#I was gonna day ‘he knew what he was doing with his hands’ then I gave up SO FAST

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have your fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he pulls his shorts off and you start to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. you’re gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel-hah-taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you on his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance and making you jolt at the feeling. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away. he kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant, it’s salty and sloppy but it distracts you enough. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and he bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him. every thrust sends your whole body upwards but his grip on you keeps you close, he’s almost fucking you back onto him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.” rafe moans your name at your request, his voice sounds so wrecked you clench down at the sound alone.

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. although he wants to tease you he can’t hold back much longer either and it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. your head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, your cunt is milking him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time to come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft skin. the white contrasts the blue and purple that is starting to bloom around your neck and tits.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[kissforyouu]

i love you — a compilation !

warnings : suggestive content + explicit language + mention of substances

authors note : i had so much fun writing the Roblox part lmfao (from personal experience unfortunately😅😅) I hope y’all enjoy the rest of the fic :)) HAPPY V DAY MY LOVES!!!! ❤️❤️

｡𖦹°‧⭑.ᐟ giving him a note saying “don’t smile if you want toe curling sucky sucky tonight”

You excitedly giggle over the folded piece of paper held in between your fingers, thinking to yourself of what your boyfriends reaction would be.

You saw people on TikTok do this trend, and here you thought, yeah why not try this on Jungkook. You were gonna give him sucky sucky anyways^^

“Get back in bed…”, Jungkook groans from his room, patting your side of his bed. Your back is turned to him and bent over as you write the little text on the paper. “Nevermind, stay there bent over and you’re getting instant backshots, okay?” He laughs.

You snort, turning around now. You don’t say anything, stay fully silent, but walk towards him.

“Mmf, finally.” Your boyfriend sighs in pleasure from just having you close to him. He blinks rapidly, breathing heavily. You’d be lying if you said he wasn’t geeking a little right now, having already smoked some weed earlier. So he was a little a high, perfect setting for the little bomb you’re gonna drop on him.

You don’t speak, but hand over the neatly folded piece of paper to him. Jungkook looks at you confused, eyebrow raising a little. He adjusts himself on the bed, sitting up to read it. You try holding in your laugh.

Jungkook, high, tries to read the text on the paper. He giggles, reading out loud, “If…you want…toe curling?” He looks at you with a smirk “—sucky sucky? …tonight, don’t…smile…”

He smiles, what I had written not registering in his head yet. He takes a few seconds to process it, and suddenly, his big giddy smile drops. Jungkook’s entire body turns stiff and he straightens himself. He clearly his throat, eyes landing somewhere else in the room.

He sucks in his cheeks, attempting to make a serious face.

“My love, you look like handsome squidward when you do that”, you giggle, holding his face by both of your hands.

Jungkook cracks out a laugh, immediately breaking his composure. It wasn’t even that funny, but he’d always find everything funny when he’s high. He giggles his way through, crumbling the piece of paper in his hand.

“Be for real, that was not funny”, you laugh at the geeked out man in front of you. “You lost the game though. You’re laughing.”

Suddenly, Jungkook stiffens his posture and clears his voice. He’s back to acting serious again, which made you slap his face jokingly.

“You’ve lost already!” But he shakes his head in deny. “Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Nuh U”— you shut him up with a kiss.

“I’ll still give you sucky sucky because you’re my good boy, okay?” You palm his hard on through his boxers.

“Hey, I’m the dominant here!”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ JK getting mad at his girlfriend whenever she buys things with her own money.

“I missed your cute ass room.” He said with a beaming smile on his face.

“You were here last week, idiot.” You slap the back of his head.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.”

“I miss you even when you’re with me, I miss you always, you know that.”

“Corny.” You laugh at him.

“I know you like that shit.” Jungkook pokes your waist, then a small kiss on your shoulder.

He examines your room as if he’s never been there. But then, pauses.

“Where’d you get this from?,” he walks over to your newly bought expensive white fur caught hanging in your closet.

Jungkook had almost each and every single clothing piece of yours memorised. Mainly because he’s bought almost all of them for you. But this one, certainly, he did not buy.

“Uhh, the store…” you bite your lip.

“What store?”

“Heh.” You knew where he was as going with this.

“Heh? Yeah? What store?” He questions again.

“‘Kay, I’m sorry.” You frown.

“I hate when you don’t use my card. I’ve given you my BLACK card, Y/n. You really can buy anything, big or small. Don’t piss me off.” His eyebrows are furrowed as he leans against your wall, staring at you with a big mean glare. You felt like a child being scolded for taking candy.

“I’ve told you about this already—“

“And I’ve told you about this already too.” He cuts you off. “My card is yours, your card is yours, okay?” He examines my face for expressions of defeat, acceptance. But finds none.

“I don’t want to spend your family’s hard earned money. And yours. It just doesn’t feel right. Plus, what am I going to spend my own money on?” Jungkook rolls his eyes at your question, probably finding it utterly stupid and insane. Who wouldn’t accept free money? You, you wouldn’t.

“Don’t give a fuck. Use my card from now on or I’ll get your card disabled.” He shrugs it off and walks out of your room.

What! WHAT!

“What do you mean you’ll disable my card?!”, you shout, “Jungkook!! Stop!! What the fuck!!” You scream.

꩜ .ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ Secretly recording Jungkook who loves to get baby talked

You scroll on your phone absentmindly (lies), while secretly keeping an eye on your boyfriend. His head rests between your thighs, laying there comfortably as he enjoyed whatever anime on the tv.

You think of how you’re going to secretly set up your phone and record him. Hm. Biting your lip, concentrated, you hide the phone behind your pillow and made sure that the camera would be peaking out.

Okay, perfect.

You start by slowly caressing his hair, running your fingers down his locks and massaging his scalp. You made sure to scratch his scalp with your new set of nails, which he paid for. You know he likes that. Like, a lot.

Jungkook moans, his head’s weight fully dropped down to your thigh. You hum back, hands now moving from his scalp to his face. You trace his cheekbones, his nose, his eyebrows, his lips—you even teasingly put a finger in.

Sometimes, you remember he’s your boyfriend and that you could touch him however you wanted and that makes you the happiest girl in the world.

You go on to trace his eyes, his eyelashes then ears. Jungkook hums in relaxation, giving his full body control to you. He looooves when you did this. You go on to pull on his cheeks a couple times, and then ;

“Come up.” You tap his head with the tip of your nail.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything back, but raises himself up from the position below and turns around to lay in between your arms.

Let the fun begin, heh.

“I love you.” You tell him, with a wet kiss on his cheek.

He flashes his boyish smile at you, eyes fully locked on yours as he traced your lips, “I love you more, baby.”

“But you’re my baby.” You soften your voice a little bit, squeezing his nose teasingly. “No, you are.” He argues back. “No, wrong, you’re my baby.” Jungkook cracks a smile again, a small giggle escaping his lips, “Fine. I am.” He finally surrenders.

You squeal, beginning to place kisses all over his sweet face. Lips, nose, cheeks—everywhere. You shut his eyes, just so you could kiss his eyelids.

“I love you so much, my little baby.”

Jungkook groans into your neck, overwhelmed with all the affection as his cheeks took a sudden colour to red.

“Awh, you’re blushing! Who’s making you blush, hm?” You squeeze his cheeks really hard. I know that hurts.

“Ywu.” He manages to say one word.

“What’s my name?”

“Y/n—mmph”

“No. That’s not my name.”

“Mwomwy.”

Wait, LMAO— you weren’t expecting him to call you that right away. You thought it would have to take a lot of convincing, I guess not.

You kiss his glossy lips as a reward, finally letting go of his cheeks. You suffocate the man from hugging him really really tight, chest pressed right to his face. I don’t think he’s having a bad time though. His face was right on your boobs, fully dived in.

“Baby, you’re making me feel less of a man”, he says on a serious note, hands travelling down to rest on top of your booty shorts.

“It’s okay, nobody’s gonna know anyway. They don’t have to know that you’re my babyboy.”

“Stop.” He groans, arms how fully around your waist as he avoids eye contact. He’s shy.

“My baby star candy.” You kiss his hair again. “Look up to me, baby.” You tap his face, raising his chin up. Jungkook hums, making eye contact with you now.

“Who’s mommy’s good boy?”

You are trying so hard not to laugh. It’s so hard. Fuck. You stiffen your face, take in a big gulp and stay still. Jungkook looks at you weird, almost like he’s going to call you weird, but then, he just lets out a big massive gigantic groan and says—

“Uugghhh, me.”

You could see the visible disgust in his face, but also you could tell that he kind of liked it. LMAO. You can’t hold it in anymore, so you burst out laughing. You laugh so much you have to hold your stomach in.

“Yeah, you like that?”

“Maybe—HEY WHAT THE FUCK!”

The idiot finally spots the camera hiding behind the pillow, screaming as he jumps off your body. You can’t stop laughing. You’re still laughing. Holy shit. You hold your stomach tighter, trying to breath.

“Haa—haaa, fuck, I can’t breath, AHAHAHAHA”

Jungkook screams too, grabbing the phone. He clears his voice before speaking.

“What the actual fuck, Y/n? What the fuck?” He stops the recording and throws the phone away. “Not funny.”

You’re still laughing, eyes closed tight with a big smile on your face. Jungkook thinks you look the prettiest like this.

“Never do that ever again. You are also not posting that anywhere.” He says with a stern voice.

“Okay, but you were into it, right?” You wiggle your eyebrows.

“…maybe.”

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 “you’re spinning me around, my feet are off the ground!^^”

You shiver because of the extreme weather (it’s just snowing), hands tightly wrapped around yourself as you squeeze yourself into your boyfriend’s body.

“It’s cold.” You’re shivering.

You tug onto your skirt—yes, skirt in the damn cold—and pull it down to cover your thighs as if it’s going to do anything.

“No shit”, your boyfriend laughs, warm hands rubbing your waist under your shirt. But his hands leave you for a brief moment and sneaks under your skirt and hooks his fingers onto your underwear right on your asscheeks and pulls the stretchy material down. You shriek, hitting his stomach as a reaction.

“This barely covers your ass. Why are you wearing a shortass-barely-a-skirt-skirt in winter? You dumbfuck.” He flicks your forehead.

“It’s for the fashion, Jungkook. At least I look good.” You huff.

“Yeah, sure, you look good but you’re freezing your ass off in this snow. I even feel bad to throw snowballs at you because you’re shivering already.” He squeezes the back of your thighs that were cold as fuck, like meat put in the freezer.

“Let’s do the thing now! The video!” You remind Jungkook, hitting on his chest as a signal.

He nods his head with a groan, placing your phone on the car so that it stands up right.

“What do I do again?” He looks at you with a slightly nervous lip bite.

“Follow the lyrics and then pick me up when it says my feet are off the ground, okay?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You giggle and press the little red button—record—so that the video would start playing.

“ you’re spinning me around ”

Jungkook giggles, pulling you to him by your waist so that your body would smash against his. He grabs your other hand, intertwining it with his and his other hand on your hip, yours on his shoulder, he dances with you, spinning you around along with him.

“ my feet are off the ground ”

With a laugh, his face fully scrunched up, the beautiful man whom you’re in love with hooks his strong arms under your thighs and lifts you up, completely effortlessly. You squeak, feet wiggling and hanging while your upper body clinged to his. You smile at the camera, face heating up fully.

“ I don’t know where I stand

do you have to hold my hand ? ”

He puts you down quickly, hand patting the top of your ass as a way of saying “good job”. You stand next to him with a big smile as the lyric plays. Then he holds your hand really tightly, swinging it back and forth to great lengths.

“ you mystify me

you mystify me

you mystify me ”

As the lyric switches, he pulls you in again and kisses you, hard. Lips smacking against eachother, he pulls you into a deep kiss full of love and passion. At the second mystify me, Jungkook bends you back by your back, deepening the kiss. He put his hand on his cheek, thumb on your jaw as he lifts his face up to kiss you even deeper. By the last mystify me, Jungkook pulls back, a string of saliva connecting your lips together still.

Your cheeks were flushed red, quite literally, and so were his. His lips were glossy and his eyes twinkled like stars. There was a big cheesy smile on your face, you felt like a child who’s just had her first kiss ever. You love him so much.

You shyly take steps forward to stop recording the video on his phone. Jungkook looks at you, proud, because he’s just made his girl shy again.

“Shy? What? Like you weren’t sucking my balls off last night?”

Why does he have to ruin everything.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ calling him “daddy” as a prank (right in front of your dad)

It took a while for Jungkook to earn your father’s trust. He had to work for it. Bring you home on time, show up and talk to him, engage with the rest of your family—he had to learn to express his love for you really loud in front of your family. Once he fully gained your father’s trust, he was automatically invited to every event your family hosted.

And, that’s no different from right now. Your family was hosting a barbecue. A lot of your family was there, your cousins, uncles and aunts, almost everyone. It was always fun to spend moments together as family. Jungkook was practically family at this point :).

; Which was perfect! For your prank! Of course!

As of now, you were waiting for your boyfriend and dad to end up in the same place.

You were in your kitchen, snacking on some strawberries while being a little bent over on the kitchen isle. Without getting noticed, your boyfriend slithers behind you and creeps his dirty hands up your dress to squeeze your ass cheeks hard. What the fuck! You scream!

“Ack! Jungkook, you scared me!” You whine.

He snickers, places kissing on your shoulder blade while his hands made their way around your waist. “Mmhhhm,” he inhales in the scent of your perfume, letting his full body weight fall onto yours. You ruffle his hair and feed him a strawberry. Jungkook watches the way the juice of the fruit falls onto your neck, so he just lols his tongue out to lick it off, with a smirk of course.

“No, they’ll see.” You warn him.

“Mhm, no.” He murmurs into your neck. His voice was almost inaudible, just audible enough for you to hear it. It was so small and breathy, so needy.

Jungkook breaths into your neck, still kissing you there, leaving light wet pecks on your flesh. “You’re going to get us caught, mh, Jungkook.”

He shakes away your thoughts, fingertips moving lower and lifting up your dress. He taps your clothed clit with the back of his fingers, sending a shiver down your spine.

“No, not in public,” you place your hand on top of his, but don’t move it, and let him do whatever. Jungkook chuckles at your submission, which he expected, of course. But just as he was about to put his hand inside, your little sister screams as she runs into the kitchen.

You both flinch, terrified, screaming! Jungkook withdraws his hand back, covering his actions by just coughing really loud as if he was trying to scratch his throat.

“I want strawberries!” She shouts.

“Yeah, baby? Okay, wait.” You begin cutting up some strawberries for her. In the meantime, your father enters the room, suspiciously eyeing you and Jungkook.

“Daddy, sissy is cutting me strawberries.”

Your dad nods in approval, lifting up your sister and placing her on the kitchen isle.

Now, you never used the nickname “daddy” as much in the bedroom. But whenever you did, Jungkook would be obsessed. He’d beg you to call him that again frequently, but you never did, often finding it ‘cringe’ and ‘weird’. Therefore, you weren’t quite sure whether he would follow the command or not. But heh, worth the try.

“Daddy, can you grab me a bowl?”

In instinct, your father turns around to grab a bowl from the cupboards. But another thing catches his attention, it’s how Jungkook’s reaching for the exact same bowl he was reaching for. They both pause in the moment, looking at eachother’s faces with absolute horror plastered across theirs.

“What the fuck—” your dad exclaims before your sister cuts him off, “—daddy, bad word!”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He apologises to your sister, swatting Jungkook’s hand away as he grabs the bowl and places it in front of you.

He’s glaring at the two of you as of now. Jungkook is left flustered, and startled, and sort of angry in a way because he knew you planned this. He darts his eyes at you very sharply.

You give him a small smile. Jungkook tries to escape the situation by walking away, but—

“Jungkook, stay.”

Oh fuck.

Your dad was always a strict man. He wasn’t a crazy type strict, but still very much protective over his daughters.

Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, you just knew you were going to receive a good scolding from Jungkook later.

Your sister finally walks away, munching on her sweet strawberries. Your father, however, taps his fingers on the table, looking between both of you. You’re both silent, like 2 children having caught doing something really sneaky.

“I’m going to pretend like I didn’t hear and witness that.” He darts his eyes at Jungkook.

“Secondly, I hope you are using protection.”

Then he just leaves.

Fuck, you are so embarrassed. You look at Jungkook with a small smile, while he gives you a death glare.

The thing is, dad, we are not using protection either. #rawnextquestion.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮 ༘⋆ ִ ₊⊹ dream blunt rotation

You sigh, watching your boyfriend roll another blunt. You observe each and every one of his moments carefully. The way he rolls his filter paper, the way he licks the end of the paper to seal it all together. He did it so precisely. He always did. Your boyfriend was, like, the master blunt roller. You in the other hand could never master it. He always rolled your blunts for you.

Jungkook taps the almost completely rolled blunt on the table about 10 times so that all the weed would be inside the rolled paper, then fills it to the top with a bit more weed.

“Hm.” He hands the blunt over to you, “you want me to roll more, baby?”

You shake your head, “this is enough.”

You light up the blunt with—heh, your super cute hello kitty lighter which, by the way, Jungkook decorated for you. Yeah, he bought all the little charms and decorated the lighter for you. You’re in love with this man.

You light the end of the blunt, and put the other side in your mouth to take a small inhale. You exhale the air out, snuggling into your boyfriend’s couch. You were staying over at his place, no way in hell would you smoke at yours. Only in your room, that too if your parents weren’t home. Jungkook’s parents didn’t care. They knew he did all sorts of things. They didn’t really care as long as he did his academics well, which he did.

Jungkook takes an inhale out of his joint, head thrown back as he sighs, eyes closed. Suddenly, he starts giggling.

“What?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

“I love you so much. I get emotional when I’m smoking, I don’t fucking know why, but I love you, you know that.” His cheeks take a shade of light pink.

You’re cheeeeeeezzzziiinnnnggggg. There’s a small giggle out of you, and you scoot closer to kiss his cheek and drag a smoke out of your joint as well.

“I love you more, you know that too. And you’re forever going to be my blunt roller slash plug.” You laugh.

“Jesus, I should start making you pay.”

“That’s so odd for you to say.”

Jungkook laughs, agreeing.

“Jungkook?”

He hums, taking an inhale.

“What’s your dream blunt rotation?” You ask, taking another hint.

“Dream what?” Jungkook laughs, finding the question absolutely ridiculous.

“Like, if you could share your shit with anyone, who? Like, a group of people, mhm?”

He laughs again and grabs your hand that was placed on your thigh and kisses the back of it, “you. Why would I wanna be smoking with anyone else besides you?”

“You smoke with your friends.”

“Well, yeah”—he groans, “but like, you’re my dream, you know? You’re my…dream blunt rotation? Whatever you call it.” He declares his love for you again in rather a more romantic way.

“I’m your dream?,” you giggle, lashes batting. Now it’s your turn to kiss the back of his hand. You stare at your boyfriends big doe eyes as he hummed in response. You take another hit of the joint, keeping the smoke still in your mouth, and pull him into your body. You kiss Jungkook with passion, your saliva mingling together as the smoke transfers down to his mouth. Your boyfriend groans and breaks the kiss to inhale and exhale the smoke.

Both of you were starting to sweat despite the A/C, and the weed was starting to take a toll on you as well. You take another inhale, eyes batting to shut down. “Oh my god,” you moan, head falling against Jungkook’s shoulder.

“What’s your dream blunt rotation?” He asks back.

“Well,” you begin, “Robert Pattinson, Lee Jong-suk, Woo Do-Hwah—”

“Actually shut the fuck up.” Jungkook shuts you up with a harsh slap to your thigh, making you wince, followed by a giggle.

“‘Kay, sorry. They’re hot though.”

“What about me?” There’s a big fat pout on his face.

“You’re hotter, you’re my husband.” You give him a big fat smile, and a big fat wet kiss on his forehead.

“I think I’m hard.”

And you look down and see a big fat monster tent staring right back at you.

❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Roblox with your boyfriend / headcannons

Jungkook never played Roblox until you forced him to do so. He first laughed at you and called you childish for still playing Roblox, fast forward sometimes he begs you to play it with him.

You got into Roblox through your little sister Evie of course. She’d always ask you to play dress to impress with her, and who are you to say no? That’s when you felt like dragging Jungkook into this.

He would always supply you an endless amount of robux. You and Evie, of course. His account however would only have like 5 robux left, whilst yours was like 10k all the time. You had access to his Roblox account, so you’d randomly log into his account and change his avatar a bit here and there.

He also only had two friends on Roblox, that would be you and Evie. For some reason, he had a bunch of followers on Roblox. He always wondered why, since he never even played like that. You had about 200 friends on roblox though. And like a bunch of followers. LOL.

Moving onto the games you play, it ranges from cute girly games to horror games. Most of the time, it’s always dress to impress. Jungkook would always call it boring but also yell whenever he doesn’t place.

You’d play arsenal, mm2, doors, mocker, dead silence, hello kitty café, royale high—likewise.

Also, don’t tell anyone, but sometimes whenever you guys are hanging out, you’d ask him “hey, wanna have e sex?” and go on LifeTogether on Roblox and do it there for shits and giggles. You always found it funny, and he just did whatever would make his girlfriend happy. happy wife = happy life. Oh, and of course you have real sex after^^.

Everytime another headless gets deleted, Jungkook would just spend like 800 robux to buy you another. He’s so cute, you love him so much.

You and Jungkook would have cute matching Roblox fits. His would be all pink and cute, he didn’t care since it was Roblox. You guys would deffo get labelled as a “corny Roblox couple” LOL.

Jungkook’s favourite game though, as corny as it sounds, unfortunately, is dahood💔. You hate that game passionately from the bottom of your soul but he loves it. He logs in and starts fights with randos. Sometimes he would kill you and carry you around the place. He’s done some cute things though. Like once, he planted dahood flowers all over the place and wrote ‘I love you’ on the wall using dahood graffiti.

outfit inspo 4 u guys + dti sneak peak :

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ^ྀི the topic of kids !

“Jungkook?” You ask your boyfriend, who just hums at you. He’s sleepy.

“You ever think of kids?” Your voice is sleepy as you sleep.

There’s a long pause before he speaks again, “with you? Yeah, all the time. Why do you ask?”

It feels nice. It feels really nice to know that he feels the same way about you. He also wants to have children with you. Not now, for sure, but one day.

“I fantasise about our future a lot. You’re not going to leave me, are you? I’ll make chop suey out of your dick and feed it to the sharks if you do.” You threaten him, followed by a yawn. Jungkook just laughs, the sound of his soft laugh echoing from one year to another. You love the sound of it. So, so, so incredibly much.

“You’d have to kill me to make me leave you, my beautiful baby Y/n. Even so, I’d come haunt you as a ghost. ‘M never leaving you alone.”

“You’re gonna make me cry.” You say as your fingers fondle with the gold chain around his neck. “How many kids do you want?”

“Hmm,” he thinks for a moment, “how many does mommy want? I’d like to have as many as you’d want to pop out” ; he ends his sentence with a laugh.

“Mommy wants at least 3.”

He nods, hand patting the crown of your head. “‘Kay, daddy agrees too.”

“You think…I’ll be a good mom?” Your words are a tad bit slurred as the drowsiness is getting to you really bad, but you still ask your question.

“Is that a question? You’re the most patient person I know. You’re the most genuine and kindest person I’ve ever met. Sometimes I don’t understand why you’re still with me because I can be such an asshole sometimes. You’re like, the angel that I was blessed with. You’re the light to my life, the sun to my moon, I don’t know brah”—he pauses and holds you tighter and murmurs, “you know how I feel about you,” into your neck.

You giggle, your grip tightening around your plushy as you blushed. “What are you? A poet?”

“For you, yeah.”

“You’re making me horny. Let’s make a football team.”

[girlbeatings]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby who you hooked up with during your experimental phase in college, giving you for sure the best orgasm of your comphet life, and yet you still fall for a douchbag guy that doesn't treat you as well as you thought he would. poor thing.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby that helps you get ready for your wedding with said douchbag, forcing a smile and making sure you looked the part of a future lobotomised, white picket fence house wife. she felt bad for you, you had no idea what you were signing up for by accepting this ring as a sign of your 'love' and 'fidelity'. you'd probably realize way too late in life, maybe late 30s, that this is not what you wanted.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby that feels just so sorry for you, that she holds you close and tells you how pretty you look today, the happiest day of your life. "always knew you'd make such a pretty little bride.. i mean, look at you..." her voice trails off as she tilts your chin up to guide your attention to the full length mirror. you did look pretty, the fancy white dress, perfect makeup and hair. perfect.

⏦ﾟ♡︎ bff!abby who stares at you through the reflection and gets an idea. a trip down memory lane, before you walk down the aisle.

"this fucking dress... makes you look so cute," she mumbles, her voice slightly forced as she stares at the lewd scene in the mirror. you pant and tremble, white heels dangling off your toes and the dress bunched up at your hips.

abby groans as she watches your cunt leak around two of her thick fingers, sat between her spread thighs and your back against her chest as you struggle to keep yourself together. "does he fuck you this good, baby? bet his dick isn't as big as mine, huh."

it wasn't, you know that much. abby's fingers with girthy, just two of them made you writhe and squelch, and that fucking strap she whipped out a few years ago had your sexual fantazies in a chokehold. the way you were so soaked that it just slipped in and out of your pussy without any struggle at all, the faux veins rippling against your insides and hitting all the right spots until you couldn't take it— and what did abby do then? she held you down and made you cum over and over.

your fiancé couldn't compare even if he tried, which he didn't. you were lucky if he even looked at your clit, never mind the sort of tricks abby was doing on it now.

"my pretty little girl, all dressed in white..." she murmurs, her fingers tapping firmly on your clit before rubbing in circles, watching your face scrunch up and your hips roll against her hand. "he's such a lucky man."

there's jealousy clear in her tone, because god she wants you. not just your body, she wants your fucking soul. your dna intertwined with her own. but she can't have that, because you don't like girls.

though, your face says different when her fingers stuff you full again. your head's empty at this point, so there's no lame excuse as to why you were happily letting your best friend fuck you minutes before your wedding, your soon to be husband already stood at the altar.

her fingers curl up to find that spot, smiling when your body almost lurches forward off the bed at the singeing pleasure that spikes through you. luckily, abby's arm is locked around your waist, and you stay pressed against her as she finger fucks you just how you remember— maybe even better. she clearly had more experience now. are you jealous?

"gonna fuck every vow out of that empty head." she promises, her thumb starting to abuse your clit in time with her plunging fingers, tears starting to bubble in your eyes as you writhe.

"a-abs, i'm— mmph, abby.."

"i know, wifey... pretty pussy's missed me so much, hasn't she?" she whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck as her hand continues to work perfectly between your spread legs. you know you'd think about this on your honeymoon, you'd think about her when your laid next to your husband, unhappy and yearning for her to come save you. and who knows? maybe after a few glasses of wine with your old college friend, she fucks you until you ruin that marital mattress for good.

happy valentine's day !!

⏦ﾟ♡︎ taglist !

@uhh-lana @pearlcigs @abbyspup @sunrxxyz @graciedollie @starrrcane @lilyyx0 @444fernz @tqlepatia @nvr4getme @2012wannabe @jaywritessometimes @jinxedbambi @tohoko @sapphicloverwlw @shadowmythe @fict1onallyobsessed @pornoangelz @milanyas @powderpinkandsweeet @femmecannibal @aeroti @eatencupcak3 @lils-1979 @sobersonder @dozybunny @fawncritter @nahcala @lesbones @sapphicantichrist @ethereaally @ruelezz @90yearoldbear

[cinnamqnx]

virtually yours ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆

pairing. seishiro nagi x f!reader

summary. you’re not a usually a gamer girl, occasionally playing the sims or roblox, so imagine your surprise when a clip of you & your best friend goes viral for talking shit to who you imagined was a 12 year old kid, but actually a popular streamer with a territorial fan base and of all place, on dress to impress.

warnings. basically just crack & fluff, nagi is a lil toxic at the start, swearing

15 | virtually yours

☁︎. one week later

your heart was beating out your chest, your palms sweaty as you stood in the hallway, waiting for seishiro nagi. he had just finished his football game, and to no one’s surprise, winning the match.

you would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous to meet the rest of his friends, but you couldn’t help if you and nagi wouldn’t click like you had online.

“y/n?”, you whip around, seeing nagi, his hair messy and disheveled after clearly having a shower. and damn, was 10x more attractive in person.

“hi.”, you say breathlessly, not expecting him to literally come up behind you, “where are your friends?”,, you ask, nervously.

he gives you a small smile, “are you more excited to see them than me?”

you raise your brows, “what? no. sorry, i’m just-“, you breathe, “i’m just really nervous.”

“i’ve been nervous all day, too.”, he mutters, running his hand through the side of his hair, “i was worried i wasn’t gonna perform well.”

“are you kidding? you did so well, sei. i’ve never been so invested in football.”, you laugh.

“really?”, he smiles.

you nod, looking up at him. hearing everything you did about nagi, you assumed he might come across more nonchalant, maybe even a bit quiet. that was your main worry when it came to meeting him and thinking your relationship might be different in person.

but, looking up and seeing the pure adoration in his eyes and the nervous expression he had on his face, you knew you never had a thing to worry about.

“so yeah, i don’t really know why i was so worried.”, you say to nagi, sitting across from him on a bench table at the fair, biting into a greasy hotdog he had just bought you.

you didn’t get a reply, looking over to see him staring at you, his hand on his cheek, “what?”

“hm?”, he asks.

“you’re just staring at me, is my rambling boring you?” you smile.

“no, you just look really pretty right now.”, he states as a matter of fact.

“i look pretty stuffing my face with this hotdog?@, you laugh.

“mhmm, you do.”, he smiles.

“shut up.”, you roll your eyes, smiling.

“i was really worried too. i’ve not really ever spoken to a girl like this before.”

“like, at all?”, you ask, surprised. he was a good looking boy, and he’s had no experience?

he shakes his head, “never been interested in anyone, and it always seemed like a hassle when i saw it.”

“and what do you think now?”, you smile, tilting your head at him.

“i still think it’s a hassle.”, he pauses, “but in a good way.”

“a hassle in a good way, hm.”, you repeat, finishing off the rest of your hotdog.

“what do you wanna do next?”, he asks, looking at you intently.

“i wanna go on the rides, obviously.”

“but they make me feel nauseous.”, he whines.

“uh huh, and who asked who to a fun fair?”, you smile at his whiny expression.

he simply sighs, looking back at you. how could he deny you when you’re smiling at him like that?

“now, cmon.”, you stress, getting up and grabbing nagi’s hand, “i don’t wanna wait around in the lines.”, you say, looking up at him with an eager glint in your eye, pulling him with you.

nagi couldn’t help but smile to himself, a month ago he would have never thought he’d be spending valentines with a gorgeous girl who he met on roblox, talking shit to him.

and while it may have caused him a great amount of hassle, he couldn’t be more grateful for it.

navigation. virtually yours

author’s note. i can’t believe this series is finished 😭 i’ve had so much fun writing this and seeing ur comments even if i didn’t get chance to reply :) ur all so funny and have me in hysterics 😭 if you enjoyed this series im hoping you’ll enjoy more fics i have coming in the future!!

taglist: @nensi @yuiearyi @mi2ukiss @pookalicious-hq @shumeow-h @solaqes @jellychannie @kermitbbg69 @pctterheadd @mizuwki @simpingmyassoff @karasu4life @crispynutella @stwberri @lilwx @suksatoru @rwura @ibyobi @renchai @nuhahani @digitaltrippers @natsukicookies @meekydeeks @ursafehaven @tamimemo @yukari1k @chaoslibra @mochiii-sama @cookielovesbook-akie @ningninjas @wallflowerdowned @hannimissesherbackbone @dinnersyummy @appalost @mbyy00 @asteraslvrr @kaz-0e @kascar-chronicle @arwawawa2 @rwbie @haruhi269 @lovessen @kaiserlvr @azharyy @hwaassaa @mikaru0 @sobbangchan @thenightsflower @chuurinnie @appl3-0rchard (closed)

[honeyncherry]

everything i never asked for - joe burrow

summary valentine’s day with joe

content fluff fluff fluff

You didn’t expect much for Valentine’s Day this year. The past couple of months had been rough, between everything that happened and Joe’s whirlwind schedule with the Pro Bowl, Honors, and the Super Bowl. You figured today would be low-key. Maybe just a lazy morning, a home-cooked meal, and some much needed rest.

And that was exactly how the day started.

You wake up to slow, warm kisses along your shoulder, Joe's voice still rough from sleep as he murmurs, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” He pulls you closer, his arm heavy around your waist, and for a while, you stayed tangled in the covers, soaking in the rare, quiet stillness.

By late morning, he’s in the kitchen making breakfast (if you can even call it that). He’s in a pair of grey sweats that hang low on his hips, hair still messy, leaning against the counter with a smug look as you do most of the work.

He claims he’s helping, but really, he’s just standing behind you, arms wrapped around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder, sneaking bites of the pancakes you’re making.

Later in the afternoon, your phone buzzes. A friend asks if you want to meet up for a little Galentine’s date. You hesitate, glancing at Joe, but before you can even consider turning it down, he nudges you.

"Go."

"No—"

"Seriously, go. You deserve a break from me," he jokes, smirking as he stretches out on the couch. "Besides, I promise I won’t waste away in your absence."

You narrow your eyes at him, sensing he’s up to something, but he looks completely unbothered. Eventually, you give in, grab your things, and head out.

The afternoon is easy, spent catching up and laughing, but a small part of you keeps thinking about Joe. How effortless the morning felt. How rare it is for him to have time to just be.

When you finally return home, you’re not expecting much, maybe him still sprawled on the couch, half-asleep. But the second you step inside, you realize something is different.

The lights are dim. Candles flicker along the dining table, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. The smell of something savory lingers in the air, and standing in the middle of it all is Joe. He’s changed into something nicer, sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms as he finishes setting the table, looking both ridiculously proud of himself and a little nervous.

"What is this?" you ask, blinking at the setup.

"A proper Valentine’s Day," he says, wiping his hands on a dish towel before making his way over to you. "Figured you deserved at least one romantic surprise today."

The table is set with the fine china set you two received as a housewarming gift. A homemade meal is waiting, something he clearly put effort into, even if a few little mishaps, like the slightly burnt garlic bread, give away his struggles. A bottle of wine is already open, two glasses waiting.

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he tugs you into his arms, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, fingers rubbing gentle circles into your back as he whispers, “Missed you today.”

The evening flows effortlessly, filled with laughter, teasing, and Joe dramatically complaining about “how hard cooking is” as he watches you take your first bite. He studies your reaction like it determines his entire fate, waiting for your verdict. You hum thoughtfully, dragging it out just to mess with him before finally breaking into a smile.

"It’s actually really good, Joe."

"You’re lying."

"No, I swear! Well… except maybe the garlic bread."

"Knew you were gonna say that."

You’re both grinning. He reaches across the table, fingers brushing over yours and his voice softer as he says, "I know things have been a lot recently."

He pauses, thumb grazing over your knuckles before meeting your eyes again. "I just wanted today to be about you. You deserve that."

Somehow, that means more to you than any grand gesture ever could.

After dinner, you both end up curled on the couch, his arm draped over your shoulders as some random movie plays in the background. You’re not really paying attention, just floating on the high of the day, tucked against his side, his fingers tracing lazy patterns over your arm.

Then, without warning, Joe suddenly untangles himself from you and disappears into the kitchen. You barely have time to question it before he’s back, a small bakery box in his hands, looking far too pleased with himself.

"Chocolate cake?" you ask, already smiling as he flips the lid open to reveal two thick slices of rich, decadent cake from your favorite bakery.

"Went out earlier and got it while you were gone," he says, settling back beside you. He grabs a fork, slicing off a bite before holding it up to your lips with an expectant look. "I’ll share. If you’re nice."

You roll your eyes but take the bite, humming in satisfaction as the sweetness melts on your tongue. It’s perfect, exactly how you like it. But before you can even reach for your own fork, Joe steals another bite, straight from your slice, grinning like he’s getting away with something.

"Joe!"

"What?" he says around a mouthful of cake, not even remotely guilty.

You huff, reaching for the box, but he shifts just out of reach, holding the fork and the cake hostage. It turns into a game, him dodging your attempts to take control of the dessert, laughter bubbling between you, the weight of the last few months feeling lighter than it has in a long time. Eventually he relents, letting you have your share, though not without sneaking a few extra bites when he thinks you’re too distracted.

By the time the cake is gone, Joe shifts slightly, adjusting so you’re tucked even closer. His fingers mindlessly trace over your knuckles where your hand rests against his chest, the warmth of his body easing you into a quiet, content haze.

You let out a sigh, fingertips grazing over his arm. "Thank you for today." His lips brush across your forehead, then your cheek, before finally pressing a tender kiss to your lips — his own silent way of saying you’re welcome.

The movie plays on, just background noise now, filling the quiet between your slowed breaths. His thumb moves absentmindedly over your wrist, a quiet, familiar touch that still makes your heart flutter after all this time.

Just when you think he might be drifting off, Joe presses another kiss to the top of your head, lingering for a second longer than necessary.

"This was nice."

You smile against his shirt, barely lifting your head. "Yeah?"

He hums in response, his chest rising and falling beneath your palm. "Yeah. Just us. Feels good."

There’s something unspoken in the way he says it, in the way his hold tightens around you, like he needed today just as much as you did. Maybe more.

You don’t say anything back. You don’t need to. Instead, you let your fingers lace through his, soaking in the kind of serenity that can only be found in moments like this.

As the candlelight flickers, casting golden warmth over the both of you, you realize that maybe you hadn’t expected much for Valentine’s Day. You hadn’t asked for anything, hadn’t wished for anything elaborate.

But Joe?

He’s always there, giving you more than you ever thought to ask for.

[dreaminguponlilypads]

PUNISHMENT.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader

pt. 2

happy birthday to me lol, you guys have starved for a fic long enough so i shall feed you. tell me if you want pt.2

You had never thought someone like Ghost would ever look twice at you.

You were quiet. A recruit who blended into the background, more comfortable observing than being in the spotlight. You had your own demons—self-doubt, anxiety, the constant nagging thought that you weren’t enough. That you’d never be enough.

But then he came along.

He had seen you when no one else did. Not just as a soldier, but as a person. His patience, his quiet reassurances, the way his hand would linger at the small of your back or how he’d pull you into his warmth after a rough day—it had all been real. Or so you thought.

Until you saw the messages.

Soap: Congrats, ya big muppet. Can’t believe yer actually gonna do it.

Gaz: Who would’ve thought a lost bet would end up here?

Price: Never seen you so whipped, mate. From bet to buying a ring—hell of a journey.

Soap: Aye, remember when he was grumbling about even asking em out? Now look at him.

Your stomach twisted as you read and reread the words.

A bet.

It had all started as a joke.

The relationship that had saved you, that had made you feel wanted, seen, loved—had started as nothing more than a game to him.

You wanted to be angry. Wanted to storm up to him, demand an explanation, throw the damn phone at his chest. But you couldn’t.

Because how could you be mad at something you had already feared deep down?

Of course, it had been too good to be true.

You had spent so long convincing yourself that Simon really wanted you, that he really saw something in you. But now? The gnawing insecurity that he had helped you fight off came roaring back with a vengeance.

Your hands were shaking when you set his phone back on the table.

You needed to get out of here.

-

Simon knew something was wrong the second he walked into your shared quarters.

He found you standing there, arms wrapped around yourself, eyes red-rimmed like you had been holding back tears. His stomach dropped.

“Love?” His voice was low, cautious. “What’s wrong?”

You forced out a shaky breath. “Was it all a bet?”

Silence.

Your heart clenched as you watched his expression flicker—confusion, realization, then something that almost looked like fear.

“Where’d you hear that?” His voice had taken on that measured tone he used in the field. Like he was calculating his next move.

You let out a hollow laugh. “Does it matter?” You lifted his phone slightly before setting it back down. “Your team’s got quite the sense of humor.”

He cursed under his breath. “It’s not what you think.”

You swallowed hard. “Then tell me what it is, Simon. Tell me why the man who made me believe I was worth something only asked me out because he lost.”

His eyes darkened. “It was a stupid bet. A joke between the lads. I didn’t think—I didn’t know—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “I never expected to fall for you.”

You flinched at the choice of words. “But you still lied.”

“I didn’t lie—”

“You didn’t tell me,” you shot back. “That’s the same thing.”

His lips pressed into a tight line. “I was ashamed.” His voice was quieter now. “Didn’t want you to think—” He cut himself off, jaw clenching before he forced himself to look at you. “Didn’t want you to think this wasn’t real.”

Your breath hitched. “But it wasn’t real. Not at first.”

His silence was all the confirmation you needed.

You had spent so long fighting off the belief that you weren’t good enough. That you weren’t worthy of someone like him. And now, every whispered fear, every creeping doubt, had been proven right.

You felt yourself withdrawing, curling inward, that familiar weight of insecurity pressing down on your chest. The walls you had let him tear down were rebuilding themselves brick by brick.

“I need to go,” you choked out, turning towards the door.

His hand caught your wrist, firm but careful. “Baby, please,” he murmured. “Don’t shut me out.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, breathing ragged. You wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that everything he had done for you, every loving caress, every whispered reassurance, hadn’t just been out of guilt or obligation.

But how could you?

You pulled your wrist free, ignoring the way his fingers lingered, like he couldn’t bear to let go.

“I can’t do this right now,” you whispered.

And then you walked away, leaving Simon standing there with his hands clenched at his sides, the weight of a ring box in his pocket feeling heavier than ever.

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

P*RNSTAR- J. TODD, D. GRAYSON, P. PARKER

pairing: boyfriend! p*rnstar!jason todd x p*rnstar!dick grayson x p*rnstar!peter parker x girly!fem! reader

word count: 3.5k

summary: after months of dating jason, you finally muster the courage to ask if you can be in one of his videos... with some company. aka his two best friends dick and peter-to get all the right angles, of course.

warnings: SMUT! threesum!, daddy kink, size / manhandling kink, swearing, pet names, innocence kink, porn mentioned ofc, heavy praise, overstimulation, light spanking, giving and recieving head, fingering, cumming inside, masterbation, jason is super possesive- the boys tease the hell outta him... (this is super dirty heh)

quick authors note- thank you to the lovely person who left a threesum request in my inbox, i had this idea for a while to do something with this song in mind- so happy i could write this :) happy reading and happy valentines day<3

"i wanna hear you talking dirty/ i wanna see it on your face/ i wanna feel you put the work in/ i wanna watch you entertain / flashing red light (baby, baby, baby)/ baby, you're a star/ fuck me all night/ (show me, show me, show me)/ show me who you are/ pornst-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ar (pornstar)"- p*rnstar, nessa barrett

Some things you knew, but you didn't.

Like when it came to your boyfriend's income.

He had more money than you could ever dream of. And yet- it was still a blurry line of where exactly he got it all.

Jason had pulled you aside before things got serious between you two- indicating what he did for a living. It wasn't a dinner table conversation at the busiest restaurant in Gotham, but he wasn't ashamed of himself.

He was worried about what you would think.

If you’d splash your glass of wine in his face, and be done with it.

But you were calm and understanding when he told you about his OnlyFans. About how dozens of his Twitter videos had gotten millions of views, with him as the main attraction.

He didnt work in the professional industry, he had assured you- there was no film crew, bright lights and casting calls. It was just him and his phone, sometimes a mask or two.

He was nearly appalled when you just smiled, squeezing his hand.

“That doesn't bother me Jason, I promise. Nothing you could say or do could be a deal breaker for me.”

You didn't really understand it all, how it all worked- but you were supportive nonetheless.

He couldn't help but chuckle slightly when a few minutes later you asked him if he filmed with anyone else. Not that you were jealous or anything if there was- it was work and all, you had quickly added.

“No one else sweetheart. Just me.”

And that had been enough of an explanation for you.

You didn't love him for his money, obviously- but it was definitely a nice bonus. He always lavished you in diamonds and lace- leaving fancy little lingerie pieces on the bed he’d hand pick for you to wear.

“Fuck, we’re gonna have to get you in a video soon sweetheart. Look how pretty you are for me, yeah?” he cooed in your ear as he fisted your hair in his hand, forcing you to look over into the mirror as he pounded into you from behind.

It drove you crazy.

You matched his freak in other ways, you were eager to learn new things and he loved to take care of you- practically using you as a doll for him to fuck however he wanted.

One night he had caught you watching one of his videos you had found on Twitter, your little pants and moans leading him right to the bedroom when he got home late from drinks with his friends.

“Whatdya think you’re doing, sweetheart?” he called from the doorway, making you gasp and quickly pull your hand out from your sleep shorts.

“I’m s-sorry I was just seeing- Just wanted to know what you liked..” you trailed off, squirming as he took heavy strides over to the bed, lifting your head to slide his large knee under it, supporting your weight.

“Well don't stop on my account princess. Show daddy how you touch yourself, yeah? All nice n wet f’me?”

You couldn't get that night out of your mind.

It had been a week since he had caught you in the act, and instead of embarrassed you felt… hornier.

Somehow.

It didn't make sense, you were rather shy and quiet when it came to sex- unless Jason guided you to let go (which you loved). Sex wasn't foreign to you by any means- I mean, your boyfriend was a pornstar for god's sake.

But this?

This weird sense of courage, or pride to show yourself off with him? It was foreign.

You had sat on the idea for a little, and the more you thought about filming with him, the more wet your panties seemed to get at the idea.

It got to the point where you were so caught up in it, Jason had to sit you down on his lap- something he often did when you were either sad, anxious, clingy or in subspace- in the middle of the day.

“Sweetheart, are you okay? You’ve been distracted all week. What's on your mind pretty?”

“S’nothing Jay.” you mumbled into his shirt, body going taunt as his hand came down to stroke your head.

“Princess you know better than to hide from me, yeah? Use your big girl words and tell  me what's going on inside that beautiful mind.”

You clung to his shirt, scrunching the fabric with a closed fist as you cleared your throat.

“I just- I was thinking a lot, lately. About, your work.” He stilled.

“And I think, if you’re okay with it, I’d maybe like to be in a video. If you’d let me, if you’re comfortable- I mean.”

Jason was frozen. All you could hear was his gentle breathing, the rise and fall of his chest as you lifted your head, peering up at him.

“Jay?”

“Are you sure angel? You really wanna do that?”

You nodded.

“I think it would be fun. And sexy. Ya know, like you showing me off…” you trailed off, and he smirked.

“You like that, don't you?”

“Maybe a little.”

He cooed at your confession, slowly starting to bounce his knee, just the way he knew drove you crazy. He swore he could hear you purring, like it was a cat who was curled on his thick thighs, and not the sweetest, most precious and innocent little angel he had ever laid eyes on.

Who had just confessed she wanted to film content with him.

Who knew what other tricks she had up her sleeve?

He was eager to find out. And even more eager to show you off, and remind everyone that you were his girl.

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

You had two other tricks up your sleeve.

And those two tricks consisted of Dick Grayson and Peter Parker. His friends, who just so happened to also film content.

Peter seemed to be just as surprised as you were, for going through with this- but more so at Jason.

“I’m surprised you’re willing to share your princess Jason. So possessive all the time, isn't he Dick?” was the first thing he said as he entered, tossing you a flirty little wink.

Jason responded with a growl, entirely proving his point as he started to shield you from the two men who flung themselves down on the couch, peering over at you with nothing but a look of hunger at your innocent little outfit- you had your thigh highs on with your short little pink skirt you knew drove Jason wild.

It seemed to drive more then just him wild, though.

“Jay..” you murmured, placing a gentle hand on his bicep,poking out from behind his towering body.

“I’m doing this for my girl. So make her happy, or so be it..” he grumbled at the guys, making Dick smirk cockily.

“Oh we’ll make her happy alright.”

“She’s so meek, like a little kitten. It's adorable, really.” Peter cooed, leaning over to look at you.

“I don't think we’ve met before angel. But Jason talks our ears off about you.”

“Good things I hope.” you giggled, your eyes meeting with Jasons. There was a darkness in them that you only saw when he was feeling feisty, when you acted out.

Good.

“Only the best things.” Dick chimed in, adjusting himself so he manspread on the couch, and you fought the urge not to stare at the prominent bulge that strained his gray sweats.

You felt a hand slip to rest on your hip, fingers digging into the skin as Jason tugged you closer to him.

“You’re gonna have to stop being so possessive someday Jason. This might be good for you. Like exposure therapy, or whatever.” Peter tsked, eyeing where his hand lay.

“Two rules.” you said, getting everyone's attention, three sets of eyes on you, all perked with attention.

“I want Jay in the room at all times. And, um if for whatever reason if I need to stop or don’t like something, we’re gonna take a breather.”

“Hon, thats a given. One hundred percent, no question.” Dick reassured, Peter nodding beside him in agreement. “And don’t feel pressure about money or anything okay? Even if you decide to suddenly stop- there's no pressure. Money is already on the table for you baby.” Peter added, making you chirp out a little giggle.

“Oh I’m not worried about money, I get plenty of that from him.” you looked over at Jason, his eyes soft and gentle as they stared into yours, as if he was relinquishing in the moment that this was really happening.

That he’d be able to show you off, and know that people could fantasise about your little noises as much as they wanted, but could never have them for themselves.

“I’m gonna go get her prepped. I’ll call you when we’re ready.” Jason stated gruffly, tugging you along like a lost puppy to the bedroom.

You looked over your shoulder, giving the men a little wave and a soft smile as you were guided to the bedroom, before the door shut, leaving you with Jason.

Heat pooled between your legs at the look he gave you, his hard, rough exterior dropping as soon as he was alone with you. He sat on the edge of the bed, manspreading as he silently coaxed you over to him with two fingers.

“You feelin okay pretty?” he asked gently, hand reaching up to cup your cheek, to which you nuzzled into.

He was warm.

“I’m perfect.” you said, making him hum in content. “D’want me to make you feel good baby? Get you all nice n ready before they come- have some privacy?” he cooed, canines nipping at your neck as you giggled, letting him sweep you up and guide you on the bed, lying down under him.

“Jay?”

“Mmm?” he hummed against your skin, planting gentle kisses down your neck.

“You’re mine. Ya know? You’re always mine.”

He stilled, eyes darting up to meet yours, before swiftly kissing you on the mouth with so much passion it sent shivers down your spine as you moaned, arching into the kiss.

He tasted so sweet, so good. It was only when he parted you realized you needed air, letting out a little gasp.

“I know honey. You got that tattoo to prove it. I’m not worried.” he winked, patting your inner thigh gently at the little heart that poked out from under your skirt.

“And you know-” he leaned in close, breath hot and heavy as it ticked your ear. “No one can make you feel as good as I can. They may think they know you, what you like- but I know you sweetheart. You’re mine.”

You moaned, and he cooed at you in content as you wiggled your hips, desperate for friction.

“Can you lift those pretty lil legs for me honey? Drape them over my shoulders, like we always do?” you nodded, complying immediately as you bent them up, so your thigh high socks brushed his skin.

“Gooooood girl. You’re always so good, aren't you?”

His fingers darted down to feel the wet spot through your panties, the pads of his fingers moving in gentle circles as you groaned.

“J-jay-”

He quickly tugged off your little cotton panties in one fluid motion, exposing your bare cunt to him. He bent you forward even more, so your legs were near touching the bed behind you as he examined you.

“Such a pretty lil cunt. So tight too.” he chuckled, rubbing a finger through your soaked folds, tapping your clit and making you jump before he slid a finger in, making you moan loudly.

“Yeah, that's the spot isn't it? Hey, hey look at me-” he guided, other hand coming up to squeeze your cheeks together, making your eyes stare into his.

“It's just us, okay princess? Just you n me. Keep looking at me, I know, I know it feels so good doesnt it?”

“Yess, yes fuck Jay-”

“Thats not my name, sweetheart.” he tsked, curling his finger as he slowly started to pump in and out of you, making you mewl.

“Daddy fuck.” you moaned, head loling to the side as you let bliss take over you- his sign to add a second finger.

“You’re doing so well for me princess. Thats it.” he coaxed, smirking at the blissed out face you made as he went deeper.

The door creaked open, Jasons head whipping back to glare at the guys. “I thought I said I’d call you when shes ready?” he drawled, movements not faulting despite his divided attention.

“She sure as fuck sounds ready to me. Not my fault her pretty lil moans were like a sirens call. Fuck me.” Dick whistled, leaning against the door as he watched you with wide eyes, your head rolling to see him and Peter enter the room, looking at you in awe.

“Shes a natural.”

“She is natural. We don't fake around here, do we princess?” Jason asked, and you quickly shook your head before another broken moan escaped your lips as he curled his fingers again, just the way you liked.

“She likes praise. Rough play, depending on how rough. Some degradation, but I only use it if shes being bad. She may look it, but shes not breakable. Fuck her right.” Jason instructed them, acting like you werent right in front of them, overhearing all of this.

It kinda turned you on more honestly, the way they just kind of let you go.

“Shes so pretty.” Peter cooed, coming over to the bed side, placing a hand on your cheek- just as Jason had done a few moments prior. You nuzzled into his touch, breathing in the gentle smell of his cologne.

You could feel their eyes on you, but it didn't feel uncomfortable, like you were scared it would.

No, it felt… nice. Rewarding.

“I’m gona turn this on now, okay angel?”

You nodded, and the little right light flickered on. “F-fancy.” you hiccuped, making them all laugh.

“Very. Only the best for you.”

You sighed softly as Peters hand trailed down, down to your breasts, squeezing one gently.

“Be gentle with her.” Jason murmured again as he stood, letting the two other guys get a feel for you. It was only fair, you supposed.

“Hi pretty. Is it okay if I flip this up?” Dick asked, fingers tracing the hem of your skirt.

“Do you want it off?” you asked meekly, and he shook his head. “And not show the camera how cute you are in it? In this little getup?”

He pinched your thighs. “S’not a getup its just my clothes- ohhh!” you squealed as Dick was spreading your legs apart, tounge lapping at your cunt like a man starved.

Beofre you could get out another moan, Peters two fingers slid between your parted lips, and your eyes widened in surprise before you obidenly sucked on them.

“You get her like this all the time, dressed like this? Jesus Jason we might have to come drink here.” Peter groaned, Jason only letting out a grunt in reply as he palmed himself through his pants.

“You take it so well sweetheart. Making your little boyfriend over there all hot and bothered.”

You moaned, squirming before Dick squeezed your thighs tighter, forcing you to stay in place. You almost cried at the sensation, his tongue circling your clit, tugging on the little nub.

“Think she's ready?” Peter asked. “You kidding? She’s been ready this whole time. I just wanted to get a taste. So sweet.” Dick hummed, poking his head up from between your thighs, chin glistening in the soft light.

“I get her first. Shes my girlfriend.” Dick rolled his eyes.

“Fine, fine yes, yes. So bossy, isnt he? Thats no fun.” Dick hummed as Peter slipped his fingers out of your mouth with a soft pop!, a trail of salvia stringing to his digits.

“Ngh-” was all you could get out as Dick flipped you over with no effort, gentle hands rubbing your back in soothing circles.

“S’okay bunny. We’re gonna let you cum as many times as you want. You can make a mess, okay?”

You nodded feverishly. “Am I doing good?”

“So good princess. So good. Can you open your mouth for Peter?” You lolled your tongue out, looking up at the man with glazed over puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck…” he murmered as he tugged down his pants, bundling your hair up in his hand. You felt Jason come over to place a gentle tap on your ass, his indication he was about to enter you.

You clenched in anticipation, barely able to get out a word before they both entered you- from opposite ends.

It was bliss.

Your moan vibrated straight down Peter's dock and he hissed as the sensation, slowly starting to work your mouth in rhythm with Jasons gentle thrusts. He wasn't as rough as he usually was, and you knew it was because of the sudden changes in the bedroom.

He didn't want you to get overwhelmed, and you were thankful for it. All the attention had you buzzing, the praise spewing from their mouths sending like prayers at mass.

“Fuck princess you’re so fucking tight. Always so tight.” Jason growled, tossing his head back in bliss as he spread your ass, plunging into you deeper. You mewled, eyes staring up into Peters, full of lust.

He looked so beautiful, peering down at you from this angle. So tall and handsome, his happy trail brushed against your nose as you took him deep, gagging slightly at his size.

The sound just spurred him on even more, as he fucked your mouth harder, before you gasped for air, tears starting to stream from your waterline.

“S’much, so big-” you sputtered out, gasping for air, mascara smudging down your cheeks.

“My pretty little girl, did so good.” Dicks hands caressed you, hiking up your shirt, for the skin on skin contact.

He let out a little gasp, fingers tracing the ink that dotted your lower back. “My god…” he murmured at your tramp stamp that said princess, with little swirls and stars.

Jason had got it for you, holding your hand the whole time, and planting kisses on your head as you braved through the pain. You had wanted one for months, but could never find the courage to get one, or the money to be spending freely on things like that.

Until- you met Jason, of course.

“I know. Ain't she a treat? Helped her pick it out myself.” Jason smirked, giving your ass a smack.

“Daddy..” you whimpered, head falling down into the sheets without Peter's support.

“My turn. You’re on exposure therapy, remember?” Dick said, about to shoo Jason off before you cried out.

“W-wait I’m about to cum just- please, please-” you begged, more tears starting to stream down from your eyes from the overstimulation your body was feeling.

Legs began to shake as Jason grumbled something incoherent, fucking you harder and deeper, so hard you started to jolt forward down into the sheets.

You reached your hand out and you felt Peters hand cup over yours, his thumb softly stroking your skin in little circles. “You’re doing so good honey. You feelin good? Gonna cum for your daddies?"

You whimpered, nodding as you squeezed his hand as you cried out loudly, cumming on Jason's dick with no warning.

“Fuck. Fuck good girl princess I’m gonna fuck- fucking stay there and let me fill you up.” he groaned, giving a few more sloppy thrusts before you felt the warm, sticky liquid fill up your insides.

Dicks eyes widened in shock, completely forgetting about the camera that was currently focused on the four of you, whipping his head to Jason.

“Wait can you d-”

“M’on the pill.” you heaved out, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck. Fuckin hell, move.” Dick groaned, quickly taking Jasons place, wasting no time to plunge deep into you, shoving Jasons leaking cum back inside as he fucked you slowly.

You swore you saw stars behind your eyes as Peter started to slip his fingers back in your mouth, relieving your oral fixation.

You cried out, muffed between his digits as Dick picked up the pace, just as Jason did. Hitting spots you could only dream of.

“I know baby I know that was a stretch wasn’t it? But I promise it’ll feel so good, you’re doing so good for me- aren’t you? My sweet thing.” he cooed, making your eyes roll.

“J-jay is s’much. So, so much.”

“I know princess, you wanna stop? Just say your word.”

You shook your head. “N-gh- no I wanna keep going just- just need you here.” you reached for his hand squeezing it as well.

It was so big and rough, swallowing your palm whole. You looked over into his soft gaze, a little smile on his face that he saved only for you.

“I’m here princess. Daddys right here for his lil girl.”

[nayaesworld]

Made Men

Mafia!Terry Richmond x Black reader

Warnings: MDNI, Family trauma, mentions of murder, betrayal

A/N: Happy Lovers Day y’all…I hope y’all enjoy💕

—

Summary: Focus on your studies, mind your manners, and stay away from that Richmond boy. Your aunt sang that same tune to you over and over again…but destiny had better plans. And In a world where most people experienced death long before love, how could you deny fate when it came wrapped in a 6’3 package with a crimson bow on top..made men made the underground world go round and yours just so happened to be a bit off its axis..

His very own Miss Universe. The epitome of black beauty and radiance, and he loved you. For all the things that were terribly wrong and fucked up in his life, you were that one right thing in his world that kept him grounded and humble. He loved you for all your weird quirks and interests, for all your loud laughs and giggles, and yet life was telling him yet again that he couldn’t have it all.

Why did the two of you deserve to pay for the past grievances of your families? Why did the two of you have to pay for something that y’all weren’t alive to experience? People were trying to keep her out of his reach, without knowing how far he’d go to get her. No limits. No fucks given for the lives he’d take so they had better stay out of his way. No more separation from her. He couldn’t live that way, couldn’t live without her.

She was worth the trouble, she was worth the risk.

Hands tapping lightly against the steering wheel of his 1969 Ford Mustang. Smoke billowing in the cabin of the car from his cigar. He had learned early on that patience was a virtue and honing it for the right moment made all the difference. He was watching and waiting for his cue, a signal from his baby. It was such a shame he had to even go to such lengths to bust her out of that prison they called her home. A sit down was what he was hoping for, a little chat of some sort to get down to the bottom of this bullshit. So much bull shit. Terry knew who he had to have it with and he played out how things might go in his head, but he’d take any chance if it meant peace with her.

A light switched on and off twice in the living room of the house. His signal..and a sign that things might not be going so smoothly inside for her. He blew out a stressed breath before he stepped out of his car, frustrations were running high but he tried to remain calm and let the bite from the wind chill his hot head. They were supposed to be on the road by now. Long gone and doused in the warm sun deep in Jamaica. A retreat..an escape from this life, and her Valentine’s Day gift. Yet here he was February 13th a day before…bulllshit. His long black leather trench coat blew in the wind as he advanced towards her childhood home.

__

You

Things were bad again between you and your aunt. The packed bags and visible passport sent her into a fit of rage. Only this time you met her frenzied haze of nasty words and disappointment with your own anger. You were beyond fed up, her constant overprotective nature and disregard for your feelings was wearing you down.

“What? You thought I was gonna just let you run off with that boy…he’s no good?!”

“You never even tried to get to know him, you’re a fucking hypocrite, you’re ruining my damn life and you don’t even care!” Wet hot tears streamed from your face endlessly, your body running high on emotions and you were lightheaded from all the yelling.

“I know enough about his family that I shouldn’t have ever let you get close to him! You don’t know what you think you do and I’m sick of repeating myself.”

“Yet again you're speaking in a riddle like I’m some child..tell me the truth. If you care for me how you so often claim. Tell. Me. The. Truth.” Your fingers hit your palm after every word. Beyond fed up with your aunt's silly little rants, this was not going to be how you continued to live your life.

A heavy knock at the front door shut her mouth before she could lie again. The knock was loud and solid, but knowing who resided on the other side of it made your hammering heartbeat calm down enough for you to finally breathe.

Your protector.

Your calm in the loud world.

Your Terry.

You rushed to open the door, almost pulling it clean from its hinges in your rush to get there before your aunt. Leathered hands reached for you and pulled you into his embrace, the smooth cool leather not hiding the rapid thump of his heartbeat. He was angry too..and rightfully so.

“Are you ok..did anybody put their hands on you?” He fired off questions quickly and I shook my head no before he placed me behind him and stepped into the house.

“You’re not welcomed here..bold of you to show your goddamn face.”

“I’m welcomed wherever she is. Because unlike you I have her best interest..period.” You watched him reach down and set a timer on his wristwatch before he rolled his tense shoulders.

“Five minutes. That’s how long you get to tell your niece the truth, or I will. Tell her why you can’t bear to look me in my face…why you can’t tell her the truth after 25 fucking years of raising her.”

Vanessa; your aunt stared daggers at Terry. She reached into her purse and pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes and a lighter. A sign that she was getting overly irritated and anxious but you could care less. She owed you this and so much more. She pat the bottom of the pack before pulling one out and quickly lighting it.

“ I don’t owe her or you a motherfucking thing. And if you knew what was good for you, you’d watch your next words carefully.” Deflection. It was typical with her.

“Tick-Tock auntie, you do it or I will.” His usual smile ridden face was still and frozen in anger. A stark difference from the man you cracked jokes with.

“You damn Richmond men..always coming around taking what doesn’t belong to you. A bunch of no good ass niggas!” More riddles. More rage.

“Tell her how your obsessive and lustful behavior behind my uncle put her mother and father in harm's way. How you knew he actually wanted her but you didn’t mind playing the back field just as long as you were around him.” And there it was, the truth that for some reason I wasn’t owed. The reason my parents were murdered.

“Tell her! How even though you knew her mother had no interest in my uncle, you still planted those seeds into his head that got her parents murdered..you knew he couldn’t take her rejecting him and you sat back and watched this unfold anyways.”

Sobs escaped your mouth and threatened to choke me with their escape. The truth really did hurt and right not that pain was feeling more physical than mental. All that time without the truth..without your parents. Your child would never know this kind of pain and despair. You pulled the white mohair cardigan tightly around your little bump. You and Terry were going half on God's greatest gift to earth…something to live for and do better for. Your sole reason for wanting to get the hell away from this place. You had done your time here tenfold, it was time to get away and raise your baby with your fiancé.

“Go put your bags in the car baby..I’ll be right behind you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and handed your bags to you.

“Hmm so you just gonna choose that nigga over your own flesh, how are you any different from me neice?”

I rushed over to rearrange her face but Terry grabbed me and pulled me to him. My shaking hands were covered by his large ones and I let their warmth mingled in with his protective gaze soothe me.

“Remember what we’re fighting for, baby. She’s not worth it, you know that, it’s just me, you, and our future.” He bent down into a squat and pressed a kiss to my belly, whispering kind words and affirmations to it.

“That baby will have his last name… his DNA. That’s no family of mine. You leave this house,you're dead to me girl!”

“I’m counting on it.” And with that you grabbed Terry's car keys and slowly carried all your belongings outside. Freedom at last.

__

Terry

“I haven’t heard from Terrell in a week, what did you do to him? I’ll have your body parts scattered from here to fucking South America..don’t test me boy!”

“My uncle is dead..and if you don’t want to meet the same fate as him I’d advise you to watch what you say next Vanessa. This is the bed you made, lay in it.”

“Terrell was a good man! He had his bad days, name a person that doesn’t…he loved me and you took him from me!” More deluded thoughts of “love” but what this really was was a sick obsession.

“My uncle was a sorry ass nigga. A scum that deserved to be wiped clean from this earth…behind her you gotta know I’ll get rid of anybody so please don’t be so surprised.”

Terry stepped into your room and headed to her walk-in closet where she had the rest of her valuables packed and tucked into a corner. He slung the duffel bags over his shoulder and grasped the photo album containing pictures of her and her parents before walking from the room. Vanessa sat in the recliner near the window watching Y/n settle into the passenger seat. Envy written across her face clear as day. She wanted what she couldn’t have, so she had planned to live vicariously through her niece. But those days were over.

“For what it's worth, she really did love you. Long before you broke her heart and crushed her dreams, you meant something to her once upon a time.” She squinted her eyes at him and walked over to stand toe to toe with him. Smoke from her cigarette blowing out of her pity and into his face.

“Get out of my house. And if you or her return to this city I won’t stop her uncles from going after either of you.”

Terry simply smirked to himself before walking away and out into the cold air. The constant purr of his car welcoming him back.

“Where will we go?” He stared into her pretty shining eyes, hands stroking her cheek.

“The time I had to spend away from you…I had something built for us, a haven. I promised you a home to raise our child in, someplace silent and serene. That place is ready love.”

__

“Baby you have to secure her head first..I promise you won’t break her.” You laughed softly at the panicked look on Terry’s face as you slid your one month old daughter into his arms.

Peace and bliss had befallen you and Terry those last months of your pregnancy. As he promised he had you nestled away in the beautiful woods of Fairburn, Georgia. The 3,000 square foot lake house sat on the Chattahoochee River smack dead in the middle of two acres of land ; it had a wrap-around porch and had three bedrooms and bathrooms. Your pregnancy was safe and your baby was healthy because of it, the quiet air surrounding you was a safety net.

You found peace everywhere on the property. Sitting on the front porch sipping your favorite red wine,arranging a savory dinner on the marble island in your kitchen, splashing your feet into the river while your fire pit crackled beside you, or those sweet nights where you laid in bed curled into the hard ridges of your fiancés body. Now your favorite times were spent nursing your daughter Clark, and adjusting to and loving the everlasting changes of motherhood. The love between you and Terry grew constantly and sometimes you’d wonder how it was even possible to love someone with every fiber of your being…how you could love everything about him.

“That little eyebrow arch she does is all you, and she thinks it’s so funny…hi my little dumpling aren’t you just the funniest sweet thing.” Your squeaky baby voice had Terry chuckling as you moved away to prepare her bottle. You poured the cooled breast milk into a four ounce bottle before placing it inside a bottle warmer to be heated. You squirted a bit on your wrist to test its temperature before walking into the living room and handing it to Terry. You watched her as her little hungry coos filled the living room and her tiny hands reached up to pull in her father’s shirt.

You munched on oatmeal chocolate chip lactation cookies and stroked the fine hairs along his neck. “Thank you for rescuing me. All I had to do was mention my situation one time,you never questioned me,never hesitated, all you did was act. I’m blessed that Clark has you for a father, she won’t ever feel what I felt growing up.”

“You thank me? I did what a man was supposed to do love, you don’t see that light around you..that light that binds me to you. I’ve killed for you…and to keep this peace I’d do it again. Because there is no price too high to pay for what you give me, what you just gave me.” He racked down and pecked a kiss onto the baby’s head before pulling you in for a tender kiss.

“We’re raising our daughter together, she’ll always have us…always feel the love we have for her. She's gonna grow up here and never have to lift a finger. She’ll be beautiful and smart just like her mommy because that’s what we intend for her.”

“And so it will be darling…next on our list the wedding”

“You ready to become Mrs.Richmond and give me a bunch of babies?”

“I’ve been Mrs.Richmond since we were seventeen having baseball tournaments in the park.. I loved you then and I still do…and I’ll give you a hundred babies, pretty boy.”

“Mm you want me to lay Clark down so we can work on number two right now..I think she wants a sibling, look at that face.” He held her up and matched the cute pouty expression on her face.

“My baby said no such thing..but mommy does need some loving from daddy. Can you have her down in ten minutes?”

He put her in the crook of his arm and began rocking her slowly. “Make it five, and put that new lace set on…I wanna tear it off you.”

You took off running towards your shared room and slipped into the racy pink set. You sank into the plush bed giggling softly to yourself. Thank god for made men…

__

@kirayuki22 @uniqueoutlierblog @rose-bliss @kaylalb @blackpinup22 @henneseyhoe @slvt4her @ruewritesoccasionally @writingsbytee @melalsworld @mauvecherie-writes @venusincleo @meadowshelby @cocooned-butterfly @playgurlxoxo @piscesdashcam @otfniah @23jammy @that-one-anxious-mango @ch33z3grits @melosliving @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @kenshisluvrgirl @rawflwrs @becauseimswagman1 @ranikyani @blyffe @keehendrixx @ovohanna24 @yassbishimvintage @pocketsizedpanther @simplyzeeka @zillasvilla @blowmymbackout @kimuzostar @kumkaniudaku @megamindsecretlair @theereina @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

[alalalalaalalalviraaaaa]

summary: valentine's day? this is nerdjo's perfect chance! pt.1

song list: (hella short cuz this is short)

espresso- sabrina carpenter

obsessed- mariah carey

kiss it better- rihanna

"i-i... well um, i think you're uhh, very... pretty... and i um, you'r-"

"so you mean i'm hot and you can't stop staring?" you say in a judgy voice, unable to comprehend what's going on— or 'flabbergasted' as what the dumbass in front of you calls it. "listen up, nerd: i know i'm a looker, and i don't need someone like you to remind me of that, mmkay? so scram." you say, pushing past like what? the 13th dumbass? and you're not even two hours in.

you look to your side, just to be met by satoru, a loyal puppy. even though he was the smartest, he did your homework for free, unlike the other nerds who'd grown some balls thinking they had a chance with you— except for the chance to finish your essays.

pretty face adorned with baby blue eyes, satoru wasn't that ugly. in fact, he wasn't ugly at all. just that... he was a nerd. with nerdy glasses, nerdy clothes, and thick, nerdy books in his hands 24/7. flustered, stuttering mess. hey, but he looks so cute wrapped around your finger, ain't that right?

"well," he chuckles and pushes his glasses up with an index. damn, 5 inch fingers? what about his co- "you're getting a lot of confessions, huh?" he shakes his head head slightly and walks alongside you.

"mhm... it's exhausting." you say tiredly, with a hint of smug in your voice. "oh, and did you finish my assignment? need to hand it over next period." you inquire, expecting the work. satoru was never late to anything. punctual, perfect, and what not? would be your mom's dream if you brought him home.

"oh, yeah! i did it for you, and i guarantee you'll get an A!" he says proudly, looking over at you.

"uhh.. okay, now hand it over?" you say with a bit of attitude, your hand open as you observe him scrambling for it in some bag. "here! here is it!" he hands it to you like some sacred treasure. you look at the paper, looking at what he wrote before you catch a glimpse of red and some scrunching of wrappers as he zips the bag up. your eyebrows furrow as realise what it is. roses. and chocolates. who the fuck is he giving that to?

"what's that?" you ask sternly, looking up at him, the assignment completely forgotten. "the thing in your bag. who's that for, huh?" you push him against a wall, quickly pinning him.

"w-what do you mean? i-i don't know what yo-"

"the roses. and chocolates. in your bag right now, who's that for, eh? some other nerdy slut? that blondie cheerleader? psst- she won't accept it, cut it out. no one would." you say harshly, not a single bit jealous. scoff, you've never been jealous in your life.

a flicker of emotions flash by his face and then it settles to a one of annoyance.

"not even you?" he says, a hint of smugness in his face.

"what?" you say, now truly 'flabbergasted'. what does he mean by that? there's no way he's...

"well, since no one would accept me... i guess you won't get those." he signals to the bag with his eyes and looks back into your eyes deeply. a full blown smirk adorns his face, the 'next period' completely out of mind.

"wait, i didn't mean that, come on!" you retorted. how could he speak to you like that? you were the famous y/n, who would not confess to you? you take the roses and chocolates out of his bag, and shove it into his hands. "now do it, properly. say how much you love me and what you find hot about me."

"i know you have guys all over you all the time, but they're all just desperate and weak. i ain't like them. i'm confident and i know what i want. and what i want is you. you're absolutely hot, and nobody else is gonna have you. so yeah, i want you, and i'm not takin' no for an answer."

lips crash and feelings form, you taking the first move. tongues moving and doing more to express more than words. you both knew you both wanted this. he switches positions and puts a leg in between yours, making it unable for you to escape. his thigh rubs against yours and he gropes you, out in the hallway, where anyone could see. but no one was around, and that was all that mattered (you as well). he breaks the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

"y/n, please... i need you so much right now."

pt.2

[anticipatedexhale]

Could you do a drabble of Arcane x rockstar reader? Classic prompt that's been overused 😞

I believe this prompt will never get old darling I absolutely love this idea!!

I'm a Rockstar~~!

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧୨୧

♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, sevika, jayce, jinx, mel, viktor, vi,

☆ ◞ summary: them absolutely being smitten by their Rockstar partner

△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader, the tension is crazy , suggestive like really, I must say Viktors and sevikas parts made me feel smth..

Jayce Talis.

Jayce had never been the type to feel starstruck. He was the golden boy of Piltover, a man who walked into any room and commanded attention without even trying.

And yet, here he was, sitting front row at your concert, absolutely wrecked by the sight of you on stage.

The lights flashed behind you, turning your silhouette into something almost otherworldly. Your voice—strong, sultry, powerful—cut through the air like a drug, and Jayce swore he could feel every word vibrate through his chest.

You weren’t just performing. You were owning the stage, strutting across it with a confidence that made his blood run hot. Your fingers danced along the microphone stand, your outfit hugging every inch of you just right, your movements sharp and fluid all at once. The way you tilted your head, the teasing way your lips curled into a smirk every time you met his gaze—it was all too much.

Jayce sat there, legs spread, arms resting on his thighs, pretending to be composed when, in reality, he was anything but. His fingers twitched against his knee, gripping the fabric of his pants as his jaw clenched.

You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

And you loved it.

Your gaze flickered to him mid-song, and instead of looking away, you leaned into the mic, voice dropping lower, sultrier. “This one goes out to a very special someone tonight…”

Jayce swallowed hard.

His fingers twitched again, his body instinctively shifting in his seat. Fuck.

It wasn’t fair. He was used to being the one people looked at like this. The one who had admirers swooning over him, not the other way around. But you? You had him wrapped around your damn finger, and you knew it.

The concert ended in a blur. He barely registered the cheers, the way the entire crowd was completely enamored with you. The only thing on his mind was you—how fast he could get backstage, how soon he could have you all to himself.

When he finally pushed through the crowd, security recognizing him instantly and letting him through, he found you in your dressing room, still glowing with post-show energy.

“You,” Jayce started, voice thick, heated, as he leaned against the doorframe. “You enjoy torturing me, don’t you?”

You turned, feigning innocence. “Me? Torture you?” You took a step closer, tilting your head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jayce.”

His hands were on you before you could say another word, fingers curling around your waist as he pulled you close. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips brushing against your jaw before he murmured, “You know exactly what you do to me.”

Your grin was devastating, a slow, lazy thing that sent a shiver down his spine. “Maybe I do,” you mused, fingers tracing up his chest. “And maybe I like seeing you like this.”

Jayce let out a low, almost pathetic groan, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “You’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?”

You laughed, hands threading through his hair. “But what a way to go, huh?”

And yeah. Jayce couldn’t even argue with that.

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

Mel Medarda

Mel Medarda was not the type to lose her composure.

She had spent her entire life mastering the art of control—her words, her expressions, even the subtle tilt of her head that could make men beg for her attention. She played the political game better than anyone, moving through high society like a queen among pawns.

But then she met you.

And you—the reckless, magnetic, wildly talented rockstar who seemed to command the attention of an entire city without even trying—had the audacity to be hers.

Tonight, she sat in a private VIP booth, legs crossed, wine glass in hand, watching as you performed under the blazing stage lights. The world saw you as untouchable, a star burning too brightly to hold. But Mel? She saw the way your gaze kept flickering to her. How, even with thousands of people screaming your name, you sang for her.

The song slowed, the bass humming low through the speakers as you stepped toward the mic, voice dropping into something sultry, teasing.

“This next one,” you said, letting the words roll lazily off your tongue, “is dedicated to someone very special in the audience tonight.”

Mel raised a brow, lips curving into a knowing smirk as you lifted your hand and pointed directly at her.

A murmur ran through the crowd, people turning to try and spot who had caught your attention. Some guessed, some whispered, but Mel? She simply sipped her wine and held your gaze, unfazed.

You lived for the way her expression never wavered—cool, controlled, elegant. Unshaken. But you also knew better.

You knew how to crack that perfect, composed shell of hers.

So you turned away from the mic, running a hand through your hair, letting the sweat from the performance cling to your skin in a way you knew would drive her insane. Then, as the guitar hummed in the background, you let your fingers drag down your chest, slow and teasing, as if tracing where her hands would be if she weren’t across the room.

Mel exhaled through her nose, slow and measured, shifting in her seat.

Oh, she was seething.

Not in anger—no, Mel Medarda didn’t get angry over things like this. But she did get possessive.

She let you play your little game. Let you soak in the crowd’s adoration, let you tease and smirk and act like the stage belonged to you (which, to be fair, it did). But the second the show ended?

She was waiting for you.

You barely made it three steps backstage before her hand caught your wrist, tugging you aside into the privacy of an empty dressing room. The door clicked shut behind you, the hum of the concert still ringing in your ears as you turned, grinning.

“Enjoy the show?” you asked, feigning innocence.

Mel tilted her head, gaze sharp as she stepped closer. “You enjoy making a spectacle of yourself, don’t you?”

Your grin widened. “Only for you.”

She studied you for a moment, eyes trailing over the way your chest still heaved from the adrenaline, the way your hair was slightly damp from the stage lights. Then, without a word, she reached up and dragged her thumb across your lower lip, slow and deliberate.

A shiver ran down your spine.

“You drive me to madness,” she murmured, her voice impossibly smooth, like velvet and steel wrapped into one. "And you know it."

The air between you thickened, the tension sharp enough to cut. You swallowed, throat suddenly dry, but you refused to back down. “Maybe I do.”

Her fingers traced lower, featherlight, trailing over your pulse, her touch both gentle and possessive. “And what should I do with you now?”

The question sent a delicious shiver down your spine, but before you could answer, her lips brushed against yours—not quite a kiss, just a ghost of contact, enough to send heat pooling low in your stomach.

Then she pulled away.

“Come home with me,” she murmured, voice softer now, quieter. “I’d rather have your voice just for myself tonight.”

Your breath hitched.

You could handle teasing, the playful power struggles, the tension, but this? This was something deeper.

This was Mel Medarda wanting you—not just to chase, not just to possess, but to be with you.

And for the first time tonight, you were the one caught off guard.

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

Viktor.

Viktor wasn’t one for loud crowds.

He wasn’t the type to thrive in the flashing lights, the deafening cheers, or the overwhelming press of bodies all moving as one. He spent his days buried in blueprints and research, lost in the quiet hum of his own thoughts.

But for you?

He would endure the storm.

Because even though concerts weren’t his scene, you were.

So now, he found himself standing at the edge of the stage, tucked away from the madness of the crowd, cane resting against his leg as he watched you move under the lights.

And damn—you were breathtaking.

Not just because of how you looked up there, all fire and confidence, a force commanding the attention of an entire stadium. But because this—this—was your element. The way your body moved with the music, the way your voice carried through the speakers, raw and unfiltered, sent something sharp curling in his chest.

Viktor had spent his life chasing brilliance, seeking genius in numbers and theories. But tonight, you were the most brilliant thing he’d ever seen.

The song shifted into something slower, the guitars easing into a sultry rhythm, and you turned just slightly—just enough that your eyes found him through the haze of stage lights.

Viktor barely had time to react before you did something utterly, devastatingly reckless.

You jumped down.

Right off the damn stage.

The crowd roared, and Viktor’s heart nearly stopped as security scrambled, but you just laughed, weaving through the fans like you belonged among them. The sea of people parted for you, hands reaching, voices calling, but you weren’t stopping for them.

You were walking straight to him.

Viktor’s grip on his cane tightened. His brain short-circuited as you strode through the VIP section with that effortless, infuriating confidence—grinning, sweat still clinging to your skin from the stage lights, a live wire of energy.

Then you were there, standing in front of him, so close he could see every rapid rise and fall of your chest.

“Thought you weren’t coming,” you murmured, voice teasing, but your eyes—your eyes were something else.

Viktor swallowed thickly, forcing himself to breathe. “Somehow, I think you would’ve found me anyway.”

Your grin widened. “Of course I would.”

And before he could get another word in, before he could even process what was happening, you grabbed the front of his vest and kissed him.

The crowd screamed.

The music surged.

And Viktor? Viktor forgot how to think.

Your lips were warm, demanding, still buzzing with the adrenaline of the performance. He knew he should pull away, should say something, do something, but all he could do was brace himself against his cane and fall into you.

You broke away just enough to whisper, “You look good in the spotlight.”

Viktor let out something between a laugh and a groan, shaking his head as heat curled at the tips of his ears. “I think you might be trying to kill me.”

You pressed another kiss to the corner of his mouth, softer this time. “Not yet.”

Then, just as quickly as you came, you stepped back, flashing him one last wicked grin before turning and jogging right back onto the damn stage.

Viktor exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, his mind struggling to catch up.

The scientist in him despised the lack of logic in how you made him feel.

But the man in him?

He was completely, utterly ruined for you.

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

Caitlyn kiramman

Caitlyn had been raised in a world of refinement—strict etiquette, hushed conversations over expensive wine, and appearances that had to be meticulously maintained.

Which is why she had no idea what the hell she was doing here.

The room throbbed with bass, the crowd a sea of energy, bodies pressed together as the lights cast dazzling colors across the venue. The air smelled like sweat, spilled drinks, and electricity.

And yet, despite the overwhelming chaos of it all, Caitlyn couldn’t focus on anything but you.

You, standing on that stage, confidence oozing from every motion, every note you sang, every teasing smirk you shot toward the audience.

You weren’t just performing—you were owning the damn room.

Caitlyn knew she was staring, but she didn’t care.

She had been raised to maintain her composure, to keep her emotions in check. But watching you up there, commanding thousands of people’s attention, only to flick your gaze right at her between verses? It did something dangerous to her.

She should have been used to it by now. You flirted with everyone—the audience, the cameras, your bandmates. It was just part of your stage persona.

But damn it, when you locked eyes with her and winked before hitting the next note, Caitlyn felt her heart stutter.

She needed a drink.

---

The concert ended in a blur of flashing lights and roaring applause, but Caitlyn didn’t move from her spot near the back.

She waited.

Security was already guiding you off the stage, fans still chanting your name as you disappeared behind the curtains.

A moment later, her earpiece crackled.

"Your VIP pass still gets you back here, Kiramman."

She rolled her eyes at the teasing lilt in your voice but didn’t hesitate to slip past the barriers, her polished boots clicking against the concrete floor as she strode toward your dressing room.

She found you exactly how she expected—leaning against the vanity, still glowing from the performance, towel draped over your shoulders, hair damp with sweat.

And grinning at her.

“You should really sit further up next time,” you mused, tilting your head as she stepped inside. “I could barely see you from back there.”

Caitlyn scoffed, crossing her arms. “I was trying not to be a distraction.”

Your smirk widened. “Oh, love, you think you’re the distraction?”

She arched a brow. “Considering you nearly tripped over a speaker when you saw me in the audience last time?”

You let out a groan, dragging a hand down your face. “That was one time—”

“—And the crew hasn’t let you live it down since.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, but the corners of your lips twitched. “Okay, detective. You win this round.”

She took a step closer, tilting her head. “There are rounds now?”

“Always.” You leaned in, lowering your voice. “And I fully intend to even the score.”

Caitlyn felt her pulse quicken, but she kept her expression unreadable. “And how do you plan to do that?”

Without missing a beat, you reached for the towel on your shoulders and, with an utterly shameless grin, tossed it at her.

Caitlyn let out a startled noise as the damp fabric smacked against her, the heat from your skin still clinging to it.

You laughed—really laughed, the sound warm and utterly carefree—before stepping closer, plucking the towel from her hands before she could react. “Don’t look so scandalized, officer. I thought you’d be used to a little sweat.”

Caitlyn narrowed her eyes, but her lips betrayed her, curving into something dangerously close to a smirk. “Oh, I don’t mind a little sweat.”

Your eyebrows lifted in interest, but before you could throw out another flirty remark, she turned the tables on you.

She reached forward, grabbing the front of your shirt, and yanked you in.

Your breath hitched as she leaned in, voice dropping to a murmur against your ear.

“You’re still a bit breathless,” she noted, feigning concern. “Hope I wasn’t too much of a distraction.”

You swallowed hard. “You’re always a distraction.”

Her smirk widened. “Good.”

Then, before you could regain control of the situation, she pressed a kiss to the edge of your jaw—just enough to leave you completely off balance—before stepping back with an infuriating amount of poise.

You blinked. “You little shit—”

“See you at the next show,” she said smoothly, already walking toward the door.

And just as she reached for the handle, she threw one last glance over her shoulder, smirking.

“Score: Kiramman—one.”

Then she was gone, leaving you standing in the middle of the dressing room, utterly wrecked.

“...Oh, it is so on.”

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

Vi.

Vi wasn’t exactly used to this kind of scene.

Sure, she’d been to her fair share of rowdy clubs and underground fights—places where the air buzzed with adrenaline and the energy made your bones vibrate.

But this?

This was a whole different kind of chaos.

She stood at the very edge of the packed venue, arms crossed, boots planted firmly on the ground as she watched you command the stage like you were born for it.

And damn—maybe you were.

Vi wasn’t the type to get all poetic, but shit, you were a sight.

Sweat clung to your skin under the flashing lights, your voice carried through the speakers with that raw edge that made people feel something. Every movement, every glance, every grin sent the crowd into a frenzy.

And the way you owned it?

It made her chest tighten in the best and worst ways.

Because while everyone else in the room was watching you like you were some untouchable star, she knew the version of you that crawled into bed at ridiculous hours, the one who bitched about setlists and late-night rehearsals, the one who stole her shirts and stretched them out just to mess with her.

And yet, every time she saw you up there, looking like you belonged in this chaos, she found herself falling all over again.

Which was why she wasn’t even surprised when you did something completely reckless.

Because, of course, you did.

---

You should have known better.

Vi was already giving you that look from the sidelines—the one that screamed, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

Naturally, you did something stupid.

“Let’s make this interesting,” you called into the mic, and the crowd roared as you hopped off the stage without warning, security scrambling to keep up.

Vi groaned, running a hand down her face. You are going to be the death of me.

You waded through the crowd effortlessly, high-fiving fans, grinning as people reached out, soaking in the energy. And then—just to push your luck—you made your way straight toward her.

Vi could feel the heat of a thousand eyes on her the moment you grinned and grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her forward.

“C’mon, Vi,” you purred into the mic, the teasing lilt in your voice making her stomach drop. “You’re not scared of a little fun, are you?”

Vi arched a brow. “Oh, you’re a menace.”

But she let you pull her in anyway.

The band picked up a steady rhythm, and before she could even process what was happening, you slid an arm around her waist and—

Oh.

You were dancing with her.

Not just moving—dancing. Slow, teasing movements, your body pressed against hers, the heat of your skin seeping through the thin material of her shirt. The crowd screamed, people losing their minds as you twirled her once, keeping your grip firm.

Vi could handle fights, she could handle explosions, she could handle damn near anything—

But this?

This was just unfair.

She should be annoyed. She should be cussing you out for pulling this stunt in front of thousands of people.

Instead, she found herself smirking.

“You’re playing with fire, babe,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear.

You grinned. “Lucky for me, you’re fireproof.”

Oh, you were gonna pay for that.

With a wicked glint in her eye, Vi suddenly flipped the script—yanking you flush against her, dipping you low enough that you gasped into the mic.

The crowd lost their minds.

And then—just because she could—Vi dipped her head and kissed you, deep and slow, right there in front of everyone.

You barely had time to recover before she pulled back with a smirk, letting go just as fast as she’d grabbed you.

“Better get back up there, rockstar,” she teased, stepping back as you blinked up at her, dazed. “You’ve got a show to finish.”

You swallowed hard, eyes flickering between her and the screaming crowd.

“…Holy shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Vi just winked.

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

Jinx.

"Beautiful, Beautiful Chaos" (Jinx x Rockstar!GN!Reader | Reckless Love, Wild Nights, and Kissing in the Mayhem)

---

Jinx wasn’t the type to sit still.

Not in a fight, not during a job, and definitely not in a crowd of sweaty, screaming people losing their minds over you.

She thrived in chaos, lived for it, breathed it in like air.

And tonight?

Tonight was the kind of chaos she loved.

Neon lights flashed across the stage, strobes flickering as you jumped onto an amp, mic gripped tight in your hand, voice cutting through the thick, electric air of the underground venue. The bass thundered through the floor, shaking the ground beneath her feet.

Jinx wasn’t watching the crowd.

She was watching you.

Because—fuck—you looked so good when you lost yourself in the music. When you screamed into the mic, when your body moved like you didn’t care if the world fell apart around you.

You had that wild look in your eyes.

The same kind of reckless, untamed spark that made her chest tighten and her pulse race.

God, you were so—

“YO, YOU LITTLE SHITS WANNA HAVE SOME FUN?”

Your voice rang out over the speakers, wild and breathless.

The crowd roared.

Jinx grinned.

Oh, she knew that tone. That devious, impulsive tone that meant things were about to get stupid.

And Jinx loved stupid.

She pushed herself up on her toes, trying to get a better view as you suddenly jumped off the damn stage—barreling straight into the crowd, no hesitation, no security, just pure adrenaline-fueled insanity.

"OH, FOR FUCK’S SAKE—"

Jinx shoved her way forward as you disappeared into the chaos, people screaming, hands grabbing for you, the whole place erupting into something unhinged.

A bottle smashed somewhere. Someone tripped over a speaker. A guy with a mohawk straight-up passed out from excitement.

And in the middle of it?

You.

Grinning like a maniac, letting the crowd carry you, singing the last chorus like you didn’t have a single fucking care in the world.

Jinx didn’t even realize she was moving until she was right there in front of you—arms crossed, head tilted, looking so unimpressed despite the fact that she was definitely impressed.

You grinned, still breathless. “What’s wrong, trouble? Didn’t think I’d come to you instead?”

Jinx rolled her eyes. “You’re insane.”

“Yeah?” You leaned in,“You like it.”

Jinx didn’t like it.

Jinx loved it.

But she’d rather die than say it out loud.

So instead, she did what she did best.

She grabbed your face and kissed you stupid.

Right there.

In the middle of the chaos, with neon lights flashing and people screaming and beer spilling onto the floor.

You gasped into her mouth before melting into it, arms sliding around her waist, your body pressing flush against hers like you wanted to burn the moment into your skin.

And Jinx?

Jinx just smirked against your lips.

Because, yeah.

Maybe she did like this.

Maybe she loved it.

And maybe—just maybe—she was never gonna let you go.

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

Sevika.

The venue was packed, the air thick with anticipation. You had the crowd eating out of the palm of your hand, your voice cutting through the bass, a raw, magnetic presence on stage. The lights flickered in sync with the beat, flashing as your body moved effortlessly with the rhythm, the mic gripped in your hand like you were born to hold it.

And Sevika? Well, she was front and center, standing just off to the side, watching you with an intensity that almost felt suffocating. Her posture was rigid, her arms crossed, her gaze never once leaving you.

Her heavy, leather-clad frame was nearly a stark contrast to your energy—wild, chaotic, and untamed as you commanded the stage. But you knew what she was thinking. Knew that under all that tough exterior, there was a fire. A fire that you had kindled long ago.

And tonight? That fire was burning brighter than ever.

---

The song ended, and the crowd erupted into a roaring applause. You took a breath, your chest heaving with exertion, sweat dripping down your neck. But you weren’t done yet.

With a wicked grin, you grabbed the mic, looking straight at Sevika.

“You think you can keep up, big girl?” you teased, voice dripping with playful arrogance.

Sevika’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was a cold, almost predatory glint in her eyes. “I could do this all day,” she muttered, her voice low, the words meant just for you.

The crowd was still cheering, but all you cared about in that moment was the tension that was crackling between you and Sevika. You’d both been dancing around it for so long—the chemistry, the constant pull, the teasing glances, the silent challenges that never seemed to break. But tonight? Tonight you were done playing games.

You took a few steps toward the edge of the stage, reaching out for her, pulling her closer. The crowd was still lost in the music, the band riffing off to the side, but all that mattered now was her—her and the way she looked at you like she wanted to devour you whole.

Sevika’s large hand gripped your wrist with a firm, almost possessive force, pulling you into her space. She towered over you, but her breath was steady, controlled, as if she was trying to hold back a flood of desire.

“You think you can just waltz in here and—”

Before she could finish, you closed the distance, your lips crashing into hers. The kiss was fierce, hungry—no longer playful, but desperate. Your body pressed against hers, and you could feel the tension in her muscles, the way she resisted just enough to drive you crazy. But you weren’t having it. You needed her. And you weren’t going to stop until you had her.

Sevika’s hand slid down your back, gripping your waist with a force that left your breath stolen. She pulled you closer, her lips moving against yours with urgency, heat building between you both. Her other hand threaded into your hair, tugging you even closer, pulling you deeper into the kiss like she couldn’t get enough.

You gasped when she bit your lip, just enough to make you shiver. “You’re playing with fire,” Sevika growled, her voice raw, breath hot against your skin.

And all you could do was smirk up at her, feeling the thrill of the chase. “I’ve never been afraid of fire,” you whispered back.

Without warning, Sevika spun you around, pushing you against the nearest wall backstage, her body pressing against yours, heat radiating off of her. She leaned in close, her lips brushing your ear as her breath ghosted over your skin. “If you think this is just a game,” she murmured, “you’re wrong.”

Your hands found their way to her chest, tracing the muscles hidden beneath her leather jacket. “Then stop playing and show me,” you dared her, your voice low, taunting.

The air between you crackled with electric tension, both of you pushing, pulling, testing the boundaries until it felt like something was going to break. Sevika’s lips hovered dangerously close to yours, her breathing ragged, as if she was barely holding herself together.

And then she leaned in, capturing your lips again, deeper this time—no more teasing, no more games. It was as if the kiss itself was a release, a breaking point of every silent moment between you, every want you both kept locked away.

When she finally pulled away, she smirked down at you, her voice a dangerous whisper, “This is just the beginning, sweetheart.” Her hands were already trailing down your sides, her lips just inches from yours, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

---

Back on stage, you finished the set with a wicked grin. You knew you’d both be facing the aftermath of that moment soon. But for now, the music carried on, and you knew Sevika was right where she belonged—on the edge of control.

And you? You were done being patient. Tonight, there would be no more running from this intensity.

The chaos had only just begun.

[oldsoul007]

kiss me

grumpy!joel miller x reader

summary: Joel despises the superficiality of Valentine’s Day, and you, a hopeless romantic who adores love in all its forms, find your friendship tested when you spend Valentine’s week together as single friends, only to discover unexpected feelings that blur the line between friendship and love.

a/n: a little valentine story for yall 💞

joel miller masterlist

Valentine’s week was my favorite time of year. Everything felt lighter, softer—like the world was wrapped in a warm, pink haze. Even if most people thought it was cheesy, I loved it. Love letters, heart-shaped candies, couples holding hands—it made me believe that love, real love, was still out there.

Joel Miller didn’t share that belief.

“Don’t even start,” Joel grumbled the moment he picked up my call, his deep, tired voice crackling through the phone.

I grinned, curling up on my couch with a cup of coffee. “Start what?” I teased, already picturing the irritated look on his face. “I was just calling to check on my favorite Valentine’s Grinch.”

He let out a long sigh, and I bit back a laugh.

“What do you want, y/n?”

“Well,” I drew out the word, knowing exactly how much he’d hate what I was about to say. “We’re both single this year. Why don’t we spend Valentine’s week together?”

There was a beat of silence. I imagined him blinking in disbelief.

“You’re joking.”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” I insisted. “Movies, takeout, no pressure. And who knows? Maybe I’ll even convince you that love isn’t as terrible as you think it is.”

“Not happening,” he muttered, but I heard the faintest smile in his voice.

“Is that a yes?” I pressed, holding my breath.

Another long sigh, then—“Fine. But don’t expect me to wear anything pink.”

I laughed, my heart fluttering. “Deal.”

The next few days felt like walking a tightrope.

We spent almost every moment together, but never crossed the line. We did all the things couples do—late-night drives with music humming softly in the background, sharing breakfasts at the little diner on Main Street, walking through the park while I pointed out every couple holding hands just to watch Joel roll his eyes.

But neither of us said it. Neither of us dared to admit what was simmering beneath the surface.

“This is exhausting,” Joel muttered as we sat on a park bench, sipping coffee.

“What is?” I asked, smiling into my cup.

“All of this. People pretending for a week that they’re in love.”

I nudged his shoulder playfully. “Not everyone’s pretending, you know.”

He scoffed. “Name one couple that ain’t puttin’ on a show.”

I didn’t even have to think. “My grandparents.”

Joel raised an eyebrow.

“They’ve been together for 53 years,” I said softly, my smile turning wistful. “They met in college. My grandpa still brings her flowers every Friday. And she still laughs at all his bad jokes.”

Joel let out a low hum, like he wasn’t sure if he believed me.

“I’m not saying it’s common,” I added, reading his mind. “But just because it’s rare doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

He glanced at me then, his gaze lingering a little too long, a little too soft. My breath caught, but I looked away before my feelings betrayed me.

One afternoon, we ended up in the bookstore downtown, wandering through the aisles. Joel found himself in the history section, while I was drawn to the romance novels, of course.

“You’re really gonna read one of those?” he asked, leaning against the shelf with a teasing smirk.

“Yes, Joel,” I shot back, holding up a book with a dramatic cover. “It’s called escapism. You should try it sometime.”

“I’ll stick to the real world, thanks.”

“Where love doesn’t exist?” I teased.

“Exactly.”

I sighed dramatically, shaking my head. “You’re hopeless.”

As we walked out, I couldn’t help myself. I nodded toward an older couple sitting on a bench, their hands intertwined, lost in their own little world.

“Look at them,” I whispered. “Don’t tell me that’s not real.”

Joel followed my gaze, but said nothing. I wished I knew what he was thinking.

It started with a simple plan—cook dinner, keep things light, pretend my heart wasn’t on the verge of bursting every time Joel Miller looked at me.

I wasn’t exactly a gourmet chef, but I knew my way around a kitchen well enough to whip up something decent. Joel sat at the counter, watching me with an amused expression, a beer in hand.

“You sure you’re not gonna burn the place down?” he teased.

I shot him a playful glare. “I’m perfectly capable, thank you very much.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. I, on the other hand, was trying not to melt under the weight of his gaze.

I turned on some music to fill the silence, letting the soft strum of a guitar filter through the room. And then it happened—one of my favorite love songs started playing. A soft, sweet melody that made my chest ache.

“Uh-oh,” Joel muttered, already sensing what was coming.

I grinned, turning to face him. “Dance with me.”

“Y/n…” he warned, shaking his head.

“Please?” I stretched out the word, giving him my best pleading eyes. “For me?”

He let out a long sigh, but when I reached out my hand, he took it without a fight.

His hand was warm as he pulled me close, his touch gentle despite the roughness of his calloused fingers. We swayed in my tiny kitchen, the smell of dinner forgotten, the music weaving around us like a secret only we knew.

“This is ridiculous,” he whispered, but there was a softness in his voice, in the way his hand rested on my waist.

“Maybe,” I whispered back, resting my head lightly on his shoulder. “But it’s nice, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. I could feel it—the way his grip tightened ever so slightly, the way his breath hitched when I leaned in closer.

For a moment, it felt like we weren’t pretending anymore. Like the feelings we never spoke about were real, tangible.

When the song ended, Joel pulled back slowly, his eyes lingering on mine. The air between us crackled with something unspoken.

“Dinner’s gonna burn,” he muttered, clearing his throat as he stepped away.

I laughed softly, but my heart still ached.

Because even when we danced around our feelings, I knew the truth.

Valentine’s Day arrived quietly, the way it always did.

I felt like I was losing my grip. Every smile, every lingering glance, every time Joel’s hand brushed against mine felt like it was unraveling me.

When I opened my apartment door that morning to find Joel standing there—grumpy expression firmly in place—holding a small bouquet of wildflowers, I froze.

“Uh… these are for you,” he mumbled, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.

I stared at the flowers, then at him, trying to process the fact that Joel Miller—the man who swore up and down that Valentine’s Day was nothing but a commercial scam—was holding flowers for me.

“Is this a joke?” I teased, even though my heart was racing.

“Do you want ‘em or not?” he grumbled, shoving them toward me.

I laughed softly, taking the bouquet from his hands. “They’re beautiful, Joel. Thank you.”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… you like this kinda thing. Figured you deserved somethin’ nice.”

My chest tightened at his words. Joel Miller, who claimed not to believe in love, had just done something more thoughtful than any grand gesture ever could be.

That night, we ended up back at my apartment, a bottle of wine between us, laughing over old memories.

“I don’t get it,” Joel said, leaning back on the couch, his voice quieter now. “You got your heart broken—bad—and you still believe in all this love stuff.”

I swallowed hard, the memory of my past relationship still a dull ache. “Because I know what it feels like to be loved, Joel. Even if it wasn’t forever. And I know what it feels like to be alone, too.”

He looked at me then, something unreadable in his eyes. “You’re not alone,” he whispered.

And for a moment, I let myself believe him.

The night felt endless, every moment stretching out between us like a question neither of us wanted to answer.

I could feel Joel beside me, the weight of his presence grounding me, but also unraveling me. The flowers he’d given me sat on the table, delicate and unexpected, just like him.

“Joel,” I whispered, barely able to hear my own voice over the pounding of my heart.

He turned to me, eyes darker than usual, something unreadable flickering in them.

I opened my mouth to say something—anything—but before I could, Joel was already moving.

His hand cupped my face, rough fingertips trailing along my jaw, and then his lips were on mine.

This wasn’t a tentative kiss. This wasn’t careful. This was Joel Miller finally giving in, finally letting go of every wall he had built around his heart.

His mouth pressed urgently against mine, and I melted into him, my hands gripping his shirt as if holding on for dear life. His other hand slid around my waist, pulling me closer until there was no space left between us.

I felt everything in that kiss—every unspoken word, every moment we’d danced around our feelings, every piece of him he’d kept hidden from the world.

When we broke apart, breathless, Joel rested his forehead against mine, his voice rough and low.

“I can’t fight it anymore,” he whispered. “I don’t want to.”

I swallowed hard, my heart aching in the best way. “Then don’t.”

He kissed me again, softer this time, but with the same intensity, the same longing that had always been there—waiting for us to finally stop pretending.

In that moment, I knew. Joel Miller didn’t just care for me.

He loved me.

[rising-starrr]

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲ō𝐦𝐞𝐧 - 𝐂𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜é !

warnings : Sukuna has never celebrated Valentine’s Day at all, he spoils you, you two end off the night with sex, jealousy - a servant tries giving you chocolate, killing, true-form! Sukuna, he has two cocks, and can spawn tongues anywhere, he overstimulates you, pet names - princess, ‘pet’, he calls you wife even though y’all aren’t even married yet. Mating press, breeding, DP, P in V, public sex, and more that will come up. afab!reader implied, female pronouns, poc!reader.

(a’s note ! - there’s porn links hidden in here, hope you find them ! y’all gonna be reading books at night so ima say this now, y’all got light, idk how but yall got light.)

𐙚 It was February 14th. Which meant it was Valentine's Day, so you decided to decorate one of the many rooms throughout the household that Sukuna said you could use whenever you were mad at him.

you knew he wouldn't really care for this type of stuff since he always said it was ‘foolish mortal stuff’ but then again he did celebrate everything with you if you asked nicely, or threatened him. Only he knows when he wants to be nice to you.

“wife. what are you doing?” you hear sukuna say from behind you, you don’t jump or anything you’ve gotten used to him appearing out of nowhere. “I’m decorating Ryõmen, what does it look like?” You question.

Ryōmen remembers when you two were being so affectionate, he love when you two are getting it on and that’s always what causes him to zone out when he’s looking at your sweet ass. “What? Don’t get smart with me brat.”

He simply rolls his eyes and walks over towards you. “we’re going out tonight. Be ready in an hour.” He says, not allowing you to respond before he leaves back out.

𐙚 You got ready in that hour he gave you, wearing a dress he had recently brought you. “Ryōmen. What do you think?” You question, spinning in a circle as you approach him. He just gave you a small nod, before fixing his tie and turning to you, he thought you looked beautiful.

He planned to take you to a restaurant, and afterwards he was going to take you to the beach, of course at a time when no one else was there that way he can be alone with you, though of course he would never act on it without you consenting.

He would hope you wouldn’t be a brat tonight, that way he doesn’t have to gag you like usual during your little acts. “Ryōmen! I’ve been calling your damn name for ten minutes, are we leaving or not?” You question, finally seeing him snap out of whatever daze he was in. He just nods, and grabs your hand, taking you outside to the car.

One of the driver’s opens the door for you and him, and allows you two to get in the car, before going back to the driver’s side and driving off to the restaurant. Once the car stops, Sukuna puts a blindfold over your eyes and leads you inside the restaurant. He sits you down before taking off the blindfold.

It was a neatly decorated Valentine’s Day themed booth, that he personally decorated just for you, he wanted everything to be perfect just for you. “Do you like it wife?” He questioned, sitting down as he puts the present he brought you on the table and pushed it towards you.

You nod and begin to open the present, pausing before you continue to ask for confirmation to open. He gives you a small nod, gesturing you to open it for him. you listen and begin to open the present. It was a camera, a promise ring, a new bathing suit, an anklet with his initials and yours, a necklace with his initials, and earrings.

“Oh! This is quite a lot, but thank you Ryōmen, I love you so much.” You murmured, storing it in the bag he brought with the two of you. He just grunts and orders the two of you food, allowing you to get whatever you want.

𐙚 After you two ate, he took you to a nearby beach. Now you see what he brought you a new bathing suit for. you take the bathing suit and go change, it wasn't as windy as it normally was tonight.

When you finally came out the bathroom, he had set up multiple towels so you two would be comfortable. He was currently sitting down on the towels, his head resting on his arm as he read the book he brought along.

He looks up, seeing you finally came out the bathroom, he moves the book, and pats the spot next to him, signaling for you to sit down. you sit down next to him and hum.

“took you long enough brat, now you wanna go get in the water with me or you wanna stay here?” he questioned, waiting for your answer before getting up, all you did was stay seated as a single you wanted to stay at the towels. “Let’s stay here.” You say, laying on your stomach as you began to read a book.

He felt horny just looking at your backside. He hums and grabs you and forces you onto your hands and needs. “Can I?” He questions, waiting for your nod of approval. And you give him the nod of approval.

He grins and pulls down your underwear, and pushes down his boxers and swim shorts. He does a few lazy strokes before positioning himself at your entrance.

You let out a moan, allowing him to push himself inside of you as you two fucked in a public space. Luckily no one was around. His hands gripped your hips, trying to angle himself deeper inside of you as just you just hoped your arms wouldn’t give out or your legs in this moment.

“Feeling good?” He questioned, as he bent down and covering your neck in kisses. You just let out a moan mixed with a shudder. Of course you felt good, he was fucking you so nicely on the beach, you didn’t have a care in the world if you two got caught.

He just kept thrusting until you came on his cocks, eventually cumming right after you did. He picks you up, wraps a towel around you and puts you in the car as he grabs the rest of you guys' stuff and goes to the car.

He mumbles an I love you to you, and allows you to fall asleep on his lap until you get home. Once you two get home, he washes you up and lays you in bed. “Happy Valentine's Day, my wife.”

He lovesssss when your small body is taking his big cock.

Sukuna might have to put a baby in you after all.

You were needy while in the car so he fucked you while you two were being driven back to the mansion.

EDIT: pretend this was posted on Valentine’s Day at 12am !!

Tagged: @babyblue0t7 - technically another part to the other things since I never did Sukuna 💗 Oops.. you already saw it😭😭

[watchmegetobsessed]

LITTLE NERDY VALENTINE

A/N: one day late, but here's a bit of valentine's day cuteness with fratry bc i've been thinking a lot about him lately

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

SUMMARY: Harry wants to celebrate Valentine's Day, but you're not a fan of his plans of going out and you have your reasons for that, but talking about them is not easy, so it causes some frustration.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

“So, what do you want to do on Friday?” 

Harry is lying on your bed with a textbook lying open over his chest, but he hasn’t read a single word of it in the last hour, he’s been too busy playing on his phone while you were sitting at your desk, working on a paper that’s due next week. He came over to study, but you both knew you’d be doing all the studying, you actually have no idea how Harry has good grades. 

“Friday? What’s on Friday?” you hum, still typing away on your computer, pretending to be oblivious.

“You know…” He draws out the words, sitting up so his back is against the wall. He puts the textbook aside, closing it, done pretending he is actually reading any of it. 

“Hm?” You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen, but you can feel Harry’s burning eyes on your back. 

“Y/N, it’s Valentine’s Day,” he chuckles, giving up the game. “We are having a Cupid’s Party at the frat house, but if you want to go out, maybe have dinner or something I’m down.”

“Uh, I don’t know…” 

“Or we can go to the movies, I’m willing to watch that new romcom with you, if you want.”

“Harry…” Sighing you give up and finally turn with your chair to look at him, but you wish you didn’t because he is giving you those puppy eyes he knows you can’t resist and he is hugging your pink fluffy pillow like a little kid. 

“Y/N?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out.”

You catch the tiny wince that twitches his lips, but he recovers quickly. You were really hoping you could avoid this conversation today, though part of you knew it would come up, since it’s Wednesday, only 2 days until Valentine’s Day. 

His eyes jump down at the pillow as he starts fumbling with it, like a hurt kid who just got told no. 

“Harry…”

“Are we ever gonna leave this room and act like a real couple?” 

“Don’t start this again, please…”

“I just understand, Y/N,” he groans as he looks up at you again. “We’ve been together for over two months and I haven’t even held your hand in public.”

“That’s not true, you held my hand when–”

“When we were hiking in the middle of the woods so no one could see us. Yeah, you’re right,” he scoffs. 

“We’ve talked about this,” you say, looking down at your lap as the guilt bubbles in your gut. 

“Actually, we haven’t. You just keep telling me you need more time, but never really explain why or what bothers you. I’m trying to be patient, but I really want to take our relationship out of this tiny dorm room.” He gestures around your room where you spend the majority of your time together with him. 

Chewing on your bottom lip you just keep picking on your chipped nail polish, not looking at him, but then he climbs to the edge of the bed so he is sitting right in front of you. He lifts your chin gently, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong? I’m more than happy to wait for you, but I need to know a bit more.” He places a hand to your thigh, reassuringly rubbing it as he waits for you to say something. 

“I’m just… I don’t know, I like that it’s just the two of us.”

“Bullshit. It would still be just us.”

Ugh, you hate how well he knows you, you can’t lie to him, but you’re not willing to tell him the truth either. 

“Can we just not talk about this right now? I really need to finish this pa–”

“Y/N, stop avoiding this, please. You know you can tell me anything.”

He is looking at you, waiting and expecting, but you just can’t give him what he wants. His gaze keeps flickering between your eyes, hoping you’d finally open up, but you keep your mouth shut. And then he loses his patience.

“Alright then,” he whispers, jumping up to gather his things, showing everything into his backpack.

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching him tug the zipper angrily before swinging the bag over one shoulder. 

“I can’t do this, Y/N. I don’t want to hide and not even know why. You wouldn’t tell me what bothers you, so I have to draw my own conclusions and want to know what all of this seems like to me? Like you don’t want to be seen with me, like you’re ashamed of being with me.”

“Harry, that’s not true,” you protest, standing from your chair. 

“Then what is it?”

You open your mouth, but your voice dies in your throat. Unfortunately, Harry takes that as your answer. 

“Okay. Call me when you’re willing to talk.”

And with that, he is out of the room. 

A couples’ party might not have been the best place to be today for Harry, but the thought of easing his mind with a few rounds of beerpong was good enough to make him leave his room and join the party. 

Cupid’s Party usually has two groups of people: the happy couples, attached by the hip, eating each other’s face off and the single people getting wasted, hoping to at least hook up with someone. Currently Harry doesn’t feel like he belongs to any of these groups.

He assesses the living room over the rim of his red solo cup and tries his best to ignore the pain in his chest at the sight of all the happy couples in matching outfits, celebrating their love. In the beginning of the week he was still hoping he and you might be one of them, but things didn’t turn out to be the way he planned. 

After the fight in your room you texted him, asking him to come back, but he made it clear he wouldn’t be doing that unless you’re willing to talk.

Which you werent, so it’s been radio silence since then. 

He had to stop himself from texting or calling you like a million times, it’s been quite the fight since Wednesday, he’s been missing you like crazy, but he is also determined to finally move forward. 

“You alright man?” Niall pats him on the back with a cup in his own hand that smells so much of alcohol that Harry can’t stop himself from wrinkling his nose. While he likes to have drinks, he is often surprised how some of his friends in the house haven’t died of alcohol poisoning.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he nods with a sigh. 

“Uhuh, that’s why you’ve been moping around for days, right?” Niall laughs.

“I have not–”

“I have not been moping, you arse!” Niall mocks him, which he finds hilarious, but Harry just rolls his eyes and takes a swig from your drink. “Alright, if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push it, but if you feel like you need a shoulder, you can come to me.”

“I know,” Harry sighs. “Thanks, I’ll just get a refill for now,” he says, holding up his cup. Niall nods and they go their separate way.

Harry fights through the crowd towards the kitchen and tries his best not to get stopped by drunk girls that are more than eager to hook up with him tonight. He would love to tell them he is taken, but he can’t. Even despite the fight you had, he still doesn’t want to go against your will and tell everyone that you’re dating. 

The kitchen is a mess, but he quickly finds the tequila and then mixes it with some pineapple juice, then he stops by the pizza and grabs a slice so his stomach wouldn’t be completely empty. Though his original plan was to get drunk, but now he is not feeling that, so this is probably his last drink, since he is starting to feel a bit dizzy. 

Leaning against the counter he is debating if he should just go back to his room and spend the rest of the night playing video games, but then he spots an all too familiar face in the crowd outside in the hallway. 

You look very uncomfortable, navigating between the half drunk people while looking like you’re searching for someone. Harry puts his pizza slice down right away and he just starts moving towards you when he sees a guy bumping into you, making your shoulder hit the wall.

“Ah, sorry sweetheart, you alright?” the guy asks and his hand is already on your arm, leaning way closer than you’d like him to.

“It’s okay Dave, I got her.” Harry pats him on the back in a friendly manner, though inside he is fuming at the way he is looking at you right now, like he is ready to peel you out of your clothes. 

“Harry, hey! I was just–”

“I know, I got her,” Harry repeats, this time with a tougher look at the guy, which he finally notices so he just nods and wanders away. “Are you okay?” he asks, finally looking at you, keeping one hand on your elbow.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Can we talk?” you ask and Harry nods right away, moving his hand to the small of your back, guiding you upstairs, towards his room. 

You’ve been to his frat house, you actually met him at a party here, but you’ve never been to his room. If the other boys saw you coming and going from his room it would have been quite obvious there’s something going on between the two of you, so you usually stayed at your dorm room where it was easier for Harry to sneak out without being noticed, that place is too big for anyone to notice him.

The hallway leading to his room is scattered with couples making out by the wall and you try not to stare at the pair that’s practically dry humping each other like they are in a private place. 

Harry unlocks his door with his keycard and then ushers you inside, finally shutting the noises of the party out. You’re curiously looking around the room that’s a lot tidier than you expected. Aside from a few clothes lying in the corner and two unwashed mugs on his night stand, it’s pretty neat. On his desk you notice the book you gifted him a week ago. You pick it up and open it where the bookmark is at around the third of the book and then you realize the bookmark is a polaroid of the two of you. It was taken the first time he slept in your room, your faces are mushed together as you laugh at something. You remember him taking a picture, but you weren’t expecting him to use it as his bookmark, which is such a sweet thing. 

He has been nothing but sweet to you and that just makes your guilt even worse for treating him the way you did. 

When you turn around you find him watching you with his hands in his pockets, just patiently waiting for you to start talking. 

“I’m sorry for making you feel like I’m ashamed of you. That was never the case and… yeah, I’m just really sorry.”

Harry nods, but then just keeps looking at you and you know he wants you to continue. So taking a deep breath you force yourself to keep talking before you chicken out. 

“I was actually thinking it was the other way around.”

That confuses him, he frowns but before he could ask anything you just continue.

“We are not really from the same crowd. You’re… You live in a frat house, you play football, people know you around campus while I’m more like just… a face in the crowd. I know it’s such a cliché, but I felt like that if people saw us together they would question why you’d go out with me a-and–Um… I just…”

“And you thought that I would also question why I’m with you?” he finishes what you couldn’t and you just nod, feeling your throat closing up. It’s been such a heavy weight on your chest the past weeks and now that you said it out loud it’s a relief but you’re also worried how Harry will think of you now. 

Then his eyes soften and stepping closer he gathers your hands between his palms, holding them to his chest. 

“Y/N, you realize this is not a movie where there are popular kids and nerds and they never talk?” he asks with a soft chuckle, making you laugh. 

“I know. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s just been haunting me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about it?”

“Because it’s ridiculous,” you repeat. “Deep down I knew it, but I just couldn’t help it. I thought that I could get rid of it with time, but I couldn’t and I swear I didn’t want to hurt you with all of this, it’s just that I can easily get into these… spirals and it’s so hard to get out of them.”

“I know,” he softly says and leaning closer he kisses your forehead. “I just wish you told me so I could help you.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay.”

Letting go of your hands he cups your cheeks in his palms as he pulls you in for a kiss while your hands fist the fabric of his shirt at his waist. He is sweet and gentle, his lips reassuring you that he is right here, with you. He rests his forehead against yours, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. 

“By the way, did you just call me a nerd?” you ask, opening your eyes, making Harry laugh with your words.

“Do you not fit the nerdy stereotype of romcoms?” he challenges you with a wide grin on his face.

“Well, I do study a lot and spend every other afternoon in the library.”

“See? You’re my little nerdy Valentine,” he arches an eyebrow and you just roll your eyes at him, but can’t help the smile that tugs on your lips. Then slowly, his expression turns more serious. “So what would you like to do now?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a sigh.

“Listen. If you need more time… I’m okay with that. I want you to feel comfortable and if that means that I have to convince you that no one will point fingers at us if they see us together, then that’s what I’ll do.”

You’ve known it from the beginning, but Harry just keeps proving that he is the right person for you and you couldn’t be more thankful for him. 

Leaning in you kiss him shortly. “I want to move forward, I’m just a bit scared.”

“Then you’ll lead us in whatever pace feels comfortable for you, okay?”

You nod and he kisses you again. 

“Do you want to go back down?” he asks, nodding towards the door. 

“Yeah, I would like that.”

Walking out of his room he locks the door and the two of you head back down and you notice that he is still keeping his distance from you, not trying to change everything all of a sudden. Returning to the kitchen he makes you a drink and he grabs another slice of pizza when Niall emerges from the crowd. 

“Hey, you’re still here! Thought you’d lock yourself up in your room soon,” he chuckles seeing Harry.

“You thought I’d bail?” Harry grins, leaning against the counter. Niall’s eyes move over to you.

“I think we haven’t met yet. I’m Niall.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand. You catch a look the two boys exchange and after that, Niall just smiles at Harry knowingly.

“Alright, I’ll be by the beerpong tables if you need me,” he waves before making his way out of the kitchen. 

“You have a bit of sauce there,” you point at Harry’s mouth smiling.

“Hm? Here?” he asks, wiping his lips, but he completely misses the spot, making you laugh. “Where?” he grins.

“Right there…” You raise a hand to help him out, but it stops midway when a thought pops into your mind and before you could talk yourself out of it, you lean in and kiss his lips. 

“Now you’re good,” you smile against his lips. Harry can’t contain his growing grin, because this was the first time you kissed him in front of other people. 

“I think it’s still there.”

“Oh yeah?” you chuckle at him.

“Yeah, all over my lips, everywhere.”

“Stop,” you roll your eyes at him laughing. He leans down and kisses you shortly before he continues eating his pizza, trying his best not to comment it when your hand sneaks into free hand, fingers lacing together.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[soleilapproves]

Hi can you please make boxer!Sukuna and boxer!Toji fighting for the reader's affection? Like they are close friends but when it comes to reader they just become competitive and rival to see who has her attention. OH AND THEY DO A BOXING MATCH TO SEE WHOEVER WINS GETS THE READER BUT NO ONE WINS AND THE READER TENDS TO THEM(sorry I yapped)

Of course I can <3

cw: fem!reader, light descriptions of fighting, jealousy and rivalry, not proofread (yet)

Toji ran his tongue along the cleft of his scar. His eyes raked down his face and pecs in the mirror as his Adam’s Apple bobbed in his throat.

He didn’t know why he was so nervous. Women usually fawned over him without him needing to give even a morsel of his attention. Free drinks at his side of the bar counter, hastily written numbers on lipstick marked tissues shoved lazily in the pocket of his jeans. He knew he was irresistible.

He just wasn’t sure if you, his friend and clueless crush, thought the same way about him. Blissfully unaware of how he’d constantly clear his throat to prevent his voice from embarrassingly cracking while speaking to you. He was so mortified the first time it happened that he didn’t look you in the eye for a whole week.

The man was tired of waiting and was going to ask you out no matter what. Friendship be damned, his feelings for you were growing stronger by the day, festering in the core of his chest every time you’d look up at him through your lashes.

While Toji was mentally prepping himself in locker room, Sukuna was sitting in the middle of the gym’s boxing ring, elbows resting on his knees with his head in his hands.

To say that he was in a dilemma was an understatement.

What’s worse than having an unrequited crush on your best friend? Knowing that your other friend and coincidental sparring partner, likes her too. For the past few days, Sukuna had his doubts that Toji had a crush on their friend, and it was soon confirmed when Toji didn’t help Sukuna up after defeating him in a practice match.

The dark haired man simply sauntered over to you, making sure to flex his sweaty abs as he wiped his face with a towel around his neck.

That sly motherfucker—

But Sukuna couldn’t blame him. He would’ve the same too. If it all came down to objectification, he would’ve happily posed for a cliche racy calendar as long as he knew you’d buy it.

“Can we talk?” Sukuna looked up to see Toji standing outside the ring. He was shirtless. He always did that when he knew you were coming over to watch a practice match.

Sukuna cursed under his breath as he got up, not bothering to leave the platform. His ego prevented him from feeling like Toji’s equal. His coach would never approve of his behavior.

“Look, I’m tired of pretending like we both don’t know how we feel about her.” Sukuna only shot daggers at Toji’s unfairly handsome face as he said that. The pink haired man was starting to think that he should’ve just gone to the nasty part of town to get a facial scar instead of tattoos.

He hated the way you’d always fawn over the story of how Toji got his scar. There was something so beautiful yet harrowing about seeing your eyebrows furrow and soft lips jut with a slight wobble over that man in particular.

“And I wanna let you know that I’m gonna tell her how I feel,” he added.

There weren’t a lot of things that surprised Sukuna. Hell, he wasn’t surprised when he realized Toji liked you too. Who wouldn’t? You’re a total sweetheart.

But Toji’s sudden urge to confess and seek a serious relationship was unexpected. Sukuna didn’t remember the last time the man had called a woman after taking her out on one date.

He didn’t want you to end up as just another number in his phone book.

“And sacrifice your friendship with her for a good one-time fuck once you realize that you’re thinking with your dick? Sure, go ahead. But just so you know, she doesn’t deserve that,” Sukuna angrily countered.

“Oh, shut up. You’re only saying that so I’ll back off. You’ve started treating me differently ever since you started liking her too. Well, just so you know, I’m not afraid of a little competition. It’s obvious who she’ll pick.”

Toji cursed himself internally. He didn’t want a pick a fight with his friend, but when it comes to you, he could never rationalize his actions. He angled his head and folded his arms, tucking them by his pecs, trying to be as imposing as possible, “at least I don’t ignore her when she’s feeling down.”

Desperate times call for passive aggressive and triggering measures.

Sukuna chuffs as rage fills him to the brim, vermillion eyes trained on his peer. “Well, since we’re both obsessed with her, let’s settle this like men. Let’s spar-no gloves, no helmets. Whoever wins confesses to her first.”

Tension permeates the gym much like the thick musk of sweat. Toji licks his bottom teeth as he glares at Sukuna.

“Fine.”

The two men walk over to the opposite ends of the ring, wrapping their fists with white bandages. Warriors getting ready for a battle that would determine their fate.

Over the years, Sukuna had built himself to be a formidable fighter, often scaring his opponents by the sheer mention of his name.

His image, of course, never intimidated Toji. Their staunch friendship made it easy for him to not cower under Sukuna’s larger frame and daunting gaze. They’d been through thick and thin together. A brotherly bond like no other.

Though, when you were added into the equation, things changed. Exponentially.

Toji felt like he was having an out of body experience when he turned down a woman for yet another one night stand, feeling guilty for what you might think about his habits. He started styling his shaggy hair better, trimming it out of his eyes in hopes of you seeing him as a kempt man, unlike the unpolished ruffian he used to be.

Sukuna changed his vocabulary when you complained about him swearing too much. Though there were a few slips of tongue, he’d apologize soon after, only to feel rewarded when you’d giggle and tell him all was good. He found himself truly changing when he debated keeping the stray cat you found while walking to the gym one day. That cat still hangs out at his apartment. Until he finds a suitable owner of course (and not because it makes him feel like you’re both raising a child together whenever you ask about the little rascal).

The two men harnessed their emotions in every punch, each hit impacting harder than the last. By now, there were red splotches of both their blood on the bandages. They couldn’t tell if it was a mixture or their own.

Toji had landed a particularly hard punch in Sukuna’s stomach when you had walked in, chatting Uraume’s ear off about some Greek restaurant you discovered.

“I’m gonna go call Coach Yaga. You try to deescalate the situation,” Uraume instructs you before jogging towards the office.

You gasped as you heard the loud thump. The men were too busy brawling to notice that you had walked in.

“Oh my God!” You ran towards the ring, hand stamped to your mouth when you saw blood coating your friends’ bodies.

Toji looked at you momentarily, sending you a quick smile before ducking away from Sukuna’s attack. “Hey, you’re here early.”

“Yeah, and I’m glad I did. Why are you guys hurting each other like this? Stop it!”

“Oh, just relax, we’re only practicing,” Sukuna cajoles as he lands a hard punch on Toji’s jaw.

You could only wince at the sound. “You guys never fight without your gloves. What is going on?”

“Don’t worry about it,” both men said in unison.

There was no way you could’ve stopped the fight by entering the ring. You did not want to accidentally hurt yourself while trying to pry the two fighters apart.

So you watched and cringed each time someone got a gnarly punch, bruising them like a peach.

Toji peered up at you through his sweaty and matted bangs as you placed an ice pack on his bloody knuckles. He hissed as you pressed the cold brick even harder, trying to numb the area.

The boxers rash decision led you to where you stood right now: between them in the locker room with an opened first aid kit sitting on the same bench as them. By the time Coach Yaga arrived to break them apart, both men had battered each other to a pulp. Sukuna was sporting a painful purple eye that matched Toji’s (mainly because it was given in retaliation).

Toji had bruises all over his chest and both men had sent each other so many punches that the friction from the knuckle bandages had rubbed their skin raw, leaving their hands covered in blood.

As punishment, Coach Yaga sent them both to the locker room to fix their injuries themselves, but you couldn’t handle seeing them wince in pain every time they touched something so you followed them in.

Sukuna groaned as he lightly touched his purple eye and you immediately moved to where he was sitting to attend to it. You grabbed another ice pack and placed it by his brow bone. His hand was quick to cover yours, preventing you from moving it away immediately.

“What were you both thinking? Did you guys argue over something?”

You were met with silence, both men sitting like toddlers who had been caught trying to secretly stay up past bed time. “I don’t understand how you both can be so immature.”

You try to move your hand away from Sukuna’s ice pack but his hold is rigid. “Let me go, I need to look at Toji’s injuries and my hand’s going numb.”

Toji sends a smug smirk to Sukuna when you turn around to dig through the first aid box. Sukuna only replies to his friend by baring his fangs.

“I didn’t expect this at all. You guys are friends,” you continued as you dabbed ointment on the small cut on Toji’s jaw.

The raven haired man gulps as your scent enshrouds him. It’s much better than the amalgamated miasma of bleach and Old Spice in the locker room.

All while Toji was enjoying being close to you, Sukuna scoffed internally while watching the scene with his good eye. Two could play that game.

“Hey, could put a muscle relaxing patch on my back? I think I’ve got a huge bruise there,” Toji’s head whips towards his sparring partner as he chews the inside of his cheek.

You nod sweetly, and the place the ointment filled cotton pad in Toji’s palm so you could attend to Sukuna instead. Toji watched with betrayed eyes as you gasped at the sight of Sukuna’s back.

“Oh my God, you’re right. This looks horrible.” You glare at Toji. “You really didn’t hold back, didn’t you?”

“Are you seriously gonna blame all of this on me? What about my face?” Toji counters.

“You’re right. I can’t just blame this on you. You’re both at fault for ending up like this,” you reprimand both men as you stick a muscle relief patch on Sukuna’s back. The softness of your hands makes him momentarily forget about his pain.

“Meat-headed oafs,” you mumble under your breath.

“I think I’ve got a bruise on my back too. Can you apply a patch there?” Sukuna throws a middle finger to Toji when you turn your back to them.

When you’re about to go back to the first aid box after applying Toji’s patch, Sukuna pulls you to him again, “I think I need more patches on my ribs.”

Exhaustion begins to settle into your bones, but you listen to your friend anyway. You’re about to leave until Toji grabs your waist and pulls you into his direction.

He looks at you with puppy dog eyes. “Can you massage my biceps? They’re very sore—“

“Hey, I think my patch’s adhesive isn’t strong. Can you apply another one?” Sukuna interrupts.

Jealousy bubbles in both of them and it threatens to spill out.

“I asked her for help first!”

“But I can’t reach my back. You can touch your biceps just fine—“

“Both of you shut up! I’m not your slave. Uraume will help you. I’m mad and I’m going home. You’re both such babies.” And with that you walk out of the locker room with a sulking faces and folded arms.

“This is all your fault,” Toji blames. Sukuna simply slaps his friend’s bicep and Toji’s lack of a whimper makes him scoff.

“You just wanted an excuse for her to touch you. I needed real help.”

“You gotta do what you gotta do to get attention. I’m gonna confess to her before you know it.”

Sukuna knows he’s being warned. And he knows he shouldn’t wait around for too long or you’ll be swept away when he least expects it.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Valentine's Day Special - First Chocolates

“Um… Happy Valentine’s Day, Bakugou!”

Bakugou gawked at you like you had grown two heads. There you were, in his bedroom, hands outstretched to offer him your best homemade chocolates. You knew nobody ever bothered to give Bakugou chocolates before, so you didn’t know what to expect next despite knowing the boy better than anyone. 

From his seat at his desk, Bakugou took the cute pink box from your hands and gingerly opened it, popping a chocolate into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. 

“Well?” you asked. “Do you like it?”

“‘Course I do,” he spat. “But… why’re you giving me these?”

You tilted your head quizzically. “…Because we’re best friends?”

Bakugou paused, scrutinizing your answer.

“You give any of your other ‘best friends’ delicious chocolates?” Bakugou asked, sneering at the thought. 

“I did give some to Kirishima, Todoroki, and Midoriya…” Bakugou’s face darkened with every name you listed. “But I made yours extra special! Because we’re so close!”

Bakugou’s face slowly broke into a wide grin. “S’that so? Sounds about right! Next year, you don’t gotta give those guys chocolates. Just give ‘em all to me.”

Bakugou spent the rest of the day eating your chocolates in front of all his lonely and single friends whenever they came to bother him. He also paraded you around Kirishima, Todoroki, and Midoriya in particular, often walking up to these boys and smacking his lips as he chewed through your super special chocolate to make his intentions quite clear. 

Of course, the Bakusquad swarmed Bakugou in the dorms and asked him one very important question that even Bakugou was still wondering about. 

“Are they friendship chocolates?” Ashido asked. “Or romance chocolates?”

“What, it ain’t obvious?” Bakugou replied, having no clue himself. “Such a dumb question.”

Bakugou looked away with a huff, but he could never give the Bakusquad a straight answer. Whenever they interrogated you for details, Bakugou not-so-discreetly glanced over his shoulder to check your response. 

You merely replied, “It’s a secret.”

This frustrated the Bakusquad (and Bakugou) to no end, but you weren’t quite yet ready to tell your true feelings to anyone, at least not in public. It wasn’t until much later that same day when Bakugou caught you for some alone time in your bedroom that he brought up the question again. 

“Hey…” Bakugou said, sitting alongside you on your bed with a concerned expression. “Next month, I’m gonna totally outdo the gift you just gave me. But don’t go taking gifts from other guys. I’m not gonna give anything to other people either. Remember, it’s just gotta be our thing, ya know?”

You hid your face a little in your hands to cover your embarrassment from his sweet statement. “Oh, okay! Anything for my best friend!”

“Good.” Bakugou steeled himself to say his next piece. “That means we’re officially exclusive from now on. And the only gifts we’re gonna give each other are gonna be special, right?”

He was genuinely wondering about your answer judging by the bit of desperation behind his words. He was so cute sometimes. You needed to tell him the truth.

You beamed at him playfully. “Well of course! I can’t just give everyone romance chocolates, now can I?”

Bakugou appeared surprised for a second before breaking out into a satisfied and proud grin.

“‘Course not,” Bakugou said, his heart pounding as he leaned over to eagerly kiss you.

(I still exist! I have just been busy with real life and I am sick. Thankfully I was able to get this post out in time!)

[kxtsukixoxo]

DABI WITH "this doesn't mean I like you" YESYESYES

authors note - BLESS YOUR SOUL THIS IS FUCKING PERFECTTTTTT here’s the valentine’s day event, there’s still prompts available!! ⊹. warnings - nsfw content

dabi and you always had some sort of sense of hatred for each other, to a blind eye, people would say, sure it’s normal, they’re villains they’re supposed to hate everybody right? this was different. the LOV agreed collectively that this wasn’t hatred, this was some sort of vendetta, and as usual, the two of you were arguing in the common room, once again.  

toga and twice left you two to it, agreeing this was just normal and procedure now, but there was something different hinted in dabi’s eyes as you scanned his face, today it was different. 

“cut it out” you spat out as you gritted your teeth, struggling to breathe as dabi’s hand wrapped around your throat, restraining your airways, “such a dirty mouth for a pretty face” dabi muttered as he looked down at you.  “let go of me-“ you tried screaming out, but it was no use. the bastard was stronger than you, and he knew it, he always rubbed it in your face. 

“what’s wrong doll? can’t take what you dish out?” he chuckled as he watched you struggle against his grip “sadistic fuck, you get off of this typa shit don’t you!-“

dabi cut you off, grabbing your waist and flinging you towards the couch, your head hit the armrest as you slid down onto the floor, he didn’t worry if you’d get hurt, your quirk allowed you to feel minimal pain. obviously just making this more fun for him, he knew you’d be fine, so why were you unconscious? 

fuck. 

dabi rushed to your side, “stop playin games  (y/n)”

fuckfuckfuck.

“wake up-“ he tapped your cheek, as an unfamiliar feeling filled him, he felt a croaking shriek bubble up inside his throat, “dammit!” his voice broke. 

“pfffft” you giggled, “who knew you were such a sentive twat?” your stomach ached with laughter as you gasped for air, within seconds you were tossed onto the couch, and pinned down, “don’t ever fuckin’ play with me like that again” he gritted against his teeth, hissing like a venomous snake, “what? you don’t want me to know you have feelings for me or sumn? you’re not good at hiding it staples-“

dabi cut you off. and for a second, you felt like this was a dream, his lips connected with yours, your mouth opened slightly, giving him the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and drink you up, finally pulling back, he scanned your face,

“this doesn’t mean i like you” 

“whatever helps you sleep at night you princess” you giggled as he unbuckled your jeans, “woah wait-in the common room-“ dabi chuckled, “scared sweetheart?” 

“someone could walk in-“ 

“then we’ll be quick, just so you don’t have to worry your pretty little head hm?” 

“calling me pretty already-fuck!-“ 

while all that useless chatter was happening, dabi was able to pull his own jeans down, as well as his boxers. tossing your legs over his shoulders, he buried himself inside you. you covered your mouth with the front of your hand as your eyes screwed close,

“nah uh lemme hear you doll”

he yanked your hand off your mouth, as he ran his own through his hair, and in that moment, you swore you were ready to carry his kids. it’s criminal for him to look like this good, all sweaty, stuffing himself inside you, while you looked like a mess gripping the top of the couch, as you whined against his cock.

dabi could get addicted to the feeling of your tight walls wrapped around his cock, practically milking him like a succubus, “fuckin’ vixen bitch” he muttered as he let out a guttural moan, from the depths of his chest. all you could do was whine and shriek, as tears streaked your cheeks “you look so good cryin’ for my dick baby” he tapped your cheek, as kneaded the flesh surrounding your hip, with his other hand. the familiar knot in your stomach formed, ready to come undone” 

“you gonna cum? i can feel you squeezin’ me tight babe” you nodded. there was nothing more you could do, you looked like a dumb slut beneath him, barely able to speak. dabi asked you minor questions, just to hear your slurred speech. 

he enjoyed it, fucking hell he loved it. 

“going all dumb over my dick, cum for me baby” 

that was all you needed, you rocked your hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, finally bottoming out ontop of you, he collapsed next to you on the couch, “you open your mouth about this to anybody, and i’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to think for weeks” 

“don’t promise me with a good time you fucktard” you breathed out 

“that filthy fuckin’ mouth of yours.”