#Chew on em like...like hard
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electrostul · 4 months ago
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sometimes i forget this place even exists my god
yeah here ya go guys you can chew on my ocs for now im planning to make some Ultrakill fanart soon but until then... eh
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jichanxo · 9 months ago
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date outfit kitakata save me......... save me....
#kuwana jin#jin kuwana#lost judgment#judgment#jichanart#fic extras#fic:senseific#was itching to work on something related to kitakata on his date with yagami so. here#have actually drawn this outfit before but i don't like that art much anymore so. lol. new one!#the wrist cast is a new addition though cause i think it would be funny#it's not locked in yet BUT fingers crossed i can include it (something something plot)#anyhow other notes about this:#clean shaven bc it's kitakata as opposed to kuwana#jewellry bc you can tell he's really trying here#necklace to draw the eye to the chest#and earrings just cause i think he likes em. plus it's a fun extra detail for yagami to notice#kitakata doesn't get to wear em at his job so it's fun to have that little extra edge you know#i like to think his shirt would be fitted to better show off his arms and chest. he's been working hard on em after all#he can wear his canon boots cause they're practical. i also think he's wearing some cologne#if not for the cast he'd be wearing a decent looking watch too. again. kitakata is REALLY TRYING#and is generally a little more put together than kuwana is#anyway (chews my own arm) i can't write their date until i work more on the actual fucking PLOT#but i reaaaaaaally wanna make this happen so 💔#anyway. yagami shows up to their date wearing what he always wears. can we all make fun of him#because he thinks it's practical and he looks good (which is why he wears it all the time). kitakata is not impressed#ANYWAY#live laugh love senseific
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chiropteracupola · 2 years ago
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the gentleman of lies himself!
[flintlock fortress is a collaboration with @dxppercxdxver]
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bidoofking · 3 months ago
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sometimes i think about the type of people im attracted to and its so odd because it never seems like i’m into the same type of person- looks, personality, any of it really
literally the only sort of consistency seems to be ‘not a bigot’ but beyond that? zilch
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therruiner · 10 months ago
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classyrbf · 7 months ago
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ᯓ★ YOU TURN ME ON! — JJK MEN
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SYNOPSIS...what turns the jjk men on? Don’t worry, I’m here to tell you!
INFO...jjk men (geto, gojo, nanami, toji, choso, higuruma, sukuna) x fem!reader, sexual and non sexual turn ons (kinda), whispering, eye contact, tight clothing, shower sex, p in v, hair pulling, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), pheromones (?), mention of glasses (sukuna), facial (sukuna), not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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GOJO
gojo loves when you whisper in his ear. Something about you being so close to him, feeling your breath on his skin just does something to him. He gets immediate chills up his body and a small little smirk on his face. It doesn’t even have to be sexual either, you could whisper the most basic shit and he’d be giggling like a school girl cause he just loves hearing your voice in that tone. Now, when it is sexual…that man will nut inside of you without warning. You’re moaning and whispering in his ear? He’s a goner, quite literally on another planet. Nibble on his ear a little and his eyes will roll back. Sometimes you’ll do it in purpose while you two are out in public and he gives you the biggest pout ever. “Baby, don’t do that to me c’mon,” he whines. He damn near dragged you to the car and fucked you in the backseat…
NANAMI
nanami loves eyes contact a little too much. Sometimes it’s intimidating because he’s such a stoic man and doesn’t show very much emotion in his face, so he will just stare at you. But overtime you’ve grown to be comfortable with making eye contact with him, just staring lovingly while he talks about work or whatever. He stares into your eyes so much that he can tell what you’re thinking and feeling. More specifically, he knows when you’re in the mood, the little glint in your eye while you smile at him, looking at him up and down like he’s a piece of meat. In that case, expect eye contact during sex! Nanami loves missionary just looking at you, forehead pressed against yours, and he can’t get over that pleading look, batting your pretty lashes at him while you moan his name. “Yes, right here, baby. Keep looking at me. There’s my girl,” he softly sighs.
TOJI
toji loves tight clothes (no surprise). He genuinely thinks you look good in anything, but something about seeing the outline of your body makes him a crazed man. He will nonstop be touching you, handing on your ass, waist, titties, thighs…he does not give a damn. You could be wearing your pajamas and he will still find you sexy. You bend over in something tight? He’s now hard and has to fix the problem, not that he minds. He bends you over right there on the couch with your shorts around your ankles. It’s date night? He’s excited because you’re gonna wear that new dress he bought you—the one that hugs your body so well, showing off all your curves. Wandering eyes follow your every movement while you get ready and be chews on his bottom lip while he thinks of everything he wants to do to you. “Yeah, doll, I don’t think we’ll be making it to dinner tonight,” he chuckles.
GETO
geto loves soapy titties. Now I know that’s like very specific…but I just see him getting turned on by soapy tits for some reason (I don’t make the rules). He doesn’t care what size they are, what they look like, just throw some soap and water on them bad boys and he’s a satisfied man. Bonus points if you send him an unexpected photo in the shower while he’s away. He almost drops his phone while waiting in line for food because he can’t believe his eyes—your perky nipples and soap cascading down your entire body. Expect shower sex…a lot of shower sex. He will go out of his way to help you wash up, trying to be all nice and polite but minutes later his hands are groping your chest and playing with your nipples, soap running between his fingers while he fucks you against the shower wall. “They look so pretty in my hands, baby. I love ‘em.” He lazily smiles.
CHOSO
choso loves when his hair gets pulled or when you play with his hair. He only discovered this when you were doing his hair and accidentally pulled it and to his surprise (and yours) he let out a small whimper. Now you go out of your way to tease him, tugging at his hair whenever you walk by, giggling when he huffs in annoyance. He likes laying on your chest and you just run your fingers through his hair, he immediately melts into your touch. Oh but Choso definitely likes it when you tug at his hair when he’s eating you out…why wouldn’t he? It makes him so hard when he feels your fingers entangle in his hair, pulling and tugging at it while you basically ride his face for your pleasure. You only tug harder when you get closer and closer to your orgasm and his dick is throbbing. “Yes, yes, pull on my hair, please, please,” he begs.
HIGURUMA
higuruma gets turned on when you smell good, whether it’s your natural smell or your perfume, conditioner, lotion, whatever you use. You’d walk by him one day in the kitchen, greeting him when came home from work and he stops in his tracks and sniffs the air a couple of times because you smell so good…??? Like really good to the point he just wants to devour you, hold you, do whatever to you. He’ll hold you close and just smell your hair, your skin, kissing you over and over while his hands roam your body. And if you wear a scent that evokes memories of you two, like a first date or something like that…he pounces on you like a tiger. “How do you smell so fucking good? God, I could just eat you up right now…would you let me?”
SUKUNA
sukuna loves glasses. Yes I said it. Modern sukuna more specifically cause yk…But he will see a woman with glasses and think about how cute her face looks, how smart she looks…the innocent thoughts at first, and then his evil, horny ass would think about what they would look like when he’s fucking you. He can never be wholesome. Will they fog up? Will you let him cum on them? Do you even keep them on? Will they break if he fucks you too hard? All questions that need to be answered. So yes, he eventually fucks a woman with glasses and god does he love it. He finds it adorable when you push up your glasses every ten seconds cause he’s pounding into you too hard. He loves it when you look over them while giving him head. And yes, they do fog up. “Gonna let me cum all over your face? Yeah..? No, no, keep them on for me,” he devilishly smirks, licking his lips.
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taglist (comment to be added):
@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0 @levisjinchuriki @maiiluvs @levizonlywife @xllizs @sm8th0p @waterfal-ling @bonneyzsk @ventila98
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poguehearted77 · 4 months ago
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Hi!! I've watched the scene where Sarah is starving and Rafe is pacing around and knowing he has cash in his pocket and doesn't care that his sister is starving and pregnant. I can't help but imagine it if it was reader, and they hooked up once twice or however you see fit, and she's pregnant with his baby.
Would it be any different? Could you write something about that? Take the idea and run with it because im bad at articulating 🤣
Oh yeah, Rafe is a class-A asshole, but he might show just a little remorse if the baby is his.
Love the requests, keep sending em' in!!
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The Moroccan sun was beating down on the group relentlessly, sweating you out and drying you up with the shine of its bright light. The only reason your sweat wasn't dripping off you was because it was quickly soaked up into the modest fabrics around your head.
You'd been travelling tirelessly for the last few days, dangerously too, if you might add. The boat nearly capsized multiple times just trying to make it to Morocco. As if the boat ride wasn't abhorrent enough with your seasickness....and morning sickness...
The constant smell of saltwater and the rocking of the ship had amplified the awful experience and you would spend the first hour in the bathroom regurgitating your insides every morning. It was not fun.
None of the pogues know you're pregnant. Although, Cleo was on to you. One pregnancy was more than enough for the group to worry about. You figured this was something you'd keep to yourself despite the fact the father is currently trekking with you through the hot sands.
The day was only getting hotter. You're thirsty, your lungs hurt and it felt like your own organs were weighing you down. You naturally began to fall behind the group, little by little until the gap was hard to ignore.
"Come on, Y/n. We're not far from the city, just a few more miles." Pope encouraged but it triggered a laboured breath. You're exhausted. A small smile crept on your lips when you noticed John B holding Sarah's hand the whole time, never letting her out of his sight.
For what feels like the eighth time, Rafe looks over his shoulder, more annoyed than ever. "Jeez, would you hurry it up?" You scoff, mustering up enough energy to kick up some sand at his legs. "Nice. Real mature, Y/n." His sarcasm rolls off his tongue and you ignore him as you walk past him.
Once you finally made it into the city, you all needed something to eat. Sarah wasn't feeling so great and neither were you. Babies are nothing but greedy entities consuming all the nutrients you need.
You leaned against the cool rock wall, watching the others run off to help themselves to a five-finger discount. With your eyes closed, you tried to distract yourself from the ache in your abdomen. Not sure if it was the baby or your hunger, possibly a mix of both.
Without even realizing it, you let a hand rest lightly over your stomach. It was still early, you weren't showing and you thank god.
"We're wasting time!" You hear Rafe yell, it doesn't even faze you. He's somewhere near you when he mumbles to himself, "Sitting around on the streets when we should be going after Groff, unbelievable."
What was supposed to be a quick glance your way turns into an elongated stare. His eyes raked over your posture, your shut eyes, brows crunched in distress. He slowly looks down at the placement of your hand.
"Y/n." He says, tugging you into a corner out of sight from the others and you swat him. He shockingly accepts the reprimands and backs off, taking a step back. "What do you want, Rafe?" Your arms cross, waiting for him to say something.
"Is it mine?" Your arms fall slowly, caught, but you deny it. "I don't know what you're talking about." Hardly able to take two steps away before he's barricading you in the corner with his body.
"Don't bullshit me, Y/n. The baby. Is it mine?" You chew on your lower lip, avoiding his chilling gaze. Apparently, that was enough confirmation. "How long have you known?" He takes on a defensive stance.
How the hell were you supposed to know the answer to that? The last week alone has blurred together in memories of rough waters and dry deserts.
All you knew was it happened sometime between the various times you and Rafe swore it would be the last time you fooled around. Unsure if it was the time on his yacht, in the back of his truck or one of the dozen times you somehow ended up in his bed when you swore you were only in figure eight for a 'walk'.
The group had no idea the two of you had been involved with each other aside from the occasionally tense argument, but anyone could admit the two of you can't seem to stay away from one another.
"I dunno, a month maybe?" He pressed both hands to his forehead, fingers spread wide, and slowly dragged them down, smearing the tension all the way to his chin.
"Let's go." His grip on your hand forces you to follow his long strides between the bustling kiosks until you land inside a Delhi. You're too stuck inside your own mind to process what was happening until you watched Rafe lift the bottom of his shirt, revealing a fanny pack with a considerable amount of money.
"Of course. Of course, you had money this whole time! Of course, you let the others go stealing--!" He hushes you as the owner flashes you a look of concern, "Listen, I'm not the one who told those pogues to go looting. I've got money for more important shit than their sad jewel hunt." He explains, paying for the items with a small nod of gratitude towards the man.
Turning to you, he placed a sandwich in one hand, and a cool bottle of water in the other. "This," He starts, his palm gently resting against your stomach. For the first time in a long time, his brows relax and his gaze softens when he looks at you. "This is more important."
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boneblushed · 6 months ago
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And, boy, you got her
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synopsis Rafe’s in charge of the pledges during Rush Week. Hazing isn’t a thing. Making you feel so high school is.
wc 3.6K
a/n omgggg Euro Trip Rafe <3333 I was living on pledgetok last week and just couldn’t not write something about it
“Holy shit,” Noah mutters, surveying the crowd over his red cup, “I swear they get scrawnier every single year.”
Rafe nods gravely, taking a pull of his beer. “It’s fucking grim.”
“Like — fuck, look at those two.” Noah gestures toward the shaded veranda, a fresh coat of gloss making its balustrades shine. Huddled in one corner, attempting to take up as little space as possible, two boys donning UNC merch survey the crowd in tandem. “We weren’t that fucking scraggy as freshman, were we?”
“You two weren’t,” Kelce snorts, coming up behind them. Topper brings up his rear, mid-bite of his loaded hotdog. “Thornton definitely was though.”
“Oi!” Topper protests, his words garbled by half chewed sausage. “S’wasn’t that bad. C’mon.” He turns to Rafe then, swallowing his mouthful. “But seriously, you locked in any potentials?”
Rafe furrows his brow thoughtfully, looking back over Delta Chi’s yard. Unsurprisingly, it’s far too early to say. Though the barbecue that they’re hosting is a good way for pledges to mingle, it isn’t exactly hazing material; they’re going to have to get creative.
“Maybe,” he replies finally, shrugging. “We’ll just have to see I guess.”
He tips back his red cup again, swallowing the last dregs of beer before acquiescing. As he’s about to announce his need for a refill, a few pledges sidle up to their group, looking hopeful.
Not overtly, of course. Painstakingly hiding their eagerness behind an armour of insouciance.
“Rafe,” the tallest of the three greets, handing him another red cup. The golden liquid inside it brims to the surface, its white foam dissolving in mocking. “Hey, bro. You need another?”
Rafe raises his eyebrows, hiding a grin. “Shit. Table service already?”
The boy grins in tandem, looking a little sheepish. “Big fan, man. I’m Dylan.” He motions at the two guys on either side of him, wearing matching squints and backwards caps. “This is Rahul and Xav, we’re all here from Trinity.”
“Durham and Chapel Hill?” Noah enquires, whistling approvingly when they nod. “Fuck, we used to love having away games there. Those Trin cheerleaders…”
“Haha, shit, what was that chic’s name again?” Rafe asks then, a pull of mirth as he turns to Noah. “The one you messed around with in junior year?”
“Blake,” Noah answers, groaning in a mock-wistful sort of way. “They didn’t make ‘em like her at the Academy.”
Rafe snorts, sending the pledges a sage glance. “Nah. They made ‘em better.”
Noah raises his eyebrows, his brown eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, so we are allowed to objectify your girl then, Cameron?”
“Damn, so you’re tied down?” Xavier pipes up, his voice gravelly and low on purpose. Overtly masculine, like he’s trying hard to be red-blooded. “Your girl doesn’t mind you partying?”
Rafe frowns. “Why would she mind?”
“Uh,” Xavier balks, pulling at the bill of his backwards cap, “shit. I don’t know… like, doesn’t she get pissed that you’re constantly around sorority girls?”
“HA —” Topper laughs, and then he falters, thwarted by Rafe’s warning glower. “Uh.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just say Cameron doesn’t give her any reasons to be suspicious.”
“Because he’s obsessed with her,” Noah adds, unperturbed by Rafe’s expression. He pauses then, an amusing idea popping into his head. “Which means…” he continues, returning Rafe’s glare with a trust me one of his own, “you guys should be too.”
Rafe doesn’t trust him. Like, at all. He sends him a bewildered look, unsure where he’s going with this. “White — what?”
Noah ignores him. He downs his beer and crushes the red cup in his hand, deftly aiming it at the nearest bag of trash. “So,” he says, eyeing the three pledges with interest. “How serious are you guys about rushing Delt?”
“Pretty serious, bro,” Rahul answers, looking to his friends for support. “Think we got a shot?”
Noah throws his arm around Rafe’s neck, his strong bicep taut as he shoots them a grin. “Depends, man, I might know how we could figure that out though.” He begins to steer Rafe away from them, sending one last, faux-somber look over his shoulder. “Be right back, yeah?”
Rafe, whose bewilderment is quickly giving way curiosity, allows himself to be marshalled out of earshot without complaints.
He shrugs Noah off of him once they’re on the verandah, his features ever-bemused as he turns toward him. “The fuck was that about?”
“Bro, I know exactly how we’re going to haze these motherfuckers,” Noah replies, his voice lilted with mirth. “You know… without breaking any rules.”
The bewildered expression on Rafe’s face doesn’t acquiesce. “Okay… how?”
“Instead of getting them to be our bitches,” he answers, a mischievous grin making home on his features. “We’re going to get them to be our girlfriends’ bitches.”
Rafe frowns. “Bro. What?”
“Cameron, it’s perfect.” He swipes Rafe’s beer from his hand and takes a generous pull. “What do frat guys hate more than being called scrawny as fuck?”
“Uh. Doing assignments?” Rafe answers blankly, still frowning. He doesn’t have it in him to think too hard about Noah’s profferance. He’s on hour two of manning this boring event, hour four since he bid you farewell, and all Rafe can bear to think about right now is the imminent taste of your peach-scented lips.
Noah shakes his head. “No, dumbass. Being called a simp.”
“Wrong,” Rafe answers, “I don’t mind that shit at all.”
“You’re the exception,” Noah replies matter-of-factly. “You and Y/N have always been the exception. C’mon, I’m talking about us,” he places his palm over his breastbone solemnly, “mere mortals.”
Rafe narrows his eyes. “Fuck off. How would that even work?”
“We…” Noah pauses to think, a slightly furrow to his brow, “alright, I got it. We assign the pledges to our girlfriends, one by one. Give them a week to make a good impression — you know, carry their bags, buy them flowers, all that sentimental crap you love.”
“You really think the guys’ll agree to this?” Rafe asks, sounding reluctant. “I mean… I don’t know if I’m alright with a bunch of idiots holding doors for my girl.”
“But you’re an idiot that holds a door for your girl,” Noah answers, not missing a beat.
“Fuck off, White.”
“I’m serious. It’ll be funny. And look… if you’re worried about Y/N, I know she’ll find it adorable as fuck.”
Rafe shakes his head. “No way. She didn’t find high-school me adorable.”
Noah raises his eyebrows skeptically. “You’d be surprised, man. Besides, these guys aren’t going to be like high-school you. High-school you was a douchebag.”
“A douchebag who got the girl.”
“A douchebag who got the girl after he stopped acting like a douchebag.” Noah smirks then. “A douchebag who’d give all these fuckers a run for their money if he was pledging Delt this year.”
Rafe grins in tandem, stealing his beer back to take a big swig. “Alright, shit, alright. Harmless shit though, right? Chivalry and all that?”
“Harmless as hell,” Noah agrees. “C’mon. You really think any of these guys has the balls to make a pass at one of our girls?”
“Easy for you to say, White. You don’t fucking have a girl.”
Noah frowns. “What d’you mean? Aren’t we going halves on Y/N?”
“Holy fuck, Noah,” Rafe groans, almost spitting out his mouthful of beer. “If Y/N heard the shit you said when she wasn’t around, she’d probably kill you.”
“Nah,” Noah replies, seemingly unperturbed. “She loves me.”
“Well,” Rafe says grimly, crushing his own empty cup in his head. “She might do now, but she sure as hell won’t by the end of this week.”
The first time it happens, you’re understandably perplexed.
You’re en-route to your 9AM, bag strap denting your left shoulder, when a stranger falls into your step and swipes it from your figure. It’s a motion so quick and deft you initially think you’re getting mugged.
As you double back in bewilderment, he proffers, “you alright with this?”
“Uh.” You balk. “What?”
“Your bag,” he answers, readjusting it on his own shoulder. He seems earnest. Nervous, even. “It looked heavy. I can carry it to class for you, if you want?”
You allow a pause to take him in.
“No, I’m…” another pause, more of his demeanour on display. Backwards cap, crisp white polo shirt, smile lines exposing the ghost of a grin on his face. A familiar grin, the kind that pulls a soft, maudlin feeling from your ribcage. “Look, if you’re trying to hit on me —”
“No, no,” he interrupts quickly, his eyes widening in a panic. “Shit — no, don’t tell Cameron I’m hitting on you. I’m just…”
“Wait a minute,” your eyes narrow accusatorially, because of course he’s behind this chivalrous display, “you know my boyfriend?”
The stranger grimaces sheepishly. “Uh. Yeah.”
“Explain.”
“It’s… uh… well — basically, I’m pledging Delt,” he answers haltingly, self effacement juxtaposing his frat boy exterior. “Rafe’s asked us to be all gentlemanly and shit for pledge week, I don’t know. To you guys, I mean. Like… the current frat member’s girls?”
“Oh my god,” you groan. “No he hasn’t.”
“Shit.” He looks far more nervous now that he did five minutes ago. “He didn’t tell you?”
“No,” you grumble, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “No he did not.”
Rafe’s on speed dial. He picks up on the first ring, the way he always does for you.
“Hey baby,” his gravelly timbre crackles through the phone, the low hum of frat house chatter audible in the background. “What’s up?”
“Don’t even. You know what’s up Rafael.”
A pause. When Rafe speaks again, his voice is quick and placating. “It was Noah’s idea.”
“Of course it was.”
“Dylan’s not playing up, is he?”
You raise your eyebrows at the stranger then, assessing him faux-suspiciously. “No way. He’s doing a better job than you ever did in high school.”
“Woah woah woah,” Rafe replies, a playful lilt to his tone. “That fucker’s not calling you dream girl or something, is he?”
“Worse. He’s being respectful of my boundaries.”
“Oh shit. I fucking knew this was a bad idea.”
You shake your head in exasperation, trying not to laugh. The poor stranger’s still standing there at attention, your leather bag looking ridiculous on his arm. “Rafe. Tell me he’s the only one.”
“He’s one…” Rafe starts slowly, sounding sheepish, “of three. Four, counting me.” In the background, you hear Noah pipe up and add, “five, Cameron. How could you forget me?”
“You’re un-fucking-believable, Noah White,” you shout through the phone.
“I love you too, Y/N,” Noah sings, and then he groans, no doubt shoved to the side by his indignant best friend. It’s Rafe on the phone again, voice sweet and thick as molasses as he says, “they’ll behave, baby, and make your life easier in the process. I promise.”
“What?” You accuse, fighting back a smile. “Like you did in high school?”
“Fuck no,” he replies, the grin on his face audible. “They’ll be nothing like I was, sweetheart.”
“What?” You tease. “Absolutely insufferable?”
“And absolutely in love with you.”
You raise your eyebrows. “How can you be so sure?”
“They’re under strict instruction. Have a shiner waiting for them if they pull something funny.”
Another exasperated laugh bubbles out of you, and you begin walking forward again, motioning at the boy named Dylan to follow in your step. “Right. So the boundaries are on purpose, are they?”
“The respect, too. No being inappropriate and charming at the same time.”
“And why not?” You ask faux-indignantly. “What if I like being objectified?”
“Can’t have you falling in love with them, can I?”
“Hey,” you argue, frowning stubbornly. “That is not what made me fall in love with you.”
“It isn’t?”
“Well,” you balk, “not solely that.”
“You’re fucking sexy,” he recites devotedly, almost yells, and you can hear the collective groan of his frat brothers in the background. “Are you wearing those Lululemon pants right now? Point is, I’m thinking about your ass in those Lululemon pants right now.”
“Rafe, I was fucking kidding. Stop.”
“No you weren’t.” You know he’s right; you can picture that stupid smirk on his face. It makes your cheeks warm. Asshole. “You’re blushing now, aren’t you?”
“Anyway.”
“Anyway,” Rafe agrees. “No funny business, alright? Just lots of good deeds.”
Good deeds. You suppose you could get used to good deeds, the embarrassment of attention notwithstanding.
You let out a defeated sigh, halting in front of your 9AM class. “You so, so owe me.”
“I so, so love you,” Rafe replies, and it makes your pulse leap; you’ll never get used to this feeling. “See you later, yeah?”
“Uh huh. Love you.”
Dylan waits until you’ve ended the call before saying farewell, dutifully handing your leather bag back to you and giving you a mock salute. The way he does it, all sheepish and genuine with a charming smile on his face, makes your heart twinge in a junior year of high-school sort of way. You’re feeling sentimental. It’s sweet.
You’re reminded of Rafe before he was yours, stumbling over himself to win your favour. Confusing chivalry with courting, objectifying you in the name of flirting.
Insufferable, but sweet nonetheless. You digress.
The next time it happens, you’re ambushed at your favourite cafe.
A dutiful Delta Phi pledge has already queued up and purchased you coffee, handing it over to you with a blushing bouquet of tulips.
You raise your eyebrows at him questioningly. “Is that…?”
“Uh, an oat iced coffee with vanilla?” He asks, sounding nervous. “I asked Cameron for your order.”
“Didn’t ask me about pastries, though,” a voice behind you adds, rough and familiar with a sweetness around the edges. Rafe circles your waist with ease and pulls you into his chest, sponging a soft kiss to your temple before handing you a brown bag.
A glossy, Daily Bread sticker shines on its exterior proudly.
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you look up at him expectantly. “Tell me you didn’t drive back home for a single croissant.”
“I didn’t drive back home for a single croissant,” Rafe replies. He grins then, looking that same, sheepish genuine that pulls a maudlin feeling. “I drove back home for twenty.”
“Rafe. Why?”
“Because you like Daily Bread,” he replies matter-of-factly, like it’s obvious.
You shake your head in exasperation, tip-toeing up to press a quick kiss to his lips. It becomes less quick against better judgement. He tastes like spearmint gum and cold brew, the hand he has held to your waist tightening ever so slightly. Slipping under your shirt, massaging the soft skin he finds there expertly, discreetly. Too much for 8am on a Wednesday morning, sans coffee. Your face feels on fire. You pull away in a hurry.
Meanwhile, the freshman pledge balks at the exchange, looking out of place.
Rafe frowns bemusedly at your diffidence, only clocking the reason when you nod over at him.
“I’ll walk her over Ben,” he says, dismissing him. “You’re off the hook, bro.”
“Shit.” The boy named Ben grimaces; he needs to get his hours in, and doesn’t deem this a fair ambush. He scrambles for an excuse. “Right. Can I still give her the flowers?”
“Of course you can,” you beam, accepting them gratefully. You look up at Rafe then, asking, “And if I want to walk with Benjamin?”
Rafe grins down at you, disbelieving. “Do you, baby?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” you say, wriggling out of his grasp. “He got me flowers.”
Rafe falters, his eyes widening in surprise. “Sweetheart, I got you a croissant.”
“Ben got me a coffee,” you hedge. “And flowers.”
“Y/N,” he placates.
“Rafael,” you echo, unperturbed by his exasperation. You take a sip your coffee. “I’ll see you later, okay? Ben’s ticking off a good deed this morning.”
Poor Ben looks helpless, taking the brunt of Rafe’s glare as you motion for him to hold the door for you.
“C’mon Ben, we’re going to be late.”
“But…” Ben pauses, his eyes flitting to Rafe nervously. “This is fine, right?”
Rafe sighs, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in defeat. “Yeah, bro. You’re good.” He looks to you, then. “You’re unbelievable.”
You smile sweetly. “I’m wearing the Lulu leggings.”
“Oh I noticed,” Rafe replies, his blue eyes falling down your figure in slow, reverent paces. “It’s why I want to be the one holding the door for you.”
You roll your eyes. “Men only want one thing.”
Rafe grins. “Yeah. You.”
By the end of the week, you’re more used to the chivalry than you’re willing to admit.
You’ve enjoyed free iced lattes and filled your dorm with gorgeous bouquets, no door left unopened and no walk to class left unescorted. And really, every pledge you’ve come across has been pleasant and unassuming, albeit absolutely terrified of Rafe and therefore extra obliging on instinct.
They’ve even offered to do favours for you, got you into sought after Pilates classes and done last minute grocery runs on your behalf. It’s put you in this constant state of mild exasperation, like you can’t believe you’re worthy of this much love and chivalry.
It’s exactly the way you felt back in high-school with Rafe, and this revelation pulls lots of funny feelings from your stomach, from your chest. Feelings you’ve forgotten that are all yours and all his. Because it’s strange, having someone other than Rafe taking care of you. (Or Noah.) It’s strange because it makes you realise just how much he adored you back in the day.
These emotions come to a head at the pledge week closing bash, Delta Phi lit up with fluorescent lights in technicolour. Inebriation ensues, beer pong follows, and an impromptu DJ deck plays endless songs with heavy bass.
Rafe Cameron has you pulled close, as always, the taut muscle of his forearm pressing heat to your exposed waist. You’re a few drinks down and hyperaware of his proximity, ankles touching, thighs too, torsos close with your head resting on his shoulder.
“I think I like Dylan the best,” you announce suddenly.
“Yeah?” Rafe asks, kneading your skin absentmindedly.
You nod. “He’s sweet. Told me all about his girl back home.”
Rafe grins then, shaking his head bemusedly. “You’re such a sucker for love, sweetheart.”
“Hey!” You glare up at him faux-incensed, looking accusatory. “So are you!”
“Shhhh,” Rafe murmurs playfully. “Not so loud, you’ll fuck up my street cred.”
You scoff. “Since when do you care about street cred?”
“Shit, you’re right,” Rafe agrees easily, leaning down to draw your lips in for a kiss. He’s all patchouli and musk, beer on his tongue and unchaste intentions in his touch. When he pulls away, his lips are still an inch from yours, his voice rougher than it was a second ago, “I don’t care. Like, at fucking all.”
“Good,” Noah snorts from behind him. “‘Cause you never had any to begin with, bro.”
“There you are,” you say then, eyeing Noah over Rafe’s shoulder. There’s a mock accusatory expression on your face, softened by mirth and the alcohol on your lips. “Have you been hiding from me, White?”
Noah grins sheepishly, taking a pull of his beer. “Maybe.”
You narrow your eyes. “Tell me. When did you become worse than Rafael?”
“I didn’t become worse!” Noah insists. “He just became better. You know, after he got the girl.”
You make a face. “Smooth.”
“Hey,” Noah raises his arms in surrender, looking faux-somber, “someone’s gotta teach the next generation, don’t they? I’m committed to their education.” He raises his eyebrows then, a mischievous glint in his eye. “C’mon, don’t act like you didn’t love it.”
Rafe grins. “She totally fucking loved it.”
You aim a glare at the pair of them, failing miserably at hiding your amusement. “So maybe I didn’t mind it. Sue me.”
“Of course you loved it,” Noah says, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side. “You love Cameron, don’t you?”
You narrow your eyes. “Opinions vary.”
“You love me?” Noah tries.
“You fucking wish.”
“Everyone fucking wishes,” Rafe says then, throwing his arm around you too, your figure wedged between the pair of them. Frat boy sandwich, you think tiredly. If high-school you could see you now, you’re pretty sure she’d have an aneurysm. “Especially when you’re in Lululemon.”
“Rafe.”
“I’m kidding. Not really. They all love you, you know that, yeah?”
You look up at him questioningly. “The pledges?”
“Uh huh,” Rafe replies, raising his eyebrows at you. “This is what I was afraid of, you know.”
“What?” You ask, lifting yours in tandem.
“Everyone falling in love with you, like I did in high school.”
You scrunch up your nose at him, your cheeks warming in diffidence. “No one’s fallen in love with me, don’t be silly.”
“I have,” Noah pipes up unhelpfully.
“Shut up, Noah. I saw you talking to Georgia just before.”
Noah grins, pulling away and offering you a mock salute. “Guilty as charged.” He turns to survey the crowd, spotting her figure on the fairy-light lit porch. “Speaking of…”
And he’s gone before you’re able to tease him any further, leaving Rafe to guide you out of his side and into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, his hands exerting a warm, steady pressure into the curve of your waist.
“As I was saying,” you continue, frowning up at him playfully. “No one’s fallen in love with me.”
Rafe’s unconvinced. His gaze skates down your figure again, a tortured groan falling from his throat. “Have you seen you, sweetheart?”
You roll your eyes, face hot and self conscious. “And even if they have,” you add, “it doesn’t matter.”
Rafe raises his eyebrows. “It doesn’t?”
“No way. Because I’m in love with you, not any of them.”
Rafe grins then, a devastatingly handsome look on his face. “I’ll never get used to hearing that.”
“I’ll never get used to saying it.”
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sleep-0-deprived · 7 months ago
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Yandere Bully x Reader Nerd who is shy and clumsy but a freak in bed causing Yandere to have trouble walking the next day? And reader apologizes to them the next day.
Study sessions~! (Yandere bully x top nerd male reader) ૮ >⸝⸝⸝⸝< ა
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WC:. 1.7k
Tags hair pulling, choking, spit as lube, bad prep(reader doesn’t prep him fully) degrading, spit usage, biting/marking nipple play (mainly pinching and pulling) back shots, no protection, creampies, forced feminization. ˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊
A/N I didnt really know what kinks to use so I just chose a few of mine and tried to make it as nasty as I could and I also gave the Yandere a name but you can decide who it is! <33
School, that was personal hell for you. Perfect grades perfect credits and a perfect teachers pet reputation. All of that made you the perfect school target of jasper, and while he first started bullying you out of interest it delved much darker into obsession about you, behind closed doors on the other hand was a different story, you had him bent over the couch of his house or spread out in the bed of yours. In that setting you were the one in control, you liked that setting the best.
What was supposed to be a simple tutor session for the two of you turned to just be an excuse for you to have jaspers head in your pillows while you fuck him. “Hn- right there-!” A groan left jasper’s mouth but that didn’t detest you in the slightest “c’mon you little freak, you were so proud during English today?” You’d mock him leaving down right in his ear and jerk your hips forward dragging the tip of your cock along his inner walls.
“Oh- hm- [name]!~” jasper was in another state of bliss arching his back raising his ass up more for you while his eyes batted back and forth between thrusts “damn jasper, clenchin just like a pussy” your hand reaching forward gripping a hand full of his black locks pulling his head back to watch as your cock held his winking rim open, jaspers hole not having been prepped fully was burning from the sensation of nothing but his own spit as lube
“such a tight little cunt jasper, you let every guy get a fuck outta it?” You look down at him in the eye pressing your hips forward holding your cock right against his prostate and holding his head up by the hair to make him look at you as you fuck him. “Noo— just you!” His moans starting to sound like high pitched squeaks every time you thrusted into him “I’m havin a hard time believing that jasper” your hand loosened from his hair letting his face fall forward into the bed sheets as his rim spasmed around your cock.
“More, [name] please~” jasper croaked out while you re adjusted yourself leaning down right on top of him mounting him taking your hand off his hip reaching under him to start groping one of his pecs while biting at the nape of his neck giving it a little suck while your hips crashed against his ass cheeks. “Such perfect tits jasper, so small like they’re beggin fer me to touch em” you murmur against his neck leaving purple and red marks in your wake before biting a little harder right in the crook when you snap your hips forward driving your cock further into him.
“Fuck! Hng—“ a sharp gasp leaves jaspers mouth his hands reaching up gripping the head board slightly while your hips pound nailing him down into the meters making the head board creak reaching one hand back to hold your hair and tug at it holding your face in the side of his neck while you fuck him. “That’s it, you really like that huh? Yet pussy’s clamping real tight when I do this” you groan out heaving a little on top of him using your right hand to tug and pinch his nipple making jasper arch.
“I’m s’close [name]” jasper bites at the pillow fisting your hair tightly with his other hand on the head board “yeah, wanna cum?” You muffle your words chewing on the skin of his neck snaking your left hand down gripping the base of his cock before picking your pace up “yess, yes~!” Jasper nods quickly rutting his ass backwards into your groin desperate to get your cock inside him deeper while his gummy like walls contract around you “go on Jasper make a mess of yourself” you taunt giving his cock another harsh jerk in rhythm of your thrusts with your other hand gripping his pec tightly massaging it while your hips stutter and ground forward.
“Oh- ha—[name]~!” Jasper gasps out clenching his eyes shut tight and scrunching his nose up with his face into the pillow shuddering while his inner walls convulse around your shaft. “Spasming like an animal in heat Jasper—“ you huff into his neck licking up where you bit snapping your hips forward one more time gripping his cock tougher while it pulses and throbs beneath your fingers with his cock head no longer a pink color but a angry red while he shoots thin liquid ropes of sperm all over your bed sheets soiling the open splayed math book Jasper had out for your “study session”.
“Look at that pussy squirting!” Your hand letting his cock go but your right hand keeps groping his bed pinching the nipple before digging your nails into his pale skin. Your cock head assaulting his prostate over and over rubbing against his bundle of nerves just right before pulling your cock out of the obsessed male, “no—cum inside me~!” Jasper puffs his cheeks all disappointed and whiny when you pull out of him using your left hand to give your cock a few tugs aiming right on his ass cheeks making a slick mess of him “what a slut beggin for your cunt it get stuffed”
You mumble out taking your mouth off his neck with a slight grunt sitting back up getting off top of Jasper letting his now bruised pec go “not such a bully once you’ve been dicked down huh Jasper?-“ a sly grin creeps onto your face pulling his hand out of your hair and turning him over on his back “don’t think I-can take any m’ore” Jasper looks up at you lazily with his cock all soft and stuck to his thigh by his cum, “I think you can pretty boy” you murmur lifting his left thigh up hoisting it up on your hip. “Just hold on an take it good Jasper”
“Mh fuck—“ a hiss escapes jaspers mouth looking up at you as you use your left hand guiding your cock back to his rim pushing past the puffy ring of muscles “shh— that’s it~” you coo softly not giving mush of a time for him to get used to the sensation before you move your hands to either side of his head holding yourself up between his thighs again rolling your hips in a circular motion crashing back into him as his rim stretches wide around you greedily taking you in. “[name] F’me c’mon~” mewls leave jaspers mouth already back into a bliss with his thighs wrapping tight around your hips arching his back.
“Needy aren’t you” your hand moves from the bed sheets using one to wrap around his neck while you jackhammer your hips forward lightly choking Jasper just enough to make him feel dizzy “ah~ [name]” the moan leaves his lips softly drooling on himself looking up at you all fucked out with his cock hard again as his walls milk at your base.
“God you’re already fuckin close?” You huff on top of him your grip on his neck tightening picking up your force making the bed squeak with your hips bruising his ass cheeks from the force “hmm~�� Jasper goes incoherent under you unable to speak between your choking and fucking making his eyes gloss up like a dolls, all love obsessed you could swear there are hearts in his pupils while he watches you on top of him.
“Fuck jasper, such a slutty cunt” you groan your hand slipping off his neck not caring about the red marks left behind as you grip his thighs tight thrusting erratically nearing your edge while your chest puffs full of air with your once pristine hair falling out of place from the sweaty mess you and Jasper are making between the sheets with your books and note pads long forgotten and spilled onto the floor.
“I-m bout to—“ Jasper cuts himself off croaking out weakly from being choked his voice scratchy feeling a heat in his lower abdomen with his legs pressed up into the head board of the head and his cock sandwiched between both of your stomachs making a sticky amount of pre cum while his cock swells up.
“That’s it jas” you look down for a moment pressing your sweaty forehead to his bitting at his bottom lip kissing him punctuating the kisses with your thrusts while Jasper grips your shoulders tightly holding onto you arching his back cumming on himself spilling on his stomach splattering on yours when your cock head pulses right against his sweet spot making his rim twitch around you tightening like a vice.
“[name], [name], [name]~” his voice rang through the room his lower body nearly bent in half under your weight only making you grumble fucking Jasper faster trying to reach your own high not caring about anything else as the pleasure dogs your head up “take it for me jas—“ a guttural groan left your lips while your hand on jaspers thighs weaken pumping your hips forward slowly spilling yourself inside him letting your semen coat his inner walls with the molten liquid.
“Are you alright Jasper?…” you ask softer catching your breath lost in a after glow on top of him blinking looking up at him with your cock half pulled out of his ass and your chin resting on his chest looking all concerned despite the rough treatment you have just given him. “I better not have a limp tomorrow or I’m beating your ass—“ Jasper growls out despite him loving it he had a reputation to keep and he couldn’t afford to be limping in front of his friends, specially not when he had a straight guy ruse going.
The next day seeming to come slower than anything you went about your normal routine in school, although anytime Jasper saw you he quickly looked away all red in the face and angrily walking with a limp with a few other muscular minions he had from the foot ball team. Poor Jasper couldn’t hardly make it through foot ball practice after the pounding his ass took last night.
Study hall came around jaspers friends all together at a table leaving you and him alone for the moment “I’m sorry I went to rough Jasper…” you whisper out with a little frown seeing the red and blue bite marks on his neck with a pink hand print on his Adam’s apple from yesterdays coupling. “It’s fine just shut up you smart ass” Jasper grumbles out acting tough and mean secretly giving your thigh a nudge with his knee letting your know he wasn’t really angry at you.
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emilys-bangs · 2 months ago
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born knowing you | e.p
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Tags: shy!reader, established relationship (married cause who wouldn’t wanna marry her), temporary amnesia, hospitals, reader has an appendectomy but no details are mentioned, absolute boatload of fluff, disgusting amount of petnames used, no use of yn
Summary: After your surgery, the effects of the anesthesia linger: you can’t remember your wife—or being married to her. Luckily for the both of you, she’s persistent.
Word count: 1.4k
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The moment you peel your threaded lashes apart, fluorescent light assaults your eyes. Immediately they shutter closed. You take a few seconds to adjust to the blissful dark before opening them again, a small, displeased sound getting stuck in your throat. 
It catches the attention of a woman sitting on a chair next to your bed. She looks up from a book in her lap, a smile crossing her face as she closes it and slips it onto the table next to her. Your brain is fuzzy, but with the sharp scent of antiseptic and the uncomfortable scratch of the gown you’re wearing, it’s not hard to deduce that you’re in a hospital.
“Hi gorgeous,” she says softly. Reaching out, she takes your hand. “How are you feeling?”
You frown confusedly. Looking between her and your joint hands, your perplexion mounts; you know her, you must. Your skin doesn’t crawl at her touch. But you try to come up with a name, a memory, and your brain comes up with nothing.
The woman squeezes your hand and leans out of her chair, across the handle of your bed—she’s suddenly so close you could count the freckles on her cheeks. Her eyes spike your sluggish pulse into something frantic.
God, she’s so familiar. You know that stare. Your skin warms at its intensity, a low buzz in your bones that could no doubt be accredited to the deep, unfathomable brown of her iris. 
Nobody has eyes like that.
The woman’s brows pinch at your silence. A wrinkle forms between her manicured brows; she chews on her bottom lip, squeezes your hand again—nervous this time.
“Honey?”
“I…I know you,” you mumble uncertainly. It sounds like a question. 
The wrinkle clears. An exhale parts the woman’s heart-shaped lips, her relief wafting over your chin.
“You do. I’m Em, baby. Emily. Don’t you remember?” She asks gently, cradling your cheek with her free hand. You think you could’ve answered if not for the devastating tilt of her spidery lashes. “The anesthesia did a number on you, huh? The doctor said it might happen.” Her thumb traces the length of your jaw.
She’s so close. You swallow and discover that your throat is dry. Emily, she said. Strange how it warms you up on the inside. Flitting your eyes away, you relieve yourself of her crushing gaze.
“Can I have water?” You rasp.
Emily procures a bottle. Cold creeps into your skin as she adjusts your bed, helping you sit up, and uncaps the water. Your arms are leaden by your sides. Heat surges in your cheeks as you let her help you drink, a distinct weight on your face you think might be from her eyes. You can hardly feel the cool spill of the water down your throat.
Clumsily, you push the bottle away when you’re done. Water spills down your chin; it travels down the column of your neck, soaks your hospital gown. Embarrassment flares hot, especially when Emily’s hand is there on your chin, drying the water with her fingers. You stare at her, this time unable to look away even when her eyes meet yours.
She smiles, dimples popping in her cheeks. “Everything alright in there? They didn’t mess you up too bad, did they?” Her voice is lightly teasing. It’s lovely, silky smooth and drenched with the warmth of adoration. That can’t all be for you, can it? “I should’ve flashed my badge, let them know it was precious cargo they’d be dealing with.” She muses, brows pinched as if she were serious.
God, who is this woman?
You swallow your thrumming heart. “What happened?”
“You had an appendectomy.” Emily says. “Laparoscopic. It took about an hour—we should be out of here once they check your vitals.” 
Out of here, to where? She won’t be taking you to her home, will she? You saw a wedding ring on her finger when she tucked her hair—wavy, dark as an oil spill—behind her ear. The glint of metal makes your stomach tighten strangely.
“Hey, you never answered,” Emily’s leaning against the handle of your bed, “how are you feeling?” A smooth, smoky scent floods your lungs.
“Alright.” Breathless. Her ring is dazzling in the dull light. “Itchy. But nothing hurts. You’re married.” You say, vaguely aware of the way your voice slurs.
Emily smiles softly. 
“We are.”
What?
You shake your head haltingly. “I’m not—I’m not married.”
“You are, sweetheart.” Again, she cups your face. “To me. What, am I that easily forgettable?” She whispers. The smile doesn’t play on her lips now; it shimmers in her eyes. “You’re breaking my heart, love.” Her voice is so achingly tender, soft as the cushioned heel of her palm.
Your heart is going to beat out of your chest. 
Breathless, you wet your lips with a quick dart of your tongue. “You…you wanted to marry me?”
Emily looks almost offended.
“Of course I did.”
You still can’t fathom it. “Why?” You mumble. “Why me?”
“Who else if not you?” She thumbs along your jaw.
You’re dizzy. And almost entirely sure she can feel your frantic pulse under the lazy drag of her finger. At your disbelief, Emily hums.
“Here,” her hand is reaching for your left, “see? I put that there, two October’s ago.” She kisses your wedding band—how hadn’t you felt it?—her lips velvet smooth against your skin. “You were so stunning I nearly forgot my vows.” The warm vibrations of her voice sink into your hand, reverberate through your bones.
It’s a good thing you’re in a hospital; you think she might be doing you irreparable damage. Lungs tight, you try to think past the effortless way she threads her fingers through yours.
“Do you always flirt like that?”
Emily’s smile melts your brain. “When you let me.”  She shifts a little closer—impossibly—and her eyes sweep downward, a lick of heat burning your lips. Then they’re back up to meet yours, wide open and a little desperate. “Can I kiss you, baby? God, you wouldn’t believe how much I missed you in there.”
Your heart palpitates.
“We’ve done it before?” You manage, more than a little choked at the thought.
“A million times.” Emily promises.
It’s your turn to look at her mouth. Soft pink, heart shaped, and entirely too inviting. When she does something with a flash of her teeth, you’re a goner.
“Okay.”
She lights up. “Yeah? Sure?”
“Please.”
The breath you exhale when she cups your cheek is downright embarrassing. But it almost doesn’t matter; this close, you can see that her pupils are wide, blown out. The lack of iris doesn’t make her gaze any less intense. If you hadn’t been sitting, legs firmly on the mattress, you’d have slid to the floor with weakened knees.
Emily’s lips are exactly as soft as they look. She tastes like coffee, sweetened by something you inexplicably identify as Splenda, and when her fingers sift through your hair something tugs in your chest. It’s instantly proven—no, this isn’t your first kiss. Maybe it has been a million times, or maybe somewhat less, but it’s not the first. Though it’s chaste and quick, your mouth knows what to do. Even when Emily leans back, eyes glittering, your mouth takes over without your permission.
“Love you,” you blurt.
Emily grins so wide you’re breathless. “I love you too. What, did I kiss some memories into that pretty brain of yours?” She thumbs at the edge of your tingling lip.
“You could try to. If you wanna.” What are you even saying anymore? She’s robbed you of thought, of breath. You’re happy to be completely at her mercy.
“Honey, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.” Emily says solemnly. She kisses the corner of your mouth, the mellow lilt of her voice dissolving right in your tongue. “In fact, it’s my duty as your wife, I’m pretty sure.”
“My wife,” you say dumbly.
“Oh, you like that.” Her grin is incandescent. “God, I’d marry you all over again if I could.”
“I’d just like to remember the first time,” you say quietly.
“You will.” Another kiss, to the other corner of your mouth. Feather light and quicker than you’d like. Your mouth curves into a sulk—a pout.
“Soon?”
“Before you even know it.” Emily—your wife (the reality is starting to set in)—promises. And her promise holds up; it’s when she’s taken you home, and you’re in a baggy pair of sweatpants, flushing and fidgeting as it comes back to you. Believe me now? she teases into your ear, her laugh soft when you reach out to swat at her.
You can’t believe you ever doubted.
taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi@temilyrights@professorsapphic
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moonstruckme · 30 days ago
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Please oh please may I request tasm!peter using his super strength to impress r? I don’t know if you’ve seen the TikToks from Romeo and Juliet but he is dangling and does a pull up to kiss her and like that vibe of just being a bit of a show off to fluster her
You may! Thank you <3
tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 876 words
“I read something today,” you say, steam trailing behind you as you carry your microwave dinner into the bedroom. 
“Yeah?” Peter doesn’t pause in pulling on his suit. He nearly falls over when his leg gets stuck in the spandex. You’d think after so much practice, he’d be better at it. “That’s great, baby. Big step for you.” 
“Shut up.” You consider chucking a tamale at him, but no, not worth it. “I read a statistic about crime in New York.” 
Now you have Peter’s interest. He cocks his head, the suit hanging from his waist. Not getting distracted by his naked torso never becomes less of a trial for you. 
“Something you think I should know?” 
“Mhm. Did you know most crime here happens between noon and seven pm?” 
“Oh.” He rolls his eyes, putting his arms in their sleeves. “I know where this is going.” 
“It just seems,” you say thoughtfully, “like maybe you could stay here with me tonight. Since, you know, most of the crime is already over.” 
“I have class until six-thirty, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?” 
“Stay home.” You take a bite of your tamale, but it’s hotter than you expected. You chew with unladylike open-mouthed bites, trying to breathe out the steam. “Obviously.” 
Peter grins at your misfortune. You glare, and he makes a face so dopily in love you almost can’t stand it. 
“I have to go,” he says. “Whatever the statistics say, there are still crimes happening, and if I’ve got their schedule figured out those guys will be coming back to try and rob the gyro place again.” 
You swallow your food, frowning. “Damian’s place?” 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh, fuck those guys. Go get ‘em.” 
“I knew you’d get it.” Peter pulls on his mask, backing up towards the window. It’s been opened so frequently it doesn’t even squeak. You shiver at the cold wind it lets in. “Back later.” 
“Be safe,” you say automatically, pulling out your laptop and tapping random keys until it turns on. “Don’t go after guys with guns.” 
“I won’t.” 
You think Peter’s lying, but it’s the sort of white lie you’re okay with being told. You try not to think too hard when he goes out on his patrols; the worry would drive you insane if you did. You can never really fall asleep until you feel that wind come in through the window again, though, his body slipping into bed beside yours. 
You’re just navigating to YouTube when there’s a schwick, and your laptop shuts. You stare at the splatter of webbing on the back side of your screen in silent indignance for a moment before tracing it back to the source. 
“Peter.” Your boyfriend is dangling from the window of your eight-floor apartment by his fingertips. By only one set of fingertips. You know all about his abilities, and still the sight makes your heart shoot up into your throat. “What are you doing?” 
“Aren’t we forgetting something?” 
“What?” 
He attaches his webbing to the windowsill, using that hand to pull off his mask. “Uh, a goodbye kiss?” 
You roll your eyes, but it’s hard not to look smitten when the thing your boyfriend is sternest about is romance. You get up and follow the line of his web to the window. 
“You’re going to clean this stuff off my laptop when you get back,” you say, tone softening with fondness as he looks up at you. 
“It’ll dissolve,” he replies. “C’mere.” 
You bend, and Peter meets you halfway, muscled arms shifting underneath the tight material of his suit as he pulls himself upward. His lips are warm. The ends of his hair shift in the wind, tickling your forehead. You have to stop yourself from leaning all the way out the window to follow him when he pulls away. 
“Mm.” He licks his lips. “Save me some of those tamales, please.” 
“Do not tell me that I taste like bean and masa,” you plead. 
Peter grins. “No, I’m just teasing. You taste like you. Which is to say…” He pulls upward again, finding you just where he left you. “...very good.” 
Your lips curve against his, staying even after the kiss. “Flirt.” 
“Maybe.” He lets himself drop down below you, knuckles to his chin. It’s odd seeing him like this, so at ease with the city whizzing about nearly a hundred feet below him. 
You bite your lip, and his eyes drop to the motion. 
“Okay,” he says. “One more.” 
You grin. “Now you’re just showing off.” 
Peter makes a noncommittal humming sound, but you know he’s well aware of the impressive flex of his biceps and forearms as he lifts himself upward for one last kiss. You make it a good one, soft and lingering. 
“Is it working?” 
“Maybe,” you repeat his answer to your flirting accusation. But when you look at him again, your voice drops into a more genuine register. “Hey. Be safe tonight, seriously.”  
Peter’s eyes go soft. “I will. I’ll see you later, pretty girl.” He winks before pulling the mask on. “Keep the bed warm for me.” 
“If you’re not back by midnight, I’m putting an ice cube on your pillow.” 
His laughter echoes in the room after he’s gone. 
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st4rbwrry · 10 months ago
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𝐵𝒰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝒢𝒰𝑀.
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⸝⸝ ౨ৎ :: ellie finger fucks you after you get your nails done since they’re too long to do yourself. ♡
‍warnings ౨ৎ 2.5k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, black coded, creaming, sub/dom, dirty talk, daddy kink, ellie smokes cigs swrry, fingering, finger sucking, kissing, bit of a bratty reader, spoiled!reader, ellie is too irritated so she gets nasty in the car, dry humping, choking, thigh spanks, praise, pet names [ baby. mamas. sweetie. princess ], established relationship. reblogs & comments are appreciated! <3
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can’t help but picture the way ellie would finger fuck you after paying for your nails to get done, the bubblegum pink acrylics, also stiletto shaped with white patterns of pretty shit making it difficult for you to do the deed yourself. the eye roll ellie gives you as she leans against the black vechicle behind you, puffing on a cigarette she swore she’d quit a million times as you leave the vicinity of the salon, twiddling your dainty fingers for her to view. a cloud of smoke is blown past her plush pink lips as she gives you that knowing glare, that shape insanely disrespectful in her mind. how the fuck were you going to take care of her if she needed it? the disapproving upturned pout of your girlfriend’s lips give you that sinking feeling in your gut, knowing she’d do that the instant she saw them. but they were so pretty, and you wanted to try something new.
“daddy, hiiiii!” that sweet tone of yours sing as her pretty princess approaches her, smooching her freckled face. ellie’s lips reminded in a tight line, groaning as she trailed her hand down the middle of your back and to your ass that’s nearly exposed from the wind blowing, or rather the short length of it.
“lemme see your nails,” ellie rasps, tossing her cigarette to the side as she stares down at you with an unreadable expression. scary and intimidating as usual.
you don’t know why you’re so nervous, slowly raising your hands to her view for her to see clearer. a deep swallow catches her attention, eyeing your throat before bringing her tatted hands up to enclose your fingers with her. your arms rise as she lifts your hands that hold hers, ellie humming as she looks at the dozens of iridescent gems.
“cute.”
you bat your falsies. “yes? you like ‘em, baby?”
ellie nods only once. “let’s go get you some food. you barely ate the waffles i made this morning.”
you chose to ignore her comment, nodding your head and entering the brand new chevrolet trailblazer after she opened the door for you, it slamming unintentionally hard before ellie’s strolling to the drivers seat. you take attention to her attire today; all black, tight black tee and slightly loose jeans, her white calvin klein briefs showing as she hikes herself into the truck. always expensive smelling; like musk and vanilla. the chain you’d given her with your initial currently being frustratingly chewed at as she put extra pressure into the gas.
you keep your thighs pressed together with your hands nuzzled in between, forearms pushing your tits adorned in your baby blue tube top together, the white tennis skirt on your hips too high up, making your thighs stick to the leather seats. the humidity is high outside today, reaching over to turn the ac on. ellie’s barely paying attention to you, which means she’s upset, her attention on you ninety-six percent of the time.
“baby, i’ve missed you all day,” you lean comfortably against the seat as you turn your head in her direction, lifting one hand to caress her jaw, leading up to the chocolate brown hair on her head, half tied up. her green eyes give you a mere glimpse, unnoticeably gripping the steering wheel tighter from the way you speak and the siren glare your eyes. fuck, you’re irresistible.
“have you,” she mumbles, breath hitching the lower your hand trails, now smoothing over her neckline, drifting to the slim of her waist as your fingers lift her shirt, nails gently scratching her tanned skin.
ellie tries to ignore the heat building in her tummy. “all. day.”
the truck stops at a red light, ellie taking this moment to look at you, watching the way your hips seductively sway in your spot. a thick brow raises at your attempt of distracting her, more-so making her forget about what you did. she’s not dumb.
“stop, your being a brat,” ellie says sternly, but you protest, a pout on your full lips and your eyes blown innocently. your hand drifts further down, nearing the front of her chest to feel the fabric of her sports bra to the warmth of her stomach.
“i want you,” now you’re leaning over the center console, ellie’s cheeks turning red as you skim your lips over her flushed skin, ellie’s free hand reaching over to firmly press the pads of her fingers into your soft thigh, directly near your pussy.
“was thinkin’ about you during my hair appointment earlier, tried my very best not to cum in my seat,” your hair is pretty, the bouncy dark curls fitting the structure of your face perfectly. ellie clenches her jaw at the thought of that. “you make me so needy.”
the swerve of the car makes you grip onto her inked drawn forearm, staring at the road cautiously as she finds somewhere secretive to park. an empty alleyway. ellie breathes out heavy air before she’s rolling up the windows and turning up the music slightly, hold on by the internet playing soothingly. a mixture of pleasure, excitement, and nervousness paints the picture on your face, biting your lip to keep your sounds to yourself.
ellie runs her hand through her hair, leaning back in her seat she adjusts back to give you enough space to reside. ellie leans over your side to wrap her right arm around you waist, using the other to lock under your legs to pull you over the console, a squeak coming from your throat as she adjusts you on top of her, back to her chest.
“spread your fucking legs,” her breath tickles your earlobe and immediately you whimper, slick built up in your panties practically all day. you didn’t care if this was a punishment or for her own satisfaction, you just wanted her to fuck you. “right now, [ ♡ ].”
your name drips off of her tongue like poison, sinking your teeth into your lower lip even harder, her skin on your skin intoxicating. without another command, you disconnect your knees to open yourself up for her to access, sneaker covered feet touching the glass of the drivers window while your other leveled in the air. you feel ellie’s fingertips slug onto the middle of your thighs where the heat brews, aggressively smacking your inner thighs, as well as the outside.
you moan, breath shaking and grinding above her, head rolling back to rest on her shoulder, her touch inflaming your entire body. voice alone enough to make you cum. ellie pulls on the black material covering your pussy, patting her fingers over your clothed clit almost seeping through from your slickness. inhaling sharply from the impact, you whimper a tiny ‘nnn, baby’, trying to push yourself onto her palm for added pressure. ellie grunts, hand coming around your neck to choke you and hold you still.
“take this shit off,” ellie breathlessly whispers, snapping the material against your brown skin, the grip around your throat tightening.
you do as told, ellie placing her hands on the globes of your ass to hover you above herself while you slip off your panties, leaving them to rest at your ankles before lowering you back to sit on her lap. she’s soaked in her briefs right now, but you couldn’t tell, whining like a needy girl, only worrying about yourself. your cheeks are hot, eyes lowered erotically while you stare at your girlfriend, wanting her to hurry.
“so mad at you for those pretty ass nails,” she spanks your thigh again, your tummy caving in and your clit pulsing. “getting that fucking shape knowing you can’t fuck me for another two weeks.”
“s-sorry, daddy,” you feel yourself drip between your ass cheeks, staining her jeans.
“no you’re not, or else you wouldn’t ‘f done it,” your stomach caves in as ellie’s palm rests on your jaw, thumb digging in your cheek as she forces you to watch yourself, study the way she strokes your puffy pussy with her fingers, spreading your arousal.
“oh my god, you’re so goddamn wet,” ellie moans keenly, jaw dropping and brows knitted together as her fingers feel the warmth of your pussy, slowly sinking into your glossy cavern briefly. “i shouldn’t even fuck you. don’t think you deserve it, mamas.”
the way your eyes are stuck in the back of your head from her voice in your ear makes you wheeze, unable to pause the way your hips grind into her, needing her so badly it was becoming painful. you turn your head to kiss at her thumb, sticking your tongue out to lick and suck at it, ellie fixating on your tits beginning to slip from their enclosure of your top. ellie wastes not a moment later tugging them to sit underneath the heaviness of them, piercings gleaming on taut nipples. her palms take ahold of them, squeezing and molding with awe.
“fuck yourself,” her tongue underneath your jaw now, your body nearly tilted completely to your right side as you roll with pettiness, that bratty whimper filling the vehicle. ellie holds your legs back for better view, and you wanted to crawl into the back seat. part of you dissatisfied with her request.
the sadness in your eyes shows as you mutter, “c-can’t, ellie. my nails.”
“don’t wanna hear it, sweetie. should’ve thought about that before you got them done,” ellie kisses your neck gently, always managing to be sweet even through anger. “do what i say. rub your pussy, you can’t have my fingers ‘til i say so.”
if you complied, she’d have no choice but to pleasure her wife. make you feel good like she always does. so, you do as told. taking your right hand to rub your clit in pathetic little circles, soaking yourself and her at this point, ellie shifting beneath you with pent up sexual attraction, listening to how wet you were for her, loud even over the music. a never ending reward.
“nng, daddy, wan’ you,” a choke gets caught in your throat as you arch your back and collect your wetness to rub yourself quicker. although it feels good, it’s not enough, it’s not what you really crave, what you’re desperate for. you want her fingers.
“you can go fuckin’ faster,” ellie grits her teeth in your ear, spanking your thigh once again. . . maybe even three times. just enough to hear you scream and cry. “c’mon, girl. make it sweet. i want it wet enough to drown my fuckin’ fingers in.”
the key words; my fingers. that draws a sadistic grin onto your face, a happy one at that. she’s craving to stuff her fingers into you just as much as you want them. she just needs you to comply. to be a good girl. do as you’re told. fuck yourself like you want it. your clit throbs incessantly, highly sensitive from your fantasies all day about her. . . swollen and needy for attention.
“lick my fingers, ells,” guiding your fingers towards her mouth, ellie wraps her lips around them without a second thought, getting them wet while swirling her tongue around and moaning filthily. you moan along with her, whimpering from the interaction, eyes shutting briefly from the pleasure building in your tummy.
“you’re so hot,” you whimper with truth, she truly was. her jade eyes intensely drooping before she releases your fingers, eyes darkening as she leans closer to peck her pouty lips with your own. a quick one two, before slurping her salvia down her throat, humming loudly.
“yeah. now guide ‘em to that pussy, and fuck it for me,” she’s not repeating herself anymore. you nod quickly, rubbing her salvia over the mound of your cunt before slivering your fingers to your opening, collecting more of your juices and spreading your pretty lips apart for the engorged clit hiding between. ellie pulls her upper body to rest her head against the doors window while your head falls back onto the seat, wanting to catch a better look, blindly thrusting her hips up into you alls while digging her fingers into your waist to yank you down simultaneously. the friction and collision causing you to sob and rub yourself faster the way she likes to see.
“there we go, atta girl,” she loves to give you that motion of actually fucking her, ellie’s eyes almost rolling back into her skull as she drops you down a bit quicker, hearing that beautiful voice of yours talk in tongues, or call her name. “that’s it, mamas. you look so pretty for daddy.”
“f-fuck!” a sob erupts from you, ellie’s harsh thrusts fucking with your head. the imagery running awry. “g-god, ellie!”
“need my fingers to finish, princess?” ellie coos teasingly, dropping you down even harder, your pussy bumping onto the bulge of her jeans that formed after slipping further down her slim waist. you couldn’t wait to get home so she could really fuck you. bring out that special toy she liked to call her dick.
the cries are almost violent, scratching at her arm with your unoccupied hand and sobbing uncontrollably, telling her everything. you really have been needy, huh? “yessss, p-pleaseeee, fuck me ellie.”
“fuck, sound so good,” ellie halts her movements, yanking your hand out of the way and laying back in her spot to pull you closer. you cough out a moan when she inserts her middle and ring finger, ellie hissing from the tightness. “awe, baby. we gotta stretch you open some more.“
“oh my god,” your eyes scroll into the back of your head while your mouth drops with a broken gasp, ellie cussing under her breath when she sees a coat of white covering her fingers, dipping them in and out of your cunt steadily.
“baby, you g’na make me eat you up, my fucking god,” ellie’s truly fascinated, sinking in and out, even curling them to get a reaction out of you. your body spasming above her. “pretty fucking cream. s’gorgeous, sweetie.”
the tightness of your walls clench and pull her deeper, ellie’s palm interacting with your clit as she slams her fingers in hard, a high pitched scream echoing from your mouth and immediately ellie slaps her palm around your mouth, jaw clenched as she whispers, “shut the fuck up, take that shit baby.”
a tear falls down your face from the overwhelming pleasure, your skin slapping amongst her palm as she fucks you to your final orgasm, her mouth gnawing at your throat bringing you to the brink after she bites down and drags out a moan along with you. your hips shake rapidly, chest heaving and riding out your high against her hand. ellie grabs your face with her wet palm to kiss you aggressively, gliding her lips with yours in a passionate, slow kiss. you feel it all over your body, pussy aching for more. ellie’s anger subsiding . . . at least after she fucked you dumb into the mattress later on that day. safe to say, never get stilettos without permission again.
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© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡
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amiableness · 7 months ago
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Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1486 words
series masterlist ; main masterlist
You promised the girls just one blind date—nothing more, nothing less. At the time, it seemed like a harmless favor. But now, sitting across from your date in a dimly lit restaurant, the air thick with the aroma of their signature dish, the indistinguishable chatter of nearby diners, and the clatter of dinnerware, you’re starting to question that decision.
Connor shrugs, slicing into his steak with casual ease. “I didn’t do too much today. Babysat my nephew since my brother begged me,” he says, his tone indifferent. “But honestly, I hate babysitting his kid.”
“You don’t like kids?” You ask, doing your best to keep your voice neutral. You gingerly push your fork through another piece of pasta, trying to maintain an air of indifference.
He looks up at you, his dark curls nearly black and bouncing with the movement. “Hate ’em,” he says without hesitation.
You can’t help but notice how much he resembles an off-brand version of James, and it frustrates you. His familiar features keep pulling your thoughts back to your best friend instead of your date. At least, that’s the excuse you’ve been clinging to for the past hour.
“Oh.” You say softly, placing the food on your tongue and chewing slowly as you stare down at your plate.
“Do you have a kid or something?” You look up, a pause in your chewing as you find Conner holding his glass and watching you closely like he’s hoping you’ll say no.
Your first instinct is to say yes, and you nearly cringe when you realize your mistake.
You finish chewing and swallow hard. “Uh, no,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for your wine to wash down your feelings. “But my best friend does. Single parent.” You’re not sure why you felt the need to add that last part.
Connor leans back in his chair, nodding slowly. “Well, good for her,” he says. He isn’t sure why you’re telling him this, and frankly, he doesn’t care.
You sit up straighter. “Him,” you correct. Connor raises an eyebrow and not much later, he calls for the check.
James is surprised when he sees your call. He knows you’re supposed to be on a date—Lily mentioned it—and he’s been stress-cleaning his house ever since. Halfway through he gave up and turned a movie on instead.
“Darling?” He answers, “Is everything alright?”
“It could be better,” you say with a laugh that falls short of genuine humor. “I’m not too far from your place. Could I come over? I’m just at the Windmere.”
“Yeah. Let me—” There’s shuffling on the line as James grabs his jacket. “—I’ll meet you.”
You huff, “No. You’ve got Henry asleep upstairs.”
“It’s five minutes.” James protests, heading to the kitchen to grab the baby monitor off the counter.
“Exactly, Jamie. I’ll be there soon. I love you.” You hang up before he can respond, leaving him thoroughly disappointed. He appreciates every chance to tell you he loves you, even if it’s just as friends.
It takes you less than five minutes to get to his house, and James flings open the door before you can even knock, making you giggle.
“You worry so much about me, Potter.” You say with a teasing smile as you push past him and kick off your heels, the click of the shoes hitting the floor echoing in the entryway.
James stands by the door, his gaze following you with a mixture of concern and affection. “Of course I do. How could I not?” He replies, his voice earnest and warm.
You shrug off your jacket, and James’s gaze quickly settles on your tight black dress. The silky fabric clings to your figure and moves fluidly as you shift. James feels like he’s going to pass out from the sight—you look incredible, and he’s painfully aware that you’ve dressed up for another man.
He swallows hard, attempting to keep his voice steady. “So, how was the date?” He finally asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you might say next.
You feel a warmth rise to your cheeks, the slight embarrassment making you smile softly. “What gave it away—the dress or the girls?” you ask, your fingers lightly brushing the fabric of your dress as if to acknowledge it.
“The girls,” he admits, a small chuckle escaping him as he glances over at the baby monitor to check on his son. “But the dress would’ve been a dead giveaway if they hadn’t.”
You laugh, the sound light and teasing as you catch his gaze. “They’re awful at keeping secrets, aren’t they?”
“Was your date supposed to be a secret from me?” He asks, making his way to the couch with a curious look. The cushions sink slightly as he sits down, and you follow suit, settling in beside him.
“No, it wasn’t,” you say, surprised, turning to face James with wide, sincere eyes. “But I wasn’t exactly excited about it, either.”
He leans back, eyebrows furrowed, “Why not?”
You take a deep breath, your fingers nervously tracing the hem of your skirt. “I don’t know,” you admit, voice softening as you look away. “I’ve never been on a blind date before, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up. And I guess... I’m glad I didn’t, in the end.”
James watches you closely, his eyes filled with curiosity. He’s trying not to appear too eager to learn about this date of yours. “Why’s that? Didn’t go well?”
Tears well up in your eyes, and you quickly blink them away, hoping James doesn’t notice. But he does. “I just... I don’t know how to find someone,” you admit, your voice shaking slightly. “And it’s so discouraging that my friends set me up with a guy who’s completely wrong for me—well, except for his looks.”
James opens his mouth to ask what the guy looked like but holds back, sensing that this isn’t the moment.
“What does that say about my dating life?” You continue, a tear slipping down your cheek. “If my best friends don’t even know what I like in a guy?” You sniffle, your fingers brushing absentmindedly over your lips as you stare down at Henry’s toys scattered across the floor.. “I think I need to put myself out there more. Go on as many dates as possible. I need to meet someone.”
James feels like he’s going to be sick. He’s floundering for a way to tell you that, no, you absolutely shouldn’t. But how can he say that?
He hesitates, searching for the right words. “Is there a rush? To find someone, I mean.”
You shrug, your gaze still fixed on the floor. “I know we’re both young, but I feel like if I don’t find someone now, it’ll only get harder down the line.”
“Oh.” He responds softly, the weight of your words hanging in the air.
A heavy silence settles between you, both lost in your thoughts, until you break it with a shaky voice. “Is there something wrong with me?”
James snaps his head up, startled. “What? No! Why would you even think that?” He asks, incredulous, his tone laced with concern.
“I’ve been asked out three times in my life,” you say quietly, your voice trembling. “And two of those were back in school. Is there something wrong with me?” Finally, you turn to look at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears clinging to your lashes.
“Darling, no,” James insists, his voice filled with genuine concern as he scoots closer to you on the couch. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “You’re perfect.”
You sniffle, managing a small, sad smile. “Don’t lie to me, Jamie,” you say, trying to keep it light, but he can hear the trace of hurt beneath your words.
“I would never,” he murmurs, placing a tender kiss on your head as you settle back into his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothes you. “You’re everything anyone could ever want—an absolute dream girl.”
“Stop it.” You whisper half-heartedly, though a part of you wants to believe him.
“I’m serious,” he insists, his voice firm yet gentle. “Whoever you end up with will be incredibly lucky.”
A comfortable silence falls between you, the room filled only with the soft sounds of your breathing.
“I’ll help you look for dates, if you want.” He offers suddenly, the words slipping out before he can stop them. Regret washes over him immediately; he wishes he could take them back. The mere thought of you on a date with another guy twists his stomach into knots, but actually helping you choose someone else? Brutal.
You tilt your head to press a kiss gently to his jaw. Your voice is a soft whisper, filled with gratitude, “Thank you, Jamie.”
He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this.
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heytheredelulu · 1 year ago
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Temptation
Bucky Barnes x Reader
18+
Word count: 1.5k
POV: You text your boyfriend a nude selfie while he’s working and now he can’t stop thinking about it.
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“You ain’t even touched your dinner, Sarge.” You said with a frown, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.
Bucky set his fork down and raised an eyebrow at you. “Sorry doll, but it’s hard to think about anything other than bending you over this table after that little stunt you pulled earlier.” He replied, a smile playing on his lips.
Your mouth fell open and you uncrossed your arms, shifting slightly in your chair. “Oh.” You breathed out.
He nodded slowly, pushing his chair back and standing up. “You thought you could send me picture of those pretty tits of yours while I was in a briefing and I wouldn’t wanna come home and watch ‘em bounce while I fucked you stupid?” He asked.
Your cheeks grew hot and you looked away, chewing your bottom lip, his words sending a wave of arousal crashing over you.
“No, you’re not gonna play shy, doll.” He said, his voice taking on an almost menacing tone. “You weren’t too shy to make my dick hard when I was workin’. I gotta say, I was pretty disappointed when I came home and found you settin’ the table for dinner instead of laying up on it with your pussy spread open and waiting for me.”
Bucky reached out and snatched your wrist, pulling you to your feet. He tilted his head as he waited for you to respond but as your eyes drifted downwards and landed on his cock, hard and straining against his jeans, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
Without a moment of hesitation, he grabs you roughly by your hips and forces your jeans down, splaying his large hand across your back to push your chest forward to meet the table. He takes a step back, admiring your bare ass bent over the kitchen table like a full meal on display that he couldn’t wait a moment longer to devour. He reaches out and kneads your ass cheek, his fingers digging into the flesh just enough to make you squirm before he releases you to free his cock. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor was the only warning you received before he kicked your feet apart and sunk himself into you.
“Fuck.”
He bottomed out, his hands gripping your hips and holding you flush against his pelvis as he readjusted his stance.
You let out a whine more akin to a moan at the torture of him remaining painfully still while buried balls deep inside you. “Move.” You begged, your hands curling into fists against the table on each side of your head. You knew he was intentionally drawing this out, punishing you for sending him that damn selfie.
Your plea was met with a sharp slap to your ass and you tensed before the cool metal of his left palm soothed the sting. “Buc-“ You begin to plead again but your words are lost in a gasp as he draws his hips back withdrawing almost completely before thrusting forward deep enough to kiss your cervix.
“Use your words.” He demanded in a low voice, stilling once again.
“God damnit.” You hissed, sucking in a deep breath. “Move. Please.”
A chuckle rose up from his throat and you knew that if you’d be facing him you could see his beautiful mouth twisted into a smug smirk.
“Was that so hard?” He crooned, snapping his hips forward and drawing a moan from you in response.
You shook your head, unable to respond as he slammed into you relentlessly, the legs of the table scraping against the floor from the force of his thrusts, the dishes sliding off and shattering as they hit the floor.
Your breath catches in your chest as heat blooms deep in your abdomen at the sensation of his thick cock dragging along your walls.
Bucky’s hand slides up your back gathering your hair in his fist, pulling it hard and forcing your back to arch as he yanks you up towards him so he can see the look on your face as he fucks you. Your eyes connect with his over your shoulder and the sight of his pupils blown, his brows knitted together and his mouth agape as he relishes in the feeling of your pussy milking his cock does you in. You choke out a cry and tremble beneath him, white hot pleasure crawling up your spine as you fall apart. He fucks you through it with his eyes half lidded and jaw clenching while he watches you crumble, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk.
“Fuck, baby.. I love you so much.” You whimper out in a breathless daze.
He inhales sharply and releases his grip on your hair. Your head nearly drops to the table before he catches your jaw firmly in his hand, his eyes wild and intense. “Goddamn, say it again.” He growls through gritted teeth, rutting into you at a renewed pace.
You groan in satisfaction as his hand tightens on your jaw, squeezing your cheeks together. Your voice comes out broken and hoarse as you whimper repeatedly, “I fucking love you. I love you. God I-“ Your words fall short as you cry out, your pussy clenching and fluttering around him as another orgasm rips through you. His grip slackens and he slides his hand to your cheek, his thumb caressing your flushed skin.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” He mumbles. “So fucking beautiful when you come all over my cock.”
Bucky’s words of praise send a shiver up your spine but disappointment washes over you when without warning he’s pulling out and leaving your pussy aching and empty. You look back at him with furrowed brows and a pout, confusion written across your face. He chuckles softly and leans forward to press a kiss to your temple.
“Don’t give me that, doll.” He murmurs against your hair, his arms coming around you to move you onto your back. “You were twistin’ that pretty little neck of yours to keep your eyes on me.” He gives a gentle squeeze to your throat for emphasis as his breath fans across your cheek. Your eyelids slip shut as his hand leaves your neck and he places his large hands on your inner thighs, spreading you open again. The weeping tip of his cock presses against your thoroughly fucked hole and he bites back a moan as he watches himself disappear into your cunt inch by inch.
“Look at me.” He demands, picking up rhythm. He dips down to press his forehead to yours, a shuddering breath escaping his lips as you flick your eyes up to meet his gaze. “I’m not pullin’ out.” He growls, nipping at your bottom lip. “Eyes on me, doll. I’ll be damned if you don’t watch when I fill you.”
You groan in response and meet his mouth with your own, kissing him deeply and carding your hands in his hair. He chuckles softly into the kiss and breaks it momentarily to slide his hands under your shirt and cup your breasts. “Oh?” He let out a low chuckle. “You want that, baby?” He asked, brushing his thumb roughly across your nipple. “You want me to fuck you full of my cum?”
“Yes, please. Fuck.” You whimpered, using your grip on his hair to pull him back to you. Your mouth parts on contact, your tongue slipping past his lips to taste his in a sloppy and desperate kiss that only spurred him to drive into you even harder. Every violent thrust drew a moan deep from your throat that he swallowed as his tongue fought yours for dominance. You caught his bottom lip between your teeth and tugged, eliciting a growl from him in response and he broke the kiss, rearing back and looking down at you with primal need. He reached to wrap his hand around your throat again, pulling you up to crash his mouth against yours, groaning into it as his movements begin to stutter and lose rhythm.
“Fuck. Baby, I’m gonna come.” He breathed out in between kisses. Your hands curled around his shoulders fingers into the flesh and leaving bloody crescent moons as you whimpered in response. “Please!” You cry out, tipping your head back against the table. Bucky grunts and leans down, your extended neck a welcome invitation that he takes, biting, kissing and sucking along the tender flesh. “Eyes on me.” He says firmly, slipping his hand from your neck to your jaw and forcing your head back down.
“Fuck!” He shouts with a final thrust, his hands flying to your hips and bringing you flush to him as his head tips back and your name falls from his lips among a string of curses. He tenses and stills, his cock twitching inside you as he pumps you full of his hot, sticky essence.
“Jesus..” He mumbles, reaching to lazily palm your breast before cupping your cheek in his hand and looking down at you with affection while he remains seated inside you.
You laugh softly, bringing your hand up to rest over his and hold it to your face. “Damn.” You whisper, a smirk spreading across your face. “Remind me to start sending you pictures more often.”
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machveil · 4 months ago
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follow up from this post where Johnny stole a mask from Simon
Simon who grumbles at Johnny for taking one of his balaclavas. “Just borrowed it, L.T.! Didnae know you’d be pissy ‘bout it.”, Johnny chuckles, arms crossed as he watches Simon scowl at him. “Prob’bly stretched the damn thing out.”, voice low and gravelly, unamused with Johnny. he only pauses when Johnny laughs, hearty and genuine
“Aye, it was a hit though. Wore it all night.”, a lopsided, proud smile tugging at Johnny’s lips. Johnny, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, can’t help but tell Simon about how much you liked the mask - how it gave you a good laugh, a quick kiss through the fabric, about your little escapade with Johnny, “Should ‘ave seen ‘em, Simon.”
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CW: Johnny x Reader x Simon, ambiguous relationship dynamic - up to your interpretation, they’re both wearing Ghost’s balaclavas because Simon owns multiple
maybe you bit off more than you could chew, a rough hand on the back of your head, hips propped up as you’re being pounded into. “C’mon, who is it?”, it’s hard to make who’s talking, too focused on the stretch of one of their cocks - Johnny and Simon wearing those damn balaclavas. they had shoved your face against a pillow, Johnny - you think - lapped at you, fingers abusing your hole, before one of them starting fucking into you. any time you caught sight of one of them all you saw was that familiar skull pattern
“Give ‘em a break, poor things too dumb to know.”, maybe it’s Simon? god, you can’t tell— knees buckling and crying out when you orgasm. it’s too much, drool seeping into the pillow you’re laying on, limp as they - Johnny? - hold your hips up. “They should know— know who’s breakin’ ‘em.”, choked noise leaving you with a particularly hard thrust, you whine when they pull out. it’s not long before they switch, one hand pressing down between your shoulder blades, another petting your hair, “Doin’ good, love. Took Simon nicely f’me—”. Johnny, cutting himself off as he groans, sinking into you with a stretch you know all too well
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st7rnioioss · 1 year ago
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Can you make a smut with sex chocolates where Matt suggests trying them to see who collapse first and the reader say yes and she sits on his lap while he’s gaming then one of them collapses and he takes her to the bed thanks!
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆ is this what you wanted?
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matt x fem!reader warnings: fluff, smut, praise kink kinda?, SEX!!, horrible writing.
a/n: omg i loveee this request. sorry if im writing shitty bye, i literally have the sickest writers block rn. anyways - thanks for requesting this!! i hope this is what you meant <33
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“Matt, what’s this?” you asked. You and Matt had just gotten home from buying groceries, but you didn’t see him put any chocolate into the basket.
“Ohhhh, that,” he looked up from his bag. “Don’t freak out or anything, but it’s sex chocolates, I saw it online. It’s supposed to make you super horny and your orgasm is supposed to be amazing,” he smiled, kind of nervously.
You giggled a bit. “You wanna try ‘em? I’m down,” you smiled, walking up to the counter Matt stood, as he nodded.
You handed the chocolate to him and he broke off two pieces.
“They should start working in like 15 minutes,” he chuckled, his mouth full of, now chewed, chocolate.
“Real charming, Matt. Real charming,” you giggled.
“I have a bonus. We should try and see who can last the longest,” he smirked, leaning over you.
“Challenge accepted,”
Here and there Matt would kiss you, but just to tease you, he’d continue down your neck until you begged for more, stopping suddenly, leaving you completely disorientated, or grabbing your waist to stroke his crotch against you, making you even wetter than you already were, still begging him ‘just fuck me already’, but he didn’t
As Matt said, around 20 minutes later you felt it starting to work really well. You knocked on the door to your room finding Matt, sitting by his computer playing Fortnite. He was hard.
“Hi baby,” he turned from the screen. “You feel it working?”.
“Mhh,” was all you responded. You didn’t want to blow your cover, but yes, it did work. And it had for the past 10 minutes. You were practically dripping already, searching for friction at any surface.
Matt was distracted by the screen again, but you walked up to him to position yourself on top of him.
“Woah, easy there,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold the controller again. Your legs were on either side of his lap, arms around his shoulders, resting your head on him. His cock pushed up against your hamstring.
At first, there was just silence, the only sound being the clicking of the buttons on the controller or Matt occasionally murmuring a quiet ‘fuck’ under his breath. As the chocolates kicked in, your core only became more needy. You gently rolled your hips on him, earning a quiet whimper from his lips, making you clench around nothing.
“God- don’t do that,”  Matt said in a stern tone, which made you pull back to look at him.
“What? I’m not doing anything,” you acted dumb, doing it again, making yourself whine from the crave of friction.
“Babe, I’m trying to win this,” he snickered, turning serious again.
You could feel his body tense beneath you, his cock hardening as he unintentionally pushed his hips back up. His gameplay got worse and worse until he died.
“Fuck,” he cursed again, but this time it was whiny. Needy. He looked up at you, dropping the controller onto the table to grip your hips. This time you shifted on him “trying to find a comfortable position”, but really you were just out to tease him. He groaned, his brows furrowing, eyes still locked onto yours.
“I swear to god, if you keep going I’m gonna have to fuck so good you won’t be able to stand,” he muttered, making you throb. He slid one of his hands up the side of your body, making you shiver, the other one sliding down, reaching the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging gently at them.
“Do you give in? I can feel you throbbing, y/n,” he smirked. Fuck.
“N-no. Not yet,” you rasped, placing your hands on the back of his head.
“Alright then,” he said hoarsely, pushing your sweatpants down your thighs, not fully taking them off. You inhaled sharply as he gently tapped on your clothed pussy, stroking the wet patch on your panties.
“All this, from only the chocolates? I didn’t even touch you, hm?” he teased, pushing your panties to the side with one finger.
“Oh my god-” you whined as he slid his fingers through your wet folds, back and forth.
Matt kept his eyes locked on you, a smirk playing on his lips, watching you squirm. He then inserted his middle finger into your dripping pussy, pushing it all the way in before adding his index, making your mouth fall wide open.
“Holy fuck, so tight,” he breathed out, starting to push his fingers in and out repeatedly. He leaned in to kiss you hungrily, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth.
“Matt- please,” you whimpered between the kisses, thrusting down on his fingers, practically begging for more.
“Please what? Use your words, baby,” he said in a mocking tone, almost pulling his fingers all the way out before thrusting them deep back into you.
“M-matt,” you moaned, your eyes tightly shut. “Please- I give up. You win, now please fuck me,” you whimpered. The chocolates were really getting to you.
“As you wish,” Matt smiled proudly, removing his fingers to carry you to your bed.
He gently placed you on the end of the bed, removing your sweats and panties in one, and pulling your shirt off for you.
“Oh fuck. You’re so fucking beautiful, y/n,” he breathed out, leaning over you to leave kisses down your neck and collarbone, kissing harshly enough to leave spots that would turn dark purple later.
Your fingers immediately went through his dark hair, twisting and pulling it.
“Matt- please just- fuck me,” you whined, his teeth colliding against your skin.
“Since you asked so nicely,” Matt smickered, pulling away from you to take off his t-shirt, sweatpants, and boxers.
He then leaned back down, his hands on either side of your head, kissing you from your cheek to your neck, collarbone, and chest.
“So pretty,” he groaned, pulling out whiny and needy whimpers from you.
“Matt- I need you, please,” you pleaded, your hands resting on his bare chest.
“Patience darling,” he teased, kissing you behind your ear before pulling away. His hand wrapped around his already hard cock, pumping himself a few times. You just stared with pure desire.
“Tell me if you want me to go slowly in, okay?” he reassured you before lining himself up with your throbbing entrance, his hands still on each side of your head to steady himself.
“O-okay… Please do,” you smiled, gripping his bicep, your other hand resting on his chest.
He nodded and slowly started to push himself into you. Immediately, your eyes squinted shut, your mouth wide agape, breathing heavily. You have had sex before, but you had never completely adjusted to his size.
“So fucking tight, oh my god,” he groaned when he had fully pushed himself into you. 
“Y-you can start going, please,” you whimpered, throwing your head back and he slowly pulled out to push himself back into your pussy, making a quiet slapping sound. His thrusts started growing sloppier, harder. Not going back in slowly, but thrusting himself into you. 
“Yeah, does that feel good, baby?” he smirked, noticing the intense look on your face. You nodded, unable to form any words. His hand reached out to grab your face. 
“Words.” he said in a demanding tone.
“Y-yes- it feels so good-” you cried, your nails digging into his bicep, you other hand gripping his hair. He seemed to like that, because he picked up the speed, thrusting himself harder into you.
“Matt!” you moaned, clenching around him. It’s not that it hurt, he was just rough. 
“Please, Matt- can you be gentle,” you whimpered, moaning loudly as he slammed back into you.
“You’ve been teasing and begging me for this, y/n. Don’t act like you can’t fucking take it now,” he hoarsed, ramming into you again, his horse pendant necklace dangling from his neck right in front of your eyes.
“But-” you tried to protest, but you ended up moaning, almost pornographically. Suddenly, the familiar knot started tightening in your stomach. 
"Taking me so well, hm? Is this what you wanted?" he pulled almost all the way out, sinking himself back into you harshly.
“Y-yes.. Matt, I’m close-” you wailed, panting for air. 
“You can hold it,” he kept going at a fast pace, now grabbing your hips with one hand, making you clench around his cock as he had better access, repeating his name.
“Holy fuck, we’re up for a noise complaint. Don’t stop though, you look so hot like that. Such a whimpering mess, screaming my name, huh?” he said, mock-concern plastered all over his face. You had no response, shutting your eyes tightly, moaning as you could tell your orgasm approach. Matt could tell too. 
“Open your eyes. I know you’re close, and I want to see your pretty face when you cum all over my cock,” he muttered, feeling himself nearing his climax as well. His hand on your hip reached for your clit, rubbing it in circles, immediately increasing pace.
“Matt! Oh fuck-” you cried, your legs shaking as you came around him, your eyes locked onto his.
“Holy shit-” he whimpered as he kept thrusting into you. The feeling becoming too much, you grabbed his shoulder and dug your nails into his skin, sure to leave moon-shaped spots all over him.
“Fuck, Matt please stop- It’s too much,” you sobbed, gripping his wrist to remove his hand from your clit.
“I’m close. Y/n!” he moaned, squeezing his eyes shut as you clenched around him repeatedly, which was his last straw. You felt his cock twitch inside of you as his cum filled you up. Your breaths are still heavy, the both of you panting for air. Matt then slowly pulled out, his cock covered in both of you’s cum.
He dumps down beside you, both of you now lying on your side.
“You’re fucking awesome,” he smiles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You chuckled.
“So are you,” you smiled back, tiredly.
“Sorry if I was rough. I don’t know, you just- yeah. You’re awesome,” he smiled, this time a more nervous, innocent smile.
“No, don’t worry about it, Matt. I kinda liked it,” you giggled, picking up his pendant necklace to fiddle with it.
He leaned forward to kiss your forehead, his fingers tracing the dark spots he left on your neck earlier, which were now purple with a yellow undertone. "Was your orgasm as amazing as I said it would be?" he laughed and you joined him.
"Yeah, it was. You always make it amazing tho. Chocolate or not," you whispered, running your hand through his hair.
“I love you, y/n” he whispered, stroking your cheek with his knuckles.
“I love you too,” you whispered back, grabbing his head, kissing his lips softly.
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a/n: goodbyeee, i cant be the only one who physically cringe when i read my own smut. also, please feel free to leave requests in my inbox, it really makes my mind work a bit more lmaoooo. anyways - i hope this is what you meant! dont want to disappoint anyone lol.
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© st7rnioioss. all rights served. please do not repost, copy or steal any work of mine without giving credits and asking for permission first.
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