#A very obviously cursed couch

[sunfloweraroace]

spent a good half an hour looking through facebook market place and sending screenshots back and forth with a friend of mine tonight and we found insane things on there

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 2. Rules

Masterlist

Summary: Simon lays the ground rules and shows you around the house.

Warnings: Simon's email etiquette, very mild cursing, beginnings of obsessive behavior.

Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.

here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.

Simon.

You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.

Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!

Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?

See you soon!

You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.

So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.

Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.

she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.

Simon.

You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.

You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.

Understood. Thanks again!

"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.

You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.

You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?

"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."

You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.

"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."

You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"

Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"

"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.

He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."

You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"

Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.

He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.

But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.

"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."

"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."

He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...

He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.

You faltered. "Sorry...?"

"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"

You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.

"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.

He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.

"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.

"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.

"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"

He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."

Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.

"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.

Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.

He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.

But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?

He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-

Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.

Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."

He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.

He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.

Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.

Next ->

Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae

[rainrot4me]

Three’s A Crowd

Summary: Video games can be emotionally intense, especially when you’re butting heads with the two idiots yelling at each other. So when Jeff and Ben decide to break their tie in another way, you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time: Right in the middle.

Characters: Ben Drowned x Female Reader x Jeff the Killer

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Using a controller as a vibrator, threesome, fingering, toxic, Ben pressures you lowkey, embarrassment, power struggle, vaginal, creampie, cum mixing, competition, eating out, Jeff and Ben flirt, dub-con, pining, suppressed emotions, jealousy, jealousy sex, angry sex, insults, overstimulation

Words: 5.3k

In your opinion, video games sucked.

Correction: The games themselves didn’t suck. The way they made the residents of the mansion act, sucked. 

It was so unruly. Screaming, throwing the controllers, weapons being whipped out at a poorly timed insult, they had no restraint. Everyone was pretty bad, yourself included, but Jeff and Ben were worst of all. The two idiots didn’t have respect for a single thing in their lives, and that principle carried over now as you were hunched between them on the shabby couch in the living room. 

It was well into the night, and most of the creeps were either asleep or out on a mission for Slender, so the boys ruled they could be as reckless as they wanted without consequence. Jeff had hauled you along too, ripping you from your comfortable bed to act as a witness to whoever won the match of Mario Kart. However, six rounds later, the two of them were leaning forward heavily and cursing at every bad move. Elbows perched on knees as the bright glow from the TV cast a haze over the room, your phone distracting you as they shoved and bumped into your curled-up body. “One more shell and I’m punching you.” Ben grit, Jeff laughed.

Ben was playing as Link, obviously, but Jeff was heavily set on playing as Rosalina because she’s “emo and fuckin’ hot”. You thought it was crude, but as the little princess chucked another blue turtle shell as Link, Jeff secured his win, tying the boys up. Three each, no clear winner and the exhaustion was starting to set in as you gazed at the bright TV. “Aw, sucks. Guess we’ll never know.” You chime, tugging yourself off of the couch and beginning to make your way up to your room and away from the already obnoxious arguing that followed. A calloused hand was quick to drag you back, hauling your ass back into the cushion you had been in for hours. 

“Nope. All or nothin’.” Jeff smiled, settling back into the armrest of the couch as Ben loaded another round, the loud whistles and bells chiming obnoxiously as they gripped their controllers. You groaned, shrugging back into the crook of the cushions as the boys pressed close to you, occasionally slapping at each other’s thighs and elbowing you a little too hard as they sped through obstacles. It was irritating, you becoming agitated every time one of their curses rang a little too loud in your ear. Ben was winning, sending Jeff into an utter panic and standing up, knocking you on the side of the head as he threw his elbows out in an attempt to steer clear of the giant tar pit in front of him. That did it for you.

“Okay. Fuck this.” You stood up, shoving Jeff to the side as you grabbed the remote to the TV and powered it off, their yells following as the bright light faded. “What the fuck?!” Ben snapped, throwing his hands in the air and standing next to Jeff now, who looked equally as shocked. 

“You’ve done nothing but yell in my ear all night! Either find some other way to settle your score, or just get over yourselves!” You grit, slamming the remote back down and aiming to walk towards the stairs, shoving your phone into your pocket as you stomp off. Ben laughed, your phone becoming suddenly very hot in your pocket and making you hiss, grabbing it and throwing it down onto the floor. Jeff was cackling, Ben smiling as you scowled at him, his dark eyes bright against the re-appearing glow of the TV as it suddenly switched back on. “Fucker.” You growled. They both just chuckled, grabbing their controllers again and restarting the game where it left off. “Now, either come sit down, or your phone explodes next.” The elf chitted, patting the spot on the sofa next to him teasingly.

Swearing, you sat back down, shoving your phone onto the coffee table in front of you and begrudgingly refocusing on the bright game, Jeff now taking the lead. The race was quick, Ben coming out on top in the end and sending the pale killer to call for another round, to which you responded with a groan. “Sit tight, gonna grab a drink.” The dark-headed man huffed, tossing the controller onto your lap and heading off into the kitchen, the little device buzzing and lighting up every time Ben clicked on his own. It was a weird sensation, the vibrations tickling your skin as you watched the screen, Ben focused on readying a match again. “This thing vibrates?” You laughed, pushing around the joysticks and smiling when the device buzzed deep as the car engines on the screen revved. Ben smiled, teasingly nudging your arm as he sat back into the cushion, resting his on controller on his leg. “Yeah, not as good as yours though.” He teasingly glared.

You cringed, Ben’s perverted little mouth taking over as he snickered, your face growing hot. “Not funny.” You hissed, shoving the controller off of your lap and onto Jeff’s empty seat, the little buzzing seeming a lot less cute now. The room was awkward now, at least on your end, but Ben just kept laughing, even as Jeff reemerged from the kitchen and plopped back down onto the sofa, giving you both a questioning look before readjusting as you shook your head. 

The boys started up again, you now keenly aware of just how much they were touching you. Thighs pressed side by side, shoulders nudging, Ben’s hands moving the controller down just a little too close to your scrunched-up legs as he raced; his comment had made you very agitated, your mind swirling the comment every time you heard the deep vibration of the little devices. Ben noticed, or at least, pretended like he wasn’t planning it all along. The elf had used his comment wisely, pushing you just the right amount into uncomfortable just to get your blood flowing, but not pushing you away. Truth was, he knew it was personal, knew all too well from the small hum of your vibrator through his walls, your little huffs and whines pushing through the wood and right into his pointed ears. He liked those nights, the nights where he could secretly send his influence and make the vibrator speed up suddenly, the hum becoming louder as your little voice followed, forcing you into an orgasm that he secretly caused. It was his favorite thing, pushing you, unknowingly under his whim. But now, he had the chance to actually pursue it, pursue you. 

Jeff was your friend, he was the whole reason you were down here. He had nonchalantly pleaded with you to be their little witness and sit in on the game, and Ben knew if he wanted to get to you, you’d need Jeff there to accompany the ride. You two weren’t lovers, but Ben accepted the fact that if he wanted to make his fantasies a reality, he was going to have to share. If only for tonight. This rang true even as he subtly pressed his thigh closer against yours, but you instinctually slid your legs closer to Jeff, your weight slowly shifting onto his shoulder as he shifted with you. Ben side-eyed hard, quietly nagging himself as he lost track of what he was doing and slipped off the map. Jeff howled, playfully slapping your leg and teasing the elf about paying attention. But he was done with this game, his focus had left that screen and was now locked onto you, along with his subtle jealousy that struck as you nestled against Jeff even further.

“You get any closer to him you’ll be sitting on his dick.” Ben mocked, flicking the game off with a little twitch of his finger and letting the bright TV glow illuminate your already flushed face. You gawked at him, brows furrowed as your face grew hot, looking at Jeff as he just laughed. “What the fuck, man?” The killer half laughed half cringed, glancing at you but tossing the controller onto the coffee table to avoid the awkwardness of being pressed against you now. You read it, shifting off of him as Ben moved to face you, crossing his arms with a sour look. “No, go ahead [Y/N], show Jeff how bad you want it. Y’know, since apparently I’m not funny anymore.” He grilled, nudging you closer to Jeff until you literally had to push your hands against his chest to stop the elf from climbing on top of you. Jeff didn’t think it was funny anymore either, shoving Ben’s shoulder and telling him to chill out as he pressed further, grabbing the controller off of the couch and shoving your back down against the killer’s legs awkwardly. “I’ll just do it myself then.” 

Ben was shoving himself between your legs now, pressing your thighs open and forcing his hands between as Jeff tried to adjust, trying to pull you up but being forced behind you as the elf pushed down. “Ben. What the hell are you doing?” He was blushing, despite his aggressive gaze now the killer was stunned, and Ben could see it. His hands pushed deeper, a twitch of his eyebrow all it took to send the little device in his hand roaring, a deep rumbling sounding as he pushed it closer to your clothed cunt. You panicked, reaching down to stop Ben but the controller was already whirring against your shorts, sending your back arching off of Jeff’s legs and the blonde smiling wickedly. “May not be fun, but you sure do seem to enjoy yourself a lot because of me.” 

“Wha-“ You gasped, clawing back into Jeff’s jeans as he watched, unable to help as his face grew hot, eyes flickering across the scene. You tried to sit up, but Jeff’s hands were on you now, wrapping under your arms and hauling you between his legs, letting Ben work the controller’s handle against your clothed clit as his hands rubbed your body. This was embarrassing, you squirming and writhing against the feeling of the device harshly vibrating against you, the power a direct reflection of Ben’s emotions. It was hard and rough, your gasps and writhing groans making Ben all the more excited as he looked up at Jeff, his expression conflicted between discomforted and getting terribly turned on. “Go on, Jeffrey. Get on with it or leave, either way, I’m making her cum.” You hissed, jerking as the controller handle nudged hard onto your clit, reaching to grab Jeff’s arms that were wrapped around you, clawing into them for some relief.

The killer was conflicted, breathing heavily above you as he watched you come apart, hips jerking with every shove Ben gave of the device. “She said we should break our tie some other way. I say we just found the perfect solution.” The elf smirked. Jeff didn’t particularly know what he was doing, but Ben’s glare and your desperate eyes burning into the killer clicked something, all of his embarrassment washing out as he slid his hands up your shirt, a satisfied chuckle ringing from the blond. “Atta boy.” You were shifting, trying to pry Jeff's hands off as he tugged up your shirt over your bra, body tense as you felt Ben’s fingers slip under your shorts, too. “Guys- Wait-” But they weren't listening, didn’t care to anyway as they hauled your clothes off of your body, sharing hungry looks between the other as your bare skin felt hot and sticky against their rough hands. It was addicting.

Jeff had never particularly thought of you in that way, always seeing you as some stability that he could rely on, but never something he found he desired. You were pretty, beautiful even, but there was always this tension he couldn’t get past. He realized it now though, as he tugged your bra off of your tits and slid the fabric over your head, he knew that tension was just his buried frustration about you. He was never good with emotions anyway, especially his own. “Fuck…” He groaned as he palmed your flesh, your hard nipples satisfying to roll between the pads of his fingers. Goosebumps rose against your skin as your panties were pulled off of your ankles, and tossed aside as Ben reached for the controller again, the familiar buzzing desperately guiding you to shut your legs, but the elf’s hands were already prying them open. They were both chuckling, their hands palmed down hard all over your skin as Ben pressed the handle back to your clit, the bare contact sending your back shooting off of Jeff’s lap with a groan. The vibration was horrible now, squelching and rubbing shakily as your cunt ached, arousal building and clawing its way through. Ben’s eyes were locked on you, gauging your every reaction and slightly contorting the intensity of the device to tug cute little whines from your lips, his bulge growing annoying fast against you.

Jeff was too, his jeans becoming tight against your back as he pulled your nipples up, massaging your tits until you were clawing at his arms, whining for him to be easier. He wouldn’t, it just wasn’t his style, wasn’t what he craved. “Feel good, princess?” Ben hissed, nudging his hips under your thighs and letting his bulge rut against your bare ass, his sweatpants rough against your bare skin. Jeff groaned, rolling his eyes and he pulled you up, positioning under you and letting your back rest against his chest, his hips jerking his bulge against the small of your back. “Princess? Really?” He scoffed, reaching his hand to tug your chin to the side, giving him access to your neck and pecking at the hot skin. Ben glared, the aggression between the two shows in their actions as the controller upped its intensity, handle buzzing hard against your swollen clit, sending you sobbing. Jeff answered with a tight tug of your jaw, biting into the side of your neck just enough to make you panic. They were competing, trying to see who could better stake their claim. You cursed yourself mentally for letting yourself be their solution.

“Well, princess? Answer me, c’mon.” Ben smiled, ignoring the pale killer and letting his hands splay on your waist, your legs wrapped around his waist as he worked the controller in small motions, contorting your clit desperately. You felt like you couldn’t get a stable breath, let alone speak, but the boys listened expectantly, Jeff’s breathing hot against the crook of your neck as he licked against the welts he had created. “I think- Ah- I think I’m close-” You craned, moaning as Ben slid his opposite hand down, running his fingers through the slick between your folds, spreading your arousal against your inner thighs. You groaned as he nudged his fingers into your cunt, spreading the digits against your clenching entrance and pushing his knuckles deeper. You craned, spreading your thighs at the relief of his fingers pushing against your walls, giving good relief to the vibration of the controller still heavy on your throbbing clit. You moaned heartily, jaw hanging open as you threw your head back against Jeff’s shoulder, his fingers quick to press from your jaw and find their way into your lips, pinching at your tongue. 

Closing your eyes, you sucked on the digits, letting Ben work his fingers deep into your cunt and tug your arousal further, Jeff gasping as you slid your tongue desperately. They were both watching, lost in the way your face looked flushed and sweaty, your hair clinging to your face and tears pricking against your eyelids. They were groaning, rutting their clothed cocks against your body until your skin felt raw, arching into the way the controller pulsed against you now, jutting your hips. Popping Jeff’s fingers out of your mouth, you cried out, cunt clenching and throbbing as Ben twisted his knuckles up into the gumminess of your walls. “Oh God- ‘Mm cummin- Ben-” You babbled, the boys adjusting quickly under you and prodding and pulling however they could, aiming to see who could nudge you over that last edge. Jeff’s teeth locked against the side of your jaw, his grunts loud in your ear as he twisted your nipples, hauling your orgasm to come crashing into you. “There you go babygirl, cum on his fingers,” Jeff grunted, licking your cheek as the deep red spot grew against your skin, your hands clasping against his arms as he hugged them around you. You were rolling your hips, chasing Ben’s fingers as he slowly pumped them out of you, gathering your slick and spreading it across your sensitive folds, eyes heavy on you. The controller’s rumbling died out, the handle glistening with your arousal and tossed to the side, the elf’s hands hooking around your waist and hauling you closer on his hips. “Good job, princess…” 

Ben leaned forward, steadying his weight on top of you as he pressed a kiss against your swollen lips, his tongue pushing itself into your mouth. You whined, sucking on his tongue and panting against his skin as you kissed him sloppily, slobber spreading across your skin. Jeff grumbled, wrapping his arms tighter around your chest and nudging his head into the crook of your neck, kissing against your ear and licking stripes against your shoulder. Even as they were pleasing you, their focus was on each other, their hands pushing against the other’s shoulder or nudging their knees out of the way; it was possessive and mean, you trapped right in the middle. Jeff popped off your neck, shoving Ben’s face off of yours as the blond’s hand wrapped in the killer’s messy hair and tugged him away from you, their growls echoing above you as they glared. You were still dazed, cunt still throbbing from your orgasm as Jeff hauled you up, pushing his back against the couch and setting you onto his lap, right on top of his bulge. “My turn.” He grit, a low rumble in his chest as he forcefully knots your hips down onto the swell in his jeans, Ben fussing in his ear but moving in front of you all the same. 

Even through their arguing they worked together, Ben helping to tug your hips up as Jeff reached around to unclasp his belt, letting his cock fling out of his jeans and rest against your soppy cunt. You hissed, the pale killer shifting his hips to let his length spread between your folds, your previous orgasm spreading across his cock. “I’ll fuck ya like you deserve, babygirl. Not with some fuckin’ Nintendo controller.” Ben glared, kneeling between Jeff's legs and pressing close to your cunt, fingers nudging against your tired clit, hauling your body back to life. Jeff positioned, nudging his cock head against your entrance, but your hands flung down, pushing both of them away. “If you two can’t act right, you’re not gonna be doing anything. Jesus, you can’t even fuck without arguing.” You spoke between pants, glaring at the two of them as they sat stunned, looking at the other. “Fine.” Jeff grit, rolling his eyes as he hooked his hands under your knees again, hauling them back and up to spread your cunt wide. You hissed, leaning back against him as Ben repositioned, swiping your hands away and nudging his thumb back onto your clit. 

Jeff rested his chin on your shoulder, breathing in your scent as he gripped his cock, nudging the head back against your entrance, flicking against your wetness. You rolled your hips, trying to get him to press in but Ben’s fingers tugged your clit up, making your hips follow with a whine. Jeff grumbled, tugging your legs back further and eventually nudging his hips up to connect with your entrance, slowly pushing in as you stretched around him. “Oh- Oh, my-” You mewled, throwing your head back to rest against the killer’s shoulder, reaching forward to grip Ben’s shoulders for stability as he pressed in. The elf gleamed, letting his hands wrap around your thighs as he pressed forward, pressing his tongue against your clit. You whined, shock writhing as Jeff shifted his hips up, letting the head of his cock nudge deep inside of you and stretch your walls thin, his grunts strained against your shoulder. Ben lapped at your folds, sucking your clit generously as Jeff bottomed out, letting your cunt rest on his balls as he pulsed inside of you, your eyes fluttering shut at the fullness. “Get your fuckin’ tongue off my dick, elf.” The killer grit, cringing at the feeling of Ben’s warm tongue lapping at the base of his dick as he focused on soaking in the taste of your swollen clit. He chuckled, popping off of the swollen nub and replacing it with his thumb, rubbing small circles and looking into the other’s wide eyes. “Be nice, remember?” He teased, pressing his face back in and sucking on your clit, careless to Jeff’s curses every time his tongue passed over the salty taste of the killer’s cock nestled inside of you. 

Grunting, Jeff got over it, hauling your legs higher and pulling them further apart, sighing at the stretch of your walls around him as you throbbed. He twisted his hips up, pressing his feet into the hardwood floor and pushing his cock up into your cunt, thrusting slowly as Ben worked your clit. “Shit…” He sighed, rolling his hips back down before pulsing back up. You moaned deep, hands messing up into Ben’s hair and tugging him closer as he swiped his tongue through your folds, practically trying to push the muscle into your entrance as well. Jeff kissed your shoulder, whispering unheard words as the sound of squelching and slapping filled the room, your cunt soaked and crying with pleasure every time the cock inside you pushed against your walls. “Tastes so good, ohmygods-” Ben clenched, grunting as you tugged his face back against your cunt the moment he let off, pushing his tongue back against your folds. He smiled against you, pushing his tongue up into the leftover space of your soaked cunt along with Jeff’s cock, lapping up every ounce of arousal that spilt onto his chin, fingers pulling your wet lips apart. The killer whined a ragged noise as the pressure of your cunt grew, strangling his length as the tongue felt so nice against the underside of his cock. He dug his nails into the underside of your knees, turning his face to catch your lips with his own as you moaned, gasping into his mouth. The noises you made were so pretty, muffled so nicely against his tongue as he wrapped it with yours. 

It was all so messy. Spit running down Ben’s chin, Jeff panting and moaning into your mouth the harder he thrust, your whines sobbed between kisses. Everything was so overwhelming, your cunt being pushed and stretched further than you could really handle. “So tight, baby. Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me awful.” Jeff growled against your swollen lips, biting the plump flesh and tugging his cock out all the way to the head just to thrust right back up again. Ben hummed again your cunt, swallowing you and relishing in the taste, begging for more as Jeff’s cock pushed more out, soaking his tongue. “Hurry up and cum, Jeffrey… My turn…” He mumbled against your puffy lips clenching around his lips so nicely, flicking his tongue against your clit again to force you into an orgasm. His cock hurt against his boxers, pushing desperately to get inside of you as he watched Jeff’s schlick in and out raggedly, glossy with your wetness. He reached down, undoing his sweatpant strings and pushing the waistband below his balls, quickly fisting his cock and jerking, precum dribbling down the length. “Fuck off…” Jeff grit, groaning as your entrance pulsed around him when he angled his hips forward. Ben rolled his eyes, standing up and pushing between your legs, cock in hand as he nudges himself down. He couldn’t wait any longer. 

Pressing a knee into the space between Jeff’s spread legs, Ben pushes the head of his cock between your spread folds, every bounce of your hips down onto Jeff’s cock forcing the blond’s cockhead to nudge against your clit, making you whine. Ben cursed, your slick gliding across the underside of his length and rubbing him as he reached to grip your tits, massaging the mounds as Jeff glared. 

The stimulation was too much, cunt overwhelmed as Jeff thrust harder, trying desperately to prove you could cum without the elf’s help. He let go of your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist and digging his face into your neck, biting down. You cried, hands pressed against his arms and clawing at his skin, legs curling around Ben’s waist as you sobbed, cunt aching and all too sensitive. Skin slapped loudly, juices squelching, and messy slobber hanging on your lips, babbling. You swelled, cockhead still against your clit and nudging you to an orgasm, rolling your eyes back as Jeff clenched his teeth into your skin, groaning his own. He didn’t slow down though, hips pulsing just as fast as he spilt into you, syrupy walls clenching tightly around the girth and milking him, pulsing with every twitch inside. “Jesus…” Ben gasped, fisting his cock as he watched your face flush, heavy eyes zoning out as you felt light, rolling your hips lazily to ride out your orgasm. “Fuck babygirl… What the fuck…” He groaned, lapping at the swollen skin that was forming from his bite, kissing your shoulder until he was focused enough to slip his soaked cock out of your cunt. 

Ben was quick to move, desperately tugging you up and twisting you around, knowing you didn’t have good enough strength to sit up anymore. Panting and still hazed, you dug your knees into the couch, straddling Jeff as you pressed your chest against his, hiding your face into his shoulder. Ben nudged behind you, tugging your hips back to meet his and groping at your ass, pulling the skin apart to see your soaked cunt. “Just one more, yeah princess?” Ben huffed, fisting his cock lazily as he pressed the tip between your folds, the warmth already tugging him closer. You sobbed, gripping Jeff’s shoulders and tugging at his hoodie as you nodded, arching gently as Ben slipped his head in.

Your cunt was so warm, so goopy and swollen from your orgasm, but constricting around Ben’s cock just right. Jeff’s cum threatened to leak out, dropping down but Ben caught it with his head, pushing it back into your entrance with a smile. He growled, his left hand holding his hoodie up to his chest while his right gripped onto your hip, nails digging in. Jeff reached around, wrapping his around your back as he kissed your cheek, watching closely as Ben sunk in. “Easy, you fuckin’ pixel bitch,” Jeff warned, reaching down to grip your ass, tugging the mounds in his rough hands as the blond scoffed. “She can take it.” He snapped his hips.

Now, Ben wasn’t as large as Jeff, but he knew how to sway his thrusts just right to make you fall apart. Placing a hand on the small of your back, he pushed down, forcing you to arch as he thrust up into your soppy walls, your cries loud and ragged against Jeff’s shoulder. “Plea- Please- Jesus-” You cried, reaching your hands to grip into Jeff’s messy hair, each snap of Ben’s hips jolting you forward with a slap. Jeff’s arms tensed around you, groaning as he soaked up your cries, cock fluttering to life again underneath. You leaned back, babbling something unheard as you connected your lips with Jeff’s moaning desperately into his mouth, Ben gritting as he snapped upwards into your walls. Reaching forward, the blond tangled his fist into the back of your hair, gripping tight and tugging a chunk back, snapping your head back as you cried. 

The elf was overwhelmed, a whining and grunting mess as his hips jolted, slapping loudly into yours as he tugged your hair. He leaned forward, forcing your face to turn as he pecked at your wet lips, brows knit as he continued his pace. Ben was shaking, lost in the warmth and wetness as he slammed in without any sense of coordination, you whimpering against his lips. Jeff growled, gripping your jaw and forcing you back to his lips, a little desperate game of possession starting up. Every few thrusts, the lips you were on would change, the two passing you between them as Jeff snaked a hand along your stomach, reaching to rub at your clit as he licked at your lips. You whined, hips jerking to meet the sensation as Ben tugged your head back to his, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You felt dizzy, position changing so often that you felt like you were spinning as your jaw was dragged back to another pair of lips. 

Fed up, you reached behind you, dragging Ben’s head closer as Jeff invaded your mouth, pressing the blond’s lips against yours as well. They both grunted, both tongues slipping into your mouth and fighting for more space, Ben’s thrusts becoming shallow and lazy as he tugged at your swollen lips. Slobber ran and mixed, whines and pants flowing into each other’s mouths as they both shared you, both dragged you onto another orgasm as Jeff’s fingers pinched your clit, Ben’s cock shoving itself deeper when he tugged your hair hard enough to make you cry. 

The boys were groaning, moaning against your lips as you came, drinking in your sounds as Ben bottomed out, letting you drag him along as well. Ben let off, his head dropping down against your shoulder as he came deep into your cunt, mixing his cum with Jeff’s, his fists gripping your hips tight and tugging you back further onto him. You pawed at Jeff’s chest, his muscles heaving with every breath as he held you, watching with wide eyes as you gasped through your orgasm, jaw hanging slack and eyes rolling back gently. “So good, babygirl. Look so good like this.” He smiled, gazing at Ben whose face was clenched tight, spilling what was left of his seed and tugging out, watching as your red lips swelled around his head. All of you were sweaty and hot, the TV glow reflecting bright against your red faces and hair clinging to your skin. Pants and grunts followed as you all plopped onto the couch, Jeff holding you as Ben lay on the opposite end, admiring your drenched cunt slowly leaking the mixed cum. 

Ben felt so content, so good watching you slowly drift in Jeff’s arms, the killer glancing at him and nodding his head, beckoning for him to come closer. “You look good too. I guess.” Jeff huffed as Ben crawled over, the elf laughing as he awkwardly slid under you, your body crammed between the two as they held you. “So, princess. Who’s the winner?” Ben smiled against your ear, smirking at Jeff as you groaned, glancing through heavy eyes.

“Couldn’t decide. Might need a couple more tries to figure it out.” You mumbled quietly against Jeff’s shoulder, closing your eyes and not thinking anything of the comment as your tired body took over. The boys, however, smiled at each other, rummaging around and positioning you snugly between them. “Good idea.” Jeff smiled, gripping under your knees and pushing them apart, each thigh spread over either boy’s waist. You stirred again, eyes shooting open as Jeff reached around to shove his fingers between your folds, pressing them inside achingly quickly. Ben followed, nudging his face into your neck and kissing the skin as his hands gripped your tits, massaging your arousal back to life. Whining, you gave in, reaching around to grip both of their heads closer to yours as you moaned, their fingers ravaging. 

Maybe you could teach them to share, maybe even then you could teach them to be nice…

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[gyusrose]

➵ burning desire -> s.jy

⚠︎ smut (mdni)

✎ pervert!jake x innocent reader, praising, dirty talk, bj, oblivious reader, masturbation, corruption kink, cursing.

summary: you never thought that the person you would ask to take your virginity would be your roommate’s best friend.

wc: 2.5k

(jake x fem.reader)

“oh jake’s coming over by the way.” sunghoon, your roommate/ child hood friend said as he walked into the living room to where you were.

you weren’t surprised at this point. jake should just move in at this point from how much he comes over. even though he comes pretty much everyday, you’re still kinda awkward with him. you’ve probably had a total of three full conversations with him. sunghoon had many other friends yet jake is the only one who would come over.

“i’ll go get some groceries, since the fridge looks so sad, if he comes before me just tell him i’ll be back.” sunghoon said before grabbing his keys and leaving the loft.

great. it’s gonna be him and you alone. can you get any luckier ?

not even ten minutes passed after sunghoon left when you heard your doorbell echo throughout the house. knowing who it was, you took a deep sigh and opened the front door, revealing a messily-haired jake. he had on an oversized zip-up jacket with some baggy jeans. you’d never admit this out loud but he was very attractive. maybe that’s the reason you can’t seem to talk with him, you’ll just get too nervous around him.

jake smiled at your presence. he saw the absence of sunghoon’s car and was more than thrilled to be with you all alone.

truth be told, jake was actually obsessed with you. from the way you act, tell jokes, to the way you smell. he never missed an opportunity to be close to you. you were very oblivious to this. not noticing how some of your panties would go missing whenever he came over, or how he would blatantly stare at your ass anytime you bent down or just turned around in general. jake loved that. he wanted to ruin you.

you looked adorable today, with your skimpy baby blue shorts that barely covered your ass and a simple white tank top, ‘unfortunately with a bra on’ jake thought.

sunghoon’s better than him, cus’ he would’ve fucked you the moment you moved in.

“sunghoon went to get some groceries, he’ll be back shortly, come in.” you softly smiled, letting jake walk through the doorstep.

“how’s college going?” he asked you, sitting down on the brown couch.

“it’s going alright, just a lot of work.” you awkwardly giggled.

“have you gone to the parties?”

“erm..not really, i don’t really like that environment anyways. i prefer staying in my room.” you were now sitting on the sofa across from him.

that’s another thing jake loved about you. you were so well-behaved. from what he knows, because sunghoon has told him, you’ve never gotten wasted or anything, you were that type of girl, you’re always on top of your schoolwork, leading you to be a valedictorian in high school. you were probably even still a virgin.

“ i’ll be right back, i need to go take a quick shower.”

jake, being who he is, obviously took this opportunity for himself. sneakily opening your bathroom door an inch, enough to see you in it. although the fog stained on the glass shower didn’t let him see your bare body, the image was exotic. he could see your hands wander all across your wet body. the fact that he couldn’t see all of you turned him in even more.

it didn’t take long for him to coming your bedroom (which he knows like the back of his hand) and engulf himself into the comfort of your bed. gosh he loved your scent so fucking much. he knew he didn’t have much time so he lowered his jeans along with his boxers and wrapped his hand around his cock.

his breath got louder along with his moans, hoping you wouldn’t hear him. he accelerated his hand motion, closing his eyes imagining you. pictures of you in the shower showing in his mind, wanting to fuck you against that wet wall. it didn’t take long for his cum to spurt out over his bare stomach along with his hand.

he quickly got dressed properly and wiped his hands, trying to leave your room as soon as possible, not before going into your cabinet where you keep your panties, grabbing a new pair since the ones he had at home were used and dirty from his juices. he shoved it in his pocket trying to run out, but before he knew it he heard the door click open.

naturally his brain got into fight or flight, looking for the nearest place to hide in, running to your closet.

you walked into your room, nothing but a towel wrapped around your wet body. jake didn’t fully close the closet door, this allowed him to see you. he hoped you wouldn’t come into the closet, knowing how embarrassing and overall weird it would be to find your friend’s friend in your bathroom hiding.

jake’s prayers were answered as you already had the clothes you were going to put on neatly folded on top of your nightstand. while grabbing your clothes, you noticed how awfully disorganized your bed was. did you leave it like this ? almost like a figure was there.

you brushed it off and got to changing. you let go of your towel letting it drop to the floor. jake was in heaven. his breath hitched, almost gasping out loud at what he was seeing. he put a hand over his mouth to get himself caught. you were perfect.

you clipped a bra around your perfectly sat tits, just like jake imagined them, fuck he could feel himself getting hard again. he’s about to burst out the door and have you bouncing on his dick.

you then opened your the drawer were you would keep all your panties and grabbed a pair, you’ve noticed how you haven’t seen some of your panties in a long time. like the one with the pink bows? gone. the baby blue ones? gone. the dark red ones? gone. and it’s always your favourites too.

you quickly put it on, remembering that jake is downstairs and you don’t want him to be alone for long and become bored.

jake was enjoying the show. you don’t know you’re being watched yet the way you’re putting in your clothes is so seductive. or maybe jake’s just horny.

you soon finish and grab the towel to put it back into the bathroom, leaving your room.

jake knew this was his only chance and sprinted to the living room. trying to not make noise as well. in the span of fifteen seconds he was downstairs, seated. exactly ten seconds later, he heard a front door opening revealing sunghoon. he always gets away with it

>>

“ _______ are you going to live like this for the rest of your life? “ your friend, giselle, said. she would not die before she gets you to attend those goofy frat parties.

“i’m happy like this gis, i don’t want to be around sweaty drunk people, sorry.” as much as you loved giselle, the two of you were the complete opposite.

“just for like an hour or so, so you can live it. you’ll regret not having fun once you grow old!”

although you did not want to go an inch, you give a thought to what she said. she could be right. you’ll feel out of place for sure, but maybe it’s not as bad as you think?

“i guesssssss….” you quietly said but giselle heard you loud and clear, jumping in excitement as if she just won the lottery.

“alright alright let’s calm down.”

“you pulling up to yeonjun’s party tonight?” sunghoon asked jake while they played on the gaming console.

“erm i’m not sure, I’ve got schoolwork to do.”

“jake sim missing a party? that’s some i thought ill never hear.” jake rolled his eyes at his comment.

“literally everyone is going though, even _______.”

jake’s mind lit up. you were going? what in the world made you go? suddenly jake’s dying to go too.

“she is? i thought she hated those things..”

“i thought so too, but supposedly her friend begged her to go and she wants to try it out.”

of course giselle was behind this. jake knew the two of you were inseparable, and she wasn’t the best influence either.

“i’ll see if i go..” jake said before shifting the conversation to another topic.

>>

“isn’t this too much?” you asked looking at yourself in the mirror. the dress, to anyone else, looked completely normal for a party, yet for you, it was way too open and revealing, specially in the chest area. ( it’s just a v-neck)

“you think this is too much? please. it’s not even short short, besides your boobs look great.” you don’t get it. what makes them so great?

“alright let’s go now, before they finish all the booze.” giselle dragged you outside, getting into her car.

jake was starting to believe you simply weren’t coming. you wouldn’t. you’d hate it here.

his mind stopped talking when he saw you. that wasn’t you. who took over you? you looked very unlike yourself. a skimpy dress that barely covered your body. who the hell ? he could not get hard in the middle of a party surrounded by his friends, so he looked away, trying to ignore you as hard as it was.

“wait _____ you’re a virgin?!” one of giselle’s friends, karina, exclaimed after she asked you why you looked so tense.

“is that that obvious?” you’ve never bothered thinking about losing your virginity. it honestly seemed painful that one time you had to write an essay about sexual reproduction sophomore year of high school, so you never went back to it. you don’t have the time for any of that nonsense.

“holy shit you’re the first person in college i’ve met that’s still a virgin! “

you don’t get what’s so surprising. you’re still young anyway. either way, you barely know how to satisfy someone or even yourself.

“wait have you even masturbated?” you shook your head no. the gasps that fell from the table y’all were sitting at could be heard all over the frat house.

“shut up you’re joking, actually?”

“girl what do you do for fun?”

“you need to get laid so you can feel how good it is i swear.”

you quickly dismissed her other friend, ningning’s request. you were too nervous to even go up to a man, how the heck could you just do it with him?

“this room is drowning with fine men, and you’re hot, simple hook.” her other friend said, chaewon. damn giselle’s more popular than you thought.

“i really don’t know anyone here, it’ll be too awkward..” you scratched your neck. this just made you realize how disconnected socially you were. you only knew sunghoon and jake out of the thousand people here.

“wait her roommate is sunghoon right giselle?” giselle nodded at kazuha’s question.

“wait sunghoon? ew no. i’ve known him forever we’re like siblings!” kazuha chuckled.

“no not him! but his bestie, jake. he’s been glancing at our table since we got here. you know him?”

jake? you never thought of him that way. sure he was handsome and very honestly your type of guy, but would he really? from what you know, he's not that type of guy. sunghoon described him as the "purest" of his friend group. (girl if only you knew..)

“he’s cute, and kazuha’s right, he keeps staring at you.” giselle adds on.

jake couldn’t enjoy himself. knowing you’re here somehow affects him more than he thought it would. he should’ve stayed playing on his playstation.

while the rest of his friends went on to dance with their girlfriends, jake stood there seated on the stool. glancing your direction every now and then, hoping to god you wouldn’t catch him. he was so lost in his head that he didn’t even notice someone standing next to him.

almost as if you could read his mind, there you were. standing, arms crossed, bitting your lip nervously. like you had something to tell him.

you’ve never flirted with anyone before, you’re just going to ‘wing it’ like chaewon said.

“______? i thought you didn’t like this environment.” he started the conversation, quoting what you said to him a couple of days ago when he visited.

you laughed nervously. “ha, yea, still do but i guess i just wanted to try it out for once.” jake could tell something’s up. normally you wouldn’t be so nervous talking to him. or maybe he just looks real fine tonight.

to ease up the tension, jake led the conversation pretty smoothly. mostly asking you about school and such. thankfully, you looked more relaxed a couple of minutes into the conversation, he really is a great talker, you thought.

somehow the topic tumbled over boyfriends and girlfriends. you don’t know how.

“seriously? i don’t believe you!” jake said as you told him your very empty love life. jake already knew this obviously, he just pretended to not know so you wouldn’t be weirded out.

“have you?” you asked. jake nodded. “ like three in high school but none during college, just hook-ups i guess.” your eyes widened, not expecting that last part. this is what sunghoon thinks of as ‘pure’ ?

“what is that surprising?” jake chuckled after seeing your reaction. you waved him off denying it, but it was actually shocking.

“sorry, i didn’t mean to react like that.”

“it’s cool don’t worry. i’m guessing you don’t do those kind of things.” your cheeks were tinted red. the way he was staring at you at that moment did something inside you that you’ve never felt before.

“uh, no never actually.” jake just smirked at your response, now catching up on why you came up to him so nervous.

jake never thought this day would actually come. he had you asking him to “show him how to do it.”

and there he was, showing you. you were on your knees in front of him, looking up at him with those cute doe eyes of yours.

“just stroke it baby , up and down, slowly.” you were almost scared of screwing it up. your hand can barely wrap around his dick completely. jake had to hold himself together, he could cum right now.

“fuck yeah just like that baby, now faster.” you do as told, noticing how lubricated he’s become. you were engrossed at his reactions. he was groaning and moaning with every stroke you gave.

“open your mouth baby, i wanna feel it.” mouth?

“my mouth? do i just suck it? or ?”

“just open it baby.” you soon opened your mouth while he gathered your hair into a ponytail in his hands. pushing himself in as much as he could.

you did what your intuition told you to and began sucking it and licking it, catching jake by surprise.

“shit princess. stepping ahead i see.” his head thrown back, this might be the best head he’s ever gotten.

the image of the way your small mouth wrapped around his cock drove him insane.

jake started moving his hips up into your mouth, making you gag. although you pretty much couldn’t breath properly. you…liked it? you did not want to let go of him.

“fuck baby, stop i can’t cum so fast, i need to fuck you.” he said pushing you off of his dick, laying you down on his bed, bare right in front of him.

your heart started to speed up, was this actually about to happen?

“relax baby, i promise ill try to make it as enjoyable as possible. trust me.” he said kissing your plump lips.

jake looked calm and cool on the outside but was he panicking on the inside. like he said before, he can’t believe the day finally came.

his hands rummaged through your body, fuck it was literally perfect. just like the last time he saw it.

his fingers found your pussy, rubbing your clit, catching you by surprise. you’ve never had this sort of sensation before. as he kept teasing your heat and sucking your clit, you get what the girls were talking about.

“oh my- “ you could barely speak as jake was too fixated in your pussy. your fingers entangled between his locks, you’ve really been missing out.

jake pulled away, earning a whine form the loss of contact, but then you saw him grab a condom and roll on to him.

you took a deep breath as he lined himself up in your entrance.

“it’s going to hurt a little at first baby, it’s normal, just relax okay?” you nodded and kissed him before he entered inch by inch.

jake in reality wanted to pound into you. seeing your expressions with his cock inside of you isn’t helping.

it hurt more than a ‘little’ , you had to admit. as he fully entered you, jake groped your breast, kissing them, leaving hickeys all over them. knowing that no other man has been able to do this to you made him moan. you’re all his.

“you can move..” you said getting the green light to start to thrust.

soon the pain you felt in the beginning, vanished as you suddenly wanted him to go faster and faster.

“oh fuck right there!” this was the first time jake heard you curse and fuck was it hot.

“yea baby? want me to go faster? you love this cock that much already hm?” you nodded desperately.

jake was over the moon, this was so much better than what he imagined. you were like an actual goddess, he was the lucky one.

jake, wanting to go deeper, grabbed your thighs and put them over his shoulders, leaning down.

you felt like you were in another world. you had no idea you could feel this amount of pleasure ever. you were almost crying from the level of ecstasy.

“i f-feel something, i think i’m going to come…” you said, unsure of what the feeling was.

“shit baby me too, cum all over my dick like the good girl you are.” your legs trembled as you felt some sort of relief wash over your body. both jake and you moaned as your climaxes reach over.

pulling out and dispensing his condom, jake laid next to you, grabbing your waist.

“so…what do you think?” he said caressing your cheek. you looked at him in awe.

“should’ve done that a long time ago.”

[punkshort]

saturday

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (established relationship)

Summary: Your sister, Cassie, gives birth, and Joel has a question for your father.

Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, soft!joel, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, oral sex (f receiving), size kink?, alcohol use, reader's sister (obviously) gives birth but there's no description of the event

WC: 6.6K

Series Masterlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics

2:38am

You blinked a few times, making certain you were reading the time correctly. Sleep still weighed you down and you were having a hard time comprehending what woke you up in the first place. Then you heard it again and your heart jumped into your throat.

Someone was at your apartment door, you were sure of it. You could hear quiet scratching on the other side and when you sat up in bed to look across your apartment, you could see the unmistakable shadows of two legs under the crack in the door.

"Oh, my god," you mumbled, throwing the sheets off and grabbing your phone. Where was the baseball bat Joel gave you? What the hell did you do with it?

"Closet," you whispered to yourself, taking a few steps towards the coat closet when the door cracked open and you froze. You were in the middle of your apartment in just a tank top and underwear, clutching your stupid phone. This is how women are always killed in horror movies, you thought.

A familiar man's broad fame tripped over his own feet as he entered, and when you heard him curse quietly under his breath, relief flooded your veins which was quickly followed by annoyance. Reaching over to the floor lamp next to your couch, you flicked the switch, making him yelp and wince.

"What the hell are you doing, Joel?!"

He blinked rapidly and looked around the room before his eyes landed on you and a lazy grin spread across his lips. His hair was a mess and you could smell the alcohol and cigarettes from ten feet away. You wrinkled your nose but you couldn't help the goofy smile you always got whenever you saw him.

"You stink."

"Hey, baby," he croaked, his voice raspy from having far too much fun that evening. He stumbled towards you and you noticed dark spots staining his navy T-shirt that you hoped was just spilled beer.

"You scared the shit outta me. I almost called the cops!" you said, holding up your phone. "What are you doing?"

"Came t'see you," he slurred, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. Now that he was standing in the light, you could see the pink dusting his cheeks underneath his heavy lidded eyes.

"You're very drunk," you told him, and he just hummed in response before burying his face in your neck. "Had fun with Tommy and the guys I take it?"

"Mhm," he mumbled, his lips sucking messily at your shoulder. "Wanted t'see you. Missed you. Fuck, you smell so good."

You giggled when his facial hair ticked your neck. "You came to see me because you can't drive home and my apartment is within walking distance of all the bars."

He pulled away and gave you a feigned look of hurt. "No. Thought 'bout you all night. Talked 'bout you all night," he said, leaning into the crook of your neck. His hands slid down from your waist to cup your ass and he groaned. "I like these," he murmured into your skin, his fingertips tugging playfully at the edge of your underwear.

And even though your body was responding to his touch, warmth blooming between your legs, your curiosity won. "What did you talk about?" you asked, biting on your lower lip when he pulled you closer, pressing you against his erection through his jeans.

"How fuckin' happy you make me. How I wanna spend my life with you. How sexy you are," he said lowly, gripping your jaw and giving you a sloppy kiss.

"Oh, wow, spend your life with me? You really are drunk," you giggled after you pulled away. "Let me make you something to eat."

You managed to wiggle out of his grasp and walk towards the kitchen area, flicking on lights as you went and opening the fridge. "Leftover pizza okay?" you asked, pulling out the cardboard box and flipping the top open before grabbing some foil to lay down in your toaster oven.

"What'dya mean? I ain't that drunk. 'Course I wanna spend my life with you," he said, leaning up against your counter, watching you work.

You turned the dial on the toaster oven and popped in two slices of leftover takeout pizza before turning around to face him. "We met four months ago and you want to spend your life with me?"

His eyes suddenly appeared clearer when he looked at you. "Yeah. 'Course I do."

You gave him a look before pulling a plate down from your cupboard.

"What? You don't believe me?"

You put the plate down and shook your head.

"It doesn't matter," you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck and dragging him down for a kiss, but he pulled back before you could make contact.

"I mean it," he told you, sounding serious. "Already got the ring."

Your eyes bugged out of your head and your eyebrows shot straight up. "What?!"

"I'm just kiddin'," he said immediately when he saw your reaction, something flickering across his face for a split second before the toaster oven beeped and distracted you. You pulled your arms away, turning around to check his food when you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind.

"I'm only hungry for one thing," he whispered in your ear, the ring comment suddenly long forgotten. You leaned back into his chest, pulling his pizza out of the oven while he nipped at your earlobe.

"Why don't you eat some actual food," you offered, turning around in his arms with a playful smirk. "And then you can have me for dessert?"

A wide smile stretched across his face and he nodded. "Deal."

"Fuck, Joel," you whined, his face buried between your legs, your fingers tangled in his curls as he dragged another orgasm to the surface. You were confident at this point you've never wanted anybody the way you wanted him. You kept waiting for that honeymoon period to end, but somehow each time with him was just more intense than the last.

Your head fell back against your cupboard while you cried out his name, your thighs clutching his head as a rush of white hot heat flooded your body, little whimpers slipping past your lips until he finally pulled away. Your legs dropped shakily onto the counter as you struggled to catch your breath. He watched you try to recover with a pleased smirk on his face, wiping away your slick with the back of his hand. You gazed at him, your mouth open and panting for air, your eyes half closed and filled with need.

"Fuck me, Joel," you gasped, slipping down from the counter, your underwear lost somewhere on the floor. He groaned and crashed his mouth over yours, giving you a taste of yourself while his hands greedily reached down to lift you up, carrying you towards your bed.

"Shit," he muttered when he stumbled a bit, and you weren't sure if it was his excitement or the alcohol to blame but you giggled nonetheless.

He dropped you unceremoniously onto your bed before he got to work stripping himself of his clothes. He seemed to be struggling with his belt but when you kneeled on the mattress and pulled your tank top off, his fingers magically began to work faster at the leather. He hopped on one foot, kicking his jeans off in a hurry and making you laugh before he stood up straight against the edge of your bed and cupped your face with both his hands, pulling you in for a kiss and stealing all the air from your lungs.

He broke away but kept his nose pressed against yours, your face still held delicately in his large hands as he whispered, "need y'so bad, baby."

Your eyes drifted down between your bodies and you raised an eyebrow at his painful looking erection pressed up against your stomach. "You don't say," you teased, and he smirked before giving you one more soft kiss on the lips. He dropped his hands to your shoulders and gave you a gentle shove, indicating he wanted you to lay down, but you bit your lip and shook your head before twisting around, propping yourself up on all fours and looking back at him over your shoulder. "Like this," you told him, and a low groan rumbled deep within his chest as he stared down at you.

"You tryin' to kill me?" he asked, bringing his palms up to glide smoothly over your ass, giving one cheek a little squeeze. "I ain't gonna last long like this."

"You weren't gonna last long, anyway. Not with all the beer you drank tonight," you replied with a grin.

He chuckled and spread his legs a little wider before bending his knees and lining himself up with your entrance. When you felt the familiar fat tip of his cock notched against you, you sucked in a deep breath. Joel was normally a lot to take, but from this angle, you knew it would be even more intense.

He pushed inside with a grunt, giving you time to adjust when he heard your sharp gasp before sliding all the way inside and bottoming out with a low groan. Looking down at your ass flush with his hips, he knew he was a goner. The muscles in his stomach were already twitching and tensing and he barely even moved yet.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you pressed your mouth into your shoulder, stifling your whimpers while your body slowly relaxed around his girth.

"Y'okay, baby?" he murmured, his fingers flexing around your hips the only movement he allowed himself to make, patiently waiting for you to get comfortable.

"Mhm," you whined, then rolled your head to the side and arched your back a little, stretching yourself around him. "Just so big. So fucking big, fuck," you gasped when you felt him pulse inside you from the compliment.

"Don't talk like that, c'mon," he groaned, closing his eyes. Baseball. Tommy. Hanging drywall. Do not fucking come.

You looked at him over your shoulder, a lazy smile twitching at your lips when you saw his closed eyes and the pained expression on his face. Something about being able to pull him apart like this made you feel powerful, so you decided to have a little fun. You began to slowly move your hips, keeping your eyes on him as you rocked back and forth. His fingertips dug into your waist and his eyes flew open.

"W-wait-"

You sunk your teeth into your lower lip and moved a little faster, watching as his eyebrows pinched together and his breathing became erratic. "Why?" you asked innocently, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

"Stop, baby. Fuck, I'm-" he hissed and tried to pull out but you pushed yourself back on him further before he could move. "I'm gonna come, it's too soon," he whined, his face contorted in embarrassment.

"Joel, look at me," you commanded, slowing to a stop so he could focus. His chest was heaving and his fingertips were most definitely leaving bruises in your skin as he tried to fight off his climax. "You already made me come twice in the past thirty minutes. Now I want you to fuck me exactly like you want to and I don't care if you come in ten seconds or ten minutes. Can you do that for me?"

His eyes darkened a bit and the corner of his mouth turned up into half a smirk.

"Yes," he murmured, finally allowing his gaze to drop to your ass and you saw him swallow before taking a deep breath. In an instant his hips started snapping into you, almost making you fall forward but you quickly braced yourself. Your mouth hung open, hardly able to make a sound when your entire focus was on the way he managed to reach the furthest depths of you with each devastating stroke. One of his hands gripped your shoulder, the other still planted firmly on your waist as he slammed you back against his hips with each thrust, your skin smacking together so loudly you barely heard him grunting each time he knocked the wind out of you.

The hand he had placed on your hip slid to your lower back and he gently pressed his palm down, his pace still merciless when he whispered "can'ya arch your back a little more, baby?"

You could hardly form a coherent thought let alone sentence, so you did as you were asked without answering. Based on the loud groan you heard, he was pleased.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck," he chanted, breathing heavily behind you as you did your best to hold yourself up against his ruthless pace, but you could feel your legs getting weak. He suddenly fell forward and wrapped his arms around your ribs, yanking you up with a yelp so your back was flush against his chest and his mouth was pressed against the shell of your ear.

Your hands tried to grab his weakly, looking for some part of him to hold onto when he moaned into your hair and his body stilled momentarily, his hips stuttering as he flooded you with his release. Neither of you moved as you each fought to catch your breath, your head falling back against his shoulder. His heavy breathing was loud against your ear, then his chest eventually slowed down and his heartbeat returned to normal. Your legs began to tremble so he tightened his hold around you, holding you even tighter against him.

"I got you," he whispered, leaning forward so you could relax tiredly into your mattress. He pulled out with a soft grunt before collapsing next to you, stretching his arms wide. You crawled into his embrace and buried your face against his chest with a contented sigh.

"Too much?" he asked, his voice sounding a little hoarse as he drew invisible circles on your shoulder with his thumb. You shook your head and closed your eyes. "You're so fuckin' perfect, y'know that? How'd I get so lucky?" he asked softly, and you smiled. "You feed me 'n then you fuck me. What else could a man want?" he joked, and you giggled in his arms.

"Don't forget you went down on me in between those two things. You're pretty damn perfect, too."

He hummed and pulled your comforter over you both, making sure you were all tucked in and warm.

"I love you, baby."

"I love you, too," you whispered sleepily.

9:13am

Your phone rang shrilly on your nightstand, startling you both out of your deep sleep in surprise.

"Oh, Jesus, fuck," Joel mumbled, his hands immediately coming up to clutch his head. You sat up, holding the comforter against your chest as you groggily reached for your phone, knocking over a framed picture of you and Joel in the process. When it clattered loudly to the floor, he groaned.

"What?" you snapped angrily when you answered your phone, not even looking to see who was calling.

"Buck! It's happening!"

Your heart skipped a beat and you gasped, making Joel drop his hands from his face to look at you curiously.

"Now?!"

"Yes, now!" your sister, Cassie, replied on the other end. "We're on our way to St. Dave's. Mom and Dad are already on the way."

"Oh my god!" you yelled, throwing the comforter off yourself and running to your closet completely naked. Joel sat up and gawked as you used one hand to pull out fresh clothes, tossing them on the bed frantically and although he could tell it was an emergency, he couldn't stop staring at your perfect fucking body.

"W-where do I go? The emergency room or labor and delivery?"

Joel threw his legs over the side of the bed and tried to shake away his massive hangover before standing up slowly and hunting down his clothes.

"Okay, okay. I'll be there in like," you looked at your clock quickly, "twenty minutes."

You hung up and threw your phone on your bed before grabbing your underwear and pulling them on, much to Joel's dismay.

"Cassie's in labor!" you said, rushing past him in just your bra and underwear.

"I gathered," he said with a yawn. "You got any Motrin? The hospital's got a coffee spot, right? Starbucks or somethin'?"

You popped your head out of the bathroom and handed him the bottle of medicine. "You're coming with me?"

"Yeah, 'course I am," he said, popping two pills and swallowing them dry. "Unless you don't -"

"No!" you said hurriedly, disappearing back in the bathroom. "I want you to! I just thought you'd have to go home to Sarah."

"She's at a friend's house the whole weekend. It's why Tommy dragged me out in the first place. Said I never spend time with him when we work together all damn day," he muttered under his breath before sniffing his shirt from the night before and making a face. "This smells like the floor of a bar."

"You have some spare clothes here, remember? In the third drawer," you told him as you dried your face and started to brush your hair into a ponytail. He went to your closet and opened the dresser, smiling when he saw the entire drawer was devoted to just his things before picking out a fresh outfit and a stick of deodorant, hoping it would be enough because there was no way he would have time for a shower.

"Do I still stink?" he asked worriedly when you walked by, shrugging on a shirt. You stopped and sniffed him, then grinned.

"You smell like sex."

He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Well, in that case, I'm ready to go."

"At least brush your teeth, you animal," you teased, shoving him towards the bathroom with a laugh. He stumbled into your small bathroom and found the spare toothbrush you bought for him. As he quickly brushed his teeth, he ran his fingers through his messy hair, trying to tame the bedhead to no avail. After he rinsed, he wet both his hands and ran his fingers through his hair a few times, slicking his curls back to make himself look more presentable.

When he was satisfied, he met you out in your kitchen, your face buried in your phone as you furiously texted your family. You glanced up at him and did a double take when you saw his hair.

"Oh, I like that look," you said lowly, reaching out a small hand to gently touch his wet hair, and he grinned. "It's not fair. If I were hungover as shit, I would look like road kill, and here you are looking more handsome than ever," you told him, pecking a kiss to his lips before grabbing your bag and heading to the door.

"You must've seen some real pretty roadkill if you think that," he told you, following you out the door and draping an arm around your shoulders as you headed to the elevator. "Want me to drive?"

"Yeah, if you don't mind," you said, handing him your car keys before tapping away on your phone again. "My mom's telling me where we should park."

Joel courteously dropped you off at the hospital entrance while he parked your car, giving you the opportunity to find your parents quicker. You saw your dad waiting for you by the front desk, his head tilted down towards his phone.

"Dad!" you called out, and he looked up at you with a smile. Slipping his phone in his pocket, he bent down and enveloped you in a big bear hug. Your dad, Paul, was a big guy and might come off intimidating to most who didn't know him, but at the heart of it all he was a huge softie.

"How's she doing?" you asked, pulling away while he stabbed the button for the elevator.

"She's doin' alright. Little nervous but she's ready."

When you noticed the elevator about to reach the lobby, you glanced behind you. "Wait! Joel's parking the car," you said, and his eyebrows rose a bit in surprise.

"Oh, didn't realize Joel's here," he replied, glancing at his watch, and you immediately felt the heat creeping up your neck.

"He was out with his friends and brother last night. He had too much to drink and couldn't drive so he walked to my place," you told him, which wasn't exactly a lie. When you saw Joel walking through the lobby, his hands shoved in his pockets and his hair slicked back, you felt the same flutter in your stomach you felt every time you saw him and you prayed it would never go away.

Joel's gaze landed on you first and then your dad's, giving you both warm smiles as he approached.

"Hey Paul, early congratulations are in order," he said, shaking your dad's hand just as the elevator dinged behind you.

"Thanks, Joel," he replied, clapping him on the back and following you into the elevator. "Heard you had a fun night last night."

Joel's eyes went wide and the blood drained from his face as his gaze darted back and forth between you both.

"The bar. With Tommy and them," you reminded him, and his shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Oh, yeah. Too much fun. Feelin' it today," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Tommy met a girl, though. Got her number, if I recall, so maybe that'll get him off my back. Can't drink the way I used to."

"A girl? That's great. Maybe y'all can double date or somethin'," your dad said, stepping through the open elevator doors when you reached labor and delivery. "Now she's only allowed two visitors plus Josh, so why don't you go back and we'll swap out after a while. It's room 663."

"Okay," you said, turning to Joel. "I'll be back soon, I just want to check on her-"

"Take your time," he told you, kissing the top of your head. "I'll get us some coffee and somethin' to eat."

You smiled in relief and hurried past the swinging doors, eager to see your sister.

12:26pm

The strong, over-caffeinated coffee Joel drank managed to quell his nasty hangover. You had swapped out with your dad once already, gratefully accepting the breakfast he bought while you updated him on your sister's status. From what he gathered, her water broke but she wasn't dilated enough yet. It had been quite a few years, but Joel remembered when Sarah was born and how long it took. When his ex went into labor, they both thought they had to rush to get to the hospital, assuming the baby would arrive quickly but it ended up taking a day and a half before Sarah was actually born.

"You don't have to stay, you know," you told him after a few hours. "I know this is boring and there's nothing to do. I'm sure you have things to do at home-"

"I wanna be with you," he said, cutting you off. "If I went home I'd just be sittin' around wonderin' what you're doin', so I think I'll stay if that's alright by you."

You gave him a shy smile and looked away, and goddamnit you looked so beautiful every time he made you blush.

The double doors swung open and your dad emerged, holding out his arms to his sides with a smile.

"Still the same," he announced, and both your faces fell. "Tag, you're it," he teased, tapping you on the shoulder before you stood up.

"I'll be back in a while," you told Joel, stretching your arms a bit. "But seriously, if you want to go home it's totally fine. You can take my car and my parents can take me back."

"I told you, I ain't goin' anywhere," he said firmly, "now go be with you sister, she needs you."

You smiled and blew him a quick kiss before pushing past the doors. He looked over at Paul, who was scrolling on his phone, and took a deep breath.

It was now or never, and he might as well do it while your dad was in a good mood.

"Hey, Paul, can I talk to you 'bout somethin'?"

Paul looked up and clicked the button on the side of his phone, the screen going dark.

"Sure. What's on your mind, Joel?"

Joel knew Paul long before he even knew you. He met your parents when he was hired to build their house, which took a very long time and was a lot of hard work, but he loved being able to bring to life what someone could only dream about. He always got along well with your parents, so much so that they invited him to their Christmas party, which was when he met you and his life changed forever.

And even though he knew your father well and he had no reason to be nervous, he still felt butterflies in his stomach as he thought about what he wanted to say.

"Well, it's 'bout your daughter," he began, his fingers fidgeting anxiously in his lap as he struggled to maintain eye contact.

"Bucky? Everythin' okay?" Paul asked, suddenly looking concerned. Joel quickly shook his head.

"She's great. Nothin' bad. We're... great," he stammered, taking another deep breath. "I love her very much. I'd do anythin' for her, I hope y'know that," he said, hoping his voice didn't tremble like he thought it did. "We're plannin' on movin' in together when her lease is up in a few months, I think she told you," Joel said, looking up at Paul questioningly. He nodded slowly, his brow beginning to furrow a bit.

"Yeah, she told us. We think that's great, Joel. You know we love havin' you part of the family," he told him, and Joel felt a bit of relief when he saw his opening.

"That's exactly what I wanted to talk 'bout, actually," he said, and Paul tilted his head to the side, confused. "'Bout bein' part of the family, that is. I-I'd like to ask her to marry me - with your blessing, of course," Joel said hurriedly, "and not straight away. I was thinkin' when she moved in I might ask her then. I know it's soon, I know we've only been datin' a few months, but Paul, I gotta be honest with you, she's the one for me," Joel said, the words tumbling out now as he watched Paul's eyes go soft. "I've never been more sure 'bout anythin' in my life. And I promise I'll take care of her, I'll love her and give her whatever she needs. I'll never do wrong by her, you got my word-"

"Joel," Paul chuckled, waving his hands in the air. "Joel, that's enough. You don't gotta sell yourself to me. I know you're a good man, I see how happy you make my daughter, I ain't blind. 'Course you have our blessing. Christ, nothin' would make us happier."

"Really?" he breathed as a smile stretched across his face, his hands trembling now in his lap.

"Yes, really. The hell you so nervous for?"

"Well, figured you'd be upset 'bout her last engagement and how we haven't known each other long," Joel admitted, running a shaky hand through his hair.

Paul shook his head and made a face. "That last guy never even had the guts to ask me. I had a feelin' it wouldn't last, but I had hoped my little girl would be the one to end it on her terms. But it all worked out, anyway. She met you," he said, grabbing Joel's shoulder and giving it a firm shake. "You might've only known her for a few months but I've known you years and I know the type of man you are. I see the way you look at each other. Reminds me of when I met Martha," Paul said, his eyes growing misty. "When you know, you know."

Joel smiled and blinked back tears of his own. "Yeah, you're right. When you know, you know."

Paul leaned forward and pulled Joel into a tight hug, squeezing the air from his lungs in the process but he didn't care. He had your father's blessing, that was the first hurdle. Now all he had to do was find enough courage to ask you to marry him one day.

5:48pm

"You havin' fun, babygirl?" Joel asked into his phone as he paced the halls of the hospital.

"So much fun, Dad. It's supposed to be warm out tonight so we're all gonna sleep outside in tents and have a campfire."

"Now why are you excited to sleep outside with your friends but when I wanna go camping you always say no?" he said, smirking when he heard her groan.

"Because I'm still within walking distance of indoor plumbing," she shot back, making him chuckle softly.

"Yeah, well, y'got me there," he conceded, his eyes flicking up when he noticed you walk through the doors, scanning the lobby looking for him. He held up his hand and when you saw him, your mouth stretched out into a tired smile.

"How's Cassie?"

"Nothin' new but I think I might be gettin' an update here in a second," he said, eyeing you as you hurried up to him. "You call me if you need anythin' at all, alright?"

"I will."

"Okay, love you," he said right as you caught up to him.

"Love you too, Dad."

He dropped the phone from his ear and slid it back into his pocket. "How's she doin'?"

"She's getting ready to push!" you said excitedly, grabbing his arm as you bounced on the balls of your feet. "I was just giving them a few minutes of privacy but she said she wants me to hold one of her hands. The doctors said you and Dad can wait outside the room if you want," you told him, pulling him back down the hall towards your father, who was already waiting with a nervous look on his face.

"How're you holdin' up?" Joel asked Paul, who looked paler the closer he got. You let go of his arm and he followed you down the hospital corridor, making sure to stay out of the way of the passing medical staff.

"I'm 'bout to be a grandpa, Joel. I'm feelin' every emotion there is right now," Paul said with a nervous laugh.

Even though his hangover was still a very fresh memory, he still said, "why don't we get a drink later on and celebrate? Help take the edge of a bit."

Paul clapped Joel's shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze and making him wince, but Paul didn't notice. His eyes were fixed on a door at the end of the hall. "That sounds like a plan, son."

Joel choked up for a moment at the term of endearment but quickly swallowed it down. This was about Cassie and Josh, not him. But still, the fact Paul felt comfortable calling him son during such a pivotal moment in his life touched him.

"Okay, I'll come out and let you know how it goes," you said, turning around to face the two of them. It melted Joel's heart, the way you were so happy and excited for your sister.

"Alright Bucky, you take care of our girl," your dad said, planting a kiss on the top of your head. You turned to Joel and he shot you a wink.

"Go on, now," he told you with a smile, and you gave him a quick kiss on his cheek before disappearing inside the room.

It took nearly one more hour, but after hearing a lot of screaming and crying from your sister, there was a brief silence before the telltale sound of a newborn's cries filtered through the door. Joel's eyes widened when he looked at Paul, who immediately began to tear up. Joel grinned and patted him on the back but he was quickly yanked into a bear hug so tight he wondered how he didn't fracture a rib.

"Congrats," Joel said, his voice a little pained, but Paul didn't notice. He was far too excited as tears of joy spilled down his cheeks.

Josh stumbled through the door wearing a disposable apron and cap, looking shellshocked as he yanked off a blue mask. Paul grabbed him and pulled him into a fierce hug, making his eyes bug out of his head even more and Joel had to stifle a chuckle.

"It's a girl," Josh said, a smile stretching across his face now. Paul laughed and wiped away his tears while Joel shook Josh's hand and congratulated him. "They're both doing great. Cassie's great. The baby's great. Perfect. Oh my god, I'm a dad," he said, suddenly bending over, his hands gripping his knees as he breathed deeply.

Paul laughed and rushed into the room, leaving just Joel and Josh in the hallway.

"You alright?" he asked Josh, putting a hand on his shoulder to help steady him.

"Yeah. It just kinda hit me all at once, y'know?" he said weakly, falling limply into a chair. "How'd you do it, man? Weren't you freaking out?"

"Oh, yeah. I still freak out," Joel admitted, sitting down next to Josh. "Havin' a girl is hard. They are unpredictable and independent but also so amazing and strong."

"You got any advice for being a girl-dad?" he asked, half joking.

Joel grinned and leaned his head against the wall as he scratched his chin and thought about it.

"Encourage her. Let her be herself. Let her paint your nails and make mistakes. Play tea parties with her and listen to her. Don't lie to her. Do your best. Show her love. Make sure she sees how you and Cassie love each other. Treat her with respect, but don't assume anythin'. Wear the tiara. Wear the boa. Just... be there. Because a father's love for his daughter is special. Look at Paul," Joel said, stretching his arm out towards the closed door. "He hasn't left this building all day. He raised two beautiful, smart, well rounded women who he would go to war for but also lets them be themselves. Lets them make their own choices and doesn't hold 'em back. Just... love her, man," Joel said, tilting his head in Josh's direction. He had been quietly listening to everything he said, absorbing every word before taking a deep breath.

"Thanks, Joel," Josh said with tears in his eyes. "I mean it. Thanks."

Joel slapped him on the back with a wide smile.

"No problem. Now get in there and help your wife."

Josh stood up and looked down at Joel. "Aren't you coming?"

Joel stood and followed Josh inside the crowded room, which was currently being vacated by the hospital staff so everyone could bond with the new family member.

But what Joel wasn't expecting to see was you holding the newborn in your arms, seated in a chair next to Cassie's bed as you gazed down lovingly at your niece.

Something tugged inside Joel's chest when he saw you. Something foolish and primal and earth-shattering. You looked up at him and smiled.

"Look, Joel. Meet Anna," you said, your gaze finding hers once again, and Joel looked at you, praying his face didn't give away what he was feeling in that moment.

"She's gorgeous," he whispered to Cassie, then went to stand behind your chair so he could admire Anna's sleeping face.

Paul was snapping pictures while Martha was on her phone talking to extended family, letting them know the good news. Josh pressed a kiss against Cassie's lips and murmured what a great job she did, but all Joel could see was you and Anna. You looked so at ease as you cradled her in your arms, like you were made for it and he felt his throat close up.

You finally handed her back to her mother but made sure to press a quick kiss against her forehead first.

"We should probably let you guys get to know each other," you said, giving Cassie a half hug.

"Thank you so much, Bucket," Cassie said softly, looking down at her baby. "I couldn't have done it without you. Thank you for being here, Joel," she added, and he smiled.

"'Course I'd be here. You're like family to me," he said sincerely, and she gave him a tired smile.

You blew Cassie a kiss and gave your parents a hug before grabbing his hand and leading him out the door.

"Well that was an unexpected way to spend a Saturday," you said, wrapping your arm around his bicep as he lead you to the elevator.

A flurry of thoughts swam through his head as he walked you through the parking garage to your car, but he kept them all to himself. It was an eventful day, you were right. You just had no idea how much.

"Did you want to stay the night?" you asked him when he parked your car, and he felt the butterflies swirl in his stomach. He wanted nothing more than to spend every second with you, but he made a promise.

"Yeah, but I mighta made plans," he confessed, and you gave him a look as you stepped out of the passenger side of your car. "Told your dad I'd take him for a drink to celebrate," he told you, and you rolled your eyes.

"After last night? You're willing to drink again so soon?" you teased as he walked you into the lobby of your building.

"Just one drink. Then I'll be back, and this time I won't sneak up on you," he murmured, pressing a slow kiss against your soft lips.

"Better not, or else I might not be so nice this time," you whispered against his lips, making him groan.

"You were real nice," he said lowly, his cock already twitching in his jeans. "Give me a couple hours and I'll return the favor."

"Is that a promise, Mr. Miller?" you asked playfully just as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open.

And maybe it was because he was so tired, or maybe all of the emotions from the day were building up inside him like a dam ready to burst, but the urge to ask you right then and there was overwhelming. He had never felt so strongly about anything in his whole life. But he had to be careful, especially after your reaction to his comment about the ring. He had to be patient, he had to think about the timing. He had to do it right.

"Yes, ma'am," he finally replied, his tone so serious it made you grin.

You stepped backwards onto the empty elevator, holding his gaze and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you winked.

"I'll be waiting."

Then the doors slid shut, leaving him paralyzed. He had to fight the urge to race up the stairwell and meet you at your door, all breathless and needy, but he forced himself to exit your building. As he strolled down the street, heading towards where he parked his truck the night before and silently praying he didn't get a ticket, he thought about the hold you had over him. It was powerful and intense. Alluring and confounding. Debilitating and staggering.

And he absolutely loved it.

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[dontcarehowlongittakes]

— your wounds make me bleed.

synopsis. you, being the oh so powerful sorcerer you are, did not even realise the extent of your injuries until you found out that you couldn't stand without the support of something— after defeating the curse, of course. shoko's busy, so, satoru, being the gentleman he is (and also the strange source of comfort you have) decides to take matters in his own hands— while being a pain in the ass, obviously.

however, you joking about your death does not help— and satoru's carefree façade manages to slip, bringing back some memories he had tried to forget.

genres/themes. satoru gojo x reader, hurt/comfort, satoru and reader are highschool friends (frenemies ?), satoru and reader bicker a lot, satoru being a menace, reader is also a menace (lmaoo), mentions of blood (reader is injured), mentions of satoru's past, reader comforts satoru.

yoi’s notes. i miss him so much that it physically hurts me. send help LMAOO—

word count. 1.8k

“tsk. and here i thought that you could take care of yourself, at least,” the white-haired man tuts, and you feel yourself roll your eyes to the back of your head for god-knows-what time again— and that of course earns a smirk from him. “how disappointing. and ah, don’t roll your eyes so much. you might just have a view of your non-existent brain and pass out on me. jeez, i wouldn’t want you to dirty my couch.”

“how fascinating to hear that you care about something, satoru,” your voice feigns bewilderment— a simply amazed look in your eyes as you heave a blissful sigh. “at least you’re not as heartless as i thought. hang on there, expensive leather couch.”

“so you’re admitting you’d pass out, and the fact that you don’t have a brain,” satoru huffs out a laugh, finding amusement in the way you let out a small ‘tsk’ of annoyance.

something about satoru comforts you.

no, it isn’t the comfort that people idealise— no physical contact, no silly gifts or acts of service— it was his mere presence that soothed you, while irritating you at the same time. every word that flowed between you two was either a sugary sweet taunt or a blunt insult— yet, you two found solace in each other in a way that was beyond the comprehension of everyone around you.

including you two.

“if not having a brain will make me cope with your ass, then so be it,” a small smirk tugs at the corner of your lips as you watch satoru wrap the bandage in a firm, yet gentle grip around your arm, relishing in the way his eye twitches and his usual shit-eating grin widens in annoyance.

“at least i didn’t get my ass handed back to me by a grade one curse,” the man lets out a scoff. “seriously, how do you even get this beaten-up?”

“hey, ’t wasn’t my fault i only noticed my blood after defeating it,” you say, shifting your position on that damn couch of his, as you felt a sudden urge to fidget with something, “at least it got exorcised.”

“sure,” satoru says, and you swear you could feel him rolling his eyes even through the confines of his blindfold, “very impressive. at least it got exorcised.”

hearing him say those— your— particular words in that mocking, sing-song voice makes an irritated scowl break out into your face, and oh how it makes satoru smile so smugly— making you want to curse the hell out of this menace of a sorcerer.

“you’re applying too much pressure, dumbass,” you mutter, trying not to wince as his fingers tightened the bandages which covered the skin of your hands.

satoru raises a brow, tightening them even more. “deal with it,” he deadpans. “ ’s your fault, ya know? if i keep it loose you’ll start to bleed. again. over my couch.”

the damned couch again.

honestly? you knew that he couldn’t give lesser shits about the furniture, and that he was just saying that to piss you off. and what was even more infuriating was that it was working.

really, years of experience with satoru gojo had changed nothing— and everything in your feelings towards him.

“get it over with the couch, will ya?” it’s your turn to let out an annoyed scoff, which undoubtedly makes the sorcerer let out a snicker of his own.

“sometimes i wonder how you even ended up becoming a sorcerer,” satoru wraps a band-aid around your scratched fingers, “thought you’d leave the job and become a farmer or somethin’, y’know.”

“unlike you, i had spent too much of an effort in the projects yaga gave us in highschool, so there’s no way i’d let it go in vain,” you shake your head, “it would be too embarrassing.”

besides, you’d rather die than see satoru’s laughing face if you ever decided to change your profession just because you weren’t able to handle a curse or two.

“you never change, do you?” satoru huffs out a laugh, and oh god if he didn’t wipe that agonizing smirk off his face within the next second, you’d gladly do the honours— if only you weren't in so much pain, though, “always so damn reckless. it’s a miracle you have me to tend to your wounds, or else just where you be?”

“dead, most probably,” you say with sarcasm dripping down your words, expecting a scoff of amusement in response— but it never came.

you tear your gaze away from the dried gash on your arm to meet satoru's piercing, piercing stare— it was really a wonder how that guy manages to make you feel his eyes bearing into the depths of your soul even though you couldn't quite actually see them because of the shield his blindfold created.

satoru feels a whirl of emotions in him— eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, and you just know that he is not, in fact, amused.

not even in the slightest.

his heart is racing— and if he had his blindfold off, you’d see how his usually bright, azure eyes had a darkened glint in them— something which just screamed out the fact that he was unsettled, uncontrolled— afraid.

as the tense seconds pass, he gives you a little glare, his expression hardening.

“. . that’s not funny,” he utters, before averting his gaze down to your arm. his efficient hands wrap the gauze around your limb almost in a mechanical movement— the little frown never leaving his face, lips pressed into a thin line.

oh.

your gaze softens, watching the sorcerer quietly tend to your wounds, noticing how his gaze lingers on a particularly deep gash on your leg— how his fingers tremble ever so slightly when his touch stays on the burn for a little too long— you notice it, of course you do.

he's thinking about suguru again.

there wasn't quite a time when he didn't— at least he didn’t show it to anyone. but you, you see him for who he is— the lonely man who’s just wanted some love, and not just the title of being ‘the strongest’— the man who still yearns for his best friend to come back, even though he's . . . gone.

you always see through him.

you should've considered your words before joking about something like that, really.

no matter how much of an annoying bastard satoru may be to you, but still, he was satoru to you. not 'the strongest', not the guy who always had that stupid smile plastered on his face at all times, not the guy whom the world saw as undefeatable— no, he was something much, much more.

you watch his tense demeanour threaten to consume him alive— how his hands shake no matter how much he tries to make them steady, how his shoulders go rigid when they were usually slumped carelessly, how his bottom lip quivers— it was just a tiny movement, yet you manage to see.

how could you not see earlier that you words would've affected him? god, you felt so stupid.

“ . . hey,” hearing the soft tone in your voice makes something inside satoru snap— raising his head to forcefully avert his gaze from your injuries to your face— heart beating so loud that he’s unsure whether you wouldn’t have noticed.

but then again, you were you, and satoru was, well . . . satoru.

his eyes widen— seeing you open your arms with that soft, apologetic smile— and before the sorcerer knows, he’s burying his nose into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tight around your injured frame; his lower body on the floor as he nuzzles into your arms on the couch.

most people would’ve hesitated, casted him a wary look of disbelief— the satoru gojo, reduced to a trembling mess just because someone joked about their death? the satoru gojo, who still blames himself for his best friend’s death? the satoru gojo, who’s known as ‘the strongest’— being vulnerable?

indeed, it is the satoru gojo, clinging onto you like a lifeline, large hands of his gripping you so tightly that he's afraid that you might disappear the moment his hold loosens.

your satoru.

arms wrapped around his neck as you shush him, bandaged fingers running through his snowy white strands whilst his shoulders shake— oh how you regretted saying that.

“ . . i hate it when you say stuff like that,” he mutters, and if you didn’t have a knack for noticing subtle things about it, you wouldn’t have seen a barely audible crack in his voice.

“ ’m sorry,” you say in a quiet, soothing tone, pulling away a bit to stare at his face, and god did your heart wrench— satoru's bottom lip was red from him biting on them so much.

gingerly, one of your hands unlatches itself from around his neck, going to gently slip under the hem of his blindfold — as you slowly pull it down, revealing those mystical eyes of his— so terrified that you feel the fear radiating off him.

he seems so, so vulnerable like this— a desperation and fright seizing his entire soul as he stares at you. you cup his cheeks, thumbs caressing his soft, warm skin.

“don’t . . . don’t joke about stuff like that,” he says in breathless, shaky whisper— eyebrows furrowing even more as his breath stutters, and from this moment on you swear to yourself to never say something like that again. not if it hurts satoru.

ever.

“i won’t,” you whisper, pressing your forehead against his, “ ’m sorry, satoru.”

you pull his head down so he’s laying it on your chest, arms wrapped around his neck as you massage his scalp soothingly.

satoru’s shoulders relax, his heart easing a bit from hearing your gentle tone, panicked eyes fluttering close as he lets out a small, shaky sigh, burying his face into your chest— so desperate for comfort, for some kind of reassurance that you are okay, that you won’t leave, that you’ll . . .

stay.

you run your hands through his fluffy locks, gently easing the tension that had accumulated within him with simple movements of your fingertips— earning a soft, relaxed sigh from him.

“keep doing that,” you hear him mutter, and you let out a hum in response, continuing to massage his scalp. “don’t . . . don’t stop. please.”

this is how two you seeked comfort from each other.

something that was beyond words— something that was beyond everyone.

including you two.

as you two lay on the couch— two souls craving reassurances from the other— time ticks by, but oh do you care? not even a bit.

“don’t leave me,” satoru whispers, and you find yourself letting out a murmur of approval, caressing his hair. “i was so scared, i can’t lose you too, i—”

“i’ll stay, satoru.”

and so, you do. as long as you’re here with satoru, he has nothing to fear.

as long as you stay.

☆ @dontcarehowlongittakes on tumblr. do not copy or post any of my works without my permission.

[zweetpea]

so please imagine if you will…

CW: Babies

Imagine You and Gojo as teens. Him being a total player and you being his “innocent” chaotic junior by a year.

Imagine you’ve got a bit of a rivalry going on. Him with all his... stuff... and you with... let's say with a Nullifying cursed Technique.

Imagine you guys grew up together. You always had an edge on him in a fight up until he unlocked his reversed curse technique during his second year at Jujustu Tech.

Imagine that somewhere in your studies you and Gojo had a heart to heart about your futures. It's late... maybe you guys are pulling an all-nighter. He reveals in a moment of what he perceived as weakness his insecurities being the next head of the Gojo clan brought him. How he didn't feel like he'd ever fall in love. How he knew felt like the higher ups would push an arranged marriage onto him. How he was scared that he wouldn't be a good husband or father. And his biggest fear that any child he did bring into this world would have to face the same hardships he did only without the six eyes to back it up. How he felt guilty for taking that opportunity away from them.

Imagine shifting his head onto your lap in that moment and proposing a deal to him. If you both were single by the time you hit 25 you'd marry each other. That way he wouldn't have to worry about whether or not he'd be a good partner. Or how strong his kids could be. Or what kind of woman the higher ups would try to force him to be with.

Imagine after that day he never went on another date for a decade. waiting for the day you'd get married and he could finally have babies with you to keep the Gojo legacy alive.

Imagine him sabotaging any dates you get over the next decade. Being jealous and possessive of you in front of any guys who might find you attractive. (In his mind it's all of them)

Imagine him never telling you any of this You probably already know

Imagine after a while you move away to pursue a career somewhere else because of how clingy and obsessive Gojo has gotten. Completely forgetting about the promise you made and coincidentally not being able to pursue a real relationship because of being a sorcerer.

Imagine on your 25th birthday you get a text from a random number asking you a bunch of strange questions. "Red velvet's still your favorite cake flavor right?" "Is royal blue and rose gold tacky?" "Is rose gold still your favorite color?" "Out of these options which dress is your favorite?" They're all very short cocktail wedding dressed.

Imagine obviously ignoring this stalker. Going about your day. Maybe getting a few drinks with some friends after their work days were over. And when you uber home a bit tipsy you find someone waiting for you in your living room.

"Sweetheart! You're home! And you're wasted!" Gojo held you and kissed your temple. "Come on let's get you cleaned up and get you to bed."

"Gojo? I'm not drunk I'm just a bit buzzed. How and why are you here?"

"Come on, babe. Call me Satoru! I'm here to celebrate your birthday and our engagement!"

"Huh?"

Imagine how sweet he could be as he picks you up in a princess carry and takes you to the bathroom. Carefully getting you cleaned up and reminding you about your deal, and of course asking if you got his texts. You merely laugh and kiss his cheek.

Imagine how the next morning you wake up and roll over in bed only to come face to chest with him.

"How'd you get in my bed?" You'd smile at him.

"I carried my lovely wife here last night, after she got drunk off her ass."

"I thought I told you to sleep on the couch."

"I was lonely." He'd whine and press his cheek against the top of your head.

Imagine how he'd take care of most of the wedding preparations. (except the dress cause ain't no way you bout to look like some hooker barbie on your big day) And him giving you his mother's wedding ring. Just the two of you and a few close friends having a small, intimate ceremony.

Imagine "Forgetting" to tell the higher ups about the union so they call him in to have a meeting with him telling him that they've selected a woman to be his wife. He laughs in their faces as he pulls out his phone and pulls up a photo of you pregnant with his baby.

Imagine his smirk when they all start to freak out and protest. And oh boy...

Imagine how that smirk falls when one of them suggests that the baby isn't his...

Imagine him coming home all bloody. His smile as wide as ever as he informs you that "It's not mine" or his rather. And how you just hand him some new clothes and push him towards the shower.

Imagine how thrilled he is when he finally gets to hold his baby in his arms. The silent vindication he feels seeing as the baby looks exactly like him.

"I spend 12 hours squeezing you out of my body and you have the audacity to look like your father. You really are a Gojo."

Just please Imagine it all for me if you will

[miley1442111]

revealed- s.reid

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

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

summary: derek tricks you both, uh oh.

pairing: spencer reid x fem! reader

warnings: spencer is jealous, cursing, you're a baddie

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

Spencer watched in a pure jealous rage as you and Derek laughed together. You and Derek, the best of friends. The touchiest, best of friends. 

As demonstrated by right now, you had your legs across his, you two were sharing earphones, and he had his arm around you. 

Spencer huffed. You were his girlfriend, his secret girlfriend, but it still hurt. He wanted you to be able to do that to him, to be around him, instead of the way it was now. You’d both decided it would be best if you put some distance between the two of you, just to keep suspicion to a minimum until you were ready to tell the team. Right now, Spencer wanted to get up from his seat,  grab you, kiss you, and tell everyone.  

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

After a few hours, you’d fallen asleep on the couch and Derek was sitting across from Spencer. 

“Spence,” Derek whispered. 

Spencer looked up from his book and turned to him. “Hm?”

“I think I might ask Y/n out,” he whispered, a smirk on his face. 

No, no, no. Derek could not like you. Not like that. Spencer would have no chance. You’re cool and beautiful, and way too smart for him. He had no idea how he got a chance in the first place, but now, he’d lose you forever, and to Derek. 

“What?! W-why would you do that?” Spencer’s voice was about 3 octaves higher than usual and he’d definitely woken you up. 

“Because I like her, a lot?” Derek looked at Spencer. “You ok man?”

“Fine!” Spencer coughed out. “Fine.”

You threw a pillow in their direction, a clear sign to try and shut them up. 

“Sorry,” Derek chuckled and Spencer just gulped. His anxiety grew and grew as the plane ride continued. Would you leave him for Derek? Did you already hate him? “But what about it?”

“What about what?” you yawned sitting up.

“Wanna go out sometime?” Derek asked, flashing you his signature smirk. Spencer had no chance, he should’ve given up months ago you-

“I’d dating Spencer,” you yawned. “Please, for the love of god, can you two just shut the fuck up so the rest of us can sleep?” 

Spencer’s face had never been so red. Derek met his eyes with a smirk. 

“Alright princess,” Derek smirked. “Sweet dreams.”

Spencer was rather confused. Derek didn’t seem to care that you rejected him, strange. He thought he would at least have a slightly bruised ego, or maybe even a moment of sulking, but no. 

He stared at him for a moment, then Derek laughed. 

“I told Garcia I’d get one of you to admit it,” He smirked and Spencer rolled his eyes, annoyed that you two had been tricked. 

“Shut the fuck up Derek!” You groaned, muffled by the pillow you were lying on. 

But Spencer didn’t feel that bad. No more secret keeping, no more sneaking around, and no more ‘no pda’ sentiments. It felt good. 

“I’m very happy for you two, obviously,” Hotch smiled, seemingly coming out of nowhere. “But you will need to sign these documents so I can send them to Strauss.” 

Spencer took the documents and started filling them out, a smile on his face the entire time. 

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

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criminal minds taglist :) (message me or comment to be added :))

@princess76179

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[vbecker10]

Language (Part 1)

Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Captain Rogers thinks you curse far too much at work so he came up with a way for each word to cost you fifty cents no matter where you are in the Tower. You are desperate for it to stop and go to Loki to see if he has a spell that can help you outsmart J.A.R.V.I.S.

Warnings: swearing lol... obviously?

A/N: I'm so sorry @soubi001 lol and you know why. I've been kicking this idea around in my head for a while because I'm very aware that I swear way more often than a normal person lol hope you enjoy it 💚

You knock on Loki's door and wait anxiously for him to answer. A few seconds later, the door opens.

"Can I help you?" he asks you with his typical annoyed expression.

"I hope so," you respond. "Can I come in?" You take a small step forward.

"I don't see why that would be necessary," he crosses his arms and leans on the door frame, blocking your path into his room.

You sigh, "Fine, I guess I can show you my problem out here." He raises an eyebrow and waits for you to continue. "Damnit," you swear then look down.

"Y/N, fifty cents has been deducted from your upcoming paycheck as you are in violation of SHIELD's Inappropriate Language Policy, per Captain Rogers' orders," J.A.R.V.I.S. announces from a speaker overhead. A small holographic screen appears next to you, showing your name and SHIELD photo ID at the top, the fifty cent charge in the center and a running total at the bottom.

Loki chuckles and shakes his head, "So the Captain finally made good on his threat."

"Yea. He thinks this high tech swear jar is going to stop me from cursing all the time but all it's doing is annoying the shit out of me," you complain to Loki.

"Y/N, fifty cents has been deducted from your upcom-," J.A.R.V.I.S. announces again.

"Shut up," you tell the program, cutting the announcement short.

Loki smiles at your outburst then says, "What is it you expect me to do?"

"I have no idea honestly," you shrug. "Don't you have a spell for everything?"

"I have a spell for almost everything, yes," he says then he is quiet for a moment as if he is thinking. "I do think I may have a solution to your... issue." He waves his hand vaguely towards the speaker J.A.R.V.I.S spoke from.

"Really?" you ask excitedly. "That would be awesome." You thought it was going to be way harder than this to convince Loki to help you.

He leans towards you and looks you straight in the eyes. "Stop swearing," he says then he goes back in his room and closes his door in your face.

You stand in the hallway, looking at his door and mumble, "Fuck."

"Y/N, fifty cents has been deducted from-"

"Shut the hell up!" you yell, cutting it off again.

"Y/N, fifty cents has been deducted from your upcoming paycheck-"

"I know! I get it," you tell J.A.R.V.I.S. You can hear Loki laughing loudly through his door and you glare at him even though he can't see you. You turn, ready to give up then you suddenly get an idea. You walk close to the door and say, "Just so I know, it would really piss off Steve if I figure out a way to get around this. Tony too, he helped set it up."

He opens the door a second later and you do your best to hide your smile. "It would aggravate them wouldn't it?" he says almost to himself and you nod but try not to look too excited. He sighs and takes a step back to open the door further, "Very well. I think I might have a spell that could work."

Loki closes the door and you stand awkwardly in the middle of his living area, unsure what to do. You've never been in his apartment before and as far as you know, no one else on the team has either. Loki isn't known for being a fan of having people in his personal space or of people in general.

You look around his living area. One wall is lined with tall, overflowing bookshelves and a leather couch is set against the other wall. A dark wood coffee table matches the end tables, one of which has a short stack of books and a steaming cup of tea. You walk over to the end table with the books and open the cover of the top book, assuming it's what Loki was reading before he opened the door.

"Don't touch anything," Loki says from behind you and you close the book quickly, turning to see him standing closer then you expected.

"Sorry, I was just-" you suddenly feel nervous being alone with him, maybe this wasn't a good idea.

"Sit," he motions towards the couch and you do as he tells you. You sit quietly on the middle of his couch with your hands on your lap, watching him search through the numerous books scattered about. While you wait, your mind wanders to a meeting yesterday morning with the team.

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

You take a seat at the rectangular table across from Thor and Bruce, scrolling through your tablet to find the notes for this meeting. Natasha and Clint walk in, followed by Loki then Steve and Tony. Without a word, Steve places a glass jar that says 'Y/N's Swear Jar' on in it between you and Clint.

You look up at him as he sits. "Seriously Steve? I haven't said a damn thing yet," you tell him then groan when he gives you a disappointed look. You reach into your bag to find your wallet and drop in your last two quarters. "Happy?" you ask him as you sit back in your chair.

"I would be happier if you stopped using inappropriate language so frequently," he answers.

"I think the odds of my brother voluntarily attending one of Stark's parties is higher than Y/N giving up swearing," Thor jokes. Loki roll his eyes as his brother nudges him playfully.

You look at thor, "Did you know that people who swear lie less often then people who don't?" Thor shakes his head and you turn to look at Steve, "They've done studies that suggest that people who curse are more honest because they use fewer social filters when they are expressing their opinions."

"Is that true?" Clint leans towards you.

"I have no idea, I read it online," you whisper back.

"That may be, but it is still not appropriate for a work environment," Steve lectures you.

"I send out super professional emails, isn't that good enough?" you ask.

"No," he answers sternly.

"That's bullshit," you cross your arms and look at him. He doesn't say a word, simply looking from you to the jar and back at you. "Ugh, fine." You grab your wallet and take out a bill, "Does anyone have change for a five?"

"Just put the five in there," Fury says when he walks in. "We all know you'll use it today."

"Hurtful," you tell him but you fold up the bill and put it in the jar then you smile at Steve.

"I don't like that look," Tony says and Steve agrees.

"It's like prepaying for ten words," you laugh, "I just have to use the damn things well."

"Nine," Clint says.

"Ah shit," you look at him and Natasha laughs.

"Eight," he smiles.

"Good thing someone is keeping track," Bruce says.

"Is it ok with everyone if we start this damn the meeting now?" Fury asks annoyed from his seat at the head of the table.

"How come he doesn't get a jar?" you ask, leaning across the table towards Steve and pointing at Fury.

Tony laughs, "Believe me, Steve tried."

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

Loki smirks as he looks up from one of his books, "This spell may help, it will render you utterly mute."

You stand up quickly, "Yea, no, fuck that."

"Y/N, fifty cents has been deducted-" J.A.R.V.I.S says.

"Oh, come the fuck on," you tell it and Loki laughs again.

"Y/N, fifty cents has been deducted from your-" it repeats.

"Just forget it," you tell him. "You don't know how to help me anymore than anyone else did. Coming here was a waste."

You walk past him towards the door and he says, "Maybe you should ask for a raise."

"Thanks," you tell him in an annoyed tone and open his door.

He sighs loudly just as you step out into the hall. "Fine," he says and you turn to look at him. "I'll help."

"With another stupid suggestion?" you ask.

"No, I'm sure I have a spell here we could use," he tells you, gesturing towards his books.

"Why are you changing your mind?" you ask, unsure if you can trust him.

He shrugs, "Honestly I'm bored."

"Seriously?" you ask, crossing your arms.

"Were you hoping for a different reason?" he asks, crossing his arms to mirror your body language.

You unfold your arms, "I mean... yea. You could see least feel a little bad for me?"

"But I don't," he says with a light shrug.

"Oh... well I guess I'll take it," you tell him and close the door. He nods to acknowledge your decision but doesn't reply.

You sit on the couch while his focus returns to his books. You watch him pick up a hardcover book then put it back, taking the one next to it. He flips through the pages slowly and you ask, "Your not gonna turn me into frog or anything, right?"

He looks up at you confused.

"Thor said you've done that to him before," you explain.

He groans, "It was one time and we were children."

"I'm just checking. I don't know how any of this works," you tell him.

"Clearly," he rolls his eyes and goes back to his book. He looks up again and adds, "If I wanted to turn you into a frog I would have done so already."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" you ask.

"Yes," he says matter of factly then he goes back to reading.

You try to get comfortable on Loki's couch but you can't seem to relax, you are afraid to touch anything including the pillows. After a few minutes of silence he sits next to you and you shift away from him a bit. He doesn't seem to notice your reaction and hands you the open book.

"Read this," he says.

"It's in Spanish," you tell him.

"Very observant," Loki nods.

"I can't read this. I took three years of Spanish in high school but it didn't really stick," you explain.

"Humans are so dull without the Allspeak," he mumbles.

"Do you always need to be annoying?" you ask him.

"No," he smiles at you.

"What was your point with the book?" you ask, trying to get back on track.

"I will explain after. Read this part," he points to a specific paragraph.

You give the short paragraph your best attempt. Based on the way Loki flinches at how you pronounce almost every word, you assume you did awful. J.A.R.V.I.S remains silent so you ask Loki what you said.

He smirks, "Something that should have cost you more than a few dollars."

"Really?" you ask and look back at the book. You grab your phone and use it to translate the text. Your eyes go wide at the excessive swearing and insults the character uses to describe another character. "Wow," you laugh, "You weren't kidding."

"Now that you know what it means, try it again," he suggests.

You read it again, your pronunciation still off but when you finish J.A.R.V.I.S charges you for eight words. Loki laughs and you look at him annoyed, "Great, thanks. That was annoyingly useless."

"I thought it was funny," he smiles. "And it wasn't useless. Now we know that it only works if you know what you are saying."

"You're an ass," you tell him.

"Y/N, fifty cents has been deducted from-" the program repeats.

"You owe me $4.50," you cross your arms and lean back on the couch.

He waves his hand and a five dollar bill appears between his fingers. He hands it to you, "I'm sure you'll use the other word soon enough. I want to try one more thing."

"I don't think I trust you anymore," you say, putting the money in your pocket.

"I didn't think you trusted me in the first place," he says.

"I... yea, that's a good point," you tell him.

"Here," he conjures a small notepad and pen before handing them to you.

"Where do you keep this stuff?" you ask looking at the objects.

"A pocket dimension," he explains.

"Right, sure, super normal," you laugh. "What the hell am I doing with this?"

"Y/N, fifty cents has been deducted from your upcoming-"

You groan and put your hand over your face.

Loki smiles and says, "I honesty thought you would keep those fifty cents a few seconds longer."

"You know, no one likes you right," you tell him in response.

"And I am truly devastated by that," he says, putting his hand over his heart.

"Whatever," you roll your eyes. "What do you want me to do with this?" You hold up the pen and notepad.

"I'm looking for a loophole," he says. "Go ahead, write some of your favorites."

You sigh and write a word but nothing happens. You write another and still nothing.

"Interesting," he says then J.A.R.V.I.S activates. "What did you do?" You hold up the notepad and he smirks as he read it. "Well now that's rude," he says, shaking his head.

"It's accurate," you smile then cross out what you wrote.

"Do you eat pizza?" you ask.

Loki looks up from the book he is reading as he stands in front of the bookcase. "What?"

"Pizza," you repeat.

"Yes, why?" he furrows his brow.

"Its 8:30, I'm ordering food," you tell him. "I came here right after work so I missed dinner."

"No," he says and goes back to his book.

"What do you mean, no?" you ask, looking up from your favorite delivery app.

"I've heard humans are like stray animals, if you feed them, they return," he says.

You laugh, "First off, who told you that? And Secondly, if I'm ordering the food, technically that would make you the pet I'm feeding."

He sighs but doesn't argue, putting another book in the pile of what you imagine are useless books.

"What do you want on it?" you ask him. "Pepperoni, veggies, or are you one of those weird pineapple people?"

"Cheese is fine," he mumbles.

"One cheese pizza it is," you say, ordering from a place nearby. "It'll be here in half an hour," you tell him.

"Wonderful," he says without a smile. "I was so hoping you would be here all night."

"You can always tell me to leave," you say getting up from the couch.

He looks over at you and says, "I could but I won't."

You sit back down, "Okay, I really need to ask... why are you doing this?"

"I'm bored," he answers with a shrug.

"You said that before," you tell him.

"Because that is the answer," he insists but for some reason you don't believe him. You feel like there is more to it but you can't figure it out.

"I thought you were supposed to be good at lying, being the God of Lies and whatever," you say.

"I am the God of Lies and Mischief, not whatever," he corrects you. "And I am not lying. Why else would I want to help you?"

"Because you like me?" you smile and he scoffs. "You have to admit, I'm pretty awesome."

"I do not," he says but you see a hint of a smile on his lips. "Now, will you please be quiet and let me think."

"Can do," you give him a thumbs up.

You put the pizza box on the coffee table and he sits next to you. "You owe me for half," you say. Before you can tell him how much it is he flicks his wrist and a brown leather wallet appears in his hand. He opens it, takes out a twenty dollar bill and gives it to you. "Wait," you say before he makes it vanish again. "Is that Thor's wallet?"

"Hmm," he opens it. "It would appear so."

"He's been looking for that for like a week," you laugh.

"I'm aware of that," Loki responds.

"Of course you are," you shake your head.

"Do you want to money or not?" he reaches to take the bill back from you.

You pull it away from him and put it in your pocket. "I'm going broke from this fucking thing," you tell him as J.A.R.V.I.S activates again.

"Ah damnit, I forgot to ask for plates," you say, ignoring J.A.R.V.I.S. Loki holds out his hand and two plates appear. "I've got to admit, you are pretty useful," you tell him. He smiles but then you add, "You would be more useful if you could fix my stupid problem though."

"I already told you the easy way is to just stop swearing," he takes a slice.

"That's no fun though," you tell him. "Plus, I really don't want Steve to win."

"What do you mean?" he asks.

You shrug, "Sometimes I do it more when he's around cause I know how much it bothers him."

He laughs, "I can appreciate that type of attitude."

"I thought you might," you smile. "So any progress with the massive pile of books or am I fucked?"

He looks up mid-bite and J.A.R.V.I.S goes off again. "I have not given up yet," he tells you but his attention is focused on the screen that popped up. "Do that again," he says. You sigh, and he flicks his wrist, putting another five dollar bill on the table between you.

"Fuck," you say and the screen appears again with J.A.R.V.I.S 's announcement.

"I'm sorry, the total says $47," he sounds shocked and you cringe. "I thought you said they only turned it on at noon."

"Yea," you take a bite of your pizza.

"You have said 94 swear words since noon," he says.

"Apparently," you shrug but he continues to look at you so you put your food down on the table. "When Steve and Tony first told me about it I was kinda pissed," you admit. "I might have lost a few bucks before I left Tony's office."

He tries not to laugh, keeping his hand over his mouth while you talk.

"Then I went back to my office to try out a few things," you tell him.

"Like what?" he asks.

You take a list out of your pocket and hand it to him. "What counts and what doesn't," you say. "Some words only count in a specific context so there's that."

"That still doesn't account for all of this," he says.

You shake your head, "I wanted to see how far it reached outside of the Tower." You sigh, "It's about half a block in all directions."

He laughs, "I imagine you were quite a sight trying to figure that out."

You laugh too, "You would think so but this is New York. I don't think anyone noticed the weird woman cursing every few feet, followed around by a hologram yelling at her."

"This city truly is very odd," he agrees.

"And yet, you still tried to take it over a few years ago," you shrug and take a bite of pizza.

"Technically, I was trying to take over your whole planet," he reminds you.

"That's not better," you tell him and he shrugs.

"I found a few spells I would like to try when we finish eating," he changes the topic a moment later.

"Think one of them will work?" you ask hopefully.

"I certainly hope so," he says. "Of course, I could accidently turn you into a frog if something goes wrong."

"That's not funny," you tell him.

"I wasn't joking," he smirks.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-ofthe-pages @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv

[bueckers-sturniolo]

the alchemy.

paige x fem!teammate! reader

word count: 2k!

warnings: uhhh, cursing? literally one suggestive-ish comment, if i think of anymore ill come back and lyk!

authors note: HIIII! this is my first time ever writing anything whatsoever, and i can’t tell if i genuinely enjoy or really hate this. you gotta start somewhere though, right? 🤔🤔🤔

go read part two here!

this happens once every few lifetimes; these chemicals hit me like white wine…

you and paige were inseparable. it didn’t go unnoticed by fans, not by any means. you were a year younger than paige, you started playing for uconn her sophomore year. as soon as this was announced, paige followed you on everything, immediately commenting on any post the uconn instagram page made about you, commenting something along the lines of just saying your name in all caps with a bunch of emojis, or even, when she was feeling bold, “Theres our girl! 🤩🙌 (or, ‘my girl’ if she was feeling silly that day),” and even on your own, individual posts about yourself, she’d like and comment some form of encouragement or a subtle compliment just to hype you up, as she does the rest of the team.

she couldn’t deny her nearly unbearable attraction toward the minute she first had laid eyes on you. even if it was over a tiny screen. the first time she saw you was when geno had shown the team videos of you playing and explained to them who you are, where you’re from, what position you play, and all other things they should know. you were around 5’10, and you were a point guard. you had gotten a scholarship to uconn, and obviously, you took it up. the first time paige physically saw you play, she knew you two would become close. not only working together on the court, during games and practices, but also, off of the court.

and you guys did. by the time the season started, you were sure you guys were unstoppable. every practice, you guys were fully locked in, becoming an outstanding duo together. that is, until, she got a tibial plateau fracture. she sat out a whopping 19 games after her surgery, and it was sad to see. she was such a powerful player, and now one of your best friends. games and practices didn’t feel nearly as good without her, but she made you promise that you’d work everyday to improve your already very strong talent, to play for ‘the both of you,’ as she said. she’d come to practices, games, and even just to your personal training sessions to provide some form of support.

what if I told you I’m back? the hospital was a drag, worst sleep that I ever had, I circled you on a map; I havent come around in so long, but im coming back so strong.

as soon as paige was cleared by doctors to begin playing again, she worked several hours, every single day. she came back as a fucking beast. since the day she got cleared and started working her ass off, she earned the nickname ‘sniper’ from you. your nickname for her was ‘killer,’ which, is kinda where she got the idea for sniper. you both were very powerful point guards. every day since she came back, you were amazed by just how hard she was working to get back up to her already impressive level of skill. and as time went on, she got even better than before. from the wise words of your guys’ coach, geno, she literally ‘came back better than she was when she was named player of the year.’

so when I touch down, call the amateurs and cut ‘em from the team, ditch the clowns, get the crown. baby, im the one to beat. cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

one night, after a practice, you guys are sitting on your couch, scrolling on your phones in the living room of your apartment. she was over there often. you didn’t live in a dorm, but she did, so this is where you typically hung out. you didn’t get a dorm, for mainly one reason, living on campus is expensive. you personally thought that if you were gonna pay so much to live somewhere, might as well be somewhere bigger than the dorms at uconn. your parents somehow agreed, and helped you through paying for it your first few years. you’re now a junior, and paige is a senior. though, she was technically going into her junior year of playing basketball, but it was her last year as a uconn ‘student.’ over the past several months, it’s been…. flirty, to say the least. you’ve always been not ‘just friends,’ but, you never talked about it. it was just ‘normal’ to you guys. you had talked about to kk once, and the conversation didn’t really help. at all. not in the fucking slightest.

“well, i mean… yeah, we all notice it. she just…. acts so different around you…? it’s not a bad difference, per se… it’s just like, why the fuck is she so nice to you? she’s constantly like… on her knees praising you. it’s crazy, lowkey. but none of us wanna say that, so we kinda just have accepted it all season.” kk says, finally looking up from her phone at me, sitting on the edge of her bed, giving her a ‘please help me’ look.

i stare at her for a few seconds, then sigh. is it actually different? does she really do that, or is kk just exaggerating, like she always does?

“kk, i don’t- i don’t know, dude. i don’t notice it. it’s just- like-“ kk interrupts me, knowing i couldn’t find the words to explain what i was feeling, “normal to you?”

i nod, putting my face in my hands and letting out another sigh. “yeah, i get that. but, also… like, how do you not notice it? it’s like- remember that guy she said she had a crush on, like- 7 months ago or some shit?” she said, sighing.

“yeah, why?” i say, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion on where the fuck she could possibly be going with this.

“she literally flirted with you more than she flirted with him. then, she rejected him, and said there was ‘no reason behind it….’ is that not suspiscious to you? in that one picture of you guys and the weird ass dude she apparently liked, she’s leaning closer to you than she is him? does that not even slightly spark a tad bit of suspiscion?” kk says, getting frustrated that im not seeing her point here.

“i mean- no? i didn’t even notice it, kk.” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “exactly my point,” kk says, sitting up to really try to get her point across. “she acts like she’s in love with you, and heaven forbid you notice it even slightly. i could name so many things that just, like- we have all noticed, and paige knows we’ve noticed. like, that time that one bitch was pushing you on the court the entire game, and paige eventually got pissed off and pushed her back off of you, then got a fucking technical foul over it…? or, how about when she gets drunk, she literally is all over you. like, hugging you, holding you, falling asleep on the couch with you literally on top of her? is that not somehow making you just use that little brain in your head?” kk says, and i just stare in thought. maybe she was right. maybe it is more than a close friendship.

you snap out of your thoughts as paige says your name, looking over at her. “yeah?” you say, trying to seem cool.

“are you okay? you just spaced out for like…. 10 minutes…” paige says, turning her phone off sitting her it down on her chest. “oh, yeah,” I say, chuckling. that’s fucking embarrassing, you thought. but why wouldn’t she notice it? she notices everything about you.

“y’know… you did really good today,” paige says smiling at you. you smile too, looking down at your hands, “thanks. you literally always do good, so. no point in boosting your ego any more than it already is.” you say, looking back up to meet her gaze.

“i call you killer for a reason, you know that, right? you’re fucking phenomenal.” and she meant it. you were a goddess, in her eyes. if there was any person closest to heaven on this earth. it’s you. everything about you. she couldn’t get enough of you, and if it was up to her, she’d show you just how perfect you are to her. you smile, shaking your head in disbelief. “you’re insane.”

“im literally complimenting you, idiot- how does this make me insane,” paige says, laughing. you shrug, shaking your head. “you know, you’re my bestfriend, right? like, the best, best-friend i’ve ever had? ” paige says, after a few seconds of silence. you look back up, your gaze softening, your big grin also softening into a sweet smile. kk was right, you thought. you knew what that was. you knew what she meant. she is in love.

hey, you. what if I told you we’re cool? that child’s play back in school is forgiven under my rule. i havent come around in so long, but I’m making a come-back to where I belong.

you sit in your room in silence, staring at the ceiling. you keep replaying things in your mind, things she’s said. things she’s done. you knew you liked girls, you knew you liked paige. but, at what cost? did your whole friendship form from the attraction you guys had from the start? was this random to her? were you guys ever going to talk about it? this whole situation is ridiculous. right now, paige is visiting her family in minnesota. you’ve met them before, and you loved her little brother, drew, like your own brother. he was precious to you. but, this time you didn’t go, you had to stay back and practice. which, sounds ridiculous to paige given that you’re already the best player in the world to her. but, you knew you’d been slacking on practicing and certain skills you were supposed to be good at. you didn’t want to let her down. or the team, of course. but, paige specifically.

these bloakes warm the benches, we’ve been on a winning streak. (s)he jokes that it’s heroin but this time with an ‘e.’

today, you guys had a game. you were always pretty hard on yourself, but, today was worse. paige noticed this, quickly. as she always does. right before halftime, you shoot a three. you make it, but, it still was kinda sloppy. not all of your shots were sloppy, of course. but, today you felt like shit and were on your period. you didn’t feel great, and you were pissed off that the girl guarding you was on your ass all damn game. the girl in question was no other than kate martin, who was always on your ass specifically, when you guys played iowa. it was infuriating, and not to mention that you kept getting fouls called on you by a ref who clearly doesn’t realize that kate won’t stay off of your case. as soon as half-time hits, you walk over to the bench, muttering a ‘holy fucking shit’ under your breath. you sit down, paige immediately following after you, sitting beside you.

“hey, killer…. it’s okay, i promise. you’re doing so, so good.” paige says, leaning closer to you trying to reassure you in a soft, gentle tone.

“doesnt feel like it.” you say, grumpily, grabbing your water and taking a drink of it. “i know, but hey,” she says, smiling. “you’re fuckin’ killing it. if it makes you feel any better, you scored and knocked her down because of how close she was to you, maybe she’ll back off. but…” she says, pausing. “do not get a tech because of her.” you look over at her, slowly nodding. “yeah, im trying. but, the next time she gets in my face, i’m knocking her to the fucking ground again.” you say, quietly. paige smiles, “no being too aggressive… i mean, yes, be aggressive. but, no techs.”

“yeah, yeah. okay, idiot face. i’ll try.” you say and paige smiles wider, shaking her head.

as the game continues, we’re up by a solid two points. youre now in the last 45 seconds of the game. iowa has the ball, clark scores a 3 on paige. of fucking course, you think.

kk gets the rebound, and we get the ball, finally. with now only 30 seconds left, you’re panicking. you’re losing by one damn point. geno calls a time out out to the ref, the ref granting him this and you all huddle over. paige leans over to you, mumbling a, “you’ve got this, killer. im leaving this up to you. you won’t let me down.” you smile, nodding. she smiles at you for a few seconds. she is so whipped, and it’s obvious. you’re addicting. you’re like heroin, but with a fucking ‘e,’ paige thinks.

shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads. beer sticking to the floor, cheers chanted, cause they said, “there was no chance, tryna be the greatest in the league.” where’s the trophy? (s)he just comes runnin’ over to me.

as the game resumes, the ball is passed to paige. 15 seconds. the time is ticking, so, so fast. paige does a pump fake, immediately passing the ball to you. you catch it, turning slightly so you can dribble around martin, who’s still on your ass. you nearly lose the ball. you’re wasting too much time time, you think. you glance up at the clock. 5 seconds. you try to think fast, then quickly preform a fake pass to paige, then as soon as kate turns her attention toward paige, you shoot directly behind the point the three-point line, and you make it. the buzzer sounds. you look over at the score counters, wondering if it’s able to be counted. they announce it is, and you feel like you’ve never been happier than in that damn moment. your entire team is screaming, all of the fans in the bleachers standing up and cheering. you place your hands on your knees, leaning down and panting while smiling. that’s when you see paige, her shirt is lifted up so her stomach is showing, still cheering. smiling ear to ear, she suddenly runs over to you from across the court. she hugs you, picking you up and spinning you around.

this type of shit only happens once every few lifetimes. who are you to deny your love for her any longer? who are you to fight the general chemistry between you two? who are you to fight the alchemy?

a/n: RAHHHHHH I HOPE YOU LOVED IT IM SORRY IF IT SUCKS ASS!!!! IF YOURE READING THIS RN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

[heavenbarnes]

Million Dollar Baby

Art Donaldson x Fem Reader

Warnings/Contains: this is essentially a series of vignettes, at this point you’re the duncan-donaldson sugar baby, swearing, effective cheating (tashi approved), mild exhibitionism, face slapping (not with hands), unprotected sex, reader is pretty submissive, thee slightest tashi x reader, patrick mention.

Part one

it’s that part two to “i wanna make it (so badly)” that i kept harping on about! just wanted to prove to you all i could make good on something! enjoy! i still crave this man!

Born under a lucky star.

Rabbits foot. Horse shoe. Triple sevens. Four-leaf clover.

Art Donaldson plays tennis very well.

When you're around?

He's better.

O2 Arena, London, England. ATP men's singles finals.

Naturally the only way you'd ever get close to something like this was on her invitation.

Tashi had invited you.

"I beg your pardon?"

"We'll cover your flights and accommodation- it's important that you're there."

Yes, because you were sure you could sweet talk your way into a lesson with Lily at Buckingham Palace.

Obviously, obviously it wasn't about your silly little tennis lessons these days. But that was the front.

Rich neighbourhood, nosey neighbourhood.

"Tashi, I couldn't help but notice Art's Jeep drive past me as I left Pilates. Just who was that pretty young thing in his passenger seat?"

"She's Lily's tennis coach, he drops her off when she's had to stay late."

Yeah,

yeah.

Drops you off because your legs aren't their best when they've been over his shoulders for an hour.

It was a pretty good front.

So you found yourself courtside in a Lacoste skirt you'd never imagine owning. That's why you didn't own it, Tashi had left it on your bed among other items of clothing she expected to see you in.

Dress-up doll.

Her plaything.

Pulled out of your thoughts by the chorus of cheer, it was all directed to the movement you could just and only see out the corner of your eye.

Art Donaldson took the court with a kind of swagger that made your thighs tense under expensive material. His eyes took to the stands- sweeping over adoring eyes looking back at him.

And then he came to rest.

You could tell he looked at Tashi first, the way his shoulders straightened and the grip on his racquet became even tighter.

Miracle it didn't snap.

Then you felt him look at you, his eyes softened and the corner of his mouth turned up.

A smug smirk as he ran his tongue along his teeth.

And you began to think back on everything that lead you here.

-

You had found yourself in many precarious situations with Art.

And you were acutely aware of the fact you hadn't seen it.

You'd felt it- felt it against your thigh, the heat of your cunt,

fuck, you'd even felt it against the sole of your foot.

Ruined numerous pairs of Calvin Klein's in the process.

But you'd never seen it.

And it wasn't a topic of contention, it wasn't a 'you' thing per se.

It was actually the fact that Art about blacks out every time you make him cum, and that's through a good few layers of clothing.

The thought of getting it out and laying it against your bare skin? Putting it in your mouth? Putting it inside-

Even the the idea of it makes his eyes water. Blessing and a curse, really.

On one hand, he's guaranteed a mind-blowing orgasm.

On the other, it might only last a few seconds.

You were just happy to be there.

Art could give you everything or give you nothing and you'd lap it up every time.

Good girl.

Art looked good like this, he always looked good but there was something about this.

Sat on the couch, thighs spread, large hands balled up on his knees. When you were in this position- on your own knees before him, with reverence- he looked good.

He looked all consuming.

If you asked him, it wasn't a sight Art was used to, something something role reversal.

Your hands ran along the coarse hairs of his legs, ever-so-slightly getting closer to the bottom of his shorts.

(Post-tennis, still a little sweaty- heavy musk if you really got your face in there)

"We'll go as slow as you need, Art."

However he wants it, whenever he wants it.

Quarter to midnight on Tuesday, you were meant to be doing an ungodly load of laundry tonight. But then he'd looked at you, then he'd told you he 'needed' you.

Turns out whatever he wants looks a lot like what you want.

Obedience in spades.

He stopped you before your hands could go any further, opting to reach under the waistband himself. You were all the better for it, too focused on not giving up the extent of your excitement.

Was it weird to say you'd spent a lot of time imaging what his cock looked like?

Probably.

You reasoned it with the fact you knew Art spent a lot of time thinking about what happens under your pretty little tennis skirts. That and he'd seen it more times than you could count, these days.

Things always seem to go his way.

Your breath caught in your throat when Art hooked his thumb around the waistband, stretching the elastic so he could get it out.

Of course, of course it was as pretty as the rest of him.

Flushed pink at the tip, pale and creamy down the length of it. Kind of thing you need to get your lips around.

Banked for another day.

One hand cradling the back of your head, the other wrapped around the base- Art slapped his cock once, twice on your outstretched tongue.

"A-ahh, f-uck- okay-"

Nice and slow- can't have him blowing the top off just yet.

He couldn't really say you were helping the point. Sitting there, sitting pretty, primed and ready for whatever he wants next.

The sight along was enough material to tug his cock to for the rest of his life.

Let alone being faced with it.

Which is why he did just that- tugged his cock to it.

Long fingers wrapped around a long cock, twisting along the length of it, rolling the palm over the head. Sticky wetness catching in the centre of his palm as he drags it back along the shaft.

Your tongue stayed permanently outstretched, allowing him to slap the weeping tip right on it. If it wasn't your tongue, it was your cheek- wherever he could gain purchase with your skin without tipping himself over the edge.

Yet.

Eventually, Art came in filthy hot ropes across your face and the most minimal amount actually made it in your mouth.

Majority of it was painted across your cheeks, drawn up and sweet under your shining eyes. Bright smile stretched across your face beneath pearly little drops.

Pretty girl-

perfect girl.

-

"I'm sorry- I just need- oh, oh god- just need-"

Incoherent.

A bleary-eyed, incoherent Art.

Chest pressed tight to your back, shorts around his thighs- your little skirt bunched up tight in his fist.

"I need this- I need this- y'so good to me- I need this-"

Yeah, seems like it.

You'd only managed 15 minutes on the court before it'd come to this. Art had thrown his racquet to the wind and ushered you around the side of their changing shed- the same one where he first,

You know?

Yeah.

You'd actually headed for the door but he couldn't wait that long, pulled you between the wall and the tall fence that circled the court. You were both nestled in beneath an Arabian Gingerbread Palm of sorts- naturally.

Art had slipped your underwear to the side and mounted you like a fucking dog.

Desperate.

The sound of his taut thighs slapping against yours was fucking ludicrous, the sight would’ve managed something worse.

He had a look across his face that said he knew this was pathetic- that there was no way he should’ve been rutting into you in broad fucking daylight.

But it’s not like you could see that look, not when his face was pressed into your neck.

“Ohh, you just- you just feel so good.”

Was he crying?

You looped an arm around the back of his head, slowly stroking your nails against his scalp as you struggled to keep yourself from buckling under the pressure.

Your other arm stretched out in front of you, palm braced on the wall as Art continued the relentless piston of his hips.

Through tears even.

“Feels so good, Art- making me feel so fucking good- just rub my clit, touch me a little.”

In an instant, his fingers were under the front of your skirt as he rubbed haphazard circles around the apex of your cunt.

“Like this? You like this? Tell me I’m doing a good job, please.”

Jesus Christ.

“Yes- doing a good job, you always do so good- gonna’ make me cum.”

And like you’d said the magic word, Art was going rigid. Hips slamming into you with a couple brutal and unyielding thrusts, less precision than you were used to with him.

Til’ he was dripping out of you.

His fingers kept going.

Until your face was pressed was pressed against the changing shed wall, sure to leave a lovely pattern of stucco on your skin.

Until you were babbling and canting your hips back onto his hand as drool ran down the side of your cheek.

Until you even realised that he’d dropped to his knees and was running his tongue through your cunt from the back, massive hands splitting your cheeks.

You reached a hand back to grip his hair, pulling his face even further into the sodden lips of your pussy as you fucked yourself back onto his tongue.

“That’s it- lick my cunt, Art. See how good you taste?”

Your ears stopped ringing long enough for you to hear it.

He makes that noise when he cums.

Again.

Tashi watched you both drag your feet back into the house- a sheen of sweat over you both that could’ve looked post-tennis.

To anyone else but her.

She let you pass without issue, but a fine hand pressed to Art’s chest as he tried to follow you to the showers.

“If I ever see you cum before her again, there will be trouble. Understood?”

There was no use explaining that you didn’t mind, that you kind of liked when you riled him up- made him lose control.

That he probably deserved to feel good.

Instead, you heard him murmur an apology before he finally got you under the monsoon shower head in the enormous guest bathroom.

Three more good ones on his tongue, just for good measure.

-

It was a miracle the Donaldson-Duncan mantelpiece didn't crumble under the immense weight of success.

Trophy, after trophy, after photo, after-

"Did Tashi meet Obama?"

Art chuckles over your shoulder as he watches you cradle the photo, eyes wide with admiration. Devotion?

"She did, he invited her to the White House the year before we got engaged."

"Your invite get lost in the mail?"

"It wasn't about me."

Is anything ever about him?

As you continued your impassioned scan of their family treasures, you came to a complete stop at a 5x7 frame.

"Is this a young Art Donaldson?"

You could feel his eyes on you as you lifted the frame with the same gentle touch as you'd lent to Tashi's photo.

This time, your fingers gingerly brushed over the glass- almost as if you could feel the crop of golden curls beneath your fingertips.

"You've never seen any of my earlier games? Junior doubles at the US Open?"

Taking your eyes off a very-pretty-young Art, you threw him a look that said something like 'be so serious.'

"No, I wasn't much for watching tennis as a- what? Six year old?"

Oh.

That's right.

It was impossible for Art to forget the elephant in the room- call him a dirty old man but Art was always thinking about the pretty young thing that he liked best in his lap.

But sometimes he forgot.

"Well, that's me the day Patrick and I won."

"Who's Patrick?"

Oh.

And just like that he's chubbing up in his pants.

Art Donaldson currently exists in a space and time where he has something that Patrick doesn't.

And you're none the fucking wiser.

How could you be? You're still enamoured with the shaggy golden curls and the unspoken pull of a backwards cap.

"Yeah, you would've driven me wild back in the day."

There's a wry smile that catches on the corner of his mouth, right at the same moment he takes the photo from you. You're forced back to reality, present day-

The one where Art's a few years older but still as devastatingly handsome.

"Would've?"

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, feeling a firm chest pressing against your shoulder blades. Feeling crowded.

Feeling caught.

"As if I don't already."

Art spends the evening reminding you of your place.

That, despite the age between you, he's still the one that runs rings.

-

Contrary to popular belief, Art Donaldson has bad days.

Unfortunately for just about everyone in the O2 Arena, he chose today.

Well, the fates decided on today.

As he thrashed his racquet through the air, you could've sworn you heard the 'woosh' it was sure to have made from all the way up here.

Tense, you were slumped in your seat as you couldn't escape the voice in your head-

the one that was telling you your luck had run out.

The one that still sounds a lot like Tashi Duncan.

"COME ON!"

Tashi's voice actually sounded from beside you, making you jump out of your skin.

Naturally, you began searching for Art- searching for something to do, someway to fix this. What was left for you if you couldn't be lucky.

Rabbits foot. Horse shoe. Triple sevens. Four-leaf clover.

Nowhere to be found- but you found Art, found his eyes.

Looking at you.

Pleading with you.

Come on.

There was that pathetic little gaze you'd come to know. When he wanted something, when he needed something.

Art Donaldson always gets what he wants.

You jumped a little when you felt Tashi's hand rest on your knee where it crossed over the other. Perfect manicure drumming against your kneecap, gripping once.

Gripping twice.

Gently, prying it away from the other till they were side by side.

Thighs being forced apart.

Suddenly acutely aware that Art's eyes weren't on your face anymore.

They were on Tashi's hand.

Acutely aware that, among all the pretty things she'd laid out on your bed this morning, there wasn't a pair of panties among them.

That same perfect manicure between your spread thighs, patting you once, twice- right where her husband had made a home.

Under a lucky star.

Art Donaldson had a penchant for getting what he wants.

With an unmatched performance, the arena was turned on its head. Neon green blitz across the court, landing right where he wanted it to.

The crowd cheered his name to a tune only he knew;

How to be a winner.

All guts, all glory.

The deafening commotion chewed you up but it was Art that spat you out. Amongst the noise, the fury, you found him stood staring right at you.

Expectantly.

The weight of responsibility on your chest. Your luck hadn't run out, it was only just the beginning.

To the victor go the spoils.

Somewhere, a rabbit was missing it's foot.

[starvity]

— ☆ zb1 reacting to you crying after an argument

gn!reader x zb1 (ot9)

genre: angst turning into fluff // warnings: arguments and crying obviously, shouting

author’s note: thank you for requesting anonie <3 (★ω★)/ [requested♡]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ jiwoong

after an argument, you two would need your time by yourselves before approaching the problem. jiwoong withdraws in the kitchen, calming himself down and gathering his thoughts before heading to your shared room. before opening the door he hears a faint sound of your sobs and he sighs to himself. he enters the bedroom and notices you sitting on the edge of the bed, back turned to him. jiwoong approches you quietly, wraps his arms around your torso and strokes your shoulders. with reassuring words and apologies, he calms you down in order to have a serious talk together.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ zhang hao

zhang hao is petty and would always want to have the last word. you guys would speak relatively loud (because hao is originally loud) but not to the point of yelling at you. every time you would try to finish the argument because the bickering was getting long and tiring, he would always bring something up and add fuel to the fire. you were trying to avoid arguing some more and declares that you were heading to the room to rest. hao apparently didn’t want to finish this later and he grabs your arm to make you turn around, while shouting your name rather loudly. you can’t help the tears rolling down your cheeks as you look at him. his eyes soften as he takes you in his arms, constantly cursing himself for making you cry. will pamper you for the rest of the night as an apology.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ hanbin

100% the type to cry with you. hanbin is an empath and the argument most definitely occured just because you were mad or sad at something so he became sad too and since you were both sensitive now, the smallest disagreement caused conflict. would want to treat the problem immediately. when he realises that you will start yelling and rambling very soon, he suggests for you two to calm down and settle on the couch to talk. the open heart conversation made you cry and hanbin followed soon after, both overly apologising for hurting each other. throughout the conversation you notice how softly he looks at you and how attentive he is to your body language. "tell me the truth" he says when he notices your eyes avoiding his and "it’s okay, i’m here" when he feels your fingers anxiously play with his. you definitely take a power nap together after, exhausted from all the tears.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ matthew

you hear the door opening followed by a loud thud as a bag drops to the floor; matthew is back from the gym. he had stayed there for a relatively long time today, probably to relieve stress after you two had an argument this morning. you had assured him through texts that you were fine but your puffy nose and red cheeks can't hide the fact that you had been crying the entire afternoon. after you hid your tissues under your pillow, you watch him as he slightly opens the door. matthew immediately notices your sad face and whines, rushing to your side. he laughs nervously, engulfing you in a hug and leaving pecks all over your face. "you shouldn't lie to me", he apologizes over and over again as he tickles you to try to set a happier mood.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ taerae

it was never taerae's intention to raise his voice at you but he sometimes can't control how loud it is. you had been listening to him as he sits in front of the bedroom door that you had closed. apologizing, blaming himself, he had tried everything to get you to open the door for him and despite how much you want to hug him, you don't want him to see you in this state. he hears your sobs and he once again gets mad at himself. suddenly, taerae rests his back against the door and starts singing. you take a moment to calm down with his soft voice and finally open the door. he immediately wraps his arms around your waist, his face diving into the crook of your neck. the night is filled with sorry’s and i love you’s as he lulls you to sleep.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ricky

ricky spots you quietly crying on the couch after you had a small argument in his room an hour ago and he is unsure of how to treat the problem and how to comfort you. he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen and, without a word, hands it to you. while you quietly take a sip, he grabs a tissue from the coffee table, wiping your tears with a soft smile on his face. you pucker your lips, both as a sign of "i acknowledge this as an apology" and as a "i’m not mad at you anymore" and he giddily places a peck on your lips, then your nose and eventually all over your face. "i’m sorry" you two mutter at the exact same time and the coincidence makes you burst out loud, already forgetting about what you were mad about in the first place.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gyuvin

it was hard to hide your tears from gyuvin who has been stuck to your side as soon as the argument toned down a bit. you had probably never seen him this quiet and it makes you think about how hurt he must’ve been. it was your first big fight with gyuvin and you’re still scared about how you’re supposed to solve it. you’re sitting on his lap, hugging, as you both stroke each other’s back. you pull back to look at him and notice his big round and sparkly eyes. he swipes his finger under your eye before the tear can roll down your cheek and you cradle his face in return, placing a small kiss on his forehead.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gunwook

soft touches!! gunwook tries his best to understand and listen to you and he always makes an effort to be a good boyfriend overall. you couldn't help your sobs, feeling a bit embarrassed about how you were soaking his hoodie while crying on his shoulder. when you're done crying and ready to apologise for crying too hard because you were just being too emotional, he stops you. "it's okay to cry, you're all good" gunwook says softly, placing your head back on his shoulder as he glides his fingers through your hair. you end up talking all night about each other's concerns and feelings which definitely reinforced your relationship.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yujin

honestly speaking, he might avoid you at first. teasing and bickering would be a common thing in you and yujin's relationship because you're still young and a bit childish sometimes. however, it was the first time such an intense fight happened. you could both hear each other's sobs as you awkwardly sit on the couch but you were purposely ignoring each other. out of spite? maybe. but out of fear? surely. when the room gets quieter, yujin finally speaks "why are you mad?" he asks bluntly. you glare at him, tears already building up again before he blurts out a "sorry." you pat his head, realising that he is just trying his best to apologise. give him some time and do not take his sometimes clumsy and honest comments to heart, he is still learning :)

[sanakiras]

IN THE DARK CORNERS

PAIRING — kim mingyu x reader | choi seungcheol x reader

WORD COUNT — 2.2k

SYNOPSIS — mingyu used to be your lover. now he has to watch from the sidelines as you’ve moved on to someone else.

TAGS — once again a college au, fem!reader, jealousy, explicit sexual content, voyeurism, pretty much just porn with no plot, semi-public sex, dom!cheol, read at ur own risk !!

mingyu would overall consider himself to be a smart guy.

he never needs to put a lot of effort into his classes to pass them, he’s quick-witted and pays attention to detail. everyone around him has always praised him for his intelligence.

but right now, he feels stupid. he has for a while at this point.

his jaw is clenched as he leans against the wall with a cup of beer in hand. normally he very much enjoys the parties hosted by his friends — today is a different case.

it’s not just anything that’s making him feel this way.

at the other side of the crowded, warm room stands his former teammate choi seungcheol. he was their team captain up until last year, having to resign from the position after suffering a leg injury, and he apparently hasn’t felt the need to return to the football team yet despite his leg being all healed up.

choi seungcheol is a nice guy. he can also be real damn scary if he wants to be.

he’s about two years older than him. mingyu found he was always easy to get along with — until two days ago, when he discovered you out of all people had started dating him.

you. his ex-girlfriend. you broke up with him a while back after a fight he honestly can’t even remember the words nor the cause of. it was bullshit. something that shouldn’t have happened but did.

somehow, he’d let you slip through his fingers. like many people, he failed to realize what he had until it was gone. failed to see the signs he was supposed to see until it was too late. he feels stupid because he’s always so fucking smart — until the one time he wasn’t.

he tried to get you back. you wouldn’t let him.

now all he can do is stare at you from the other side of the room and watch you kiss a guy that isn’t him. you’re all over him, sitting on his thigh, and he’s constantly got his hands on you, arm looped around your waist, fingers rubbing your clothed skin.

wonwoo suddenly comes up to him, nudging him in the side. “are you trying to kill the guy by looking at him?”

“hm?”

“seungcheol. green with envy much?”

mingyu shrugs. “maybe.”

“well, you’d probably be smart to make it less obvious,” wonwoo remarks before leaving, “for your own sake.”

the words leave a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. he wishes he could just stop looking at the two of you, wishes he could just stop thinking about it for a damn second.

he’s certainly not a lightweight, but even he suffers the consequences of taking too much alcohol. his head feels fizzy, and he loses focus for a second, only to realize you and your boyfriend are gone from your places by the couch.

looking around frantically, he suddenly catches the glimpse of the little red dress you’re wearing at the other side of the room — you’re going upstairs with him.

and he finds himself desperately eager to follow you. that’d be so wrong though, wouldn’t it? he’s not some stalker, obviously. he just wants to check things out.

or so he convinces himself.

his brain is against it, his heart has other plans.

his legs seem to have their own will. before he can stop himself, he’s walking up the stairs, cursing to himself when the hallway is somewhat empty — until he hears the noise of something clattering onto the floor two rooms further.

taking a few steps into the direction of where the sound came from, he briefly looks behind him to check whether anyone’s there, proceeding when there isn’t.

the moment he pushes the door open just a bit further, he spies the office supplies carelessly thrown on the floor, his ears catching onto the familiar sound of your soft laughter.

he takes a step forward, detecting motion at the other side of the bookcase. he’s able to hide right behind it, watching you lie down on the wooden surface from the open cracks of the shelves.

the tight dress on your body is hiked up by your boyfriend as his hands roam all over your body, the sounds of your shared kisses making mingyu feel warm, his cheeks flushing, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

he knows how much you love a good make-out session — he also knows you like to speed things up a little when you need to be touched.

he’s frozen in his spot behind the bookcase when he hears you let out those needy whimpers that would turn any man on like crazy.

“shit—i should probably be quiet.” you giggle with your hand half over your mouth while cheol has you pinned underneath him, right on top of the desk.

“i’d love to see you try.” he mutters to you, fingers already hooking on the fabric of your matching lacy, red panties.

the worst part is that mingyu remembers that pair — one of his favorites. you look stunning in that little red set.

but your new boyfriend doesn’t appear to be paying that much attention to your lingerie. you’re both panting, all hot and heavy, clearly not in the mood to take things slow right now.

he sinks down to his knees on the floor, fingers harshly digging into your thighs as he spreads your legs to give him the access he wants, and you so eagerly let him.

“so gorgeous, baby.” cheol whispers to you before burying his lips and nose into the wetness pooling between your legs.

mingyu feels himself growing harder when he hears you cry out, your back arching off the cold desk, his teeth digging into his lower lip.

with your dress pushed up to your upper chest and your panties discarded on the floor, you gasp for air, fingers pulling on his dark strands of hair. you won’t last long if he keeps this up.

the first loud noise escapes you when he suddenly slips his finger into you. “cheol!”

the man between your legs shows his disapproval. “c’mon, baby, keep quiet for me. you want me to keep going, right?”

“yeah, yeah—” you nod almost desperately, “—‘m sorry.”

he cocks his head as if to say, that’s what i thought.

sly fucker.

he’s got you in the palm of his hand though — especially when he dives right back in, eager to see you fall apart while pumping his fingers in and out of you.

mingyu is so lost in the sight that his hand travels down to his belt buckle almost automatically. he’s so rock-hard in his pants that he could cry.

it doesn’t take cheol long to get you so worked up that you’re about to cum — which is exactly when you beg for him to fuck you instead, claiming you just need him inside you.

and your boyfriend happily obliges.

with your legs hoisted over his shoulders, he hovers above your body, watching the way you gasp and whimper when he pushes himself inside you.

“so full, cheol—” you moan once he’s nearly balls deep inside you, biting your lip to keep the noise down.

“you can take a little more though, can’t you, sweetheart?” your boyfriend asks teasingly, the subtle mocking undertone making you shiver. you love it when he’s all dominant and cocky like this, and you love to play into it.

a lazy smile appears on your face. “depends on how hard you give it to me.”

he smirks, biting his plump lip as he picks up the pace. you hold onto him, relishing in the sound of his moans by your ear.

“always so greedy,” cheol muses, eyes shining as he scans your figure, “always wanting more.” he pushes into you with the last syllable, unable to hold down a grin at how breathlessly you gasp.

oh, the guy gives it to you good. something you absolutely deserve — mingyu just wishes it was him giving it to you instead.

he hates it. he hates how pretty you look in his arms, under him. he hates how you both look so fucking perfect. he hates how dirty and perverted he feels.

he hates that the thrill of possibly getting caught makes him harder.

he watches as seungcheol takes you fast and hard, his hand pumping his own cock at the same pace. your body welcomes the muttered sentences of praise; pulling his body as close as physically possible, spreading your legs a little wider, fingers digging into his back a little deeper.

mingyu knows you love your praise just as much as a bit of force, and your boyfriend seems to know it too. he leaves red marks over your body, sucking at your skin, pulling out for a moment to shove his fingers back in instead.

you’re a whiny, moaning mess as three of his long fingers pump in and out of you. “thought i told you to keep it down.”

“fuck—just feels so good, cheol—”

“i know, pretty girl. you’re doing so good.”

god, you’re just so engulfed in your need to be filled up that you’re willing to do anything for the man currently in between your legs, and he fucking knows it.

mingyu is obsessed with the way your cunt sucks in his fingers so easily. he can literally hear how wet you are — cheol’s quick fingers are squelching into your heat, thumb circling over your clit until all you can do is make sweet sounds into his mouth.

it all gets too much, and your hand reaches down to take a hold of his wrist, but his movements don’t falter. it takes less than a minute before you cum on his fingers, desperately clinging onto him. sharp overstimulation hits your body when he pushes his cock into you again, not allowing you to come down from your high.

the feeling makes you go insane. you clench on him as a reflex, and he groans in response because you’re just so damn tight, almost suffocating him.

his big hands are grabbing your waist, basking in the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him. you notice through your bliss that he’s getting more desperate, movement more erratic, kisses sloppier, breathing heavier — how you love seeing him fall apart.

“takin’ me so well.” he smiles, biting his lip as you rake your nails over his abdomen.

“mhm. ‘s all for you, baby.”

he physically can’t not cherish the way you gaze at him so lovingly while getting your back blown out. if anything, it’s a talent. “yeah? such a good girl for me.”

you capture his lips in another kiss, one that’s a little sweeter than before. his hair is soft, the roots of his strands a bit damp from the sweat, but you don’t care.

you’re mewling in your spot on the desk, every other thought you ever had thrown out the window. all you can focus on is cheol fucking you like his life depends on it.

his chest is then pressed up against yours, his one hand on the back of your head, holding you still and close while he gives you hard and deep strokes.

“shit.” he curses, getting closer now that you’re tightening up more.

he’s reaching down to touch your clit again, rubbing the sensitive spot, causing you to buck your hips against his.

“cum with me, cheol.” you beg him, your sharp nails digging into his shoulder blades, which always works well on him — it makes him so utterly weak.

it brings mingyu just as close to his release. he’s so lost in his lust that it almost feels like you’re saying the words to him and not seungcheol, so he lets his back rest against the wall as he gets himself off at the pleasure of watching you.

“i’m so close, baby.” cheol mutters, his thick brows knitting together once he throws his head back in pleasure.

your body shakes as you come undone underneath him, your arms wrapped around his back. your boyfriend can’t hold back any longer when he feels you hit your peak — his hips stutter, eyes squeezed shut as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, muffling his moans.

your secret spectator has to cover his mouth to avoid making any noise. his balls are tightening, sweat beading at the nape of his neck right before he pathetically cums in his pants, some of his release dripping on the floor.

his own chest still heaves as his eyes find the little drops of sweat rolling down cheol’s back, his eyes moving down to the sight of your boyfriend pulling out of you, leaving a trail of his cum seeping out of your pussy.

the sight is enough to make him hard again.

you’re panting in your place on top of the desk, still coming down from your high before your boyfriend speaks up — but his words aren’t directed at you.

“did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

mingyu’s heart drops in his chest. shit, was it that obvious? he thought he did a good job at being relatively quiet.

now he’s left with two options of what to do next. either he owns up to it or gets the fuck out of here.

and he thinks to himself, fuck it. not like the situation could get any worse anyways.

so he steps forward, into the light.

thanks for reading! let me know if u liked it x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[fireflyinks]

I have an idea for a request :) 💗 sorry if this is long but what if hamzah did one of the solo out of character podcasts and then he invited y/n but then the sexual/romantic tension between them so they stop filming to do other stuff (can be the deed if you want to take a smut route or just making out or being cuddly for a fluffy route!) or maybe 🫣 they forget about the camera and accidentally capture stuff on camera

special guest

hamzah x reader smut

contains : smut, oral sex (both giving and receiving), no p in v, use of y/n, cursing, sort of exhibition (they record themselves but don’t post it), munch!hamzah

a/n : I LOVE THIS SM, munch!hamzah is my new favorite thing to write, i’m obsessed. anon you’re literally a genius. thank you so much for the support on all of my hamzah posts, i love you alllll

18+ MINORS DNI

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hamzah and I had been friends for a couple of years. Both of us had YouTube channels and lived near one another so we would hang often. There was an obvious connection between us, but Hamzah nor I were bold enough to point it out. The two of us simply enjoyed dancing around the face that we obviously had mutual feelings for one another.

I sat on my couch, editing my latest video when I felt my phone buzz beside me. I picked it up, reading “hamzah” spread across my screen and a .5 picture I’d taken of him. I swiped right to answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/n. Are you busy?”

I shook my head as if he could see me, “No, what’s up?”

“Well, Martin is busy today and can’t record for our podcast, so I was wondering if you’d want to come record with me. Like a ‘special guest’ type thing?”

I thought for a moment. I hadn’t seen him in a while just because the two of us had busy, and viewers loved it when we made content together. We actually got shipped a lot, but Hamzah always ignored it, and I never brought it up. Part of me was glad that even the fans noticed that there was something between us.

“Yeah, why not? That sounds fun, when do you want me to come over?”

Hamzah took a beat before answering. “You could come over now, and afterwards we could order dinner or something, yeah? You’ll have to come to Martin’s apartment because that’s where we film, it’s not too far from mine. I’ll send you the address.”

“I’m on my way, see ya in a second.”

“Thanks, y/n, drive safe.” He hung up.

My heart fluttered at his last comment.

I went to my room and quickly put on something sort of presentable. The star of my outfit was none other then a small denim miniskirt.

The drive to Martin’s house was only about ten minutes, but it felt like an eternity. I was way more excited about spending time was Hamzah than I should’ve been.

Once I arrived at the apartment, I knocked on the door. I was greeted immediately by Hamzah. I couldn’t help but noticed as he looked me up and down once he’d opened the door, a small grin on his lips.

“Hey!” He said, pulling me into a hug. It surprised me a bit but Hamzah was always very affectionate with me, even as a friend. He’d play with strands of my hair on late nights after filming when we’d sit and talk about pretty much anything, and would always grab my hand when leading me places.

“Hi” I smiled into his shoulder right before he let go.

“I have everything get up in here.” Like clockwork, he took my hand and led me through Martin’s apartment. I looked around, seeing the scenes that had made appearances in many of Hamzah and Martin’s videos.

“So…” He sat down on the couch, motioning for me to sit to his right, “it’s going to real casual, just like it is with Martin. I might ask you a couple questions about your channel, if you want me to.”

I shrugged, “I’m fine with anything, just happy I could help you out.”

Hamzah smiled, handing me Martin’s microphone and looking at the camera. “Well, are you ready?”

I nodded, and he got up and began recording.

“You gotta just sit here for a second awkwardly while the intro music plays.”

A few seconds went by as we tried not to laugh at the silence. I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flicked down to my thighs, exposed by my mini skirt, every few seconds.

“Hey guys, today I’m here with someone who is not Martin.”

Hamzah motioned to me. I lifted my hand and gave the camera small wave.

“Hi there, I’m y/n.”

“Martin decided to skip recording today to go roller skating with Mandy.”

I giggled, “Well, I think they sort of trapped you into recording without them so you wouldn’t third wheel them for once.”

Hamzah rolled his eyes. We went on and on, talking about how much better I am at rolling skating than Hamzah is, how ice skating isn’t real and it’s all just an illusion because neither of us can even stand up on the ice, and after about 40 minutes, somehow the topic of none other than Ice Spice.

“Munch is an absolute banger, but I’ve never met a dude that actually enjoyed eating it.”

Hamzah furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” I went on, “like most of them do it but they don’t like it, which makes it awkward. Like I’m yet to meet a dude that actually gets pleasure out of it too.”

There was a slight pause in the conversation, and I was scared I had made him uncomfortable.

“You’re talking to one right now.”

My cheeks flushed as his comment sunk it. I couldn’t respond, no words would come out of my mouth.

“Sorry,” he looked at me worried, “I totally just made it awkward.”

“Nah,” I shook my head, desperately. My heart thumped as I looked back at him. Maybe I wasn’t delusional about our obvious connection. Why in the world would he make a comment like that if he didn’t mean it in a flirty manner? “it’s okay, really.”

I couldn’t get the thought out of my head. Hamzah’s mouth on my heat, suckling on it like it was his last meal, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I bit my lip. The way he was looking at me showed that he was possibly imagining it too.

He shifted on the couch, looking at me desperately.

“I could show you, if you want.”

I nodded dumbly.

“Please.”

Hamzah leaned in, slowly pressing his lips onto mine. He slowly worked his mouth on mine, growing more and more passionate.

His mouth moved down my body, trailing down my neck. He paused, slipping my shirt and skirt off my body and taking a moment to stare at my breasts.

“God, you’re so beautiful, you know that?” Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “I was so distracted, I couldn’t stop staring at you.”

He rubbed my thighs, looking down at them. It’s like he was mesmerized. “These thighs are so pretty. I couldn’t stop imagining them spread for me.”

Hamzah’s boldness surprised me, but I couldn’t say that I didn’t enjoy his praises. No matter how lewd they were.

“Can I take these off?” He curled his index finger into the band of my panties.

“Yes” I breathed out, shyly.

Hamzah chuckled to himself, “You’re so cute.”

He pulled my panties off of me, spreading my legs and looking down at my aching heat. Leaning down, he slowly kissed my core. I whimpered at the feeling.

“Tell me you want it.”

I bit my lip, looking down at him with pleading eyes. “I want it. I want it so fucking bad, Hamzah.”

Without further discussion, he dove down into my aching heat, swirling his tounge through the folds. I took his hat of his head with shaky hands and ran my fingers through his curls.

He looked up at me for a moment.

“Do you feel good?” He said quickly, wasting no time to get back to his meal.

“Yes! Yes! So good.” I moaned, my legs involuntarily closing in on his head. His hands held them back in place, spread wide for him to have the fullest access.

“You taste so damn good.” He groaned out. It was entertaining, watching how much he genuinely enjoyed this. He moved his mouth like it was his last meal. I’d never felt this much pleasure just from being eaten out, and it was so sweet.

My brain felt all fuzzy from the way his tounge worked through the folds of my heat perfectly, finding all of the sensitive places and causing my legs to shake under his hold.

“Fuck- I’m gonna cum.” I threw my head back, pure pleasure filling my head as I let out breathy moans.

“Go ahead, cum for me. Cum in my mouth, baby.”

I let myself release on his tounge, my body writhing against his working mouth.

After a few seconds, he pulled away, looking up at me with hopeful eyes, almost like he’d expected me to have had a bad experience.

I didn’t. I had the complete opposite; I couldn’t stop thinking about Hamzah’s tounge.

“Fucking wow.” Is all I could manage to get out.

“Was it good?” He asked.

“More than good. That was… can I please return the favor?”

Hamzah was quick to shake his head, “You really don’t have to. I know most girls don’t like to, and I don’t expect anything in return.”

I genuinely couldn’t let myself live knowing that I didn’t repay Hamzah back after he had me seeing stars.

“No, please, I really want to.”

I couldn’t lie, I’d imagined Hamzah’s cock plenty of times. I’d wondered how big it was, what it looked like, how it would feel in my mouth, what he was like in bed, pretty much everything. But now that I might finally get it, I felt more giddy than ever.

Hamzah slowly nodded, “Alright, go ahead.”

I reached down to his jeans, unbuttoning them as he helped me pull them off his legs, followed by his boxers. His member slapped his stomach, and it surprised me just how hard he was solely from eating out.

It was… big to say the least.

I slowly bottomed him out in my mouth, gagging slightly. He groaned, keeping his eyes on me. I bobbed my head, feeling him hit the back of my throat over and over again.

“Fuck, y/n, just like that.”

I continued these motions, occasionally pulling him out of my mouth and leaving small kitten licks on the tip. He was fighting the urge to throw his head back into the sofa, continuing to keep his eyes glued to me. He breathed out shaky praises to me.

“You’re so good at this, fuck. I- I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum in my mouth… please.” I begged, sucking his faster.

He moaned before filling my mouth with his loud. I swallowed it all before taking him out of my mouth, looking up at him shyly.

“Fuck… that was amazing.”

I giggled as we looked at each other for a few moments. It was crazy, the very things I’d been fantasizing about coming true, all because of a podcast episode.

Fuck. A podcast episode.

My eyes darted over to the recording camera, my cheeks flushing. Hamzah was still looking at me, almost in a hypnotic state.

“Hamzah…” I tried to grab his attention, he hummed in response. “The camera…”

His eyes widened as he looked over, coming to the same realization that I had.

“Fuck- sorry.” He got up, pulling his boxers on and walking over to the camera. “I’m deleting all the footage. You can check afterwards if you want. Recording us really wasn’t my intention.”

He was panicking, his fingers fumbling with the cameras buttons.

“Hamzah… relax. It’s okay. You- nevermind.”

Hamzah looks over to me, his eyebrows raised in amusement. “I what?”

“You can keep the recording if you want.” It felt so lewd to say, but I meant it. It was sort of hot, knowing he had that footage of us and could watch it anytime.

He smirked, looking down at the camera and nodding. “Alright… I will.”

I blushed, “Now can we get that food that you promised me?”

Hamzah chuckled, grabbing his phone.

It was strange, a couple of seconds ago we were performing such lewd acts for a camera we’d forgot was recording, and now we were arguing about whether we should get chinese or mexican take out.

[cy-cyborg]

How The Owl House did amputee representation right before Eda ever lost her arm - Disability in Media

[ID: A screenshot of Eda from The Owl House, an old woman with pale skin, very large, grey hair and pointed ears in a red dress. Beside the screenshot on a dark pink background is text that reads "Disability in media, How the Owl House got amputee representation right before eda ever lost her arm." /End ID]

Dana Terrace's The Owl House has some of the best disability rep I’ve seen on a Disney channel show in a long time, with Eda, the main character’s mentor, being one of many stand-out examples.

Plenty of people have discussed how Eda’s curse and the loss of her magic can work as an allegory for disability and how refreshing it is to see a story (especially one aimed at a younger audience) who’s focus is not on her “overcoming” it, but learning to accept it as a part of her and go from there. Eda’s story tackles a lot of subjects that are often mishandled in other examples of disability representation, from the subject of parents who refuse to accept, to glass siblings and much, much more, The Owl House handles all these topics beautifully.

But one thing that dawned on me during my most recent re-watch of The Owl House is how well Eda (and later Lilith) worked as amputee representation, long before Eda actually lost her arm.

One of the side effects of Eda and Lilith’s curse is that sometimes their body parts, mainly their limbs, can fall off. It doesn’t hurt them, and Eda is seen removing them intentionally at multiple times in the series, but they can always be reattached.

[ID: an image of Eda holding her sister Lilith's hand. Lilith is a pale woman with long, black hair, wearing grey clothes. She is looking at her other arm suprised, as her hand is missing. Luz, a Latina girl with short brown hair and a purple hoodie is looking on, smiling. /End ID]

While most likely unintentional, the way the show depicts this with Eda in particular is exactly what I wish more people would do with their prosthetic-using amputee characters.

Eda detaches her limbs, especially her legs, when they’re inconvenient or when she’s relaxing.

[ID: an image of Eda laying on the couch in a bathrobe, her hair in a towel. She has taken her legs off, throwing them to the other side of the seat. /End ID]

The fact that this is mostly played for laughs is actually a good thing in my opinion (though obviously, the show’s overall tone is part of that), as it shows the audience who are mostly children and teens, that in a world of weird and downright scary (from the perspective of the characters) things, this isn't one of them. It’s just a thing she and Lilith can do, and it can even be funny.

[ID: An image of Luz and Eda dressed as pirates. Eda is sitting on the ground, her legs detached and off screen somewhere. /End ID]

It does startle Luz and Lilith on a few occasions, but that’s more because they didn’t know the curse could do that, but once they’re introduced to it, it’s never really brought up as a big deal again.

I’d love to see more amputee characters who do this with their prosthetics. So often media is almost afraid to have amputees take their prosthetics off on camera or on the page. For some folks, our prosthetics are like a part of our bodies, but that doesn’t mean we never take them off. Show your leg amputee flop on the couch and throw their legs across the room. Have them go without on occasion, not because they have to, but because they just don’t feel like putting them on.

Likewise, the owl house creators never shy away from showing Eda when her limbs aren’t all attached. A lot of media, and kid’s shows in particular, will avoid having an amputee character’s stump visible if they ever do take their prosthetics off - treating that part of the character’s body the same way they treat gore or nudity. I’ve talked before how this actually does have a real impact on how kids in particular react to amputees - I’ve legitimately had kids I worked with cry when I took my prosthetics off, then immediately calm down when they see there’s nothing "scary" under my socks. As much as I love How To Train Your Dragon, it’s very guilty of this. Hiccup looses his leg at the end of the first movie, and wakes up with his prosthetic already attached. The Netflix series has a few instances where he has his prosthetic off, but the camera almost always avoids showing it until he can cover it up again, or is super zoomed-out so you wouldn’t be able to “see anything”. To their credit, they do get better with this in the last movie (though it's still always covered), but for the majority of the series, they are very reluctant to have any shots where hiccup’s leg is in view without the prosthetic (unless they’re very far away).

[ID: a screenshot of Hiccup from How To Train Your Dragon 3, a white man with short brown hair, and one leg missing, wearing armour made of black dragon scales and no prosthetic. He is holding onto toothless's head, a black dragon. /End ID]

Ironically, Eda does (permanently) loose an arm at the end of season 2, but I don’t really have much to say about her as amputee representation on that front, since she’s absent for a lot of Season 3, and when we do see her again, everything is so hectic, the story doesn’t really have any time to focus on her missing limb (which is reasonable). I will say, I do appreciate that they kept the amputation when she's in her owl-beast form in the finale, but there's honestly not much more to say about it. We do see her again in the epilogue after she’s had some time to settle into the amputation, wearing a hook prosthetic, but it’s, once again, too quick to really say anything from a representation standpoint. There's a few little nit-picky things I could bring up, like the fact they seemed to change the type on amputation she had (when she looses it, we see the split was very close to the elbow, but in the epilogue she has most of her forearm again) but those read to me more like animation mistakes or an odd prosthetic/clothing designs rather than a representation issue - and as someone who's worked in animation, given the stress the team was under for the finale, I'm not really worried about it. Like I said, it's more nit-picky than anything.

[ID: A screenshot of Eda, her hair tied back and wearing a red robe and a hook for her right hand. /End ID]

Despite all that though, I still think Eda is still good amputee representation, but mostly because of how they depict her curse’s side effects rather than her actual amputation. She’s honestly one of the only characters that I think you could refer to as “amputee coded” (outside of maybe Teen Titan’s Cyborg), and I genuinely wish more creators would treat their actual amputee characters the same way the Owl House treats Eda in that regard.

[risuola]

ENTRY #8 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // You said you love me, I heard it between the lines.

contents: arranged marriage!au, it gets a little steamy, reader discretion is advised — wc. 2556

a/n: longer part, little steam, some more confused fools in love, what else can we want ♡ i kinda enjoy writing the story a little more from satoru's pov, i hope you don't mind! also, the wedding picture that my friend draw for me is here for anyone interested!

series masterlist

You love him.

Well, technically, you didn’t say you love him. You were tidying just next to him, wiping the dust off the shelves and he was on the couch, doing paperwork that might’ve been — and most likely were — partially responsible for his poor mood. He hated paperwork and ironically, Yaga loved giving him a fair share of it — it was fair, he knew that. His missions, his forms to fill but couldn’t Ijichi take care of it–

“We should retake that picture one day,” he heard you muse and he didn’t need to look up to know what picture you had in mind. You had, after all, just one picture together and it was taken forcefully as a proof of your marriage, right after the ceremony. He was in a suit, black and crisp, looking good as always with his glasses — that he didn’t bother taking off for the photo — resting on the bridge of his nose, low enough to show a little bit of his eyes and high enough to hide the lack of amusement he felt that day. You were in front of him, partially exposing your bare back to the camera and holding a bouquet of flowers that someone got you — not him, that’s for sure. As he thought of it, you were looking stunning. Breathtaking, to say the least, in the long white dress, not too plain but definitely not overly embellished. You didn’t need to be dressed in layers of princess-worthy fabrics to look like one. The picture though — it lacked emotion. You were there with him and he was there with you, but you weren’t together on it. You were just both in the frame.

“Why would we?” He asked dryly, growing more and more irritated by the bureaucracy at hand. He was stuck on one of the points, the one he disliked the most because it required him to elaborate on something that didn’t need to be elaborated on. Why would he describe the curses he saw, evaluate their strengths and consider their techniques, when he turned them to dust before they even realized he was there?

“It would be nice to have a wedding picture with some actual love in it, not just a dry, forced pose and stone faces,” you reasoned and your voice was light, it was innocent almost as if you were speaking of something so obviously natural. As if you were not considering exchanging the picture-proof of your arranged marriage into one of real marriage.

“We’re not married for love, do I need to remind you?” Satoru scoffed. He was annoyed. At you, because you were able to make his heart beat in ways he never knew are possible and at himself — for letting that happen. Or for saying what he just said because of course you knew the marriage wasn’t based on love and it didn’t change the fact you just allowed your mouth to slip away words that shouldn’t be slipped. He was annoyed because you shouldn’t feel that way, because he wasn’t ready to hear it, because he’s a coward.

But, instead of getting annoyed, he heard you chuckling. It was an odd point in your marriage. You were closer, the closest you’ve been until now, but the feelings that were undeniably blooming underneath the surface had to force their way through the layer of sarcasm he and you spread out thickly over the course of past weeks. You were still foreign to affection but curiously exploring the topic with each other and Satoru was suffering severe heart palpitations because of it. You seemed to enjoy it though — your smiles and very purposeful touches were enough of a proof of it.

Satoru sometimes wished he could fluster you just as you fluster him and he would give the world to see your face tinted with deep, red blush because of him. He will see you like this one day, but for now, you were still learning to express civil behaviors in the confines of your shared house. You called it a success that fights were much rarer now than at the beginning; perhaps you grew accustomed to the amount of snarkiness and irony or maybe it mellowed down. Maybe the fact that you were spending more and more time together, now working at school side by side, had something to do with the much warmer relation shyly building itself up between you, or maybe it’s because of the long, late night talks you share every night when he’s laying in bed with you.

“Oh, you really should shut up sometimes,” you said and he felt you approaching.

“I should, huh?” He rolled his eyes and smirked, eager to put down the papers and pay his attention to you. His eyes, that first landed on your legs, moved up following the shape of your body until he met your gaze. “And who are you to order me such things?”

“Your wife, Satoru, we’re married, as you probably noticed,” you snapped back, but something in the tone of your voice told him, you’re not as bothered as the bite of your words suggested.

“Married,” he said, humming. His smirk faltered just slightly and for a second, he was silenced by your presence. He couldn’t bring himself to fight against it. “And hating every second of it.” But he’d still reached forward to take your hand.

This time, it's you who rolled eyes but you allowed your fingers to intertwine with his. You sat down next to him, dropping your weight onto the soft, bouncy cushions and positioning yourself in a way to be able to face him. The top of your knee met the side of his thigh and Gojo put the pile of formalities to the side. “You are annoying, you know that, right?”

“I’ve been told,” Satoru said, his mouth twitching into a small smile. “Several times. By you, actually.” He chuckled and shifted a little on the couch. His free arm was rested along the backrest and he leaned his head back, giving you a sideways look. “But I know I am,” he teased with a smirk now fully bloomed on his features. “I’m glad you’re at least acknowledging it.”

“Kinda hard to miss when it’s written all over your face,” you teased him back and he laughed, running his thumb along the side of your hand. Then, he was rubbing small circles onto your skin, grazing over the delicate spots of your wrist.

“Oh? You’ve been paying more attention to me than I thought.”

“You really need to shut up,” you sighed, exhaling slowly in feigned annoyance, but you were clearly amused by his antics and he was growing amused too. Gojo was testing you, seeing how far you were willing to push him. He had every intention of testing your boundaries, pushing your buttons. He was curious, excited even, to see where it could go. You were incredible, Satoru thought, because weeks before he was sure he was going to break you, get you to back off, but you just kept coming at him. He wasn’t complaining.

“But I don’t want to,” he said, his tone teasing as he leaned towards you, bringing his face inches from yours. Your eyes met and the air got a little thicker, a little more warm. “What are you gonna do about it?” His voice was quiet, murmur-like, challenging. He didn’t let go of your wrist or stop the soft circles of his thumb.

“Easy,” you scoffed, but a smile tugged on the corners of your mouth when you leaned in as well. Your head tilted and then, your lips were just breath away from his own. “I’ll shut you myself,” you whispered, right against his face.

Satoru nearly lost it when he felt your breath on his lips. His heart seemed to skip a beat, this wasn’t how he thought this conversation would go, but he wasn’t exactly complaining. He wasn’t supposed to get jealous, to want you, to need you, but now that you were this close, there was no way he was going to let it end here.

He leaned a little closer as well, closing the distance just a bit more. He was practically asking for your lips to meet and the way your voice teased him when you whispered– oh, the man was getting weak. For the first time, he was speechless. His eyes drifted shut, the feel of your lips so close being enough to set him on fire. The silence hung in the air for only a moment before he pulled you to him, his mouth crashing into yours. He wanted to feel you against him as much as he could. One of his hands went to the back of your head and he began to pull you even tighter.

And you purred. Climbing on top of him, straddling his lap and the moment your legs gripped onto his, every thought was lost, every desire was awakened. One of his arms naturally shifted to pull you against his body and the other was in your hair, tangled within the strands. He felt the heat of you on his chest, he felt you on top of him and in his mind, there was no place he wanted you more. Satoru couldn't get enough of you, of being close.

His back was against the couch, he was kissing you roughly, almost desperately as if there was no air on the planet anymore and you were the only saving grace. He had waited so long to do this, wished for it. Every morning he spent looking at your calm, sleeping face he wondered what would you do if he made a move, if he kissed you softly, if he woke you up with his touch.

And now that it was happening.

He didn’t want to waste a single second. Your hands run over his shoulders and brushed through his hair, pulling and tugging them ever so slightly and he shivered from how close to the edge it brought him. Your touch was electric, sending tendrils of pleasure right through his system, filling his veins with something warm and unknown, making him lose himself into the feeling.

Your tongues met, exploring each other and he was focused on the taste of your lips, the sharpness of your teeth closing teasingly on his lower lip from time to time, the sound of your breathing and how soft and smooth your skin was against his own. Your nose was brushing against his every time you shifted your head and each movement made him want more. He felt like he could spend the rest of his life kissing you.

Satoru’s hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer and he leaned forward, pressing himself against you. He had a good bit more muscle than you and he wasn’t afraid to use it if it meant pulling you even closer, leaving no space between. Your body fit with his, the two of you like puzzle pieces fitting together in the perfect spot.

His hands were moving, following the shapes of you, learning them as his fingers were brushing your sides, his thumb sliding along your back. He gripped your waist a little harder and then, his mouth fell to your neck. You whimpered and a small groan escaped his lips as he kissed you there, his lips and tongue making their way to the soft, delicate skin behind your ear and you gasped on air when his teeth grazed the shell of your lobe.

Your fingers tightened on the muscles of his shoulders, searching for a way to ground yourself and you struggled to stay present, when he made it so easy to get lost.

A smile tugged on Gojo’s lips, he felt how hot your cheek was against the side of his head when he peppered tender kisses along the side of your neck. Then, he pulled away from you for a moment, breathing heavily. His eyes flickered over your face, taking in the sight of you before they dropped to your mouth once more. You were so pretty like this, panting and with your lips parted and swollen, red and glistening with saliva. You were so gorgeous with blush spilled over your complexion, with your half-lidded eyes and your arms around him.

His hands were still on your waist, and his lips found yours again — just as hungry and desperate as it was before.

“God,” he breathed, between one kiss and another. His voice was rough and gruff, carried by the heavy breaths and want. “I can’t believe I’m married to you,” he said, his tone full of awe. “Positive.”

He felt your lips curve upwards and your body squirm against him, and that was enough to make him almost lose control over himself. His hand moved from your waist to the hem of your shirt, moving it just enough to get access to the skin beneath it. He kept kissing you and his fingers were shifting from the hem back to your waist, then back again. You were so soft, and his entire body was filled with the urge to explore it. To taste it. To learn it.

He leaned back just slightly, breaking the kiss and you let out a soft sigh. Your cheek was now pressed against his shoulder, your face exposed. He rested his head against yours, his eyes fluttered shut and all he could hear was a mixture of breaths and his own heart.

“We should stop,” he whispered, sighing and you hummed, nuzzling your nose into his neck, kissing him there.

And like that, Satoru melted.

His body relaxed against yours once more. The breath he took was long and shaky, the sensation of your lips on his neck making his brain short circuit. Any thought he’d had of actually stopping threatened to fell to the wayside.

“We should really stop,” he repeated, louder this time, but he wasn’t making any attempts to move you off his lap. His hands gripped you a little more instead. “You’re gonna make me lose control.”

“Isn’t that a tempting thought,” you teased, the softest mischief lining your tone and you gave the side of his neck a little kitten-lick. Satoru groaned when your tongue touched his neck. His hold tightened on you, his fingers digging into your waist.

“Oh god, don’t do that,” he whispered, sounding desperate. His arm came up to brush your hair out of your face and he leaned his head to the side, giving you better access to his neck, despite all of his instincts telling him to not do that.

“Don’t do what?” Your voice rumbled against his flesh, the sensitive area leading from his ear to his shoulder vulnerable and exposed to your whims.

"That."

"That?"

Gojo jolted the moment your teeth sunk into his skin, just barely hard enough to leave a mark and it made him lose it. With a deep groan, his head shot upwards. The hand that had been running through your hair now gripped your hip, and in an instant, he had you flipped so you were flat on your back, him on top and the papers he’s got from Yaga long forgotten and spread all over the floor.

He’ll worry about them later.

Now: you.

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