#but damn his no-brow frown... it's so hard to get just his eyes look soft without otherwise neutral expression

[hyuniemyunie]

Jason todd x gn reader˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

doing his makeup!<3

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): hes sooooo wifey i love him sm

THIS IS FOR EVERYNYAN. MEN WITH MAKEUP. WOMEN WITH MAKEUP. NONBINARY PPL WITH MAKEUP.

men who do makeup..r..like. so hot. sorry..not sorry..

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

Jason Todd was many things—an ex-Robin, a vigilante, a walking, talking trauma case—but a guy who let someone put makeup on him? That was where he drew the line.

At least, he had drawn the line. But you had this look in your eyes, that mischievous little sparkle that made it real hard to say no.

“Come on,” you pleaded, holding up a fluffy makeup brush like it was a weapon of mass persuasion. “Just let me do a little bit.”

Jason crossed his arms. “I’m not gonna look like a clown, am I?”

you gasped, placing a hand over your heart in fake offense. “How dare you. I would never make you look bad.”

He squinted at you. “Uh-huh.”

You scooted closer, eyes shining. “Please?”

Jason sighed, already feeling himself caving. “Fine. But if I look ridiculous, I’m making you watch all my shitty old Westerns shows with me.”

You grinned. “Deal.”

And that was how Jason Todd, Gotham’s brooding menace, ended up sitting on the edge of the bed while you happily went to work on his face.

At first, he felt stupid. you started with some primer and foundation, muttering about “undertones” and “coverage” while he sat there like an idiot. Then came the contouring—something about sharpening his cheekbones, which he thought was unnecessary because his cheekbones were already sharp enough to cut glass.

Then you moved to his eyes.

“This is where the magic happens,” you declared, pulling out an eyeshadow palette.

Jason groaned. “I swear to God, if you give me rainbow clown eyes—”

“Shhh,” you hushed him, dusting warm brown and reddish shades onto his lids.

Jason stayed quiet after that, mostly because the feeling of the brush against his skin was oddly relaxing. You blended, added a bit of shimmer at the inner corners, then pulled out the eyeliner.

“Keep still,” you warned.

Jason tried to keep still, but the moment you got close to his eye with that little black pen, his survival instincts kicked in.

You huffed. “You stare down thugs with guns on a nightly basis, but this is where you flinch?”

“It’s a reflex,” Jason grumbled.

you rolled your eyes and cupped his jaw, gently tilting his face. “Look up.”

He did. And maybe—just maybe—he liked the way you were touching him, all soft and careful like he was something delicate.

Once you finished the eyeliner, you moved to mascara. Jason blinked too hard the first time, getting some on his eyelid. You scolded him, wiped it off, and tried again.

Then came the final touch—the lips.

Jason narrowed his eyes as you picked up a tube of lipstick. “No bright red,” he warned.

You rolled your eyes. “I know. Trust me.”

You picked a deep, natural shade and carefully applied it, your thumb tilting his chin to keep him still. When you pulled back, you studied him, eyes wide with satisfaction.

“…Holy shit,” you muttered.

Jason frowned. “What?”

“You look really good.”

Jason snorted. “You’re supposed to say that. You did the makeup.”

“No, but like—really good.” You grabbed your phone and flipped the camera so he could see.

Jason expected to look ridiculous.

Instead…

Oh.

The guy in the reflection wasn’t some overgrown crime alley stray. His skin looked flawless, his cheekbones more defined, his blue eyes sharp. The eyeliner made them pop, the mascara darkened his lashes just enough, and the lip color—damn.

He turned his head slightly, raising a brow. He looked—

“…I look hot,” Jason muttered, genuinely surprised.

You burst out laughing. “I told you!”

Jason kept staring at himself, tilting his head like he was studying a piece of art. “…I look like I could scam rich men out of their fortunes.”

You snorted. “You totally could.”

Jason leaned closer to the mirror. “This is bullshit. Why does this work?”

You smirked, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Because, babe, I’m the one who did it.”

Jason gave you a sideways glance. “…So you’re saying if I let you do this every time, I could be the prettiest crime-fighting menace in Gotham?”

You grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

Jason hummed. “Huh.”

He turned back to the mirror, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.

“…So how do I take selfies?”

Jason stared at his reflection, turning his face slightly to the side, then back. His sharp jawline looked even sharper under the contour, the dark eyeliner made his blue eyes pop like something out of a painting, and the lip color—deep, natural, and just glossy enough—gave him a dangerous kind of charm.

You watched him with barely contained laughter, chin resting on his shoulder. Oh, he was eating this up.

“So,” you drawled, watching his expression shift between admiration and disbelief. “What do you think?”

Jason exhaled through his nose, tilting his head again like he was analyzing a priceless artifact.

“…I look like I scam rich men for a living,” he muttered.

You grinned. “And you’d be good at it.”

Jason let out a soft, amused scoff, still not looking away from the mirror. You could see the way his brain was working—turning over the fact that he, Jason Todd, could be pretty in a way he hadn’t really considered before.

His fingers brushed over his jaw. “This is bullshit.”

You snorted. “What’s bullshit? That I made you look hot?”

“That it works,” he grumbled, squinting at himself like the makeup had personally betrayed him. “I mean, I expected to look like some try-hard clown, not—” He gestured vaguely at his face. “—whatever this is.”

“A masterpiece?” you supplied helpfully.

Jason shot you a look, but there was no real bite to it. He was too busy admiring his reflection.

You grabbed your phone and flipped the camera, holding it up. “Wanna take some selfies?”

Jason hesitated. His instinct was probably to say no, but you could see the little flicker of consideration in his eyes.

“…If you send them to Dick, I’ll throw your phone off a building.”

“Duh,” you said, like that should’ve been obvious. “These are for us. For documentation. For history. For—”

Jason rolled his eyes, but you caught the way his lips twitched like he was fighting a smile.

“…Fine.”

You gasped dramatically. “Did the Jason Todd just agree to take selfies?”

“Shut up and take the damn picture.”

You beamed and held the phone up, making sure the lighting was just right before snapping a couple of shots. Jason barely even tried to pose, but he didn’t need to—his natural sharpness, the way he glanced sideways at the camera with that slight, lazy smirk, made him look effortlessly cool.

After a few shots, you checked the photos, grinning. “Okay, but you actually look so good.”

Jason leaned over, eyes scanning the images. His expression softened for just a second before he covered it up with faux nonchalance. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just saying that ‘cause you did the makeup.”

“No,” you said seriously, nudging his arm. “I mean it. You’re gorgeous, Jay.”

Jason blinked, caught off guard. He cleared his throat, looking away like you hadn’t just turned him into putty with one sentence. “…You’re so full of shit.”

You just grinned.

“Alright,” Jason sighed, stretching his arms above his head. “Time to wash this off before I start getting ideas.”

You gasped. “What kind of ideas?”

Jason smirked, standing up and flexing dramatically. “I dunno. Maybe I should start conning rich old ladies.”

“Oh my god.”

“I could be Gotham’s prettiest crime lord. Make Bruce’s life a living hell.”

You laughed, standing up with him. “I knew this would go to your head.”

Jason slung an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Your fault, babe.”

And yeah—maybe it was your fault. But looking at Jason now, with his newfound appreciation for just how good he could look, you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.

Jason wasn’t one to fuss over things like makeup. Sure, it had turned out better than expected—hell, he’d even admit (to you, and only you) that he looked good—but after a few selfies and some teasing, he was ready to wash it off and go back to his usual, rugged, Gotham-worn self.

At least, that was the plan.

You, however, had different ideas.

Jason stood in front of the bathroom mirror, rolling up his sleeves as he turned the sink on. His reflection stared back at him—still sharp-jawed, still intense-eyed, but softened just a bit by the expertly blended makeup you’d applied. He reached for a towel when, suddenly—

SMOOCH.

A pair of lips landed on his cheek, warm and deliberate.

Jason froze. “What are you—”

SMOOCH. Another one, this time dangerously close to his jaw.

“Babe—”

SMOOCH. SMOOCH. SMOOCH.

He turned just in time for you to attack with another kiss, smacking your lips dramatically against his face. Jason stumbled back against the sink, hands bracing himself as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt to keep him in place.

“Alright, alright!” he laughed, hands coming up to ward you off. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

You grinned up at him, smug as hell. “Just appreciating my work before it all goes to waste.”

Jason gave you a suspicious look, but when he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand—his eyes widened.

A bright red lipstick stain smeared across his knuckles.

He turned back to the mirror.

Oh, shit.

There were marks everywhere. Little red imprints covered his cheeks, his jawline, his nose, and—he rubbed his lips together, realizing you’d definitely gotten him there too. His mouth was slightly smudged, like he’d either been thoroughly kissed or had just finished robbing a bank with Harley Quinn.

Jason looked back at you, you looked way too pleased with yourself.

“Are you serious?” Jason groaned, rubbing at his face. The lipstick refused to budge.

“Very.” You crossed your arms, proud of your masterpiece. “I think it suits you.”

Jason ran a hand down his face. “I look like I got mauled by a very aggressive valentine.”

“You look loved,” you corrected sweetly, batting your lashes.

Jason exhaled through his nose, staring at you like he was this close to enacting revenge. Then, with zero warning, he grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you up onto the bathroom counter.

“Jay—”

You barely had time to react before he pressed his face all over yours—cheeks, nose, forehead, even down to your neck—rubbing against you like a damn cat.

You squealed, trying to push him off. “Jason, no—!”

“What?” he murmured, voice smug and low against your ear. “You don’t wanna match?”

You huffed, knowing damn well he was transferring all those lipstick marks onto your face. When he finally pulled back, he took a second to admire his work.

You glared at him. “You’re an ass.”

Jason smirked, running his thumb over your now-stained cheek. “You love me.”

You tried to look annoyed, but the way he was looking at you—smug, sure, but with that soft glint in his blue eyes—made it impossible to stay mad.

You sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah.”

Jason chuckled, leaning down to press a much gentler, slower kiss to your lips. This time, neither of you cared about the mess.

[juustozzi]

So I will carry you, until you'll carry me

[witherby]

The Littlest Wayne

Or, the one where Bruce brings home a baby, and your adorable little face wins the heart of your new, big brothers.

Platonic!Reader and Batfam

"Bruce."

"Don't freak out."

"Bruce."

"You're freaking out. I can see it in your eyes, but don't do it."

"This is a problem. This is an actual addiction and you need help."

"You're overreacting. I need everyone to take a deep breath, in and out, and not freak out."

Dick crossed his arms and glared at his father, narrowed eyes shifting up and down in an extremely pointed manner. Tim and Jason were wearing similar expressions, looking either at Bruce himself or the bundle in his arms.

Damian walked across the room and peered down at the bundle, expressionless.

"Father, come on."

Bruce carefully brushed the edge of the blanket away from your face. You scrunched your tiny nose, disturbed, then settled back down without issue. The billionaire had found you abandoned outside the garage doors of the Gotham Fire Station, left there by some overwhelmed mother no doubt. Unfortunately, that particular station was closed on the weekends, because of course this damned city couldn't staff a fire station 24/7, and if he hadn't found you on patrol, you would have frozen to death on the ground.

"They were in danger!" Bruce insisted firmly, but kept his voice soft so as not to frighten you. "Look — they don't have black hair or blue eyes. You can tell I didn't do it on purpose."

"Why not take the baby to the GCPD, then? Or a hospital?" Jason piped up, unamused. "B, cut the bullshit. You can't keep 'em."

"I brought them here first to ensure they didn't need any immediate medical attention."

"Which is something a hospital could do," Tim said.

"An overcrowded and understaffed hospital, that doesn't have the time to spare to give them direct and undivided attention?" Bruce argued. "The med ward in the Cave is just as efficient as an emergency room, if not more so."

"And the fact that you aren't down there with the baby — the baby you are not keeping," Dick chimed in, holding out his arms for you, "means that they're perfectly fine and can be transported safely somewhere else."

"They're sleeping right now," Bruce said, completely deadpan, and made no move to relinquish his hold over you. "We can't put them in a noisy car and upset them. We can drop the baby off in the morning."

"He's getting dangerously attached," Dick hissed to his brothers. "We need the big guns."

"I'll alert Pennyworth," Damian declared, already ducking out of the room. Bruce scowled, aware the battle was quickly turning against his favor. But he could play dirty, too.

He dropped his shoulders and the furrow of his brow turned slightly down, weary and forlorn. He stopped looking at his boys and instead studied all your tiny features, tracing a finger down the bridge of your nose, gently across your lashes, and over your plump little cheeks. You were absolutely adorable. He was already thinking of names for you in his mind.

"You know, I never got to raise any of you from infancy," he stated, not in any pointed manner, just as objective fact. Just quietly enough that they could think Bruce hadn't meant to say it out loud. "Not that I would've wanted to steal that experience from your birth parents. I would never. But...I don't even know what Damian looked like when he was this small."

Dick's eye twitched. The glare was still in place, but his frown was less severe. One down.

"I'm sorry, boys," he sighed, acting as though he were giving in. "The Mission has taken up so much of my time, it's hard not to wonder what I would have been like as a normal father. Just the formative things, like... like changing diapers, and doing Tummy Time, and helping you guys learn to walk."

Tim's eyes grew distant, likely thinking of his own parents and the loneliness he felt growing up in Drake Manor all by himself. He was no doubt recalling how much he wished his mom or dad had been around, to play or to talk to or just to physically be there with him, instead of off traveling the world and leaving him behind to fend for himself.

Two down.

But Jason, despite all that had happened over the years, despite the strain on his relationship with Bruce, had always been the most emotional of his children. He would not be hard to win over.

"This would be a mistake," Bruce stated, looking his second oldest right in the eyes. "They'd be happier somewhere else, somewhere normal. Maybe...maybe one of you could hold them and I can go start the car? I can feel myself starting to get attached, and that's not fair to you, boys. I didn't mean to stress you all out. I wasn't thinking."

Jason huffed, lowering his feet from where they'd been propped up on the coffee table, and stood from the couch to come take you from Bruce. His arms carefully held you to his broad chest, your weight settling against him pleasantly.

He made the mistake of watching you scrunch your face and whine softly, itty bitty hands poking out from your blanket and gripping onto his shirt sleeve with all the strength your small body could muster.

Jason's expression dropped immediately, and he practically melted as he tucked you closer.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Damian and Alfred walked into the living room to find Bruce, Jason, Dick, and Tim all cooing and fawning over you, and the war was lost.

Welcome home, Littlest Wayne.

[seiwas]

new year superstitions (or some shit) | bakugo katsuki

wc: 1.4k

summary: bakugo's never believed in timing things for luck (or: affection is hard, but bakugo thinks it's about damn time he tries harder)

contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, aged up!pro-hero bakugo (mid-twenties), reader is described as pretty, vaguely alludes to reader's quirk, established relationship, fluff.

you slip into bakugo's space just a few minutes shy of touching the new year.

everywhere around you is loud, lively in the way new year's eve parties go; a group of people down the street stand outside of a bar, waving their streamers and blowing on small trumpets to welcome the next hour. from a distance, fireworks are shooting up to the sky, right above some luxury hotel having its annual countdown.

it's neither bakugo's thing nor yours to be up this late, partaking in celebrations like this, but he supposes some things are worth experiencing at least once—

the scent of your perfume hits him before he sees you, the space around him tightening in that familiar way the air around you shifts when you hold your breath. you smile, a small, gentle lift of your lips that falls into pace with your blink. pretty.

warmth pools in his stomach, building slowly to crawl its way up his neck and over his ears, overflowing to dust his cheeks.

"thought you looked a little lonely over here," you mumble, stifling your giggle as you watch him turn pink.

he furrows his brows, a soft "tsk," escaping his lips out of habit as his head turns to you. you always tease him like this; he should be getting used to it by now.

a gust of wind picks up from your spot on the balcony, pushing the glass door shut. the noise from inside muffles to dull chatter, the beat of tonight's music recognizable only by the subtle vibrations on the metal railing resting against his back.

the winter breeze seems to have tapped you, too, as you tuck your chin deeper into the red scarf around your neck.

"y'should've stayed inside," he nods to you then to the balcony door, crossing his arms, "s'cold here."

you frown, inching closer, just enough that you could loop your arm with his if you wanted, "sometimes, i can't tell if you're bad at taking hints or just really good at ignoring them."

he eyes you from the side, red vermillion the shade of your scarf—the one he gifted you just a few days ago for christmas. you pout, loosening the fabric around your neck so he can hear you clearly.

"you know," you take in a shaky breath, "this is the f-first time we're at s-something like this as y-y'know…” you pause, glancing at him to gauge his reaction, “t-together."

his nose turns a shade of pink darker; it's true, and he can hear you clearly—every tremor, every shiver. he sees you pretty clearly too, the softest hint of red on your lips. this relationship with you is new, just a little over a couple of months, and it makes him think—

"k-katsuki, are you e-even—"

it's reflex when he does it―his hand shooting out to grip your elbow, pulling you closer into his parka. right where you were standing lands a small clump of snow, fallen from the balcony of the unit above.

you look up almost immediately, a little flustered.

"s-sorry―"

bakugo feels warm despite the cold, heat blazing across his entire face as little puffs of air tickle his neck when you speak. like he said, this relationship with you is new, and though he's held you a few times already, affection, in any capacity is still something he's getting used to.

and you're aware of that too; of course you are. but when you push yourself away to create some space―

"told you s'fuckin cold."

―he keeps his other hand on your back, holding you into place.

bakugo is intense in most aspects; he meets things headfirst with no hesitation, but being this close to you makes him feel weird, a kind of unusual he thinks he should approach with caution―as if to keep himself from ruining the moment.

so his eyes wander. down the street, on the view behind you; they focus on the wisps of your hair ruffled from the earlier breeze, the tips of your eyelashes, blinking. then slowly and carefully, they land on you.

and you―

you beam, eyes widening momentarily before flashing him the brightest smile. it stills him so much that he doesn't notice your hands loosening the scarf around your neck even more, unwinding the fabric until the lengthened ends sit on your palms.

it's when you say "okay," gently and so... so... sweetly, that he feels the softness of wool hit the tips of his ears and down his neck. an ache spreads throughout his chest as he locks eyes with yours, tongue pushing against the roof of his mouth for another tsk―but you beat him to it, your finger coming up to press against his lips.

"s'cold," you giggle, a hint of teasing.

he narrows his gaze, about to retort when you both hear muffled shouts from inside the party, "ten... nine... eight..."

the group of friends down the street seem to be in on it too, echoes in unison, shouting, "seven... six... five... four..."

and from afar, right where the hotel is situated, are the numbers "three... two... one..." lit up on the sky.

you tug on bakugo's parka to draw his attention; the expression on your face is something he can't quite decipher―winter on your cheeks and your lower lip pulled between your teeth. the air around him tightens again, evidenced by the way you suck in a breath.

then, it happens all too fast―the way you tiptoe up just that little bit; your fingertips stamping chills down the edges of his scarred cheek. you kiss bakugo right as the new year strikes and the moment happens too quickly for him to notice.

"happy new year, katsuki," you whisper, close enough that it tickles his chin. it must have been a small peck, it must have been. he can only assume as he blinks it back to memory.

you've kissed before―three times to be exact, four counting this one. and he's not opposed to it (what kind of idiot would be?); in full truth, he fucking loves it.

but, affection is hard, and fuck, it's always been you initiating it―

"sorry, too much?" you mumble sheepishly, pressing your lips together, "just figured since it's the new year and all..."

―which is even more fucked by the fact that you feel the need to apologize for it.

he stares at you, bewildered out of his fucking mind that he still hasn't grown the damn balls to kiss you himself.

so, to hell with new year superstitions, he thinks; bakugo's never believed in playing to luck and chance in the first place. he'll kiss you right now because he wants to―

because it's what he's been wanting to do since the start of tonight, since yesterday, since a week ago; since you kissed him the very first time and all he could do was stand there, trying to act like the very feel of his lips pressed against yours didn't make his mind howitzer impact right in that moment.

―it just so happens that it's the new year, and it's about damn time he grows the balls to initiate it for once.

his hand reaches for your cheek before you can take a step back, fingers slotting themselves by your ear and resting against the edge of your jaw. your eyebrows shoot up, the look in your eyes something between confused and surprised. his thumb slides itself across your cheek before swiping down to touch the edge of your lips, feeling.

there's a dull warmth beneath the pads of his fingertips, heating up when he leans in. the air tightens; breath on hold as his nose bumps into your skin, and it's faint, the slightest touch of your lips against his. your eyes fall shut before his do, and he shivers, a slight tremble as he deepens the kiss.

he starts out slowly, uncertain, moving his lips tentatively. it's a push and pull―soft, quick pecks sandwiched between longer, drawn out touching. it almost feels like this moment's been suspended amidst all the noise, lips locked and gliding, lingering; he swears he can feel you grinning.

your fingers grip the fabric of his parka and tug, and he sees it as a signal to be rougher, taking your bottom lip between his and slightly biting. you squeak the tiniest bit, but it's enough to make him pull away completely, eyes wide as his thumb presses against your chin.

"fuck," he whispers, catching his breath as he tugs just enough that he can see the inside of your lower lip, "did i hurt you?"

he's squinting, brows furrowed while looking for any sign of blood when you shake your head, stopping him. his gaze shifts to take you in―your glossy lips, slick with spit; your eyes, completely blown but somehow still twinkling, and when you giggle, he almost finds it cruel you have to look so fucking pretty.

"it's just your canines," you smile, "i like them."

fuck, he really should've done this sooner.

a/n: this ended up way longer than i planned woops! haven't written bakugo in a while but i miss the guy!! and i wanted to write him so terribly flustered and bad at affection but being so frustrated because he wants to try!!! and he should be better than this!! anyway! i had this idea around christmas time but couldn't write it in time for the new year because i got sick. so it's a little late, but i hope you enjoy!

i'm not sure if you remember my dear willow @willossom, but you sent me a request a good while back for one of my events with the prompt: saying "i love you" in all the ways you aren't used to for bakugo, and this reminded me loads of it!! 🥺 though this isn't the written request for that one yet (i have something else planned for it), i just wanted to let you know that i thought of you while writing this!!!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[madamechrissy]

=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Medical procedures, crazy sexual tension, lots of cussing, light angst, tons of humor, workplace relationship, the hospital is lowkey slutty lol. Reader 26, Dr. Gojo 34, small age gap- Grey's vibes ✨️

=͟͟͞♡ Word Count- this chap- 7.5k

=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!

♡ Comment to get added to the tag list ♡

=͟͟͞♡ Part One =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist

♡ Part Two ♡

“Doctor, you should call it. The time of death.” Comes Miwa’s voice, soft and sweet, as you’re pumping your hands tirelessly over this woman’s chest.

The woman had a damn baby right in the hospital nursery, having had a placental abruption, they had gotten the baby out in time on the maternity ward, but then she lost too much blood, and they’d brought her here. You've pumped countless times, your elbows are locked, your arms are aching, there are tears sticking to your cheeks that you don’t know where they came from.

You’re counting, one, two, three… to thirty, then scowl up at the nurse assistant now. “She’s not dead yet, now do the breaths!”

The assistant squeezes the blue bottle, frowning at you in concern. “It’s been three minutes, the patient is likely gone.”

“Don’t tell me to just give up on her. I won’t. Charge em up.” You turn and say to Miwa now, and she sighs. “I said…” You’re pumping so hard you feel her ribcage just barely crack, but you can’t stop, she’s flat lined and she has a damn baby. “I said charge them. Thirty joules! C’mon, Yula…”

The patient’s name was Yula, her name was Yula.

You keep repeating it to yourself as you work over her, hopelessly staring at the screen, praying to see a blip, to see anything. You’ve already had to call time of death for patients, but something in this got you, in knowing that the baby wouldn’t even know her own mother. In knowing that she got here just in time to save her baby, only to fall unconscious.

You’re nearing four minutes, you realize with a panic, and you notice Miwa has not charged the paddles. “Doctor, you should-”

“Are you telling your doctor what to do?” You demand, breathless, and she pouts then, thin brows drawing together.

“If she says charge them, fucking charge them. Thirty joules, now.” Comes Doctor Gojo’s voice, deep and stern, as he steps into the room, glaring over at Miwa, who now suddenly decides that she will charge the paddles. You’d roll your eyes if you weren’t compressing over and over on Yula, exhaustion already setting in.

“Thank you, Dr. Gojo.” You manage, trembling with your effort, and he gently pushes you out of the way, you shake out your numb arms.

“You get the paddles, intern, okay. How long?” He asks.

“Almost four minutes, Gojo, she's crazy!” Miwa says. Your jaw clenches.

“Did I ask you anything?” He demands then, and the room goes silent, Gojo looks right at you, seriously, when you get the paddles and then he moves his hands, as you shock Yula’s chest now.

A blip.

“Please, please…” You whisper, choking up, and then the blip dies off. “She just had two blood transfusions, we need to-”

“Doctor, she’s been at it too long.” Miwa says. “She’s going to have no brain function if we go one more minute.”

“So we give her one more minute!” You shout at her, you never shout, you never break this composure you try to have, but you’re exhausted, weak, thank god Gojo’s pumping over her, his strong arms working faster than even you could.

“Hey, intern, look at me.” You look at Gojo then, at his pretty face as he’s working over her, his white hair falling over his forehead, he nods at the paddles. “Just breathe, yeah? Charge them to forty five.”

“Yes, Sir.” You manage, taking a breath, then you open your eyes, and look at the screen one more time, taking the defibrillator paddles, and shocking her chest, her entire body jolts. The room is dead silent, then you hear it, a heartbeat, a pulse on that machine, a steady beep… beep… beep…

You start sobbing in relief, uncaring what anyone thought at that moment. Doctor Gojo checks for signs of brain activity, rubbing her throat then, feeling her pulse. He grins at you, brightening that room with those glinting white teeth. He gestures for you to come over now, as Yula barely opens her eyes, gasping for breath then, leaning up on her elbows.

“What… where’s my baby?” She whispers, her lips are blue, but she’s talking, cognizant, aware. You feel chills through your body, goosebumps you rub gingerly with sore arms.

The first thing she asks, her baby. She’s gonna be a damn good mom, and she gets to be a mom. You push back thoughts of your own mom, taking a breath to finally speak.

“Your baby is nice and healthy, she’s strong. Like her mom.” You say softly, holding her hand delicately in your own, the nurses are unhooking her from the plugs in the wall, wrapping tubes and wires now, so that they can take her to get checked on Doctor Gojo’s orders.

“Oh thank goodness, oh…” She’s blinking tears now, and she looks to Doctor Gojo, who is smiling softly at her.

“She saved your life.” Gojo says, and you shake your head.

“He did, truly.”

“Well, a little, but mostly her.” He nudges you a bit playfully, and she’s smiling, holding her hands out to both of you.

“Thank you both so, so much. Thank you.” The nurses who all were not listening are quiet now, but you don’t blame them, many of them have done this for years, and you were new.

But something feels so good knowing she is okay, that she will live to see her baby, a fucking rush knowing you saved her, that Doctor Gojo had helped you, despite you going against certain protocol. You look up at him now, and his lips part as he studies you, seriously.

“We will get you to some tests, then you can hold your baby. How’s that sound, Miss Yula?” Satoru says, turning his attention to her, and she nods, grinning so big. She’s pale, she looks weak, but she’s strong and she’s alive.

“Thank you both so much. I can’t wait to meet my baby! Was it a…” Your heart pounds now, realizing she didn’t even see the baby yet.

“It’s a boy. You will see him very soon.” They wheel her away, Miwa is about to leave when Gojo pauses her.

“You will not do that again, I don’t care if she’s new, she is your doctor. Do you understand?” He asks, he’s quiet, so no one hears, and she is blinking back tears now, lip trembling.

“You’re being mean to me.” You try not to scoff, acting like you can’t hear a thing she says, Satoru doesn’t hide his scoff.

“Mean? It’s lives we’re talking about, not personal things.” He says, dropping his voice even quieter, as you work on putting in orders for medicines for Yula, you pretend you don’t hear, but something in you is curious.

“She’s insane.”

Ouch.

“She’s my best intern, and I like insane.” You can’t lie about how elated you are when you hear him. Doctor Gojo might come off as silly, or goofy, but he was the best, and the praise meant so much, even if insane may not be a compliment, from him it seemed like one. “How many times have I pulled a stunt like that?”

“You’re Doctor Gojo.”

“She went through the same schooling, she earned her place here. I am disappointed. I’ll have to assign you elsewhere if you keep on with it, you’ve repeatedly not listened to her. Understood?”

She looks at you, then looks down, nodding. “I get it, fine… but, can I see you later?” Her voice drops another octave, just a breath really.

“I’m busy today, but just know I’m not mad at you, okay? Just you need to trust her judgment, I only brought the best here.” He has his hands on her shoulders gently, she nods, then walks by you.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just seen… a lot of situations where that doesn’t work.” She says, and you shake your head.

“It’s okay, I am kind of batshit crazy to keep going so long. I think I really… because of the baby…”

“I understand. I’ll trust you next time.” She whispers, giving you a little hug now, surprising you. “You saved her.”

“Thank you, Miwa.” You give her a little smile as she leaves, and it’s just you and Satoru now, as the heavy hospital door slams shut. Satoru has his hands in the pockets of his white lab coat, leaning against the counter of the hospital room, looking at you. “I know, I know… I was reckless.”

“Completely reckless, and honestly she’s right. You’re insane.” He says, you flush then, looking down.

“Is this going to fuck up my chance to scrub in? I’m so sorry-”

“Why did you go so hard?” He’s suddenly right in front of you, the pounding of adrenaline racing through your body makes you overheated, lightheaded, to the point you feel a little dizzy.

“She just had that baby, Satoru. Fuck… Gojo. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” He brushes your hair back, it’s fallen out of its bun. “You want me to fix your hair?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I asked if you wanted me to.” You nod then, turning, and Satoru is taking your hair out of your bun now, gathering it gently. “So you wanted to try insane shit because she had a baby?”

“Yes. Sorry I’m such a mess.”

“You just gave four hundred compressions, you should be a mess. Now, is it just because you love babies so much?” He asks, long fingers massaging your scalp, you can’t help but shut your eyes. It feels so good.

“I do love babies, but no. My mother died having me, from the same thing, placental abruption. I was in the NICU for a long, long time. My dad had to care for me alone, poor guy had no clue what to do. I snapped, honestly, it wasn’t professional in any way, Gojo.”

He’s quiet, as he fixes your hair back up, now his big, sure hands are massaging your sore arms, you exhale, tilting your neck side to side. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I never knew her. All I have are stories, I never even got held in her arms, just like Yula’s baby would have been.” Your voice is hoarse, your body is tired, you feel his gentle touch and crave more of it.

“You call your patients their names, not ‘patient’.”

“Yes. They have names, we should use them. Don’t you?”

“I do. But… you know that you are letting your emotions guide you, rather than your brain.”

“I’m so sorry-”

“I like that.”

“What now!?” You turn to look at him in shock, and he’s very serious, more serious than you’re used to seeing him. Even in surgery, his confidence carried over, and he could crack jokes as you would watch him through the glass. You were always amazed by that, the confidence, the skill, the ability to laugh even.

“I like that you said fuck protocol and tried your best to save someone, shit that’s why I’m as good at what I do as I am. I said fuck all these rules. Sometimes saving someone means trusting your gut.” He’s tilting your chin up, and for some insane moment you want to kiss him, is it the adrenaline, is it his praise, is it your heart racing so much you’re stupid?

You eye his plush lips, barely registering his words.

“You like that I’m too emotional? Isn’t that the opposite of what I’m supposed to be as a doctor?” You whisper, and he shakes his head then, leaning close.

“You’re unique, special. I find you intriguing actually, and exactly what I want in an intern. I’ll have to cover for your ass though with Yaga.”

“Ugh, I know.” You sigh now. “You’re about to take over as chief of surgery, aren’t you? I don’t want to fuck anything up.”

“Nah, no worries there, I have been getting away with shit for eight years. I’m the best so they do whatever the fuck I want to keep me.” He smirks, and you smile up at him, enjoying the close proximity far too much. “You owe me.”

“Anything! Oh, nothing pervy.”

His lips quirk up. “How dare you assume.”

“Well, Miwa is probably upset, you may not get a bj.” He snorts then, dropping your chin and rolling his pretty blue eyes.

“She absolutely was in the wrong to question you, and she knows. As for… well we don’t have a relationship, I don’t really date.”

You raise a brow curiously. “You just fuck?”

“Lots of fucking.” You snort, shaking your head.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You should try it, you’re too stiff, you should loosen up.”

“Bet you- actually, you know what, no. I’m too happy to argue. Maybe I should go relieve some stress, shit.” Gojo laughs again, and you giggle now. “I’m losing my mind at this career.”

“That’s what good doctors do.” He taps your nose.

“Why do you do that?” You ask curiously.

“You’re cute when it scrunches up. Now, I want you to go out to eat with me sometime, that’s all I ask.” You sigh, tilting your head.

“Why, you’re Dr. Hojo, you can have anyone go out to eat with you, and do much more than I would, I’m sure.”

“Maybe I just wanna know what makes you tick, intern. Especially now that I saw you in action like that.” You nervously bite your lip, as you think of just being around him outside of this hospital, what would that even be like?

“Sure, we can go out to eat some time. Are you going to the party tomorrow?” You ask, and he nods.

“I’ll be there to make it fun. Now, you go put in your notes, I’ll go mitigate this with Yaga before it blows up.” He gently rubs your shoulder, walking past you now towards the door.

“Doctor Gojo?” He turns then. “Thank you, so much.”

Satoru smiles at you, nodding his head a bit. “You’re welcome intern, you owe me though, I’ll be annoying you about it.”

“Can’t wait.” You tease, he chuckles as he walks by, you nearly collapse, so overwhelmed, plopping down into the rolling chair and covering your face.

You saved someone. That eclipses it all, this is what you wanted to do, always, to save people, like your mom that day. No, not everyone is going to get saved, but if you can just do your fucking best, you feel good. You look at your watch, only one hour left of this insane day.

The night of the party

You’re rushing to get out of the hospital, to hurry and get to the party Maki, Yuta and Toge have started without you. You brought party clothes with you, so you quickly change into the outfit, a slinky little red dress that glitters even under the icky fluorescent lights above. You run over to the mirror, slathering on some concealer, mascara, and lip gloss.

You then dig through your bag, retrieving a brush, running it through your hair and attempting to look human, to look…

“Damn, intern, you look hot.” Gojo’s voice comes behind you, you gasp, jerking and dropping the brush, it clatters to the floor. He smirks at you.

“You scared me, shit!” He bends down, grabbing your brush, and for a moment his breath hits your bare thighs, you tremble as he looks up at your bare legs, taking his time to stand.

“Nice stems.” He says, you roll your eyes, snatching up the brush.

“Oh hush.” You turn, running it through your hair once more, peering at Gojo’s reflection, feeling how small you are compared to him in that mirror. “You bringing Miwa to the party?”

“She’ll be there I’m sure, but I told you, we aren’t dating. One blow job doesn’t make a girlfriend.”

“Only one, hmm? You have more stones to collect.” He chuckles, shaking his head, you turn then, slinging your bag over your shoulder, far too close to him. “God, you always smell good.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing!” You panic, shoving past him, and he is grinning far too big now, taking off his white lab coat, revealing those strong muscles, veins popping out under the pale skin, and since when are veins attractive!?

Everything about him is.

Be immune to the charm.

“I wanna show you something before you go, can you wait just a second? Or so eager to get to the party?” He asks, going to his locker, sliding off his shirt, your throat goes dry, you look quickly away.

“Just eager to make sure they don’t destroy my house.”

“Are you giving me a tour of your room?”

“No infinity stones to be found here.” He snorts, you look back and see him in his boxers, looking away again.

“All right, I’m decent. You’re cute when you blush.”

“I’m just… overheated.”

“Uh huh.” You look to see him now, as he shuts his locker and he’s wearing a dark blue dress shirt, black slacks and boots, he runs a brush through his hair, you’re entranced as his silky strands slide through so effortlessly. “There, all done, how do I look?”

“You look good, Gojo. You always do though.”

“Sure do.” You can’t help but laugh, he’s ridiculous. He grabs his wallet, shoving it in his pocket, holding out a hand. You look at it. “Come on.”

“Oh, fine. It better be good I’m already running late.” You put your hand in his, and he drags you down several halls, until you’re both in an elevator, still holding hands, you pull yours away, glaring at him. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Gojo.”

“Ouch, you wound me, mean little intern.” He puts a hand on his chest. “I’m so offended, I didn’t say that to you!”

“You fuck whoever, and that’s cool, I get it. You’re hot, and this job is stressful as shit.”

“You think I’m hot, hmm?” He leans close, far too close, you glare at him again, pushing on his chest, ignoring how good his muscles feel under your palms.

“You know you are.”

“Yeah, I do. And of course I wanna fuck you, look at you. But I also just want to… get to know you.” He cups your face, and your eyes shut for just a moment. “I know you’re a goodie goodie.”

“Am not.”

“So you’re freaky?”

“You won’t find out.”

“Oh no?”

“Nope.” He leans closer, and your chin tilts up, lips just a breath from him, so close you taste his sweet breath.

“Then why do you look like you wanna kiss me so bad, intern?” He murmurs, you lean even closer, before the elevator stops, and you step back, struggling to compose yourself, turning away. “Aw, you okay?”

“Fuck you, Dr. Hojo.”

He laughs once more. “Come on, I’ll stop teasing.”

“You’re such an ass.” You huff, stomping out, then pausing when you realize where you are. “The maternity ward?”

He smiles, hand now gently holding your inner arm, you ignore how good his hand feels on your bare skin. “I think you should see something.”

Soon he’s led you to a room, then you see them.

Yula holding her little baby.

“Oh my god.” You smile up at him, he studies you carefully, nodding over to where they’re sitting in the hospital bed.

“Go say hi, you deserve it.” His hand is at the small of your back, as you walk inside the room, Gojo stays at the doorway, watching you. Yula lights up when she sees you, grinning so big.

“You downplayed what you did, everyone is calling you a miracle worker, Doctor.” She says to you, you shake your head, stopping in front of them, looking at the beautiful baby boy, his cherubic little cheeks hollowing as he sucks on a bright blue binkie, then you look back at Yula.

“It was nothing, just my job.”

“No, it wasn’t nothing. If not for you… I…” She blinks back tears now, and you barely hold in your own.

“Don’t upset yourself, please. You have been through a lot, mama.”

“You should hold him!” Yula says.

“Me? I…”

“Here.” She sits up carefully, and you pick up the little boy, Yula smiles at Gojo and waves him in. “His name is Gojo.”

“What?” Gojo blinks a bit himself, coming to stand beside you and looking down at him, Gojo carefully brushes the baby’s cheek, his hands bigger than the little baby almost. You smile up at him, and for a moment, your eyes lock, then you both flush, looking away. “After me?”

“Yes, you were amazing. I’d have named it after you if it was a girl!”

“Oh, goodness. He is handsome, huh Gojo?” You coo to the baby, Gojo’s hand again comes to the small of your back, he is leaning over your shoulder, looking down at the bundle in your arms.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Knowing you did a good thing here.” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod then, smiling back at him.

“Thank you for this, Gojo. And thank you, Yula.”

“Thank you both, you're getting Christmas gifts from me.” You both laugh softly, saying your goodbyes, and when the elevator closes again, you let the little tears fall. Satoru swipes at them, and you sigh.

“Fuck it.” You yank him down by his shirt, kissing his lips, expecting it to feel nice, or good… but instead, it’s electrifying, as if little shocks are radiating throughout your entire body. Satoru exhales, deepening the kiss, pressing you against the wall, hands at your waist, peering back to look down at you, to take a breath.

“Fuck…” He murmurs softly, brushing your cheek with his long fingers, running a thumb over your lower lip. “What did I do to earn something that sweet?”

“You did a lot for me. Thank you.” He kisses your lips again, but now his tongue slips in, and you feel desire pooling in your core, especially when his hands are trailing up your sides, and his tongue is dancing with yours. You pull back, gasping. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t fucking apologize. Please.” He kisses you deeper now, and you lose yourself for that moment, his teeth on your bottom lip, your arms wrapping around his neck as he bends low. Your hands entwine in that silky hair, the hair you have wondered how good would feel under your fingers, his thigh coming between your thighs. “Oh my god…”

“Mmm.” You whine out, pathetic, hips arching up, and you feel him, his hard thigh, those hands overtaking you, tasting him, a hand enwrapping in your hair.

“You’re so hot there…” He murmurs, a hand sliding down your tummy, making it tremble, and you are questioning everything, until the elevator dings, and you both pull away quickly, but Satoru looks completely affected, eyes dilated, his breaths heavy as they come out, mirroring you.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Yeah you should have.”

“No… but thank you. Really.” You touch his shoulder gently. “I will not be an infinity stone.”

“Think you’d be the whole gauntlet.”

“Oh whatever. Forget that, please.”

“No way.”

You both are walking out to your cars then, you’re fucking insane, you kissed Satoru Gojo, your boss! You kissed him. He’s walking you to your car now, opening your door, and you can barely meet his pretty eyes, so embarrassed. “I really shouldn’t have done that.”

“You were feeling something, emotions, gratitude… attraction.” He practically says the word like a caress, you feel it physically. “More probably. What’s wrong with feeling things?” He asks then, and you sigh.

“Feeling things for someone who you can’t be with, that sounds like torture.”

“Is it all that?”

“Yes. You should… forget it.”

“I’m not forgetting it. I’ll see you there?” You nod, shy as fuck now, surprised at yourself, touching your lips when you shut the car door, his kiss is lingering on your lips, like some drug you crave.

You gasp when he’s still standing there, grinning at you through your window. You roll it down, scowling. “Go on!”

“You were thinking about it.” He says in a sing-song voice.

“Was not!”

“Mmm, naughty intern-”

You rev up your loud ass car. “Can’t hear you!” He’s grinning far too big when you drive off, heart pounding.

You kissed your boss, and now you’re going to a party with him?

You have lost your mind?

“Bitch, you look so hot.” Maki runs over to you, shoving a questionable red solo cup in your hands, making you wince.

“Bad memories. You look hot too!” You kiss her cheek now, as there are people all over your house, dancing, laughing, most of whom you have no clue who they are. Some loud bass music is blaring, and it’s giving you a bit of a headache, but the energy is good, and you can see your roommates enjoying themselves.

Yuta is taking shots with Toge, you both walk over as Maki takes a sip from her own cup, her eyes sparkling. “Drink it!”

“Oh fine.” You take a sip, feeling the sweet, fruity drink. At first it’s fine, but then you can feel the burn of the alcohol. “Not bad.”

“Yeah, yeah, chug it bitch.”

“No!”

“Then take shots, pretty.” Yuta says, and you giggle, shaking your head. “What, you look pretty? Both of you do.”

“Pretty.” Toge says, blush on his cheeks when you kiss one, then Yuta’s.

“Aww thank you all.” Toge runs off then, leaving you confused, staring at Yuta and Maki who are whispering to each other. “What’d I do!?”

“He’s got it bad.” Maki says, seriously.

“What? No.”

“He does, poor guy. No chance.” Yuta says, you sigh.

“You all are silly, he does not. I would know, I live with him. He’s just a little… shy sometimes.”

“Exactly. You’re so evil to men.” You stick your tongue out at Yuta.

“Whatever! Am not.” You sip your drink, it starts tasting less biting as the alcohol warms your tummy.

“You’re mean as shit to Gojo. He’s got puppy dog eyes for you.” Maki says, as Satoru now walks in, Suguru right next to him.

“He has eyes for everyone.” You flush then, remembering the elevator vividly, as Satoru’s eyes catch yours across the room. “He’s my boss. Our boss.”

“The entire hospital is fucking.” Maki says, earning your look at her and Yuta, your eyes narrowing, assessing how close they are. “Not us!”

“Oh, you two so are. Since when!?” They both flush and look away, you cross your arms now, leaning forward. “In my house, terrible children.”

“Fuck off, you’re not our mom.” Maki sticks her tongue out.

“How long!”

“Like two weeks, chill.” Yuta clears his throat.

“I see something… over there.” Is all he says, then he leaves, and you scooch closer to Maki now.

“I tell you something, you tell me.”

You lean close, looking back at Satoru, Miwa is bouncing over to him, but for some reason he keeps looking at you, eyes shouldn’t be so intense you see them across the whole living room and dining room!? You have a pretty big house, but it seems small with this many people, overheating the area.

“Fine, we’ve had sex a lot, but only for a couple weeks, we’re not labeling it anything.”

“Oh…” You struggle to understand how your best friends are… hooking up. It doesn’t surprise you completely, though. “Not dating?”

Maki rolls her green eyes. “It doesn’t always have to be a relationship, you’re so old school.”

“Am not. I just… have a five date rule or so.”

“Bet Doctor Hojo breaks it.”

“Maki!”

“Time for your secret, and a shot.” She pours you both tequila, you shiver as you remember college with Maki, the amount of nights you’d both held each other’s hair as you got sick. “Don’t wuss out, you’re the hero doctor now.”

“Am not at all. Fine, bottoms up.” You both take shots down your throat, biting on your lemons now. “Blegh.”

“Baby.”

“I won’t tell you then!” You hiss, and she yanks you to her.

“You will!”

“Oh fine. I kissed him, there I said it.” You whisper, looking around fervently, as if someone can hear you whisper over booming music, Maki barely hears you, but she sees your gaze darts to Satoru, and his gaze hits you.

“Oh fuck… that’s so messy, you gonna hit it?” You shush her as he starts to walk toward you all, luckily he keeps getting stopped, everyone loves Doctor Gojo and him and Doctor Geto are getting swarmed by nurses and interns.

“No, no… it was a kiss. Maki he was so great to me yesterday, I think I really like him, but I can’t.”

“You can, just gotta be careful babes.”

“No, he’s… Maki he’s a slut.”

“Rude.” Sartoru says then, and you nearly spit out your drink, coughing then, Maki’s grin is huge, she pushes her glasses up, eyeing Gojo then.

“Hey Dr. Hunk.”

“It’s Dr. Hojo.” You glare at her, and Satoru slings an arm around your shoulders, lanky limbs overtaking you.

“She’s mean as hell, your bestie.” He says to Maki.

“She is, that's why I love her. Hmm, you should have shots with us!”

“Sounds good-”

“What, no!”

“Why? Scared I’ll out drink you?” He asks.”

“You absolutely could, I suck at drinking.”

“Even better, loosen you up-”

“Shots!” Maki hands you both shot glasses now, and you both down them, Satoru then bites a lemon and it’s far too sexy how he does, you feel your tummy clench just watching him suck one. “Hmm, I see… something over there.”

Maki dips now, leaving you alone with Satoru, and you don’t even know what to say, so nervous next to him. You keep looking at his lips, then down, and he surely notices, as they curl into a smirk. “You gonna give me the tour, pretty?”

“Pretty, thought I was just ‘intern’ to you.”

“You’re pretty, very pretty, little intern.” Satoru bars you against the counter now, and your hips shift side to side. “Aw, excited?”

“Shush. People can see!”

“Everyone’s fucking in this hospital.”

“No kidding.” You pout as you look at Yuta and Maki. “Some right in my own damn house.”

“You’re like an angry mom.”

“Hey!” You shove at him now, and then you see him sip a drink, watch that adam’s apple bob, and fuck…

Gojo’s gorgeous, and you haven’t had any in forever.

Usually you’re good, a nice smut story and a vibrator, but he does something to you, that makes you forget who you are, where you are. You still ease out of his trap now, sighing and shaking your head. “Not here.”

“Oh, not here? Are you planning on seducing me, intern?”

“Psh, you wish. I mean… we can talk somewhere else.”

“Talk, huh. That’s what the twenty somethings call it.”

“You’re so ridiculous, ugh… I mean… talk. Will Miwa get mad?” You ask, and he rolls his eyes.

“You really seem to think a blow job equals dating.”

“Yeah, well she’s already not a fan of me.” You take his hand now, walking him down the hall, where there are indeed people making out, including Miwa. You blink a bit then, and Satoru leans in close.

“Told you. The hospital is slutty.”

“Not me.”

“You’re so different.”

“Fuck off.” You laugh softly though, continuing through the hall, pointing at a room now. “Down there is the basement, where I hide my bodies.”

“Called it, serial killers have those steady hands.” You stick your tongue out, enjoying holding his hand far too much, he seems just as enamored as you, following you through each hall.

“There is Maki’s room, Yuta’s is there, and Toge’s is across from mine.”

“He’s in love with you, you know that yeah?”

“Why do people think that? He’s just a sweetie. And this… well this was my parents room, I just leave it be.” You murmur then, taking another sip of your drink, and Gojo frowns now.

“Can I see it?”

“Um… it’s all covered in sheets since forever, dusty and abandoned unfortunately so… nothing to see.”

“Curious if you look like your mom or dad.”

“Are you?” He nods a bit, and you bite your lip, shaking your head. “I can show you a picture of them, I have one in my room.”

“Dad’s gone too?” He asks, and you sigh, nodding, walking into your room, feeling the intimacy suddenly of such an action. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, really. My grandparents raised me. They’re good, they just moved out to Florida, retired.”

“You’re alone here?”

“No, I have my friends. Here, this was them.” You show him a little picture then, it’s frayed at the edges, of your mom and dad holding each other at prom. “They were really young here.”

“She was beautiful, you do look like her.” You get misty eyed at that, touching the picture, before shaking your head.

“Fuck you’re supposed to be here for fun, not me crying. What’s with me today?” Satoru turns you to him then, after you put the picture down, and you exhale, desire killing you, it’s like something is pulling you to him.

“Nothing is wrong with feeling things. I didn’t come here for a party, I came here to get to know you.”

“Why do you want to? Maybe I’m boring.”

“I doubt all that. So you tell me, intern, what do you want to do? Talk, look at pictures, give me a blow job?”

“As if!” He laughs then, and you realize it then... “You’re cheering me up, aren’t you Gojo?”

“Mmhmm.”

“You do that. A lot.”

“I’m glad.”

“You also annoy me.” Satoru’s pressing your back against your dresser, and you’re all too aware how hard his body is, how he’s muddling your mind. “What you wanna like… just fuck as friends or something?”

“I didn’t say that. You assume. Maybe I want to kiss you all night.” Your head falls back, Satoru is kissing you again, this time you let yourself go, feeling every bit of him, the kiss is more messy, more desperate than the elevator. Your teeth are nipping at his lower lip, earning a soft moan, as he grips your hips tightly, thumbs pressing into your pelvis.

“Mnh, we shouldn’t…”

“We shouldn’t. But… you’re really ready.”

“Ugh.” You’re a blushing mess now. “It’s been a while and… you’re really hot and…”

He chuckles. “You’re adorable. Let me make you cum, then, hmm?”

“Wh-what now?” You gasp when he’s picking you up, hoisting you on the dresser, spreading your thighs. “Gojo…”

“Satoru.”

“Doctor Hojo.”

He smirks, hands trailing up your thighs, your head falls back just so, hair cascading down your back, sighing at how good it feels. “You’re a brat.”

“You’re the bratty one. What do you mean just… get me off.”

“Stress relief. Why not let me help? I am a doctor.” You blush furiously, and he smiles. “Cute.”

“I’m not your patient…”

“Roleplay.”

“You kinky little- ah!” Satoru slides his hand between your thighs, cupping you where your panties are, and he pauses, mouth open slightly, snowy lashes lowering over dark blue eyes in the dim room.

“You’re that wet from kissing?” He whispers, you shut your eyes, taking his hand, with every intention of pulling it off, but you just keep it there, around his strong wrist, feeling his pulse flutter under your thumb.

“I don’t do this.”

“I’ll just finger you.”

“You gonna get me off with your fingers?” His smirk is now a wicked grin, his fingers slipping under your panties, finding you slick and hot. He exhales.

“I know anatomy extremely well. And no, it doesn’t have to change things, I can still be professional.” He slips a finger inside your pussy now, you’re clenching around him, moaning, covering your mouth then. “Fuck you’re tight.”

“Pro-profes… you!? Not… mmm… fuck it, yes, there!” You’re arching your hips up, he is watching your every move intensely, analyzing you like you’re a medical case for him to solve, every breath you take, every movement of your hips, the way your brows draw together. He’s crooking his finger just so, and you see stars, gushing all around his long finger that’s too fucking deep.

“There’s that spot.” He leans close, sliding two fingers inside now, your pussy greedily sucks it up, your hands clinging to his expensive dress shirt, his lips just an inch away. “It’s not on any anatomy, is it, this spot? But yours is easy to find, pretty, right there.” He hits it again, and you’re getting closer and closer, whining out, pulling him closer. 

“Mpfh.” You can’t manage a syllable, it’s too good, the stretch, his nearness, you crave him so bad you can’t think.

“Want me to make you cum?” He asks, sultry voice as much of a caress as his soppy fingers.

You nod eagerly, then he kisses you, pulling your hips down, pumping his fingers in and out, hitting the spot over and over. “Satoru…”

“Fuck that sounds good from your mouth.” He kisses down your neck, before whispering in your ear. “So this is a place on the human anatomy, your clitoris. There it is, it’s a tiny little thing.”

“Fuck!” You’re clinging to him desperate, pathetic, as his other hand reaches down, thumb circling your clit. Your eyes lock then, his pupils are so big there’s just a ring of blue, his eyes almost look black, his cheeks flushed.

“When I use both, it can overstimulate you, can’t it?” You mindlessly nod, tears in your eyes as he’s working you. “Hear how wet you are?”

“Mmm…” You’re done with words, his long fingers are too good, and you can hear how wet you are in your room, the squishing sound as he pumps inside your little walls, and you’re soaking his hands.

“I feel it, there, your pussy is tightening up, your nipples are rock hard, you’re biting that lip. You’re about to cum for me, aren’t you?” He murmurs, studying you still, and then you shatter, earning his moan along with your cries, as you feel your orgasm hit so hard you can’t see, just clinging to his dress shirt wordlessly. “Fuck you’re pretty, look at you.”

“Satoru!” You barely manage to focus, when he’s rubbing your pussy up and down between your lips, you jerk you’re so sensitive, you damn near could come again. “Fuck, fuck…”

“Sensitive?” You weakly nod, and now he is sliding his two fingers inside his mouth, sucking, and your jaw drops, breasts heaving. “You’re so yummy.”

“I am?” You whisper, he nods, and takes his other hand that was on your clit, rubbing your own arousal on your lower lip.

“Taste yourself and see.”

You lick your lower lip tentatively, pussy still pulsing around nothing, then he growls, grabbing you, kissing you over and over. You’re a fucking mess, so weak now, you want to say fuck it, suck him, touch him, do anything to make him feel good, you want him inside you.

Your legs are wrapping around his narrow hips now, hands shaking when you’re unbuttoning his shirt, fuck you’re so ready you can’t even remember anything you said you would or wouldn’t do. 

“Want you.” You whisper weakly, he exhales, big hands cupping your face.

“Yeah?” You nod again, and he’s kissing down your throat now, pulling you flush against him, your throbbing cunt right against where you feel him, his hard cock under his pants, you weakly grind, mind fuzzy from him. “You feel so good, shit I thought you didn’t-”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Shit…” You hop up now, adjusting yourself, looking in the mirror to see your fucked out, dilated eyes, all glittery, your cheeks flushed, your hair a mess from his hands. “I look like I got fucked, dammit.”

“You didn’t yet, imagine how you’d look when I got done with you.” He’s kissing down your neck now, images flying in your mind, as the door keeps knocking, then you hear Maki’s words.

“Someone passed out! We need you, please!” Maki’s words are like cold water, you and Satoru both rush out without a second thought. “Fuck… I’m sorry-”

“No, what’s wrong?” You and Gojo ask at the same time, she looks between you both for a moment.

“It’s embarrassing…” She admits.

“What is?” You ask, as she leads you to Yuta’s room, confusing you further.

“I may have been riding him and…”

Yuta is passed out, half naked on the bed. “Maki, did you kill him with your pussy!?”

“No! Maybe.”

Satoru chuckles, going up to him then, and peeking at his neck. “Did you all get freaky?”

“No!”

“Maki.” You glare at her, shutting the door now. She flushes, tilting her head back and sighing.

“I choked him, he likes it!”

“I think he’s just zonked from it. He’s responding fine. Hmm…” He says your name then, the man that just had you cumming on his fingers…

Fuck…

“Grab some ice.” You run down stairs, come right back up with a cup of ice, handing it to Satoru confusedly. “Watch and learn, interns.”

Satoru now throws the entire cup of ice on Yuta’s face, and he sputters, waking up and gasping. Satoru’s evilly chuckling, Maki is damn near in tears, and you��re watching with ongoing confusion, alcohol setting in, post bliss orgasm, thrown off that you just found Satoru throwing ice attractive.

“Thank you, shit!” Maki hugs Gojo tightly, as Yuta flushes, looking around at the three of you.

“Maki! I was fine.”

“You scared me!” She’s kissing him then, deeply, and Satoru and you gently walk back, you close their door with a quiet click, sighing and looking up at him.

“What made you think to do that?”

“I’ve had freaky sex.” He teases. “I’m kidding, I just saw the marks from her fingers on his throat, put two and two together.”

“You’re like Sherlock Holmes.” He shrugs then, and his phone starts buzzing, he frowns as he looks at it. “What’s wrong?”

“I gotta head out, nothing big.” He leans close, and you look down shyly, lashes casting shadows under your eyes.

“Then good night, and be safe?” You say, he nods, running a finger over your swollen lower lip then. “Satoru…”

“You still owe me a date, I’m no hussy. Can’t have that and not go out with me.” You feel far too good now, as he’s asking you out.

“But we shouldn’t.”

“And you shouldn’t have been insane yesterday, but it worked. Be a little crazy, just… a date.” You nod then, and he leans his forehead on yours. “Also, your anatomy? Perfect.”

Your pulse thrums in your neck, chest tightening as he says it. “No, certainly not perfect…”

“Mmm, it is, and I would know. An expert on female anatomy.”

“Well thank you, slutty doctor.” He snorts, pecking a kiss on your lips, one that you would never be able to get out of your head.

“I expect a better tour sometime.”

“Keep dreaming. But… lunch, I agreed.”

“Sunday work?”

“Yeah.”

“Text you then.” Satoru leaves then, and leaves you leaning on the hall, suddenly the door opens, and Maki and Yuta peek their heads out.

“A date!?”

“You should be passed out, freaky asses.” You shove them back in their room, running off to yours as they try to bombard you with questions, you lay on your back, staring up at your ceiling, the glow sticker stars from your childhood still decorating the ceiling, you never did take them off.

You like him, you really like him. But you need your career, it’s just beginning, and would this just fuck it all up? Could you keep this shit separated? You can’t do this, you can’t…

Your eyes shut, flitting images of Doctor Gojo enjoying your anatomy filling your mind, keeping you up half the damn night, as you hear it get quieter, assuming the party has died off. You lay on your side, looking out at the window, seeing the moonlight shining through just so.

Your phone goes off, and it’s your stupid ex, earning your scowl, as you delete it, but then a new message pops up.

Doctor Gojo: Let me know if you need anatomy lessons again, intern.

You snort, shaking your head.

You: You wish!

Doctor Gojo: Hmm, still taste you.

You: Oh my god, good night Doctor Hojo!!!

You hate that your heart hammers in your chest as he hearts your message.

You’re so fucked.

Taglist: @lost-resonance @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis @miizuzu @nanasukii28 @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @labelt-san @moncher-ire @jkslaugh97 @aldebrana @shadeowz @gojo1228 @victoriaaaa00 @jaeminaur @seeing-stars-alt

Part Three

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

Hi! I just saw you’re taking requests and I’m so excited!

I have two ideas if you’re feeling them both ot8 x reader of course!

1. Is reader moving in with the boys , I think it would be real cute

2. The reader finding out she’s pregnant and then having to tell the boys

𝕆𝕙 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪!

Warning: comfort/fluff

Summary: Request!

A/N: This was kind of rushed so i'm going to turn it into a mini series because i really do have a-lot to add when it comes to everything that has to do with their relationships, the baby itself and Y/n. If you would like to be added to this separate taglist comment down below!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Baby, your tummy feels weird,” I.N said, a frown knitting his brows together as he tilted his head slightly to look up at her.

They were cuddled together on the couch, enjoying a lazy day at home. I.N’s head rested on Y/N’s lap while she absentmindedly stroked the back of his head, something he always adored. But today, he didn’t seem quite right.

“What do you mean, love?” Y/N giggled, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on his frown, hoping to erase it.

“I don’t know… it just feels hard and strange,” he replied, poking at her abdomen gently, causing her to flinch.

“Baby, stop that!” she laughed, swatting his finger away playfully.

“Seriously! It’s so hard and not squishy like it usually is,” he said, shrugging his shoulders with concern. “Are you on your period?”

“No, my love, not yet. Maybe it’s just because I’ve eaten too much?” she suggested, trying to lighten the mood.

“Hmm, maybe,” he agreed, resting his head back on her lap. They spent the rest of the afternoon watching movies, snuggled under a cozy blanket. But when Chan called, asking if they could pick up some groceries for dinner, they reluctantly decided to get dressed and head out.

“I like having you home,” Y/N said, intertwining their fingers as they walked to the store.

“I like being home with you,” I.N replied, planting a gentle kiss on her temple. The walk was short, but Y/N felt every step weighing her down.

“Are you okay?” I.N chuckled, noticing her panting slightly as they reached the store. “You look a little out of breath.”

“Yes, just a bit winded! Damn, how long has it been since we walked to the store?” she gasped for air, trying to play it off.

“We were just here last week for shampoo, babe,” I.N teased, a grin spreading across his face.

“Oh my God, maybe I’m just getting fat because that felt like a workout,” she sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes. I.N laughed softly and grabbed the shopping basket like the gentleman he was, following her as she picked out everything they needed—and a few treats for Felix’s baking cabinet.

Once they got home and put away the groceries, Y/N flopped onto the couch. “Can we take a nap?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled against the cushions.

“Babe, we just woke up from one!” I.N said, furrowing his brows in confusion.

“I know, but I still feel really tired. That was a workout, and my back aches,” she huffed, stretching out on the couch.

“Your back aches?” His tone shifted from playful to worried in an instant. “How bad is it?”

“Just a little bit. It’s nothing serious,” she reassured him with a pout, pulling him toward his room. “Cuddle me, please.”

“Alright, but let me grab some cream for your back first. Remove your shirt,” he instructed, and she nodded, slipping off her shirt and lying down comfortably.

When I.N returned with the cream, he lay beside her, his warm hands gently starting to massage the area where her back ached. She let out soft whimpers of relief, her eyes fluttering shut as he worked his magic.

“Is that better?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Mmm, much better,” she sighed contentedly, feeling her body relax beneath his touch. Before long, she succumbed to sleep, her breathing steady and peaceful. Satisfied, I.N tidied up the room and put everything away, glancing back at her with a smile before heading downstairs to await the others.

When the boys finally made it home, the sound of laughter filled the air. Chan peeked into I.N's room, raising an eyebrow when he saw Y/N still asleep, a content smile on her face.

“Did you take good care of her?” Chan asked, crossing his arms with a smirk.

“Yeah, she took another nap. She said she was tired,” I.N replied casually as he flipped through the channels on the TV.

“Tired again?” Leeknow asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yeah, we went to the store, and she said her back ached, so I gave her a massage and put her to sleep,” I.N explained, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Maybe her period is about to come. I’ll check the app later,” Leeknow suggested. He leaned in to give I.N a quick kiss before heading up to his room, making sure to check in on Y/N before disappearing to take a shower.

“How was your day, guys?” I.N asked as the rest of the boys slowly started to filter into the room.

“Missed you,” Han said automatically, crawling onto I.N’s lap and snuggling in without a second thought.

“I missed you too, baby,” I.N replied with a smile, wrapping his arms around Han.

“I’ll go check on Y/N,” Felix announced, hopping up and making his way to I.N’s room. Once inside, he climbed onto the bed, instantly cuddling up against her.

Y/N stirred slightly, opening her eyes to see Felix’s tousled blonde hair in her face. She let out a soft giggle before speaking. “Hey, bub,” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Hi, hi, hi!” Felix cheered, showering her with light kisses. Knowing how much he loved to be the little spoon, she turned and held him close.

“Missed you,” she murmured, running her fingers through his hair.

“Missed you too,” he replied, wrapping his leg around her waist and burying his head against her chest. She let out a soft groan as his head nestled right on her sore breasts.

What the hell was going on with her body?

“You’re cuddly today,” she chuckled, continuing to play with his hair.

“You smell nice and feel soft,” he said dreamily, slowly drifting off to sleep. Y/N smiled, allowing him to relax, knowing how exhausting practice could be. She grabbed her phone, curious to check her flow app.

As she scrolled, her jaw dropped in shock. “Oh no…” she gasped, causing Felix to stir slightly but not wake up.

The app showed that she had missed her period. But how? She was always on top of tracking it!

Panic flooded her thoughts as she glanced at the time—it was still only 7 in the evening. She needed to get pregnancy tests. Quickly but quietly, she wiggled out of Felix’s grip and rushed downstairs.

“Woah, woah, woah! Hey there!” Hyunjin chuckled as she nearly knocked into him.

“Hey, bye!” she called over her shoulder, slipping her hand from his grip as she hurried to put on her slippers.

“Are we not getting a welcome home?” Chan yelled, but she was already out the door and in her car, heart racing.

The drive was short, but her mind was racing with negative thoughts. What if? Could she really be…? She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts as she parked.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out and headed into the store, her heart pounding in her chest. The fluorescent lights felt almost too bright, but she pushed through, grabbing a couple of pregnancy tests and making her way to the self-checkout.

“Come on, come on…” she muttered under her breath, scanning the items quickly and hoping no one was judging her for the sudden purchase. After paying, she hurried back to her car, clutching the small bag tightly.

As she drove home, every worst-case scenario flooded her mind. What if she was pregnant? How would the boys react? Would they be supportive? Or would they panic?

Pulling into the driveway, she took a moment to collect herself. She couldn’t let them see her like this, all frazzled and scared. She had to stay calm.

With a deep breath, she walked inside, trying to put on a brave face. As she entered the living room, she was met with the warm chaos of her boyfriends, laughter filling the air.

"Hey, everyone!" Y/N managed to say, forcing a smile as she stepped into the living room. She hoped they wouldn't pry too much about what was in the bag she clutched tightly to her chest.

"Hey, baby!" Leeknow greeted her, the warmth in his voice putting her at ease for a moment. "I'm going to start on dinner, okay?" He leaned in and gave her a quick, reassuring kiss before heading to the kitchen.

"Where did you run off too?" Hyunjin asked, not missing a beat as he continued playing video games with Changbin. His eyes flicked to her, curiosity evident in his gaze.

"I went to get some… pads," she lied, her heart racing. She felt like she was about to pass out from the weight of the truth.

"You could've just asked me to run to the store, babe," Chan chimed in, looking up from his phone. "At least we know you've been feeling down lately because of your period."

"Yeah, I guess so," she replied, her voice slightly shaky. "I'm going to go put some on, then I'll come say hi properly."

"Wake up Felix for me! I don't want him sleeping too much," Leeknow called from the kitchen.

"Alright!" she responded, her mind already racing as she dashed upstairs to her room. Once inside the bathroom, she locked the door behind her, hands trembling as she read the instructions on the pregnancy test.

With each step, her anxiety spiked. "What am I going to do?" she whispered to herself, burying her head in her hands. It felt like the walls were closing in, and tears threatened to spill as she watched the timer tick down agonizingly slow. When it finally went off, she felt like she wasn't ready at all.

"Just rip it off like a band-aid. Don't be scared, Y/N," she encouraged herself, her voice barely above a whisper. She took a deep breath and turned over one of the tests.

"Oh no, no, no…" she gasped, her heart plummeting as she checked the other two. They all said the same thing-positive.

That was it...it was official, she was carrying a baby.

After taking a cold shower to calm down, Y/N made her way to I.N's room to wake up Felix. He was deep in sleep, snoring softly, looking utterly peaceful.

"Baby, you have to wash up and come down for dinner," she said gently, brushing her fingers through his hair. He groaned in response and rubbed his eyes, reluctantly stirring.

Once he was up, they went their opposite ways: Y/N heading downstairs to join the rest of the boys, who were chattering and playing games. She tiptoed over to Han, who was engrossed in his phone. Leaning down, she showered him with soft kisses until his cheeks flushed a deep tomato red.

"Okay, moving on!" she giggled, moving to the next person. She made sure to repeat this with all the boys, leaving a trail of smiles in her wake, before finally settling down next to Chan, who was the only one available.

"Did you have a good day today?" Chan asked, rubbing her back lightly. "Any cramps?"

"Um, no… I just stayed with Innie the whole day, watching movies. What about you?" She felt a wave of uncertainty wash over her-was this the right time to tell them?

“Oh, you know, the usual,” he replied, rolling his eyes playfully. She decided to give him a quick massage on his shoulder as they waited for Leeknow to finish dinner.

A few minutes later, Felix came bounding down the stairs, a bag in hand. Y/N’s eyes widened in panic as she shot up from her seat. No way he found them!

“Y/Nnie!” Felix squealed, his voice piercing through the room. Everyone turned to look at him, curiosity written on their faces.

“Y/Nnie, you’re pregnant?!” Felix practically shouted, his excitement making everyone’s jaws drop.

“What is he talking about?” Chan asked, looking at her with wide eyes. Y/N was in shock, quickly snatching the bag out of Felix's hand.

“Felix, how many times do I have to tell you not to go through my stuff?” she snapped, her heart racing.

“I was just grabbing my moisturizer from your bathroom…” he said, taking a step back, frowning.

“Wait, hold on. Why are you getting mad at him?” Changbin stood up, his brows furrowing. “Are you pregnant?”

I.N grabbed the bag from her, ripping it open to pull out the pregnancy tests. “Holy shit… s-she’s actually pregnant…” His eyes widened in disbelief as he lost his balance, falling back into his seat, while Chan snatched the tests from his hands.

"You didn't tell us?" Chan looked at her, disappointment etched on his face.

"I took three tests, and they all say the same thing," she replied, feeling tears welling up again. "I don't know what to do!"

Chan immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a comforting embrace.

"What's all the commotion?" Leeknow asked, walking into the room, a knife in hand.

"Y/N's pregnant," Seungmin repeated, almost in disbelief.

"What? I thought… wait, hold on…" Leeknow huffed, scanning the room for a seat as if he needed to process this news.

"I-I… I'm sorry, okay? I just took the test. I was going to tell you guys."

"When?" Han pouted, crossing his arms.

"I don't know! I freaked out! This is a lot, okay?" she huffed, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Is that why you ran out of the house?" Hyunjin asked, and she nodded, looking away.

"Holy shi- a baby? A whole baby…" Chan gasped, glancing around the room as if the walls were closing in on them.

"Is that why your stomach feels weird noona?" I.N asked looking at her curiously.

"That's probably one of the reasons yeah," she replied.

"Wah.." he gasped looking amazed. He knew something was off earlier on. He had felt it.

"I never knew it would be this soon," Seungmin said. He was honestly confused and didn't know how to feel about the situation. He just felt bad for her because she was probably scared shitless.

"okay.." Leeknow finally spoke, "we need to have a conversation about condoms and how to use them because obviously one of you slipped up," he rolled his eyes looking at the boys. They all laugh but try to hide it making it even more funnier.

Chan on the other hand looked stressed as fuck.

"Chan say something please.." She begged looking at him.

"oh baby girl, i'm just in shock thats all," he sighed wiping away her stray tears. "I can… I can abort it—"

“NO!” they all shouted in unison, causing her to flinch.

“You actually want me to keep it?” It was her turn to sit down, the weight of the situation crashing over her. Was this actually happening?

“I mean… yeah?” Changbin shrugged. “I don’t mind it.”

“I wouldn’t mind having a kid running around,” Felix added, his face lighting up at the thought.

"That would actually be sick, imagine a baby coming with us on tour!" Hyunjin hyped up the situation even more.

"What if there twins?!" Seungmin claps his hands in excitement.

"or Quadtruplets?!" Han gasps.

"Those do run in my family," I.N says smirking.

Y/n couldnt help but smile at the fact that they where excited for this. It made her feel a little better now although she still wasn't sure about the whole situation.

"Plus, we're all financially stable to take care of one. I don't see why not," Han chimed in, nodding in agreement

"Okay, woah, woah, woah, guys. Let's slow down for a second and ask the person who's actually carrying the baby if they're okay with it," Chan said, raising his hands to calm the excitement.

Everyone's eyes landed on her, anticipation hanging thick in the air. Y/N took a deep breath, her heart racing. She really wasnt expecting this at all and although she felt like she wasnt ready, the way the boys looked at her with hope was the only answer she needed.

"Oh… I guess… let's have a baby? I just-what if I'm not ready for this? What if it changes everything?"

"Life is full of surprises," Chan said gently, kissing her forehead. "But we'll face whatever comes next together. You're strong, and we're all in this with you."

"I… I guess it's just a lot to take in," she admitted, wiping away a few more stray tears. "I wasn't expecting this."

"None of us were," Felix said, a small smile breaking through his breaking through his worry. "But we'll make it work. We're a family, right?"

"Right," Y/N replied, feeling a flicker of hope. "I just need some time to process it all.”

"Take all the time you need jagi," Hyunjin reassured her.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon! (Taglist open)

[raestromboli]

𝒢𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒮 𝒲𝐸 𝐵𝒪𝒯𝐻 𝒜𝐼𝒩’𝒯 𝒮𝐻𝐼𝒯!

ᡴꪫ 𓂃 chris finally commits to a relationship! he swears up and down that he’s happy . . . but his girlfriend isn’t the reason why.

cw. ┊ 18+, not proofread, cheater!chris x milf!reader, smut, established relationship but not between reader, cheating, vulgar language, pet name usage, age gap﹙chris is 21, reader is 29﹚, gfs name is eve, persuasion, mild manipulation, cunnilingus﹙he eats it from the back﹚, spanking, backshots, overstimulation, creampie, y’all almost get caught, mdni.

⌗ the age gap between chris and r is not gonna align w the gf bc i feel uncomfy writing chris any younger and i am NOT gonna write the reader as an old ass woman 🤍 hope y’all get it

chris doesn't even have a damn clue on why he’s currently standing in front of his girlfriend’s mom’s residence when he knows his girlfriend isn't even inside the house.

though, all he wants is to see is her mom . . . her fucking mom.

it's kind of ridiculous, he thinks, how he has a crush on his girl's mom and calls her a milf in his head. he feels sick and twisted for even thinking of those lewd and perverted thoughts, but it’s almost addictive. you’re addictive. he really doesn't want to admit it, but chris was obsessed with comparing his girlfriend to you.

your curves, your pretty tits, your waist, your oh so soft thighs, and your lips. oh fuck, your lips. all he could think is . . . why couldn't your daughter take those features?

knocking on the door twice, the door immediately swings open to be met with your doe eyes staring up at him, worry settling in on them, "oh, chris—what’re you doing here, sweetie?" you pout sympathetically, noticing how chris looked so disheveled; hair sticking up in awkward places and little beads of sweat forming on his upper lip, “are you looking for eve?”

chris decides to play innocent, nodding his head and pouting at you.

“‘m so sorry, honey. she just left.” your voice was so smooth and comforting. he could only imagine how you’d sound when you’re getting your back blown out by him.

he raised his brows, pink lips forming into an 'o' as an attempt to look oblivious, " o-oh, shit. my bad." he huffs out a nervous laugh, turning around to begin walking off.

"wait!" you suddenly yelled. if chris didn’t know any better, you might’ve sounded desperate.

he looked so flustered and parched, so the least you could do for the sweet boy was to nurse him back to hydration . . . right? when chris stopped in his tracks, you didn't get to see the wicked smirk on his face before he turned around, meeting your eye.

��yes, ma’am?”

you frowned, "please don’t go back out there. i know you walked over here, poor boy."

fuuuck, you’re so caring. it makes his dick hard.

you widen the front door and chris immediately gives in, grinning and thanking you while heading inside your home. he’s been in your house before, but something about being just the two of you, alone, made everything feel special. just thinking about it made him feel like a perv—he was getting off to it, though.

chris eyes you the whole time.

you make your way into the kitchen, leaning down as you open the fridge door and pull out a pitcher of lemonade. you’re completely oblivious about the two blue eyes that ogle at your tits, or your ass when you bend down. that just makes it funner for chris. you pour the liquid in a tall glass and slid it over to the boy who sat himself down on the kitchen island.

while doing so, you couldn’t help but wonder if he really all this way to your house.

“chris, did you really walk all the way over here? if you wanted to come over, you could’ve called me, sweetie. i would’ve drove you.” chris took a few seconds to answer, a little busy chugging down the refreshment. some of the liquid slipped past his lips and ran down his chin.

his adams apple bobbed as he finished the last of the lemonade, setting the glass down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "yeah, sorry. i will next time." chris giggles lowly, eyes boring its way into yours.

you smile at him when you both went quiet, “do you, uhm, want me to call eve and tell her you’re here?”

“nah, let it be a surprise.”

you teasingly coo at him, a coy grin playing at your lips when chris meekly shrugs, “she’s so lucky to have you, y’know.”

that makes him smirk, “yeah?”

“yeah.” it’s your turn to act shy, crossing your arms under your chest nervously. you spot chris’ eyes traveling down your chest, but you don’t say anything.

“soooo, you don’t have a man or somethin’ like that?”

“. . a man?”

he shrugs again, but with more confidence. a cocky smirk plays crooked on his lips while he continues, “like, someone you can depend on?”

“i guess not,” you huff out a laugh, “i’ve been too busy raising eve that i’ve never really thought about that.”

oh, but you have.

it’s so wrong, so disgusting and immature of you, but you think about it . . with chris . . . a lot. of course, you just wouldn’t admit it. you pushed those thoughts aside before you could get too carried away.

“damn,” he purses his lips, “you ever get lonely?”

you playfully furrow your brows at chris, “that seems a little inappropriate to ask that about your girlfriend’s mother.”

“is it?” he smirks while sliding his tongue over his bottom lip, “i just wanted to know a little more ‘bout you.”

you notice the atmosphere change in just a second. it makes you nervous.

“what do you wanna know?”

“i dunno . . .” chris then shrugs, maintaining eye contact with you as he walks past you. his hands paw at your waist to move you aside, purposely grinding his bulge against your ass. he hears you suck in a shaky, deep breath and a grin blooms across his face, “would you fuck a younger guy?” he turns the sink faucet on, so he’s unable to hear the shocked gasp that slips past your lips.

“chris! that’s h-highly inappropriate!” your head whips over to your left to stare at chris in bewilderment, eyes widened like saucers and lips parted.

you watch chris turn the faucet off, wiping his wet hands on his jean clad thighs before turning to face you, “sooo, no?”

“i-i can’t answer that—“

“why not?”

he can’t be serious.

you scoff at him, your eyes straining a bit as you try not to stare at the obvious bulge poking from chris’ jeans. he leaned against the sink counter with his arms crossed over each other, looking at you with his eyes darkened with lust.

“please don’t make me say it.” you can’t even muster yourself up to care as you beg chris. you’re just hoping all this was just one of those wet dreams you’ve been having of him lately.

chris knows you won’t say it, so he takes the cake for you, “what eve doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

you feel more lightheaded each step chris takes toward you, the potent smell of his cologne invading your senses. he’s even more prettier close up—your head’s so fuzzy, “i-i can’t do that to her, chris.” you whisper.

“no?” chris’ sympathetic pout seems purely fake when his hard stare on you intimidates you, “you sayin’ you don’t want me?”

“chris . . .” you whimper softly.

“c’mon, say it. you’ll be my good girl, won’t you?”

you can’t believe how a younger man like chris could have so much power over you. his suave voice immediately makes you fold, along with his piercing gaze that leaves you cowering.

two hands wrap around your waist to pin you against the counter, his bulge pressing against your bare thigh.

“i . . i want you.” you managed to spit it out with chris pushing his body impossibly closer to yours, his chest smushing against yours and his breath fanning over your face. he smiles at you, and it almost seems innocent before he leans in and locks his lips with yours.

it’s been so long since you’ve kissed someone, let alone been with a man this close to you. so you expect chris to pull away and sneer at your sloppy motions, but instead he sighs in almost relief against your lips.

chris’ kisses are messy and uncoordinated, but somehow in the best possible way. he sucks on your bottom lip, whining nasally while he lets you explore his mouth. your lips are coated in a glossy sheen with his saliva when he pulls away, panting and staring at you with low eyes—almost like he was high.

“. . . you’d let me fuck you? hm?” he mumbles as his head lowers down to hide himself in your neck, starting to attack the sensitive skin on your pulse point immediately. that action makes you keen and paw at his shoulder.

“uh huh, please.” you whine desperately, your hand rising up to fist chris’ soft hair as he grazes his teeth against the bruise that started glooming on your neck, soothing the sting with a kitty lick. you barely recognize yourself; you’ve become so needy for your daughter’s boyfriend that you can’t even think about any of the consequences. and in some way, it makes the whole situation just seem better.

you don’t know how you’ve landed in this position, nor how you’ve ended up in your bedroom; you, with your face smushed against your pillow and your ass up high, kisses being placed all over your thighs. it’s been ten minutes since chris has had you in this position, soaked panties pooling at your ankles while he teased you everywhere except where you needed him most.

“chris,” you whimpered, lifting your head up to glance over at him from your shoulder, “please.” you both know what you’re begging for, but chris wants to hear it.

he wrapped his hands around your waist to maneuver you closer to his face and spit directly onto your drooling cunt, smirking as you squeal, “what do you want, then? tell me and i’ll give it to ya’.”

it wasn’t a lie that chris brought out the slut in you.

“i want your mouth . . and your fingers.” you whined quietly, pouting while you wave your ass around when the throbbing in your clit started getting unbearable.

your brain cancels out whatever comes out of chris’ mouth next the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, he gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. it doesn’t take him long to succumb his need as he dives in, tongue lulling out to lick a thick stripe from your clit and to your hole. a groan emits from him as the taste of you spreads throughout his tastebuds. it’s like your pussy was a drug. he’s addicted to you from just one taste.

you could feel his stubble scratch along your thighs as he eats you out with vigor, his chin and the tip of his nose slick when he practically stuffs his face in between your thighs.

“oh m’god!” you squeal against your pillow as chris wraps his plush lips around your puffy nub, sucking on it like a pacifier and humming like you were the best meal he’s ever eaten.

chris finds it so amusing how you responded to his touches. whether it’d be him grazing his hand across yours, or he’d be tongue deep in your pretty pussy. you’re so sensitive and he knows you’re just seconds away from coming undone, but he’s just getting started.

he’s so messy and sloppy with your pussy; letting you coat his face in your essence and groaning lewdly while he shook his head side to side with his tongue flat against your clit. he also lets you shake your ass in his face to grind your weeping cunt the way you subconsciously liked.

“chrisss,” you whined, gasping, “‘m gonna cum.” but he’s already one step ahead, hands holding your thighs done and pulling away to spank your ass.

“nah, you’re gonna hold that shit. i’m not done with you.” and when you start huffing and whining, you get another spank, but on your pussy. a high pitched moan slips past your lips at the sting, cheeks heating up as you hear chris chuckle behind you.

when your daughter’s boyfriend puts his mouth back to work on your needy pussy, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you gasp. why was chris so good at eating you out?

the knot in your lower stomach already starts forming when his lips wrap around your nub once again, thighs shaking around chris’ head as your orgasm quickly approaches.

“oh!—i can’t hold it. i-i gotta cum.” you huff nasally. you wrap your arms around your pillow and hug it tightly against your body, the motions on chris’ tongue gradually getting more calculated. and when he doesn’t respond to you, you take it as a sign to let go.

chris let his tongue circle your clit at a relentless pace before then he felt it; he heard you. a cry of his name. you coated his tongue, muscles clutching as your ass practically shook against his face. you were shaking—your legs couldn't stop twitching. if it weren't for his firm grip on your thighs, you wouldn't have been able to withstand so much.

with a final lick to your sensible core, he drew out a whimper from you. you had to reach out and push his head away when you started getting overstimulated.

it’s been so long since you had a proper orgasm, and you could barely take it. you’re whining under your breath as you try to come up from your high, face shoved into the pillow to avoid chris seeing you so slutted out.

a large hand comes up to cup your butt, squeezing the fat in his palm before letting go to give you a slap. he bites away a smirk when you gasp and look over your shoulder with a glare.

“think i’ll be able to fuck you better than men your age?” you know chris was challenging you, but frustration had been bubbling up inside you ever since his nonstop teasing.

you sneak a small smile at him, “maybe? i’m not sure.” and when you hear the shuffle of his zipper and his belt unbuckling, you couldn’t be too sure that you’d grow to be right.

“yeah, we’ll fuckin’ see ‘bout that.” he mumbles, scoffing out a small laugh as he strokes his leaky cock and huffing under his breath. chris uses his free hand to cup your waist when he thrusts forward to come in contact with your puffy cunt, his pink mushroom tip moving in languid motions over your sore nub. your brows pinch together at the feeling of his heavy dick being hugged in between your folds, so lost in the euphoria that you fail to hear your phone ringing until chris leans away to grab your phone.

“wha—“

a wicked smile forms on his face as he taps you on your shoulder, bringing the screen splayed out as your daughter’s name up to your face. when you lock your eyes with it, you gasp and hurriedly place your palms flat against the bed, shooting up and attempting to grab your phone from chris before he pulled it back from you.

“don’t answer it!” but it’s too late.

“hello? mom?”

your eyes widen as chris snickers quietly behind you.

“o-oh,” you clear your throat, fighting a small moan that dared to slip out when he starts to create soft, chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly backed your hips up against him, but you knew if you did, you wouldn’t be able to stop, “hi—hi honey.”

“umm,” eve stutters out a laugh, “are you okay?”

your words get caught in your throat when chris reaches down to fist his dick and tap his leaking tip against your drooling pussy, squeezing your eyes shut as you pray that the wet pat pat pat didn’t pick up on the other line.

“‘course i am . . . w-why wouldn’t i be?”

“okayyyy, if you say so,” she snickers once again, “but could you facetime me? i want to show you this top i’d think you lik—“

“no!” and when there’s a long pause, you continue hurriedly, “sorry, baby. i just mean . . i can’t right now.”

“uhh, okay. i’ll just buy it for you some other time.”

“yeah. thanks, honey. i’ll s-see you later, ‘kay?” you tuck your lip between your teeth as chris uses his dick to play with your needy pussy.

“. . . sure? bye m—“

chris ends the call for you, throwing your phone somewhere across your room with a cocky smile.

he chortles, “jesus, you’re bad at lying. just tell your daughter you’re ‘bout to get fucked by her boyfriend.”

you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow, “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”

“maybe.”

your eyes rolled—yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane. perhaps he was. who would even seduce their girlfriend’s mother anyway . . . ?

to be frank, you couldn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.

you would find yourself with your ass perked up high in the air, arms folded over each other as chris mercilessly pounds into your sweet pussy, relishing in how you squealed and whined at the pure stretch and length of his cock. you’ve always known he’d be big; those grey sweatpants gave him no mercy on him, but to have him deep inside you, he felt so much more bigger.

“look at you, takin’ my cock like a big girl.” it’s ironic, considering how he’s almost a decade younger than you, but chris really was proud of you. the minute he started sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance, you were immediately running away and gasping that he wouldn’t fit. but with a little work, he’s got you moaning and all fucked out for him.

chris playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy, his fingers plucking the fabric of your tanktop and sliding it further, further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples. of course you just happened to not have a bra on.

“c-chris,” you moaned, body shaking and bouncing with every hard thrust your daughter’s boyfriend gave you. it’s so sudden—in just seconds, he’s had you with your back flush to his bare chest, his hand around your throat and your palms flat on your bed to fuck you impossibly deeper. you felt your back arch off his back and it didn’t take long for him to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper.

“feel good, honey?” chris mocks lowly against your ear, using a hand to cup your bouncing tit and lightly pinch your nipple. he wraps that arm around your torso to keep you steady before his free hand slithers down in between your thighs to catch your clit in his fingers. he rubs soft motion on your sensitive nub and immensely watches your face contort into something pretty and fucked out, “take this dick like a good girl, baby. c’mon, i know you can.” he groans against your ear.

he keeps fucking you like that until your arms give out and you can’t hold yourself up anymore, letting you hide your arms under the pillow and lay your chest flat against the bed. chris leans down to watch your sweet cunt swallow up his cock each time he pulls away, a creamy white ring forming on the thick base. he grabs onto the fat of your ass and smiles in awe as he gawks at the way you fuck yourself back onto him eagerly, your ass clapping against his pelvis noisily.

eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch—it was so erotic, the build up of your incoming release yet again.

it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for chris; the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.

you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again. to chris, though, it was purely music to his ears.

“chris—chris!” you cried out with a squeal, practically a warning before you tense up, hips rapidly twitching as you cum around chris’ dick. white floods your vision when he fucks himself into slower and deeper, letting you ride out your orgasm until you calm down and grow lax against his hold.

god, this was so wrong.

“fuuuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” chris groans as his eyes roll to the back of his head when your hole tightens around his cock. his release vastly approaches and just within seconds, you’re getting filled up to the hilt. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. he shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you slowly whined your hips to milk him for what he’s worth.

“atta girl.” chris purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he leans down to kiss you from over your shoulder. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of blue that looked like it had a story to tell . . .

maybe that story is ready for another day though.

thankfully you didn’t get caught.

or did you—you both left your bedroom, you limping down the stairs with chris’ help. but what you don’t realize is how your daughter is already home, sitting down on the couch and busying herself with a movie.

eve spots you both with a smile, you and chris both scrambling apart with bewilderment sketched across your faces. she snickers at you.

“why were you guys upstairs?”

you glance at chris, who somehow had a solemn look on his face, and back at your daughter, “i, uh . . . i was showing him the bathroom.”

“oh . . okay. wellll, i bought you some clothes, i’ll go put them up in your room!” and then she’s getting off the couch, walking up to chris to cup his cheek and place a kiss on his lips. it momentarily brings disgust to you, but you swallow it down when he glances at you.

“you good?” chris chuckles under his breath.

you smile back at him, “. . yeah.”

you don’t know if you’re starting to regret it, or if you want more, but you don’t get more time to think it through when your daughter calls your name from upstairs.

“erm. mom? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff on your bed? doesn’t look like shampoo.”

the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before chris nudges you to speak after long seconds passes.

“huh? oh, that’s, uh, mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”

eve giggles, “aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”

you mentally facepalm, feeling yourself break into a sheepish sweat before you let out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”

“right. riiiight,” your daughter mutters, hearing her footsteps across the floor. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall—adding a followup of her yelling out her boyfriend’s name, “wait a minute . . .” and she glances down near the floor. “aren’t these your boxers, chris?”

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Their reaction to tears (Stan & Ford)

Stan

Perhaps from the outside it seems that Stan is not a very sentimental guy. It’s wrong. Yeah, hugs make him feel nervous if they go on too long, and feelings? He’s spent most of his life avoiding those altogether. So when Stan sees you crying, his first reaction is to freeze. He’s really lost. And it’s you, so he can’t just brush it off or pretend it’ll go away. Not when you’re standing there, your shoulders shaking like that.

“Aw, kid. . .” he finally steps closer, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly feeling out of place. His eyes flicker over you, taking in your trembling hands, the hiccuping breaths.

He doesn't ask you for an explanation, he doesn't force you to pour out your soul. He knows that sometimes silence is better than any conversation, but the way he rubs slow circles into your back, the way his chin rests atop your head, you know he’s there. It's not very graceful embrace. It’s more like you’re getting wrapped up in a bear hug that’s meant to keep the rest of the world out. He squeezes you tight, maybe a little too tight, because that’s all he knows how to do. Hold on and hope it helps.

“Shh, it’s alright. I gotcha,” he mutters into your hair, though he sure as hell doesn’t know how to handle your tears, but he’s trying. “Whoever made you feel like this? I’ll knock ‘em into next Tuesday, swear to god.”

You let out a half-laugh, half-sob at that, and he pulls back just enough to glance down at you, raising an eyebrow like he’s confused by the sound. “What? You think I’m joking? I’ll even wear brass knuckles for the occasion.” his thumb brushes away a stray tear. He frowns, like maybe he’s mad at himself for not fixing it faster, for not knowing what to say to make it all go away. “C’mon, sweetie,” now his voice a little softer, “You’re tougher than this. You’ve got me. Ain’t nobody messes with you when I’m around, okay?”

“It’s. . . It’s so stupid, Stan, i don’t even know-“ you try to explain, sobbing and bursting into tears.

“Tell me, who do I gotta rough up for this? ’Cause I can call in some favors. I know a guy who knows a guy.”

You sniffle, laugh breaking through and he grins at that, just a little. He hates seeing you cry, but getting you to smile, even if it’s weak, that’s the goal.

“There we go,” he says, all smug and proud. “See? That’s better. You keep cryin’ like that and I’m gonna have to start cryin’, and trust me, you don’t wanna see that. I’m an ugly crier.”

Stan stares at you a bit longer than usual before continuing. “You know, tears aren’t your best look,” he says after a moment, his thumb brushes your cheek, wiping your tears in a way that’s more careful, gentle, than you’d expect. “You’ve got a real pretty face, baby, but it’s kinda hard to see it through all this mess.”

You laugh, even if just a little, because that’s. . . That’s just Stan. He’ll drag you out of your darkest moments, even if he has to fight the whole damn world to do it.

Ford

Ford is a man of deep thought, logic and intellect. But when he sees you break down in front of him, crying softly, trembling and sobbing, it shakes something in him that’s far beyond logic. His heart stumbles. The man who’s faced interdimensional monsters, who’s braved the edges of space and time, suddenly feels lost when he sees you like this.

At first, he doesn’t move. He’s watching you, brow furrowed, processing. Ford wants to understand, to fix, but emotions aren’t equations and you are something far more complex than anything described in his journals.

“Hey. . . hey,” he whispers, finally reaching out, his voice soft, calm, quiet. He’s cautious, careful, like he’s afraid of overwhelming you. His hand hovers for a moment before settling lightly on your arm. “What’s wrong? what happened?” Ford asks because he needs to know. He needs to dissect the situation, to piece together what’s hurting you so he can find a solution. But there’s more to it than just answers for him.

When you can’t quite form words, when your tears keep spilling, he gently pulls you closer, his hand resting on your back as he guides you to sit with him. His touch is gentle as he slowly, soothingly runs his thumb over your shoulder.

“You don’t have to talk yet,” he speaks, his breath brushing against your temple. “I’m here.” and those words, so simple, carry so much weight coming from him. Because Ford isn’t a man who offers empty promises. If he says he’s here, he means it in every sense.

And then, because Ford can’t help the way his mind works, he begins talking in that soothing voice of his. “You know,” he starts in a thoughtful tone. “tears are a natural response to emotional stress. It’s. . . it’s a sign of strength, not weakness. Your body is releasing what it can’t hold anymore.”

Ford is not trying to seem all smart and logical, it’s just how he comforts, by giving you the understanding you deserve, by showing you that it’s okay to feel everything you’re feeling, by explaining you. And when you hear him, his hand moves to gently wipe away your tears with the pad of his thumb, so careful, like he’s touching something sacred.

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together,” Ford promises you. “You’re not alone in this.” he kisses your forehead, slowly, letting you feel his presence. And when you’re breathing just a little steadier, Ford tilts your chin up, his eyes searching yours, and there’s nothing but warmth in his gaze. “You’re going to be alright.” he says, and somehow, you know he means it.

[joelsrose]

Crybaby

fluff drabble 🥺

It had been months of you going back and forth about getting bangs. Nothing too dramatic—just soft, wispy ones to frame your face. Joel, ever supportive, would pull you into his chest and brush your hair back, smiling. "I'd love you with no hair, baby," he’d say, his voice low and warm as you lay together in bed. The way he said it always made you feel like the most beautiful person in the world.

But today was the day. You were finally sitting in the hairdresser’s chair, heart pounding as the scissors snipped away. The first strands fell, and your stomach flipped. By the end, as you stared at your reflection, you couldn’t hide the rising panic. Shit. Shit. Shit. The bangs didn’t look anything like what you imagined. The hairdresser beamed, waiting for your approval, and you forced a smile so tight your cheeks hurt. "I love it," you lied, because what else could you do? Wish your hair back into place?

Walking home, your sniffles turned into full-blown hiccups as you fought back tears. Why did I do this? By the time you reached the front door, your head was spinning. You shoved it open, dropping your keys on the table without bothering to call out.

"Hey, baby," Joel’s voice rumbled from somewhere—maybe the living room or the kitchen. You didn’t stop to see. Instead, you bolted upstairs, your steps heavy on the wooden stairs.

Joel frowned, setting down whatever he was holding. "The hell?" he muttered under his breath, his brows knitting together. You never came home without greeting him.

With a groan, he pushed himself up, his boots clunking against the floor as he followed. "Baby?" he called out, his voice softening. He checked the bedroom, but it was empty. His eyes flicked to the slightly ajar bathroom door, and he knocked lightly. "You in here?"

"No," you replied, your voice muffled and miserable.

He chuckled, the sound warm and teasing, like he already knew you were being dramatic but didn’t mind one bit. “What’re you doin’, silly girl? Tryin’ to hide from me?”

"Joel, go away," you called back, your voice shaky with unshed tears.

Joel stayed right where he was, leaning against the doorframe, the wood creaking under his weight. "Not comin’ in, don’t worry. Just wanna talk to my girl." His voice softened, rich with concern. "What’s wrong, angel? C’mon, you know you can talk to me."

"I look ugly," you sniffled, voice small and wavering.

A pause. Then, firm and sure, "Not possible." He exhaled like he couldn’t believe you’d even think that. "C’mon, baby, what happened?"

You swallowed hard, your throat tight. "I got my haircut," you finally admitted, the words tumbling out with a shaky sob. "She—she fucked up my bangs."

Joel’s breath hitched, and you could almost hear the frown tugging at his lips. "Oh, sweetheart," he cooed, his voice dripping with tenderness. "Can I see? Please?"

"You won’t like it," you whimpered.

"Darlin’," he said, his tone low and soft, "there’s not a damn thing on this earth that could make me not like lookin’ at you. Open the door for me, baby."

"You have to promise not to laugh," you said, your voice wavering behind the closed bathroom door.

Joel’s voice was steady, warm, and laced with sincerity. "Cross my heart, darlin'. Not a single laugh, I swear."

There was a pause, and then, with a huff, you muttered, "Fine."

The door creaked open, and Joel stepped inside slowly, his movements careful and deliberate, like coaxing a scared puppy. His boots clicked softly against the tiles, and his heart twisted when he saw you—facing away, your hands buried in your face, shoulders trembling just a little.

Joel sat on the edge of the bathtub, his knees brushing against yours. "You gonna face me, pretty girl?" he asked softly, his tone coaxing, like he was talking to something fragile.

You shook your head, your messy hair swaying as you kept your face hidden. "Making this real hard for me," he chuckled, the sound soft, reassuring.

"Joel," you groaned, dragging out his name like a warning, but there was no bite in it, just pure frustration with yourself.

"C’mon, baby," he murmured, his hands reaching for you, warm and steady as they wrapped gently around your forearm. Slowly, he guided you to stand between his legs, "Let me see that pretty face, hmm?"

You hesitated, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His hands, rough and familiar, slid down to rest on your hips, grounding you. His thumbs rubbed soft circles into your sides, and you couldn’t help but relax, even just a little.

"Slowly now," he whispered, his voice low and sweet, the kind of tone that made your heart flutter no matter how upset you were.

With a shaky exhale, you let your arms drop to your sides, revealing your tear-streaked face and the bangs you’d already convinced yourself were a disaster. Your eyes stayed glued to the floor, bracing for Joel’s reaction, your heart pounding so hard it echoed in your ears.

"Holy shit, honey," Joel drawled, his voice low and soft, but there was something in his tone that made you glance up, even through your nerves.

Your brows furrowed. "What?" you whispered, half-expecting him to laugh.

Joel leaned back slightly, his eyes warm and full of something you couldn’t quite place. He let out a slow whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Didn’t know it was possible for my girl to get even prettier."

Your lip quivered as you tried to hold back another wave of tears. "You’re lying," you said weakly, your arms crossing defensively over your chest. "I look ridiculous."

Joel tsked, already reaching for you. His hands found your waist, strong and steady, and before you could protest, he was pulling you into his lap. His broad hands spanned your back, pressing you close as if he could hold your insecurities at bay just by touching you.

"Ridiculously cute," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple. His hand came up to gently tuck your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering as they traced along the curve of your cheek. "You look like a damn fairy, baby. All delicate and perfect."

You buried your face in his chest, shaking your head as your cheeks flushed. "I don’t," you mumbled, your voice muffled by the soft fabric of his shirt.

Joel’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb stroking small, soothing circles against your scalp. "You do," he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You’re sittin’ here in my lap, all pretty and pouty, and I don’t think I’ve ever been more in love with you than I am right now."

"Stop," you huffed, your voice half a laugh, half a groan, but Joel just grinned.

"Not a chance," he said, tipping your chin up so he could see your face. His eyes softened as they traced over your features, lingering on your bangs. "These little things?" he teased gently, brushing them aside. "I love ‘em. Make you look sweet. Like you walked straight outta one of those fairytale books Ellie’s always talkin’ about."

You sniffled, the corners of your lips twitching as you fought the urge to smile. "You’re just saying that."

Joel’s brows lifted, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Baby," he said, his voice dropping to a soft rumble, "when have you ever known me to just say somethin’ I didn’t mean? You’re my girl. My beautiful, stubborn, perfect girl. And I’ll keep tellin’ you until you believe me."

Butterflies erupted in your chest, fluttering so wildly you thought you might float away. Joel didn’t stop there, though. He pulled you even closer, his nose brushing against yours as he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, one that left no room for doubt about just how much he adored you.

When he pulled back, his grin was softer now, but no less sure. "Now, how about we grab some dinner, and you let me keep braggin’ about how lucky I am to have you?" His fingers slid up to play with the ends of your bangs, his smirk returning. "Gonna have a real hard time keepin’ my hands off you, though. Fair warning."

You laughed, finally letting yourself melt into him, the last of your doubts fading under the weight of his love. "You’re obsessed with me," you teased, though your voice was soft and warm.

Joel chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Damn right, I am. Always will be."

[bellaxgiornata]

How Much Did You Miss Me?

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 3k [Jax Fic Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; smut, f!masturbation, cocky Jax and his filthy mouth, somewhat rough sex (kinda, not really), porn with minimal plot, unprotected sex

Summary: While Jax is on a protection run, you're desperate to ease some tension so you can fall asleep. But when he unexpectedly returns early, he's determined to prove he's better than your toy.

a/n: This is pure filth. All of it. I was writing some soft!Jax smut and was struck with the need for something with a cocky Jax, so this interrupted that and fell out of me really quick. Newer to this fandom, but if you'd like me to tag something not listed above, let me know. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

You hated nights like tonight. Nights when Jax was out late doing a protection run with the club and you were left alone in your apartment.

You especially hated nights like tonight when you couldn't seem to ignore that damn incessant ache between your thighs no matter how hard you tried. You knew you’d never get to sleep tonight if you didn’t get rid of it, but all you wanted was Jax–his mouth, his fingers, his cock. Right now you craved any part of him, but he was probably hours away on his bike and you were here with nothing but your damn vibrator.

Head nestled amidst the pillows of your bed, your eyes squeezed tightly shut as the repetitive buzzing noise drowned out the sound of anything else in your apartment. You were focused on the pleasure steadily building in your body as your mind desperately tried to conjure up images from the last time you'd been with Jax two mornings ago. Holding tight to the memory of him lazily fucking into you while half awake from that other morning, you desperately attempted to chase your release just so that you could relax enough to finally go to sleep tonight.

Teeth biting down on your lip, you could feel that intoxicating sensation gradually growing stronger within you. You were getting closer, inching nearer and nearer as that wave of pleasure crept its way up your spine. Keeping your focus on the memory of Jax with your legs tossed over his shoulders, his large hands holding your ankles firmly in place as he slowly rolled his hips into you, your back arched along the bed as the pleasure continued to build. You were so damn close now.

But the sound of a familiar deep, rumbling chuckle broke through the moment. 

Just as you'd startled and opened your eyes, Jax was reaching down and pulling the toy out of your hand without the slightest hesitation. With a smug smirk on his lips, he easily turned the vibrator off without even glancing away from where you were sprawled naked on the bed before him.

“Really, baby?” he asked, his tone a mixture of amused and annoyed as he gestured his head at the vibrator in his hand. “This what you do when I'm gone?”

Lips parting in surprise for the briefest moment, you gaped at his audacity. Seconds later you recovered, shooting him a pointed look that only had his smirk growing a little more.

“What the hell, Jax?” you shot back in frustration. 

He held the toy up higher in his hand, his brows raising back at you. “You think I'm gonna let my girl use this fucking thing when I've got something much better?”

If it wasn't for the fact that you were feeling sufficiently sexually frustrated at the moment, you'd have found the sight of him holding your purple vibrator up with that look on his face somewhat funny. But right now you didn't feel anything close to entertained.

“You were supposed to be out, Jax,” you reminded him. “What the hell else am I supposed to do when you're gone? Suffer?”

“Now there's a thought,” he mused.

With an annoyed huff, you watched as he turned around to set the vibrator on your dresser. Pushing yourself upright on the bed, you frowned at him when he turned back to face you.

“Come on now, darlin’,” he drawled, a glint in his eyes as they roamed over the way you sat naked on the bed. “Don't give me that look. I'm not going to leave you so...tense.” 

Your eyes narrowed at the way he was still grinning at you. Unaffected by your look, his hands reached up and slowly slipped the leather kutte off of his shoulders, letting it drop to your bedroom floor with a soft thump.

“What's the catch, Jax?” you asked him, cutting straight to the point.

He chuckled at your question, his hands casually undoing the buttons of his flannel one at a time next. “No catch, baby. I wouldn't do that to you. Not when it seems like I interrupted you before your satisfying conclusion.”

You shook your head immediately, not entirely believing what he was telling you–not with that look on his face. Thighs pressing together as you watched him undress, your body was craving release at this point. It didn't help that Jax had caught the subtle squirming and shifting of your hips, his eyes dropping down towards your legs. His tongue darted out, running slowly along his bottom lip as he slid the flannel down his arms and to the floor. Your eyes immediately drank in the sight of his bare chest, raking over every toned muscle, little scar, and tattoo now made visible.

“Okay, maybe one little catch,” he amended.

Gritting your teeth together, you watched as his hands lowered, beginning to slowly undo the button and the zipper of his jeans. He was going so slow on purpose just to tease you.

“What?” you grudgingly asked.

“I want to hear you,” he continued, pushing his jeans and black boxer briefs down his thighs in one fluid movement that had you almost salivating at the sight of him finally bare. “No keeping quiet tonight. I don't give a shit if we piss off your neighbors again.” He kicked out of his clothes, taking two steps before he was right at the foot of the bed. “I want to know how much more you enjoy my cock. I want to hear it. You got that?” 

His eyes held yours as he leaned forward and planted both hands on the edge of the bed. There was a challenge in his expression, daring you to tell him no. But you knew better than to do that because then he probably really would leave you frustrated and unsatisfied tonight. And honestly, you had a feeling you'd be so sensitive at this point that you wouldn't be keeping very quiet.

“It's not like I wanted that thing over you in the first place, Jax,” you answered flatly. 

Clearly your response had been one he wanted to hear because Jax climbed up onto your bed the second you'd finished speaking. He jutted his chin out at you before he spoke again, that smug smirk he often wore returning.

“Roll over, baby. On your stomach,” he ordered.

You hesitated for only a moment, just long enough to take in the sight of him naked on his knees on your bed, one hand stroking his hardening length. He looked so good that you just couldn’t help yourself, but the moment one of his brows arched at you, you shifted and turned, laying down on your stomach.

“There you go, baby,” he praised in a deep rumble.

His voice went straight to your cunt, a surge of pleasure running through you. His rough hands grabbed onto your hips, shifting them a little higher up off the bed before one of them slid over to grab a firm handful of your ass. A quiet, soft little noise slipped out of you in response, the anticipation of what was coming causing your cunt to pathetically clench around nothing. 

As Jax pushed your legs apart wider with his knees, making room for himself between them, a pleased, throaty noise vibrated in his chest. The sound alone had your hands fisting the bed sheets before you glanced over your shoulder at him behind you.

“Already impatient, darlin’?” Jax teased.

“Of course I'm impatient, you interrupted what I was–”

Your words were cut off the second he ran the tip of himself through your damp folds, a gasp falling out of you instead. You were so damn sensitive already from what you'd just been doing that you didn't think you’d be lasting much longer. Especially when another throaty, satisfied noise left Jax behind you.

“What was that, baby?” he asked, amused. “Would you have preferred the toy instead?”

He teased the tip of himself against your entrance, barely pressing himself against you. Your eyelids immediately fluttered, your breath hitching. You just wanted to feel him already.

“No, Jax,” you nearly whined in response.

Trying to compose yourself as you watched him once more over your shoulder, you saw the slow, satisfied grin spread over his lips. A second later you were rewarded with the feel of him partially sinking into you, the sensation causing your mouth to fall open and a soft groan to slip out.

“That fucking toy get you this goddamn wet?” he growled, a hint of irritation in his tone. “That why you feel so goddamn good already?”

Jax moved behind you, leaning forward on the bed until his body was flush over the back of yours, resting his forearms along the mattress on either side of your hands to withhold some of his weight from off of you. His hips pushed himself further inside of you a little more roughly than usual as if to emphasize his displeasure at your use of the vibrator. The gesture met with a sharper gasp from you this time.

“Was–was thinking about you,” you managed to breathe out.

His face hovered just over your shoulder now, his mouth beside your ear when another pleased rumble sounded in his throat. He pulled his hips slowly backwards, his cock nearly slipping out of you before he roughly buried himself fully back into you in one quick movement. A high-pitched curse flew out of your mouth, your eyes snapping shut.

“So you were thinking about me?” he murmured, his tone far softer than the current thrust of his hips against you. His head shifted, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. “You miss me that much when I'm out with the club, baby?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed out, the noise sounding more like a needy whine.

Jax’s pace increased at your response, his cock repeatedly burying itself so deep inside of you that he kept hitting the spot that made the edges of your vision nearly burn white. You were so damn close again already, each of his panting breaths and rough grunts in your ear drawing you right back to the moment he had interrupted a little bit ago.

You loved this position and Jax knew it. The angle he could thrust into you was always perfect, allowing him to fill you completely with every sharp snap of his hips. And you loved the feel of his solid, warm body pressed flush over the entirety of you, his weight pressing you deep into the mattress as he practically overwhelmed all of your senses. You could feel the pull of his muscles against your back, hear the grunts and heavy breaths slipping out of his mouth beside your ear, feel his hot breath along your neck, smell the familiar scent of cigarettes and leather.

Your cunt was tightening around him already at the influx of stimulation, squeezing him as you kept drawing closer to the release you craved. A flurry of soft moans had been increasingly tumbling out of your mouth as he continued to roughly fuck into you, his hips repeatedly ramming into your ass over and over. But you could tell he wanted more when the hand beside yours moved, sliding its way along the bed before moving between your body and the mattress, brushing down past your breasts and your stomach. His hand continued its descent further until it stopped between your thighs, his fingertips landing right on your already sensitive clit. A hiss of pleasure came from between your teeth and Jax huffed in amusement beside your ear.

“Baby, I know you can be louder,” he panted out. “I told you I wanna hear you.”

His fingers began rubbing circles against that sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes nearly rolled back into your head. You felt like you were drowning in bliss now as his hips continued rolling roughly into you, the sound of skin on skin obscenely mixing with Jax’s grunts and your growing moans.

“Louder,” he ordered, continuing to speak into your ear between gritted teeth and forceful thrusts. “Let me–hear you. Wanna know–how much–you missed me.”

“Fuck–Jax–”

With an animalistic grunt, his teeth latched onto your earlobe, giving a couple of sharp tugs against the delicate skin as his fingers continued rubbing against you. Your cunt fluttered around him, gripping him like a vice. He groaned in response, releasing your earlobe before his forehead dropped onto your shoulder as his hips began to stutter, slowly losing their rhythm as he neared his own release. That had your own hips beginning to push back against him, desperately trying to match his pace and take him somehow deeper.

“That’s it baby,” he whispered into your skin. His body pressed more of its weight on top of you as he kept ramming his hips into yours, chasing his own release. “That’s my girl.”

“Jax–I’m–”

You couldn’t get the words out, you were already teetering on the edge of an orgasm, one that felt far stronger than normal because of its delay. At the feel of Jax pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder, your eyes snapped tightly shut.

“I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained. “Let go for me. Need you to–” he paused, breaking off on a groan that had your toes curling along the sheets as he hit you with a particularly deep thrust. “Need you to–cum for me.”

When the pads of his fingers added just a bit more pressure to your clit, you finally lost it underneath him. A moan tore its way up through you, ringing out through your bedroom as your fingers fisted the bed sheets even tighter. Jax continued to thrust into you, though the movements had grown sloppy as his breaths grew ragged and loud beside your ear. He was grunting and groaning as your body trembled its way through your orgasm until he gave another particularly deep, sharp thrust that had you crying his name.

That’s when Jax finally lost it. A resonant, beautiful moan tumbled out from between his lips as his hand finally left its place between your thighs to grip the pillow beside your head. He gave a few more rough pumps into you before you felt the warmth of his release fill you. You hummed softly, your cunt continuing to twitch around him.

Jax expelled a deep breath before he practically collapsed half on top of you, the weight of him only causing your already blissfully boneless body to relax further into the bed. As you both sat there panting, your loud breaths filling the room as your sweat-dampened bodies remained tangled together, you could feel his cock gradually beginning to soften inside of you. 

“So that–that’s what you get up to when I’m out, huh?” Jax finally asked, still sounding out of breath. “You and that goddamn vibrator get nice and close when I’m busy?”

Turning your head along the pillow, your eyes met Jax’s as his head rested on the pillow beside yours. There was a lazy half-smile on his lips as he gazed back at you, but there was something soft and tender shining in his eyes as he watched you in return. He looked so damn good all flushed and satisfied that you were half tempted to rile him up for another round once you recovered.

“Not every time,” you answered, a small smile slipping onto your lips as your breath came in heavy. “Just…some nights. When I’m missing you.”

A soft, amused breath left him as his hand reached up, lightly brushing aside a strand of hair that had stuck to the perspiration along your forehead with his fingertips. “Yeah?” he murmured, his hand coming to gently stroke your cheek. “Miss me that much tonight, did you?”

You hummed an affirmative response, your small smile growing. “Yeah. Wasn’t expecting you to come over tonight,” you told him, your heart still pounding heavily in your chest. “You made it sound like you’d be gone all night.”

“I was supposed to be,” he replied. “Had that protection run. Wasn’t gonna be back until four in the morning. But then some bullshit was going down at the clubhouse so Clay sent Opie and I back. Think he meant it like a punishment or somethin’.”

Jax laughed softly, shifting on the bed to ease some of his weight off of you. The movement had you once more growing aware of the fact that he was still inside of you. 

“Jokes on him,” he continued, that usual cocky smirk slipping onto his face. “Wasn’t that big of a problem to handle. And right now, this don’t feel remotely like a punishment.”

Quirking a brow back at him, a small grin tugged at your lips. “You want me to make it feel like one?” you teased.

Jax’s hand reached down, lightly swatting your ass as he grinned deviously at you. The gesture had you laughing, the sound causing the corners of his eyes to crease.

“Baby, this is your punishment for using that goddamn toy,” he reminded you. 

“Not feeling very much like a punishment for me, either,” you joked back.

That devious expression on his face only grew, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes suddenly. He leaned forward off the pillow, his teeth lightly mouthing at your bare shoulder as his eyes continued to hold your gaze.

“You want me to make it feel like one?” he asked, throwing your words back at you.

A shudder ran up your spine at the sultry tone of his voice before a sinful smirk pulled the corners of his lips upwards. You were definitely in for it tonight.

[winterrrnight]

unravel

PAIRING: frat!soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: rafe has had his eyes set on the girl who isn't falling for his charms the way every girl seems to do.

WARNINGS: college!au; reader is hard to get, an ambivert, reserved; rafe is just frat!rafe in the start but slowly develops into extremely soft!rafe; a lot of comfort; rafe calls reader princess; intentional lower case

EDITH SPEAKS: this was initially just a little concept on rafe pining for a hard to get reader, but it got longer than the usual word count of my concepts so it's now a little fic! i hope this is extremely comforting cause I swear we all need this 💞🥹 just wanna say I'm here for every single one of you 💗💗

please reblog if you liked reading this! feedback is always highly appreciated 🌻

navigation || join my taglist || requests

rafe’s heard it all; hot, sexy, handsome, charming, and boy, does he eat it up each time. he knows he is a 10 out of 10, and when each girl in college is always on her knees for him, it doesn’t help but only boosts his ego.

but when you come around, it is all so different.

you don’t give into his charms the way everyone else seems to give. you aren’t running after him like a lost puppy, you aren’t pining for him, and that sets rafe off.

and that’s exactly why he needs you.

he catches you any moment he can; before class, after class, in the cafeteria, in the huge lawn, outside your dorms; any moment he sees you, he’s coming over to you, and never being able to keep his mouth shut.

“so princess…”

“shut up.”

that’s basically how all your conversations go. you roll your eyes at him each time and just walk away, but he has a smirk pulling on his lips all the damn time, always walking right next to you.

it’s like he’s forgotten about all the other girls in college. the ones who are willingly ready to take him, to give him attention every second of every day; but here he wants you, who doesn’t even make eye contact with him for more than two seconds without you rolling your eyes at him.

he always looks at you as the reserved kind of person. you aren’t seen around with a big group of friends, but just two or three close ones. you aren’t always talking, but you are quite open with your close friends. it’s hard to gather much information about you from around, and he believes that if it was the other way round, information about him would be so easily accessible. oh, and it does not help that your instagram is private and you still haven’t accepted his request.

if anything, that intrigues him even more. he wants to get close to you, to find out more about you, to unravel every thread of your existence till he knows you better than you know yourself.

it’s a nice spring afternoon, and rafe had quite few classes as compared to usual. he decides to head to the library – a place whose exact location he didn’t even know until 5 months into college – to finish this goddamned essay that’s been hanging on his head for the past week now.

as he walks inside, the vexed look on his face is instantly replaced by a quite simpered one when he spots you. he’s already making his way to you, around 20 different one liners in his head he can kick start the conversation with to see that irritated look on your face which he adores with his whole heart. but the coy smile leaves just the next second when he gets a clear look at you.

you’re crying.

your head hangs low as you’re quietly sobbing so absolutely no one else can hear you; but then the library is quite empty. your eyes are shut tight as tears roll down your hot cheeks, and rafe feels his heart physically break.

break in such a way that if you hear carefully, you can hear it shattering.

a frown etches his lips and a deep furrow forms in his brows as he slowly makes his way to you.

“princess…” he mutters softly, keeping a gentle hand on your shoulder. you’re startled at the sudden touch which causes you to gasp and makes you look up, your blurry eyes coming in contact with his warm, blue ones.

“not now rafe…” you whisper, shifting your shoulder which causes rafe’s hand to drop. you move a hand to your face to wipe off your tears, sniffling silently.

“hey talk to me…” he whispers softly, sitting down in the empty chair next to you. he doesn’t touch you in any way, just keeps a soft gaze at you and notices how you still keep your head down, trying your best to not sob as much as you were earlier. he makes a quick note of how your fingers are pulling onto each other, pinching and squeezing the flesh of them.

rafe knows for sure he’s never experienced anything sadder than watching tears roll down your pretty face. he knows it’s the last thing he wants to see. and he knows he wants to be the one who makes sure a tear never falls down your face ever again.

“listen princess…” he whispers, leaning just a bit closer to you, “you can trust me okay? you really can,” he gently places a hand over your snaked fingers, causing you to stop your fidgeting. his hand is warm, and as he gently caresses the back of your hand with his thumb, you can slowly feel your tears dying down.

rafe gently holds one of your hand and brings it up to his chest, placing it right above his heart. you look up to him, your glassy eyes slightly widened at his action. “just feel it okay?” he whispers. “try to match your breathing with it.” you feel the rhythmic thumping of his heart under your palm, and your expression softens as your eyes flutter shut, your breathing starting to match with his.

“good… good…” he whispers gently, moving his other hand to gently wipe your cheeks. his breath gets caught in his throat when he sees you don’t move away, but ever so subtly lean more into his touch.

“talk whenever you feel like, I’m not putting you in any hurry…” he mumbles, his thumb now gently skimming your cheek in a periodic manner, his palm resting against your cheek, and your face nuzzling against the warmth of his hand.

you nod at his words, just letting his soothing words, touch and presence take all over your senses, before you slowly collect your thoughts to talk to him.

if rafe would’ve earlier known that the way to your heart wasn’t dropping a snarky one liner each time he sees you, but to provide you a safe and comforting space to open up in, he would’ve done it way sooner.

because he’s finally doing what he wanted.

unraveling every thread of your existence till he knows you better than you know yourself.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom

[woahjo]

cw: best friend katsuki, angst, toxic relationship (not reader and katsuki), slight self depreciation (reader), mutual and silent pining....

"why are you with him?" katsuki asks quietly, his voice lowered from his usual register.

you've only just hit the end call button and your chest aches from the harsh words on the other end of the phone.

"what?"

"that asshole," he says, his voice firm. "why are you with him?"

you look at the phone clutched in your hand before letting it fall to your thigh. you're too exhausted to even hold it up. your boyfriend is... hard to understand and slow on the emotional uptake. katsuki, of all people, should know this. he's been around since before the two of you got together, after all.

"i don't know," you respond. "guess after nearly two years i go a little soft, huh?"

katsuki frowns at the floor, his lip twitching with his scowl.

"he treats you like shit."

"he's not so bad," you respond, furrowing your brows at the floor.

katsuki scoffs a little. "what does that even mean?"

"it means i like him," you say, a little indignant that he has anything to say about your relationship, "and you don't know him."

"i know he called you just now to yell at you."

you chew the inside of your cheek. this is irritating to hear, especially from him, from the person you waited years for only to get a regular earful from him as soon as you're with someone else.

"that's because he doesn't like me hanging out with you," you say. "thinks you're a bad influence."

"what's it to him?"

"what's it to you, katsuki?" you snap.

katsuki sits up on his elbows and you run your hands over your upper arms. he frowns, as if the answer is obvious.

"whatever," he huffs.

you blink at the floor, your vision growing bleary. it may be a regular occurrence, but whenever your boyfriend calls you like this, it always hurts. he always uses such harsh words, ones that you don't know how to respond to with anything but tears. it's a shame that you like him, really.

"are you crying?" katsuki says, a bit urgently. "woah, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to- damn."

you shake you head.

"it's not you, sorry. i just-" you swallow and wipe your face. "i don't like fighting with him."

katsuki frowns at you and, for a moment, says nothing. he's conflicted, you can see it in his expression. he's looking at you like he's sorry for you, like you deserve better. he'll probably tell you so, too.

"you don't need to apologize," he sighs, his hand twitching as if he wants to reach for you. "it's that fuck that should."

"don't be mean."

"forgive me," he huffs out. "i wish you wouldn't cry over him."

you shrug, wiping your eyes. "well, i like him, so..."

and it's true, you do. for the most part, things are good. of course, you'd change things. you'd change the phone calls and the passive aggressiveness and the anxiety that follows the threats of leaving. maybe you're pathetic, after all. maybe your boyfriend is just a shitty replacement.

you glance up at katsuki. he's hanging his head a little, resting the pads of his fingers on his temples as if he's trying to work out something, before dropping his hand to rest on his thigh.

"that's a shame."

you register, maybe for the first time in regards to you, regret in his voice.

[pearlzier]

────⠀ RICH.ᐟREADER struggles with showing love.

NOTES ,, might do a tag list specifically for skater!matt and rich!reader if anyone.... is interested... this is just fluff but i think theyre so cute <3.

you don't really know how to show affection towards those you like or love without spending money. you're so used to others doing it for them—your parents throwing a couple of expensive clothes or jewellery at you for your birthday, your friends taking you out to lavish restaurants as a gift as opposed to something homemade or actually thought out. of course, you like all of those things, who wouldn't? but.. they don't know how to not spend money on those you love.

you don't understand the saying, 'money doesn't buy happiness'. it's managed to make you happy your entire life, so how's that supposed to work? like.. it doesn't make sense. so when matt's birthday's coming up, well, you immediately knew you were gonna buy him something nice and take him somewhere expensive.

but you can't help but think that maybe that's not the best course of action, that matt wouldn't exactly want the generic rich kid birthday starter pack. he's got three siblings, damn it, maybe he'd want something a little more.. meaningful? he's probably seen a few birthday dinners at expensive resturaunts in his time, you doesn't want it to be boring for him. you wanted to make an impact, even if you didn't know how.

it gets to a point where you're stumped, completely. you know matt so well, but are so stuck in your old ways and so used to just shelling out some cash for one day only to do it again and again annually, that coming up with anything that he wanted seemed impossible.

a new skateboard? surely he had enough. protective gear? now that was just comical. you hated the feeling of not being able to come up with a meaningful gift to give him. sure, you two aren't dating, but you're close enough to constitute a gift, right? it pisses you off to no end, to the point of upset. you practically storm into matt's room, having been let in by chris when he saw how distraught you were. "you're so fucking hard to please! how am i supposed to get you a gift for your birthday when, when—"

matt's taken off guard. first of all, how'd you get in? he's assuming it was one of his brothers who'd let you in, but.. second of all, you're so upset. he'd thought he'd done something wrong but you're yelling at him about a gift? his birthday? he blinks for a minute, sitting up, "hey, hey, hey," he starts, frowning. the sight of you so upset makes his heart ache in the worst way possible. getting up from his bed, his gaze rakes over you.

it's appreciative, of course, but also concerned. "you're scarin' me, sweetheart, what's goin' on?" he mumbles, taking a little step closer as he reaches out for you. gently, he places his hands on your arms and draws you a little closer. you look up at him with glassy eyes, a little wet with tears that you try to blink away as to not seem weak or make your mascara run. "stop bein' all.." you don't know what you're protesting against, you really don't.

"all what?" his brows furrow a minute, a small, faint smile ghosting his lips. it only serves to make you a little more upset with how caring he is to you, even when you're a bit of a bitch to him sometimes. hey, he's a bitch in return too.

"all nice. we're supposed to fuck 'n' be all passionate, that kinda thing," you mumble under your breath, lashes fluttering as your eyes lift to his. matt feels a warmth flood his chest and he shakes his head, "don't even want you thinkin' 'bout that whilst you're feelin' like this," he murmurs quietly, tone firm but soft. "you gonna tell me what's up, or—'cause we can just watch a movie or somethin'." as much as he was passionate with your body, he was passionate with your heart too.

"wanted to get you something nice for your birthday, yeah? like.. something you'd enjoy, not some shit you'd say you like and then never use ever again," you start to explain, relaxing a little at the touch on your arms finally and melting your way against him. he hums for a moment, slowly nodding his head at your words. "but nothin's coming to mind at all. blank slate—i can't think of anything you like, i've tried every store, every website." you'd spent hours with your laptop and your soft blankets wrapped around you, just trying to find a single gift for him.

"babe," he sighs at the sight of you, the corners of his lips flitting upwards at the realisation that settles upon him. all this over him? over his birthday? god, you're adorable. "really?"

"what do you mean, really—what type of shitty response is tha—"

"hear me out," matt murmurs, interrupting you gently. he rubs his hands over your arms easily, sighing for a second as his eyes meet yours. "what if i don't want all that? what if i just wanna spend some time with you? y'ever think about that?" his hands slide up over your arms to your neck, fingers curling around the back gently. "that ever cross your mind?"

you scoff instantly at that—"well, who'd want that?" he doesn't admit it, but the sound of you saying that about yourself makes his heart ache in his chest once more. shaking off the pang of hurt, he continues after being quiet for a moment. "me, i'd want that. jus' bein' with you makes me happy. that'd make it a real good birthday." you can't deny there's a warm, fuzzy feeling in your heart when he says that. no one's ever said that your company is all they need to be happy.

you bite your tongue momentarily, considering your words. a bashful little look dawns on your face and you look away with a quiet huff. "yeah?" you mumble, looking up at him through your lashes after. damn it, he makes your heart feel all fluttery and warm like no one else has before. you're not sure whether you like it all that much—since it's so vulnerable, but you can't say you hate it, since you don't. "really?"

he draws you into him, his hand sliding up to the back of your head to cradle it before he holds you against his chest. "i mean it, pretty girl," he murmurs, his words completely genuine and true. he really does mean it, he loves you and your company so damn much—even if he can't say it. he doesn't need your alone time with him to end with having sex, or for you to buy him expensive little gifts, he just needs you. "really do mean it. i like hangin' out with you, ain't it obvious?"

"you're so—like," you don't know how to explain it. your head tilts a little, chin bumping against his chest a little as his fingers brush over your jaw. "so.." you're a little lost for words, admittedly. a smile plays over matt's lips once more, his eyes fluttering over your pretty face.

"so what, babe?"

you're quiet again, considering what to say before you make the decision that words can't describe how you feel enough. so you lean in, grasping at the fabric of his shirt to draw him closer and press your lips against his. it's slow, gentle, he blinks a minute to adjust to the fact you're kissing him, but he melts into it almost immediately. his plush lips against yours feels like heaven, parting a little instinctively. resting his hands on the sides of your face, he holds you against him.

after a little bit, he pulls back. "i get it," he murmurs quietly, "no need to explain. i know." he gets you more than anyone else.

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @dayzeandhaze, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @https--roman, @sincerebabydoll, @pillwebb, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7 ִ ꒱

[honeyedmiller]

Checkmate | Joel Miller

pairing: dbf!joel x f!reader

warnings: dbf!joel, age gap (reader is late 20’s, joel mid 40’s), reader is depicted as shorter than joel but otherwise has no other physical description (picture in mood board is for aesthetic purposes only), mutual pining, making out, smut (thigh riding, brief mentions of f oral receiving, unprotected [bc] piv, slight cockwarming, riding), reader’s best friend’s name is hailey, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.

huge thank you to my baby @party-hearses for beta reading this for me. i love you to a million pieces 🖤

a/n: also this is my 900 follower celebration?! i still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people follow me and enjoy what i reblog / write. i love u all so, so much. i also feel kinda bad bc i hyped this one shot up a lot only for the smut to not be that descriptive, but this is more about joel and reader’s feelings than what they essentially do with each other. hope y’all still enjoy it :’)

word count: 4.6k

synopsis: you and your dad’s best friend play a dangerous game, and one of you ends up losing faster than you both anticipated.

dividers by the lovely @saradika

You wiped your sweaty brow on your forearm as you lugged a fifth box into your new apartment. You’d finally saved up enough to move out of your parent’s place. Your master’s degree had paid off after all, landing you a job in the heart of Austin, Texas. You were only a thirty minute drive from your parent’s house, which your mom totally loved. She couldn’t wait to help you decorate your place and hand you down the pots and pans that’d been in the family for quite some time. 

The move wasn’t necessarily a tough one, because you were ready to get out of your parents’ hair. You all got along well, but you were dying for your own privacy and space that you could call your own. You couldn’t be happier now that you had it. 

In the midst of the move, your dad insisted he’d phone his best buddy, Joel. You’d only heard about him a handful of times while you were away at college, and in the months you’d been back with your parents, your dad always went over to his house to watch sports or hang out. When the whole family was invited over to his house for barbecues, you always found yourself either already having other plans with your friends, or you were working. Today was finally the day you’d meet the mystery man that is Joel Miller. 

And that’s when you saw him. Tall, broad, ruggedly handsome, body clad in an army green shirt that showcased his biceps and veiny forearms, dark jeans that showed off the muscle of his thick thighs, and scuffed up boots from plenty of days, weeks, hell–months of hard work that added an inch or two to his already towering height. 

He must’ve been in his forties if you had to guess. His dark brown hair was dusted with slight specs of gray, the  scruff on his jawline mirroring the hair on his head. His nose was strong, and was perfectly fitted with his face. He had dark brown eyes that were kind yet held some kind of sternness—a look that made your panties easily dampen. His mustache framed his lips that were pursed into a slight frown, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like all over your body. 

He looked at you just the same, all but hungry eyes roaming your body as he caught a glimpse of you for the first time. Like a damn deer caught in headlights. 

He was your dad’s best friend?

Oh, you were truly, utterly, royally fucked. 

You introduced yourself to him and he shook your hand, the calloused pads of his fingers meeting your soft skin sending a string of butterflies through your stomach. 

You genuinely don’t think you’d ever been this attracted to someone at first glance. 

After he and your dad helped you move all of your stuff into your new place, you’d concluded two things: one, Joel Miller was a man of very few words–at least, around you that is, and two: you were sure he was attracted to you just as you were to him. 

Was it so wrong to want someone a little bit older? Perhaps not. What was wrong was that he’s your dad’s best friend. You shouldn’t want someone like that. Someone you were absolutely sure could handle you in the best way possible. 

About a month after you’d finally gotten settled into your apartment, you invited your best friend Hailey over a movie night and a glass of wine. You told her about your predicament, to which she couldn’t help but be the little devil on your shoulder and encourage you to go after Joel. 

“Look, I know he’s your dad’s best friend n’ all, but what he doesn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?” She questions, legs tucked underneath her body as her lips curl into a sly grin before she takes another sip of her wine. 

“I mean yeah, but I’ve never done something like this before. An older man, who’s closely acquainted with my dad? I oughta be out of my damn mind.” You sigh, rubbing your temple. 

“Live a little, babe. You’ve been a good kid to your parents your whole life. It’s time you do something for you for once and go after it. Make a subtle move on him next time. That might spice things up a bit.” She suggests, pursing her lips. 

“You’re right. But if I make a move and it backfires, I’m completely fucked and I’m moving to the other side of the country.” You laugh exasperatingly. 

She reaches over to pat your thigh softly. “Only one way to find out.” 

-

You hadn’t seen Joel as of late, but you weren’t phased by it. It’d been a really busy couple of weeks at work, and you were joining your coworkers tonight for a celebratory t.g.i.f. drink. 

Hailey was over at your apartment getting ready with you and you both were already two shots of tequila in. You weren’t much of a drinker, but truth be told, you needed this night out. 

“So I’m either between this dress or this one.” You explain to Hailey, and she studies the options you held up for her to thoroughly inspect. It was either between a black satin mini dress with sparkly straps, or a strapless maroon bodycon dress 

“This one,” She points at the black dress. “With your red kitten heels.” 

You toss the maroon dress onto your bed and take the black one off of the hanger, changing into the dress after Hailey goes to pour herself another shot. You slip aforementioned heels on and give yourself a once over in your full body closet mirror, satisfied with your appearance. 

You wanted to look and feel hot tonight, and it was safe to say you achieved just that. Maybe you’d pick up some hot guy at the bar tonight. He may not be no Mr. Miller, but anyone to take the tension of the past couple of weeks away would suffice. 

You were applying one last layer of lipgloss when Hailey’s knuckles rapped on your door twice, head peeking into your bedroom. 

“Uber’s here. Let’s go get fucked up.” 

You laugh at her enthusiasm, hot on her trail as you locked up and headed down to your Uber. 

The ride was only fifteen minutes before you pulled up to the bar that was already packed. You both slipped inside, spotting your coworkers at a table. They were laughing about something when you and Hailey walked up, and they all cheerily greeted you with hugs. 

It wasn’t long before the DJ was playing some line dancing songs, and multiple people made their way to the dance floor to move their bodies. You and Hailey were the only ones left at the table as you laughed at your coworkers trying to keep up with the beat of the song. 

“Mr. Hottie over there has been checking you out for some time now.” Hailey leaned into you, nudging your side with her elbow as she jutted her head toward a man at the bar. 

You felt your body drained of warmth as you saw none other than Joel Miller standing at the end of the bar, sipping on his beer tentatively. His eyes were locked on you, and the stupid butterflies rumbled around in your stomach once more. 

“Hailey, that’s him.” You say, swallowing thickly. 

“Who?” She gives you a questioning look, the drinks she’s had tonight making her mind a bit fuzzy. 

“My dad’s best friend. That’s Joel.” You say, and her eyes nearly bug out of her head. 

“Oh, girl, if you don’t make your move I’ll force you to make one. He’s a fucking hunk.” 

Your eyes trailed back over to him, taking in his appearance. He switched out the green t-shirt for a gray one, dark wash jeans, and the same boots he wore when he showed up to help you move into your place. 

The way he was looking at you made you want to do extremely sinful things with him. Fuck. Now or never. 

“I’ll be back.” You tell Hailey, and her expression brightens up and cheers you on as you slip off of your seat. 

You saunter over to Joel, drink in hand, and you sip on it through the straw as you approach him. He looks down at you amused, eyes nearly black as he scans you from head to toe. 

“You stalking me now, Mr. Miller?” You tease, leaning up against the bar top. 

Joel scoffs a laugh and sips on his beer once more. “Y’think I don’t have something better to do with my time than to see where you are on a Friday night?” He retorts, but it wasn’t mean. You were sober enough to hear the hint of playfulness in his tone. 

“Mm, not really.” You shrug, feigning an innocent smile up at him. 

So you could be a brat. He bet he could fix that attitude in no time. 

He chuckled at his own thoughts, finishing off his beer as he set the empty bottle down on the sticky bar top. 

“You caught me, darlin’. Any woman as ravishing as you is worth stalkin’.” The slight curl of his lip made you smile. You sipped on your drink some more as you watched the patrons of the bar dancing to the current song. Your eyes avert back up to his gaze, and you step closer to him. 

His eyes move down to your glossy lips wrapped around the straw, wishing so badly that your lips were wrapped around something else right at that moment. 

“What brings you here tonight, Mr. Miller?” You ask, reaching a hand out to touch his bicep. His body goes rigid at your touch, and you fear you’ve gone too far so your hand immediately drops. Joel does a quick scan of the bar before wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his sturdy body. 

“My brother’s best friend’s birthday.” He shrugs, and you nod. You felt like a fucking hummingbird with how fast your heart was beating, and you were sure Joel could feel it with the close proximity between the two of you. 

The air became thick and heavy. Your breathing accelerated, looking up at Joel and into his lust-clouded eyes. His grip on your waist tightened in the slightest, and you nearly whimpered as you felt his bulge through the denim fabric of his jeans. 

“Joel.” Your voice was merely a whisper, and he smirked down at you. 

“Care to line dance, darlin’?” He asked nonchalantly. Your eyebrows furrowed as disappointment shot through you. Were you reading the situation wrong? 

“I don’t really know how.” You say, setting your now watered-down drink on the counter. 

“I’ll teach you.” He shrugs, grabbing your hand and dragging you onto the dance floor. He showed you step by step how to move, but your mind was so hazy with lust that you could barely even focus. 

It’d been months since someone touched you in an intimate way, and the burning need and desire was aflame through your body. All you could think about was Joel’s hands and tongue on you as you moaned his name. The thought nearly made you pout. 

“You even listenin’ to me?” Joel pulls you out of your daydream, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. He was teasing and holding out on you and he knew it. 

His face held pure amusement as he watched you squirm under his stare uncontrollably, fidgeting like a little kid on Christmas Eve waiting for Santa to stop by. 

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You sigh, walking back to the table Hailey was waiting at.

“What happened?” She asks, looking behind you at Joel who was burning a hole in the back of your body. 

“No idea. Guess I’m not getting lucky after all.” You shrug with a disappointed huff of a laugh. You looked back to see if Joel was still there, but he seemed to have disappeared. 

You grabbed your purse and made your way to the bar, leaning over it. The back of your dress rode your thighs significantly, barely covering your ass at this point. Before you could get the bartender’s attention again, you felt a hand on your shoulder pull you back and press you into their body. You were about to mouth off on this person before you realized it was Joel. 

“Fuck, c’mon.” His hand slid down to your wrist, gently tugging it. You looked at Hailey as you started to follow Joel and pointed at him discreetly, and she gave you a thumbs up. 

Joel led you out into the cool air of the night, immediately chilling your whole body. Goosebumps raised onto your skin as he led you to his truck, your heels clicking against the unevenly paved asphalt. 

“What are you doing, Joel?” You ask as you stop in front of a dark truck. 

“I’m about to give us what we both want.” He said before trapping your body against his truck and between both of his strong arms that landed on either side of you. You cocked an eyebrow up at him, eyes and lips glossy underneath the dim parking lot lights. 

“Can’t believe I’m fuckin’ doin’ this.” Joel murmurs before leaning down, smashing his lips with yours. You moan softly into the kiss, carding your fingers into his longer locks. You give the ends a slight tug and he moans into your mouth. You feel the arousal pool in your panties and your untouched core starts to throb. You whine into the kiss, and Joel takes that as an opportunity for his tongue to invade your mouth. 

He tastes like mint now, probably having popped an altoid in his mouth before coming back to get you from the bar. His hands travel downwards and find purchase on your thighs underneath the dress, rubbing circles into your soft skin. He starts to rut his hips into yours, the bulge in his jeans catching onto your clothed clit deliciously. 

“Joel, please.” You choke out as his lips disconnect from yours, hot kisses traveling down your neck and onto your collarbone. 

“Please what, baby?” He asks, voice raspy and muffled as he breathes against your neck. 

“Need you. Fuck, please, just touch me.” You don’t care how desperate you sound to him at this moment. His touch left a trail of flames everywhere his hands landed, and you couldn’t get enough. 

Joel wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the back door of his truck, opening it and helping you slide in. He got in right after you, closing and locking the doors. Your chest was rapidly heaving up and down, trying to catch your breath from the intense moment. 

Joel didn’t give you much leeway, though, because as soon as he spread his legs to get comfy in the backseat, he was pulling you on top of him. You closed the gap between you two this time, rutting your hips forward so your heat sat right on top of his bulging crotch. He groaned lowly, looking down to where your dress had ridden up. He saw your pink lace panties that you had on, and god were you grateful you chose to wear those tonight.

Joel hummed in appreciation as he slid his calloused hands up the smooth skin of your thighs, looking back up to meet your gaze. Your lipgloss was nearly gone off of your lips and onto Joel’s, and he had to admit he liked the sticky cherry flavor. 

“Your daddy would kill me with his bare hands right now if he saw what I was doin’ with his darlin’ daughter.” Joel chuckles, shaking his head. 

“That’s why he won’t find out,” You shrug. “Besides, I’m a grown woman. I can make my own decisions and decide what I want… and what I want is you, Mr. Miller.” 

Joel raises an eyebrow and huffs a small laugh. “That right?” He questions, grip getting slightly tighter on the soft flesh of your thighs. 

“Mhm.” You nod, hand cradling the back of his head. 

“What we’re doin’—this is bad.” Joel chastised, mostly to himself. 

“Relax, Joel. I won’t tell if you won’t.” You twirl the hair at the nape of his neck through your fingers, applying more pressure onto his groin. He grunts in response, adjusting himself slightly as the confinement of his jeans was nearly torturous at this point. 

“Fine. But we’re endin’ this whole hookin’ up thing if anyone gets even the slightest bit suspicious.” He negotiates, and you nod. 

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Miller.” 

Joel chuckles and shakes his head, leaning up to capture your lips into his once again. You hum against him, hands moving down to his chest as your nails scratch over the thin fabric of his shirt. 

You start to grind yourself onto him again, and he groans once more before separating his lips from yours to mumble against them. “Use my thigh, baby.” He shifts you onto his left thigh, and you steady yourself on him by gripping his shoulders. 

“I don’t wanna ruin your pants.” You sigh, the pressure of your clothed clit on his thick thigh already providing the tiniest bit of relief. 

“I don’t give a shit about my pants, baby. Soak ‘em for all I care.” He presses his lips to your neck once more, and you shiver at the contact. You’re shy at first, not ever having gotten yourself off on someone’s thigh before. 

Joel senses your hesitation, so he moves his hands back up to your hips and shifts them forward, causing your soaked cunt to glide along his jean-clad thigh. 

You take over yourself, rocking your hips back and forth at a languid pace. Desperate moans are falling out of your mouth as you fist his shirt into your hands, feeling yourself so close already. 

“Joel, feels so-so fucking good.” You whine, head dropping back. Your jaw goes slack and eyebrows thread together, picking the pace of your hips up. 

“Yeah? Such a good fuckin’ girl, takin’ what she needs to get off.” 

“I need you, Joel, please.” 

Joel moved his hands to fumble with his belt buckle and jeans button to take his jeans off in the slightest, finally relieving his erection. You moaned at the sight of his thick cock, pre cum gathered at the tip. You brought your thumb to his slit, gathering the pre cum onto your finger before bringing it up to your mouth to gently suck on it. 

Joel’s jaw ticked, resisting the urge to bend you over the back of his seat and fuck you senseless then and there. Luckily, he had a lot more restraint than he thought, because all he did was just stare at you sucking seductively on your thumb. 

You shifted yourself so you were straddling both of his thighs now, and you grabbed his cock into your hand to give it a few slow tugs. Joel sucked in a breath at your touch, head being thrown back onto the headrest of the seat. You tugged your panties to the side before you ran the tip of his weeping cock through your slick folds, a lewd wetness sounding throughout the cab of the truck. 

You moaned as Joel hissed at the contact. It’d been awhile since Joel had been with someone, so he prayed to whatever god was out there that he’d be able to last. 

“C’mon baby, don’t be a fuckin’ tease.” Joel grunts, fingertips digging into your hips. You look down at him with half lidded eyes as you sank down onto his length without much resistance. 

The stretch was fucking heavenly. Your lips parted as you puffed out a pant and sucked in a breath shortly after, reaching the hilt. 

“So fucking big. Fuck.” You mewl, fingers digging into his shoulders for balance once more. 

“Stay still for a little.” Joel’s voice was strained, sounding nearly pained as he choked out his words. You felt so good wrapped around him that he just wanted to appreciate your warmth. 

Joel slid the sparkly straps of your dress down your shoulders, tugging down the neckline of your dress to reveal your breasts. His tongue darted out of his mouth to briefly wet his lips, large hands moving up to gently squeeze the soft flesh of your chest. 

“So fuckin’ perfect.” Joel whispers, moving his head down to envelope one erect nipple into his mouth while his thumb and index finger toyed with the other. You moved one hand up his chest and to the back of his hair, threading your fingers through the thick locks once more as you pushed his face deeper into your pillowy flesh. 

The feeling of his expert tongue and heavy cock in you was beginning to be too much. You needed him to move, or at least let you move. You weren’t above absolutely begging him until he gave in, but he seemed to have the same idea as his hips thrusted into you. 

You took that as an initiative to move, so you began to slowly glide yourself up and down on him. You sucked in a sharp breath as the feeling of him repeatedly filling you made your legs shake. He took his mouth off of your swollen flesh to avert his gaze to yours, eyes locking as you moved up and down. He moved a hand down to generously rub at your aching clit, causing your cunt to deliciously clench around him. 

“Gonna ruin this tight little pussy. Just you wait.” His voice is throaty and deep, sending shivers down your spine. The dangerous glint in his eye let you know that he was dead serious. 

You wanted Joel Miller to ruin every other man for you. 

That’s how this, the dangerous thing—the game—started. 

You both were determined to win at something that wasn’t even tangible; something so lucrative to both of you that the consequences wouldn’t even fucking matter. 

It didn’t matter as he took over and fucked his hips up into you at a brutal pace, causing you to orgasm violently on his cock within minutes. It didn’t matter when the windows of his truck fogged up and the drag of your fingertips adorned the glass. It didn’t matter when you reassured him he could cum in you because you were on birth control. 

As months went on after that night at the bar, him fucking you up against the wall of his shower or pounding you into your bed or eating your pussy until you physically could not breathe anymore was all that dazed your mind. 

Fuck the consequences. 

None of it fucking mattered. 

Because, over the months, Joel Miller was the kind of man you didn’t mind having in your bed after you two’ve fucked. You didn’t mind when he slept over, or when he wanted to be the little spoon, or when you both went out on dates like a normal couple would. 

The euphoria of it all didn’t last forever, though. You knew it wouldn’t, but the heavy weight and reality of it all came crashing down on you one day when Joel was buried deep into your warm cunt, both of you teetering on the edge of a climax, when your dad came knocking on your front door. Pure panic seized your body and you had to make Joel hide in your closet like a fucking teenager. 

That’s when you realized you both were way in over your head with this whole thing. Getting caught was going to be inevitable if it kept up like this. 

You were eternally grateful that your dad was a man who didn’t hover. He left your apartment after fifteen minutes and when Joel came out from hiding, you told him that it was way too close and it was too risky to keep doing what you both wanted to never put a stop to. You’d silently promised yourself that was the last time with him. 

Joel tried to argue against it, but you put your foot down. That is, until you got slightly buzzed one night and begged Joel to come fuck you. Truthfully, you didn’t even really need the sex from him. It was just a plus. You just enjoyed being around him so much that having him in some way, even if only physically, was to suffice. 

Little did you know, he felt ten times stronger than what you felt. Joel Miller would worship the ground you walked on, if you allowed him to do so. 

He was at your doorstep in no time, pushing you against the wall and kissing you with such neediness as if you’d disappear right beneath his fingertips. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of panties to which Joel discarded immediately. His thick fingers rubbed against your slick heat, hips bucking to meet the languid pace he set. 

Joel shouldn’t be here.

You promised yourself the last time would be the fucking last. 

And yet, you found yourself willingly shoved up against the wall of your living room by none other than the man you swore you’d stay away from as he leaves hot, fervent kisses along the slope of your neck.

“Joel, we—fuck, we shouldn’t be doing this. We have to stop.”

“Yeah? Not what you were sayin’ when you were practically beggin’ me to fuck you again over the phone.” He grits. He sinks his fingers into your aching cunt, prying a strangled moan from your throat.

He’s frustrated with himself. 

Frustrated that he so easily succumbed to you, allowing himself to wrap himself in the greedy need and carnal desire he had for you. Frustrated that you were twenty years younger than him, and frustrated that you should’ve been off limits.

You were supposed to be off limits, god damnit, but Joel Miller was a greedy fucking man. He just had to have you in a way that nobody else could. 

He really didn’t blame your father if he strangled the man  with his own bare hands if he ever found out what you two did behind his back, in secret, and for months at that. 

Joel knew better. 

He fucking knew better and still decided to get a taste, get a feel, fuck you like no other man had. Something his greed deliciously sunk its teeth into, allowing himself to indulge in the forbidden realm you offered to give him. 

You knew better, too. But you did get one thing you wanted, after all. 

You’d be a fucking liar if you didn’t admit that Joel Miller had officially ruined every other man for you. 

The dangers of the game had sunk its teeth so deep into both of you. It was like the world’s most impossible chess match, and one of you was finally waiting for the other to say “checkmate.” 

 The thing is, Joel lost a long while ago. 

He fucking lost the game. 

He couldn’t stay away from you no matter how hard he tried, and when you called him begging him to fuck you tonight, his need for you practically drowned him in his weakness. 

Joel Miller was not a weak man. You had him under a fucking spell that he couldn’t seem to reverse. 

It’s like you were his fucking kryptonite. 

He was the one that royally fucked in the end. 

Joel wished he didn’t have these feelings that clawed at his fucking rib cage every time he glanced at you, some sort of animalistic creature trying to escape when you were under him, legs spread wide, your warmth wrapped around his cock as he buried himself in you.

Every single time he had you like that, had his lips on you, had you moaning his name like a prayer on Sunday mornings, saw your sweet smile, smelled your perfume that he loved so much, heard your contagious laugh, he knew he lost.

Checkmate. 

tags: @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @amanitacowboy ; @holesandlividity ; @planet-marz1 ; @joelmillers-whore ; @cool-iguana ; @janaispunk ; @freakygothgirl ; @survivingandenduring ; @clawdee ; @danaispunk ; @kiwisbell ; @untamedheart81

[catcze]

The edge of Wriothesley’s desk digs into the small of your back, the hard wood undoubtedly leaving an indent in your skin from how you’ve leaned on it. Any other time you’d frown and huff, but it was difficult to properly gripe about it right now.

“Your grace.”

“Yes?” The Duke murmurs damn near right into your ear, almost low enough to be a purr. With how close he is —how his face hovers over your and his hands rest on either side of your waist, bracketing you in— you can almost hear the rumble of the word come straight from his chest.

You can leave this proximity easily— you know this, and so does he. But for some outlandish reason, you find yourself inclined to rest here, surrounded by him, the desk at your back be damned.

“Your grace,” you try again, voice soft to match his. “What are you doing?”

It’s odd to see the normally eloquent man, who never stutters in his words or backtrack in his thoughts, to be so quieted— almost struggling with finding the right words.

“I don’t know,” Wriothesley settles on finally, a furrow in his brow. “I… don’t know. Something I should have done sooner, probably. This… thing between us has been driving me mad. I feel like I’d regret it if I hesitated any longer, you know?”

And oh, you do. The unspoken tension that hangs in the air when it’s just you two in his office, when you have lunch, or spend time together— you feel like it’s been clogging your airways and making it hard to breath. Each day with you both toeing the line of the meaning of all those longing glances and soft smiles had been wearing on you. What a relief to know that you’re not alone in your struggles.

You hum, leaning forward just enough so your nose brushes his. With a thrill in your stomach, you don’t miss how he swallows heavily, how he blushes just the tiniest bit.

“If you’ve grown tired of our song and dance, then pray tell— what do you want to do instead?”

“Whatever you want,” is his immediate answer. There’s a growing confidence in his eyes, a hope that flickers brighter and brighter with each second you let him be near you like this. “Whatever you’re willing to give me. Whether that be just a single kiss and nothing more, or being able to wake up beside you and kiss you good morning until you get sick of me.” Then he swallows, his words coming out slower. “But if you push me away and you say none of this meant anything, that’s fine too. Like I said— whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll take without complaint.” But I really, really hope that you don’t choose that last one. I think my heart would actually break.

You can see how Wriothesley grows more tense with each second of your silence. He tries to cover it up well, but you know his tells. He glances away, the flush on his cheeks traveling up to the tips of his ears, making him look cuter than you ever thought was possible.

A soft hand on his cheek is all it takes to snap his attention back to you.

“Morning kisses don’t sound too bad,” you tell him slowly, wanting him to hear every word. You think you can feel your heart in your throat. “Though I have to ask: is breakfast gonna be included in this deal? Because a hard ‘no’ to that is an absolute dealbreaker for me.”

And when Wriothesley grins, when he has to fight the laugh that begs to be let loose from his chest and the minute tremble that rakes through his whole body, you think you’ve never seen him more radiant. You wish to see that kind of softness on him every single day. Oh, you’re so damn smitten with his man.

“You’re gonna have to settle with my shitty cooking, but I can at least promise that I’ll try.” The look in his eyes is gooey and warm and sweet— the flavor of melted chocolate and honey.

You wrap your arms around his neck, slinging them over his shoulders, and rewardingly scratching the nape of his neck when his arms come to wrap around and press you to his chest in turn. “Sounds delightful,” you say, and his heart does a flip in his chest. Can scarcely believe that this is real.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” He asks softly. “I’ve been wanting to do it for the longest time.”

You hum, looking at him from beneath your lashes. “Go right ahead, your grace.”

His thumb presses gently against the plush of your bottom lip, the edges of his restraint visibly fraying. “My name, please. If I’m going to kiss you, I’d rather have my name on your lips, not my title.”

“Wriothesley, I’m waiting for that kiss.”

You have just a split second to register the absolutely lovesick look on his face at the sound of you saying his name, the way he melts and shakes against you. How he looks at you so softly it almost makes you choke up. Wriothesley presses his lips against yours, painstakingly gentle as he moves against you, in a kiss much too long overdue— the first in a series of many that he’s all too happy to give you.

[gingerteafairy]

𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 (𝗅𝗎𝗄𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

Luke Cooper called you for a date, and you have no idea why you agreed—except maybe because he's ridiculously charming in that annoying way. Honestly? Pretty privilege was real, and Luke was a living proof.

tags n warnings: fluff, teasing. word count: +800 request by @ikkyfics, loved to write it<3

"Have you chosen something?" Luke asked, his eyes wide with playful innocence, framed by the mess of curls that always seemed to tumble over his forehead. He had a way of looking at you like you were the most important thing in the world, even in moments as trivial as this.

You glanced up from the menu, still trying to make sense of the mountain of choices. "Not yet," you replied, your voice soft, eyes scanning the options. "There’s so many to choose from." You frowned slightly, feeling the weight of the prices. Damn, the food here was expensive. Did he even have money to pay for it? Like, he literally does absolutely nothing on his job.

Luke shifted in his seat, his leg bouncing lightly under the table as if his impatience had a rhythm of its own. "Uh… okay," he said, looking away for a brief moment, before his eyes darted back to you with mischief in them. "How about now?"

"No, Luke. I didn’t," you sighed, rubbing your temples as if the decision were the most difficult one you’d ever had to make. "I’m between chicken and fries, or salad and beef. They're both good options," you explained, your voice trailing off as you pondered the choices. You could feel his eyes on you, waiting for an answer that wouldn’t come easily.

"Oh, right. Take your time." He smiled, his lips curling upward into a grin that was equal parts charming and annoying, like he knew exactly how to test your patience.

You had met Luke Cooper a month ago at the office, and from the moment he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to be trouble. He was relentless with his jokes, particularly pranking Angela and Kevin, and while you’d never admit it to anyone, those pranks made him a kind of sunshine in the office chaos. The way he spoke with that hint of mischief, the little glint of humor in his eyes—it was hard to resist. His messy brown curls framed his face just right, and his pink plump lips always curled into that crooked smile. Honestly? Pretty privilege was real, and Luke was living proof.

"How about now?" he asked again, a soft giggle escaping his lips. His eyes sparkled with a familiar mischief, knowing full well that you were probably getting annoyed.

"God’s sake, Luke," you huffed, frustration slipping into your tone. "Can you just let me choose? Jesus, You're so annoying."

For a moment, the playful energy between you two vanished. Luke, usually quick to laugh at your reactions, fell quiet. His lips pressed together in a soft line, and the giggle that had been bubbling in him seemed to fade. "I’m sorry," he said, his voice unexpectedly serious.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. He rarely apologized, especially not when he’d been the one causing the chaos. You reached out, your fingers lightly brushing his knuckles in an attempt to reassure him. "It’s okay, Luke," you said, your voice gentler now. "Sorry about the… the scream, okay? You’re not annoying."

He looked at you with those big eyes, nodding slowly. A small, sheepish smile returned to his face. "But hey," he said, a bit of his old playful energy creeping back. "You got your options now?"

You sighed and stared at the menu, trying to decide between the same two items again. Luke watches you, his brow furrowed. "You know… I think you’re gonna choose the chicken and fries," he says, eyes gleaming.

"You think so?"

"I just feel like it’s the kind of thing that speaks to you," he says, leaning back in his chair dramatically.

You pause, looking over at him. "Yeah, well, I think you’re right," you say slowly, before glancing at him with a mischievous grin.

"You always do know how to pick out the obvious ones." Luke smirks back. "You ate the same lunch for a month, miss chicken salad and orange juice."

“Have you decided?" the waiter asks, looking between you both.

You glance at Luke, who's already holding up two fingers in the air. "Chicken and fries. But also… salad?" Luke grins, "We'll take everything. Just bring us all the things and we’ll figure it out." The waiter laughs nervously, unsure whether Luke's joking or not, before walking off.

"See? Problem solved," Luke says with a wink.

"You’re lucky I'm not paying for this," you tease, shaking your head.

Luke leans in slightly, his grin turning a little softer, more sincere. "Well, if you were, I’d still be happy to let you treat me," he says, his voice low and playful. "But don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you with the best company you've ever had."

He gives you that smile again—the one that always seems to make everything a little brighter. You can’t help but roll your eyes, but there's warmth in your chest as you meet his gaze.

"You're really something else," you murmur, your smile gentle.

"And you're the best part of my evening."

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@ikkyfics