#I don’t feel so out of the loop anymore

[malsmind]

vampire!matt 𝐚𝐧𝐝 antisocial!reader 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭

✰ - content warnings: ★ underage drinking ★ smoking weed ★ social anxiety ★ kissing ★

you never called.

you told yourself you would. maybe even typed out the number once or twice, let your thumb hover over the call button before hitting backspace. but you didn’t. couldn’t. not after that night—your stupid drunk ass practically asking him to stay, to sleep beside you, to want you in some way that wasn’t just homework and arguments. you’d been humiliated before. plenty of times. but something about that hit different. something about matt—about how he turned you down softly—fucked with your head in a way you hadn’t expected. and so you ghosted him. not intentionally. not cruelly. you just… faded out.

you didn’t sit next to him when you studied anymore. only texted him when absolutely necessary. and he didn’t push it. didn’t bring it up. still—tonight, under the lazy summer stars, sitting in some half-dead field your best friend dragged you to, you felt his eyes on you. they’d been on you all night. you were parked on the grass alone, knees drawn to your chest, arms looped around them. your best friend was off with chris again—shocker—and the handful of people left around the speaker were half-baked and laughing about something you weren’t listening to. you could feel the tension before you even saw him walking toward you, a quiet buzz in your chest.

matt.

you didn’t look up until his shadow blocked your view of the stars. you glanced, gave him a small shrug like yeah, sure, sit if you want. he did. no one said anything for a while. just the hum of shitty bluetooth speaker bass and distant laughter drifting through the grass.

“you didn’t call,” matt finally said. his voice was low. not angry. just… there.

you swallow. “yeah.”

he looked at you out of the corner of his eye. “why not?”

you shrugged again. “busy, i guess.”

he huffed. it wasn’t a real laugh, but something close. “you’re a shit liar.”

you didn’t argue. your knee was bouncing restlessly, and you knew he noticed. he was stoned, definitely—smoked just as much as everyone else tonight—and drunk on top of it. you could smell it on him. but his eyes were clear. locked on you.

“you wanna get outta here?” he asked suddenly.

you blinked.

“what?”

“i mean, not like—” he rubbed the back of his neck. “not like that. just… the park. y’know.”

you hesitated, teeth digging into your cheek. the thought of more social interaction made your stomach twist—but being here, surrounded by couples and chaos, feeling like a third wheel in your own life?

that felt worse. so you nodded.

the skate park was nearly empty, like always. cracked pavement, rusting rails. a couple of busted floodlights flickered high above, but most of the place was cloaked in dark. you sat on the edge of one of the bowls, sneakers hanging over the side, staring at nothing.

matt talked more than usual. not in a bad way. just… openly. about nothing and everything. his shitty coach, how his board was getting worn out. how the music scene in town sucked lately. how much he hated group texts. you listened, mostly quiet. nodding occasionally, but your knee wouldn’t stop. you were jittery. skin too tight. thoughts spiraling. the dark always did this to you when you were high—it made you feel like you were too loud in your own head.

he must’ve noticed.

“you okay?”

you nodded before you thought about it. “yeah.”

“you’re lying again.”

you sighed, finally looking over at him. “i don’t like nights like this. being out. the dark. i dunno. just… doesn’t feel good.”

he leaned back on his palms, studying you. “you wanna go back?”

you shook your head. “no. it’s better here.”

his brows rose slightly. “with me?”

you glanced away again, embarrassed. “you’re not the worst.”

a small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “damn. a compliment.”

you huff a laugh. the smallest one. it doesn’t last long. the silence stretches again, but this time it’s heavier. you feel like you’re floating slightly—like the high’s still in your system but fraying at the edges. everything is hazy, but him—the sound of his voice, the way his fingers twitch when he talks, the shape of his jaw under the dim light—he’s sharp. in focus. grounding.

why?

why does he feel...safe?

why him, of all people?

he’s angry, impulsive, cold. half the time you can’t tell if he even likes you. but here he is—talking to you like you matter. noticing the tiny things. saying nothing about the other night. not mocking you. not being an asshole. it’s fucking confusing. and then—like he can hear the storm of thoughts ripping through your skull—he says it.

softly. like a secret. a question, not a demand.

“can i kiss you…?”

your breath catches. you turn your head toward him slowly, pulse hammering. his expression is unreadable—eyes glassy from the high, lips parted just slightly, but his voice had been clear. cautious. waiting. you don’t say anything right away. your heart’s in your throat. your chest aches. you don't know what to say. you remember how it felt to be vulnerable. how it felt when he pulled away.

so instead of saying anything, you just stare at him. matt watches you for a few seconds. then sighs and sits up straighter, dragging a hand down his face.

“it’s fine,” he mutters. “forget it.”

“no,” you say, too fast. your voice cracks.

he pauses. turns to look at you again.

you lick your lips. “i just… don’t get it.”

“get what?”

“why you’re so nice to me.”

he blinks, like he’s surprised that’s what’s on your mind.

you keep going, words tumbling out before you can stop them. “you’re not like this with anyone else. not really. you’re—cold. you fight everyone off. you hate people. and i get that. but you’re not like that with me and i don’t get it, matt.”

he looks away for a long time. jaw clenched. breath shallow.

and then, he just shrugs, “i don't know what you want me to say.”

the silence that follows is crushing. you stare at him, heart roaring in your ears. he still won’t look at you.

“i jus' like talkin' to you, i dunno..” he says, quieter now. “you're interesting.”

you don’t know what to say. you never expected him to say any of that.

he laughs once—dry, bitter. “see? this is why i don’t talk. i sound fucking insane.”

you finally move—reach out, barely touching his arm.

“you don’t,” you whisper.

his eyes snap to yours. you lean forward, heart beating out of your chest, and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it. just once. soft. quick. when you pull back, you’re both speechless for a second. he stares at you like you’re something he never expected to hold. you don't even know how you built up the courage to kiss him, don't even know if that's what you actually wanted to do, but you did it. he was most likely going to never speak about it again. and you definitely weren't either, but it happened.

dividers by @issysh3ll

₊⊹ - @tits4matt @mattspillowprincess @h3arts4nat @starryfantasydreams @sturns-mermaid @sturniolochrismatt @sturrrrnslvt @bluessturniolo @spaghettislut1 @kittybitch @abbystromboli @urlocallera @loser41ifee @courta13 @phonysuperstarr @sturnsrecord @bbgirlmatt @secretlifeofspace @mattssslutbby @backwardshatnick @oopsiedaisydeer @tezzzzzzzz @sturniolosluttt @aflairforthedramattic @matts-247 @pink1man @sturniolo-szn2 @herewegoagain-b

[outtamynoggin]

Love your dick incorrect quotes 😭💞💞I feel so happy reading them btw how doo u think the batfam would react to seeing alot of pictures of dick in the Wayne mannor (b had this big ass painting of dick in the middle in the hq show and in an old comic there was a wall sized portrait of those two XD

Thank you so much!!

Batman #13

This one right? There's a few others too!

Is this the one about the HQ? From the Harley Quinn show. oh wait hq stands for Harley Quinn 🤣🤣🔫

Either way, I love how Dick Bruce's obsession with Dick is just so constant across media and across decades. DC is literally honing in on him being favorite.

The show is literally unhinged:

Bruce, what? Can you say it in any other words???

Actually in the show, Damian sees the one when they're all dining because he's gaming on the couch and he's so chill about it. Like he just expects it.

Damian: Of course, there's a photo of Richard on the wall. He is the favorite. It is only right that father commissioned a Renaissance-scale shrine for him.

Meanwhile Jason is like: What am I, chopped liver?

While Tim's like: You're actually more like burnt liver.

Tim: *ducks as a whole friggin couch goes sailing over his head. Stands up smirking only to get tackled by a hulking mass of undead muscle*

Damian: At least Todd has a picture on the wall.

Tim: *Pool noodling his way out of Jason's grasp* That's cause he thought both of them were dead which is why he has the pictures up. Only Dick's is the size of a cathedral alter like Bruce commissioned it from the Vatican which he then framed in solid gold. You don’t hang something like that unless you expect people to pray to it. Jason's got shoved into a tiny corner at the bottom.

Jason: *throwing his hands up* CAN I WIN JUST ONCE IN THIS HOUSE?!

Tim: Are you Dick?

Damian: *smirking* No.

Tim: Then no.

Jason: You little twerps. I'm gonna string you two up and throw you out the batplane.

Stephanie: *walking in* Who's throwing who out of a batplane?

Tim: *scoffing* Jason's throwing me and batbrat out of the batplane.

Stephanie: Oooh! Sounds fun, can I join?! I'll bring the ropes!

Tim: You're not even going to ask why???!

Stephanie: *deadpan* Tim. I don't need a reason to throw you out of the batplane.

Tim: *Offended*

Jason: *Laughing and high-fiving her* God you get me.

Stephanie: But for curiosity's sake-

Damian: For the sake of curiosity-

Stephanie: -Why?

Damian: Todd is emotionally compromised over Father's unrelenting favoritism toward Richard.

Stephanie: Oh. Well, duh. Everyone likes Dick more.

Tim: Facts.

Stephanie: That's Batfam Lore™. What brought it on this time though?

Tim: We were talking about the massive picture Bruce has in the dining room. 

Stephanie: Oh my fudge cake gods. That Picture! Do you know how hard it is to eat even a cheese stick while being stared down by a thirty-foot tall Dick Grayson?! Like, what is wrong with Bruce! I’m pretty sure the reason Dick doesn’t visit the manor anymore is because he’s too weirded out by a bigger version own self staring at him. 

Jason: THANK YOU. Someone with a decent sense of propriety. And why the hell is it life-sized?

Stephanie: Barbara loves it, though. She thinks it's hot. Calls it "Big Dick Energy: Collector’s Edition." But she and Bruce are weird about him.

Tim: *muttering* I think it’s nice.

*Silence.*

Stephanie, Jason, and Damian: *Collectively side-eyeing him*

Stephanie: Right.... You were always weird about him too.

Tim: Wha- I was perfectly normal!

Damian: Drake. You once stood in front of the living room one for six hours straight.

Jason: Ye- six hours? Really?

Damian: He did not eat. He did not move. Father thought he was stuck in a time loop.

Jason: *Turning a disbelieving gaze on Tim* Dude....

Tim: *Flushing* I was just… observing! Deep observation! For art appreciation!

Stephanie: It’s not the fucking Louvre, Tim. That picture has been there through 7 kids and it's going to be there for at least 7 kids. But really, does Bruce have to have so many pictures of Dick?

Jason: *Rolling his eyes* Tell me about it. Don't forget the life-sized one in the library. I went in to read and accidentally ended up having a staring contest with a 2D Dick. Lost both my dignity and the will to finish my book.

Jason: *Gesturing wildly* You can’t eat in peace, can’t read in peace—hell, I tried to take a nap on the couch once and woke up face-to-face with a mantlepiece-sized Dick smile. I thought I died and went to Grayson Heaven.

Damian: Also the framed photos of him littering Father's study so he can stare at them while he works. I'm inundated with his visage every few rooms.

Stephanie: I bet even Alfred’s like, "Sir, perhaps a fourth room of paintings is excessive."

Tim: He’d never say that. Alfred’s part of the cult.

Damian: *Nodding* Pennyworth once wiped dust off the frame and whispered, "Good as new, Master Richard."

Jason: *voice cracking* Okay, you know what? I can’t do this anymore. I’m moving to Crime Alley. At least there, there’s no Dick—

Stephanie: There’s literally a Nightwing mural spray-painted across an entire wall with the word "Hope" like Gotham’s Beyoncé.

Jason: *crying* Fuck. Exactly. EVEN THERE I CAN'T ESCAPE HIM.

Damian: *judging him* This is a personal failing.

Jason: *frothing at the mouth* No, you would think that, wouldn't you? You’re the last person who should talk! You get all misty-eyed and say "We were the best, Grayson" every time Dick breathes near you!

Damian: *smirking* That is because it’s true.

Jason: *Collapsing on the coach and trying to avoid looking at the framed picture Dick on the side table* ....I can't believe I'm saying this... but thank you for being the normal one, Steph.

Stephanie: *Laughing nervously* Uh, yeah. Sure! No problem!

Tim: *Rolling his eyes* You're thanking the wrong girl. She-

Stephanie: *Wacking him unconscious hurriedly* SO! Who wants waffles!!

[autarelle]

Loving you

Stack x Oc

A/N- I just wanted to thank you guys for the love I’ve been receiving on my first post very thankful. Here’s the first chapter fully sorry for keeping you guys waiting!

Oc name: Cecilia Lilac Moore

❤️❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A soft smile tugged at her lips as laughter spilled out, light and breathless, from the ticklish warmth of his breath brushing her ear.

“After you give me a kiss, I’ll go down, baby,” she murmured, voice playful with a teasing edge.

Stack wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands moving in slow, comforting circles. He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, shaking his head with a smirk.

“Stop bein’ hard-headed, girl,” he said, letting her go.

She leaned in and kissed his cheek, leaving behind a bold red lipstick stain like a signature.

“Holla if you need me. Let’s go, Sammy—I wanna hear your song.”

She and Sammy disappeared down the stairs, giggling like kids, their laughter drifting through the air—carefree, caught up in their own world of inside jokes and warmth.

Back upstairs, Stack’s smile faded into stillness. His gaze shifted to Smoke, unreadable as always.

“You still foolin’ around with Mary?” he asked, blowing a slow stream of smoke to the side.

Stack let out a low chuckle, his steps already carrying him toward the stairs.

“Nah… she just don’t know how to forget about a nigga,” he said, voice casual but tinged with something heavier.

Downstairs, Mary spotted him—and like a magnet, she pulled herself across the room. Her arms slid around his neck, her presence bold, unapologetic.

“You’ve been back a whole damn day and didn’t even bother tellin’ me?” she asked, eyes narrowing as they searched his face. Her voice dropped, the hurt bleeding through.

“My mama passed. Y’all couldn’t even send flowers… after all she did for you—put a roof over your head, fed you and your brother when nobody else would.”

Stack looked down at her, guilt flickering behind his eyes. He glanced around the room, making sure no one was watching too close.

“We sent your mama plenty of flowers while she was still alive to smell ’em,” he said, peeling her arms gently from his neck. “So don’t come ‘round here throwin’ that at me.”

Mary’s expression twisted—grief, betrayal, and rage all fighting for space on her face.

“Go to hell, Stack. You left me like I was nothin’. Just up and disappeared. Didn’t even come back for me. Ran off to Ceily… and then had the nerve to put a ring on her finger.”

Stack met her gaze, guilt softening his features.

“You’re a married woman now, Mary. I was tryin’ to keep you safe. You know I still got love for you… just not like that anymore. Cecilia’s my woman.”

Mary pushed him back, the movement sudden and sharp. Her heels clicked hard against the floor as she turned away—only to bump straight into Sammy.

“Well damn… Little Sammy?” she said, a smile cracking through her mood. “You old enough to drink now, boy? Come on, lemme buy you one.”

She looped her arm through his and pulled him toward the bar, eager to drown the past in something cold and strong.

Once they reached the counter, her eyes lit up with recognition.

“Annie?” she grinned. “Still holding it down behind the bar.”

Annie gave a knowing smile, already reaching for the bottle.

“Two whiskeys, please,” Mary said, sliding a couple bills across the counter.

As Annie poured, Mary turned to Sammy, her expression softening with warmth and something close to nostalgia.

“Damn, you’ve grown up, huh? You’re so big now.” Her eyes swept over him. “How’s that guitar treatin’ you? Made any money off it yet?”

Sammy shook his head, a shy grin tugging at his lips as he picked up the glass.

“Nah… not yet, anyway.” He took a small sip. “Still learnin’ the tricks, gettin’ the feel for it.”

He set the glass down and looked at her, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

“What are you?”

Mary raised a brow, then dramatically looked around like someone might be listening.

“Well, last I checked, I’m human,” she said with a mock-offended tone, then broke into a teasing smile. “I’m playin’ with you, Sammy. I know what you meant.”

She leaned in slightly, voice dropping to something quieter, more vulnerable.

“My mama’s daddy was half Black. That side of the family… it don’t show up much in me, but it’s there.”

Sammy looked into her eyes and nodded slowly.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Her smile faded into something quieter—grief simmering just beneath the surface.

“It’s alright,” she said, voice barely above a whisper. “What I can’t get past is the twins not showin’ up. Not even a rose at her funeral. After everything she did for them…”

Sammy lowered his gaze, staring into his whiskey like it held the answers. The weight of silence pressed between them.

To be continued…

[leaderwon]

CHAPTER 20: THE LINE WE CROSSED ANYWAY

wc — 1.2k+

prev — masterlist — next

You weren’t expecting him. Not again.

Not tonight.

After everything that was said, the tension, the hurt, the way you’d both walked away from that conversation like it had burned through bone — you thought that was it.

Closure. Or something close enough to pretend.

But then came the knock.

It was nearly midnight. The rain had turned heavier, smearing against your window in quiet, erratic rhythms. You’d wrapped yourself in a blanket on the couch, your playlist looping in the background, trying to pretend the ache in your chest wasn’t real.

And yet there he was.

Jake, standing in your doorway, soaked to the skin.

His hoodie clung to him, curls flattened to his forehead, hands tucked into his pockets like he didn’t know what else to do with them. He looked wrecked — not from the rain, but from you. From whatever had been eating at him since he left.

You stared at him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low, breath catching. “I shouldn’t be here.” “Then why are you?”

Jake didn’t answer right away. He just looked at you like the words were crawling up his throat, heavy and sharp.

“Because I couldn’t stay away,” he said eventually. “I thought I could, but I can’t.”

You didn’t move. Didn’t say anything. You didn’t trust your voice.

“I told myself to let it go. That maybe you’d be better off without me making it more complicated. But every time I tried to walk away—”

He stopped. Swallowed. “I kept seeing your face.”

You folded your arms, trying to stay cold, composed, detached. But your heart was slamming inside your chest like it knew something your brain hadn’t caught up to yet.

“Jake, you can’t keep doing this. You show up. You say things like that. Then you disappear.” “I know. I’m not trying to mess with you. I swear, I’m not.” “Then what are you trying to do?”

Jake took a step forward, voice cracking now. “I’m trying to be honest.”

You shook your head. “You’re late. You had your chance to be honest when the letters came out. When everyone turned their back on me. When you stood right there and said nothing.”

“I know,” he said again, quieter this time. “And I hate myself for that. You have no idea how many times I wanted to go back. To change that moment. To fix it.” “You can’t.” “I know. But maybe I can fix this.”

You stared at him, wet and shivering in your doorway, eyes wide with desperation. And it hurt. It hurt so much because you believed him. Because this boy standing in front of you wasn’t the same Jake who looked away when you needed him most.

He looked lost now.

Raw.

“You should come inside,” you muttered before your heart betrayed you entirely. “You’ll catch a cold.”

Jake stepped in slowly, dripping puddles behind him, and stood awkwardly in the middle of your living room like he didn’t know where he was allowed to exist anymore.

You didn’t offer him a towel. You didn’t offer him comfort. Not yet.

You just looked at him, really looked, and for the first time in weeks, you didn’t try to shield the mess of feelings behind your eyes.

Jake noticed. His gaze softened the second he caught it.

“I didn’t come here to make excuses,” he said quietly. “And I’m not expecting anything. I just… I needed you to know.”

You leaned against the arm of the couch, arms crossed tightly over your chest. “Know what?”

“That I still think about you. Constantly.”

He took a step forward, slow, cautious — like you might vanish if he got too close.

“That I miss the way you talk about the things you love like they’re magic. That I still remember the sound of your laugh in the hallway after that one awful math test we failed together. That every time I see you with someone else, I feel like I’m suffocating.”

Your breath hitched.

“You don’t get to say things like that and expect it to erase what happened.” “I don’t want it to erase anything,” he said. “I just want it to mean something.”

Jake was so close now. The distance between you barely a breath.

“I hated seeing you with Sunghoon,” he admitted, voice quieter. “Not because I don’t think he cares. But because it should’ve been me. It always should’ve been me.”

You didn’t want to cry, but it was getting harder to hold it in.

Because it had always felt like him, hadn’t it?

From the first letter you wrote. From the way he always made space for you in every crowded room. From the little things, like the way he always remembered how you liked your coffee, or the way he’d look at you when he thought no one was watching.

You blinked up at him, jaw clenched. “Then why didn’t you say it sooner?” “Because I was stupid,” he said simply. “And scared. And because I thought if I buried it deep enough, it’d go away.”

You shook your head slowly. “You’re an idiot.” “I know.”

A beat.

And then, because some part of you couldn’t stand the weight of silence anymore, you asked, “Do you still feel that way?”

Jake’s eyes met yours.

“Every single day.”

Your heartbeat slammed against your ribs, loud and wild and unforgiving. He was so close now you could feel the heat radiating off his skin, see every raindrop clinging to his lashes.

And then it happened.

It wasn’t soft or hesitant or some perfect movie moment. It was desperate. Messy.

Years of buried emotion colliding in one reckless second.

You leaned in first, maybe without even realizing, but Jake met you halfway. His hands flew up to your face like instinct, like he’d been holding back for years. Your mouths crashed together in a kiss that was more raw than romantic, more ache than poetry.

But it was real.

It was everything.

Jake kissed you like he’d been waiting a lifetime for it. Like he wasn’t sure he was allowed, but now that he had you, he wouldn’t let go. His hands cupped your jaw gently, thumbs brushing your cheekbone as your fingers curled in his damp hoodie.

You pulled back just barely, both breathless.

“I’m sorry,” Jake said, voice hoarse. “That was—”

You interrupted him by kissing him again.

This time, slower. Less frantic, more deliberate. You tilted your head and melted into it like gravity had been pulling you toward this exact moment since the very beginning.

It was different now.

Intimate. Lingering.

He kissed you like a promise.

Like something broken finally falling into place. When you pulled away again, your foreheads touched, breaths uneven. Neither of you spoke for a moment. There was too much to say and nothing that words could hold.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he admitted, voice a little unsteady. You just nodded, too full of feeling to speak.

Jake looked at you like you were the only person in the world. Like every broken thing in him had finally found something steady to hold on to.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he said softly. “I just needed you to know how I feel.” You bit your lip, eyes flickering to his. “I think I already did.”

His smile was barely there, but it reached his eyes — tender and disbelieving and full of something warm.

And then you leaned in again, one last time — and kissed him just because you could now.

Because something had shifted.

Because maybe the line had been crossed.

But neither of you were stepping back.

Not anymore.

[joaosnovia]

hey girly! Please can you write a little fic about João x reader after Ac milan got knocked out of the champions league? Completely fine if not and take your time! LOVE UUUU 🫶🏻🫶🏻

❦ - perché così triste?

warnings:: not really much of angst but sad tone

writers notes:: it’s significantly short but i hope you like it baby! and i love you too girl!

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp @universefcb @mariejuli @hollyf1

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the apartment still smells faintly like the popcorn you made in the first half. you never even touched it.

you hear the front door open slowly, then close with a soft click. he’s home.

you don’t get up right away. you’re curled into the corner of the couch, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, the tv off now but the silence loud. your heart’s been aching since the match ended, but even more so for him, because you know how badly he wanted this. how much he gave.

the footsteps are quiet. almost hesitant. and then he appears, hair messy, his bag dropped by the door, head low. his eyes flick up when he sees you.

‘hi,’ he says, voice rough like he hasn’t spoken since the final whistle.

you blink a few times, then nod. ‘hi.’

he stands there for a second, like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. and then he sits next to you, not saying a word, just leaning back and staring at the blank screen like it’s still playing out in front of him.

‘you wanna talk about it?’ you ask gently, turning to face him.

he exhales hard through his nose. ‘not really. it’s all just... in my head. looping.’

you reach for his hand. it’s cold. he doesn’t pull away.

‘you played your heart out,’ you whisper. ��i’m proud of you.’

his jaw tightens. he turns to you, eyes red rimmed and glossy. ‘it’s not enough, though. i gave everything and it wasn’t enough.’

you hate seeing him like this. not because he’s sad, he’s allowed to be. but because he’s blaming himself. carrying the weight of a whole team, a whole stadium, on his back like it’s just his fault.

‘joão,’ you say softly, moving closer. ‘this isn’t all on you. football’s brutal. sometimes it’s magic and sometimes it’s just... cruel.’

he leans forward, elbows on his knees, dragging a hand through his hair. ‘i keep thinking, if i’d just finished that one chance, maybe...’

you slide off the couch, kneel in front of him, your hands cupping his face.

‘hey. no “maybes.” not tonight. you were brilliant. i saw you out there. fighting, running, not giving up. you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.’

he closes his eyes. a tear slips down, but he doesn’t move away from your touch.

‘you know,’ you add, voice a little shaky now, ‘i’d still love you even if you didn’t touch the ball once.’

he lets out the softest, smallest laugh. like he doesn’t have the energy for anything bigger. but it’s there. and when he opens his eyes, they’re full of that look, the one that always breaks you a little, like he’s letting you see the most vulnerable part of him.

‘you always know what to say,’ he mumbles.

‘nah,’ you smile. ‘i just love you. that’s all.’

he pulls you into his lap then, arms wrapping around you tightly like he’s scared to let go. and you let him. you let him hide his face in your shoulder and breathe you in and feel safe, even if just for a minute.

you stay like that until his breathing slows and his grip loosens, and you’re not sure who’s holding who anymore.

but maybe it doesn’t matter.

because right now, you’ve got each other. and sometimes, that’s enough.

[gremlinshatephilosophers]

Okay. So. Can I admit something?

I’ve watched Dan and Phil for almost 10 years now, mostly casually (I was aware of them during the vlogger/brit crew era and I’ve been following them more in the last ~4 years or so on and off). I’ve watched nearly every video of theirs on both channels and the gaming channel at least once.

Anyway. Today I finished it. I finally watched the undertale series for the first time.

[chericheribaby]

Isn’t it So Fun when you don’t use ur socials anymore (like your personal accounts where irl people knows u) and one day u r scrolling through tt and u stumble upon a tt from a friend thinking that they just started posting on there and then u go “oh great! imma watch their stuff to give them boost!!” and then realizing, as u go through their account, that they’ve been posting for several months now and they’re doing quite well and you’re just founding out 🫠

[luveline]

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞

you get a good dose, confess your affections, and leave poor, oblivious hotch to fix things up neatly. 

cw painkiller high, light suggestive theme 

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

“Hello.” 

You lift your gaze without blinking. Hotch is standing in the doorway, making his way in with a bouquet of flowers tucked under one arm and a white envelope against his chest. 

“Hello,” he says again, meeting your wide, still eyes with concern. “You okay?” 

“Flowers for me?” 

“You’re the one here in a hospital bed. They’re from me and Jack. He insisted.” 

You nod up and down robotically. Your heart is unhappy today. You’ve been fast and slow and now it’s running fast again, a tip-tip-tip on the heart monitor that makes Hotch frown. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “They told me you were on a lot of pain medication, you shouldn’t be hurting anymore. Is it not working?” 

“I feel a lot.” 

“And that’s unsettling,” he surmises.

“Can I have my flowers?” 

Hotch offers them to you immediately. “Why don’t you count to a hundred for me?” 

“They’re beautiful, but there’s not that many.” 

“Count to one hundred. I can start. Do you need me to start for you?” 

You dip your face into the flowers. “I love when you say stuff like that.” 

Hotch doesn’t answer you. You begin counting, hoping he’ll say a nice thing if you do as he asked. The numbers get mixed up after thirty five, there really aren’t enough flowers to count to a hundred, but when forty five and fifty four begin to feel like the same number spiritually, Hotch reaches for your forearm and gives it a squeeze. That means job well done. Nobody else in the team gets arm squeezes —they’re for you. Nobody else has noticed, but you have. 

“Thank you,” he says. 

You beam at him. The heart monitor beeps in slow loops. “You’re welcome. Did it help?” 

“I’d say so.” He takes off his suit jacket and puts it over the back of the chair, pulling the chair towards the bed with his foot, and getting comfortable beside you, a little lower down than you but tall regardless. “Are you feeling alright?” 

“I can’t believe you got me flowers.” 

“I got you flowers the last time you were injured.” 

“I know,” you say with a laugh. “I know, it was amazing.” 

“Here’s your card from Jack. I’ve opened it for you, I hope that’s okay.” 

“I cannot open anything. I tried to stab my pudding open with a spoon and broke it and can’t find the sharp part in my blankets. I’m worried it’s going to poke me.” 

Hotch stands from his chair. “That’s not good.” 

You take up Jack’s card, pinching the folded printer paper and pulling all of its homemade glory from the envelope. The front has a red heart drawn with bandages wrapped around it, and inside is a message written in impressive penmanship considering his age. To Y/N, it says, Please get well soon. We are hoping you to have a speedy recovery! Love you, Jack and Aaron 

“It says you love me,” you say. 

“Mm, Jack wrote the message. He misses you.” 

You catch the feeling of Hotch’s hand where it slips between your legs and almost burst, giggling excitedly, which makes his hand jump away from you like a fish out of water. “You have the spoon!” 

“Found it. No more danger.” 

“Thank you. I knew you could find it.” 

“Don’t mention it.” 

The pain medication Hotch spoke of is starting to make itself known. You hadn’t felt very different to begin with, the only worthy note your absence of pain, but right now you feel weird. Light. Happy, but strange, like the opposite feeling of missing a step. You know something’s wrong and you know it’s the medication, but you’re elated at the same time. Hotch is here. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe he’ll know. 

“Do you think I feel happy ‘cos of you or the morphine?” you ask. Softly, slurring, you swallow and try not to sound as drunk. “I feel amazing.” 

“It’s the morphine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Well, it’s been a long time since I had some myself, but I remember feeling amazing at the time, and you’re on a lot more of it than I was.” Hotch sets himself back down in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Are you staying for long?” 

“Until they make me leave,” he says. 

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. Yesterday you were here for ten minutes and I felt like my heart was bruised.” 

He doesn’t speak for a moment. His eyes seem darker than usual. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I had to be home to take care of Jack.” 

“I know you had to, it’s not your fault, but I still missed you.” 

You prop Jack’s amazing card on the nightstand with a proud grin. You love Jack Hotchner, he’s the smartest, kindest, sweetest boy you’ve ever met, and it must be because of his parents. You’ve not met Haley many times, but Hotch is amazing. It makes sense that his kid would be just as awesome as he is. Turning your attention back to the flowers, you find the courage to ask, “Do you think you could bring Jack to see me?” 

“I think he might be a little young for hospitals, I’m sorry.” 

“Well, maybe I can see him when I’m out of the hospital? How can I say thank you for the card? Does he still like bears?” 

“He has enough bears,” Hotch says gently. “You don’t need to buy him anything, he just wants you to get better soon.” 

“You’re such a good dad.” Your lashes kiss with the force of your smile. “You’re lovely. Jack is really kind.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re handsome,” you continue, slinking down in the bed. You feel tired but not sleepy, craving a really big, hot sandwich. Hotch holds your gaze. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“What?” he asks quietly. 

“Can you please get me a big, hot sandwich? Maybe with hot chicken? Or spicy chicken in a burrito? I really need it to be hot.” 

Hotch laughs aloud and reaches for your forearm to squeeze you again. “Of course I can. I’ll call Derek and I’ll make him get you both of those things, if you like.” 

“Oh, good. I really really don’t want you to leave but I really want the sandwich more than I want you to stay.” You tip your head to one side. “If you hugged me again I’d say I want you to stay more than I want the sandwich, ‘cos you haven’t hugged me in a long time.” 

“Does that bother you?” he asks, the pad of his thumb working against your wrist. 

“No, I know I’m not supposed to want you to hug me.” 

“We’re friends,” he says, shaking his head, “good friends, aren’t we? It’s alright if you want a hug. I should be better at giving them.” 

When he was with Haley you wouldn’t have dreamed of wanting it, because your affection for him has always been more than a friend‘s. You’ve guarded the secret carefully over the years. What’s more unfair to a wife than to fancy her husband? But Haley left Hotch, and he’s been single for a while now, and you think that lately he’s actively dating. He’s always had pride in his appearance, but his suits are tailored again. His hair is left to grow beyond what’s easily maintained. He and Dave occasionally joke about him getting back out there —he doesn’t need to get out there, you’re right here. 

You can’t help frowning. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“I think I’m a bad friend.” 

“You aren’t a bad friend.” 

“I am, I have ulterior motives.” 

Hotch rolls his eyes. “Honey, everybody does. You’re fine. You’re a good friend. You know you’re the sole member of the team who’s remembered Jack’s birthday every year? Remembered mine?” 

“I don’t do that to be a good friend, I just love Jack.” 

His hand slips down to yours. He holds it briefly. “I know you do.” 

“It’s why I remember yours,” you say, shaking your head, annoyed he’s taken his hand back but ready to move on to better things. “Can you ask Derek for my sandwich now, please? Please, please, I’m so hungry I’m gonna die.” 

Hotch gives you a funny look. “How about I go and get you your sandwich? I’ll be very fast. I’ll go to Sam’s across the street, would you like that?” 

“Can I have maybe a donut too?” 

“Sure, honey. I’ll get you a half dozen.” 

“Really?” 

“Sure. Do you want any in particular?” 

Hotch goes off to get you a sandwich and you click the button for more morphine without really thinking. You’re asleep before he gets back.

—

You wake up shaking. 

Aaron straightens in his chair. He hadn’t meant to doze off, but it’s nearing the end of your visiting hours and he’s been here since three. Your sandwich is stone cold in the bag and he’s not sure how he’ll get it warmed up.

Your arms are trembling badly. 

“Are you alright?” he asks. 

“Sorry.” 

“What for?” 

“Hotch, where am I?” 

Aaron stands. “You’re in the hospital. You’ve had some morphine and it ended up sedating you. The shaking will calm down soon, but nothing’s wrong, okay?” 

You’re noticeably confused, and Aaron hates it enough to sew his fingers between yours. His are thicker by quite a bit, but he’s used to smaller hands. He’s careful with you. He can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier. 

The undercurrent of fear you’d been harbouring begins to ebb. You let Aaron hold your hand and settle back down into your sheets, turning your face toward him and shutting your eyes. You don’t seem sleepy. He’s not sure what’s wrong. 

When you say you love him, he understands. He loves you, too. He doesn’t think that he’s in love with you, but he could be. He’s had enough guilty daydreams about it, batted them away, moments doing the dishes or at the gym or when you’re standing together working a case, where he forgets to forbid himself the pleasure and imagines you in simple intimacies. He sees himself taking your hand. He pictures waking up to the smell of you on his pillows. When he’s especially pent up and you’ve haunted him with your bare face or a shy smile, he ends the day thinking of you. How he’d kiss your head with just a little of his weight atop you, or a lot. 

And then he feels so horribly wrong for doing it that he resigns himself to the distance between you forever. 

Aaron doesn’t know what you want from him, but he knows he could fall in love with you if given the chance. He has to determine how honest your morphine-confession was, and there’s no time like the present. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he asks softly. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back. 

“I brought you the donuts and a sandwich, but I’ll have to reheat it. I’m sorry.” 

“Did I ask for a sandwich?” you ask, startled.

“A hot one. You emphasised.” 

“Thank you, Aaron. I don’t think I’m hungry now, I’m kinda queasy.” 

“You had a little bit more morphine than you should’ve.” 

“Sorry.” 

“Sweetheart,” he says under his breath, “that’s not your fault.” 

You squeeze his hand weakly. Any want to draw the truth from you is quickly dwindling. All he wants now is to make sure you’re okay. 

He spills himself closer to you and, without untangling your hands, brings your thin blankets to your shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay. The queasiness won’t last long. In fact, eating might help, but we can wait.” 

“Don’t you have to go home?” 

“No, I can stay if you want me to.” 

“Please, I want you to.” 

“You’re still on the morphine,” he says, rubbing your hand, “I can ask them to lower your dosage if you don’t like it, but you have to remember that it’s keeping you unaware of your pain.” 

You hesitate. “I don’t want it to hurt.” 

“Then it won’t,” he promises. You had more than your fair share of pain. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper. 

“You’re welcome.” 

“This is all I want. For you to look after me.” 

He takes a measured breath. “I would love to look after you.” 

You turn your head half an inch to see him. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah, I think so.” He’s trying to blend the half of him you know at work with the half of him responsible for his outer life, the part of him that flirts with beautiful women at bars, the part of him that loved being a husband. “I don’t know what you want, and now isn’t the time, but,” —he prepares to be brave— “if you want me to look after you, then I will.” 

“You promise?” 

“I promise.”

“Can you kiss me?” 

His heart skips a beat. “No, honey, I can’t, I’m sorry.” 

“Not even on the head?” 

His stomach aches, but it’s a good feeling. Like worrying you lost something and finding it in the first place you’ve looked. “On the head I can do.” 

You squeeze your eyes closed in wait of his kiss, a light, chaste brush of the lips to your temple. The morphine makes you laugh, a girly, giggly bubble of it as you burrow into the sheets, like he’s tickled you. He’s twice as endeared when you squint at him like you’re waiting. 

“Can I–”

“One more,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead again. “Any more than that and you’ll die of embarrassment when you’re not drugged out of your mind.” 

“I’m not out of my mind. I’m just hallucinating. Or having a great dream.” 

He’s inclined to agree, but he knows with confidence he hasn’t had any heavy medication today. He gives you a fond look and sits back down, obliging you when you scramble to put your hand in his again. It’s a weight he could get used to holding.

“I really like you,” you confess quietly. 

He quite likes you in return. “That’s great, honey. Do you want to talk about it later? Maybe you can have one of your donuts.” 

You don’t take his misdirection as rejection, you just pull his hand to your chest and smile. “No thank you. I can wait.” 

He can wait too. 

[hanquokkasjeekies]

“fuck me” “say please”

idol!bangchan x f!reader

word count: 1.1k

genre: smut, established relationship, one-shot

summary: "i just know you couldn’t live a day without my cock"– you and chan decide to see which one of you breaks first from not having sex.

warnings: creampie ⋆ oral (f) ⋆ kissing ⋆ thigh fucking ⋆ degradation ⋆ dom/sub dynamics ⋆ switch!chan and switch!reader implied ⋆ mentions of breeding ⋆

~ ~ ~

“you're definitely the needier one in this relationship, you know that, right?”, chan says, leaning on the kitchen and watching you make your tea.

you glance at him over your shoulder and scoff, “you’re joking, right?”

chan’s giving you an amused, cocky smile now. “you can’t have already forgotten how you were literally drooling over my dick last night and begging me to fuck you dumb”

“then what about the other day when you came in your pants just from eating me out?”

chan’s ears turn red as he stares down into his coffee mug but he’s refusing to give up. “–that was just because you wore that pretty underwear i like… i just know you couldn’t live a day without my cock stuffing your needy pussy ~”

“you’re deluding yourself now.” you sigh in fake sympathy, shaking your head.

and that’s how your little game of who would give in first, started.

a week has passed since then and things have been going fine... up until now. you're lying on the sofa all comfy, and you know you shouldn't have, but as soon as one thirst trap of chan popped up in your feed–you couldn't help yourself. after going down a long spiral of thirst traps of him, you finally put your phone down and try to calm down.

chan’s still in the shower, unaware of the extreme mental struggle you're going through. you close your eyes in an attempt to sleep but all you can think of is chan; his smile, his body rolls, his smirking face, his dimples– everything is playing on a loop in your head.

you stand up, walk around the room, touch the table, stare at the ceiling and pour yourself a glass of water.

the sound of the shower next door stops and soon chan’s walking out of the bathroom in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. you avoid looking in his direction when he walks in, but you steal a glance when he’s turned away from you. his curly hair is damp and dripping droplets of water onto his neck that run down his back. his muscles flex slightly as he wipes his towel over the back of his shoulders.

you choke on your water in silence and desperately wish chan would just leave.

'wet' is an understatement for what’s happened between your thighs; you’re soaking like a bitch in heat seeing a dick for the first time.

chan, being his usual cuddly self, comes over and hugs you from behind.

“baby, you feel a little warm. are you okay?”

“mhm” you nod. but the way you shiver when he speaks against your head isn’t convincing. his arm brushes against your breast unintentionally and you moan softly.

“ahh, my babygirl’s feeling horny, is she?” he runs his hands over your thighs.

you give in and lean your head against his chest, “mm~ yes, chan, i can’t stand it anymore.”

he grabs your chin so your face is inches from his. your lips brush his and you whisper, “fuck me.”

a gentle smile spreads over face and his voice is almost condescending as he replies, “say please.”

but something inside you won’t let you say it– maybe it’s your silly pride. so instead you say, “make me, chan.”

he bites his lip and easily moves you so you’re bent over the counter. he presses up behind you, placing open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he pulls down your panties and rubs your clit, fast and rough– enough for your legs to give out, leaving you slumped over the counter, gasping. he pushes your thighs together, shoves his cock between them and begins thrusting hard– each time, the tip rubbing against your swollen clit.

and then he pulls away from you, pressing down on your back so you can’t move.

“sluts like you with no manners don’t get what they want, mmkay? so be a good girl for me and say, ‘please, chan, fuck me and fill me up with your cum’- while spreading that cute ass. i know you can do it, sweetheart.”

as you reach a hand back to spread your butt, exposing your dripping cunt, you mumble against the cool marble of the counter, “mm, fuck, please, chan… please fuck me”

“almost ~ you forgot the ‘fill me up with your cum’ part” he places a hand over your neck.

you do as you’re told and say, “chan, i can’t– just, please fuck me- fill me up– breed this pussy, please please plea-” but chan’s already thrusting into you, hard. the truth is, he’s been waiting for this just as much as you have; his breeding kink isn't helping either. he couldn’t stop now, even if you begged him to.

“you’re so fucking warm and, shit, so tight around me… perfect– taking me like this.” he’s rambling from how good it feels to finally be inside you after an entire week.

you whine and tremble as you feel yourself about to cum. you can tell chan’s close from how his breathing has gotten ragged and his thrusts are getting sloppier.

“gonna breed this pussy ‘m gon’ fuck a baby into you-” chan mutters as you both cum.

he lifts you up so you're sitting, facing him on top of the counter. he pushes your thighs apart and sweetly kisses around your cunt. “ahh, chan, you don't have to– ‘s too sensitive”

“i’ll be gentle; just need to clean you up”, he says before licking into your folds.

later, after you’re both cleaned up, chan can't help reminding you that he was right about your little game.

“i knew you were gonna give in first. so dependent on my cock, aren’t you~” he cooes before kissing you softly.

you pull back, all defensive, “like you can say much– you came so fast”

chan laughs, “says the person who begged me to breed her.”

“that was just to get you to put it in, you pervert… you made me wait forever.” you reply stubbornly.

“fine, fine… just, how about we never do this kind of challenge again– it's torture.”

“mmkay~” you say, secretly a little relieved, “and also, don’t make me beg like that again.”

chan whispers right into your ear as he walks past, “but i know you liked it~”

you squirm and roll your eyes, not wanting to accept the part of you that would gladly beg for chan on a daily basis.

‘say please’, you hear his voice in your head as you scoff, remembering his annoyingly smug face from before– but you know you'll get him back for it sometime soon.

[luna-azzurra]

Character Movements #1

╰ Sighing

Not just “he sighed.” That’s lazy. Give us the why behind the air. Is it the kind of sigh that deflates their whole chest, like they’ve been holding the world on their lungs? Or one sharp exhale through the nose, all frustration and fed-up energy? Maybe it’s quiet—barely audible. Maybe they don’t even realize they’re doing it. But the room shifts a little when they do. Sighs can mean “I give up,” or “finally,” or “not this sh*t again.” Just depends on what’s dragging at their ribs.

╰ Shivering

This isn’t just about cold. A character can shiver in a warm room if they’re scared enough. Maybe their skin prickles before it starts, like tiny goosebumps racing up their arms. Maybe it hits in a full-body tremble, their breath catching like something primal in them just screamed “danger.” Or maybe it’s subtle, like a soft internal quake they’re trying not to show. It’s the kind of movement that betrays the truth they won’t say out loud.

╰ Trembling Hands

Shaking hands are so intimate. They’re not dramatic—they’re revealing. It’s the way their fingers fumble to light a cigarette. The way they have to tuck their hands under their thighs so no one sees. Maybe they keep reaching for the glass but can’t quite get a grip. Or maybe they do grip and the tremor runs through the whole glass like a warning. It’s not about the shake. It’s about the fact they wish they weren’t shaking at all.

╰ Clenching Fists

This one? Its tension incarnate. And it doesn’t always mean someone’s about to punch something. Sometimes they ball their fists just to keep from crying. Or because they’re trying so hard not to say something they’ll regret. Look for the subtleties: white knuckles, nails digging into palms, fists flexing open and closed like they’re trying to wring out emotion. It’s control. Rage. Determination. Or the act of stuffing all that inside a cage of fingers.

╰ Biting Nails

It’s more than “they’re nervous.” It’s compulsion. Habit. A survival tic. They might not even realize they’re doing it—just fingers to mouth, chewing down without looking, like their body’s trying to chew through the waiting. Maybe their nails are ragged. Maybe they flinch when they bite too deep. Maybe it’s the sound, the soft click of teeth and nail in a dead-silent room. It’s vulnerability dressed up as fidgeting.

╰ Tapping Fingers

This is the soundtrack of a restless mind. Is the rhythm sharp? Fast? Jittery? Are they tapping with one finger like a countdown—or all five, like a rainstorm on the table? They might not even notice. But other people do. Someone asks them to stop, and they bristle. Or they stop mid-tap when someone says the wrong thing, and that silence? That silence is loud. Tapping fingers are rarely idle. They’re keeping time with the character’s thoughts.

╰ Pacing

Pacing isn’t just walking back and forth—it’s the body trying to outrun a thought. They stand. They sit. They stand again. They move because stillness feels like being buried alive. Maybe their footsteps are soft, barefoot across carpet. Or hard-soled and echoing through a hallway like a threat. Maybe they walk a perfect loop, over and over. Maybe it’s erratic, jerking toward the door, away, toward again. Their mind is spinning, and their body’s just trying to keep up.

╰ Slumping Shoulders

This isn’t just a posture change—it’s the moment the weight wins. Shoulders that sag say “I lost.” Or “I’m done.” Or “Please don’t ask me to care anymore.” Maybe they slump in a chair and stare at the floor. Maybe they’re standing, but something in them folds anyway. Their spine’s still straight, but their shoulders fall like scaffolding giving way.

╰ Tilting Head

Simple movement—loaded meaning. They tilt their head when someone says something that doesn’t quite click. Or when they’re trying to listen harder, like angling their body will help them hear the truth under the words. Maybe the tilt is sharp and skeptical, like “You sure about that?” Or soft and curious, like “I’m trying to understand.” Or just a little too slow, too drawn out—like a predator sizing up prey. It’s instinctual. And it always means they’re paying attention.

╰ Rubbing Temples

This one screams I’m trying to hold it together. It might be frustration. Migraine. Bone-deep exhaustion. They press fingers to their temples like they’re physically trying to squash the problem before it leaks further into their head. Maybe their fingers circle gently, trying to soothe themselves. Maybe it’s two fingers, firm pressure, eyes closed, jaw clenched. It’s the gesture of someone whose brain won’t shut up—and whose body knows it.

[shouyuus]

─── ハイキュー!! SUNDRESS SEASON

kenma, tsukki, kageyama, hinata; 2,321 words; highly suggestive, fluff, no "y/n", slightly sadistic!tsukki, gamer!kenma, jealous!kageyama, needy!hinata

summary: sundress by a$ap rocky plays loudly in the back

a/n: this wasn't supposed to be horny but then tsukki happened....

─── 研磨 KENMA

he’d never been against the idea of you becoming a streamer, even though some of his friends (kuroo, mostly) had objected with the fact that “you know you’re gonna have to beat off weird dudes on the internet thirsting over your girlfriend, right?” to which kenma’s response had been a nonchalant shrug, followed by a series of expertly aimed button-mashes.

“we’ll get mods for her chat,” he’d said, “it’ll be fine. plus, she’s not doing gaming stuff, she’s just gonna like talk about her day and stuff.”

kuroo’s exasperation was tangible, even though the voice call.

“right, yeah, that’s so much better.”

but now, kenma thinks, kuroo might’ve been onto something.

“yo ken, flash—” someone says. kenma jerks, yanking his eyes away from a small window of your stream, pulled up on one of his dozen or so screens, where you’re currently doing what you’d called a “summer haul” stream, popping in and out of the bathroom in your room, trying on dresses for your subscribers.

“and this one is one of my absolute favs,” you say, doing a twirl in front of your camera. kenma’s mouth goes dry — it’s a sundress, dotted in tiny little daisies, ruched at the waist, the thin straps tied in twin bows on your shoulders, the square neckline underlining the delicate curve of your collarbones.

“ken — the fuck —”

“sorry, one sec —” kenma rips off his headphones and mutes his stream, his video going dark.

a second later, on your stream, the door opens and kenma appears behind you, making you jump slightly as he loops a possessive arm around your middle.

“k-kozume! what’s up?” you blink, letting out a surprised laugh as he leans down to squint at your chat, nose crinkling at some of the comments flying across the screen.

“sorry, i forgot that we made reservations for dinner,” he says into your mic before ending the stream. you make an affronted noise, pouting.

“hey!”

kenma turns, his arm still tucked around your middle, and cocks his head.

“i don’t think you should stream anymore.”

“w-wait, what? kozume, where’s this coming from? you were so supportive of me streaming in the beginning —” you wave at your set up, “you even helped me with the rig.”

kenma frowns, not looking at you, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip as he sighs.

“i know but —” he cuts off, feeling a raw heat crawling up the back of his throat at the image of you on his screen, spinning in that sundress (the one you’re still wearing — god the fabric is so soft beneath his hands). he curls his fingers into the new material of your dress and drops his face into your shoulder.

“sorry, just —” he waves a hand vaguely at the setup, “this dress…” he manages, finally, still not looking up, “i saw you and…” he swallows around the lump in his throat.

you let out a tiny laugh, leaning back, your palms on his chest as you search his face.

“kozume… are you… jealous?”

kenma scowls, “no — i just don’t want my girlfriend prancing in a dress like this in front of a bunch of strangers on the internet.” the words tumble out of him, almost too fast to catch. he sucks in a long breath when he finishes, his eyes widening as he stumbles half a step back.

“a-ah — sorry — i don’t know where that —” he stutters, looking bewildered.

but you grin, looping your arms around his neck to pull him back. you tug him into a long, slow kiss, and you feel him soften against you, his thumbs drawing tiny circles just beneath the last rung of your ribs.

“how’s this — the next time i do a haul stream… you can get a preview of all the outfits and veto the ones you don’t want me wearing on stream.”

kenma crinkles his nose, bites back the urge to tell you that maybe he’ll just veto every single one. but the imploring look in your eyes is too sweet to deny. he sighs, nodding.

“fine,” he takes a step back as you reach for mouse to resume your stream; he pulls you back.

“we’re getting better mods for your chat.”

you laugh, rolling your eyes, “yeah, yeah, whatever you say, ‘zume.”

─── 月島 TSUKKI

“quit squirming.” tsukki swats at your hand as you try to tug at the hem of your dress. you whine, scowling down at him as the pair of you arrive at the top of the escalator and step off with the crowd.

“it feels weird —” you protest, but tsukki only tsks, his glasses flashing in the bright mall-interior lighting as he guides you by the small of your back towards the next store on your list.

“you were the one who wanted to come out shopping,” he says, his voice lilting into a sardonic tease. you sigh, feeling your cheeks prickle with heat as you feel another breeze between your legs.

“i — not like this!” you hiss as the pair of you duck into the clothing store, the bright lights flooding the colorful displays of summer outfits. you resist the urge to tug at the hem of your dress again, regretting every decision in your life that’s brought you to this moment, including the late-night purchase of the a-cursed sundress currently hugging your body.

tsukki wanders towards one of the meticulously set up displays and tugs at a shirt.

“this one’s cute.”

you frown at him. he cocks an eyebrow at you, watching for a solid three seconds before he drops the sleeve to the shirt, shrugging up a single shoulder.

“well, if you don’t like it —”

you hurry to his side, shuffling into one of the tighter aisles.

“it’s not that i don’t like it — i just —” you drop your voice, feeling your whole body burn as you press your legs. “i can’t believe you’re making me walk around without any panties on!”

tsukki’s smirk goes lopsided; his glasses flicker as he gently adjusts them up the bridge of his nose.

“like i said,” he heaves an exaggerated sigh, leaning down to back you up against a wardrobe full of pastel-colored croptops, “if you wanted to go prancing around outside in a dress like this… then i get to keep your panties.”

you chew on your lips, fidgeting with your fingers, heat roiling in your belly as tsukki leans back with what could only be called a sadistic shrug.

“kei,” you whine, but he only roll his eyes, unmoved. you sigh, deciding to change tact.

“what if someone sees?” you counter, to which tsukki only pins you with a deadpanned look.

“then let them see —” he leans down again, a hand coming up to brace against the shelf behind you, pinning you to the clothing rack. you let out a tiny squeak as his nose nearly brushes yours.

when he speaks, his voice is soft, sweet, smug and tantalizingly sadistic —

“then let them see… and they’ll have to live with the fact that they’ll never get to do anything else but a single look… cause this pretty little pussy’s mine, got it?”

─── 飛雄 TOBIO

the picnic had been your idea, so tobio tells himself as he leans patiently by the door with a large basket full of picnic-stuff — everything from chilled rose wine to finger sandwiches to strawberry tarts and just about a million other tiny, delicate, edible items.

“sorry, sorry —” you say, rushing out, putting in a pair of earrings as you stumble into the hallway by the door, “i couldn’t decide what to wear but i remembered that i got this a few months ago when it was still too cold to wear outside —”

tobio looks up, and the rest of your words fade out into a strange, muted silence as his head fills with a white-noise buzzing. he sees your mouth moving, the waterfall of your hair as you flip it over your bare shoulder, but the thing that catches in his chest like a loose thread around a chain-link fence is the dress —

and sweet god, what a dress —

dotted in tiny red strawberries, the hem frilled with a rim of delicate lace, the pleats pooling out from the scrunch around your waist, accentuating the flair of your hips.

he swallows, his mouth suddenly very dry.

“— ready to go?” your voice fades back in as if someone had suddenly turned the volume back on as tobio shakes his head, feeling not unlike a wet dog, ridding his ears of water.

“no.”

you blink, “huh?”

tobio frowns, his eyes flickering back down to your dress, where it lingers on the neckline, the soft, stomach-clenching rise of your chest, the pendant necklace he’d gotten you for your anniversary two years ago sitting pillowed between the dip of your tits.

“not this one,” he says, shaking his head.

you stare up at him, your mouth slightly open.

“not… this one… of what?” you ask, clearly confused.

tobio grabs your hand then, tugging you back down the hallway towards your bedroom.

“t-tobio!” you yelp as he jerks you into the room, pulling open the door to the walk-in closet, “w-what’s going on?”

tobio huffs, whirling around to wave vaguely at you with an exasperated hand.

“you! i — we can’t go out like this!”

your eyebrows shoot up as you look between him and the dress on your body, a dull, pulsing heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“w-wha — i — i thought you’d like this dress — i picked it just for **—”

“i just… don’t want anyone else to see,” he says, his shoulder shrugging up and for a moment, he doesn’t look like an international sports star, for a moment, he looks like the awkward boy who’d stood outside the gym and asked you to be his girlfriend who knows how many years ago.

you let out a breathy laugh, looking down at your dress.

“so… i take it you like the dress?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice.

tobio sighs, closing the space between you as he tugs you to him, his large hands circling your waist as you press your palms to his chest.

“i love it… and i’ll be damned if i let anyone else see you in it but me.”

─── 翔陽 SHOUYOU

you’ve always loved shopping with shouyou, because who could ask for a better hype man? and for his part, he loves shopping with you, because who could ask for a better model?

you’d already been to a good handful of stores, and shouyou’s admittedly muscular forearms are slowly starting to run out of real estate.

“alright — you ready?” you call from behind the changing room doors.

“yep!” shouyou’s voice answers, bright as sunlight.

you giggle, pushing open the door and stepping out in front of him. he’s sitting on a large couch, surrounded by the proof of your very successful shopping trip.

you tug on the hem of your dress, shifting from one leg to the next, feeling a familiar heat creep up your chest as you watch him look you over with molten-honey eyes.

“so… what do you think?”

“whoa…” shouyou gulps as you do a twirl for him, a dull humming settling behind his ears as the lace-hemmed dress flairs up, showing more of smooth, buttermilk thighs. he clears his throat and sits up just a bit straighter, “it’s — really nice — i mean — you look so good,” he says, though he’s not sure if he’s doing a good enough job of impressing upon you just how fantastic you look in the sundress.

you still look doubtful, looking down at the thin material of the dress, the cute little pleats, the tiny tangerine pattern.

“yeah?” you ask, turning towards the full length and looking yourself over, twisting this way and that.

shouyou fights down a groan as you roll up onto your tiptoes and he catches a glimpse of your lacy panties as the edge of the dress kicks up.

“yeah — holy shit —” he swears, clearing his throat, suddenly feeling very, very warm for reasons he doesn’t really want to go into.

“so…” you trail off, turning back towards him, a silent question in your eyes.

shouyou quirks a grin before calling for a shop clerk and handing over one of his cards.

“oh! you didn’t have to —” you cut off as the clerk bows and takes his card to the checkout. shouyou coughs into fist as the clerk returns with the receipt. he signs without so much as glancing at the final number.

“it’s a pretty dress,” he says, even as he gently guides you back into the spacious changing rooms. you squeak as he squeezes in behind you, locking the door with a sharp click.

“sh-shou! what’re you —” you let out a bitten-off moan as he drops to his knees, his eyes blown dark and lightless, his warm, callused hands flipping up the hem of your newly purchased sundress, his touch nothing short of reverent.

“you just look so good,” he says, his voice debauched as he tugs down your panties, “i — c-can’t i just —” he breaks off as your breath hitches, your back hitting the floor-length mirror. you press the back of your hand to your mouth as his fingers inch up the back of your thighs.

“shou — please —”

“mm… you can be quiet for me, right? god, you’re so pretty — just lemme make you feel just as good as you look in this sundress, yeah?”

taglist: @yaoduriaa @ominouslywritinginmyhead @naomihatake @cheesypuffkins87 @crispynutella @unriding @phroggii @fennecnco @inloveinsickness @simpingdailyforthem @jkj33w10 @ryescapades @katiekawls @ally-all-around @arahiraaai -- join the taglist

shouyou truthers: @dearru @neiptune @shoyosh

tobio nation: @mcdonaldsnumberone @lale-txt @hiraethwa @inloveinsickness @hiraethwrote

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

too big

a/n: honestly, bless this man for being such a dick (and having such a dick, holy fuck i’m gonna pass out)

summary: cock throbbing in his grasp, he stared down at your pussy as he swept his intimidating girth against it, “you know, you have been such a fucking tease for way too long… only giving me handjobs or rubbing that little cunt on me, basically taunting me, while the rest of these assholes get to have you, all of you, anyway they want,” he stopped nudging your buzzing pearl and instead dragged through your petals till he found your opening, quivering and dripping as he nuzzled against it, “I’m fucking tired…” he groaned slowly, “…so I’m done waiting… I’ll finally feel this fucking pussy wrapped around me whether you like it or not.” 

warnings: innocent!reader x frat!bucky barnes, stepbro!steve rogers, frat!ari levinson, marc spector, ransom drysdale, curtis everett, lloyd hansen, andy barber, thor odinson, scott lang, miguel o'hara, frank castle, billy russo, smut, dark content, dubcon halfway through, college au, polyamory, kissing, corruption kink, shower sex, bondage, exhibitionism, voyeurism, crying, dacryphilia, dirty talk, size kink, gaping, belly bulge, manhandling, overstimulation, orgasm denial, edging, multiple orgasms, squirting, impact play, pain kink, spit kink, choking, masturbation, oral, fingering, anal, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, bukkake

word count: 6770

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

“Ah, not yet,” your stepbrother groaned over the booming music, that rocked the frat house, as he cut the sip of his beer short, “if you really don’t wanna be here anymore, can’t you just like go up to my room and wait?”

“Seriously?” a long sigh flowed from your lungs, “then I’d rather just walk back to my dorm alone, I don’t even know why you insist on escorting me like I’m a child.” 

“Because you shouldn’t walk alone at night,” Steve shot back as his gaze continued to keep his focus on the party around him, “don’t be a brat, just go wait upstairs.”

“Well, can’t someone else do it then if you’re so busy, your majesty,” your comment earned you a glare. 

“You’re my responsibility,” he stated, the bridge of his nose twitching heatedly as he glowered down at you, “I’m not just gonna dump my problems on my friends for them to deal with.”

“Wow, okay,” you nearly choked on the lump that promptly formed in your throat, “I’m sorry for being such a burden then,” you muttered before spinning around and storming up the stairs. 

The door to Steve’s room slammed shut like a crack of thunder behind your spine. 

Chest still heaving, you stared down at the ground for a long moment before you finally managed to force your feet to move once again and peel you away from the door. You flopped down onto the bed with a heated huff, blinking up at the ceiling before your gaze flickered to the night sky twinkling on the other side of the windows. 

Though as you laid there, your stepbrother's last words nearly swallowing you whole as they played on a loop in your brain like a plague, a different sound suddenly caught your ears and caused your cheeks to instantly heat up with something other than fury. 

Reverberating through the thin wall, shrill moans were tangled with deep ones, some that were familiar, though you didn’t place them till the female whines started screaming out his name. 

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky–,” the cries rang out each time the thud of a headboard thumped against the wall. 

And though you couldn’t make out every word, you still thought that you could hear Bucky’s low timbre crackle in dirty soliloquies, fractured sentences that soon persuaded your hands to subconsciously drift down along your frame.

Though by the time that your fingers had found their way down your pants and stuffed up your hole, rocking them to the same rhythm of the pounding that nearly cracked through the wall, the door to Steve’s room was suddenly ripped open and you tore your hand away from your cunt. 

“I am only gonna say this once, so you better fucking listen up,” he grumbled as he kicked the door shut behind him, “I–… am sorry…” he struggled to huff, “there, you happy now?” 

The lewd noises that echoed through the wall didn’t faze him at all as he apparently was so used to such background noise in the house that he barely registered it at all. 

“So, you don’t think I’m a burden?” you uttered, propping yourself up on your elbows as doubt stiffened your words. 

“…no…” resisting a roll of his eye, he instead faintly shook his head as he began to walk closer, “you’re not a burden… a brat? Yes,” he stated, “but I guess you’re not that bad…” a slight smirk twitched at his lip before he then bent down over you and kissed you. 

Though as it turned out to not just be a swift peck he’d sought after as he layed down at top of you, one of your palms pressed against the centre of his burly chest before you twisted your lips out of the way, “wait, wait,” your head faintly shook as you tried not to succumb to his intoxicating kiss, “no, if we do this, then we’ll both just fall asleep here.” 

“Would that really be so bad?” a soft scoff crackled in his throat. 

“I wanna sleep in my own bed tonight,” you tilted your head as you blinked up at him, your brows gently knitting together at the plea, “I didn’t even wanna come tonight.” 

“Oh, come on,” he leaned back down till his nose ghosted against your own, “I’m too tired to walk across campus right now, and if I’m tired, then I can only imagine how you must feel. Come on, just crash here tonight, do it for me,” he croaked, “and you’ve been so boring all evening, barely had a sip of anything, so at the very least you owe me this.” 

“But–”

“You can pop in some earplugs, then you won’t even know the difference,” his lips began to flutter across your cheekbone till his voice tickled your ear, all the while the party right downstairs still boomed above his manipulative murmurs. 

And though you knew that it wasn’t true, that even if you could somehow block out the noise, you still couldn’t stop the base from rocking the entire house and make you dizzy as you laid in your stepbrother’s bed. So, as fear arose inside of you at the thought of telling him no, you instead heard yourself timidly whispering, “…alright…”

You’d managed to slip out of Steve’s bed without waking him up before you then sneaked down the long hallway to borrow the upstairs shower. 

Though once the water was drizzling down upon you, in the relaxing steam that floated around your form, your thoughts couldn’t help but drift back to the night before, though not of the manner that your stepbrother had put you to sleep, but instead to the sinful sounds of his best friend that you’d overheard. 

Swiftly, the pads of your fingers began to draw needy circles over your clit to try and dull the scandalously intruding thoughts, though even when you detached the showerhead to spray the gush of water directly against your pussy, a dire problem continued to stand in your way, like you were peeping over the edge of a cliff, too petrified to jump by yourself. 

However, as time began to slip away from you, the door suddenly barged open.  

Your stifled whimpers promptly ceased echoing in the shower as your eyes snapped to the figure now standing in the doorway. 

“B-Bucky!” you dropped the showerhead in your humiliated scramble to twist your nude frame out of his sight. Picking it up as it began to spray up into your face, you swiftly spun around and splayed your hands across your frame in a feeble attempt at covering yourself up.   

“You do know that this door locks, right?” he chuckled as he gently pushed the door closed behind him, the one that you had apparently still been half-asleep when you forgot to bolt, “that’s twice now,” he pointed out with a grin as his stare pierced through the fogged up glass, deja vu smacking you in the face as well, as he reminded you of the incident that had happened over the summer break, “I think if it ever happens a third, then I should win a prize or something.”

“Get out!” you screeched, embarrassment eating you alive. 

“Why? So that you can go back to getting yourself off?” 

“I–,” your head swiftly soared to catch sight of him over your shoulder, “I wasn’t–…” before you squeezed your eyes shut and huffed, “oh my god, I hate you…” 

“I know,” he simply smiled at your groan before he shifted to go grab his toothbrush from the cabinet.

But before he could be on his way and slip back out, your head started spinning as your gaze traced him on the other side of the glass, going about his business as if you weren’t standing stark naked one single meter away from him. 

“W-wait!” you then heard yourself squeak right as his fingers reached for the door handle. Glancing back over his shoulder at you, the words that then slipped out of your lungs were accompanied by a shiver that trickled down your spine, “…could you–…”

Blinking back at you, his eyes faintly squinted as a smirk plagued his lips, “could I what?” 

“Well, I just–,” your breathing was ragged as you averted your gaze, “I’m having a bit of trouble making myself–, uhm…”

“Aw,” his broad shoulders gently shook in a laugh as he then began to mock, “what’s the matter? Can you not make your little pussy cum? Have you still not learned how to do it on your own?” 

“I–, n-no!” you hastily lied, “I’ve totally done it myself, loads of times, what are you talking about?” even though the truth actually was that the sought-after high was still too overwhelming to reach on your own, “I just right now when I tried that it won’t happen… I–… I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” 

“Well, maybe you’re doing it wrong,” he shrugged, “or school’s just got you crazy stressed out or something, so it can’t snap into place.”

“Yeah?” a small drop of assurance settled within your belly, “…so would you maybe–, I mean, I know that you’ve done it for me before, but still, could you maybe help me out a tiny bit?” 

A big huff flowed from his lungs as Bucky then pretended that your request was something he wished to be no part of, “alright,” he teasingly grumbled, “I guess I could lend you a hand, but just saying, it’ll cost you.” 

“Cost me?” 

“Yeah,” he tried to keep a straight face, “I don’t give out favours free of charge.” 

“Fine,” a short giggle bubbled out of you as you assumed his dramatic terms were but a joke, “I promise I’ll be your getaway driver on your next diamond heist or whatever.”  

His tongue briefly flickered out to wet his lips before he simply chuckled condescendingly in return, “you’re cute,” before he then began to strip out of his sleepwear. 

Though you probably shouldn’t have been surprised, in your mind, you had merely pictured that he would stay on the other glass a moment longer to give you the guidance that you needed, only explaining what you should do and nothing more before he then left you to carry it out on your own. 

“What are you doing?” your eyes instinctively grew wide as his clothing hit the tile floor. 

“Sweetheart,” his head swiftly cocked, “you literally just begged all pathetically for my help,” he pushed his underwear down, revealing his beast of a cock, already half-hard and heavy, resting like a freaking baseball bat against the top of his thigh, “so that’s what I’m doing,” he brashly stated before he then joined you in the shower. 

Grabbing your face with both of his hands, he then held you in a kiss until the tension in your body gradually began to fade away. When you started to suck in deep breaths through your nose, truly landing in the devilish deal you’d just agreed to, one of his fiendishly, inked hands then began to wander. Skimming down over your wet skin, his palm first caught your tits, briefly giving one of your nipples a teasing tug, before his touch strayed down to knead your ass and draw you that much closer to his frame. 

With the showerhead still clutched in your hands, hugged closely to your body, and gushing onto the both of you, the drawn-out kiss then broke when Bucky’s hand snuck down between your legs. Swiftly, he sought out your clit, already puffy and throbbing from the way you had bullied it mere moments earlier. 

However, then, as you blinked up at him, mouth falling open in a gasp, he suddenly spun you around for your spine to be pressed up against his brawny chest, before stealing the showerhead from your grasp. 

Extending his thumb, he dexterously switched the settings and changed the flow of water from several small and gentle streams to one thicker, and much stronger, jet. 

A whimper rolled off your tongue as he then held the gush down to spray its firm pressure directly against your little pearl, and as you had already been so worked up when he found you, it didn’t take very long at all before you finally tasted that sweet high that you still weren’t yet brave enough to catch on your own, his expert touch instead guiding you there. Your eyes squeezed shut as, not only your head fell back against his broad shoulder, but your knees also threatened to give out, lending him to snake a swift arm around your waist to keep you from collapsing entirely. 

“Oh my god,” you panted, completely melted back against his bulky physique, “how did you do that so fast?”

And as the muffled grunt, that had vibrated in his chest at your unravelling, morphed into a cocky chuckle that tickled your ear, he simply murmured, “you’re welcome,” before he then pressed a peck to the top of your head and began to tilt your body back away from his. 

But at the loss of contact, one of your hands suddenly shot out in desperation before he could disappear completely, “wait, please I–,” you gasped foggily, “more–, I want more–, please don’t stop–”

And as you peeked over your shoulder to meet his eye, a glimmer flickered in his blue ones, “oh, looks like someone’s getting greedy,” he smirked, “you finally developing a taste for all of this? Becoming the little slut we’ve been telling you all along that you actually are?” 

“No, I’m not a–,” you couldn’t even echo the same word out loud, “…Bucky, please? I just–, I can’t do it on my own–, I mean, not like you or any of the others can…”

“Well, you’ve just not had enough practice yet,” his palm swept up to find your jaw as he took a step back in your proximity, “you’ll get there if you just listen to Steve and stick with all of us,” he uttered as he turned your head for his lips to capture your own.

As he kissed you over your shoulder, his now raging hard-on digging into the softness of your bottom, he then blindly slotted the showerhead back into place on the wall, lending the water to drizzle down over the both of you as he swept his tongue ravenously against your own. 

His feet then began to shift on the wet floor, and steered your own to move slightly as well, till your tits smooshed up against the cool tile wall of the shower. When his lips then faded and began to migrate down and past your neck, you continued to peek back at him as he then sank down onto his knees behind you. Grabbing your hips, he yanked your butt closer to his head till your back was arched and your arms were folded up against the wall for support. Burying his face in between your thighs, he then spent the next chunk of time eating you out till he once again had you tumbling over the edge.

Though after you’d cum this second time, he feverishly reached up and shut off the water before he plucked up your dazed form and dragged you out of the shower, planting you instead on the counter beside the sink. 

Still all dizzy, you swayed slightly as Bucky then took a few steps away from you, enough to be out of your reach. 

“I wanna see how many of your fingers you can fit inside that pretty little pussy of yours,” he demanded as his stare coasted down to your core, utterly on display as your limp legs hadn’t drifted closed yet. 

“W-what?” you breathed, still too hazy to keep your heavy eyelids from temporarily blinding your vision. 

“You heard what I said,” he briefly let a dollop of spit drop down into his open palm before he then grasped his thick girth and initiated a silky stroke, “show me.”  

Though try as you might, the max you managed to cram inside of your drooling cunt was three of your digits as your stare stayed glued on his fist working over his big cock. 

However as he watched you reach your capacity, he then stepped back up and, with his free hand, joined your own touch between your thighs. At first, as his gaze found your own and held it captive, the tips of his fingers traced your hole, all stretched out by your comparatively thin digits. But then, gradually, he traded your own touch out with his. To begin with, his finger hooked under one of your knuckles to pull one of your fingers out of your pussy, barely waiting any time at all before he then swapped places with it and slid his own digit in beside the two of yours that remained.

The stretch sent a shiver trickling down your spine and you swiftly tilted closer to crash your lips messily against his own. 

And soon, none of your own fingers remained as he instead stuffed you full. Though you thought that two of his thick digits were a struggle, he somehow managed to work himself up and double it to four after he had coaxed your own touch away, his thumb being the only one he couldn’t cram inside, instead stretching it up to sweep against your swollen clit and roll it under the broad pad. His other hand stayed on his dick as your pussy began to stain his fingers with your cream, leaking needily into his palm. 

Though just before you could cum once more, his zealous touch suddenly disappeared, denying you of the luxurious sensation once again. As you desperately reached down to take care of it yourself, he swiftly swatted your hand out of the way. 

Both of his palms, still sticky from your essence as well as his own spit, then floated up to grasp the sides of your face before he then uttered, “grab my cock,” and frantically, you fulfilled his command as you shared his hot breath, “both hands, that’s it, good girl,” a gravelly groan rumbled in his throat as you wrapped your fingers around his fat girth and attempted a gentle stroke, “rub it against you,” he murmured as the tip of him was already mere inches away from your throbbing clit, “rub that big cock against your pussy, go on.”

And as you then tilted your hips and began to drag his hardness through your folds, parting your petals for his girth, a pout found your lips as you peeked down at his size as your juices soaked him, “why do you have to be so fucking big…” you heard yourself whine, “it’s not fair…” 

“Aw, what’s wrong, huh?” he huffed out a cocky grin as he promptly leaned in a bit closer, “are you tired of not being able to take me? I thought you liked all the fun ways we make it work since you won’t let me even try to stick it in, how scaredlittle you think I’m too huge for it to ever work.” 

“You are, that hasn’t changed, I’ve accepted that,” you puffed as you continued to tickle the bulbous tip of him against your core and drive yourself closer to the edge once again, “but I can just still, simultaneously, be a little sad about how I can’t do that with you, even with how crazy you make me, which is a mystery in itself, I don’t get it, frankly I think you’re a complete and utter asshole, but–, fuck… it’s like I lose my mind when I’m around you… all of you… I can’t even enter this house without forgetting my own name…” 

But then, just before you could catch another orgasm, a low growl crackled in Bucky’s throat as your words caused him to finally snap, grasping your frame and tossing you over his shoulder before he nearly ripped the door off its hinges from how feverishly he yanked it open.

Stalking down the long hallways that slithered throughout the upper floor of the fraternity, fear arose in you at the thought that someone might spot you, though as you squeaked about it through your billowing laughter, Bucky only smacked your ass in return, lending you not to notice the handful of doors that clicked open behind you. 

As you reached his room, your giggle still remained as he dropped you down upon his bed. You were too focused on him as he sank down over you to notice how he hadn’t bothered to shut the door. 

Messily making out, his fingertips tickled your sides as he wrestled you lightly, grasping both of your wrists and pinning them above your head before his hips then grinded down against your own. Though your legs didn’t manage to tangle around him before he then flipped you around to lay on your stomach beneath him. 

It continued to be all fun and game as he twisted your squirming hands down to the small of your back, even as he reached for a pair of handcuffs that rested on his nightstand before swiftly clicking them around your wrists, as you merely thought that it was something new and exciting, not him on the verge of crossing a line.

Though as he then yanked your hips up off of the mattress, your knees curling beneath you as your face and shoulder smooshed further into the bed, you playfully wiggled your ass back at him as you fully expected to feel the touch of his fingers or his tongue once again. But to your surprise, when you did feel something brush against your weepy cunt, your giggle finally ceased, gradually fizzling out as you realised what exactly it was that you were feeling caress against you. 

“Wait, what are you–,” your neck twisted further as you tried to catch a glimpse of what he was doing, though only managed to spot his silhouette looming behind you. 

Cock throbbing in his grasp, he stared down at your pussy as he swept his intimidating girth against it, “you know, you have been such a fucking tease for way too long… only giving me handjobs or rubbing that little cunt on me, basically taunting me, while the rest of these assholes get to have you, all of you, anyway they want,” he stopped nudging your buzzing pearl and instead dragged through your petals till he found your opening, quivering and dripping as he nuzzled against it, “I’m fucking tired…” he groaned slowly, “…so I’m done waiting… I’ll finally feel this fucking pussy wrapped around me whether you like it or not.” 

“But I’m not ready–, Bucky, wait!” you tried to wiggle away from him, but he only grasped your ass and brought you back flush against him, “let’s just talk about this for a second–”

“What’s there to talk about, huh?”

“It won’t fit!” you yelped into the sheets.

���Yeah, probably not,” he smirked from behind you, “but I don’t care… I’ll just make it fit,” he uttered before then attempting to sink it in, though without success, his massive cock instead slipped through your slick folds and dragged roughly across your clit. 

“Bucky, please! I’m scared!” you whimpered as his fat tip continued to nudge at your hole, smearing the mess leaking out of you further against your core, “you’re gonna break me in half!” 

“I know, fuck, I know,” he chuckled darkly as he kept up his efforts, “your little pussy is just too goddamn tiny for this,” he pointed out before continuing anyway and trying once again to bury himself in your warmth, though this time failing as well, “fucking shit!” he exclaimed as rage began to bubble within him, making him huff like a bull behind you. 

With a smack against your propped-up ass, he then took a step back before making his way around the bed to the nightstand. Once he’d grabbed a bottle of lube, he briefly dipped down to smother your frown with a peck. 

“Please, Bucky,” you tried to plea once again, “you can stop now. You tried and it didn’t work, so just–, we can do something else, whatever you want, just please don’t try again.”

“But this is the only thing I want,” he murmured before kissing your nose and disappearing back behind you once more.

As he settled back into the same position as before, he liberally glazed his cock with some of the lube, as well as smearing some on your already slick pussy too, even pushing some inside of you with one of his long fingers. 

And as he then attempted a third time, snapping his hips with all of his might, the very tip of him finally popped inside and an actual scream erupted from your lungs, partly from the severe stretch as he split you open with his monstrous girth, but also just from the pure shock of it miraculously working. 

“Ah!” your vision blurred up with tears and you could barely breathe as your poor pussy ached around his obscene size he tried to wreck you with, “Buck! It’s too big! It’s too big!” your mind began to grow fuzzy as you’d never experienced such an intense sensation before, “o-oh, fuck, please take it out, it hurts!” 

“Oh yeah, does it?” his palm swept up the goosebump-ridden skin on your back before he caught the cuffs that linked your wrists together, crudely tugging on them to drag you further down onto his cock, cramming even more of him inside of you, “it sure fucking looks like it, goddamn… I should take a picture of this shit, you’re so fucking stretched out right now, it looks like you might actually break on me,” his other hand drifted to your core to trace the way you struggled to take him. 

“Oh fuck, too much–, too much!” you began to sob as he began to buck his hips and bury himself further inside of you, “t-that’s too deep, Bucky!” 

“No, it’s not,” he chuckled breathlessly through a groan as he continued to stretch you to fit him, “I’m barely halfway.”

“Half–,” you gasped as it already felt as if he was so deep that you could feel him everywhere. From your toes that curled to all the way up in your fucking throat, there wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t flicker and spark for him like a bomb about to go off. 

And as he huffed behind you with every laboured thrust, his hips snapping to crave his way deeper into your sweetness, his hands on you got rougher as they began to come down upon the curve of your bottom, smacking it and making you clench achingly around him at each blow. 

The sniffles that filtered through your strangled moans then found Bucky’s ears, and he briefly tore his stare away from where he split you apart, to glance to your face and spot the tears that rolled down your cheeks. 

“Are you fucking crying right now?” he couldn’t help but huff out a faint and amazed laugh, “aw, that’s okay, baby,” your mouth then fell open as one of his thumbs moved to plug up your tiny asshole, “you can cry if you need to…”

But through the piercing stretch that terrorised your soul, like shocks of electricity flicking through your nerves, you began to notice the euphoria slowly overpowering the pain, confusing you from how the two mixed and mingled. And then suddenly, Bucky’s greedy thrusts started to sound wetter and wetter with each sloppy slam into your soaked pussy, soon coming to a crescendo when your walls promptly squeezed down around him so tight that it forced his huge cock back out as your cunt achingly gushed around nothing and your wobbly knees collapsed beneath you.

Though as you came crashing down upon the bed, he wasted no time at all sinking down with you, “fuck… you’re doing so good for me, you know that?” your eyes rolled as he hummed directly in your ear, “just a little bit more, okay? Just relax around me, let me in,” he groaned as he struggled a moment to stuff himself back inside, pushing past your trembling sensitivity to make room for his length once again.

Though when he sank in, a low and blissful groan rumbling in his chest, it vibrated against your spine as he nearly crushed you as his hips began to roll and rut down into you, burying himself even deeper than before. 

“Be a good girl, just lay right there and take it while I finally get to use this tiny little hole of yours,” he grunted as his efforts overstimulated you so fiercely that your legs trembled violently beneath him and drool began to trickle out of the corner of your mouth, soaking the sheets below, “mould you so good around me, make you take me, fit me perfectly, just the way you should, make you a pretty little fuckdoll for me…”

Though your face was twisted to face the door, it was a struggle to keep your eyes open, lending you only to notice the figures that filled up the exit when one of them took a step to the side and spoke up as he knocked on the neighbouring door. 

“Yo, Steve!” Thor slammed his fist against the door till it creaked open, “bro, come out here.” 

“Yeah, you gotta see this, man,” Ransom called out as well, his feet remaining in the threshold so his stare could stay glued on your cockdrunk visage. 

And when your stepbrother stepped out to spot what was happening just in the next room, he swiftly leaned his form against the doorframe as a wide grin bloomed on his features. 

“Holy shit,” Steve chuckled breathlessly as he stared at the pair of you in amazement, “well fucking done, Buck!” 

“Thank you,” the man that squished you further into the mattress chuckled smugly as he tangled a burly arm under your chin and let his inked bicep flex against your pulse and choke you lightly, “thank you very much.” 

“I mean, I for sure thought you’d have to hold out even longer,” Steve tilted his head slightly to catch a glimpse of how your cream stained Bucky’s cock as it helplessly leaked out of you, forming a messy ring around his fat girth. 

“Well, sometimes patience doesn’t get you what you want. Sometimes you just gotta stop playing by the rules and make life your bitch,” Bucky grunted before his lips began to nibble at your ear, “right, Y/n?” 

Scarcely registering their sinful words through your fucked out fog, all you could reply with was a slurred, “mmngmphh…” your mumbled moan only triggering Bucky to grow even more cocky than before. 

“That’s right, baby, I knew you could fucking take it. You didn’t, but I sure did,” he panted against your neck, “see, if you weren’t such a little prude, then you would have gotten this big dick so much earlier, wouldn’t you have liked that? Instead of being such a brat and making me wait till everyone else had gotten to use you as their own personal little fucktoy to get off with.”

And though you tried to answer, you instead heard your stepbrother chuckle over your pathetic moans, “fucking hell, look at how wrecked she is. Buddy, I think you might have actually broken her,” before he glanced over his shoulder at Thor, “hey, go get the other. Wake them up if you have to, they shouldn’t miss another second of this shit.” 

You barely noticed as the rest of the fraternity slowly filtered into the room as your eyes soon fluttered shut and yet another orgasm rocked your sense, your cunt creaming all over Bucky’s excruciatingly thick cock. When he then suddenly flipped you around onto your back, you dizzily discovered the audience that had formed as you hazily blinked around the crowd. Some were lined up behind Bucky, others off to the side of where you laid melted against the sheets, and a few remained staring in the doorway, though over half of them had already freed their own dicks, while the remaining few that hadn’t yet still only palmed their palpable tents as they watched intently.

A shrill yelp bubbled up your lungs as Bucky then tapped the hefty weight of his length against your overly sensitive pussy. Your legs were folded and crumbled on either side of your frame as he sloppily rubbed himself against your mess, letting the rest see just how much he had ruined you.

“You guys wanna see how pretty I can make her gape for me?” Bucky asked the others as his gaze stayed glued to your little hole, nuzzling against it as it looked as if it had snapped back into place, almost like he’d never been in there at all. 

And with the cheers that promptly rumbled behind him, he then repeatedly rammed his cock inside your cunt before retreating completely with the lewd pop of your poor pussy letting go of his monstrous girth. Each time he slid inside, he gradually ventured further, burying himself deeper before pulling back out and watching as your hole steadily relaxed for him, moulding to his size. At first, your leaky entrance only winked back at them all a brief moment before snapping back into place, till you eventually gaped properly enough for them all to applaud in awe as Bucky paused a moment to grasp you with both of his broad palms and spread you wide, holding you open for everyone a moment longer before your hole quivered back into place. 

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you then forced them to blink as you felt Frank momentarily step up beside you and swiftly free your hands from the cuffs that still kept them bound behind your back, seeing as you couldn’t possibly escape now that you were so cockdrunk you could barely stay awake. 

All of their deep voices and lewd comments washed over you like a stormy sea, crashing into you and making you even more lightheaded than before. 

Ari then shifted to kneel down next to you and scoop his palm under your head, tilting it up for your hazy vision to flicker down to the unobscured crude view of how your pretty pussy got impaled by Bucky’s obscene size, stretching you apart way beyond your limits. 

And as he mercilessly drove his cock into you, his balls managed to smack against your slick skin as he finally buried himself completely inside of your warmth, the tip of him not only diving deep enough to kiss your cervix, but to bump and bully against it with such force that it caused you to repeatedly lose your breath. 

You had never felt so full before in your life, surely too full, as even though you were blinking down at the hard evidence before you, you still didn’t fully believe that you were capable of such feats, of taking him the way that he made you. 

“O-oh, fuck…” you shakily whimpered when you caught sight of the way his monstrous size bulged through your belly, making it seem as though he was fucking straight through your pussy and into your guts.

Your teary eyes then flickered to find Steve in the crowd before one of your hands weakly grabbed for him. Seeing as it was the very least he could do, he granted you the comfort and closed the short distance, trading places with the frat’s president, before he grasped your trembling palm in his own. 

“Damn,” you faintly heard Curtis mutter as he stared, his girth ever throbbing in his fist, mirroring the rest of them, “maybe you should just make her cockwarm you for the rest of the day, just as a precaution to make it easier for you next time.”

“Oh, you’re right, she might need that princess treatment,” Steve murmured as he raised the back of your palm up to his lips for a brief peck, “you’d let him do that, wouldn’t you, sis? For me? Be good for my best friend?”

“Uh-huh,” you found yourself panting as their words flew straight over your dazed head as it jostled on the mattress each time Bucky’s hips snapped against your ass, your zealous slickness being so messy at this point that it clung to his skin as well and kept you both connected in glossy strings, like spiderwebs, each time his efforts retreated. 

“Shit,” Marc groaned as his fingers, tightly wrapped around his own dick, began to speed up, “this is so hot… I think I might blow my load.” 

“Me too, fuck,” Scott harmonized. 

“Cum in her mouth,” Bucky uttered, “go on, be a good girl, open up for them,” before you then felt your stepbrother beside you pry your lips apart mid-moan. 

And as the pair stepped up and, one by one, painted your breathless tongue with their essence, you heard Lloyd rumble firmly, “you better swallow every single drop they give you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, doesn’t it taste good what you do to them, to all of us?” Billy purred before he let a dollop of spit drop from his lips into his palm as he paused momentarily before silkily stroking his length one more to you. 

“Maybe if you beg real pretty, it could become your dessert after every one of your meals,” Miguel suggested with a smirk, “but only if you’re good, then maybe you can have the privilege of being our little cumdump.” 

“Is that what you want?” Andy uttered huskily, his fevered efforts stealing some of his breath, “you wanna be Kappa Alpha Nu’s official little toy? Just be all fucking adorable and help us get off?”

But then Bucky let out a low chuckle as he shifted your feet to rest up upon his broad shoulders, “you’re saying that like she isn’t already…” he grinned proudly before sinking down closer and folding your body in half.

Your free hand clawed at his bicep as both of them flexed to keep him from crushing you as he tilted down to kiss you ravenously. His rhythm picked up till it reached a desperate pace, pumping his fat cock into you as he groaned against your lips. Though even after you felt his big dick twitch inside of you and pump your pussy full of his cum, his efforts didn’t cease, only degraded slightly as he shivered above you, stubbornly fucking you till you unravelled as well. 

With a ragged moan, he finally withdrew from your haven and reached down to messily rub his touch against your poor pussy, all swollen and puffy as it squirted once again for him, your juices weakly gushing all over the bed as his load too trickled out.

It was all a blur after that. 

At first, as you still laid there, panting and twitching at Bucky’s overstimulating touch that he hadn’t yet freed you from, the three frat guys who were looming right beside you, Thor, Curtis and Andy, decorated your heaving tits and stomach with their hot cum. 

After that, one by one, Miguel, Billy, Frank, Ransom, Lloyd and Ari stepped up and came wherever their heart desired. Some chose your exhausted face, all cute and breathless, blinking up at them, while others elected to finish on the soft peaks of your boobs, making you flash them your soft tongue, or even just paint your puffy pussy white and add to the mess already sticky and sore between your limp thighs. 

And lastly, having clearly edged in order to grant himself the honour, your stepbrother let go of your shaky hand and slotted himself in between your legs. Wasting no time teasing you, he plugged the very tip of him into your wrecked hole, making your whole frame briefly jump and quiver on the mattress before your soreness clenched around him and milked him dry as he swiftly emptied his balls inside of you. 

“Well, I think it’s official,” Steve exhaled when he finally pulled his dick back out to admire his cum slowly leaking out of you, “she is finally ready and broken in enough for us to start having some real fun…” his eyes then briefly flickered around to his friends beside him as he uttered, “gentlemen?” before his gaze once again returned to you, “let’s begin.”

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[luvyeni]

ONE MORE BEFORE YOU GO ♱. ── ( 엔하이픈 )

trying to get them to stay and go another round …

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 엔하이픈 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. allusions to sex , cursing word count. 0.8k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ i was so confused on how to write this , idky

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 정원 : jungwon﹚ .ᐟ

“that pouty face isn’t gonna work this time.” he said looking down at your pouty face , you were wrapped up in nothing but a sheet. “it worked last time.” you purred , purposely letting the blanket fall. “fuck , you’re really pushing your luck.” he looked at the time — he was gonna be only 5 minutes late if he left right now. “why worry about the time when you can just stay here.” he chuckled. “stay here , and what fuck you all day?” you shrug, you perfect mounds on display. “doesn’t seem like a bad idea to me.”

“you’re insatiable.” he said ; the entire time he’s slowly losing jus mind. “you know you want to.” you said , he checked the time once more — he’ll be 10 minutes late if he leaves now… but he won’t be late at all if he just doesn’t go , plus he’ll be able to feel you all over again. “i promise this is the last time this will ever happen.” he said kissing your lips. “let’s see how wet you are for me.”

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 희승 : heeseung ﹚ .ᐟ

hearing you whine for the 10th time as he put his clothes on makes him laugh. “glad to know my suffering brings you happiness and entertainment.” you roll around in the bed , barely clothed , normal that would be enough for heeseung; but he was already 30 minutes late to practice. “im laughing because you’re just too cute baby , whine and throwing a tantrum because i wont fuck you again , even though i just made you cum three times.”

“but im still horny.” you said sitting up on your knees. “please , just once more.” you pouted. “and then you’re free to go.” you said , pulling at his belt loop. “you’re crazy.” he said , his lips barely brushing against yours. “for you yes.” he giggled , time long forgotten. “you what baby fuck it , lay back.” he said , hovering above you. “i can’t leave my girl all needy and this wet for me can i , what kinda boyfriend would i be?”

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 제이 : jay ﹚ .ᐟ

sighing as you rub his shoulders; he knows what you’re trying to do. “what if you’re just 20 minutes late?” you purr into his ear. “what can it hurt?” you kissed behind his ear — you were gonna kill him in the best possible way. “because 20 minutes will turn into a hour messing around with you princess , the boys are already blowing my phone like crazy and — fuck.” he threw his head back as you kissed his neck some more. “please.” your hands working on his chest. “you know you want to.”

he couldn’t hold back anymore; turning around , hovering above you. “you’re so spoiled baby.” he said , wrapping your legs around his waist. “it’s all your fault.” you bit back playfully. “yeah?” he smirked , bring his thumb to your bottom lip. “let me take full responsibility then , fuck you the way you should be.”

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 제이크 : jake﹚ .ᐟ

he literally has to fight himself internally to get out of the bed and leave you every morning even when you don’t have mind blowing morning sex , but it’s 100x times harder leaving out the door when you’re still begging for another round. “baby.” he whined. “i can’t i'm already late.” keep in mind he’s still hard himself and your begging isn’t doing him any good. “please jake , i need you so much.” he really needs to leave , his phone has already been blowing up.

he falls for it everytime ; the ole ‘just a kiss before you go.’ bending down to kiss you ; only for him to deepen the kiss , he can’t help it , he just loves kissing you ; it gets him all worked up. “fuck you do this all the time.” he moaned against your neck. “jake please fuck me.” you moaned… safe to say jake showed up to practice an hour late that day.

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 성훈 : sunghoon ﹚ .ᐟ

his shirt isn’t even buttoned up; as he rushes to put his pants and shoes on. “shit im so fucking late right now.” you on the other hand; you’re up and on one already. “see so it doesn’t matter; you’re already late.” you said , he stared at you , you were the reason he was late now , you looked so good in the morning he couldn’t help himself. “we’ve been at it since early this morning , im not sure how im gonna stay awake during practice.” he said. “how are you still so fucking needy.”

“because you look good.” you smiled with a look anything but innocent. “how about you stay home then?” he scoffed. “of course you’d say that.” he said , yet he’s the one kicking his shoes off , crawling back in bed. “are you gonna call the guys and tell them you were being such a needy slut for me today that’s why i didn’t show up?” you nodded. “if you stay in this bed and fuck me all day then i’ll tell them anything.” knowing sunghoon he’s gonna definitely hold you to it.

﹙ 𝐢𝐯. 선우 : sunoo ﹚ .ᐟ

“sorry my love.” he said quickly trying to get ready while you persuade him to stay behind. “but i can’t stay any longer.” you looked so good laying in bed , but sunoo was already so late. “why.” you pouted. “i miss you already.” you said. “what about one more round , then i guess you can go and leave me here to die.” he shook his head at how dramatic you were being , but alas he couldn’t tell you no , even if jungwon was currently blowing his phone up.

“just one more okay.” he crawled back into bed with you. “then i really have to go my love.” he kissed both sides of your cheeks. “so pretty.” he whispered , grinding his lower region against yours. “how can i ever say no to you.”

©️LUVYENI

[wolvietxt]

𝓓ISTANCE.

pairing : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : slightly suggestive, implied age gap, super light barely there angst, implied size diff, fluff, established relationship au, petnames summary : you miss your boyfriend more than anything, even though he’s currently sitting right next to you wc : 1.7k

the apartment felt too big, even with frank sitting just a few feet away. he was at the kitchen table, leaned back in one of the rickety chairs, his broad shoulders and solid frame making the furniture look almost laughably small. he was nursing a beer, gaze trained out the window like there was something out there worth watching.  

but you weren’t looking out the window. you were watching him, the way his forearm flexed when he tipped the bottle to his lips, the way his jaw ticked as he thought about whatever was running through that head of his.  

frank castle, in all his quiet intensity, was here. but for some reason, it felt like he wasn’t, and you hated it more than anything.

“are you all good over there?” you asked, breaking the silence.  

he didn’t turn to look at you, but his lips twitched at the sound of your voice. “yeah, baby, m’fine. just thinkin’.”  

“you’ve been thinking all day,” you mumbled begrudgingly, leaning against the couch and crossing your arms.  

this time, he did glance at you, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “what’s wrong?”  

“nothing.” you bit your lip, shifting under his gaze, feeling the pout start to form on your lips. the truth was, you missed him - his touch, his warmth, the way he always made you feel so safe without even trying. but saying that out loud felt silly, especially when he was right there.  

frank, however, didn’t let much slide. “don’t look like nothin’,” he said, setting the bottle down and leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “you gonna tell me what’s goin’ on?”  

you hesitated, cheeks warming under his scrutiny. “it’s dumb.”  

“you know i don’t care if it’s dumb, sweetheart,” he said, his tone softening. “what‘s the matter?”  

you huffed, feeling a little ridiculous but knowing he wasn’t going to let it go. “i just… really miss you, i guess.”  

frank frowned, confusion flickering across his face. “miss me? i’m right here.”  

“i know,” you said quickly, looking away, feeling small under the weight of his gaze. “it’s stupid, i know. but it’s like… you’re here, but you’re not really here, you know?”  

he didn’t say anything right away, and the silence made you fidget. finally, he let out a quiet chuckle, the sound low and warm. “c’mere.”  

you blinked, looking back at him. “what?”  

“i said, c’mere,” he repeated, sitting back in his chair and holding out a hand. “if you miss me so much, then come over here, baby.”  

you felt your cheeks heat even more, but you didn’t hesitate. pushing yourself off the couch, you crossed the small space between you and slipped into his lap, your arms looping around his neck instinctively.  

frank’s hands settled on your hips, big and warm and steady, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief at the contact.  

“that better?” he asked, his voice teasing but gentle.  

“a little,” you admitted, resting your head against his shoulder.  

his chest rumbled with a quiet laugh, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “needy little thing, aren’t you?”  

“maybe,” you mumbled, nuzzling closer.  

“it’s cute,” he said, his hands moving up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes. “you’re cute.”  

you tilted your head to look up at him, your heart fluttering at the softness in his gaze. “you think so?”  

“yeah,” he murmured, his lips twitching into a small smile. “damn adorable.”  

you felt a little ridiculous, sitting there in his lap, your arms tight around his neck like you couldn’t get close enough. but it didn’t matter. the way frank’s hands were soothing your back, the way he was looking at you, made everything else disappear. you weren’t aware of the world outside the two of you anymore, just the warmth of his chest beneath your cheek and the steady beat of his heart that you could feel through the thin fabric of his shirt.  

"so you really miss me, huh?" frank's voice was low, a bit rougher than usual, but there was no mocking in it. just something soft, something a little unexpected.  

you nodded, unable to say anything else. your fingers idly traced the line of his jaw, the stubble there a little rough against your touch. you could feel your heart race just being this close to him.  

“that’s cute,” frank murmured, his voice a little softer now as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer. "you know you're all i need, right?"  

“yeah, but you’re still so far away sometimes,” you whispered, your lips brushing against his neck as you settled against him more comfortably, your body fitting into his with an ease that surprised you.  

he tensed for a moment, but it wasn’t from discomfort. he just seemed… caught off guard by your neediness, the way it pulled at something inside him. you could feel his breath hitch when you nuzzled closer, the tip of your nose brushing his collarbone.  

“it’s not far away,” he said softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “just been distracted, sweetheart. i’m here now.”  

you melted a little more at his words, your heart swelling. "i know."  

frank leaned down, pressing his lips against your temple in a gentle kiss that made everything inside you feel light and soft. his large hands moved again, this time running up your back before settling at the back of your neck, fingers gently threading through your hair.  

“you get all soft like this, and i can’t resist,” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.  

you laughed, the sound shaky but happy. “i’m not that soft.”  

“yeah, you are,” frank teased, his lips brushing against your jaw now as his fingers lightly massaged your scalp. “so damn cute. don’t know how you do it.”  

“do what?” you asked, your voice a little breathless from the closeness, the heat, the overwhelming affection in the air.  

“make me wanna kiss you all the time,” he said, the words soft but full of meaning. “make me wanna keep you close, make sure no one else gets the chance to take you from me.”  

you bit your lip, your hands sliding up to tug at the collar of his shirt, the movement a little desperate but filled with a need you couldn’t quite hide. “don’t want anyone else. just want you.”  

that made his chest rumble with a soft laugh, but this time, there was something undeniably tender in it. he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he looked at you with that soft intensity you rarely saw.  

“good. ‘cause i’m not lettin’ anyone take you,” he said, his lips curling into a smile.  

you could feel the playful energy crackling between you, even as it was all wrapped in something softer, something more intimate. you weren’t entirely sure how you’d gone from missing him to practically begging for his touch, but it didn’t matter. all that mattered was that he was here, pulling you in even closer, his hands a warm anchor against you.  

“come here,” frank murmured, his lips brushing yours in the faintest of kisses. “let me show you how much i want you too.”  

without waiting for a response, he tilted his head, his mouth capturing yours in a deeper kiss, more forceful than before, but still tender. it felt like an anchor, like a reassurance that this - whatever this was between you - was real.  

you let yourself fall into it, your hands roaming down his chest, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt, your fingers tracing the lines of his body like it was the first time you were allowed to touch him.  

his hands slid down your back, his grip tightening just enough to pull you even closer, his body pressing against yours in a way that had your heart skipping a beat.  

“you sure you’re alright?” frank asked against your lips, his voice heavy with desire but still laced with concern.  

“yeah,” you breathed out, your fingers tugging at the waistband of his pants, the simple touch making him exhale sharply. “i’m more than alright now.”  

he smirked against your mouth, pulling back just slightly to look at you. “thought you were just missin’ me, not all... this,” he teased, his voice low, filled with amusement and affection.  

“missed you,” you confirmed, voice thick with the need you could no longer hide. “missed everything. all of you.”  

there was something about the way he looked at you then, like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment. and you didn’t care how needy you seemed, didn’t care about anything other than him.  

frank brushed a lock of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering along your jaw. “you’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, eyes soft as he looked down at you.  

you smiled, finally feeling the weight of his attention in the most perfect way. “only for you, frank.”  

his lips quirked up in that familiar, barely there smile, his hands pulling you in again. “damn right, sweetheart.”  

and just like that, you were lost in him again, caught up in the softness of his touch, the warmth of his embrace, the undeniable need to be close to each other - always.

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[lolastrniolo]

TAKE IT / M.S.

summary: your boyfriend matt got a little excited while watching a show with you, so you let him have his way with you.

contains: smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, hair pulling, hickeys, stomach bulge, slapping, spitting in mouth, size kink, dom!matt, established relationship, no use of y/n

wc: 1.9k

a/n: english is not my first language

the sound of the television filled the room as you traced slow circles over matts bare skin, your head rested on his chest. his hands played with your soft hair, his fingers massaging your scalp slowly. suddenly, an erotic scene beamed on the screen, in full explicit detail. matt cleared his throat and shifted his position, slightly pulling at his sweats as he did so. your eyes followed his movements, and eventually landed on the growing tent in his pants. he was praying you wouldn’t notice his arousal, but it was pretty hard to miss, to say the least.

“really, matt?” you picked your head up and looked at him with a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “sorry, this is embarrassing, i feel like a teenage boy.” he covered his face with his hands and let out a loud groan. “no, no, it’s fine!” you tried to conceal your amusement, but failed miserably when you let out a loud laugh, quickly slapping your hand over your mouth.

“see, you’re making fun of me!” he laughed with you, now also covering his mouth with his palm, aware of the fact your sister was asleep in the room across the hall. “sorry, it’s kinda cute tho, you getting worked up so fast.” you bit your bottom lip before straddling his lap, your heat hovering right above the bulge in his pants. he sat up and grabbed your hips to reposition you on top of him, his back now pressed against the headboard. he grabbed the remote and shut off the tv without breaking eye contact with you.

“you don’t wanna watch anymore?” you asked, acting oblivious. “nope”, he said, “done watching.” he closed the gap between you two and pressed his lips to yours, his hands immediately snaking around your waist. your lips moved against matts, soft moans and sighs escaping both your lips as you grinded your hips against his. his hands slid their way down to your ass and gripped it, guiding your movements.

he flipped the two of you around in one swift motion, pinning your hands above your head. “what do you want” he whispered, his lips inches away from yours. “you know what i want…” you didn’t wanna give in, avoiding the words he wanted you to say. he stood up from the bed and grabbed you by your legs, pulling you to the edge of the mattress with minimal effort. you loved the way he manhandled you, the way he threw you around. “i don’t know what you want, not if you don’t tell me.”

“matt, please…” you begged, “i need you.”. your hands were propped up behind you to hold you up as matt stood in between your legs. he softly traced your cheek before grabbing your chin and tilting up your head, making you look up at him with a desperate look on your face. “tell me exactly what you need, yeah? and i’ll give it to you.”

“your tongue” you finally confessed, the wetness between your legs growing with the second. “good girl.” matt got on his knees without breaking eye contact. he looped his fingers in your sweats and panties before looking up at you, and as soon as you nodded, he pulled them both down to your ankles before discarding them to the other side of the room.

you propped yourself up on your elbows and watched the way matt trailed kisses along your inner thighs, before sucking harshly on the skin, leaving behind some dark purple marks. “matt, enough teasing.” you groaned, throwing your head back in frustration. he chuckled and shook his head before finally licking a long stripe up your wet slit. a loud moan escaped your lips as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, “ah- f-fuck!”

“you taste so good”, matt mumbled. he grabbed both your legs and let them rest on his shoulders, gripping your thighs as he ate you out. soft moans escaped his lips, you could tell he loved every second of what was happening, he might have been enjoying this even more than you. you furrowed your brows as your eyes shut, the pleasure completely overtaking your body. you tried closing your legs in around his head when he started sucking on your clit, but matt forced them open easily.

suddenly, the sound of a door creaking and footsteps were heard across the hall. you quickly pushed back matts head, “fuck, my sister’s up…” you looked at him wide-eyed. he had an annoyed look on his face, frustrated he had to stop his work. a few minutes later, the sound of her door closing was heard, meaning she was probably back in her room. “you think she’s gone?” matt asked, still on his knees. “i don’t know… probably.” you responded, uncertain. that was all matt needed to hear, “good enough”, he whispered, before grabbing your thighs and pushing himself into your heat again, his tongue working between your folds.

you tried to be as quiet as possible, praying your sister wouldn’t hear the way matt made you feel, but matt wasn’t having it. “why are you holding back?” he questioned, his eyes locked onto yours. “i can’t, matt- my sister will hear.” you respond breathlessly. “i don’t give a fuck, wanna hear those pretty moans of yours.” he says, before back into your soaking pussy.

you didn’t need to be told twice, loud moans falling from your lips, “matt…” you whined, “oh my god”. you sat up and propped your left arm up behind you, your right hand flying to his hair. matt flattened his tongue against your folds, letting you do the work. you grinded your hips into his face, legs shaking around his head, your grip on his hair growing even tighter. he recognized your movements immediately and slid two fingers into your dripping hole, curling them up to get you closer to your climax.

the knot in your stomach got tighter and tighter, before finally snapping. the hand that was previously in matts hair slapped over your mouth as a loud gasp escaped your lips. matt worked you through your orgasm before removing his fingers and getting off his knees, standing in between your legs again. he brought his two fingers to your lips, “open,” he said.

you obeyed without question, opening up your lips and letting him slide his fingers into your mouth. you sucked on them greedily, tasting your own juices on your tongue. matt swore he could’ve came in his pants just from that sight, the desperate look on your face as you sucked your juices off his fingers, looking up at him with furrowed brows. “fuck, you look so good like that”, he rasped, his voice hoarse. he released his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop before running his fingers through your hair, tugging on it a bit to tilt your head back.

he hovered his face right above yours, and you quickly got the hint, opening up your mouth again. he held your jaw as he let a string of saliva drop from his mouth into yours. he smirked as he watched you swallow his spit, “face down, ass up.” he demanded. you did as told, arching your back for him, your pussy on full display.

you looked back over your shoulder, watching matt take off his boxers and sweats, on which had already formed a small wet patch from his pre-cum. you felt the mattress dip as matt situated himself right behind you and gripped your hips. “think you can take a little more, pretty?” he asked. “yes, i can take it, please.” you whined, wiggling with your ass a little to signal what you wanted.

matt chuckled at your greediness and slid his tip through your folds a few times, before lining himself with your entrance and slowly pushing in. moans and groans fell from both your lips as matt filled you up, completely bottoming out. “fuck, you’re so big…” you praised, you knew matt loved hearing it, and you loved saying it. it was the truth, after all. he probably had the biggest dick out of all the guys you had slept with.

matt grabbed a fistfull of your hair, making a makeshift ponytail with his hand as the other gripped your hip. he tugged on your hair harshly and slid his length almost all the way out of your pussy, before slamming back into you at full speed. you let out a loud cry, gripping the sheets underneath you to ground yourself in some way. matt lifted his hand and slammed it back down on your ass, leaving a red hand print. he pounded into you with no mercy, manhandling you as he groaned and moaned.

you had totally forgotten about your sister at this point, loud moans and screams falling from your lips, luckily slightly muffled by the pillow your face was pressed into. “m-matt, oh my god! fuck- d-don’t stop!” you pleaded. “fuck, good girl. take it- fucking take it. look at you, all fucked out.” he rambled, completely lost in essence as he slammed his length in and out of you repeatedly.

in one swift motion, he flipped you over, so you were now in a missionary position. “wanna look at your pretty face while i fuck you” he rasped. his left hand was gripping your thigh, nails digging into your skin. with his free hand, he pushed up your tank top to free your tits. he furrowed his brows and let out a groan as he watched the way your tits bounced as he slammed into you.

his gaze then lowered down to your stomach, seeing it bulge every time he bottomed out. he brought his right hand to your stomach and pressed down, his jaw hanging slack as he felt his cock slam into your walls from the outside. he grabbed your hand and replaced it with his, making you feel just how deep he was. you stared up at him with your mouth agape, “matt, ‘m gonna- gonna cum” you spoke out in between breaths and moans.

he slid his hand in between your legs, rubbing tight circles on your clit with his thumb. “cum again for me, baby.” he groaned. your legs trembled and your toes curled as you finally reached your climax, this one hitting even harder than the previous one. waves of pleasure ripped through your body as you threw your head back. matt finished shortly after, his hips stuttering and his head dropping forward as he coated your walls in his cum before collapsing next to you on the bed.

after a while of heavy breathing, you both finally caught your breath, chuckling from exhaustion. you cuddle up to him and reach over to grab your phone from the nightstand, your eyes immediately widen when your screen lights up, seeing multiple messages from your sister:

‘oh my god, shut the fuck up!!!!’

‘girl i’m trying to sleep please do this at his house.’

‘i’m so done with y’all. i’m smacking you both so hard tomorrow.’

you showed matt the screen, and his jaw dropped. you locked eyes with him before bursting out into laughter. “why did you decide to go live with your sister again?”

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[salemlunaa]

˚∘✵catch yourself before you fall✵˚∘

you guys say you stand firm, but do you really?

For those of you going through tough circumstances, I know how you feel, I know how it gets. And I know you just want everything to happen now. And you’re not going to like this because I know you’ve heard this a gabillion times but: it’s already happened. Stop doing things in order to receive, there’s nothing to receive, your desires are never coming because they are already here. Your dream life isn’t going to come to you, because it is already here. And you must stand firm in that.

And you guys say you do but, do you really? Because I know for a fact that you wouldn’t be struggling if that was true. You “sAtUrAtE yOuR mInD” for 30 minutes and then when something in the 3d gets you down you go against yourself. A routine doesn’t count for shit if as soon as circumstances arise you go back to hating life. And of course you’re allowed to have emotions, after all, this isn’t law of attraction and this certainly isn’t shiftok 💀.

HOWEVER, everytime circumstances get you down you must catch yourself before you fall. catch yourself before you go back into that rabbit hole of self hatred, catch yourself before you plummet into the hell that is your old story.

You can do ANYTHING, seriously, everything, anything, you are SO powerful and you should be SO excited. Excluding intrusive thoughts, everything you speak into existence will happen because you’re a god. simple. All you have to do is stand firm in that belief.

When circumstances hit, close your eyes and tell yourself:

“i’m catching myself before i fall, this isn’t my life anymore”

It can be so hard not to waver, especially when circumstances can be so in your face and apparent. And it can be so comforting to complain about circumstances because many people in this community have had to deal with hard times and misery loves company. But you don’t have to join the club. You don’t have to go back to the old story, save yourself catch yourself and remind yourself of what’s true.

You’ve induced pure consciousness already and have everything you could ever dream of. You’ve already shifted. You’ve already manifested. That’s your reality now, and you must catch yourself the second you feel you’re falling out of that loop. When circumstances hit you, take a deep breath and decide you’re going to save yourself, decide you’re going to catch yourself.

So scroll past that “here’s why you haven’t shifted/ induced pure consciousness already” post because you have. You aren’t a failure anymore, remind yourself of that.

Scroll past that post calling you a loser because you haven’t manifested anything. it doesn’t apply to you anymore. Remind yourself that you get everything you want.

When you feel lonely, remind yourself that you have the friends and family you’ve always desired.

When you feel your negative self image creeping into your mind, remind yourself you have that gorgeous body you want. That pretty face. That fat ass bank account.

When you feel down, remind yourself that you have that life you’ve always wanted, and that it’s not just some distant dream, it’s reality.

When it feels like you just wanna go back to feeling sorry for yourself, catch yourself. Save yourself, you are the ruler of your reality you don’t have to be subjected to that anymore.

That isn’t your life anymore, it’s nothing but an old, dead story, and it has nothing to do with you. Idc how much circumstances try and push you, don’t budge, ever.

You can choose to save yourself, I believe in you and always will.

🔮🌞 choose to save yourself instead of wallowing in self pity