#I don’t want to go there and… live. I wanna cut my arms instead. and my legs. and wrap them in bandages after. and curse myself when I’m…

[lovelivision]

BAD ROMANCE.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gojo satoru/reader

𝐖𝐂: 9.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your love life is in a tragic state, all your dates go poorly and just when you think you found a nice guy you could like, that ends poorly too. good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you !

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, cheating (not done by reader or gojo), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting, praise, p in v sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, big dick!gojo, tease/mean!gojo (he likes embarrassing reader), jealous!gojo, gojo is down BAD, use of pet names, that's all !! (i think :3)

Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.

Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. Hope that your date is going to miraculously show up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.

Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.

You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.

“I’m hurt you know.”

The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.

You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”

He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”

Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”

“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”

Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”

“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.

You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”

“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”

So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.

Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”

“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”

“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.

Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.

Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.

You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.

Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”

Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”

Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”

“…Correct.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.

Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.

His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”

“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.

“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”

Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”

“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”

“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he–”

You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. “Why is this bugging you?”

“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.

Challenging his logic, you ask, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”

He thinks on it for a second, “No.”

Tilting your head at him, “See? That’s what I thought–”

“–But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.

“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.

His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”

You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.

★

After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you decided you would listen to him and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.

However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve actually found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.

It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment, his assumed girlfriend yelling at him, you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.

For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”

You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.

Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”

He sputters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”

Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”

He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”

She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”

Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.

The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and start heading down to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.

He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”

You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”

“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so–”

“–Satoru.”

The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”

You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”

“You okay?” He checks.

You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”

His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”

It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.

You text him the address and then head out the front of the building, waiting for him to get you. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with him, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.

When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.

Turning your head to the side, “What?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.

You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”

He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.

Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.

Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”

Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”

When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”

Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now–”

“–The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.

Humming out a, “Yes and–”

Again, he cuts you off, “–That’s pretty serious…”

I know but­–”

“–Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.

Becoming somewhat annoyed, you push yourself out of the cushions and sit up to face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.

“Yeah, but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different–” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.

“–Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.

He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”

“I don’t think it should, especially since–”

“–If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him­–” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.

“–Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”

“Oh…” He feels bad now.

“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”

Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”

“Stop dating?”

Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”

Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”

He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”

You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other normal person?”

“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he weren’t so straight faced.

Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”

“Says you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”

You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”

His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”

“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.

So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”

His question catches you off guard slightly, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”

He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”

“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”

How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think–”

“–Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”

“We’re friends.”

“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”

The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”

He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”

Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”

“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.

Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.

He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”

You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”

You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.

Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”

“Like what?” He plays dumb.

“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.

“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”

“Satoru,” you warn.

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.

He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”

Humming at you, “Why not?”

“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.

He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”

You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.

One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.

Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.

If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.

It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.

Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”

You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”

When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.

“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Hmm? Okay what?”

Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”

“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.

“Okay,” agreeing easily.

He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”

Again, agreeing, “Okay.”

“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.

“Ok–” frowning at him when you realise, “–Hey.”

“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”

Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.

Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”

“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”

You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”

His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”

Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”

He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.

Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.

“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.

“You need to stop kissing me.”

“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”

His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”

He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Taunting you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.

“Shuddup.”

His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”

He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”

“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”

“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.

“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.

Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”

“What?”

He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”

“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t even planned.”

“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.

Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”

“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.

You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.

He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.

His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.

Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.

Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually – and somewhat purposefully – your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.

You both moan into the kiss and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetheart, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”

Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”

A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.

He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.

“Satoru–” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.

He hisses an apology through his teeth, “Sorry – fuck – sorry, what’s up?”

Deciding to be forward, “Take me to my room?”

Trying to hide the excitement from his face, he checks with you, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.

You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.

When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.

“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.

The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”

You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself, palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.

“Gojo, breathe.”

“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”

Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.

“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.

You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.

“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”

You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.

Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”

The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. Mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.

“Gojo, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.

Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”

He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”

He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”

Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”

You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin pricking at how you can feel his hot breath against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.

“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.

“These are some really cute panties…kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?

Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”

Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”

“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.

He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”

The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you completely. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.

“Hey! those were my good pair!” They were one of the nicer pairs you own.

“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”

God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”

“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”

He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.

Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”

Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”

“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “Wearing a really great expression right now though.”

Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”

He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”

You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.

He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.

Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”

“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.

Head moving to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”

You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.

“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.

Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.

He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, creamy fucking pussy.”

You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.

“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”

You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.

He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.

“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.

He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.

Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.

Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”

You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”

Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”

“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.

“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”

“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.

“…Like it,” you mumble out.

Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”

Repeating, louder, “I like it.”

Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”

“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.

He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.

“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.

You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.

“Gojo! Oh–” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.

Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.

Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo – hah – more, please.”

Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.

A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.

He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.

“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants – ffffuck –” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.

Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.

“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.

A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.

“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”

You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.

It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.

“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.

His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.

“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.

He wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs before standing, tugging off his pants and boxers before crawling up the mattress, leaning over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”

Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”

“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.

His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”

“You sure–”

Cutting him off, “–Yes.���

Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.

Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.

Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”

“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”

Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.

Your head cocks to the side at him, confused by his stare, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”

He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.

You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.

“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.

Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”

“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.

It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.

Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.

You whine at him over it, “Please.”

Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”

Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.

“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”

“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”

You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably – definitely – sound advice.

“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”

Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.

He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.

Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna – hah –”

Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.

“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”

You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.

“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”

“Gojo–” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.

His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “–No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.

“‘Toru, you’re–” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “–so deep.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.

He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.

Without thinking, you admit, “I have – mmph – I’ve liked you mm–multiple times ah– at different points in – hah – our lives.”

His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”

You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.

“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”

“I don’t remember that, too many – hnn – different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.

He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you – mmph – can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our – hah – whole lives.”

His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you – hah – remember the most recent time you liked me?”

He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.

“Not – hah – not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.

“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.

Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started – hah – going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the – hng – year?”

Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”

He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.

“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”

“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.

Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.

Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck–”

Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo–”

“–No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.

Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want–”

You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.

Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.

“Feels– feels good, I–”

“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.

Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.

“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”

Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.

Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.

Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.

Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he lathes over it with his tongue.

He slumps down onto you, his weight too much, your hands push at him, “Too heavy.”

He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.

Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.

“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.

“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”

You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”

“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”

You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.

𝐀/𝐍: this got away from me, like it so often does, it was only meant to be a couple k of only smut but i am not normal so it turned into this! i hope you enjoyed <3 thank you for reading!

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[alwaysmaybank]

not enough, until it was

soft!bf!rafe x reader

warnings: barely proofread, i think thats it!

based on this ask! hope this is what you wanted ml!

im making a rafe cameron taglist because a lot of people seemed to like soft rafe hours. tell me If you want to be added! (thank you SO much for the love on soft rafe hours! it was my first time writing a blurb or whatever you wanna call it so I didn't know whether you would like it or not. thank you!!)

summary: after a jealous argument at a bonfire party, rafe turns to gifts instead of words, hoping to mend what he broke. but you’re not looking for pretty things—you want honesty, vulnerability, and the apology he’s never been taught how to give.

more under the cut!

you and rafe found yourselves at a cozy bonfire party, a gathering he had personally invited you to. the night was vibrant, filled with laughter, the warm glow of the fire casting a soft light on smiling faces. the air was thick with the scent of charred marshmallows and the distant sound of music. at one moment, rafe left to go get drinks, and in the blink of an eye, he spotted you talking with a guy he didn't recognise. whether it was a shared laugh or a fleeting touch that lingered just a moment too long, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease. rafe wasn't typically known for his jealousy, but when it came to you, it felt almost like second nature.

as the night wore on, the atmosphere shifted, filled with the tension of unspoken words and lingering glances. rafe's mind raced with thoughts that turned into sharp comments like "are we really doing this again?", "that didn’t seem like a friend to me," and "are you serious?" you responded to his questions with silence, and he retreated to the couch, leaving a rift that hung in the air.

the next morning, you woke up to find a small, neatly wrapped box resting on your bedside table—a delicate bracelet peeked through the folds of the tissue paper. was this his attempt at an apology? the thought made your chest tighten. with the bracelet in hand, you strode into the living room, where rafe sat, his gaze focused on the news, the familiar look of calm on his face.

"what is this?" you asked, holding the bracelet out towards him.

"a gift," he replied, his voice low and seemingly unbothered, yet the tension was palpable.

"a gift for what?" you pressed, a mix of anticipation and frustration coursing through you.

"because of last night," he mumbled, shifting slightly.

“an apology?” you scoffed, disbelief dripping from your words. “this isn’t good enough.”

for a fleeting moment, he paused, contemplation weighing heavily in his silence. words? he couldn't.

"baby, you know I can't—"

you cut him off, sensing his vulnerability. "you can… and you will," you asserted, your voice unwavering. "no matter how long it takes."

so, you waited. each morning brought a new gift—a pair of glimmering earrings, a stylish dress, or stunning new heels—all beautiful, yet lacking the sincerity you craved. you held your ground, refusing to accept material gestures as substitutes for genuine emotion.

then one morning, the cycle stopped. you stirred from sleep to find rafe beside you, his arms fiercely wrapped around your waist, as if you were the only anchor in a turbulent sea. the intimacy of the moment was tempting—part of you wanted to sink back into the comfort of slumber and let him rest undisturbed. but this wasn’t truly an apology.

with gentle movement, you shifted, waking him up.

“hey, baby,” he murmured, that familiar lopsided smirk surfacing on his lips.

“are you going to apologise now?” you asked, your tone edged with curiosity. what was so difficult about saying the words?

“i already did,” he replied softly.

“the gifts and… this,” you breathed, gesturing to him still holding you close, “aren’t an apology!”

though he kept his arms around you, a frown creased his brow. “i didn’t know how else to show you.”

“then say it! don’t buy anything. don’t wrap it up in a little box and leave it on my pillow, rafe. i don’t want things; i want you. i want to hear you say it out loud.”

he searched your eyes, as if the words lodged in his throat were somehow foreign, a language he had never mastered. rafe had never had to learn the nuances of real apologies—not from his father, and certainly not from anyone else.

“i was…” he began, pausing as if the admission caused him physical pain. “i was scared. scared of losing you, scared of looking foolish, scared of being… replaceable.”

“so, you picked a fight with me instead?” you questioned, frowning.

“yeah,” he admitted, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “because if i say i’m jealous, you’ll think i don’t trust you. if i say i’m scared, you’ll think i’m weak. so i bought gifts, believing that would somehow fix things. i give, hoping it will cover the mess i made.”

you took in his words, feeling a mixture of understanding and sympathy. he was finally here—fully present without the facade of charm or humor.

“rafe cameron,” you said softly, “you’re allowed to be scared. but you don’t get to punish me for it.”

his eyes softened. “i know.”

“then say it.”

he swallowed hard, and after what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to voice it: “i’m sorry. for picking a fight when i should’ve just told you how i felt. for ruining the night. for hurting you.”

you nodded—not out of triumph, but because you recognized the struggle it took for him to get those words out. “thank you.” leaning in, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he exhaled as if he had been holding his breath for days.

“and i’m still keeping the dress,” you added, a teasing tone creeping into your voice.

“that’s fair,” he replied, his arms tightening around you as if to solidify the moment. “it looked even better on you than i imagined.”

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[vxlvted]

Kitchen Comfort

synopsis: chan comes to you, crying, and you help to comfort him.

tags: fluff, angst (?), reverse comfort, no gender is specified for reader

a/n: i’ve had this idea for weeks now and it’s just been a draft sitting in my notes but I finally did it

It all started in the kitchen. You had been standing at the counter, focused on preparing a snack for yourself. You were over at Chan and Innie’s dorm room, the rest of the members were in the living room, playing music and battling in an intense game of Uno.

Suddenly, Chan, who had been quietly watching you from a distance, walked in. Without making a word, He wrapped his arms around your waist and tucked his head into your shoulder.

Chan is normally physically affectionate, it’s a known fact. And It would’ve been normal if it weren’t for the quiet sniff the you heard near your ear. You froze, you hand stopping from where you were cutting your apple and you listened quietly. Maybe you had just misheard, the kitchen wasn’t far from the living room so it was pretty loud.

But it happened again, another quiet sniff into the fabric of your shirt. You dropped the knife and tried to turn around in his grasp but his arms tightened around your waist, silently pleading for you to stay where you were.

You reached down and placed your hand atop his wrist, gently rubbing your thumb against the back of his palm trying to tell him to loosen his grip. It took a few seconds, but he complied, loosening his hold on you and you turn around in his arms.

His face crumbles as a sob escapes him, quiet and strained as if he was trying to hold it in. He leaned into you, burying his face into the space inbetween your neck and shoulder.

Your hands instinctively wrapped around him, your fingers tracing soothing circles onto his back.

Chan’s voice was barely audible when he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

You tilted your head, face softening with confusion. “Why are you sorry?” you whispered, you couldn’t possibly fathom what he needed to be sorry about in this moment.

His voice cracked, “I didn’t mean to cry.” he admitted quietly.

You sighed, wishing he didn’t feel the need to hold it in.

‘You don’t have to apologize for that.’ you thought. But you didn’t say it, instead, you held him tighter making sure he knew his tears weren’t a burden to you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You whispered. Chan shook his head, so you didn’t push.

“Do you wanna go to your room?” He nodded.

You let slowly him pull away, lifting your hands to delicately wipe the tears that stained his cheeks. You took his hand and slowly lead him out to the hallway and towards his room, passing by the door to the living room.

Your presence didn’t go completely unnoticed, Changbin looked up when he saw you to pass and immediately noticed the look on Chan’s face as he pretty much completely avoided looking into the living room. He sent you a worried glance before you nodded at him and he nodded back, turning back to the game to give you some space.

Upstairs, the weight of the moment hit him. He hadn’t realized how much he had been holding it in until he sat on the edge of his bed and felt the force of the trembling in his body. For about half an hour, the tears had repeatedly come and gone until he was left with red puffy eyes and a snot filled nose.

His sniffles eventually slowed and he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand.

“I’ll get you a tissue,” You said softly, standing to walk towards the bathroom.

He didn’t know why, but he felt bad for crying. He hadn’t meant to. Things happened and he was stressed. He hugged you because he wanted to feel you for comfort but he ended up crying. It made him feel guilty.

His thought were cut off when you handed him to tissue. His voice was barely audible when he muttered the words, “Thank you.”

“Do you wanna talk..?” You offered again, you weren’t going to push him, but you hadn’t seen him cry that hard in a very long time.

He wiped his eyes and blew his nose quietly. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse. “I’m okay.” His shoulders shifted instinctively as he rolled them back as if trying to push the weight off them. His back straightening in an attempt to look more composed than he felt.

”You’re not.” You said.

He sighs, “I will be. Just.. needed you.” He whispered as if admitting it took more effort than he was willing to admit.

”Okay..” You mumbled, your voice unsure.

He sighed as he rifled with the crumbled tissue in his hand. He hates feeling like people were pitying him. Deep down, he knows you’re not doing this out of pity, but he can’t help but feel like he’s being a burden.

“I’m not doing any of this out of pity,” You say as if you just read his mind.

“I know.” He whispers but the words feel cold coming out of his mouth as if doesn’t even believe what he’s saying.

Even now, years into your relationship, he still has trouble convincing himself that you really care in moments like this, but you remind him all the time that you’d do anything for him. And that he’s grateful for.

“I just wanna make sure you’re okay.” You say. Chan looks up at you and nods slowly.

You care so much for him, and he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t deserve it.

You wrap an arm around his shoulder and he falls into your touch easily, resting his head against your shoulder. You lean down and press a kiss to his forehead.

“I love you,”

“I love you.” He whispers back. He does. He loves you so much. “Thank you.” He mutters but you furrows your eyebrows and shakes your head.

“Don't need to thank me.”

Taglist:

If you’d like to be put on (or taken off) the taglist, feel free to let me know!

@yaorzu-blog | @pixie-felix | @compersian

dividers from @/saradika-graphics

[utopeian]

a man who yearns

SUMMARY Having his hands on you keeps him present. Little does Bob know, his touch is what keeps you present.

PAIRING bob reynolds x gender neutral!thunderbolt!reader

GENRE vague relationship, but they like each other, fluff, a lot of nonsexual intimacy

WORD COUNT 1k+

WARNINGS not proofread! reader wears heels and makeup, no mention of Y/N

AUTHOR’S NOTE hi, this is my first time writing for bob! so sorry in advance for the inaccuracies.. this was based off a little dream i had, hehe.. hope y'all still like it, though! <3

The minimal chatter and droning of the television that usually echoes throughout the newly renovated living quarters are absent. A rare occasion. The only way one can get to experience this wholly is to sneak out of Valentina’s galas hours earlier than intended; that’s exactly what you and Bob did. Over, and over, and over again. The rest of the team stopped questioning your sudden disappearances after the first few times, eventually understanding that the two of you need a head-start to recover from social settings.

“I don’t understand it. Just don’t interact with anyone when you get tired, easy!”

“Alexei, that is not how it works.”

Although this time, you might’ve had one too many servings of champagne tonight before booking it out of the flashy venue. You wanted to try something out of your comfort zone, slowly but surely. You knew it was a disaster waiting to happen when you asked Yelena in passing if you should let loose, but you still wanted her validation. (Of course, she enabled you; she always thinks you deserve to let loose).

The tipsy haze slowing your movement and speech might not be clear to you, but it is to Bob. Even if he wanted to drink as much as you so you wouldn’t feel all alone, it would’ve evaporated the moment it entered his system, because of the serum and all. Instead, he settled for the next best thing: being your guardian angel for the night. That’s how the two of you end up on the floor, you using one of the sleek couches as a backrest as he sits across from you. He’d follow you anywhere, no matter how questionable. Bob doesn’t mean to cut your tangent off when he blurts out, “Why are we on the floor again?” He tenses immediately when he imagines your reaction to what he just did. He prepares for the worst.

You blink twice, not too bothered that the topic changed, knowing it had to stop at some point. You don’t really remember what you were going on about, anyway. “Oh! My heels are still on. Don’t wanna get up anymore.” The reason doesn’t make sense, but Bob keeps that comment to himself. The last thing he wants is to upset a tipsy you, or you at any moment in time. He instead focuses on the fact that you don’t hate him just because he diverted your attention away from what you were talking about.

You straighten your legs in front of you from their initial folded position, alternating each polished shoe tip to playfully point in Bob’s direction. Despite your follow-up complaint that you want them off, you do nothing. He knows you’re fully capable of doing things on your own when you want to, that’s only one of the many things he loves about you, but he tries to grab every opportunity to show you that he cares. This is no different. He shuffles in his place and takes advantage of your position as you start talking about a movie you rewatched the other day, oblivious to what he’s planning. 

He reaches over to gently grab the back of your shoe and slips it off your foot, shyly glances up to see that you’re still distracted, then takes the other off. Bob has one heel in each hand and hesitates for a second, thinking of where to put them. The poor, patient soul had really tried to listen to you while multitasking, but your words started running into each other. He didn’t catch the title of the film you were talking about (did you even mention it?). Your monologuing continues as he settles to put them about an arm's length away from the two of you, nodding at whatever you were saying, ensuring the pair was still in pristine condition. 

You fold your ankle over the other mindlessly, not noticing all that’s left to cover your feet are your stockings with some runs at the bottom. A corner of the brunet’s lips fondly quirks up at your action. Bob finally exhales through his nose; he’s thankful he can go back to listening to you properly. Well, he never listens to you fully, though, because he gets distracted by how beautiful you look in the dimly lit space with your makeup a little worn in, how the intimate setting fuels the wildfire spreading throughout his chest. Before he can stop himself, Bob inches closer to you, afraid to startle you but desperate to touch you in any form. As long as it’s you, it doesn’t matter how. Having his hands on you keeps him present. Little does he know, his touch is what keeps you present.

Unknowingly, in a way that makes it look like it’s as simple as breathing, he pulls you softly by the ankles to rest your feet on his lap. His hands don’t leave. Instead, they soothingly circle the inner parts of your ankle. Bob sees you practically melt under his touch, dissolving your train of thought to a sigh of relief. It’s enough to get him giddy; making you feel good makes him feel good. Your eyes flutter closed for a good minute before you remember where you are. “If you wanted me to shut up, y’should have just told me.”

His actions halt for a second, before he continues out of fear of getting chastised. “No! Keep telling me about Mr. Darcy and how a man who yearns is a man who earns.” You smile dopily at him and his heart wants to race out of his chest. You gladly continue.

The distant twinkling of the city lights against the abyss of the night, the occasional sirens and the flashing blues and reds, the humming of airplanes passing. The world around you accompanies your aimless conversation, but in this moment, you forget that you are two out of billions of… everything. It doesn’t matter, these details don’t matter. Everything fades away in the background because you have each other. That’s all you need. 

[gf2bellamy]

could you possibly do a spencer reid fic based off of the “I try really hard, actually” scene in juno??

thank you so much, I love your writing 🤍

*heres a link of the clip for some inspiration :)

https://youtu.be/RAN4g5W56Og?si=aHz-ZXggw_HQ2-CH

trying — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: mention of a bar , a/n: hiii !! this is such a cute idea !!! i hope you like this <3

"God, Spencer! You scared me." 

You clutched your chest, feeling your heartbeat race as you turned to find the tall genius standing behind you. His lips twitched into a small smile, eyes crinkling with amusement. 

"Sorry," he said softly. 

Spencer glanced around the file room, his brows knitting together in mild confusion as he took in your unusual hiding spot. You were standing in the corner, half-shielded by a filing cabinet. 

"Garcia’s looking for you," he informed you, tilting his head slightly. "Why are you even in here?" 

You sighed dramatically, leaning back against the desk behind you, wincing as the edge dug into your thighs. 

"Well, I am hiding from Garcia," you admitted, your voice laced with defeat. 

Spencer’s eyebrows lifted, waiting for further explanation. You groaned, throwing your head back. 

"She wants me to go out with her," you grumbled, tapping your fingers against the desk. 

Spencer opened his mouth, presumably to question why that was a bad thing, but before he could speak, you cut him off. 

"To a singles bar," you added. 

His mouth closed again. 

"Oh." 

"Yeah, oh," you muttered, shaking your head as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

You could practically hear Garcia’s voice in your head, rattling off reasons why you needed to ‘get back out there.’

"I don’t want to go," you admitted. "I told her I don’t want to go. But she keeps insisting that I have to—" 

You abruptly clamped your mouth shut, realizing you were about to overshare. Spencer was watching you carefully now, his gaze scanning your face, picking apart every little nuance of your expression like the profiler he was. 

"The point is," you rushed to say, forcing a grin, "I don’t wanna go, so I’m hiding out here until she gives up." 

Spencer was quiet for a moment, considering your words. Then, a small, almost imperceptible smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. 

"Garcia is very persistent," he mused. "She has an impressive track record of convincing people to do things they don’t want to do. You might have to hide in here all night." 

You groaned again, dramatically flopping against the desk behind you. 

"Great. Guess I live here now." 

Spencer chuckled, a warm, soft sound, and for some reason, it made you relax a little. 

"Well," he said after a moment, shifting on his feet, "if you really don’t want to go, you could just… make alternative plans." 

You frowned, lifting your head to look at him properly. 

"Alternative plans?" 

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then cleared his throat. 

"You could…spend the evening with me instead," he offered, a hint of shyness in his voice. "I mean, if you want to avoid the singles bar and Garcia’s persistence, having a pre-existing engagement would be an effective deterrent." 

You stared at him, caught off guard by the suggestion. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea warmed you from the inside out. 

"You’re suggesting we fake a date?" you asked, amused. 

Spencer shifted uncomfortably, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. 

"Not—not a date necessarily," he mumbled. "Just, uh… we can pretend you have plans with me. And then when she leaves, you can… just go home." 

Your smile faltered slightly. 

"I mean… that would probably get her off my back," you admitted, your gaze dropping to the floor as you thought it over. 

And it would.

Because the only reason Penelope was dragging you to a singles bar in the first place was that she knew about your hopeless, lingering crush on Spencer. She wasn’t trying to set you up with someone else because she doubted you and Spencer would make a good couple.

Quite the opposite.

She had spent months watching the two of you dance around each other, never quite crossing that invisible line. She just wanted to help you get over it.

"Okay," you said finally, shrugging your shoulders like it was no big deal. 

Spencer blinked, clearly surprised you had agreed so quickly. He nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

"Okay," he echoed. 

A beat of silence stretched between you. 

You shifted on your feet, trying to ignore the strange, hollow feeling creeping into your chest. 

"So, uh…" You cleared your throat. "What exactly are these fake plans?" 

Spencer hesitated for a moment, like he hadn’t thought that far ahead. Then he pushed up his sleeves, his expression turning thoughtful. 

"Well," he said slowly, "we should probably make it sound convincing. If Garcia asks, I could say we’re going to get dinner?" 

Your stomach did a little flip. Dinner. 

"Right," you said quickly, trying to sound unaffected. "Makes sense. That’s… that’s good." 

"And maybe a movie?" he added. "That would give us a reasonable time frame in case she checks in." 

"Right. Smart," you nodded, avoiding his gaze. 

Another pause. 

Then, before you could stop yourself, you blurted, "Or we could just actually do those things?" 

Spencer’s head snapped up, his lips parting slightly in surprise. 

Your heart pounded as you registered what you had just said. 

"I mean… it sounds fun," you added quickly, suddenly shy under Spencer’s wide-eyed stare. 

He blinked at you, mouth slightly open, like he was still processing your words. 

"I—uh—" He cleared his throat. "You want to go out with me?" His voice was quiet, hesitant, like he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing. 

You bit your lip to keep from chuckling. 

"That’s what I just said," you teased, looking up at him. 

Spencer continued standing there, frozen, his thoughts clearly running a mile a minute. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that he was almost certain you could hear it. The sound filled his ears, muffling everything else. 

"Why?" he asked suddenly. 

You frowned, confused. "Why not?" 

His expression was unreadable, and for the first time, doubt crept into your chest. 

"If you don’t want to—" you started, your voice quieter now, a little unsure. 

"No, no," Spencer interrupted, shaking his head. "That’s not it." 

He inhaled sharply, searching for the right words. "I just—you want to go out with me? On a date? But… why?" 

And that’s when you said it. 

"Because I think I’m in love with you." 

The words were out before you could second-guess them, but the second they were, a weight lifted from your chest. 

Spencer’s lips parted slightly, his entire body going still. 

"You mean… as friends?" he asked after a beat, his voice almost too soft to hear. 

You looked away for a moment before forcing yourself to meet his gaze again. 

"No," you said firmly. "I mean for real." A small smile tugged at your lips, even as your heart raced. 

"Because I think you’re the coolest person I’ve ever met," you admitted, shaking your head in disbelief. "And you don’t even have to try." 

Spencer swallowed, his eyes locked onto yours, something unreadable flickering across his face. 

"I try really hard, actually," he murmured. 

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. 

"Well… you make it look effortless." 

For a moment, neither of you spoke. 

Then, in barely more than a whisper, Spencer said, 

"I'm in love with you too." 

Your breath hitched, your heart stumbling over itself, but then a slow, radiant smile spread across your face. 

"Good," you murmured, eyes never leaving his. "So… you do want to go out now, right?" 

Spencer let out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, like he couldn’t quite believe this was real. 

"Yeah," he said, nodding as a shy smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah, I really do." 

You grinned, warmth blooming in your chest. 

"Okay then," you said, stepping just a little closer. "Guess we’ve got some real plans now." 

Spencer’s gaze flickered to your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again, his smile soft and full of something that made your heart race. 

"Yeah," he whispered. "We do." 

[stillalivebydemand893]

Gamer boy

18+ (repost)

Story:You came in ready to fight about him playing without you — yelling, pouting, full fuzzy-sock fury. He was smug, hot, and totally unbothered… until you sat on his lap and ruined his focus on purpose.

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU PLAYING WITH WITHOUT MEEEE?!”

Your voice cracked through the apartment like a dramatic boss fight intro, echoing off the walls as you stomped into the living room in fuzzy socks and pure betrayal.

Erik didn’t even flinch.

“Jesus. Can’t even die in peace,” he muttered, still glued to the screen. “Yo—pause. Somebody watch my back, Peach is on her demon time again.”

He ripped his headphones off and finally turned to you. Hair a mess. Eyebrows raised. Glasses slightly crooked. Looking 40% annoyed, 60% sinful.

You opened your mouth to yell more but—ugh. The glasses. The jawline. The complete, unbothered Erik-ness of him. You were supposed to be mad, but instead you just stared.

“You’re lucky you look like a hot librarian from a morally gray dating sim,” you mumbled.

“I’m lucky?” he blinked. “You just screamed like I shot your Animal Crossing villagers.”

“You didn’t even tell me you were playing without me!”

He groaned. “Peach, it’s Black Ops. You hate this game. You called it ‘testosterone Minecraft.’”

“And you said you weren’t gonna play till I got back from the mall!”

“I said I wasn’t gonna start the campaign without you,” he corrected like a tired man in court. “This is multiplayer. This is war.”

You stomped dramatically, crossed your arms. “I was gonna make dinner. I was gonna let you have the blue controller. I was gonna play Horizon after. But NO—”

He sighed so hard it sounded like it hurt. “You done monologuing?”

You stuck your tongue out. “I’m going to the kitchen. Don’t touch my save files.”

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he grunted, patting his lap like a throne. “Come sit. You wanna pout, fine. Do it here.”

You hesitated. Blushed. But ultimately plopped into his lap like you weren’t a little devil high off the power trip.

He reached around you for the controller, arms caging you in.

“You start squirming again like last time,” he muttered low against your ear, “and I’m throwing you over this couch and finishing the match later.”

You smirked, wiggled on purpose. “Oh no, I’m just gonna sit here and look cute—”

“Twenty minutes. No brat behavior. No distracting me. No seductive snack offerings. You sit there and be good.”

You turned to look at him, all innocent doe eyes. “Me? Bratty? Never heard of her.”

“Peach,” he warned. “Don’t start.”

“What if I do?” you whispered.

Erik went rigid underneath you. Not from fear. From the sudden awareness of how thin your shorts were.

His jaw ticked. “Peach.”

“Yes?”

“…You’re testing me.”

“I’m helping with your posture.”

“You’re about to help me commit a felony.”

“Oh no,” you whispered, grinding once—just once—slow and purposeful. “Am I distracting you?”

Click.

Headset off. Controller thrown. Glasses removed like a man entering his villain arc.

“Fuck it.”

You didn’t even have time to scream before he tackled you sideways on the couch like a sexy human bear trap.

“You want attention?” he growled against your neck, voice low and gravelly and wrecked. “You want the spotlight? You got it.”

Your hoodie was halfway off in a blur, your laugh turning into a moan when his hands slid up your thighs like he owned them.

“Erik—”

“No,” he cut in, biting at your jawline. “You don’t get to sass me all day, wiggle on my lap mid-match, then act surprised when I decide to rearrange your whole evening.”

You gasped, heart slamming. “I didn’t even get to taunt you about your KD—”

“I will shut you up for good. Don’t tempt me.”

Then he did exactly that.

He kissed you like the world was ending and your lips were the final reward. Deep, filthy, tongues clashing, hands gripping your waist like a lifeline. You clawed at his shirt, pulling it over his head, desperate to feel skin. Heat. The body that made fun of you in the kitchen and then broke beds like a war god.

He shoved your shorts down with one hand, the other already between your legs, groaning like you were the one playing with him.

“God, you’re soaked,” he hissed. “This is what happens when you act up, Peach?”

You whimpered, nodding .

“This is what happens when you play without me.”

“Oh, I’m the problem?”

“Yes,” you gasped. “And I’m not sorry.”

“You will be.”

And then he slammed into you, hard and deep and without mercy — pulling a scream from your throat so loud the neighbors probably unlocked their doors.

You grabbed onto him like a lifeline, every thrust knocking your thoughts clean out of your skull.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow.

Just drove into you like a man with a vendetta and zero fear of consequences.

“Still mad about the match?” he grunted.

“Still mad I didn’t get to trash talk your kill-death ratio,” you panted.

“Oh yeah?” he growled. “Say something smug now.”

You tried—tried to open your mouth—but he hit that spot and your whole body jerked, brain blue-screened.

“Thought so,” he smirked. “Can’t talk shit with your voice breaking, baby.”

When you finally came—loud, trembling, clawing down his back like you were gonna carve your initials into him—he followed with a raw, guttural groan, burying himself in you like he never wanted to leave.

Panting. Sweating. Wrecked. He collapsed next to you.

“…Don’t even say it,” he warned.

You grinned, already opening your mouth.

“I will gag you with that headset, Peach.”

You giggled. “Can I sit on your lap again?”

“Touch me and I’ll bend you over the console.”

“…So that’s a yes?”

10 minutes later

You were still starfished across the couch like the aftermath of a natural disaster. Sweat sticking your hair to your forehead. No pants. Possibly one sock. Heart rate still legally disqualified from casual activity.

Erik was slumped next to you, one arm flung over his eyes like someone recovering from a spiritual experience or a very good car crash. Chest rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon through hell and heaven back-to-back.

“I can’t feel my thighs,” you muttered.

“Can’t feel my spine,” he grunted. “You wanna compare nerve damage?”

“I’m gonna sue you for sexual manslaughter.”

He rolled his head toward you, glasses long gone, hair tousled, lips swollen from the world’s most aggressive makeout session.

The look on his face? A mix of smug victory and God, I’m obsessed with this brat.

“Good,” he rasped. “Let the court see my work.”

You wheezed a laugh. “I was supposed to make dinner.”

“You did,” he muttered, finally moving to stretch his arms. “You served pussy and bad decisions. Five stars. Michelin rated. Almost died. Would eat again.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“You’re the one who sat on my lap mid-match like some kind of fuzzy-socked succubus.”

You wiggled your hips in his direction with a wicked smile. “Was it worth it?”

He gave you a long look. The smirk twitched. Then: “…No.”

You gasped. “You liar!”

He lunged at you, dragging you into his lap again with zero warning.

"You wanna test me?” he growled into your neck, kissing you like a threat. “I will flip this couch over. I will miss game night. I’ll cancel plans with my friends and ruin your sleep schedule.”

You giggled and clung to him. “You’re so dramatic.”

He kissed you again. Hot. Hungry. Possessive.

“I’m not dramatic. I’m devoted.”

“Sounds like you’re simping.”

He bit your neck.

“AH—FINE OKAY YOU WIN.”

He chuckled darkly, gripping your hips again like he was debating round two. Or three. Or infinity. “That’s what I thought.”

But before either of you could attempt survival sex part two, your stomach growled loud enough to interrupt the vibe.

“…You hear that?” you blinked.

“You mean the demon in your stomach asking why you skipped dinner to get your guts rearranged?” he said flatly.

You blinked again.

“Oh my God. THE PIZZA.”

Erik stared at you. Dead inside. “…What pizza?”

“The pizza I SAID I WAS ORDERING. AFTER ROUND ONE.”

He blinked. Then pointed to himself, still very naked, still tangled with you. “And what the fuck about this screamed ‘you’d actually follow through’?”

You rolled off him and stood up, legs wobbly. “Okay, listen. I got distracted by dick. It happens.”

He leaned back, arms behind his head, looking entirely too proud. “You’re welcome.”

You tossed a pillow at his face. “You wanna live? Order the pizza. My legs don’t work.”

“You broke your own legs, horny brat. That’s a self-inflicted injury.”

“ERIK.”

He groaned dramatically but reached for his phone anyway. “You want the usual or you want your freak pineapple garbage again?”

“I want food. I’ll even let you pick toppings. I’m still dizzy.”

He raised a brow. “You’re that hungry?”

You gave him a look. “I’m one orgasm away from hallucinating a food truck.”

He paused, evil twinkle in his eye. “…One away?”

You stared.

He stared back.

The pizza app was still open in his hand.

You slowly took a step backward. “Erik, don’t.”

“Just one, Peach.”

“I SWEAR TO GOD—”

Too late. He tackled you. Again.

[luvs4matt]

𝐀 𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃 ✿ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

“mm so i turned you on? got you all hot and bothered? maybe a little needy”

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 - dom!bestfriend!matt x sub!bratty!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - in which reader gets an attitude 4 different times that day, 1 time matt does something about it.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - use of y/n, implied aftercare, slight fluff at the end, SMUT, rough sex, doggy style, cowgirl, missionary, orgasm denial, degradation, praise, begging, bratty reader, angst?, sir kink, spanking (ass and tits), fingering, punishment, nicknames (baby, baby girl, doll, sweetheart, good girl, my girl, whore), dirty talk, oral (m receiving), kissing/makeout, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, cream pie

with love and stems, cherry ღღ

𝟏𝟎:𝟐𝟑 𝐀𝐌

“𝐇𝐄𝐘“ 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 the couch to sit down next to you

you heard him but didn’t reply, you simply left your eyes on the tv “you okay kid?”

“oh my god, i’m fucking fine i just don’t want to talk!”

matt decided to not respond leaving you alone

he steals glances at you making sure you’re actually okay and not lying to him

“the fuck are you looking at” you had noticed his glances as soon as they started, you tried to not say anything but you couldn’t anymore

“sorry” he mumbles

𝟏:𝟓𝟔 𝐏𝐌

“i’m going to the store, do you need me to grab anything there for you?” he asks while walking into your bedroom

same thing as earlier, you didn’t respond

“y/nnn hello” you look up at him through your eyelashes giving “what.”

“i asked you if you needed anything from the store while i’m there” you roll your eyes as he repeats his question “and i didn’t answer you. that means no.”

“okay, my bad”

𝟔:𝟑𝟒 𝐏𝐌

“FUCK OFF” you yell from behind the door

matt had knocked on your door to ask you if you wanted to come with him, nick, chris, and a few friends to dinner

instead of listening to you he asks his question from the other side of the door

you open your door looking at him saying “i said fuck. off.” before shutting the door right in his face

matt rolls his eyes getting sick of your attitude

𝟏𝟏:𝟑𝟔 𝐏𝐌

you’re curled up in a ball on the triplets couch; nick went to sleep around an hour ago, chris joined him about half an hour later. now only leaving you and matt in the living room “wanna watch a movie” matt asks

you glare at him before going back to your phone “are you sure you’re okay?” this time you keep your eyes on your phone “yes? why wouldn’t i be?” your attitude still there “you have had a attitude all day with me, what happened?” you immediately get out of your position now sitting normally

“i haven’t had a fucking attitude matt! i just want you to leave me the hell alone, is it that hard? it is so easy to hate you sometimes”

matt is done with your attitude

he stands up walking over to you “what the fuck are y-“ you cut yourself off when he bends down gripping your jaw with his hand

“no, absolutely not, that is not what were gonna do, you will not disrespect me” he whispers “if you don’t like it then do something about it” you spit

he moves his hand down to your waist turning you over so you are now face down ass up

you’re about say something but instead gasping as a hard slap lands on your ass “fuck!” your hands grip onto the cushions “so tell me doll, why have you been bratty all day” another hard slap landing on your ass

“i- i don’t know” you stutter, another slap “nope. try again”

“i’m sorry” another slap “that’s not a reason”

“i- i was just i- in a bad mood” another slap “not good enough”

“y- you” another slap “yeah? hows that”

“um, y-your hands, the- the rings, the placement” his hands aren’t slapping your ass anymore, they are now massaging it

“and, your arms” matt wishes he could see the look on your face “what about my arms, what did you like”

jesus what is there not to like “they looked good.. really good, the shirt you were wearing accentuated them”

“mm so i turned you on? got you all hot and bothered? maybe a little needy” he chuckles as you nod your head “you want me to help with that sweetheart?”

you try and push your hips back to meet his front but fail when he uses the grip on your waist to keep you in place “please”

“y’know whats funny? just a few minutes ago you were telling me you hate me, now you’re sitting here in front of me practically begging me to touch you”

you whine at his words knowing he was right

his hands travel from your waist to the waistband of your shorts silently asking for permission “please matt” he pulls your shorts down in one swift motion

he chuckles at the sight in front of him “no panties?” his fingers making contact with your hole rubbing back and forth at a teasingly slow pace “your fucking soaked, is this all from my hands? my arms? what’s it from doll”

“everything, y- you, your arms, hands, words, e- everything, just everything” you whimper at the small movements on your core “you like how i talk too you? thats so cute” when he says his last words he plunges his two fingers inside of you

you moan at the feeling of his fingers slowly gliding in and out of you “faster” you try pushing your hips towards him but once again failed “be patient.”

you groan in annoyance “i swear to god matt if you don’t fucking-“ suddenly his movements are much faster than before

so many lewd sounds coming from behind you “shit!” you could feel the cold metal of his rings brushing against you “what were you saying baby? i didn’t hear you” he taunts

“y- you were going too slow” his fingers speed up more “yeah? this good enough for you? or you want more?” before you could respond his fingers some how went faster

you moan in response

the pad of his thumb connects with your clit, you start to let out a loud moan but he covers your mouth “shut the fuck up” he growls

his fingers glide in and out of you at a fast pace, you could feel every movement he made, every curl he made of his fingers, every vein, every inch

you were going fucking insane, but in a good way

the tips of his fingers kissed your cervix with every thrust, he would pull his fingers almost completely out of you before shoving them as deep as they could inside of you

your moans and whimpers muffled by his hand, you take his hand off of your mouth “or what? your gonna punish me?” you whine when his fingers pull completely out of you with no return

you hear the small sound of matt talking off his clothes “cat got your tongue matty?” you laugh, your laugh comes to a quick stop when his palm makes contact with your ass

“turn the hell around” you compile turn around sitting on your knees, you stare at his dick in awe taking in how big he is “what? cat got your tongue?” he mocks before shoving himself inside of your now open mouth

he doesn’t take his time with you either, he is immediately shoving your face down, your nose hitting his pubic bone

he loved the sight of you gagging around him, you never pull back from him, taking his whole 8 inches in your throat “atta girl, putting that pretty mouth to good use”

he uses his free hand to feel on your throat to find where he is, once he finds where he sits he puts slight pressure on the area “you feel me right here babygirl? feel me so deep in your throat?” you nod your head considering you weren’t able to talk

he pulls out letting you get air for a quick second before shoving himself back in your throat

your makeup is ruined, wet mascara stains all over your cheeks, spit bubbles forming around your mouth, your hair held in a makeshift ponytail

hell YOU were ruined, after a couple more minutes he pulls out again

“lay down. now.” you lay your back down onto the couch allowing matt to crawl on top of you capturing your lips in a heated kiss

he trails his lips down to your neck, sucking, and biting, giving you a few more marks before moving back up to your lips “i need you” you mumble against his lips “yeah? want my cock inside of your wet little pussy” he lines his tip up with your entrance “yes.. please” he makes one swift movement bottoming out inside you

he pulls your tank over your head before starting his fast, hard thrust, he repeatedly hits a spot inside of you that you didn’t even know existed “s- so good” you moan

he wraps his hand around your throat adding slight pressure

“you feel good?” he taunts you are barely able to even speak “yes.. so so good” he continues pounding into you at a ruthless pace, watching how your face contorts in pleasure

your tits were bouncing with every thrust, just so fucking pretty

“god i could live inside of this pretty little pussy forever” the pleasure you were receiving was a embarrassing amount

you could feel everything, he is the first and only person who can fuck you raw, because now that you know how he feels inside of you, you don’t know if you will be able to stop

“i love this pussy so fucking much.” you clench around him at his erotic words, you start to lift your hips up in attempt to flip you over so your on top

but matt put a quick stop to it by placing both of his hands down on your lower stomach, putting most of his weight on the bulge of his dick inside of you speeding up his thrust “you better stop movin girl”

“i wanna ride it” you whine “yeah? how bad you wanna ride my cock?” it took a minute for you to respond due to all of the moans leaving your mouth “so bad matt, so so bad” your words were barely even spoken, it was practically all moans coming out of your mouth

matt knew what you were saying, but why not tease you more right? “what was that sweetheart? couldn’t hear you” you were fighting to get your words out but it was so hard “i- i wanna- oh my god!”

not only does matt speed up his thrust even more but he also starts to play with your clit, removing one of the hands that was on your stomach

“i’m sorry baby, i didn’t hear you that time either, one more time” matt is very amused with the sight under him “i wanna ri- oh fuck, wanna ride your cock so so bad, matty please!”

he quickly flipped you both over so you were now on top while his back was against the back cushions, you waste no time lining him back up to your hole before sinking down on him

you immediately start bouncing on him “why couldn’t you have been a good girl like this all day, didn’t even have to help you bounce on my cock”

your mouth was in a o shape. your eyes clenched shut “you gonna be good and do whatever i tell you to babygirl?” you could feel your orgasm creeping up on you already

“y- yes sir” the lewd sounds of skin slapping mixed with your moans and matts groans are the only thing to be heard throughout the whole house “mm good, good girl”

he could feel you were close, your noises were getting higher in pitch and closer together, you were clenching him hard “don’t cum” you open your eyes in surprise from being caught off guard

“w-what” you never took matt to be the kind of guy to deny orgasms, but you also more took him to be a soft dom kind of guy “i didn’t stutter sweetheart, you know what i said”

he grips your hips harder than before now controlling your hips, pushing your hips down to meet his as be thrust up into you “my sweet.. dirty.. little whore” he whispers in your ear

you start to squeeze him harder “you wanna cum sweet girl?” his voice laced with faux sympathy and mischief “yes..” he moves his lips to suck right under your ear while whispering “well too fucking bad”

you don’t know how he was able to but he quickened his thrust once again

tears of pleasure and frustration run down your cheeks as your orgasm is dangerously close “please! ill do anything! please just let me cum please!” he could tell you were on the edge of not being able to wait so he pulls out of you completely

“no! no! no!” matt brushes his fingers through your hair as you cry harder “shh it’s okay, you said you’ll let me do whatever i want to you correct?” you mumble a ‘mhm’ into his shoulder

a harsh slap landing on your ass causing you to yelp “correct?” you had never seen any side of matt remotely close to how he is right now, you should probably be scared but you weren’t, you loved it

“yes sir!” he presses a soft sweet kiss on your neck “well i want you to turn around, face down, ass up, and do not cum until i tell you otherwise, understand?” you don’t think you had ever been turned on more in your life

“yes sir” you un-straddle him getting into the position he wanted, now facing the kitchen “you listen so well” he praises as bottoms out, towering over you with his arm wrapped around your neck

he stays still inside of you, waiting for you to get worked up and annoyed “please fuck me matty please” and he succeeded “you need it baby?” hot tears run down your face in frustration “yes..”

“then beg for it” he feels you clench around him at his demand “please.. i need it, i need you to make me cum matt, please” matt was very satisfied with your begging

“aw you do? need me to make you cum, hm?” he teases “yes, please i need it so bad” he pulls out of you almost completely before slamming back into you, a loud, broken moan erupts from your throat

he thrust into a few more times before stopping his movements “i didn’t hear a thank you” instead of matt slapping you on your ass he slapped your tits “t- thank you! please, don’t stop! ill be a good girl i promise!” he restarts his thrust in and out of you, finding the perfect rhythm

“i expect you to keep that promise” your noises continue to get louder and louder to the point nick and chris could wake up at any moment now “shut that fucking mouth”

you whine as he starts to thrust harder “i- I’m sorry, j- just feels s-so good” you stutter “yeah? as much as i love those pretty little noises of yours, we can’t have chris knowing how pretty my girl sounds”

your orgasm starts to re-appear in your stomach “m’gonna cum! please! please let me cum!” your hands grip onto the arm he had wrapped around your throat “have you been a good girl?” your tear droplets have turned into sobs at this point

“yes! i’ve been such a good girl for you! only you!” you were using all your strength to hold off your orgasm “go ahead babygirl, make this cock yours” the band in your stomach snaps, releasing all over him “thank you! thank you! thank you!”

“there you go, thats my good girl” his pace stayed the same over stimulating you

you surge forward from the over stimulation but was quickly pulled back “don’t fucking run from me” he groans “t- too much!” you were sore but you really didn’t want him to stop

he slows his movements to tease you “you want me to stop?” you shake your head vigorously “see, i knew you could take it”

you could hear every moan and groan he let out into your ear

“so tight around me, fuck” matt places his hand down on the bulge in your stomach from his cock “oh my god! matt! too much! too much!” you squeal “i’ll stop when you cum”

your sobs and moans only spur him on “i’m close matt! so so close!”

“you gonna cum with me sweetheart?” you let out a faint ‘mhm’ “come on babygirl, cum” his words quite literally send you over the edge, his orgasm follows right after you stilling his hips with a loud groan

he stays inside of you for a minute before pulling out

you plop down on your back, legs still shaking “so i’m your girl?” you ask “well do you want to be my girl” you pretend to think about it before responding “yeah, i think so”

he places a soft kiss to your lips while he picks you up off the couch “lets go get my pretty girl cleaned up”

© luvs4matt

a/n - i don’t know if i love this or hate it, but i hope all of you love it 🩷

[v1sexual]

Gym buddy Vi ! Head-canons + small blurb 𖦹

sfw & nsfw ! nsfw under the cut !

note :

this is lowkey ass guys im not even gonna lie :,) i haven’t written for a year so im really rusty 🫡 anyways ,, hope u guys enjoy ! (my asks are open as well <3)

𖦹

sfw !

Gymbuddy Vi! Who you always had teeny tiny crush on after seeing her absolutely go nuts on one of the punching bags.

Gymbuddy Vi! Whose first encounter with you was when she saw you deadlifting and noticed your form was a bit off so she decided to walk up to you and give you a couple of pointers.

Gymbuddy Vi! Who you found out lived in the same apartment complex as you.

Gymbuddy Vi! Who always helped you out at the gym. Whether it’s spotting, helping you with weights, or motivating you to do another rep.

Gymbuddy Vi! Who agreed to teach you a bit of kickboxing when you begged her to, after watching her totally wreck the punching bag.

Gymbuddy Vi! Who texts you if you’re going to the gym then waits for you outside your door, and drops you off at your door after the gym session.

Gymbuddy Vi! Who brings you pre-workout, protein shakes, or an energy drink everytime you go the gym.

Gymbuddy Vi! Who was totally not looking at how your ass looked in those cute mini biker shorts.

nsfw !

Gymbuddy Vi! Who can’t help but gawk at your breasts that one time you decided to change right in front of her. Her eyes focused on your chest as you wiped the sweat with your shirt.

Gymbuddy Vi! Who only took her eyes off you when you cleared your throat, you raised an eyebrow at her. An amused look present at your face.

Gymbuddy Vi! Who apologized and pulled a crappy excuse out her ass and started changing.

Gymbuddy Vi! Whose eyes found its way back to you, and boy was she surprised to see you bent over slipping your gym short off revealing the pink thong you wore underneath.

Gymbuddy Vi! Who was lowkey disappointed when you immediately put some sweatpants on.

𖦹

“You alright vi?” you called out, still in your sports bra. Vi hummed, slowly peeling her eyes off you. She took her shirt off, your eyes went wide as you got a clear view of the tattoo on her back.

“I didn’t know your back tattoo was that big,” you called out, slipping a hoodie on. Vi turned her head towards you, “Wanna see it up close?” she teased.

You shrugged and started walking towards her. “Can I touch you?” You asked, Vi raised an eyebrow and you immediately stumbled on your words. “I meant your back- I just wanted to take a closer peak at the tattoo. The design just looked really-“

Vi lets out an amused laugh and turned her back on you, “Go ahead shortcake. I don’t mind.”

Rolling your eyes, you placed your hand on her back. Gently tracing the intricate pattern of her back tattoo. As an art major, you’ve always loved seeing unique designs be it on canvas, digital art, or tattoos. Tattoos are what piques your interest the most though, you loved how all tattoo designs are personal, you loved how the intricate pattern of ink on a person’s skin tells a story.

Vi lets out a low groan which pulled you from your thoughts, you quickly took your hand off her back.

“Sorry,” you murmured. Eyes still fixed on Vi’s back. Vi turned to look at you, her cheeks flushed and goosebumps littered her skin. “It’s alright shortcake, I didn’t mind.”

You and Vi stared at each other for what felt like forever, and the next thing you know you were pinned against the lockers. Vi’s face a couple inches away from yours. You could feel her breath on your lips, her eyes never left yours as she slowly leans in.

When Vi’s lips met yours you were caught off guard. You expected her kiss to be hard and rough, but instead her lips moved softly against yours. Her hands resting on your waist as you wrapped your arms around her neck.

“I’ve been waiting forever to do that,” Vi whispered against your lips as you broke from the kiss. You gave her a cheeky smile, “Took you long enough.”

Your lips met again, but this time the kiss was harder. Vi slipped her hands inside your jacket, feeling the soft skin of your stomach. You let your head rest against the locker when Vi buried her head in your neck. She started leaving trails of small soft kisses on your skin as her hands rest just below the strap of your bra.

“Can I—“ Before Vi could even finish her sentence, the locker room door slammed open. She immediately stepped back and quickly put on a shirt just before a couple of girl entered the room. They didn’t pay you two any mind and started gathering their things.

Vi quickly grabbed both of your gym bags, her free hand clasped yours as she leads you out of the locker room. “How about we continue this at home?” She whispered, leaning down to your ear level. You rolled your eyes playfully and hummed in response, as you two walked hand in hand towards your apartment.

[imtaashu]

❝ Where’s the Trophy? ❞

Inspired by: “The Alchemy” – Taylor Swift

✮ pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader ✮ summary: At the end of a tough mission, Bucky could be chasing medals—but he runs straight to you instead. ✮ genre: Fluff | Soft Drama | Hurt/Comfort | Protective Bucky ✮ word count: ~2k ✮ warnings: Post-mission angst, emotional vulnerability, strong comfort themes (no violence beyond mission reference). ✮ Author’s Note: Feel this like a warm hug after a storm. This one is all about the awards you never knew you needed—the kind only living, breathing love can give. 💗 Thanks to The Alchemy for the soundtrack in my heart while writing this. I hope it gives you ALL the soft feels. ✦ welcome to my bucky brain rot. masterlist lives here ✦

It starts with the sound of the jet. You know the exact pitch of it by now—the subtle, low roar of the engines when the quinjet comes in just a little too fast. Too eager. Too Bucky.

You’re waiting. Standing by the landing pad with your hands shoved into the sleeves of your hoodie. The wind is biting, and the sun’s already sinking behind the skyline, casting everything in gold.

The moment the hatch opens, your heart skips.

He’s always the first one off. Not because he’s in a hurry to report. Not because of protocol. Because he knows you’ll be there.

And you always are.

“There’s my girl.” He says it before he even reaches you. Voice rough, low from comms chatter, but it’s yours. Just yours.

And he runs. Not in a sprint. Not desperate. Just fast enough that you know—nothing else mattered until he saw you.

✦✦✦

You don’t wait for the hug. He’s already pulling you in.

Arms around your waist, face buried in your neck, breathing you in like you’re oxygen and the mission nearly took all of his.

“Didn’t get scratched up this time,” he mumbles. “Aren’t you proud?”

“Very proud,” you whisper back, smiling against his hair. “Still wanna check for bruises, though.”

He laughs. The real kind. The kind that melts into your chest and makes your fingers tighten around him.

He holds you longer than necessary. Which, in your world, is exactly the right amount of time.

✦✦✦

Later that night, after debriefs and celebrations and Sam opening a bottle of whiskey that definitely wasn’t meant to be opened, the party’s in full swing.

Steve’s got a victory speech lined up. Nat’s already changed into jeans and is challenging people to darts.

Bucky? He’s across the room.

He’s smiling half-listening to whatever Sam’s going on about but his eyes keep finding you.

Like there’s a string between your chest and his heart, tugging.

"Where’s the trophy?” someone laughs. “This man just saved the day again.”

But by the time they finish the sentence, Bucky’s already gone.

Crossing the floor, eyes only on you. And then—his arms are around you again, tugging you into his chest in full view of everyone, unapologetic and so in love it nearly knocks the breath out of you.

“There you are,” he murmurs.

“Thought you were celebrating,” you tease.

“I am,” he says simply. “You’re the only thing I wanted to win.”

✦✦✦

Flashback: Three months ago.

First time he came back hurt. Not awful. Just a gash across his ribs and a bloody hand.

He insisted he was fine.

But when he walked into your apartment at 2AM, shoulders tense and eyes tired, he didn’t even take his boots off before grabbing you.

“Hey,” you’d whispered, already reaching for the med kit.

“M’okay,” he’d mumbled. “Just wanted to see you first.”

He let you clean the cut in silence. Let you kiss the bruises with all the tenderness he didn’t know he deserved.

And when you brushed his hair off his forehead and smiled, he swore then and there no matter how bad it got, he’d always come running home to you.

✦✦✦

Now, as the room hums with soft music and laughter, he’s got his hands around your waist again. Resting his cheek on your head like he fits there.

“You know,” you whisper, fingers playing with his zipper. “You’re kind of disgusting.”

He snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“Mm-hm. Saving the day. Winning hearts. Then making everyone jealous when you ignore the party just to cuddle me.”

He lifts your chin with two fingers.

“Let ‘em be jealous,” he says, brushing his lips to yours. “I already won.”

✦✦✦

You know what he means. Not just this moment. Not the day. Not the fight.

He’s talking about you. The fact that you waited.

The fact that you still get nervous butterflies when he walks through your door.

The fact that he’s learning to love with his whole heart again—because you gave it back to him.

✦✦✦

Back in the party room, Steve’s giving a toast. Bucky’s only half-listening. His hand is resting on your thigh under the table. Thumb rubbing soft circles. Always grounding. Always touching.

Sam clinks a glass “To Barnes, our MVP. Clutch save. Again.”

Everyone cheers.

But Bucky leans over and kisses your temple instead "Let them have the toast,” he says in your ear. “I already got the reward.”

You blush. Hard.

Because even after all this time—even after everything—you still feel like the girl who got chosen in a room full of legends.

“You make me feel like the trophy,” you whisper back.

His smile turns gentle. Devastating.

“You are.”

✦✦✦

That night, in your apartment, you find the old scar on his ribs while he’s brushing his teeth. You trace it with a fingertip “This one still hurt?”

He shakes his head "Not when you touch it.”

And maybe that’s what all of this is. The theory. The alchemy. The equation that never made sense until you.

Not a rescue mission. Not a victory.

Just this. Just him coming home. Every time. To you.

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────────

💌 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 💌

@nerdreader @starstruckfirecat @baguwagu @sunday-bug @murnsondock @7batsinatrenchcoat @overwintering-soldier @embervelour @surebutwhy @thiscornerofmyfanficbrain @okaytrashpanda @aceofheartsssss @the-real-kellymonster🎀🩷🎀🩷

wanna be tagged in all upcoming theories + emotional damage + forehead kisses? ➝ reply or send me an ask and i’ll add you ♡

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ─────────

[greengoblinswifey]

Crawling Back to You- Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— you overhear a conversation rafe has with his kook friends and get your payback.

warnings— angst, arguing, sub!rafe, oral(f receiving), Y/N standing on big business!

a/n— based off rafe’s conversation about sofia in s4 ep 3 I listened to Do I Wanna Know? by Artic Monkeys to get this idea <3

You were heading over to Rafe and his friends when you overheard it- him badmouthing you to them. It was casual enough, but his words cut deep.

“I’m not living with a pogue. Just ‘cause we’re together doesn’t make her my girlfriend,” he said, his voice laced with arrogance.

You froze just around the corner, your breath catching in your throat. Your heart sank. Was that how he really felt about you? Was everything between you a lie?

You couldn’t listen to any more. Turning on your heel, you rushed back to his house, your mind swirling with hurt and anger. You collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make sense of it all. Part of you wanted to scream, but instead, your body gave in to exhaustion, and you drifted off into a restless sleep.

Hours later, you woke to the feeling of lips pressing against your neck. Rafe was back, sliding into bed beside you, nuzzling your skin like nothing was wrong. You stiffened, jerking awake, your emotions still raw. Without a word, you slipped out of bed and went straight to the bathroom.

Confused, Rafe sat up. “Hey, what's wrong?” he called out, his voice heavy with irritation, but you ignored him. The hot water from the shower didn’t wash away the sting of his words. As you got dressed and headed into the kitchen to make something to eat, Rafe followed close behind, his frustration building.

“What's going on? Why are you ignoring me?” he demanded, standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he watched you move around the kitchen like he wasn’t even there.

You gritted your teeth, his words from earlier still echoing in your mind. Every second that passed without you acknowledging him only made him angrier.

“Look at me!” he snapped, stepping closer. “Say something!”

You paused, your hand tightening around the spatula, and then you spun around to face him. “Oh, so you’re not living with a pogue, huh?”

Rafe blinked, caught off guard. “What are you on about?”

“Stop bullshitting me, Rafe. I heard you,” you snapped, your voice trembling from both anger and hurt.

He stiffened. “Were you spying on me?”

That was it. You snapped. “Shut the fuck up, Rafe! Stop deflecting!” you yelled, your voice raw with emotion. “You won’t have to worry about living with this pogue anymore, since I’m not your girlfriend. I’ll make it easy for you.”

You turned, storming up the stairs toward the bedroom, your heart pounding as you began to pack your things. Rafe was hot on your heels, his voice almost desperate now.

“Wait, no, please! Don’t go,” he pleaded, his voice wavering as he reached for your arm. “I didn’t mean it. I need you, okay? I need you.”

You kept packing, refusing to look at him.

“I don’t care if you’re a pogue. That’s not what I meant! You’re… you’re everything to me. I just-” He cut himself off, his eyes glossing over, the panic clear on his face. “Please don’t leave. I’ll do anything.”

You stopped, finally turning to look at him. The sight of him, almost on the verge of tears, was something you’d never seen before. His usual bravado was gone, replaced by fear.

But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You don’t get it, do you? You can’t just say whatever you want and expect me to stay. You made your bed, Rafe. Now you can lie in it.”

He stood there, hands clenched at his sides, begging you with his eyes.

“Please baby, I’ll do anything. You’re all I have.”

You turned to him, your expression unreadable. He was rambling, his voice shaky as he begged you not to leave, but you cut him off with a cold, calm voice.

“Get on your knees.”

Rafe blinked, shocked, as if he hadn’t heard you right. “What?”

“I said get on your fucking knees,” you snapped, your voice sharp as you snapped your fingers. “Are you deaf or something? Do what I said.”

Hesitantly, he sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving yours. You stared down at him, his desperation clear in his face, his usual arrogance wiped clean.

“Now beg me to stay,” you ordered, your voice dripping with disdain. His lips parted, his face red with humiliation, but he did as you commanded. From across the room, he started to beg, pleading with you not to leave, telling you how sorry he was, how he didn’t mean anything he said.

“Crawl to me,” you demanded next, and without hesitation, he obeyed. Slowly, he crawled across the floor to where you stood, his hands gripping your legs, holding on as if you were the last thing keeping him afloat. He kept begging, his words desperate, pleading for you to stay with him, calling himself stupid, apologizing over and over again.

You laughed in his face, a cold, mocking sound, and his face turned red, embarrassment flooding his features.

“If you really want me to stay, then show me how sorry you are. Eat my pussy like you mean it,” you ordered, your voice cutting through his humiliation like a knife. “Make me cum, and maybe—maybe I’ll stay.”

His eyes widened at the command, but he didn’t hesitate. As you lay back on the bed, Rafe knelt between your legs, his lips immediately working against you, trying to show just how desperate he was to keep you there. His mouth moved with a fervor you’d never seen before, but even though it felt good, you held back, refusing to let him know just how close you were.

“Please,” he begged, his voice muffled as he continued. “Please, baby. Cum for me. I’m so sorry.”

Finally, you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your body gave in to the pleasure, and you came, his name on your lips. He looked up at you, relief washing over his face, as if he thought he had won.

“You’re gonna stay, right?” he said, his voice breathless, almost shaking. “Thank you, baby. I’ll never—”

But you cut him off with a harsh laugh, sitting up and pushing him away. “You really think that was enough?” you asked, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You really think I’m gonna fucking stay after what you said? That you can disrespect me behind my back and I’ll just forgive you because you ate me out?”

His face fell, the realization hitting him hard. You stood up, wiping yourself off, completely unfazed by the look of devastation in his eyes.

“I’m done, Rafe. I’m not gonna look like a fool staying with you after what you said. You think I’m gonna let you disrespect me again? Fuck your entitled, spoiled ass. My dream man would never treat me like this.”

Rafe was on his knees, tears brimming in his eyes, but you didn’t care. You were sick of him, sick of his bullshit. “Stay by yourself,” you spat, grabbing the last of your things. “Since you scrutinize pogues so much, you can live your lonely life without one because that’s what I’ll always be.”

He was still on the floor, almost in tears, as you zipped up your bag and headed for the door. Even as you walked away, he was clinging to your legs, still begging, but you ignored him. You pushed him off, and finally, he let go, left kneeling on the floor, pathetic, broken, and alone—as you walked out of his life for good.

[that-fan-girl]

Hit The Gas

Summery: At a party one night, longtime rivals stop fighting over the same girl—and decide to share instead.

Pairings: Zac Torres x Harris Bowers x Female Reader

Word Count: 2k

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Oral F! Receiving, Threesome, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Soft Zac, Dom Harris.

The house was full of smoke and sweat, music loud enough to rattle the goddamn windows. Somebody had spilled beer on the tile, and girls in denim cutoffs were moving off rhythm in the living room, trying to dance like it mattered. It didn’t.

I was leaning against the wall near the kitchen, plastic cup in hand, pretending to listen to someone talk about their bike rebuild when I felt it.

Two sets of eyes.

Zac — jaw locked tight like he was holding back something dangerous.

And Harris. Sitting sideways on the arm of the couch, legs spread, smirk cut across his face like he already knew what was gonna happen tonight.

He didn’t smile at me.

He nodded.

And I felt it down to my knees.

Next thing I knew, they were both in front of me. No words, no smile, no small talk.

Zac leaned in close to my ear. “We need a minute.”

Harris tugged the cup from my hand and passed it off like I wouldn’t be needing it.

My pulse went wild. “You good?”

He raised a brow. “That depends. You gonna come with us?”

I should’ve said something smart. I didn’t.

They walked me through the party like it was nothing. I caught Jackie’s wide eyes from the kitchen. She mouthed, girl, but I was already halfway up the stairs.

My room was small, half-messy, bed barely made. I turned to ask what the hell they were doing — but the door shut behind us with a click and Harris leaned against it, blocking the way out.

Zac stepped up close. Too close.

“Been watchin’ you all night,” he said, voice low, eyes locked on mine. “Tryin’ not to touch you.”

His hand brushed my hip.

Harris came up behind me, hands sliding under my shirt — palms warm and rough as he dragged it up slow. “Don’t act like you didn’t want this.”

My breath hitched. “You two… planned this?”

“No,” Harris murmured, mouth near my ear. “We just got tired of pretendin’ we don’t both want you.”

Zac kissed me then — no warning, just heat and tongue and his hand on my throat. My knees buckled. Harris caught me from behind, one arm around my waist, the other already sliding under the hem of my shorts.

I gasped, mouth falling open between Zac’s kisses.

“Fuck,” I whispered. “This is—”

“Right,” Harris said, dragging his teeth along my neck. “It’s right, baby.”

Zac’s hand slipped under my shirt, slow and reverent. “We’ll go as slow as you need.”

“Or not,” Harris added, already nudging me toward the bed.

My body gave out first. They didn’t give me a second to think. Harris pushed me down on the mattress, and Zac came with me — kissing me again, one knee between my legs, his hand still cradling my face like I was something worth holding onto.

“You wanna stop,” Zac murmured against my lips, “you say so.”

“And if she don’t?” Harris asked, yanking his shirt off in one motion.

Zac’s mouth curved just slightly. “Then we hit the gas.”

Zac was kissing me like he’d waited all year to do it — slow, deep. Every time I pulled away for air, he followed, like he couldn’t stand even a second of space.

Meanwhile, Harris knelt at the foot of the bed and hooked his fingers in my waistband.

“You don’t mind if I take my fuckin’ time, do you?” he asked, voice low, already tugging my shorts and panties down in one smooth drag. “Been thinkin’ about this. ‘Bout you.”

My knees fell open without me meaning to. The way they looked at me — like I was something holy they planned to ruin — had my whole body in flames.

Zac leaned down again, lips brushing my ear. “You okay, baby?”

That voice. That voice. Soft like honey, low like gravel.

“Yeah,” I breathed. “Don’t stop.”

He kissed my collarbone, then lower — unhurried — like he was memorizing every inch. My shirt came off somewhere in the haze. Fingers dragged down my ribs, my stomach, over the curves of my hips.

And then—warm breath.

Harris’s mouth on me.

I gasped — hips twitching — and Zac caught my wrists, holding them gently above my head, watching me come undone under both of them.

“Fuck,” I whimpered. “Harris—”

“Mhm.” His tongue worked slow, precise, greedy.

Zac kissed my jaw, then my chest, tongue teasing the edge of my nipple before sucking it into his mouth. I arched off the bed, my whole body strung tight between them.

“Let her feel it,” Zac whispered against me, looking straight down at Harris. “Don’t make her wait.”

Harris smirked. “You tellin’ me what to do now?”

Zac didn’t blink. “She’s already shaking.”

My thighs were trembling, and I wasn’t even trying to hold it back. I was soaked, wrecked, aching, and Harris hadn’t even fucked me yet.

His fingers slipped inside, thick and deep, curling just right.

“Jesus Christ,” I moaned.

Zac kissed me again, holding my jaw steady. “You like that, baby?”

I nodded, breathless, hips chasing every movement. “More.”

“You’ll get more,” Harris muttered, voice rough. “Gonna make you cum on my fingers first. Then you can fall apart on this cock.”

Zac chuckled softly against my skin — sweet and sinful. “Then mine.”

The room spun.

My orgasm hit hard — hips jerking, breath catching in my throat as I cried out into Zac’s shoulder. Harris didn’t stop. Not until I was shaking and twitching and begging under them.

Zac pulled back, watching me with flushed cheeks and stormy eyes. “You still sure, sweetheart?”

“God, yes.”

Harris stood and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Then get ready.”

He undid his belt slow, smirking.

He drove into me in one hard thrust, stealing the air from my lungs. My legs wrapped around him instinctively, trying to hold on, to ground myself as his hips slammed into mine again and again.

“Fuck, you take me so good,” he groaned, bracing one hand beside my head, the other gripping my thigh. “You love this.”

I cried out, overwhelmed — but then Zac was there.

Right beside me.

His hand slipped into mine, fingers lacing, grounding me. His other hand brushed my cheek, his lips finding my temple, then my jaw, then my mouth.

“You’re okay,” Zac whispered between kisses. “You’re so perfect like this.”

I moaned, caught between the delicious pain of Harris stretching me and the gentle sweetness of Zac kissing me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

Zac leaned in closer, lips grazing my ear. “Let go, baby. We’ve got you.”

Harris fucked me hard, hips slapping against mine, his breath ragged against my throat. “Look at you,” he growled. “Fucking made for this.”

Zac was pressing kisses down my neck now, soft lips trailing heat across my collarbone as his hand slipped between my legs, rubbing gentle, slow circles on my clit as Harris filled me over and over.

My whole body arched.

I turned my face to Zac, gasping. “Don’t stop—please—don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he murmured, kissing me again, slower this time. “I’ve got you.”

And he did. His fingers were heaven, his mouth worship.

Harris fucked me hard and fast, chasing his release, building me up higher and higher until I was breaking.

“Oh my god,” I whimpered, “I’m—I’m coming—”

Zac whispered against my lips, “Come for us, baby.”

And I did — body shuddering, hips jerking, everything spiraling out all at once. Harris followed, his rhythm turning ragged as he groaned deep, spilling inside me with one final thrust.

My body was still twitching when I felt Zac move. Slow, reverent, fingers ghosting over every oversensitive inch. He was kneeling between my legs now, eyes locked on mine.

"You ready for me, sweetheart?" His voice was velvet—low and rough in the quiet room, darker than before.

I nodded, chest still rising and falling, lips parted. "Zac… please."

Harris chuckled softly beside me, his hand stroking my thigh now, warm and possessive. “Didn’t even have to ask nice,” he said, leaning in to kiss my jaw, then my neck. “So desperate already.”

Zac leaned forward, bracing himself on one arm beside my head. “You're perfect like this.” His other hand slid between my legs, fingers dipping into where Harris had just been. I gasped, body clenching.

“So fucking wet,” Zac whispered, his mouth brushing mine. “I’ve wanted you like this since the second I saw you.”

He lined up, nudging gently at my entrance, then slid in with aching slowness. It wasn’t teasing—it was intentional. He watched me the entire time, like he wanted to feel every second of it with me.

The stretch was different with him—not as rough as Harris, but deeper somehow. Fuller. He groaned, low and guttural, like he was holding back everything.

“You feel like heaven,” he murmured, forehead pressing against mine.

Beside me, Harris’s hand moved up, fingers curling around my breast, thumb circling my nipple. His mouth brushed my ear.

“You look so fucking hot like this,” he whispered. “Taking him after me. Letting us both ruin you.”

I moaned, caught between them—Zac’s slow, relentless thrusts, Harris’s lips tracing my throat and his hand rolling sweet pressure across my chest.

Zac kept moving, deep and smooth, every roll of his hips sending sparks up my spine. He kissed me—slow, sensual, mouth moving with mine like he wanted to taste every breath I let out.

“You want us both?” Harris asked, lips dragging along my jaw. “You like being our girl?”

“Yes,” I gasped. “God, yes.”

Zac growled softly, like that flipped a switch inside him. He thrust harder, still measured, but with more force now—more emotion. His fingers tangled in my hair as he pulled back to look at me.

“I’m not being gentle because I think you’re soft,” he said, voice fierce and low. “I’m being gentle because I want to make you feel everything.”

I couldn’t answer. I was too lost in the rhythm, in Zac’s perfect, consuming pace, in the heat and pressure building again so fast I could barely breathe. My nails dug into his back, and he groaned, thrusting deeper, filling me completely.

“Come for him,” Harris whispered in my ear, fingers teasing between my legs now, rubbing exactly where I needed it. “Be a good girl and let him feel you fall apart.”

Harris slid two fingers against that sensitive spot, perfectly timed to Zac’s thrusts, drawing every last tremor from me. The pressure was unbearable — perfect. My back arched, hips trembling, breath catching.

“Come for him,” Harris whispered in my ear, voice like smoke.

Zac thrust deeper, a rough sound tearing from his throat as my body clenched around him. “That’s it,” he groaned. “Just like that.”

My orgasm hit like a wave, blinding and brutal — my cry caught between a sob and a scream as my body locked around him. Zac held on, burying his face in my neck.

Harris kissed my shoulder, fingers still teasing, voice warm and wicked. “Goddamn, baby. You look so beautiful right now.”

Zac's lips brushed mine, breath ragged. “You were made for this,” he murmured, still inside me. “Made for us.”

And I believed him. With my body still shaking, their hands still on me, their mouths still murmuring promises against my skin—

I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

[afroslacks]

Hi I saw that you were taking requests and I was wondering if you were interested in doing something with girldad smoke whose teen daughter has his negotiation skills and her uncle's smart mouth and hustler mentality getting into trouble at school and reader being upset because obviously she get it from those two

Or a smoke x stack x reader where they are together and they meet readers family who don't know about them and how they react to the relationship maybe throw in an annoying old fling of readers who won't leave her alone

Obviously only if you're interested it's cool if you're not

ou, Smoke, and Stack have been in a relationship for one year. But your relationship is anything but normal. Not many people date two siblings at the same time. So, you’ve decided to keep things private to save yourself from public scrutiny and prying eyes. The boys don’t care, as long as you don’t take your love away — that’s all they want: your love and affection.

You're lying on the couch with Stack holding your feet in his lap and Smoke sitting beside you.

“So, when are we going to tell your parents about us?” Stack asks, breaking the peaceful silence as the three of you watch television.

At the sound of his words, your heart drops at the uncomfortable question. Your eyes bulge.

“What?” you ask, sitting up from your position.

“You heard him. When are you going to introduce us?” Smoke pauses the television and turns to you.

In your mind, you're scrambling to come up with a million excuses to put this meeting off. But ultimately, none of them seem believable.

The twins are anything but stupid — pushy, sure — but stupid? Not a chance in hell.

“Baby, I would love to, but… you know how my family is.”

At your reply, Stack’s face curls in annoyance at your lame excuse, and he moves your feet from his lap.

“Bullshit,” he spits, standing up from the couch.

Smoke silently shakes his head at the situation unfolding. You reach out to place your hand on his arm, but he moves it before you can touch his skin — he feels betrayed by your lies.

“Elijah,” you croak, hurt by your usually silent lover. Smoke has always been the type to still love you, no matter how upset he got. After dating them for a while, you’ve grown used to Stack’s chaotic, unpredictable energy. But you’ve also come to understand the quiet storm that is Smoke.

“Are you ashamed of us or something?” Smoke asks, raising a brow.

You immediately shake your head. “No, baby, I love you both too much for that.”

Stack scoffs at your pretty words. “You sure as hell ain’t acting like it. We wanna be like normal couples and meet your family. Nothing in our lives has been normal or peaceful — except for you.” He confesses this, locking his deep brown eyes onto yours.

You exhale at the weight of his words and start to feel ashamed for trying to shut them out of another part of your life.

“I only said no because my family might not accept our relationship. They may view it as… unnatural,” you explain, looking at them both.

Your family is very religious, while you identify as atheist or agnostic. You’re not as deep into faith as they are. You prefer facts over fiction or fairy tales, which always makes things awkward. Even when you bring up a progressive idea, for some reason, those old folks still fantasize about "the good ol' days."

“So what — we’re supposed to be your dirty little secret until you walk down the aisle and give them a nice surprise?” Smoke asks, not buying your explanation.

“No—” you begin, but Stack cuts you off.

“Are we always supposed to disappear every time you get on FaceTime with them?”

You sigh heavily, trying again.

“I’m not saying—”

Smoke adds in, “Nah, Stack, she wants to keep her famous lie going — you know, that she's 'focusing on herself,' whatever that shit means.”

You shut your mouth, having no good comeback to combat their words.

Instead, you dramatically flop onto the back of the couch, looking at the ceiling and wishing you could rewind time by five minutes.

“Oh, now you ain’t got nothing to say?” Stack crosses his arms, standing in front of the television, refusing to let the conversation die.

After some thought, you come to the conclusion that you have nothing left to lose. So, reluctantly, you agree.

“Okay.”

The Moore twins break into big grins.

One week later

You sit in the passenger seat of Smoke’s car as Stack leans forward from the back like an eager kid, eyes glued to your family home. Then he shifts his attention to your queasy, uneasy face.

“Calm down, we’ll behave,” he snickers, placing a hand on your cheek and rubbing his thumb soothingly.

You hastily push his hand away.

“Not right now, Stack. I don’t have time for your games. When we get inside, I need you to behave,” you say, turning to look at him directly.

You don’t even glance at Smoke — he knows better. He doesn’t act like a crazy man.

“Whatever. Let’s go. I’m ready to meet my in-laws,” Stack says as he gets out of the car. Then he opens your door, standing there with his hand out, ready for you to place your palm in his.

You look at him reluctantly, then slowly place your hand in his, wondering if it’s too late to back out.

Sensing your hesitation, both twins each grab one of your arms and begin walking you toward the door.

“Don’t run now — we haven’t even made it to the door yet,” Smoke says, tightening his grip.

Stack firmly knocks.

Moments later, your mother opens the door with a smile — which quickly fades when she sees your uneasy face.

“Honey, what’s wrong? I thought you said we were meeting your lover.”

You say nothing, heart racing, hoping she picks up on the situation herself.

She looks past you to the twins.

“Hello. I’m Elijah, and this is my brother Elias. We’re both taken with your child,” Smoke says in the most gentlemanly voice possible.

Your mother looks back at you, eyes wide — and promptly faints.

“Mama!” you cry, breaking free from the boys to check on her.

Leaning over her, you place a hand on her forehead. Then you turn to the twins, frustration bubbling.

“Now do you see why I didn’t want you to meet them?” you scoff, then turn back toward your mother. “Monica, what are you doing on the floor?” you hear your father call out as his footsteps approach.

Just when you think the day can’t get any worse, it does.

You remember — all of this started just because they were so desperate to meet your family.

Stack mutters, “Baby, your mama’s dramatic, and I don’t even know her yet,” adjusting his clothes.

Then your father finally appears at the door. He takes one look at the twins, then down at you.

“What the fuck is this?” he asks, staring at you with a mix of anger and disappointment.

You focus on your mother, unable to meet his eyes.

[suigenerisisadiva]

IF THE BATFAM HAD A REALITY SHOW: EPISODE 2 !COSTCO EXCLUSIVE! - FEAT BATSIS!READER

Pairings: Batfam x Batsis, batboys x batsis Content: Swearing, crude humour, Damian is a warning in himself lets bfr, classist jokes, reader calls Bruce "Daddy" in a platonic way, because that's what I call my father, the internet has sexualised that word too much imo

A/N: This was so fun you guys, if you want more pls tell me Huzzlings I tag: @ilona2nerrie, @softieekayy, @inejinn, @watchmakerhippo

🖤The Wayne Family: Trauma, Trust Funds & Tiaras🖤 – Episode 2: ‘The Costco Incident’

[OPENING SCENE: Theme Song Over Slow-Mo Glam Shots]

Flashing paparazzi. Designer heels on marble floors. One (1) feral sibling wrestling someone off-camera. Cut to black SUVS, Steph falls into pool. Tim is asleep in the confessional booth. The screen reads:

They have money. They have issues. And now they have a camera crew.

NARRATOR:

“Previously on Trauma, Trust Funds, and Tiaras—Stephanie discovered her incompetencies in the kitchen, Richard had a catastrophic breakdown leading up to the family dinner and Y/N had her banana milk stolen and never found out about the offender, this week on Trauma, Trust Funds & Tiaras, the Wayne take a trip to Costco, in attempts for "middle class immersion" in the words of Mr.Wayne.

CONFESSIONAL CAM - Y/N

[Y/N]: Daddy said we needed to learn how to ‘live like the commoners.’ So he rented out a Costco. Because obviously the most grounded way to experience the working class is by clearing out a warehouse that sells peri peri sauce by the bucket. I came for the free samples and banana milk.... and to watch Tim horde coffee beans and red bulls like a fucking dumbass

SCENE: INT. COSTCO – DAY

Dick, with wonder in his eyes: I love Costco it's like Target but on creatine.

Jason: (Already holding three rotisserie chickens) I'm not leaving without the giant teddy bear. I need it. For my—emotional support.

Tim: Why is everything in packs of 600?

Damian: (pushing the cart as though it is a war chariot) WHY ARE THERE THREE KILOS OF GRATED CHEESE IN THE CART?

Y/N: (holding a 1.5kg jar of Nutella and appears to be bench pressing a 72 pack of banana milk) “You bitches are asking the wrong questions. Where are the food samples?”

CONFESSIONAL CAM: TIM

Tim: Y/N took one of those free samples and looked the poor woman dead in the eye and said, ‘I’m going to need a whole pie for testing purposes.’ And somehow she GOT IT.

SCENE: HOUSEHOLD SUPPLIES AISLE

Bruce: (reading label) Darling, do we need a pack of 48 bath towels?

Y/N: We didn’t need a 70-room mansion either did we daddy, but here we are.

Jason: Are we talking about regrets? Because I found a kayak. I want the kayak.

Dick: Jason, we don’t have a lake????

Jason: Didn’t say I’d use it on water Dickwad

CONFESSIONAL CAM – DAMIAN

Damian, (arms crossed, fully serious): I tackled someone for the last tub of hummus. I have no regrets. They were 76. Survival of the fittest.

SCENE: CHECKOUT

Employee: (terrified) That’ll be $9,873.42.

Y/N: (hands over another party-sized bag of doritos, walks over to buy hotdog ) Dad, blink once if you’re judging me.

Bruce: (does not blink)

Tim: We bought 120 rolls of toilet paper.

Y/N: “You say that like you don’t have trust fund anxiety.”

Jason: “I bought a tent even though don’t camp, I just wanna to sit in it when I hate all of you

CONFESSIONAL CAM – DICK

Dick: We lost Damian for a few minutes and when we found him he was in the mega camping tent on display

CONFESSIONAL CAM – BRUCE

Bruce: I wanted to teach them humility. Instead, Y/N asked if she could buy a forklift ‘just because it looks like fun.’

CONFESSIONAL CAM – Y/N

Y/N: I did donuts in the Costco parking lot with my Urus, I made Tim film it.Jason joined in with his motor bike, and Dick stole the dirt bike Dad bought Damian, I literally love this family.”

ENDING SCENE: THE LOADING DOCK

Bruce stares at a mountain of bulk items.

Jason and Dick are sword fighting with baguettes.

Tim is checking if they got enough cold brew to last the week (they didn’t).

Y/N is trying to fit a 2m teddy bear into The Range Rover because her Urus' boot is full

Damian is attempting to indoctrinate a goose that wandered in from outside into crime fighting.

Narrator:

“Next week on Trauma, Trust Funds, and Tiaras — - the Waynes throw a charity gala, Y/N mistakes it for a themed rave. - Tim overdoses on espresso, needing a chamomile tea IV Drip, - Jason wears the giant teddy bear as a disguise. “Tune in for more wealth, whiplash, and whatever the hell Damian’s doing in the koi pond.”

LMFAO I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED THIS!!!!!

Likes, comments, reblogs and requests are highly appreciated! Requests are open!

Sources !-

Blue lines - @cursed-carmine

Bat dividers - @sister-lucifer

Batfam Header - Pinterest (Robin #6)

This post is property of suigenerisisadiva.

[jilixthinker]

birthday present

💗 jisung × fem!reader × felix

word count: 2.5k

warning: threesome, poly relationship, sub!jisung, sub!felix, dom!reader, mommy kink (as usual), heavy m×m, unprotected sex (both piv and anal), oral sex (f receiving), little cock play, facesitting, creampie

a/c: happy birthday to my love, my one and only, the joy of my life. this looked like the right occasion for a bit of a jilix sandwich. enjoy!!

please consider reblogging if you like my works!

.

“Happy birthday angel.”

Jisung doesn’t even manage to close the door before being surrounded by the warm smell of apple and cinnamon. The scent lingers in the air, out of the semiclosed oven, flies all through the tiny living room to finally reach his nose.

“Did you bake for me?” he asks, a shy smile appearing on his face.

“Lix and I thought that it would be nice to let you have something before the actual present,” you smile in response, “happy birthday my love”, you repeat.

Jisung looks at you, eyes dropping to your bare thighs. “Is that my shirt?” he gulps, Adam’s apple bobbing from the movement.

“Uh, yes,” you nod, opening your arms and offering him a smirk. “Lixie’s wearing mine.”

Jisung giggles, wobbling closer to you and letting himself being wrapped into the space between your arms, abandoning his face in the crook of your neck.

“Which one?” he asks, nuzzling his nose against your collarbone and sniffing the smell of your skin mixed with the detergent you use for the laundry. It’s almost sickeningly sweet, but he loves it.

“The pink fluffy sweater, the one with a v cut,” you whisper back on his hair, your arms bringing him as closer as you can and squishing him on your chest. “He’s all dolled up for you, looks like a cute little gift. Wanna see?”

Jisung giggles again, “Is he waiting?”

“We were both waiting, baby” you breathe softly against his forehead, placing a sweet kiss on the sweaty skin.

“Didn’t want to make you wait.”

“Don’t be sorry. You just know how he can get when he’s impatient.”

You take his right hand from behind your back and you bring it over your thigh, close to the hem of the shirt you’re wearing. “But I stopped him just in time. Didn’t want to unpack your present before you came.”

The innuendo isn’t lost in your tone, and Jisung grabs the plush meat of your thigh as a small sigh leaves his lips. His fingers find the fabric of your panties underneath and he cups you through the cotton.

“You’re wet” he mutters. His knuckles rub softly against your pussy, warm and damp even if the fabric is stopping him from feeling you properly.He moans quietly at the feeling.

“He was very needy,” you chuckle, pecking him on the full cheek this time, “I had to keep him from fucking the pillow” you explain while Jisung’s fingers keep brushing over your clothed folds. Your lips are sticky and hot under your panties, but the feeling of arousal is enough to keep him going. “But I’m not sure he’s not doing that right now that I left him unsupervised. Wanna check?”

His hand stutters to a stop and he nods feverishly against your shoulder. You give him another light peck on his nose and you start heading to your shared room. He follows you, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind.

When you open the door, Felix is not humping the pillow as you feared. Instead, he’s waiting on the bed, soft blankets wrapped around his mid section. Your pink sweater is wrinkled and pushed up to let his nipples breathe. They’re red and a little raw from all the suckling you did to keep him waiting before.

“H-happy birthday, Sungie.” Felix’s voice is strained and weak. He probably cried a little in the few minutes you both weren’t with him.

“See, baby?” you whisper to Jisung. “Needy baby was waiting. See how pretty he looks for you, mh?”

Felix cheeks are pink and glittery, the shade of blush you used is a little too cool for his undertone, but he looks gorgeous nonetheless. His lips are glossy and plump from the lipgloss you used on him. The mascara is a little smudged around the corner of his eyes, and he looks like a sweet candy ready to be munched.

Jisung’s breathing becomes a little unsteady. “Lix, you - uh - you r-really look like a gift,” he murmurs, repeating your words from earlier.

Felix sighs and he lets the blanket fall off his body. “Mama prepped me,” he hiccups, parting his knees and planting his feet on the mattress. “Prepped me for you, she said… she said you’d want to fuck me for your b-birthday.”

Jisung’s gaze fixes on the center of Felix’s legs. His cock lays on his tummy, a thick layer of precum forming little pearls on his pubes. Knowing Felix, Jisung can bet he probably neglected it while you were stretching him open, and then rubbed the head raw with the palm of his hand just enough to make him squirmy without letting himself cum.

But the focus of his attention drops lower, when he sees a mess of lube and spit all over his puckered hole, and he imagines your slim fingers pumping the liquid inside of him, one, two, three digits at the same time, and then he was begging you to stop before he’d make a mess of himself.

“Uh - I, mama,” he writhes while turning his face to look at your eyes “can I? Can I really fuck Lixie?”

You smile softly, “Of course, baby. I prepped him real well for you. It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”

Jisung nods fervently and his eyes go back to Felix. “Since it’s my birthday…” he gulps, “can I have mama as well? Together with Lixie?”

Lixie moans at his words and his cock throbs against the soft line of his abs. Jisung’s glassy eyes don’t leave him for a single second.

“My baby can have everything he wants today. He’s been a good boy all year long. Isn’t it right, Lix?” you ask to your other boy.

Felix beams. “Sungie’s been a good boy,” is ready to admit, “b-best boy. He deserves both Lixie and mama.”

“That’s right” you confirm. Then your gaze finds Jisung again. “How do you want mama, baby? Want me to fuck you while you top Lixie?”

Jisung shivers again, his face is red and hot under your attention. He looks at you, eyes watery while he tries to talk you back, but words are difficult right now. He gulps, nuzzling his face back to the crook of your neck and he shakes his head.

“Wan’ mama’s pussy. Wanna eat” he slurs while his lips trace the line of your neck.

You hum and your hand travels down between his leg, cupping his cock through his jeans and bringing your other hand to caress his face as you slot your lips together. Jisung kisses are always sloppy and messy, because he likes them that way. You trace him with your tongue, forcing his lips open and licking the roof of his mouth. Jisung is already panting heavily, and you know that you have to stop teasing him, but it's hard, so hard to stop yourself when he looks so soft and pliant.

You keep running your tongue over his teeth until you hear Felix whining on the bed, feeling neglected.

“Hop on, baby. Go to Lixie” you order, pulling down his pants and underwear in one swift motion. Jisung slowly nods. You can see his cock, hard and flushed, leaking on the fabric of his sweater. You coo at him, pushing him on the mattress where Felix is waiting for him with open arms.

“Sungie,” Felix cries as Jisung flops on top of him “missed you s’ much. Happy birthday. I love you - uhhh - love you a lot.”

You chuckle at your boys’ interaction and you pull down your own panties before crawling on the bed to join them, the fresh air hitting your aching core being both a teasing and a relief.

Jisung, eyes teary and lips already shiny with spit, shifts on the mattress until he finds himself in between Felix’s parted legs. He looks up to you, asking for permission, and you smile lovingly at him, bringing one hand to his hair and scratching his scalp while he grabs his knees and scoots until his groin is pressed against Felix’s.

“Oh,” he moans, “Lixie, you’re w-wet too”.

You nod at them while your fingers keep massaging Jisung’s nape.

“He’s so tight too, baby. Kept sucking my fingers in with his greedy little hole. He’s so warm, you’d believe you’re fucking a pussy instead.”

Felix wriggles and Jisung’s tip catches his slick rim. The action makes them moan in unison.

“How d’you wanna Felix, love?” you ask, sure that neither of your boys are actually capable of making the first move.

“C-can Lixie ride me, mama?” he asks you instead of the person concerned. “So… so you can sit on my face” he adds shyly.

Your eyes soften at his request, as he looks up to you from his position. He looks wrecked already, yelping and grinding lazily against the heath of Felix’s thighs when your fist suddenly grabs his shirt and you pull him back on the mattress.

A thin layer of sweat is covering his neck, and your fingers lace around his neck to keep him steady.

“You ready baby? Excited?" you ask as Jisung’s breathes come out all shaky and fast.

He nods at your words, and you wrap your hand around his cock, starting a lazy rhythm of stroking and coaxing sweet moans from his mouth. You keep going for a minute, until you feel Felix’s chest against your back, his tiny arms wrapping around your waist.

“Can I ride him now, mama? H-hurts,” he sighs against your shirt, “wanna make Sungie feel good. And I’m so empty.”

You turn your face to kiss Felix’s pout out of his lips and you smile. “Go on, Lixie. Make our birthday boy feel how warm you are inside.”

Felix’s mouth wobbles with excitement as he returns the sweet peck on your lips before crawling back and positioning himself on top of Jisung.

“You’re gonna take us at the same time, Sungie. Is that okay?” you ask softly while you mimic Felix’s position on top of him.

“Please” Jisung moans as his hips buck into the air as you scoot over his chest, “please.”

You move until your legs are on either side of his head and you feel Felix taking your boy’s poor cock on his fist to bring it to his entrance.

Jisung groans at the feeling of his engorged tip sliding against Felix’s wet ring of muscles and at the sight of your sopping cunt just in front of his mouth, still out of touch.

“Ready?” you ask to both of them. You can feel your pussy dripping on Jisung’s chin and the moans he lets out are borderline desperate.

As soon as you feel Felix pushing down on Jisung’s cock, you lower yourself on his mouth. He already has his mouth open when you sit on his face, and the sound he makes while his tip breaches into Felix’s heath vibrates on your pussy, making you clench around his lips. The warmth of his tongue is heavenly, and you feel your limbs contracting and releasing soon after. Your hands find the way towards his hair, and you grab them as his tongue lap you at the center of your core.

“Oh my god,” you hear Felix moaning behind your back. Your head turns around just enough to see him already seated on Jisung’s pelvis, his tight balls bobbing over his stomach and tiny cock begging for attention.

“Is Sungie deep, sweetheart?” you ask, acting nonchalantly, but your breathing betrays you as Jisung moans and starts to properly lick you off, his spit and your slick making a mess on his face.

“Deep, mama,” Felix sighs and attempts a faint bounce, “I feel him in my t-tummy” he hiccups as a tear rolls over his cheek.

“Sungie’s cock is good, baby, I know,” you mutter as you start rocking yourself over his tongue. “I think he deserves to cum inside, doesn’t he?”

Jisung keens against your pussy at your words, almost frantic as he sucks your clit into his mouth, letting out the most obscene moans directly on you. The vibrations hit deliciously your core, and with the tip of his nose he manage to scoot a little lower to keep your folds open, his tongue finally finding your entrance and pushing deep into you.

“Fuck, Sungie. Our good boy, best boy. Always so good to us, uh?" you moan as he starts to alternate fat licks to open mouthed kisses to your cunt.

Felix’s uh uh uh behind your back let you know that he started to fuck himself on Jisung’s cock. His little bounces make his body tremble under you.

Jisung keeps pushing his tongue into your warm walls, arousal gushing out of your pussy and covering him up to his chin. His eyes are closed and his face red for the lack of oxygen, but he’d prefer to die than to stop what he’s doing.

You let him have his way for a couple of minutes, enjoying the weight of his pussy on his mouth, and all the pretty sounds he is letting out of his lips. When you feel yourself getting too close, you pull a few strands of his hair, and Jisung detaches his wet lips from you with a loud pop, opening his eyes. When he sees your cunt pulsing out some of his spit, he whines and goes back in, sucking wetly at your core and moaning against your entrance.

“Please, mama, p-please,” he cries, “so good. Lixie’s hole’s good, cunt’s good. ‘m about to - oh” he gulps when Felix’s bounces become faster and desperate, “think ‘m about to cum.”

Your arms reach behind, gripping his hips to help him fuck deeper into Felix, but Jisung is so dazzled that he just sighs into your cunt and push himself into him messily, his pace all trembling and sloppy.

“Lixie, love” you hum at the boy, “Sungie’s cannot hold it anymore. Are you close?”

Felix nods as Jisung’s cock pushed roughly into his rim, in and out, in and out. “Close too, m-mama” he whines.

“Make yourself come, then. Sungie’s stomach will be so pretty all covered with your cum” you allow him.

Felix’s hand wraps around his pink cock as you finish talking, and he tugs at it harshly. Jisung shivers under you and his thrusts begin to falter.

“I’m close as well, baby” you whisper to him, your hips rocking over his tongue, “just suck on me a little and - ah - yes, like this. Fuck.”

Jisung’s lips close around your clit and he starts sucking with a vigor, the tip of his tongue occasionally brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves and sending you electric tingles all through your spine.

Felix is the first to cum, his delicious moans filling the room as he shoots his release on Jisung’s tummy, as predicted, and on the small of your back.

The next one is Jisung, hips stiffing and cock nestled into Felix, a long cry echoing and his tongue moving frantically on you.

And then, seconds after, when Jisung laps one last time on your clit, your orgasm washes over you as well, a gush of your climax covering his blissed face.

As the three of you catch your breath, you feel Jisung giggling under you, and his laugh spreads through his body, making him wriggle.

“Best birthday present ever.”

©️jilixthinker, 2024. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[skyracha]

Hand Kink

[jeongin x f!reader]

MDNI!! (plz i’m begging)

Requested By: @encoredesires

“If not could you do a 9th member!reader x Jeongin being a menace & reader having a hand kink? I’m not sure if yu write smut of not but if so could yu add it? Suck as, finger choking, them fucking & him using his hands a lot? If not, it’s totally fine & I absolutely love you work babe🫶🫶”

If you’d like to make a request, find out how to here :)

POV: Your fellow bandmate jeongin and you get into a deep conversation about a date of urs gone wrong. When it slips about how you wished the guy had done more hand stuff, Jeongin give you your fix.

Content: Cursing, Smut with some plot, F!ngering, Choking, choking on f!ngers, hands galore, mirror shit, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f!recieving), you get the gist

My Library HERE :)

“I don’t get what was so confusing?” You’re sat at the vanity in your dressing room, trying your best to get ready for the concert, but of course Jeongin had to come barge in asking about the date you had last night.

“What do you mean?” You had been indulging him in all the dirty details of last night’s events, per his request.

“Well he and I had talked previously over text about what we were all into and he didn’t do any of the things I mentioned. I obliged to all his kinks!” You whipped around to face Jeongin who sat on the couch behind you. “It was so dissapointing.”

Both you and Jeongin were the Maknae in Stray Kids, so naturally you both became really close and bonded quick when JYP put you in the group.

“What was he into?” Jeongin looked disgusted as if he already knew without you saying a word.

“I don’t even wanna get into it. It’s not like my kinks were that weird? I was really only hoping for my favorite one anyways and I didn’t even get that.” You rolled your eyes and turned back around.

“Do I wanna know what that would be?!” You see him raise his eyebrows behind you in the mirror, leaning to be seen in the reflection.

Sighing and shrugging your shoulders you continue to do the finishing touch ups to your makeup. “Just hand stuff. I have a raging hand kink.”

When he doesn’t respond, you go to look at him to see he’s no longer sitting on your couch but instead behind you. He has both his hands on the back of your chair, staring down into your reflection.

You recognized that look. It wasn’t like you guys hadn’t done nothing together. You shared a few private intimate moments, but nothing past some vanilla pent up stress shit. His dick hasn’t even been inside you yet.

“What’s up innie?” His throat bobbed visibly at the use of your nickname for him. You watched his chest rise a few times before he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You know,” He said slowly, his hands moving to run up and down your upper arms, squeezing once in a while. “As much as I love gossiping about our piss poor dating lives.” His breath tickles against your ear as he keeps eye contact with you in the mirror.

“I hate learning what makes you tick, and knowing it’s not being satisfied.” You feel like you’re going to combust. The stare he’s holding you in right now has heat pouring off of your body. “So why don’t you talk me through what you want these hands to do, huh? Wanna hear you use your words darlin’.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he begins placing oh-so light open mouth kisses along the side of your neck, slowly warming you up, yet leaving you renderless.

“Come on baby, you gotta use those words if you want me to make you feel good before we gotta go on stage.” You swallow hard.

“Just take your hand and treat me like your bitch.”

You grab his right hand and place it around your throat. “Like this?” He says, squeezing lightly at the sides of your throat. The stare is back in the reflection and even though he’s not cutting off your air supply, you feel a tightness in your chest.

“Mhm-“ You get out as his left begins moving the neckline of your shirt down, revealing your supple tits to him. He licks his lips and hums in delight as he uses both hands to grab and squeeze and paw at them.

A moan leaves your throat at the touches, your head falling back to lean against his abdomen. “No no baby, watch me play with you.”

His hand grips your chin to make you face the reflection, to force you to watch as his other hand begins to tweak, twist and pinch at your nipples. Your mouth hangs open at the sight.

The veins in his hands are popping, and the way he so eloquently moves his fingers is such a sight that you felt an orgasm building by visuals alone.

His hand lightly squeezes your chin, “That look good baby?” You nod as you continue to be transfixed on his hands. “Nuh uh-“ He removes all touch from you and you whine. “I need those words from you, the whole time I’m playing with you, using you as a fuck toy, I need you to answer me when I ask you a fucking question okay?”

He lands a harsh slap to your nipple, causing you to arch out of your chair and bite your lip to stifle the moan threatening to breach. “I said when I ask you a fucking question, you answer me.” He wraps a hand in your hair to pull your head back to look up at him directly, the other hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing.

“Yes, yes I’ll answer you.” Your voice came out mangled by the harsh angle of your throat, but a sinister smile plays across his lips as you say it.

“Yes what?”

“Yes sir.” You squeeze out.

“Get on the couch.” He points, and you immediately comply. Then you get an idea.

“Help me move this.” You turn to him, a wild look in your eyes. You both quickly angle the couch so it’s facing the giant wall mirror on the far side of your dressing room. “I wanna see everything.”

“That’s my good girl. Always so smart.” You whimper at the praise, and before you know it, Jeongin has you turned towards the mirror, him standing behind you.

So painfully slow, he removed your shirt fully, the bra coming off with one hand while the other begins on your belt. The sight of him removing items of your clothes with just one hand makes you soak through the underwear you have on.

His hands land on your hips shortly after the thud of your belt hitting the ground sounds out. “Now, you’re gonna have to be quiet. Chan hyung is just next door. We don’t need him catching us do we?”

“No, no we don’t.” You’re panting for air now as you watch his finger dip below the waistline of your bottoms and rip them down to your ankles.

Then, he moves around to the front of you, and pushed you back to sit on the couch. “Open.” He says as he taps your knees.

You do as instructed, and his tongue licks a long stripe up your pussy, causing one of your hands to cover your mouth. The wetness of your arousal mixed with his spit caused an explosion of pleasure to shake your bones as he sucked on your clit and circled his tongue in that oh-so sweet way you loved.

You lean back and close your eyes for a moment until a hand is removing yours and covering your mouth for you. His hand pulls your face down and the sight in the mirror is one you’ll commit to memory.

His large hand covers all of half your face as he silences you. Your hands are now in his hair, his face buried between your thighs. His other hand is squeezing your thigh so deliciously that you’re sure there will be bruises tomorrow.

Oh his hands- you can’t stop staring as he flexes them, the way they sprawl over the parts of you he’s touching, the way they engulf whatever they’re holding by their pure size alone.

You watch, not noticing him now looking up at you, as he moves the hand on your thigh and takes two fingers and collects the slick gathering at your core.

Suddenly you’re head snaps down but he’s already rising. He nods his head to signal you to move. You scooch over, and he takes a seat where you just were, then he drags you to sit on his lap, your glistening cunt visible in the mirror.

One of his hands finds home around your throat again, while the other begins slow circles around your clit. “Now, are you gonna be a good girl and be quiet while I finger you? Can you be obidient and watch without moving?”

“Yes, yes sir.” You choke on the words as he covers your mouth once again, squeezing enough that your jaw will be sore when he lets go.

“Behave now…” He says it so deliciously that the breath of the words cascade down your neck, sending a chill up your spine.

“Fuck-“ He curses as he slips his middle and ring finger in you. “I ate you out and you’re still tight. Squeezing my fingers like the little whore you are.” You whine at the name calling, the sound of it making you even wetter. “Yeah,” he laughs the word. “You like that don’t you.”

He pushes down on your face so you can see his fingers in the mirror as they slowly begin to pump in and out of you. The sight alone causes that beautiful knot to form in the pit of your stomach.

You moan but it’s muffled by Jeongin’s hand. The pleasure building deep in your gut mixed with the haze created by the sight of his ethereal fingers fucking you into oblivion has you nearing that edge quicker than you’d like. “Good girl, but not yet. Keep it in.”

You whine again, your orgasm so close you can grasp it. He laughs in such a low tone his chest rumbles beneath you. “I said, keep. it-“ He shoves his fingers in you all the way to his knuckle harshly, “in.”

You cry out and he does it again, and again. “You like that baby? You get off on the way my hand muscles flex when I fuck you with my fingers hm?” You’re fighting hard not to cum right then and there.

“Let go doll.” Jeongin pushes his fingers all the way in and flexes them to hit your g-spot at such a rapid pace and the dam breaks open inside of you.

Quick to the punch, Jeongin slips his fingers out of you and begins rapidly flicking your clit, causing a muffled scream to rip out of your throat as you squirt all over his hand and (unfortunately) some of the carpet in front of you.

“That’s a good girl, you look so pretty cumming for me when I tell you. I think you deserve a reward.” He removed his hand from your mouth, which is slack jawed inhaling and hungry for air.

It doesn’t take long for him to grab a fistful of your hair and make you face the mirror again after leaning on him in your post-orgasm bliss.

Jeongin shoves his fingers in your mouth with no warning. “Lick up the mess you made and then I’ll fuck you so good with this cock. You feel it? Feel how fucking worked up you got me?” His voice is dripping against your ear as you make eye contact in the mirror again.

He ruts up into your ass and you nearly choke around his fingers at the feel of it. The friction is delicious, and you swirl your tongue around his fingers faster.

You suck and lick until all your arousal is gone from his fingers, but then he thrusts them in and out of your mouth a few times. “I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re choking on these fingers.” His mouth is now hanging open himself, and he shoves his fingers down your throat enough to make you gag.

He groans at the feeling, and does it again. You can feel his hips rutting into you as he repeats the movement over and over.

You’re already pooling in arousal between your legs again, the texture of his muscled and veiny hands on your tongue and in your throat making you close to orgasming for the second time.

And he can tell.

He does it faster when your legs begin to shake and before you know it, you’re seeing stars again. Your whole body shakes and Jeongin removes his fingers from your mouth. “You’re being so good for me, yeah? You think you can take this cock? Only gotta be good for a little while longer baby.”

“Please Jeongin, I need you to fuck me so bad, please.”

He smiles at that and picks you up. He goes behind the couch and bends you over. The only warning you get is the sound of his zipper before he pounds into you at a relentless pace.

You shout at the sudden stretch of him, but his hands are ready for you.

Just like before, one hand wraps around your throat, becoming your new favorite necklace. The other is balled up in your hair, pulling your head back as he fucks into you so hard the whole couch is rocking. “Fuck, you’re squeezing me so good. Fuck-“

“Hm- Jeongin don’t stop!” Not caring anymore about noise, you both are moaning messes. Him from the feeling of your pussy gripping him so tight he’s barely hanging on. You from his hands in the mirror and the way he pushing in so far it feels like he’s bruising your g-spot.

“Fuck!! I’m so close!” You scream it, forgetting where you currently are.

“Cum for me doll.” He thrusts harder and you unravel, causing the hand around your neck to move under your hips to hold you steady as he keeps up his relentless pace.

The other hand leaves your hair to rest on the headrest of the couch. That particular hand keeps flexing with each thrust he makes inside of you while the other is squeezing your hip so hard there’s sure to be a giant red hand print.

“Mmh, fuck keep squeezing.” His grip tightens at your hip as his thrusts become so snappy and hard that your whole body jolts forward with it.

Your body involuntarily squeezes his cock as he rips your fourth orgasm out of you right before he let’s go inside of you.

His whole body shudders as his forehead comes down to rest on your shoulder.

“Stage in 10!” Both of your heads snap up at the sound of Bangchan’s voice as he knocks on the door. “Y/N, can you tell I.N. too while he’s in ya?”

You both go red in the face as you both start giggling.

“We should really clean up.” You say as footsteps recede outside.

“Yeah, but let’s take our time so we can think of what to tell chan hyung after the concert. I don’t feel like a lecture right now.” Jeongin laughs as he buckles his pants back up and hands you your missing clothes.

“Yeah that’s smart. I can see his ‘dad stare’ as we speak. Ughh-“ You cover your face with your hands as you laugh. “What if we scarred him?!”

Jeongin is laughing now too as he helps you back into your top. “I’m pretty sure he has lost the ability to be scarred from years with all of us.”

You quickly fix your makeup and hair while Jeongin does the same. “Thanks for that by the way.” You wink as you put your hand on the doorknob.

“Oh, well it just so happens I have a hand kink too.” He winks back.

You both head to get your mic packs and join the others when Bangchan turns around. “Whoever you want to fuck is your business, but next time try not to leave physical proof, yeah?”

When you go to question him, he throws a scarf at you and you choke on the realization. Jeongin looks at you as you both turn to face each other, realizing he left a ring of fingerprint sized bruises around your neck in a circle.

You quickly throw the scarf around your neck and shake off your laughter as you run out on stage hoping no one notices your new semi-permanent necklace.

[moonlightspencie]

hands that make hell seem cold

Description: Friends to lovers, emphasis on lovers.

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!: porn with almost no plot, p in v, brief mention of a breeding kink

Word Count: 3.2k

link to the spotify playlist

James took a deep breath, looking around his space.

He'd been cleaning all day long. Not really for any reason other than his mates coming over later that night.

He propped his hands on his hips, scrutinizing his own work for a moment.

"Good," he mumbled softly to himself, nodding as he walked back into the kitchen.

He busied himself picking up all the towels he'd used, and set a kettle on the stove for a cup of tea when he finished. He threw the towels in a hamper in the laundry room of his flat, and went back to the kitchen, waiting mindlessly on the kettle to start whistling.

Though, that's when he heard a knock on his door. He frowned a little, not expecting anyone over for another hour or two. He shuffled over to the door, opening it to see an unexpected face.

His smile grew. "Baby!"

"Hi, angel," she smiled back at him, walking past him and into his flat.

He chuckled, shutting the door, then turning to watch her take her shoes off very impatiently. He was practically bouncing by the time she finished and turned to him.

“Okay,” she opened her arms with a laugh, letting him practically tackle her.

He squeezed her into a crushing hug, knocking her off her feet, only protecting her from falling with the intensity of the embrace.

“James,” she chuckled, voice muffled by his chest. “You’re squishing me.”

“Mm,” he hummed absentmindedly, still holding her for a moment. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” she said, then kissed his shoulder once as he loosened his grip. “But you know how things are. I’ve gotta visit home sometimes. My family does like to see me on occasion, you know?”

“I know, love,” he mumbled, kissing her forehead. “But can’t they just come here instead?”

“They do on occasion. But I love being home, even if I still want to be around you more,” she winked.

James giggled, squeezing her again. “You flatter me.”

“I know. That’s kind of the point, Jamie.”

James smiled, his cheeks a little rosy as he looked at her. It had really only been a couple of weeks since she’d been around, but it felt like forever. He’d always had a soft spot for the girl, but it seemed to have intensified in the past months. Sure, they were still friends, but… there was something else there. He just didn’t want to be the first to admit it. Lately, he’d been thinking about it, though.

He sighed softly. “Uh… the boys are supposed to be over tonight.”

“Oh! Well, that’ll be fun. I’ll make sure to head out before they show up, then.” 

“What?” He furrowed his brow in question.

“I’ll… make sure I’m not interrupting–”

“You’re not!” he cut her off, shaking his head.

Her brows raised, a small chuckle leaving her lips. “You sure?”

“‘Course I am! Don’t worry about it,” he smiled, shrugging a little. “Here, let’s go sit. I wanna hear all about your trip.”

He grabbed her hand, practically dragging her behind him to the living room. She shook her head in amusement, letting him pull her along without a hint of resistance until he’d sat them both down with not a centimeter of space between them.

“How were mum and dad?”

“Good, mostly,” she replied, not batting an eye as he slung an arm around her shoulders. “Mom’s been a little under the weather, but it’s nothing she can’t handle. You held down the fort here without me, then?”

“Barely,” he feigned a pout. “Could’ve fallen apart if you were gone one more day.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughed, leaning into him.

“Only ‘cause I love you.”

“Mhm,” she snorted. “You’re hopeless, you know that?”

“Can’t help it.”

“You never can.”

“Yeah,” he grinned, then kissed her forehead again. “God, you got even prettier. What were they feeding you over there?”

“Nothing you’d like, I’m sure.”

He laughed. “Probably not. But seriously, love… wow.”

She snorted a laugh, looking at him curiously. “When did you become such a flirt?”

“Please, you love it,” he chuckled, then shot her a sideways glance. “You love it, right?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good,” he breathed out, then straightened up as a terrible whistling came from the kitchen. “Shit.”

She laughed as he shot up and hustled into the kitchen, following after him and watching as he grabbed his oven mit to take the kettle off the stovetop. She leaned against the doorframe, smiling to herself as he quickly pulled down two mugs and tea bags, preparing them both. He always put the tiniest bit too much sugar in hers, but she’d never complain to him. She accepted gratefully as he put a mug in her hand.

“There you are,” he muttered, then leaned against the counter. “Almost forgot that was on the stove.”

“Almost? James, you jumped up and practically ran in here.”

“...Shut up,” he hid a smile behind his mug, trying to take a sip before quickly moving away from the steam. “Hot.”

“Yeah, you are,” she muttered, barely thinking about it as it passed her lips.

His cheeks turned pink again. “You’re bound and determined to make me blush, aren’t you?”

“You’re cute when you blush,” she grinned, poking one of his cheeks. “You know I like to tease you.”

“Yeah, I know,” he rolled his eyes in response, but there was no malice behind it. He sighed softly, then let his eyes wander back to her. “Seriously, how did you get hotter?”

“Oh, and I’m the one trying to make you blush, huh?”

He giggled again. “Maybe we’re both guilty.”

She hid a smirk, shaking her head at him again. She glanced down at her still-steaming mug, then back at his face. His wide eyes and his lip pulled between his teeth. She had decided that it was incredibly annoying how attractive he was. 

“James?”

“Yeah, love?” he responded immediately, his eyes widening in question.

She smiled again, unable to stop herself this time. “God, you’re fucking annoying. I say that with love.”

“Annoying?”

“You’re annoyingly hot.”

He looked away, his cheeks only warming further. He set his mug on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. A move that she thought was very distracting.

“Can I ask you a question, love?” he asked after a beat.

“Of course.”

He glanced at her again. “Well… what do you think of me?”

“Huh?”

“Like… duh, we’re friends. But… like..”

“Like…?”

“Do you think we’d be, like… good together?”

She quirked a brow. “As in…?”

He groaned. “Like us. Together.”

“You mean like… together?”

“Duh.”

“I mean– Well, I haven’t… I can’t say that I’ve never thought about it,” she admitted quietly.

He sighed softly, looking at her carefully for a few moments. She looked right back, unsure what to do next after that. He wasn’t quite sure either, turning over that information in his head. She set her mug next to his on the counter, not wanting to hold it if they were going to keep standing there having that kind of conversation. He watched her as she moved closer to set her tea down, feeling a little restless as her perfume wafted up to him in a wave.

“Fuck it,” he huffed out, moving to put his hands on her cheeks, crashing his lips into hers. 

Usually, he might not be so forward. But she was so fucking tempting, it was almost a crime to not kiss her at this point. And it felt good.

She froze up at first, a bit shocked that he’d gone and kissed her. Though, it didn’t take long before she gained her senses again and kissed him back like she was born to do it. He moaned into the kiss, nipping at her lip, pulling her flush against his body with his arms wrapped around her waist.

“James…” she mumbled against him, not really for any reason other than to feel his name on her lips.

He kissed along her cheek and jaw, mumbling in her ear, “I really missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” she breathed out.

He groaned, biting her neck gently before sucking on the skin. He attached himself there until he’d left a dark mark, determined to make her remember how it felt to kiss him.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for ages,” he muttered, kissing all the way back up her neck.

“Really?”

“Yeah…” he kissed her lips again, then pulled back to look at her face. “I think… maybe for a year, now. You’re just… you know I’ve always thought you were hot.”

“I didn’t know you wanted to fuck me,” she laughed.

“Who said I did?”

She scoffed, her mouth dropping open. “You dick!”

He giggled. “Couldn’t help it. But… I definitely do. Really bad.”

She hummed, glancing down at his lips again. “So… a year, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“When did that start?”

He smirked. “When I realized my best friend was insanely hot and I was crazy to not want more. But… Well, the day we all went to the beach and I saw you in that itty bitty bikini definitely helped.”

“You perv,” she laughed, smacking his arm lightly.

“I already love your personality, what else was I supposed to say?” he defended himself with a chuckle.

“Whatever,” she snorted, pulling him back in and kissing him, much more softly this time.

He sighed against her lips, happy to finally know what she felt like in this way. He let his mouth open for her as she slid her tongue against his bottom lip, groaning into the kiss as he felt her tongue against his. He followed her lead for a moment before taking control of the kiss, backing her against the kitchen counter.

Her lower back hit the counter, and she smiled against his lips, letting him push her onto the counter. He stood between her legs, letting his hands travel up her thighs.

“What, are you gonna fuck me in the kitchen? Not super romantic, James,” she laughed.

“Mm. I’d take you anywhere. We’ll have time for romance later,” he replied easily, kissing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone.

His hands slid under her shirt, feeling her stomach. “God, you’re perfect.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I mean it,” he asserted, pushing her top up and off of her, letting it drop to the floor. He took her in with a dreamy sigh. “Wow.”

She smiled. “It’s not that special.”

“Says you,” he glanced at her, scrunching up his face in distaste at her blase attitude about her body. His hands wandered over her skin, feeling her tummy, her ribs, her breasts. “You’re a damn angel, love.”

“You’re sweet.”

He hummed, tugging off his own shirt before going back to just feeling her. After a few moments, he couldn’t handle not seeing more of her. He let his hands wander again, reaching around her back to pull off that pesky bra. He let that drop onto the slowly growing pile of clothes on the ground. He reached up again, experimentally squeezing her breasts, feeling himself grow painfully hard against his jeans.

“See? This is all I could think about when you were in that stupid, gorgeous bikini of yours, love. And I was right. You’re incredible underneath it all,” he mumbled, locked in on feeling her chest. 

His mouth watered at the sight of her, topless on his kitchen counter. His pretty best friend perched up there just for him to see and feel. He started kissing down her chest, stopping at one of her nipples, his tongue swirling around the swollen bud before he sucked it gently into his mouth.

She let out a small, breathy sound as she watched him with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure from sucking on her. He looked so pretty and desperate like that. She ran a hand up his arm, tangling her hand in his hair. 

“God, you’re eager,” she breathed out, a small laugh passing her lips.

“You’re fucking sexy’s why,” he mumbled against her skin, moving his lips to the other breast.

She sighed, her eyes fluttering shut from pleasure as he kissed and sucked at her tits, gently groping one with his hand as his mouth worked over the other. He slowly started moving his lips down, kissing along her ribs and stomach.

“You’d look real pretty pregnant, you know? I’ve thought about that a few times,” he mumbled, nipping the skin of her stomach.

“James…” she groaned.

“Sorry love. Can’t help myself,” he apologized, though they both knew he didn’t mean it. “Just wanna make you mine, ya’ know? Plus, we’d have pretty babies.”

He smiled again as another sound left her lips, his hands working to tug off her pants. He pulled them down her legs, kissing back up her leg once he’d dropped the pants on the floor.

“As much as I’d love to taste you, doll, I think that might have to wait. If I start, I won't be able to stop,” he said softly, kissing up her thigh. “You even smell perfect.”

“God, James. You’re such a slut,” she smirked a little.

“Only for you, baby,” he said, his dimple poking in his cheek as he stood straight.

He cradled her head in his hands, looking over her face for a moment before he leaned in to kiss her again, his lips moving soft and slow over hers. She held onto his biceps as he kissed her, feeling them move and flex under her palms as he dropped his hands to start pulling off her panties. He did it slowly, teasingly, until he’d pulled them off her legs entirely, letting them fall to the ground. He pulled back from the kiss, looking over her bare body.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered, eyes trailing over her. “Pretty girl. I love you.”

She smiled. “I love you, too, Jamie.”

He kissed her again through a grin. “You’re the best friend ever, too. For the record.”

“I better be after this,” she laughed.

He chuckled along with her, pulling his pants and boxers down in one go. She let out a small noise of satisfaction, seeing him all naked and beautiful.

“God damn, James. No wonder the girls like you so much.”

He giggled at that. “I always thought it was my personality.”

“Sure,” she teased, pulling him in for another kiss.

He groaned into it, his hands wandering up and down over her body, feeling her soft curves under his skin. He let one of his hands reach down, slowly stroking his leaky cock, stepping closer to the apex of her thighs. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered against her lips.

“Yeah. Please,” she nodded, breathing him in.

He shuddered, dragging himself along her slit before pressing at her entrance. He whined softly, barely pushing in.

“God…” he breathed out desperately, pressing his forehead against hers. He moaned softly, pulling a similar sound from her lips as he pushed into her, letting her heat envelop him. “You feel so good, love.”

“Yeah,” she groaned, her arms around his shoulders.

He pushed himself in all the way, a soft needy sound coming from him as he stilled for a moment before pulling out and repeating that motion slowly. They breathed each others’ air as James pushed his hips into hers slowly, almost teasingly, getting used to how she felt around him. He’d dreamed of fucking her a million times before, but there was nothing that could prepare him for how she really felt.

She dropped her head in his neck, feeling impossibly full. He wasn’t the biggest she’d ever seen in her life, but fuck if he didn’t feel like it. Not to mention the fact that his cock was gorgeous, and the mere thought of it dragging in and out of her had her feeling dizzy.

“Fuck, love,” he moaned, suddenly pulling her off the counter. “I need more.”

She chuckled breathily, though she whined softly as he pulled out.

“Wha–”

“Shhh…” he shook his head, spinning her around and bending her over the kitchen counter.

She let out a shuddering breath, a grin on her face as her breasts hit the cold counter, his hand pressing down on her lower back. He pushed back into her immediately with an animalistic grunt, picking up the pace immediately.

“You’re perfect,” he grit out, gripping her hips with one hand, pushing down on her back with the other. “Feel so perfect around me, baby.”

“Yes,” she moaned, her voice broken and needy as she pressed her hands against the counter, unable to do anything else.

He pounded into her, her hips hitting the edge of the counter with every thrust. Usually, he’d care much more about her safety and comfort, but he couldn’t bring himself to care with the sweet sounds she made for him every time his hips snapped against her ass. 

“James,” she said, her voice whiny.

“Yeah, babe?”

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum.”

“Already?” he smirked, pounding into her harder.

She merely moaned in response, her eyes fluttering shut again as he moved one of his hands around her neck. He didn’t put any pressure on her, but it forced her to arch her back more, letting him hit a slightly different angle.

“God, Jamie…” she whimpered, her body suddenly convulsing, pulsing around him without warning.

He groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fucked her through it, loving the way she felt squeezing him like that. 

“Shit, baby,” he said through a gasp, his hips beginning to stutter in their movements.

He let her drop against the counter again, gripping onto her hips with both hands, pulling her back against him with every thrust. He lost himself in pleasure, pushing himself into her with vigor until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled out of her cunt, using his hand to stroke himself a few times before he was finishing on her ass, watching thick ropes of his cum cover her skin. He barely held himself upright as he watched it happen, breathing heavy from the effort until he was completely spent.

He braced himself on the counter with both hands. “Fuck, baby.”

She laughed softly through a whimper. “Y-yeah. Fuck.”

“You’re… God damn, love. You’re perfect,” he smiled to himself, catching his breath as he looked down at her body again. “Never thought I’d get to see you like this. All covered in my cum.”

“Yeah,” she breathed out, chuckling quietly. “But… maybe get me a towel? It’s starting to get cold.”

“Gross,” he snorted a laugh, moving to get a towel from one of the cabinets in the kitchen, dampening it with warm water. “Good thing we’re in the kitchen. Easy to clean up.”

“I guess,” she laughed as he wiped her clean of his seed. “Maybe next time you can just cum in me.”

He paused, his eyes widening. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” she nodded easily.

“Shit, you’re sexy,” he mumbled, finishing cleaning her off. “Okay, love. All clean.”

“Thanks,” she said, standing straight.

They looked at one another for a moment, both quite satisfied with what they’d done, before she started picking up her clothes.

“So… the boys will be here soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he answered, laughing a little at her switch in topic. “Yeah, they will.”

“How long?”

He shrugged. “Maybe an hour.”

She nodded, pulling on her panties. “How long are they staying?”

“Until dinner time, I suppose.”

“Cool…” she nodded with feigned nonchalance.

He smiled a bit, looking at her with a raised brow. “What have you got planned?”

“With you? Everything,” she smirked.