your desires bend and twist around one another like indecisive vines, settling on a direction only after he leans forward and fixes the cushions behind your head.

“Congratulations.” The gentle action of his hand combing through your hair contradicts the cock throbbing inside your pussy. “To think my baby would make me eat my own words—well; I can get behind dating a winner. Especially when they’re as beautiful as you.”

“S-satoru!”

You look away—if resting your flushed cheek on the significantly colder pillow and fixing your gaze at whatever lies beyond the blindfold counts as looking—the sincerity in his words moving you more than it should.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you are embarrassed.” Satoru chuckles, punctuating his own question with a sensual roll of his hips that drags against your clit, coaxing the tiniest of moans to slip from your pursed lips.

“Hmm, is it because I called you beautiful?” He leans onto his elbow, relying on the weight of his chest to keep you pinned down. “Nah, can’t be it. I call you beautiful on a daily basis, don’t I? Then—hmm—is it ‘cause I’m so nice to you? Because I’m the best boyfriend you could ask for?”

“Q-quit it with all that self affirm—oh my god!”

Tears prickle your eyelash line at the familiar way his cock glides between your walls. He’s in so deep, relaxed thrusts pushing against your abdomen from the inside, with your cervix serving as the last line of defense for your merge, gallantly bearing every kiss his tip prints on your core.

“C’mooon, you gotta help me out. I’m all outta guesses here.” Satoru whines in your ear, his voice a pitch too high. “Is it because you can’t see me? Because this feels so good? Or because,” his hand sneaks between your bodies to work languid circles around your clit, “you just love me that much?”

“Aw, so that’s what it was?” He interprets the clenching of your pussy as he wills. For once he isn’t off the mark. “Okay, look at me.”

Even when you weren’t embarrassed before, you are about to be as heat pools in your stomach anew, threatening to make your score three to zero. You feel yourself turning liquid, dissolving between ripples of pleasure, drowning in you and drowning in him, and he’s both the riptide pulling you in as he’s the lifeline washing you ashore, the salty tang of the sea clinging to the fingers fumbling about your chin.

“I said, look at me.” His tone serious this time.

Every sense of yours is held captive as Satoru’s lips finally smash into yours, the taste of your essence refusing to die out no matter how many times your tongues swirl around each other. Your breathy moans are traded for his needy grunts, compiling into a broken record that plays sinfully in your ears, the whiff of sex lingering potent in the thick air between you.

He doesn’t fuck into you so much as he grinds against you, allowing you to grab at his biceps when your legs start to shake, the white clouds in your peripheral dispersing behind the sky blue of his eyes, placid orbs electrified by lust.

“Hi,” Satoru greets with an amiable smile, the blindfold dangling from around his forefinger.

“H-hi,” you return, your palms creeping up his face as if to appraise it, soft thumbs pushing the dampened strands away from his forehead, a thirst within you at last quenched.

“It’s-a me.” He says stupidly, basking in the affectionate way you cradle him.

“If you crack a Mario joke I’ll kick you in the nuts.” You warn.

“Oh no! How dare you genocide my children?” He gasps, and you can’t help but chuckle, eliciting a moan from him as your walls tighten around his cock. “M-minus one Gojo junior.”

Another laugh. Another moan. Another kiss.

“Would you put a baby into me if I didn’t?” You trace against his lips, uncertain of the answer you want to hear.

There’s no reason to be discussing having kids when you haven’t even tied the knot, let alone when more qualified candidates exist to continue his clan’s lineage. Maybe Shoko—she and Satoru have always been close, and a healing technique sounds like a valuable inheritance. Utahime—you aren’t sure what her abilities are, but they too go back. Even Mei, her family have a sizable fortune, and their genes combined would—

Mischief sparks in his eyes, tugging at the corners of his mouth and spreading to your lips as he kisses you—not his close friend, not his self-declared nemesis, and certainly not his senior. Just plain old you.

“If that’s what the future Mrs. Gojo wants, then—”

“What do you—”

Before your questions can manifest, Satoru picks up a tempo that knocks the air out of your lungs and the thoughts out of your mind. Big palms wrap your knees around his torso, sculpted pecs smothering your plushy tits while he vigorously drills his cock into your sopping cunt, having the nerve to laugh at your whimpers in between strangled noises of his own.

“You feel so good f’me, baby. S-so fucking good, aren’t you? My good—nah, my perfect girl. Our kids will be perfect too. G-gonna have lots of ‘em, mm? Gonna-fuck, gimme a whole class to teach, right?” He blabs deliriously, broad shoulders flexing as your nails rake them.

You want that. Everything he’s willing to offer, a future where his last name precedes your first, and chubby babies that bear his disposition, his ideals, and his smiles follow on your trail like little disoriented ducklings; one where he’s your husband, and you’re his wife, and you’re tied to each other for life.

Satoru’s lips drift toward your neck, biting sloppy marks that have you writhing below him. And when his cock hits that one spot inside of you, the one he’s been abusing all night long like a kid with a brand new toy on Christmas Eve, “Oh my God—G-god, p-please j-just like that, shit shit f-fuck!”

“Why bring religion into this?” He mumbles, voice inadvertently sultry and cumbered with every bit of self-restraint he showed before entering this frenzy where his climax is the only thing that matters. “Just—hah, say my name. Let the heavens know who helped you ascend them.”

The next time your eyes meet, he’s grinning, pink lips bitten cherry red, and he’s pretty; so pretty; too pretty.

“C-can’t say th-things like that!” You struggle to maintain control over your bobbing head.

“Why not? Your little heart can’t handle it?”

“Sh-shut up, dumbass!”

His eyebrows unite amid his forehead, even his frown attractive.

“That’s not my name.”

“S-stupid!” You yelp, mainly addressing the myriad stupid butterflies that chose to swarm your stupid stomach at his stupid commentary.

“Mmm, I think you’re the one getting fucked stupid here, sugarplum.”

Satoru zooms on into your lips, playfully swiping his tongue in between. You can’t cum any more; it’s physically impossible. You think. But “impossible” isn’t a word in his vocabulary; every snap of his hips causes you to ride on a rollercoaster with no end-destination, only a consistent state of newer highs.

“S-satoru.” His name rolling off your tongue works like a charm, the rhythm of his thrusts slowing down as he presses your foreheads together.

“Again?” He pleads. Quietly. A pin capable of overshadowing his tone.

“‘Toru.” Two smiles turn into one. “My ‘Toru.”

“More.”

There’s not a single gap between your bodies; every piece of him fits into every piece of you like a puzzle, but somehow he seems to get closer, squeezing into your hips a little tighter and kissing your lips a little rougher.

His heart beats wildly against his chest, red leaking onto his cheeks and blue spilling from the ocean in his eyes. He looks at you with love—so much love that it’s seared into your very being and becomes your own identity as the only woman Gojo Satoru ever truly, madly, deeply loved.

“I love you, ‘Toru.”

It’s the combination of those four little words that pushes Satoru over the edge, his hips jerking violently while his cock pumps ropes upon ropes of creamy cum inside your spent pussy, filling you up until you can’t be filled any more.

He collapses on top of you, head reduced into a fluffy snowball that takes refuge in the crook of your neck, and that’s your cue to hold him close, pampering him with all the affection you’re otherwise so frugal about. He’s touch-starved to the point of shaking in your embrace, nearly purring as your arms loop behind his back and your lips touch his shoulders, peppering incomplete kisses across his hot skin.

Your hands relocate to his cheeks as he regains enough composure to face you, an idiotically bright smile stretching from one ear to the other. He nuzzles your palms, pressing kisses at the center of each and then rubbing his nose against them like a content kitten who just received the world’s greatest belly rub.

Aiko should learn from him.

“I love you more, hunny bunny.” Satoru beams, soft rays of sunshine pouring from the cracks in his dimples. “Non-negotiable.”

You bask in the afterglow together, locking toes as if you’re trying to hold hands and making out like two teenagers in heat. Correction: two idiots in love.

Your so-called honeymoon period never ended, probably because you never ran out of things to love about each other. Right now, you’re loving how Satoru’s dick remains plugged inside your pussy despite its painful twitching, for the simple reason you asked him to stay like that a little longer.

You love how Satoru tries to keep his eyes open when you kiss just so you can appreciate them a while longer, and you love the light giggle that tickles your lips as you remind him that only sociopaths kiss with their eyes open.

You love the way Satoru buries his head between your tits and squeezes them against his cheeks, apologizing to his “girls” for not giving them the proper attention and promising expensive lingerie and whipped cream treatments when you get back to Tokyo.

You also love how when Satoru pulls out and sees the mess he made out of your hole, his seed rolling between your thighs in an endless stream, his first reaction is to grin, and his second is to teleport across the room, cleaning you up before you can realize he ever left. You love that the answer to the question “how?” is a cocky “because I’m Gojo Satoru,” which seems to be the answer to most things concerning him.

The list of things you love about your boyfriend grows exponentially after Satoru puts the two of you in bed and pulls you into his arms. You love his hugs. How you drown in them, how he engulfs you better than any dress, shirt, or skirt can. You love the comforting scent his pores exude and the temperature of his naked skin on yours.

You love the narrow hugs that date back to lazy mornings in your student one-bedroom apartment, splayed in a bed that could barely fit his enormous legs, and the wide, almost too comfortable ones you share in his king-sized bed. You love the silly, whiny tone that typically begs you to miss work and try to outlast eternity with him, now declaring it’s “sleepy time.”

You love the Satoru that chased after you until you loved him back, and the Satoru who patiently waits until your eyelids close first so you don’t go a minute without him.

“‘Toru?” You mumble into his chest, seconds before the last semblance of conscience fades away. “Did you turn it off? Your technique, I mean.”

“Did I?” Snowy lashes flutter slowly above his tired eyes. “Hmm, guess we’ll have to see in nine months.” Satoru kisses your forehead. “Goodnight, my little cuddle muffin.”

On second thought, there is one thing you hate about him.

“Goodnight, Gojo.”

“G-Gojo?! Hey, what happened to ‘Toru? Baby? I know you’re not sleeping—hey, wake up, I was just joking! Come on!”

43 Missed Calls—Principal Nanimon

You have 9 new voicemails.

Press play.

“Satoru!” The phone rattles in his grasp, nearly falling into the wooden plate splayed on his lap. “I think I told you to keep your phone on at all times! You are a sorcerer; show some responsib—”

“What is he going on about?” Satoru yawns, scratching the back of his head, and then scrolls to the next voicemail in line.

“Satoru! This is your final chance to answer before I—”

“Final my ass, there’s like—what, seven more of ‘ese?” He comments with a mouth full of fruit that the room service so kindly delivered a few minutes ago. Delicious. Another reason for him to drop a five-star review.

It’s no surprise when the third voicemail starts with the exact same enraged pronunciation of his name and continues with empty threats that want him scrubbing the entire school grounds. Yaga seems to have forgotten their teacher-student relationship ended a decade ago.

Neeeeeext.

“Satoru, I saw what Nanimon is, and I am not happy.”

“Oh? So he outgrew Windows XP?” He chuckles inaudibly.

Licking the sticky nectar off his fingers, Satoru pads toward the window, standing guard between the vicious sun rays and your sleeping form. You appear immune to Yaga’s ear-shattering voice, eyelids shut, and sheets kicked off your nude body, with your hair coiled around your head like a hornet’s nest.

Muffling the speaker with one hand, Satoru leans to untangle the hair from your open mouth. He thinks he might be partial to your charms, because even when he’s holding onto your spit-laced locks, he can only smile at how cute you are drooling in your sleep.

“Satoru? Satoru!” A voice far too guttural to be yours calls out to him, until he realizes Yaga’s voice has broken out of the voicemails.

“Principal Yaga!” Satoru greets once he puts some distance between himself and the bedding. “Good morn—”

“Satoru! What do you think you are doing not answering my calls?” The man fumes.

“Eating persimmons while watching my adorable girlfriend sleep,” he answers earnestly, switching apps and snapping a quick picture of your face. “She’s so pretty—ahhhh, I feel so lucky! Want me to show you? Do you even remember what a real woman looks like?” He taunts.

“She’s still your girlfriend?”

“Huh?” The phone changes ears. “Man, your memory is really failing you. How about I pay for you and Principal Gakuganji to go on a little vacation? I know this amazing resort for senior citizens; their cognitive enhancement therapy did wonders for my great-great-great uncle. Just say my name; they’ll treat you—”

“Satoru, this is important!” Yaga cuts him off. “You’ve been off the map an entire day,” fourteen hours, he corrects, “and haven’t popped the question? What are you waiting for?”

His gaze rakes over your exposed body, trailing the necklace of mauve lovebites around your neck. Smiling, “We’ve been busy.”

“Tell me you didn’t forget the ring.”

“Nah, it’s right here.”

Satoru reaches inside his yukata’s sleeve and examines the small jewelry box, tempted to ruin the surprise by grabbing the blue diamond ring and placing it around your finger—right here, right now. It will look so much prettier on you than it does gathering dust in its confinement.

“What about you?” He stores it away and resumes his call. “Did you do what I asked you to?”

A sigh. “It’s all ready on our side. Are you sure she’ll say yes? You sound confident, but a woman’s heart isn’t the same as jujutsu, Satoru. When it comes to love, the mouth is the source of disaster, and when it comes to you, it’s better to just give her the damn ring and say nothing.”

“And Sugiyama Kiyotaka says it’s fine as long as we understand each other. I get your point. Don’t need love advice from an old man with a doll fetish. I know what I’m doing. Besides, she’s the only one for me. She will say yes.”

A low roar reverberates from the speaker like a faulty engine that’s about to combust, and when it does combust, the entire room shakes. “Satoru! You’re gonna be a married man soon. Better shape up or—”

“Blah blah blah,” Satoru mocks. “Don’t you have anyone else to nag? I think Ijichi forgot to file that—”

“‘Toru?”

The sweet sound of your voice gives him all the reason he needs to hang up the phone after a hasty, “Don’t call me if you don’t need me, and if you do, then don’t.”

“Babyyyyyyyyyy!” He drags out the syllable as much as possible, an invisible cloud of dust appearing around his body when he falls on the empty space beside you, open arms wrapping your shoulders in an excruciatingly tight embrace. Kisses—lots of kisses slobbered all over your face while you are too drowsy to repel him.

“‘T-Toru! S-stop!” You chuckle hoarsely, reciprocating the sentiment however you can. “Who was that on the phone?”

“No one important,” Satoru grins, balancing his chin against your chest. “Ready for today? I got a very fun day planned ahead of us.”

A/N: If you made it this far, then congratulations! You finished reading my first Gojo fic (that made me fall in love with him jsjsjs)

As I mentioned above, chapter 1 is a flashforward to the main storyline that will start kicking chapter 2 onward. Expect laughable misunderstandings, questionable comedic moments, cat rescuings, college tutorings, and the angst behind Gojo's refusal to get married.

Hope you'll stick with! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments, are always appreciated 💙

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #jujustu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #i wanna tie the knot #satoru <3 #jjk gojo #jjk fanfic

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coolaboutlucy · 3 months

Text

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙚 | 𝙚. 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙖𝙢𝙨

pairing: nepo baby!business owner!ellie williams x afab!business owner!reader

tags: smut, fingering (r receiving), pet names/name calling?? (dirty girl, pretty, good girl, baby), slight praise??, god why is tagging so hard, mild language, unethical business practices??, thoughts are green, ellie lowk an asshole, but both reader and ellie are pretty harsh to eachother, maybe that’s it, bare with me if i forget something pls. 😭🙏

a/n: i wrote this directly on tumblr bc i did NAWT feel like pulling up google docs today saur the format might be a lil off. i was watching this show on netflix called ‘locked up’, and like an episode from season two is what inspired this!!! 😜 the show is good honestly it just drags on sometimes!!! ive actually never actually written smut any times before this (believe it or not hehe) anyways, let’s get into it!!!

P.S - DEDICATED TO @sweetysaccharine YAWP YAWP!!!! <333 HOPE U ENJOY POOKIEEEE

P.P.S - don’t look at the typos or i will find you (IM JOKING)

rumors traveled fast, and sometimes it wasn’t always good. for one, they could be infuriating. a company you’d been toe to toe with for.. quite some time had gotten a new ceo. some young girl. articles appeared online about some kinda nepotism scandal. the photo on the top of the article displayed a photo of the previous ceo — joel miller, and the new owner, ellie. they looked happy. but why were they accused of something as harmful as nepotism? long story short, joel turned his brother down for the position (even though he was the better option) so ellie could have it. favoritism of sorts. but god was she infuriating! her stupid, flashy displays of wealth (that probably didn’t even belong to her) made you so mad! and also, her arrogance and her constant need to compete with you was very infuriating aswell. you had influence, she had money. wouldn’t these things be considered as a double kill in some perfect world? yes. would you ever even consider working with someone like her? absolutely not. you couldn’t even stand being in the same vicinity as her whenever you two ended up at the same social events.

imagine that terrible, ugly feeling of anger that coursed hot through your veins once finding out she’d brought possibly one of the biggest clients you could’ve ever had. it was one thing for her to shove it in your face that she was wealthy but this? she’d completely overstepped. storming your way through the companies large building, you find yourself at her offices door knocking like a madwoman. “open the goddamn door, williams!” you yell as you attempt to open the door on your own. she doesn’t say anything, but you’re just almost certain she’s smirking or something. she opens the door with this.. look. it was weird. a perfect mixture of condescending, arrogance, and ‘i know what i did and i don’t regret it’. “are you insane?” “mm.. yeah. i guess so.” you laugh, dumbfounded by her. “how bout you come into my office for a seat and a drink?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “let’s handle this civilly, shall we? knowing you, i have the feeling that this could get real ugly.” she pushed open the door with that same condescending/arrogant smile. of course, reluctantly, you walk inside. maybe this could be resolved civilly.

the sound of some smooth music played. it sounded like micheal buble or something. she walks around her desk to pour you a glass of bourbon. she hands it to and you just hold it. “it’s not poisoned, see?” she says before taking a sip. you take a sip and of it before putting the glass on her desk. “so, i realized that.. i have something you want.” the something being that client. “why else would i be here? that was a really petty move and you know that.” she chuckled. “yknow, i could just.. refer them back to you.” initially, you’re in disbelief. ellie? being generous? no way. she must’ve completely lost it. “but! it comes with a price.” of course it does. nothing was free, not in this economy. you kept your expectations low for this very reason. you raise an eyebrow at her. “we could work together. become business partners.”

she turns her music up a little. she dances her way over to you, circling you a bit. “no chance, ellie. how could i ever work with someone like you?” she chuckled again. “why wouldn’t you work with ‘someone like me’? you have something that i want aswell.” “what?” “power. influence. however you may wanna word it. i admire that.” it had to be some sick joke. why would she wanna work with you? “shouldn’t all your daddys money be more than enough to keep you in a position of power?” you quarry, then crossing your arms. a part of you didn’t believe that she’d been the one asking you for help.

“just think about it. me, giving you money. you, drawing power hungry clients in with that pretty face of yours. we’d work together like yin and yang.” she proposed before taking another sip of the drink in her glass. that was her giving a go at an analogy. was it good? she didn’t know. did she care? not at all. “you bullshitting me, williams?” “not at all. all you gotta do.. is say ‘yes’. cmon.” she offers her hand, those pretty slender fingers and that tattoo that peeking from underneath that black button up shirt were just so.. enticing. you were in your head, just thinking. was this a good idea? could i trust her? she probably has bad intentions. but she was so tempting. this had to be one of the seven deadly sins or something.

she snaps infront of your face. “where’d you go?” she asks. “nowhere.” you respond quickly. “so, you taking the offer or not? or.. will i have to convince you?” she takes a step closer to you. temptation taints your brain.

you’re not in control of your thoughts anymore. ellie was.

her hand seeks solace on your waist. “shouldn’t finding business like this be considered illegal?” you whisper to her. “im not a law abiding woman. and quite frankly, i don’t give two shits.” maybe it wouldn’t be illegal if nobody knew. but all you thought about was her. how she smells. how she’s looking at you. how her hands feel on your body. you can’t stop yourself. your lips crash down onto hers. your fingers tangle in her auburn hair as the both of you kiss passionately. she brings you to her desk, knocking stuff over as she sat you on her desk.

glass shattered, pictures were knocked out of their frames, and her computer mouse was.. somewhere. your back arches into her touch as you let out a soft moan into her mouth. she takes the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. in the competition of dominance between your tongues, she reigns supreme. her hands slide up your body and end up on your oxford button up shirt. she doesn’t unbutton it, she rips that shit open. “i’ll get you a new one.” she mumbled as the buttons from the shirt scatter across the room.

“you’d better. or else id have to come back here and get it by force.” “oh please, you’ll be back here for more reasons than a goddamn shirt.” she said as she peppers kisses down to your jawline, then your neck. “don’t leave any marks.” “but why?” “oh, i dunno, cause i don’t want anyone asking me who i had sex with?” “who gives a shit? your workers get paid to look the other way, don’t they?”

well, she makes a good point. and you can’t argue with a point as valid as that. she sinks her teeth into a sweet spot of your neck, making you moan out as she runs her tongue along the new mark. she sticks her tongue out again to run it all the way down to one of your boobs. the sensation makes you shiver. “wore this pretty bra for me, didntcha? you were just expecting this. you must’ve wanted me to touch you like this, didn’t you? dirty girl. must’ve been waiting for me to bend you over this table.” she rambled all while stripping you of your bra, then leaving soft kisses and licks across the valley of your breasts.

she takes her time, making you wait for it. she knew what she was doing to you, and she was going to make you wait. “ellie, you’re going soo slow! you know what i want.” you whine as she leaves kisses and bites all over your exposed skin. “tell me what you want or you’ll get nothing. tell me where you want me.” she whispered. “i want your fingers.” “where?” “you know where.” “tell me or you get nothing.” you hesitate for a moment before saying feebly. “in.. in my pussy..” “that’s a good girl.”

she smiles as she pushes her hands into your slacks. she could feel your wetness. “i got you this worked up, huh? who knew little miss perfect could get this wet over me, a ‘nepo baby’?” she teased with a cocky smile. she slowly slides your slacks and underwear all the way down to your ankles before she applies a delicious amount of pressure to your clit. you gasp, your hand wrapping around her wrist. “oh, you like that do you, huh? you want more? fucking beg for it. cmon.” she applies more pressure to your clit, rubbing small and soft circles as her fingers ghost your sopping entrance. “oh— please ellie, i need more. give me more.” “gonna take more than that, baby.” you whine when she suddenly takes all that pressure away from you.

you let out another whine as you attempt to rut against her hand. her free hand slaps your thigh as she shakes her head in disapproval. “none of that. keep still. you get nothing until you beg like a good girl.” “please, please. ill do anything. just please touch me.” she chuckles at you. she found it cute how you were so desperate to chase that pleasure. “god, you’re so desperate. you need it so.. goddamn bad, don’t you?” she lets out a grunt in the middle of her sentence as she suddenly plunged into your pussy.

as she moves her fingers, she groans at how wet her you were. first she starts with middle finger, then adding her ring finger. her long fingers are hitting that sweet spot in you. she was making you see stars. “listen to yourself. look at ‘er, she’s crying for me.” she coos as she speeds her pace. you moan out. “watch me, baby.” you slowly look down at her fingers plunging in and out of you. sounds of wet squelching fill your ears. you bite your lip and you toss your head back as you let out a moan. you grind yourself down onto her fingers, chasing that wonderful and blissful orgasm.

you felt a pressure building up in your stomach. your eyes were fluttering open and shut. everytime you looked away, she stopped. you made sure to not look away. once that pressure in your stomach felt like it was gonna release, your moans became more broken. “ellie! ellie— oh fuck! ellie! im gonna cum! don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you say between moans as you bring your hand back down to hold her wrist in place.

“oh yeah? gonna cum? let go for me. make a mess on my fingers. cmon. i know you can do it.” she said as she kept her pace at that same one that was making you see stars. she’d been rambling something to you, talking you through it as she watched you cum all over her fingers. she helps you ride out your orgasm, a slight tremble in your legs becoming more apparent.

“what do we say?” “thank you.” she smiled as she pulled her fingers out. the sudden loss makes you whine. she sucks her fingers clean and you watch as her tongue runs across the length of her fingers. “still being a tease, williams?” you ask as you look at her while she does it. “mm.. well no, i dont think so. just savouring how good you taste.” when she was finally satisfied, she drops her hands. “so, you finally ready to stop being so stubborn and take the deal?” “not a chance if it means we get to have sex like this.” you respond with a chuckle. “maybe you need to be fucked again, hm?” she ask with a smile.

needless to say, you’d went another time, and on the third you fucked ellie. eventually you come to some sort of agreement after you’d been laid on her leather sofa, naked and feeling like you were floating. the only question you had now is what the hell had you gotten into. “will this turn into a scandal?” you ask. “.. probably not if we keep this under wraps.” she responds as she puts her head in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to it. “plus, yknow i can just pay the media off right? they won’t say anything. not a peep.” she reassured as she smiled softly.

#wlfabby #tlou #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us part two #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x you #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #ellie x afab!reader #ellie smut #tlou x reader smut

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55sturn · 3 months

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ BACK TO YOU

↳ masterlist!

↳ summary: in which no matter where they are in life, chris and y/n find their way back to one another, despite knowing that it never really works, until day he gives in and stops fighting what he knows is meant to be.

↳ pairings: chris sturniolo x fem!oc, reader x unnamed male!oc, chris sturniolo x fem!reader

↳ warnings: swearing, angst (a whole lot of it), verbal arguments, chris and y/n are toxic, implications of chris cheating, fluff if you squint, suggestive implications.

↳ author's note: loosely based off everytime by ariana grande!

THIRD PERSON POV

in every culture and every religion, there is some sort of evidence of soulmates existing. the person your soul is forever tied to, setting you up for heartbreak along the journey looking for that one person. love is at the root of the structure of every belief system. the person that has been so perfectly tailored to your heart and soul, meant to love you in the ways you spend your life searching for.

look up: invisible string by taylor swift, for a beautiful depiction of a soulmate inspired love song.

the only issue with having a soulmate, is that nine out of ten times, you don't know who your soulmate is. which often leads to you spend hours upon hours and years upon years searching for them, inevitably experiencing various stages and forms of heartbreak in hopes that once you do find your soulmate, your forever person, they are able to heal and fix you.

but in chris and y/n's love story, them healing each other wasn't always the case. they were the fairytale from hell, they were a wrongful depiction of soulmates, two souls tethered together by an invisible red string that who, instead of loving each other, had a tendency to tears each other's hearts into millions of pieces each time they tried to love one another.

they were two souls so delicately similar that it caused them nothing but pain and frustration. they loved one another in the wrong ways, but they were determined to make it work, albeit at the wrong times.

PRESENT TIME

chris sighed as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, with a quick roll of his eyes, he fished the thin device out of his pocket, knowing full well who was texting him as he made his rounds through the crowd of friends and acquaintances at the party he attended.

groaning, her named flashed again in his notifications, he hovered his thumb over the text before pressing down, begrudgingly opening the conversation he had wished hadn't started, despite deep down wanting her to reach out to him.

IMESSAGE TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N

Y/N: guess u forgot to tell me that u and ur new bitch of the week would be here🤣

CHRIS: don't start tonight y/n

Y/N: i'm just shocked is all, didn’t think she’d fuck with these ppl just by looking at her

CHRIS: "she" has a name, y/n

CHRIS: it’s gianna

Y/N: you act like i give a fuck

Y/N: it’s nice to see you tho

CHRIS: please y/n, aren’t you tired of this shit?

CHRIS: you and i don't work, we literally never fucking do

CHRIS: and i really like this girl

Y/N: if you genuinely mean that, why are you spending so much time explaining it to me? sounds like you’re just tryna convince yourself that you feel that way.

Y/N: but if it’s real, then i'm happy for you, it's just weird that you and i aren't here together.

chris rolled his eyes at her second to last text, the way she could see right through like he was made of glass, even through a text, was something he’d never be able to understand. or run away from. there was never any sense in him even trying to lie to her, she could read him like a book. and chris was her favourite book, she would read that book ten times over in one sitting if she could.

but chris willed up all the self control he had in his entire being to not seek out the girl he's loved since he was a tiny boy in middle school. he told himself that it was done for good. that's the thing with playground love, it doesn't always last for ever and ever and chris was finally starting to accept that.

he pocketed his phone and forced himself to look for gianna, his eyes briefly meeting y/n's as she spoke to some random influencer, the smile on her face not reaching her eyes as she focused on the boy in front of her. he soon spotted the girl he arrived with, her hand flirtatiously resting on vinnie's bicep as he spoke to her. with a less than enthusiastic scoff, he downed the rest of the drink in his cup and turned around, walking in the opposite direction toward the girl he called home.

once he was in earshot, he smirked to himself as she pawned her cup off onto the poor boy fighting for a chance with her in front of him. once she waved him off with a bittersweet smile, she turned back to chris. she tutted playfully as he rolled his eyes, her hand reaching up toward the back of his neck, pulling him flush against the front of her body.

"what happened to "i really like her"?" she chuckled, her arms wrapping around his neck as his hands fell to her waist, pulling her into a hug, his lips meeting her jaw as he sighed.

"vinnie got to her and she was all over him." he spoke against her skin as her nails gently scraped against his scalp, bringing him down from his emotional high as his shoulders slumped in her arms.

"wanna get out of here? go for a walk?"

"nah, m'tired and just wanna go to bed, you crashing at mine?"

"of course." she spoke, her hand slipping into his as they walked toward the door, nick and matt meeting them there soon after chris texted them, neither of them surprised to find chris leaving with y/n instead of his girlfriend.

"i'm so happy you're here y/n, chris is a different man when you're not around." nick snorted, climbing into the seat behind matt as y/n sat behind chris, his hand slipping between the two front seats as her fingers threaded through his again.

"i'm glad to be back for however long chris needs me to be." she whispered, her words cutting deep into chris' heart, knowing that she wouldn't be around permanently, their dynamic and ways of communicating only allowing them to be together for a short period of time. they’d spend most their days tangled in chris’ sheets, professing their undying love for one another, knowing very well their time would be ending once again, and that it’d end soon.

they found that while they loved each other so deeply, they showed it in all the wrong ways. instead of gentle and soft spoken words, their love for one another was reminded in the clashing of teeth and tongues during heavy make-outs, and wandering hands with their nails digging into the soft flesh they roamed.

their rekindled romance was once again called off when chris' girlfriend, gianna, had come back into his life a week later, apologizing for her behaviour and explaining that she had been a fan of vinnie's for a long time and the fan girl in her caused her to make questionable decisions.

with a meek smile and a backhanded comment about chris’ infidelity, y/n packed her bags and moved out of chris' room sadly bidding matt and nick a brief "see you later", which left them sighing as they were no stranger to watching y/n move in and out of the house a couple times every few months.

it wasn't long before chris had found himself missing the girl that knew him inside and out, that knew his heart like the back of her hand. a month after gianna came back, spewing excuses upon excuses, chris had broken up with her, claiming that his heart would forever belong to someone else and he couldn't bear to put her through the pain of not loving her the way she deserved to be.

chris knew that he should take this grace period and be alone instead of running back to the girl he always did, but he knew she was it for him, no matter what. he didn't understand why they couldn't love each other properly. he always looked at it in a way where they had too much love for one another and they just didn't know what to do with it.

he tossed and turned in his bed, his thoughts unrelenting and holding his ability to sleep hostage as his phone read 3:32 in the morning. groaning he unlocked his phone, his thumbs maneuvering their way to her conversation from muscle memory at this point before typing out a quick couple messages.

IMESSAGE TEXTS BETWEEN CHRIS AND Y/N

CHRIS: y/n come home

CHRIS: please

CHRIS: i cant sleep without you

CHRIS: i love you in a way that makes it hard to love anybody else

CHRIS: you are like a drug that i cant go without, you're deadass my soulmate bruh and i'm done denying that. you are the only person i want. the only that actually knows who i am, inside and out. the only person that can make me feel good the way you do. i want you. no more fighting it. we’re meant to be.

Y/N: i'll be there in 10.

every time y/n fell back into chris’ arms, it felt devastating and bittersweet. this time, it felt right. it felt like they had finally found solid ground and that the had found the way they were meant to be together. there was definitely some uncertainty about the longevity of their relationship overall, but they learned over time that they need to communicate. whether they stayed together or not for the final time, there was no doubt that they would always be intertwined in each other’s hearts.

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#Spotify #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x fem!reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x oc #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo oneshot #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x fem!reader #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x oc #christopher sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo oneshot #sturniolo triplets

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scribblingapparition · 1 year

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El Dios de la Brisa (K'uk'ulkan x reader) (1)

Summary: You are a passionate Marine Biologist who has lived in the Yucatan Peninsula for some time now. An accepted and welcomed member of the local village, you've been working through the heartache of losing your mentor and friend. You were not prepared for how your life would change and the discoveries you would make.

[Word count: 5,654]

. . .

There were many aspects of your profession that you adored.

You loved the time you spent doing fieldwork, gathering information about the diverse wildlife that inhabited the oceans and letting hours pass you by while you swim among them. You loved aiding in the restoration of habitats and looking at problems from all the different perspectives brilliant minds brought to the table to find solutions. You adored rehabilitating injured animals and felt a great sense of accomplishment and pride each time you released an animal back into the water where it belonged.

All of that is your driving force behind wanting to make a difference and take responsibility for the planet we all share and have to take care of.

There were threats to that passion.

Phone calls.

“The funding that your mentor left you won’t last an eternity. Listen, I know you are grieving her loss. We all are. But you need to stop finding excuses to push aside the real work that needs to be done elsewhere. Your technique of lab grown coral has completely revived the coral reefs in Culebra. You really impressed everyone in Puerto Rico with that. We need you here.” Enrique sighed, you could hear him shuffling papers as he spoke. “You’ve taken all her things back to her family and gotten a look at what she was working on in Yucatán. It’s time to move on.”

“It’s really nice of you to call in every week to repeat the same thing. Really keeps the conversation interesting.”

“You always have to take things the wrong way.”

“I’m not taking anything any sort of way. I’ve already told you, there’s something interesting here that’s got my attention and I have no intention of leaving until I’ve understood as much as I can. Funding or not, I’ll figure it out. I always do. Like I did before her, alright? So, thank you for the call but I don’t need you worrying about me. You or anyone.”

You didn’t enjoy being the sort of person that spoke to others like that but it’s what they brought out of you. You came from nothing and you had no one. Everything you had ever earned in your life you achieved through hard work and perseverance. You put yourself through school, through college, and with no help from anyone you managed to be taken under the wing of one of the world’s most brilliant marine biologists: Altagracia Alvarez-Delgado.

Paralleled stories and a common goal had united the two of you and together a real change happened in the world of ocean conversation. Your mentor had a way of inspiring crowds with her mastery in storytelling and she could create empathy in the hearts of others that got them to care – to truly want to join the cause of being responsible, intelligent, beings that could change the planet for the better. For everyone.

You had never admired anyone more. You never took a moment for granted, you never took her advice for granted, and you never took the many lessons you learned through her grace and humility for granted. You don’t experience loss when you don’t have anyone; her unexpected death sent you through a downward spiral you could not have predicted. It was in her honor that you traveled to her village to deliver the news of her passing and the last of her belongings. Her family had welcomed you, encouraged you to take up residence in her old cabin across the bay from the pyramid and gave you advice on how to find peace and comfort when you felt like you would never have it again.

It had never been in your plans to stay.

Now you couldn’t seem to leave.

You were naturally a curious person, always were. The draw to the sea called out to you like the hypnotizing melodies of a siren song. It didn’t matter if you never truly had a home because as long as you were by the ocean and allowed to get lost underneath its waves you would feel at home. There was something about the bay that called out to a part of you that was in tune enough to listen.

The first couple of months of living among the villagers you had taken to conduct undisturbed research of the area. Multiple times a day, Ines Delgado (your mentor’s mother), would spot your pack resting in the same place it always was in the shore line while you dove to the depths with your gear to spend time around the reefs and exploring the extensive cave systems. Each time you shared your discoveries with her over coffee.

There is one thing you could not get over.

“Ines, sinceramente, he viajado por el mundo y he visto todo tipo de ecosistemas y hábitats. Con la forma que están los océanos ahora, muchos de ellos están en diferentes estados de sufrimiento, pero estos…los que veo aquí son casi perfectos.” You had told her both in a state of disbelief and admiration, knowing that whatever your mentor had started here was working incredibly well. “Lo que su hija ha comenzado aquí es brillante. Ella es brillante.”

(Ines, sincerely, I have traveled around the world and I have seen all types of ecosystems and habitats. With the way the oceans are now, a lot of the ones I have seen have been in different states of suffering, but these…the ones I have seen here are almost perfect. What your daughter started here is brilliant. She is brilliant.)

Shaking her head, her hands trembled slightly due to her age as she brought the cup to her lips to drink. “Es la protección de el que la ha guardado.”

(It is all due to his protection, that has kept it safe.)

“Quien es el?”

(Who is he?)

“K'uk'ulkan. La serpiente emplumada existe. Lo he visto. Inspiro miedo en mi, cuando lo vi. Estaba vestido en trueno y oro, plumas y perlas. Alas en sus pies y rabia en sus ojos. Espero que nunca lo tenga que ver otra vez. Mi niña, tienes que tener cuidado por dónde exploras cuando estás debajo de esas olas. Rara vez estás sola. Nada existe en el océano que la serpiente no permita.”

(K'uk'ulkan. The feathered serpent exists. I’ve seen him. He inspired fear in me, when I saw him. He was dressed in thunder and gold, feathers and pearls. With wings on his feet and rage in his eyes. I hope to never have to see him again. My girl, you must be careful where you explore when you are underneath the waves. Rarely are you alone. Nothing exists in the ocean that the serpent does not allow.)

You promised Ines you would be careful. In a world where aliens can snap their fingers and change the course of life in the universe it never hurts to be aware and respectful of the myths and the gods others believed in for you never know what you might encounter. You had smiled and taken her hand in yours when the words left your mouth and a promise to be extra careful was made.

☀

It did feel as if you were breaking that promise now as you left behind your phone, not wanting to answer any more annoying phone calls, grabbed your pack and gear and headed up the trail to the base of the pyramid.

There was no escaping the heat.

It was simply impossible.

There was little solace to find in the shade provided by the thick foliage of the trees and the ocean breeze did manage to move leaves in gentle sways enough to reach you but your prayers to Kinich Ahau sadly went unanswered as the heat of the sun did not lessen. There were guided tours around the pyramid during the busy seasons where tourists invaded the peninsula in hopes of seeing, but never truly appreciating, the history that can be found in this land. One of the guides had befriended you and had mentioned a cave opening surrounded by an arch of hieroglyphics that housed the clearest water in the area.

It was believed to be a gateway to an ancient city forged in the depths of the ocean where the sunlight could not reach and many who still believed in the ancient gods left offerings for K'uk'ulkan.

Not only that but there were said to be schools of fish that pulsed light like eye catching signals that were rumored to be found deeper within the system. It had been mentioned a while ago and you had always had it in the back of your mind to see if you could spot and observe the fish.

What better time to do it than after a call reminding you that you might have to leave this paradise behind soon because of funding, of all things?

It had taken some time to reach your destination as it was not a well traveled path. Making sure you were hydrated and ready to go, you began to suit up. Your diving ensemble was state of the art. The suit itself worked wonders for helping you camouflage to your surroundings allowing you for the best sights of the marine life that happily swam around you after they got used to your presence. You didn’t have to wear a heavy tank that limited your time in the water thanks to the mask your mentor’s genius friend had invented and the fins you swam with actually worked pretty well when you were in a hurry.

Making sure your pack was hidden away in case someone else decided to explore the area, you carefully stepped into the water. The mask you wore covered your face entirely allowing you the luxury of not having to let your eyes adjust to the water. You did close your eyes for a moment, however, to take in how amazing it felt to be completely submerged.

This was home.

You were beneath a pyramid that was built somewhere along the 3rd and 9th AD by a powerful and rich civilization, miles away from where others would consider your actual home, sinking into an unknown darkness without any fear of what might be waiting for you. So many others would not find this particular situation comforting at all but you did.

The water called to you.

Like the soothing song.

This was home.

“Mi niña, tienes que tener cuidado por dónde exploras cuando estás debajo de esas olas. Rara vez estás sola. Nada existe en el océano que la serpiente no permita.”

(My girl, you must be careful where you explore when you are underneath the waves. Rarely are you alone. Nothing exists in the ocean that the serpent does not allow.)

Detaching the flashlight strapped to your thigh, you brought it up to shine at the cavern walls. You had been swimming for some time now, alone in the darkness, and though you had encountered some animals none of them were the glowing fish the tour guide had mentioned. What you had found, however, were intricate hieroglyphics that seemed almost untouched by time. Your eyes widened as you took in the absolute artistry in front of you.

How had they not been eroded by the currents after centuries?

You touched them and allowed your fingers to trace through the creases of the smoothly carved images. Had these been above water at some point? What did they mean? You could only make out a few images. Pushing back to get a wider view and moving your hair so nothing obstructed your vision, you listened to the sound of your own breathing as you moved the light further down; eyes eagerly searching for new wonders when suddenly your breath caught in your throat.

Eyes. You had seen eyes staring up at you and the moment your light hit them, whatever it was moved out of the way quickly. They weren’t the eyes of a fish, it looked human, it looked like a person.

You immediately moved your light all around you, twisting to see if you could catch a glimpse of what had run away from you. You had felt the water move and push against you as whatever it was swam away but it was back to nothing. It was just you in the darkness and the sound of your racing heart but you were no longer fooled. You were not alone.

Years of diving experience have made you become extremely well aware of your surroundings. You had to be when you spend as much time as you do in the ocean where the animals that lived there have evolved over millions of years to perfectly exist within the places you were not fully equipped to be in. That’s why you weren’t shrugging off what you saw as a figment of your imagination or a construct of your mind adjusting to the dark.

You saw a man. The eyes of a man.

And now you were seemingly alone but there was something there, something in the quiet shadows and you could all but feel his gaze.

Movement came from underneath you and into the path of your flashlight calmly wandered a nurse shark. Large, brown, and gentle; most definitely a nurse shark. Your brain began to give you facts about how many different species of sharks are cave dwellers and how nurse sharks are most definitely one of many different kinds found in the peninsula. You tried to calm your breathing to the almost lazy movements of the animal before you who was not frightened at all. It was home, it felt safe.

Yet you could not just simply calm your mind enough not to worry.

There it was again. You could feel something beneath you. Remaining calm, you closed your eyes as tightly as you could, reminding yourself of so many different situations you had been in where the danger level had been much higher and never had you felt this much fear. Never once had you feared even the biggest ocean creature but a man, this man…

You pointed your flashlight beneath you.

Below, curling up ready to attack, was a giant serpent.

Its tongue extended past its wide open jaw and around the head sharp triangle-like spikes circled around it in layers like a lion’s mane. The light only reached so far but it was clear that it was posed in action and ready to devour you whole.

K'uk'ulkan

Fear moved you before your mind could rationalize the giant feathered serpent to be nothing but a statue. You had never complained about the quality of the swimming fins you wore but quickly kicking your feet to get away from your perceived threat, you had moved too quickly right into a protruding hieroglyph that smashed into the shield protecting your face, your mask. You didn’t think that you hit it hard enough to crack but water began leaking into your mark by your eye, causing you to move both hands quickly to try and stop it. Your flashlight drops into the darkness. You cannot believe how unprofessionally you are acting and how stupid your decisions have been when you know better. She taught you to know better.

The water was now gathering beneath your chin. Your body was pressed against the cave wall, one hand trying to cover the crack in your mask while the other maneuvered around your bags around your waist to find something to fill the crack. Your hair bunched in front of you as you moved and during that movement something that went down to the cave floor and retrieved your flashlight.

You bet it wasn’t the nurse shark as the light turned off and the darkness did what the serpent wanted to do.

It swallowed you whole.

You centered yourself as much as you could and the water stopped as it reached your lips thanks to the plaster you had which you securely placed on top of the damaged part of your mask. It was not a permanent fix and you needed to get out of the caves. Now. Your heart was racing and you could feel your hand trembling as you gripped another flashlight from where they were strapped to your thigh but before you could turn it on strong hands grabbed your own and pulled you forward.

Instinctively, you thrashed against their hold hoping to escape but it felt like trying to pull your arms away from steel. You were pulled forward again and in the darkness your hands reached out and you felt…were those beads? A necklace? A chest? There wasn’t much time to determine what anything was before you were pulled further into the darkness. Whatever had you moved with the ease of an eel and the strength of a shark. It was disorienting being pushed around in total darkness with the water inside your mask splashing around, making you cough it out when your hazardous breathing accidentally made you swallow some of it. You could do nothing but let yourself be led.

You should’ve listened more carefully to Ines.

It felt like an eternity later but eventually you saw light. This cave you did not recognize but that mattered little as you were released and you began swimming towards the surface. You must be somewhere close to the surface as it seemed to be more than an air pocket where you were in. In the center was a platform, a perfect circle made out of stone that sat above the water and you gripped onto the edge with all your might ignoring the pain as you raised yourself onto it.

Your mask was the first thing to be removed as you moved to the center of the circle, coughing up water and breathing lungfuls of air. You were greedy after almost being sure breathing air was something that would never happen again. On your back, eyes facing the stalagmites reaching down towards you from the cave’s ceiling, feet still protected by the fins, and mask discarded next to you. You counted yourself lucky to be alive.

You had said it in your call to Enrique what seemed like forever ago even though it was just that very day. There was something about this place that refused to let you leave and your need to discover it, to understand it, had almost landed you a watery grave in the place you felt most at home.

Turning yourself onto your stomach, your wrists hurt where you had been grabbed and dragged through the water. Whatever it was, whatever that humanoid was, had the strength of a killer whale. You sat up and looked into the water. There was nothing there at first but then out of the water emerged a king.

You didn’t know who he was, what he was, but instinctively deep down you knew you were in the presence of something ancient, something above a human. It was like the water both clinged to him and helped him rise; a pure display of power just right there before your eyes. His hair was darker than the shadows of the caves, his neck adorned with gold and pearls, his eyes contained the rage of a summer storm, and on his feet…wings.

Fluttering white wings.

It can’t be…

He spoke in Yucatec Maya that much you were sure of. The pronunciation and formation of the words you were familiar with as the locals had tried to teach you one several occasions. It was too fast for your less than basic knowledge to pick out any words you knew but you did not need to be fluent in his language to understand that what he was saying certainly wasn’t good.

Then he surprised you.

“You have wandered around my home as if it belonged to you.” The anger in his voice was palpable yet he remained right where he rose from the water. “For many months, you pushed past the boundaries set in place and ignored the warnings to satisfy your own greed. My people have kept a close watch on you. You have trespassed for the last time, surface-dweller. What do you say for yourself?”

“I…” You struggled to find words, any words, in the presence of his might and fury. It may have been the incredible situation that you were in that made your mind override the need for survival with boundless curiosity and amazement. It was the only explanation you could think of for the way you sat up to look directly at him while your mind went wild processing and connecting what you now had knowledge on.

“It’s you. You’re…him. She was right. They were right! They truly had seen you. But the stories span hundreds of years, that must mean you’ve been alive for quite some time! A-and the reefs, the fish, they’re in abundance here. A thriving healthy community amidst so many disasters. If your people were watching me then-it was their work! I knew it! There was no way everything could be that pristine with the level of tourism, even with the help of the locals. It’s unfortunate to say that but it-it makes sense, you-”

He roared in Maya t’aan; though you may not have understood him exactly, you did understand context and his call for silence as his patience diminished. The cavern walls amplified his distaste as he stepped onto the stone circle before you. You bowed your head in fear of looking into his eyes again and kept your hands close to you in an attempt to stop them from trembling.

“My name is (Y/N) (L/N). I am a marine biologist and I never once intended to trespass into your territory. I have dedicated myself, my life, to the betterment of the oceans.” You explained through a shaky voice as he neared you, eyes firmly placed on the stone before you. “I may have wandered too close to places I should not have been at but I swear to you I meant no harm. Not to you, your people, or any creatures I may have encountered. Meent' uts, K'uk'ulkan.”

((Please, K'uk'ulkan.))

It felt to you as if an eternity had passed in the quiet that followed.

He wasn’t unaware of the state of the surface world. To be prepared for your enemy meant keeping yourself knowledgeable on their movements, their advances, their whispers. The reports he had gotten from his Talokanil is that you had an understanding of the oceans in ways they had not seen other surface dwellers have before. The ocean creatures calmed in your presence, almost welcoming it, seeking you out when you entered their home. You did not seem hostile or aware at all of their existence yet you chose to explore many of the routes created to lead to Talokan. You could never reach it. Not with your mask and suit that would do nothing to protect you from the pressure of the deep or the frigid temperature.

Your good deeds preceded you and just as your curiosity led you, unknowingly, to them it was his curiosity to meet the one his scouts spoke of that had led him to you.

“I have many names. My people call me K'uk'ulkan, but my enemies call me Namor.” He spoke with a deadly tone, causing your eyes to close as your mind jumped to the worst. “You have caught my attention as many surface dwellers have not. You are not welcomed in these waters and it will do you well to remember my words. Nothing roams my oceans, close to my people, without my permission and you do not have it.”

☀

There were many aspects of your profession that you adored.

Phone calls serving as reminders that your funding was running out was not one of them.

Being banished from the place you most loved by an ancient feathered serpent god was not one of them.

It had been a full moon cycle since that fateful encounter and you had taken a lot of that time to think about what the future held for you. It was difficult ignoring the call of the sea but that time had been spent being more involved with the village and carefully listening to all of the parts of their culture they chose to share with you. There were those that believed and those that did not heed the tales of the elders. You did your best to remain neutral but interested.

He had disappeared into the water after forbidding you from telling anyone of his existence and of what you had now come to know. Your mask had also mysteriously vanished. You had made it back to your cabin by the time the sun dived deep beneath the waves and for the rest of that night you could not sleep.

“Estos turistas! ¡No tienen respeto por nadie ni por nada!”

((These tourists! They don't have respect for anyone or anything!))

That’s how you had been woken up by a young boy named Mateo that you had befriended during your time in the village. He told you that there had been a big boat, painted in bright colors, that had been rented by some tourists a couple of times over; the boat was filled with men disturbing the wildlife and the boy had seen them wrestling a sea turtle out of the water. Mateo had shouted at them to stop from the shore but that did nothing as they did not listen.

The wind blew your hair behind you as you steered your boat in the direction of where the boy had seen the turtle go after it had been thrown back into the water. They’re fast swimmers and with only the light of the moon it would be a miracle if you spotted the injured animal but you had to try.

You were around the area of where the boat had last been seen by Mateo and looking back at the bay, you had moved farther away than they had been by a lot. But this is where your heart had guided you and you never doubted your instincts. You prepped the boat and lowered the anchor, quickly working on lifting the heavy ramp off the side of your little vessel preparing to have to lift a decent sized sea turtle. The bay was the home to many beautiful green sea turtles and though they were stunning, they were large heavy animals. Usually a rescue like this would be done by a team but it was just you.

You in the middle of the pitch black ocean you were told you weren’t welcomed in.

You were steady as the boat rocked and you held onto the railing of the steps leading down as you looked all around you and placed your hand in the water. This world had many living in it with special abilities forced to be kept secret for their safety. You did not believe you had any. You were sure there was nothing special about you until your early days on the field proved you wrong. You couldn’t communicate with sea animals but they did seem to come to you when they needed help.

Too many things happened that had no real good explanation for you to brush them off as coincidences.

The ocean was a completely different world from the one you lived on, now more than ever you were aware of that fact. Regardless of what you believed was real or not, you knew you could not go searching for the injured one so you closed your eyes, gripping onto the side latter until your knuckles hurt, and called out to the animal.

You felt ridiculous.

You weren’t special.

It wasn’t going to work.

Moments passed with no result and you had to fight the urge to just jump in the water, knowing the search would not be fruitful without your equipment. Your eyes watered and you scoffed at yourself becoming emotional. It had not been easy spending a month away from your research, away from laughing underneath the waves as fish darted around you and intelligent little octopi tried to steal your stuff. Just as it had not been easy to lose the one person who understood your need to be in the water.

A head with large eyes and hexagonal shaped markings popped out from the dark and soon the entire body came with it. The shell had been cracked, almost cut into. It wasn’t unheard of for tourists to try to remove the shells off the turtles to keep them as souvenirs and it angered you that it had even been attempted.

Your gasp of surprise quickly became gentle words of encouragement.

“Hi, beautiful, hello. It’s okay. It’s okay. You found me and I’m going to help you, okay? You’re a big girl aren’t you? I gotcha, beautiful. You’re so smart, all turtles are. I’m going to take care of you, let me just-” You had turned to face the deck and yelled.

K'uk'ulkan stood on the deck of your boat. Water rolled off his body and the moon silhouetted his imposing figure, allowing the pearls around his neck to glow on their own. The wings on his feet shook the moisture off of themselves and in his hand he held a scepter (or was it a spear, there wasn’t much light) crafted of gold and jade.

“You scared me! I didn’t even hear you-wait, your majesty, wait! I didn’t go back on my word. I need your help. Please.” You pleaded while frozen to your spot on the stern. “She’s hurt. She came to me for help. I can’t lift her onto the ramp and then onto the boat alone but if you could help me. Not for me. For her. Meent' uts, K'uk'ulkan.”

You had said it again. You had begged the god the same way you had done in that cave.

For the second time he was inexplicably moved to spare you.

The green sea turtle was young and healthy, you estimated around 200 to 250 lbs just by her sheer size. He showed absolutely no difficulty lifting up and placing the animal in the containment tub.

“I kept my word, you know.” You said as you quickly moved to grab a flashlight to inspect the shell. “I didn’t step into the water once. But this is my job, what I’m passionate about. I can’t just sit back and stay inside my cabin knowing there’s someone out here that needs me. If this gets me killed, so be it. Just let me make sure she gets treatment, an open shell like this is dangerous. I don’t want an infection to set in.”

You lost yourself in your work. Quickly diagnosing what you could without your equipment, writing it all down, and making preparations to get back to the cabin and contact the right people before you noticed that he was still there; watching your every move as you made it, concealing whatever he felt behind the strong confident body language of a god.

“You are different.” His head tilted to the side as he allowed himself to see you, to truly see you. “Her pain is soothed by your touch and you called out to her in the water. I saw you. How?”

“No, I didn’t do that. I was just, um, trying something. It’s a coincidence.”

“How did you know where to guide your boat in the darkness?”

You didn’t know what to say.

“I’ve got good instincts. I have to take her back to land and call the closest rehab facility. Will you allow me that much?” You asked, not wanting to rush him and ask the deity that may or may not decide to end your life to leave so you could get the turtle to safety as quickly as possible.

He bowed his head in agreement and you did your best not to sigh in relief right in front of him. It was left unsaid but it was understood and this would not be your last encounter and that it would not be the last time the conversation was brought up. You didn’t think about that now, or you tried not to at least, as you started bringing in the ramp and calling up the anchor to start your return to shore.

You had a job to do.

The god’s sentencing would have to wait.

☀

You had caught the attention of a god unlike any on the surface world had before.

There were no early signs of how much your life would change in the simple refusal of leaving the place you were slowly carving out a home after a lifetime of denying yourself one. The things you wished you could change were how you had gotten there; you would do anything to bring back your mentor. The past could not be changed but the future could be forged into whatever you desired.

There were so many stories to tell of how you got to where you are and you intended to share them. It’s been a long journey to get here.

To your boat sitting alone in the middle of dark waters, welcomed, with moonlight shining overhead.

With you sitting on the stern, hand in the water, calling out to the depths to the king that had stolen your heart as if it had always been meant for him.

It always took a moment and you could not see into the inky black waves but you could feel him approaching and your heart melted when a hand took yours within the water and laced your fingers together.

“You came.” You smiled, using your other hand to move his hair away from those eyes you loved so much.

“I always will when you are the one calling. Join me. I have much to show you.”

☀

((A/N: I'm excited to be actually inspired to write for the first in so many years! This is part one of many one shots that won't be tied to each other so they can be read in any order! If you got to this point and you want to talk about the movie, I'm just one message away! L'iik'ik Talokan!))

#namor #namor x reader #namor x you #black panther wakanda forever #mcu fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #L'iik'ik Talokan #namor x y/n #tenoch huerta #El Dios de la Brisa

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lovelettersfromluna · 11 months

Text

｡:°ஐ ʚĭɞ The Bug Collector ｡:°ஐ ʚĭɞ

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: The one where you own a sweet little book store, and Ellie makes it her life mission to torment you.

an: a request from @ximtiredx !! (Thank you so much btw). Basically Ellie is a raging asshole with a giant fucking crush on you, and you’re too sweet and oblivious to even notice, so she just comes off as cocky and mean heh. ALSO! This is most definitely a small town fic! The summer is in full swing and it’s inspiring me so much to make something inspired by it. I strayed away from Ellie being a dickhead a tiny bit towards the end bc I can’t help but make her soft and enamored with the reader I’m sorry @ximtiredx 😭 Anyways, I hope you enjoy!! (Not proofread again SO SORRY)

Warnings: 18+ smut!! Ellie is kind of an asshole in this one and very bad at feelings. A tiny bit of angst? Reader is a little oblivious, thigh riding sort of?? Scissoring sort of?? I KNOW ANOTHER SCISSORING FIC IM SORRY it just made the most sense to me, pet names, Ellie is obsessed with readers tits, slight mean!ellie (she redeems herself later), super fluffy at the end, let me know if I missed anything!

The small fan you had perched up on your counter did nothing to cool you down.

The summer had been brutal, and business was extremely slow because no one wanted to set foot out into the miniature oven that was your town. You let out a soft sigh, doodling little stars and moons all over your notebook, which was completely fucking empty.

It was too warm out, and you were suffering the worst case of writers block. It was like any thoughts that came into your head were always involving how hot you were and how much you wanted to be anywhere else other than where you were right now.

And that wasn’t even like you. You adored your little book store, putting your entire heart and soul into bringing new stories to the people of your town, your heart fluttering every time you rang up someone and they had that familiar face of wonder and excitement as they waited for you to wrap up their books in your brown paper bags, your cute store logo written on the front.

But it was hard to be excited for that when the only person you saw was the baker next door, and when the summer was melting you from the inside out.

It was almost noon, and you were contemplating closing up shop early and going home. You’d still be hot, but you’d be hot in the comfort of your little home.

But then the bell above your door rang, signaling that a customer had arrived.

And your face was lighting up, because finally, someone was there that you could talk to.

But of course, out of everyone in your very small town, the person that happened to walk through your doors was of course none other than Ellie Williams herself.

You didn’t have a problem with Ellie, you loved all your customers equally. Giving each and every one of them the same sweet smile that you always did, making sure to throw in extra goodies with every purchase, because you truly adored them all for supporting your tiny store.

But Ellie was a little….mean.

Most things went right over your head, because you were too caught up with trying to help her find a book that she’d like (which she usually never even bought anything from your store). But other things, you did catch onto.

Like when she teased you for being an old lady stuck in a 20 something year olds body, that one sort of hurt your feelings. Or when she asked you when the last time it was that you went to a party or a bar and no tea parties didn’t count, also hurt. Or, when she’d make fun of your clothes, specifically calling you a farmer whenever you’d wear your favorite pair of overalls, they were cute, okay?

So some of the things she said did hurt your feelings, but you just assumed that she was just…like that, that all of that was just Ellie being Ellie. No matter what, you never stopped giving her your sweetest smile, because as much as she wanted you to.

You never took it personally.

Your sweet smile is on your face as you perk up once you see her, straightening your back out and adjusting your posture as you give her a wave.

“Ellie! Welcome in! Having a good day?” You chirped, and she’s already stalking her way towards you, smug smirk on her face as she leans her forearms against your counter, shaking her head as she turns your fan so that it’s now only hitting her.

“It’s fuckin’ hot sweetheart, do you think I’m having a good day?” Her voice is rough and raspy, and you can’t help but sigh softly before nodding in agreement.

“It is…I do wish it was cooler in here for you” you sighed, looking down at your fan that was blowing warm air through her pretty brown hair. “Looking for anything specific today? Maybe I can help”

And you’re flashing that sweet smile in her direction again, making her roll her eyes. “Are books all you can ever think about? God it’s a little pathetic, don’t you think sweetheart?”

Her words make you frown, but then you remember that, that’s just Ellie.

You let out a soft sigh before you shrug, your lips pouting out a bit as you speak. “I dunno…books are just…they’re comforting, you know? It’s nice to lay down after a long day and just read” you explain.

And Ellie is holding back a groan because she’s picturing you in bed, in her t shirt, reading a book, and she can already feel herself getting turned on. It’s pathetic because you haven’t even done anything to make her want you.

Maybe that’s why she picks on you so much.

You don’t even try and she’s putty in her hands, and that pisses her off. You don’t give her any special treatment, you don’t bat your eyelashes like the other girls whenever she compliments you, and you act like she’s just any other person when she walks into your store, trying to find it in herself to ask you out and not be a dick to you.

But she doesn’t, she’s always mean to you.

She likes the way your cheeks get red, and she thinks you almost like that she’s so mean. There’s just something about the way you take deep inhales after she’s said something particularly nasty that has her smirking like an asshole.

“That’s fuckin lame man…and you know it” she sighs out, pushing herself off of your counter. She finally gets a good look at you once she does, and she’s shamelessly letting her eyes drift down your pretty body.

The warmer months are Ellie’s favorite, because it forces you to wear less and less clothes.

Your white linen dress hugs your mid size perfectly, pushing your tits up more than she’s ever seen them before. It’s just short enough that she gets to see more of your plush thighs. She’s biting her lip like she’s staring at a fucking meal, her green eyes burning from a lack of blinking before she looks up at you, raising her eyebrows once she realizes she’s missed what you said.

You furrows your eyebrows as you watch her watching you, looking down at your dress. Was there a stain on you or something? Or maybe she was going to make fun of your dress?

When she doesn’t, and she continues to stare at you, you repeat yourself.

“I said, that it’s fine that you feel that way…we’re just different, that’s all” you nod to yourself before you round your counter and make your way deeper into your book store, busying yourself with organizing your shop a bit more.

Ellie follows you, leaning up against the shelves that you’re restocking as she's eyeing you up and down, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she watches you.

It's annoying because you're so fucking oblivious. You don't notice any of the attention that she gives you. You don't notice the way her eyes roam down your body, or the way she's dead silent whenever you bend over to pick up a stack of books, Ellie is positive that she needs to tattoo 'I want you' on her forehead for you to get the message, and even then it wouldn't be clear to you how badly she wants you.

She also hates when you say that, that you and her are different. It sounds like you're dismissing her attempts at trying to ask you out, and it pisses her off.

"No, means you're lame and i'm not" She huffs out, turning her back so she was leaning against the shelves. You sigh, standing on your toes to get one of your books on the higher shelves, huffing softly to yourself in concentration.

"I...yes thats nice Ellie...if you're not going to buy anything, you can leave" You sigh out, still struggling to reach the highest shelf. You were too focused on restocking your books, and frankly you had no time for Ellie and her games. It was too fucking hot, you were very fucking tired, and she was just so...so..

So fucking mean.

Your words make Ellie seethe, because you've never asked her to leave.

And she's scoffing, rolling her eyes as she finally pushes herself off the shelf, snatching the book from your hand and settling it on the shelf without any struggling from her end. "Get a fucking step ladder next time, princess" She spits, and her tone makes you flinch a bit.

You watch her as she storms out, and for a moment you think you might have been too mean for saying what you did. You truly didn't mean it, not in the way that she might have thought anyway. You were just...frustrated, and Ellie made you feel even more frustrated...

But then you're thinking about how rude Ellie is to you all the time, so cocky and smug. Bragging to you about the parties she attends in the city, or the amount of girls that are dangling off her arm whenever she's there, and she tells you that you could never be like that, you could never get out the way she does because you're just a boring little librarian who's only friends are the baker next door and the couple who owns the pet store a few blocks down.

Ellie is fucking mean, and you hate that you're blaming yourself for finally stand up to her...sort of.

｡:°ஐ ʚĭɞ

The end of the day comes sooner than you expected.

Mainly because all you can think about is Ellie, and it's distracting you from the heat. No one else comes in for the rest of the day, only a few of your regulars to drop off some books they had finished and wanted to donate to you. Other than that, it was just you and the soft music that played out of your old little radio.

You close up an hour early, figuring that there was no use in staying open late. More times than not, people wouldn't be making an emergency late night run to the little book store in town.

You frown softly as you turn off all the lights, and flip the little sign on your door to the side that says 'sorry! come back tomorrow!'. You couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach, the strange weight that you had been carrying ever since Ellie had left earlier in the day.

She didn't even say anything that was out of the ordinary for her, she was always witty and rude. It was just...she seemed so...hurt, when you told her to leave. You then realized that it was something you had never done, to her or anybody that set foot in your shop.

Even though you shouldn't, it made you want to apologize.

You pulled your bag further up on your shoulder, deep in thought as you only hoped she would return the next morning. You were already replaying the words in your head that you would say, trying your best to make amends with the girl that would never once apologize for all of the mean things she said to you.

You don't even notice her sitting on the bench thats set right outside of your shop.

Her fists are shoved in her pockets, and her knee is bouncing wildly as she waits for you. She had been waiting for quite some time, knowing that you would have to close up shop eventually.

When she does hear the little bell on your door ring, she's up on her feet in seconds, making her way towards you.

"Hey..um...you mind if I walk you home?" She asks, and you're blinking up at her almost in shock because you're positive you've never heard Ellie use such a gentle tone with you before.

You even go as far as to look around you, just to make sure she's speaking to you and not someone nearby. When you confirm that she is in fact speaking to you, you give her a small nod, and you both begin to walk into the direction of your house in silence.

She feels awkward, and stupid, and she regrets the way she's been tormenting you for god knows how long, and she finally has the chance to be civil with you and she isn't saying anything.

Because she's an idiot.

You break the silence first.

With a small clearing of your throat, you're tugging the strap of your bag gently, eyes glued to your shoes as you walk. "Um..do you live around here?" Your voice is soft, and Ellie feels like she wants to kick herself for being so rude to someone so fucking sweet.

"No, no. I live on the other side of town." She doesn't even fully finish her sentence and you're already stopping in your tracks, shaking your head quickly. "Oh no..you dont need to walk me all the way there then..I'd hate to make you walk across town in the dark."

Ellie stares at you in disbelief, because its already dark, and you'd be walking alone, and she is quite literally your bully, but yet you're still worrying about her walking home on her own, sacrificing your safety and comfort so that she doesn't have to make her way back,

She chuckles softly before she shakes her head, placing her hand on the small of your back as she urges you to continue walking on. "No fuckin' way, you're not getting rid of me that easily" She hums, and her words make you giggle, the air between the two of you already feeling less tense.

She sighs out softly, her hand dropping from your back before she speaks again. "Look I...I waited for you so I could apologize...its not cool the way I treat you.." She mumbled, almost sounding ashamed of herself for even being in this position to begin with.

You hum softly, staring down at the ground once again as you nod at her words. "Didn’t expect to hear those words from you, Ellie…” you mumble out, and it makes Ellie feel like shit.

She groans “I can be nice too you know..” and it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than she’s trying to convince you. You giggle softly as you look up at her, the warm summer breeze blowing her pretty hair back, brown fringe sweeping across her face before you speak.

“Oh really? I’ve yet to see that” you hum, and it doesn’t have any bite to it, and it isn’t harsh. It’s simply the truth. You truly have never experienced any sort of nice behavior come from Ellie that wasn’t used as a way to lure you into another one of her stupid jokes or pranks.

Ellie sighs, because she knows you’re right, and she’s annoyed at herself for it. She opens her mouth to speak, but you’re already in front of your house, and of course your house is just as fucking cute as you are.

It makes Ellie want to scream at herself.

She sucks in a harsh breath as you both stand outside your place, and she asking before she can even stop herself.

“Can I come in?”

｡:°ஐ ʚĭɞ

Ellie is sat at your little kitchen table while you get her something to drink. She’s taking in the little trinkets in your home, and it looks like a cozier version of your book store, she wasn’t even sure if it could get any cozier than that in all honesty.

But it does, because it’s bright and colorful and it smells like you, and Ellie finds that she doesn’t even want to leave.

You return with a talk pitcher of fresh lemonade that you had made yourself the day before, knowing the weeks weather would be brutal and you’d need it for when you got home. You placed two glasses on the table and a pitcher before you poured some out for her.

“It’s too hot out for tea…I hope this is fine” you gave her a gentle smile before you sat down across from her.

It’s moments like this where Ellie doesn’t think you’re even real. As she watches you move from the kitchen to the table in your little sundress, pitcher of lemonade in hand, she realizes how badly she wants you. She’s always known that she’s wanted you…but it’s practically screaming at her as she sits there in your home.

The two of you talk for a bit, and she finds that it’s the first time she’s actually talking to you. Getting to know you, asking you about your store, and it’s the same for you. You’re able to ask Ellie things you were too scared to ask her in the beginning.

Ellie realizes her little crush for you is so much bigger than she thought it was in the beginning.

Soon enough, you’re both moving to the couch. The cool breeze that was blowing in through your window made you look like a dream to Ellie, and she was sure that she was staring like a dazed out idiot, but you seemed so comfortable around her, and Ellie had realized that she’s never actually seen you this way before.

Not around her at least.

You hum softly once your words die down, looking over at the large old clock on your wall. It was already so late, and you knew for a fact if you sat there any longer, that you’d be able to sit with her for hours and just talk.

“It’s already so late…I should probably start heading to bed” you sigh out, and Ellie can tell that you’re feeling tired. She nods quickly, standing up and grabbing both of your glasses and taking them to your sink. The gesture makes you giggle softly.

You pat down your dress before you walk her towards your front door.

As she walks out and turns around so that she’s facing you, you think there’s an angel at your door. Because the moon is shining down on her pretty face, and she’s staring down at you with those big green eyes, and you feel like she’s walked out of a dream of yours.

Your staring is how you end up in Ellie’s lap on your couch.

Because she knows that look, she’s seen it so many times before from other girls that have wanted her. But she feels like she’s dreaming because you’re looking at her that way, so she couldn’t help herself from leaning forward, wrapping her arms around your waist and pressing a needy kiss to your lips.

She takes advantage of the way you gasp into her mouth, pushing her tongue into yours as she’s already walking you backwards towards your couch, kicking your front door closed.

You’re a mess on top of her, straddling her lap, her hands pushing up her dress and squeezing the plush skin of your thighs.

You moan softly into her mouth, feeling like the first kiss from her made you want so much more. Your hands are tugging at her hair, pulling her closer to you and keeping her closer to you. “Ellie….” You moan out.

Ellie breaks the kiss, looking up at you with blown out pupils as she nods, just as breathless as you are. “What is it baby? Tell me what you need?” She sighs softly, giving your thighs a soft squeeze.

And you’re whining because you don’t even know what you need, you’re just moaning, and needy, and your skin feels like it’s on fucking fire because you haven’t felt want and lust like this in a long fucking time. So you begin to grind your hips down on her lap, moaning out as you arch your back at the feeling.

“Mmm….fuuuuck…just…need you Ellie…wanna feel you…please” you whine, and Ellie is staring up at you like you’re a fucking goddess because she’s only ever dreamt about you like this, on her lap moaning for her.

The feeling of you rocking your hips back and forth on her lap is making her moan with you, because your thigh is slotted right between her legs, and your movements are bringing her just the right amount of friction that she needs from you.

She grips your hips harder, forcing you to grind harder down on her lap. She let her head fall back against the couch, a soft hiss leaving her lips followed by a long, drawn out moan.

“Fuuuuck…that’s it baby, grind that pretty lil cunt on me…fuck you feel so good….” She leans forward, pulling your dress down so your tits pop out for her, and her lips are latching onto your nipple in an instant. The feeling of her warm mouth has your head spinning, and you’re positive there’s a wet spot on her jeans.

From you and from her.

You gasp softly as you stare down at her attacking your nipples with her mouth, biting and sucking, your hands still laced in her hair as you go faster.

“F-fuck! Ah…mmm…Ellie I’m…oh my god!…I’m gonna fucking cuuummm”

Ellie is nodding against you, her lips coming off of your nipple with a pop before she’s staring up at you again, strong hands guiding your hips to go faster, her own pussy grinding against your thigh as she moans loudly.

“That’s it princess, fuck…cum with me, be a good girl and fucking cum with me..” she groans out, and you truly don’t need to be told twice.

Because between her words and her moans, you’re throwing your head back and your hips stifle as you cum hard against her. She’s pressing her face into your chest, breathing hard as her orgasm washes over her as well.

The two of you sit there for a moment, the only noises in the room being the sounds of your breathing and the occasional kisses she’d press to your chest.

This time, Ellie breaks the silence first.

She sighs softly, her arms sliding up to grip your middle as she pulls you closer to her body, now pressing kisses to your neck as she hums.

“I wanna take you out…on a real date” she hums softly, and it makes you giggle. She smirks softly against your skin before she pulls back a bit, staring up at you with raised eyebrows. “You laughin’ at me?” She questions, and you smile softly as you give her a nod, brushing her hair out of her face.

“It’s a little late for asking me out on a date, don’t you think?” You hum, and she groans softly as her eyes flutter shut. She’s embarrassed because you’re right, you just made her cum on your thigh and she was choosing now of all times to ask you out.

“Better late then never? I mean…I know it’s really fucking backwards on my end but I just…I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask you out for a really long time..and I get it if you wouldn’t want to go out with someone who’s only been rude to you but I just really fucking like you and-“ you cut her off with your lips pressing against hers.

Ellie furrows her eyebrows, but still melts into the kiss nonetheless. She stares at you with a confused expression, because you’re giving her that sweet smile with pretty sleepy eyes and she feels like she’s being pranked or something.

“You’re cute when you ramble…” you hum softly, and it makes her cheeks go red. You giggle softly before you nod, pressing another gentle kiss to the corner of her lips.

“I’ll let you take me out on a date if you spend the night” you hum, and her eyes are nearly bulging out of her head because she couldn’t believe that someone as sweet as you is asking her to stay the next.

She nods eagerly, turning her head so she catches your lips against hers, making you giggle.

You spend the rest of the night in each others arms after the nicest shower Ellie has ever had, getting to know each other and making up for lost time. And as crazy as it may sound to you…

You are so fucking happy that Ellie was so shit at flirting.

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