#but if you wanna plot something out before replying ... feel free

[terrorbitch]

open to: w & nb.

plot: our muses are frenemies (maybe codependent besties who hate and love each other, rivals of some sort, sorority sisters, etc.) and they got into a fight before a big party and ended up splitting up in the beginning of the night. now that it's been a few hours, your muse is looking for her and ... well, surprise! super 'innocent' and mildly religious romy is in the woods with a lower classman. and they lock eyes?

there was a secret anger that boiled underneath the surface. every time her 'friend' tried to set her up with some guy at one of these parties, he was always such a loser. thankfully, she had a few girls she could pull away to help take out her anger on. sneaking away, deep into the woods, she had pushed the girl onto her knees. she already forgot her name, but she had looked up at her eagerly ⸺ and ro couldn't help but smile at the way she did. with her dress pushed up, she grabbed the girl by her hair and made quick use of her mouth. a movement caught her eye for a moment, glancing over to catch said friend staring at them. for a minute, ro thought to push the girl off of her... but instead, she kept eye contact. instead, she moaned out a little louder and pulled her closer. she daringly stared into her friend's eyes, feeling so much better than she had before.

[uluvjay]

Glory days- S. Vettel

Sebastian Vettel x wife! Reader

In which you ask your husband to fuck you like he did in your glory days

Warnings?; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex(plz use protection!), oral(f receiving), fingering(f receiving), dirty talk, ass slapping, degrading, cursing, porn with a small plot, prob many errors & bad grammar 

Part of my 1k celly:)

You blamed the internet for being the reason you were seeking out your husband. The damn tik tok you scrolled upon showing your husband being drowned in champagne by two of his closest friends and then him showing his tongue with his index finger up to the world.

You loved the way Sebastian treated you in the bedroom, there was no doubt about that.

But the video had you missing the RedBull days where he was more wild and would have you pinned against a wall with tears streaming down your face as he spat things at you in German, how he’d tease you for so long you were sobbing and begging for him, the quickies in his drivers room while the entirety of the RedBull team were looking for him.

Finally finding him sat at his desk in the office you snuck up behind him, running your hands down his chest to signal your presence.

“Hi meine Liebe” he smiled taking your hand in his, bringing it to his lips.

“Hi” you greeted back.

Turning around in his chair the man smiled up at you before pulling you onto his lap.

“The girls go down easy?”

“By the second story they were both snoring” he laughed at the thought of his sweet twins fast asleep.

“I’m glad, they love having you put them to bed” you beamed snuggling deep into his chest.

“And I love doing it”

You two sat like that for a minute , his large hand running along your back while he replied to emails he’d been putting off.

“Hey Seb?” Your soft voice broke the comfortable silence.

“Yes darling?”

“Remember the night you won your third championship?” You smirked at the sound of the him taking a sharp breath.

“Of course I do, what about it?” He coughed slightly shifting underneath you.

“Remember how drenched we were in champagne? How you poured it down my chest before licking it up? How you made me come three times in three different ways?”

A cry tore from your throat when his hand slotted in your hair and pulled you from his neck.

“What are you trying to do here Schatz?” He grunted

“I just…We haven’t gone at it like that in a long time, and don’t get me wrong I still love the way you fuck me but I kinda miss us being messy and rough” you spoke looking up at him with his favorite doe eyes.

A growl, an actual growl broke from the mans throat before he smashed his lips against yours, the kiss was hot and sloppy, something familiar but yet forgotten.

His free hand reaching down to grip your hip, pulling you so close you could feel his chest moving in and out against your own.

“Seb” you panted pulling away from his lips.

“What?”

“I need you, please. I need you to fuck me so hard that I don’t remember my own name-like you used to.” You begged the blonde.

Without anymore pleading he slipped his hands under your thighs before standing and making his way down the hall.

“Seb you passed the bedroom” you spoke with confusion.

“I know”

Confusion clouded your mind for a moment until you realized he was opening the door to one of your guest rooms.

“Further from the girls, don’t wanna risk your pathetic noises waking them” he spat, his hands hastily pulling your leggings down.

Slotting himself between your thighs he began trailing soft kisses against the insides of your thighs, lips brushing right past your wet cotton panties.

“Seb, please” you begged.

“Hush Kleiner Hase” he smirked at the yearning whimper that broke from your throat at the name.

His torturing kisses continued along your skin, nipping and sucking along the skin coaxing whines and whimpers from you.

“Sebastian baby-please, I need you” you begged, hands running through his soft and overgrown curls.

“Your the one that asked for this baby, wanted me to take care of like I used to.” He tutted and as much as you wanted to argue he was right.

Sebastian hardly made you wait anymore, usually due to the fact that kids made it hard for you two to take your time.

Finally running his fingers over the elastic of your panties Sebastian hooked a finger in the material and pulled them down your legs.

“So wet for me” breathed, mouth watering at the sight of your dripping folds.

“Oh god seb please” you whined.

Your body was aching for him at this point, wanting nothing more than his body pressed against yours while he fucked you silly and made you come over and over again.

A groan left your husbands throat as he left kisses along your folds, his tongue teasingly running through them. Your body shuddered at the feeling of his mouth finally coming into contact with your cunt.

Your fingers gather his hair in a vice grip, pulling on the locks so hard it had Sebastian whimpering.

“Feels so good Seb” you heaved, body shivering as he ate you like a starved man.

His tongue ran along your folds, moving in multiple different patterns while his nose bumped and prodded against your clit.

Sebastian’s hands pinned your hips down as you attempted to grind against his face, a sharp slap against your skin letting you know to knock it off.

Your thighs shook as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten by the seconds, your moans getting louder and your tugs on Sebastian’s hair getting harder.

“M’ gonna-fuck, gonna cum seb” you cried out.

“Go on pretty girl, cum for me. Want you to cum all over my face.” He encouraged as he slipped two fingers inside you to help guide you to your high.

You arched your back, breath quivering as you came, thighs closing around Sebastian’s head drawing the man even closer to your cunt then before.

Broken sobs escaped your throat as you came down from your high, Sebastian left wet kisses along the skin of your lower stomach while his fingers continued to work you open.

“So pretty Schatz” he cooed in your ear before your body was flipped over and you were placed on your knees with your face shoved into the comforter.

You could feel him shuffling before the warm head of his cock was placed against your folds, teasingly running through the cum and spit covered skin.

Sebastian shuddered as he slipped inside, his hands gripping your hips so hard you knew there’d be bruises in their place tomorrow.

“My fucking god..” he growled at the way your walls hugged him.

He could hear your muffled cries as he kept up a brutal pace, the sounds of skin slapping mixing in with your shared moans filled the room.

Your breath hitched with every thrust, you could feel every ridge and vain as he split you open. His deeps grunts and growls making you clench even tighter around him.

“Ah-fuck. Seb it feels so good” you whimpered as he placed a foot onto the soft mattress to allow him a deeper angle over your body.

“Yeah? Like when I fuck you like a little slut?” He spat, leaning his body over your back to whisper in your ear.

The man got nothing but muffled cries in return as your body squirmed underneath his, your toes curling in pleasure as he fucked you deep.

“Clenching me so tight” he panted into your neck.

Your breath hitched at every thrust, the heat in your lower stomach getting hotter and hotter by the second.

“Se-oh!-m’ gonna cum” you stuttered.

He smirked at the way your body shook due to his movements, how you cried as his hand came down hard against your plump ass.

“Go on Meine Liebe, come all over my cock like a good whore” he taunted as his thrusts picked up and soon his hand was placed on the back of your head; shoving your face into the mattress.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, body trembling, and toes curling as your climax washed over you. Your entire body shook as Sebastian kept going, his thrusts unforgiving as he chased a high of his own.

Grunts filled the room as Sebastian felt the familiar shiver run down his spine and he came deep inside you, your cunt milking him dry.

He smirked at the sight of your fucked out face when he turned your body over, tear tracks covered your red cheeks as you panted for air.

“So pretty Liebling” he shushed as he ran his thumb along your warm cheek.

“Tha-that was amazing” you laughed as you pulled his body down to press against yours.

“Yeah?” He smirked as he placed kisses along your neck.

“Mhm”

“I’m glad because I’m far from being done with you”

-

[goldfades]

STOLEN MOMENTS IN PARKING LOTS──RAFE CAMERON

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine it's crucial that we stand in solidarity with those who need our support. right now, the people of palestine are facing unimaginable hardship, and it's up to all of us to do what we can to help. whether it's raising awareness, donating to relief organizations, or supporting calls for justice and peace, every action counts. we can amplify their voices, shed light on their struggles, and work towards a future where every individual can live with dignity and freedom. your support can make a difference! FREE PALESTINE!

for this request!

─ summary | rafe tries to provoke jealousy by showing public affection for sofia, but as tensions rise, he confronts you and reveals his feelings.

─ pairing | rafe cameron x ex!fem!reader

─ warnings | NSFW!! (with plot) under the cut!! p in v, praise, pretty soft, nothing too cray but it's in the backseat of his car soooo. some angst in the beginning, rafe tries to fight someone (when does he not?), mention of drinking, ummm maybe cheating cause i lowk forgot about sofia cause bro does break up with her... but wtv! it's for the plot!

─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! i actually love rafe more than i do life itself and... i wanna feed yall so PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME ANYTHING. anyways... sorry i just had to get that out there!!

ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!

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The air feels thick around you as you weave through the crowded beach, trying to keep your gaze anywhere but on Rafe. His laugh, louder than it needs to be, cuts through the noise of the party, and you can’t help but notice Sofia wrapped around him.

She leans into his touch, her smile bright as his hands roam casually over her waist, like he used to do with you. You catch a glimpse of them, Rafe pulling her closer, his lips moving to hers in a display meant for everyone, but especially for you. You look away, forcing yourself to focus on the bonfire, the drinks, anything. But it’s impossible to ignore the magnetic pull. It’s like he’s everywhere at once, the weight of his stare pressing into you even though his attention should be elsewhere.

And maybe it is—his lips are on her—but his eyes, whenever you risk a glance, are always searching for you.

You tighten your grip around your drink, jaw clenched against the swirl of emotions building in your chest. Each stolen glance at Rafe pulls at something deep inside you, but you refuse to let it show. The heat of the bonfire warms your skin, the crackling flames a welcome distraction as you will yourself to block out the image of him with her.

The party hums around you, but all you can hear is his laughter—so familiar, yet distant, like he’s a world away, even though he’s right there.

But before the thoughts can spiral further, someone steps into your line of sight, blocking the view you’ve been pretending not to care about. You blink up, surprised to see a guy you vaguely recognize from around town, his easy smile and tousled brown hair a stark contrast to the tension thrumming inside you.

“Hey,” he says, his voice smooth, the kind that carries well over the music. “You looked like you could use some company.”

You offer him a half-smile, more out of politeness than genuine interest, but something in you shifts—an instinct, maybe, to distract yourself, to prove to yourself that you’re fine. If Rafe can move, so can you. So, you shrug, meeting his gaze for longer than you have with anyone all night.

“Maybe I do,” you reply, your voice light despite the ache still gnawing at the back of your mind.

He steps closer, leaning casually on the railing next to you. “Name’s Tyler. You’ve been to these parties before, right?”

You nod, taking a sip of your drink, your eyes drifting briefly toward where Rafe stands before snapping back to Tyler. He follows your gaze but doesn’t comment on it. “Yeah, once or twice,” you say, playing along.

Tyler’s grin widens, sensing an opening. “Let me guess, you’re not a fan of the scene? You don’t seem like the type to be into the chaos.”

You laugh softly, surprising yourself. “Not usually,” you admit, swirling your drink. “But it’s better than staying home.”

“Yeah, I get that,” he says, his eyes roaming over your face, lingering a second longer than necessary. “But I’ve gotta say, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

There’s a warmth in his words, a casual flirtation that makes it easy to forget the lingering tension in your chest. You tilt your head, giving him a look you haven’t given anyone in a while—playful, even if only for the moment. “And why’s that?”

His smile turns a bit more mischievous as he leans in, lowering his voice. “Because I wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you.”

You feel a small spark of satisfaction flare inside, the kind that comes from knowing you’re being noticed, admired, even if it’s fleeting. You toy with the edge of your cup, glancing up at him beneath your lashes. “Well, aren’t you charming.”

Tyler laughs, a low, easy sound that feels like a balm against the tension in your mind. “Just telling the truth,” he says, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm as he gestures toward the fire. “Want to grab a seat by the bonfire? I’d hate for you to be stuck standing here all night.”

You hesitate for a second, glancing toward the beach where Rafe and Sofia are still tangled in each other. But the sight no longer stings as much—it’s dulled, replaced by a sudden urge to push back, to be seen with someone else, just as he’s parading her around. It’s petty, you know that. But right now, you don’t care.

“Sure,” you say, offering Tyler a real smile this time, one that lights up your eyes. “Why not?”

As the two of you make your way to the fire, you can feel Rafe’s eyes on you, burning hotter than the flames, but you don’t look back. Not yet. You settle onto one of the logs beside Tyler, letting his easy conversation and light touches distract you, pretending for a moment that you don’t feel the weight of Rafe’s gaze following your every move.

A few hours (and drinks) later, you find yourself leaning against Tyler’s car, his hands on your waist, lips trailing down your neck as the distant sounds of the party fade into the background. You’ve lost track of how long you’ve been out here, away from the noise, away from him. The warmth of the alcohol buzzes through you, making it easy to forget about the tension that had been gnawing at you all night.

Tyler’s mouth finds yours, and you lean into it, closing the gap between you. His kiss is heated but unhurried, his touch light on your skin, and for the first time tonight, you let yourself slip into the moment. The back of your mind, the part that’s always aware of Rafe, quiets—just for now. Tyler’s hands move down to your hips, pulling you closer, and you tilt your head, deepening the kiss as his fingers trace soft patterns over your waist.

For a few blissful seconds, you don’t think about Rafe at all. It’s just you, Tyler, and the cool night air pressing in around you. Tyler’s touch is comforting, a distraction, a way to escape the complicated mess of emotions Rafe always drags you into. And for the first time tonight, you don’t feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of what used to be.

Tyler breaks the kiss, his lips still brushing against yours as he grins. “You sure know how to make a guy’s night, sweetheart,” he teases, his voice low and breathy, pulling you in even further.

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Do I, really?” You reply, matching his grin, feeling the haze of everything slip further away.

Tyler’s hands tighten around your waist, his mouth once again capturing yours as you press against the cool metal of the car. His kisses are eager now, more insistent, and you match his energy, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. The taste of alcohol lingers between you, the sound of your breathing mingling with the distant crash of waves and faint music from the party you left behind.

You close your eyes, momentarily letting go of everything—of Rafe, of the tangled mess he left behind in your head. Tyler’s lips move against yours, and for just a second, you feel light. Free.

But then, everything shifts.

The tension in the air thickens in an instant, and you sense it before you even open your eyes. A sudden presence, looming and charged, like a storm about to break. When you finally pull back from Tyler and glance up, your heart stumbles in your chest.

Rafe stands a few feet away, his expression dark—dangerously dark. His eyes lock onto yours first, blazing with an anger so intense it makes your stomach flip. Then his gaze flicks to Tyler, and you can practically feel the rage rolling off him in waves.

“What the hell are you doing?” Rafe’s voice is low, almost a growl, but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

Tyler, oblivious to the storm he’s just walked into, straightens up, his arm still loosely around your waist. “Relax, man,” he says, trying to sound casual, though there’s a note of uncertainty in his voice. “We were just—”

Rafe doesn’t let him finish. He takes a step closer, fists clenched at his sides, his whole body vibrating with barely-contained fury. “I wasn’t talking to you,” he spits, his eyes still fixed on you. But then his gaze cuts back to Tyler, and something dangerous flashes there. “But if you don’t get your hands off her right now, we’re gonna have a problem.”

Tyler scoffs, dropping his arm but not backing down. “What’s your deal, Cameron? She’s not your girl anymore.”

Those words are like a lit match thrown into a gasoline fire.

In an instant, Rafe’s on him, shoving Tyler hard against the side of the car. “What did you just say?” Rafe’s voice is low and menacing, his face inches from Tyler’s. His fists are white-knuckled, trembling with the need to unleash the anger bottled up inside him. “You think you can just put your hands on her like that?”

Tyler stumbles, but he manages to push back, his hands coming up defensively. “Chill, man! It’s not that serious!”

But it is. For Rafe, it’s everything.

You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, in the wild, desperate look in his eyes as they flicker between you and Tyler. He’s spiraling, and you know this side of him all too well—the part that lashes out, that destroys when he feels like he’s losing control.

“Rafe, stop,” you say, your voice sharper than you intended, cutting through the haze of tension. You step forward, placing yourself between him and Tyler, your hand pressing against Rafe’s chest. His muscles are taut beneath your touch, coiled and ready to explode. “This isn’t worth it.”

For a moment, Rafe doesn’t move. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, his eyes locked on yours, searching, desperate for something he can’t find. He looks down at your hand on his chest, and for a second, you think he might back down.

But then he shakes his head, his voice tight with frustration. “What’s your fucking problem?” he snaps, his words aimed at you now. “Do you not miss me? Is this how you move on?”

You flinch, taken aback by the raw vulnerability buried beneath his anger. His words hit harder than any shove, cutting through the defenses you’ve been trying to build all night. You open your mouth to respond, but the words stick in your throat.

Rafe’s hands grip your arms suddenly, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to hold you in place. His eyes bore into yours, intense and searching, the anger faltering for a split second as something else flickers there—something almost like hurt. “Tell me,” he demands, his voice quieter now, but no less desperate. “Tell me you don’t miss me.”

Rafe's grip tightens for a fraction of a second, his eyes still locked on yours, searching for something, anything, that will ease the storm raging inside him. His question lingers between you, thick and heavy, but you can’t answer him, not here, not like this. Tyler, still lingering nearby, lets out an irritated scoff, but there’s a tremor in it. He knows better than to challenge Rafe further—everyone does.

You feel Rafe’s breath against your skin, shallow and ragged, as if he's waiting for the moment you confirm his worst fears. But instead of answering him, you take a deep breath, your hand brushing over his chest. “Come on,” you murmur, voice softer now, low enough that only he can hear. “Let’s go.”

For a brief moment, Rafe hesitates, his gaze flickering toward Tyler, like he’s still deciding whether to throw another punch. But your hand slides down, gently tugging at his arm, and his attention snaps back to you. Slowly, his grip loosens.

Tyler, sensing the shift, straightens up but keeps his distance, his bravado from earlier slipping away as he watches you lead Rafe toward the beach. “Whatever, man,” Tyler mutters, though his voice wavers, betraying the fear he's been masking. “You two deserve each other.”

You don’t even look back at him, and Rafe doesn’t either. His focus is entirely on you now, the tension between his clenched jaw and the way he follows your lead without protest. Tyler slinks off, disappearing into the crowd as if he’s suddenly remembered who he’s dealing with.

As you walk further from the party, the sounds of the bonfire and distant music grow fainter, leaving only the soft rush of the waves and the cool breeze whipping against your skin. Rafe’s fingers brush against your hand, and though the anger in him hasn’t fully burned out, his pace slows as the two of you near the shore.

The silence between you is heavy, electric. You can feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down, the tension thick enough to suffocate. His frustration, his desperation—it’s all still there, simmering beneath the surface. But now, without an audience, without the pretense of Tyler or Sofia, it feels rawer, more exposed.

Rafe stops just shy of the water, his grip on you tightening again, though not out of anger this time. It’s almost as if he’s holding onto you for stability, for some anchor to stop him from drowning in whatever dark place his mind has gone. “Why are you doing this?” he asks, his voice quiet, rough around the edges, but no longer carrying the rage that had consumed him moments before. “Why are you acting like you don’t care?”

You feel the words clawing at the back of your throat, the urge to lash out or deflect, but the vulnerability in his eyes makes it impossible. Instead, you stand there, caught between the pull of the past and the mess of emotions swirling around you now.

It’s all too complicated, and yet somehow, painfully simple. You’ve never stopped caring. But Rafe… Rafe has always made things more difficult than they needed to be.

Rafe’s question lingers in the salty night air, hanging between you like a taut string waiting to snap. His eyes search your face for something—an answer, an apology, anything to make sense of the confusion brewing in his mind. But you’re not ready to give him what he wants. Not yet, at least.

The sound of the ocean crashing against the shore fills the silence between you, your pulse racing in time with the waves. You look away, focusing on the dark horizon, your toes sinking into the cool sand as you try to gather your thoughts. Why are you doing this? The question echoes in your mind, but it’s not as simple as Rafe seems to think.

Maybe it’s because you’re tired—tired of feeling like he’s pulling the strings, tired of the toxic push and pull of your relationship. Maybe you’re doing it because it hurts too much to care about someone who only seems to care when you’re slipping away. Or maybe it’s because, deep down, you know that no matter how hard he tries to provoke you, to force a reaction, the person who’s really hurting is him.

You glance at him, and for the first time in a while, you let yourself really look. His eyes are still wild with anger, but there’s something else there too—something that cracks through the hard shell he’s built around himself. His chest rises and falls unevenly, his breathing ragged from the tension that’s been gripping him since the moment he saw you with Tyler. His hands, though no longer tight on your arms, still linger, as if afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go entirely.

“I’m not acting like I don’t care,” you say finally, your voice quieter than you intended. There’s a vulnerability in the admission that makes your stomach twist, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “I just… I can’t do this with you, Rafe. Not like this.”

He looks like he’s about to argue, his brows furrowing, but then he hesitates, the frustration flickering in his eyes giving way to something closer to desperation. “Then how?” His voice is quieter now, too, though it’s laced with an edge of exasperation. “Tell me how, because I don’t know what to do anymore.”

You almost laugh at the absurdity of it all, but the ache in your chest keeps you from it. He doesn’t know what to do? The guy who’s spent the entire night trying to make you jealous, parading Sofia around like some twisted declaration of victory, now stands in front of you, unsure, vulnerable.

But this is Rafe Cameron. The boy who hides his insecurities behind anger and control. The boy who pushes you away just to pull you back in, like some sick game where neither of you ever really wins.

“You think this is all my fault?” you ask, taking a step back, breaking the physical connection between you. His hands fall away, and though his body stays rooted in place, his expression twists as if the loss of contact has left him exposed. “You think you can just act like that all night, throw Sofia in my face, and I’m supposed to be okay with it?”

Rafe winces at your words, and for a moment, he looks away, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I wasn’t trying to—” He stops, gritting his teeth, clearly wrestling with what to say. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Right,” you mutter, folding your arms over your chest, the bitterness in your tone impossible to hide. “Because trying to hurt me is the only way you know how to get my attention?”

He stares at you, his lips parting like he wants to protest, but nothing comes out. Instead, he clenches his jaw and looks down, the anger draining from his posture, leaving behind only exhaustion. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says finally, so quietly you almost don’t hear him over the waves. “I just… I didn’t know how to make you miss me. I don’t know how to do this without screwing it up.”

The confession hits you harder than you expect, a crack in the armor he’s always so careful to maintain. It’s the first time all night he’s shown you anything real, anything beyond the bluster and anger he uses to shield himself. And it leaves you speechless.

Rafe lets out a frustrated breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he stares down at the sand, avoiding your gaze. “I know I’m not… good at this. At us.” His voice wavers slightly, like admitting it is a betrayal of the tough, unshakable image he’s spent his whole life building. “But I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else. Especially not him.”

There it is. The raw, vulnerable truth buried beneath layers of anger and bravado. The truth you’ve always known but never heard him admit out loud.

You swallow hard, feeling the sting of his words settle into the hollow ache in your chest. “Rafe… I can’t keep doing this. The fighting, the jealousy—it’s too much.” Your voice cracks, and you hate how exposed you feel saying it out loud. But it needs to be said.

His eyes snap back to yours, wide and frantic, as if he’s afraid you’re slipping through his fingers. “I’ll stop,” he blurts out, stepping closer, the desperation back in his voice. “I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t—don’t walk away.”

You bite your lip, torn between the part of you that wants to believe him and the part of you that knows it’s not that simple. He’s said things like this before, made promises in moments of weakness, only to fall back into old patterns when the anger returns. But this time, there’s something different in his eyes—a genuine fear that this might really be it.

“I don’t know if you can stop, Rafe,” you say quietly, the honesty of your words hanging heavy between you. “You’re always so angry… and I can’t be the one trying to fix it every time.”

He doesn’t respond right away, his jaw tightening as he absorbs what you’ve said. But then, to your surprise, he nods, his expression shifting from desperation to something more resigned. “You’re right,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I am angry. But not at you.”

You blink, taken aback by the admission. It’s the first time he’s ever acknowledged that the rage he carries isn’t about you—not really. It’s always been deeper than that, rooted in things he’s never fully let you in on.

“So what then?” you ask, your tone softer now, more searching. “What are you so angry about?”

Rafe looks away again, his jaw clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back. But then he sighs, running both hands through his hair in a gesture that screams frustration. “Everything,” he mutters, his voice rough. “My family, my life… I don’t know. I don’t know how to fix it.”

You watch him, your heart aching at the sight of him so lost, so broken. For a moment, all the frustration you’ve felt toward him melts away, replaced by the familiar ache of wanting to help him, to fix what’s been broken between you.

But you know that’s not your job. It never was.

Rafe’s confession hangs in the air, weighty and raw, his vulnerability exposed in a way that catches you off guard. For a moment, all the anger and frustration that has built up between you feels insignificant. The walls he keeps so tightly guarded have crumbled, and in their place, there's a boy you recognize—a boy desperate for something solid in a world that’s been spiraling out of control.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you reach out, brushing your fingers against his arm. His breath hitches at the contact, and slowly, his gaze finds yours again. His eyes are dark, a mix of anger, longing, and something deeper, something that’s always been there but never fully spoken between you two.

“I’m not walking away,” you murmur, barely able to find your voice as the tension between you thickens. “I’m still here, Rafe. But you need to figure out what you want… and stop trying to hurt me to get there.”

His expression softens at your words, the desperation giving way to a flicker of hope. For a moment, he just stares at you, his lips parted like he’s trying to say something, but no words come. Instead, he steps closer, his hands brushing your waist, hesitant, as if testing the boundaries between you.

“Tell me what to do,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how to fix this.”

The warmth of his touch sends a shiver down your spine, and despite everything—despite the anger, the games, the toxic cycle—you find yourself leaning into him. The truth is, you don’t have all the answers. You never have. But standing this close to him, feeling the heat radiating from his body, you know one thing for certain—you miss him. As much as you’ve tried to push him away, you can’t deny the pull that’s always been there, the magnetic connection between you.

“You start by being honest with me,” you say quietly, your fingers finding their way to the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric as if anchoring yourself. “No more games, Rafe.”

He nods, swallowing hard as his hands slide up your waist, pulling you closer, the space between you shrinking with each passing second. “I’ll be honest,” he whispers, his breath ghosting over your skin, sending a rush of heat through your body. “I’m done with the games, baby.”

Before you can respond, his lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s desperate and hungry, all the frustration and longing pouring into the contact. It’s not gentle; it’s raw and unfiltered, like he’s been holding back for too long, and now that he has you, he can’t stop himself.

You gasp against his mouth, your hands tangling in his hair as you kiss him back just as fiercely. The world around you blurs into nothingness—the sound of the waves, the distant party—it all fades away until the only thing that exists is him. His hands roam your body, gripping you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, and you melt into him, the heat between you building with every passing second.

He pulls you even closer, his body pressing against yours as his lips move with a kind of desperation that makes your heart race. It's overwhelming, the way he kisses you, the way he holds you like you're the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. You feel the intensity of everything he's been holding back—the anger, the pain, the desire—and it ignites something deep within you.

You break the kiss, gasping for air, but he doesn’t let you pull away for long. His lips find your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your throat, and you can’t stop the soft moan that escapes your lips. His name tumbles from your mouth in a breathless whisper, and you feel him tense against you, a low growl rumbling in his chest.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough and hoarse as his hands slide under your shirt, his touch igniting every nerve in your body. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

Your heart stutters at his words, the sincerity in his voice taking you off guard. It’s not just the physical connection that’s pulling you back in—it’s the raw emotion behind it, the way he’s finally letting you see the side of him he’s been hiding for so long.

And then, somehow, you find yourself back in parking lot, against his car. His lips never leave yours, his kiss hungry and desperate.

“Rafe…” You barely manage to get his name out as he lifts you slightly, pushing you against the side of his car, his body pressing you firmly against the cool metal. His lips find yours again, and this time the kiss is slower, more deliberate, as if he’s savoring the taste of you.

Your mind spins, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all—the way he touches you, the way he kisses you like he’s afraid this might be the last time. There's a desperation in the way he clings to you, like he's trying to make up for every moment he's hurt you, every second he's pushed you away.

Rafe’s hands grip your hips as he pulls you tighter against him, his touch searing through the thin fabric of your shirt. The way his body presses into yours is almost suffocating, but in a way that you crave, like you’ve been starved for this kind of contact for too long. His lips move against yours with a mixture of urgency and tenderness, a contrast that leaves you dizzy, struggling to catch your breath.

Every kiss feels like a question, as if he’s asking for more, for you to let him in completely again. And you want to. Despite all the games, all the hurt, there’s something undeniable about being with him—something that makes your heart race in ways you haven’t felt since the beginning.

You can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten as his hands slide up your back, his fingertips grazing the bare skin just under the hem of your shirt. It’s almost like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you, as if this is his last chance to make things right.

His lips leave yours for just a moment, trailing down your jaw and finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. You shiver as his hot breath fans against your skin, your body reacting instinctively to his every move. His name falls from your lips in a breathless whisper, and you feel him pause, his breath hitching at the sound.

You feel his hand reach for the door behind you, opening it before he practically threw you into the backseat. Rafe climbs on top of you, and his lips are on yours again. You moan at the contact, your head falling back into the cool leather of his backseat. God, how you missed those cushions.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he murmurs against your mouth, his voice rough with emotion, barely holding himself together. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, and you feel his desperation in every touch, in every kiss that follows. It’s not just physical—there’s a vulnerability there, a need that goes far deeper than the surface.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize what he’s truly saying. This isn’t just about the heat of the moment or the chemistry that’s always drawn you two together. It’s about him finally letting you see past the walls he’s built—past the anger, the bravado, and the façade he shows everyone else.

You tilt your head back, giving him more access as his lips move lower, trailing down your collarbone, and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. The world around you seems to blur, the distant sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the soft hum of the party fading into the background until all that’s left is the two of you, tangled together in the dim glow of the night.

He leans back slightly and all you could hear in the darkness of the night was the clink of his belt, and a shiver went down your spine as you think about what's coming. You almost immediately slip out of your shorts as you slid back, giving yourself enough room to spread out before Rafe is in between your legs.

You can make out his face in the darkness, the faint moonlight casting shadows across his sharp features, highlighting the tension in his jaw. His eyes, those piercing blue eyes that have always had a way of making you feel seen—and sometimes too exposed—are locked on you, and it makes your heart (and pussy) beat faster.

“Rafe,” you breathe, your voice barely audible as his lips return to yours in a searing kiss. It’s slow this time, deliberate, as if he’s savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands slide up your sides, taking the edge of your shirt with them, and your breath hitches as you feel the cool night air against your skin.

Then, you feel his warm tip against your thigh. Never leaving your lips, Rafe slowly leans his cock right into your sopping pussy. You let out a soft moan, the feeling of being filled up by his cock again making your head spin with pure bliss.

“Oh, shit,” he draws out as his head falls back, the feeling of your warm cunt overwhelming. “God I missed you, pretty baby.”

And it feels like time has stopped, like the only thing that matters is the heat between you, the way your bodies fit together perfectly, like this is where you’re meant to be. His hands roam over your back, your sides, exploring with a kind of urgency that makes your pulse quicken as he pushes in deeper into your pussy.

It hurts, at first until he bottoms you out. He's still for a moment as he leans his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy. After he felt you tighten around him, he instantly pulled your hips before he began thrusting in and out of you slowly, as if he was warming up.

“Oh, fuck,” you cry out as your hands find his shoulders. Your breath comes out in short, ragged gasps as you cling to him, your body responding to his in ways that are both familiar and intoxicatingly new.

He's fucking into you at this point, his own grunts echoing in the empty car. You could feel the windows begin to fog up as his thrusts become more sharp, more meaningful. It’s overwhelming, the intensity of it all, but you can’t stop yourself—you don’t want to. You’ve missed this, missed him, even if you won’t admit it out loud.

At the sound of your cries of pleasure, Rafe chuckles breathless. “Oh, yeah? You like that?”

All you could do was nod as he begins increasing the speed of his thrusts, he was rocking into you with brute force but he was still gentle, somehow. His hands reach up to find your throat, holding it as he fucks into you harder. Rafe lifts your hips a little more so that he could reach that sweet spot, and you knew it was over.

“Rafe, fuck!” You cry as your head falls back into the cushion, your mouth slightly open and your eyes rolling back in your head. You're shaking, at this point—you're not holding back whatsoever.

Anyone who was walking by his car could probably see and hear what's happening, and probably think he was murdering you. And they were right, he was absolutely obliterating your insides. But you didn't care, and neither did Rafe.

His breathing is heavy, matching the erratic rhythm of his hips, and he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours. His scent—a mix of saltwater, cologne, and something distinctly him—invades your senses, grounding you in the moment, making everything else disappear.

“Oh, my god I'm gonna—”

Before you could even finish your sentence, the tight knot in your stomach snaps and it feels like everything is still for a moment. You can't even hear yourself anymore, it feels like you were on a cloud as you cum around his cock.

A few more deep thrusts and he was spilling inside you, his own body shaking above you. His lips find yours in a sloppy and desperate kiss, his hips keeping you placed right beneath him. He doesn't pull out—no, he wouldn't even dare. He doesn't want to. Not yet, of course. You both just lay in the afterglow of your lovemaking.

“I missed you,” he finally whispers, his voice rough and edged with something almost like pain. His fingers tighten around your waist, as though he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go. The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning, and your heart stutters at the vulnerability laced in them.

For a moment, neither of you moves. His breath is warm against your skin, his presence overwhelming but somehow comforting, like a weight you didn’t know you needed. You want to say something, to respond, but the words get caught in your throat, tangled up in the whirlwind of emotions that threaten to consume you.

Instead, you reach up, your fingers grazing his jawline, feeling the stubble under your fingertips. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes—an acknowledgment of what you both know but can’t yet fully voice. His eyes close at the contact, and for a split second, the tension melts away, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

Then his lips are on yours again, but this time it’s different. It’s slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring every second, every taste of you. His hands trail up your sides, pulling you impossibly closer, and your body responds in kind, the need for him growing stronger with every kiss.

You lose yourself in the feeling of him—how perfect he feels when he's inside of you, the heat of his skin, the way his fingers trace patterns along your back. The world around you fades away, leaving just the two of you in the darkness, tangled together in a way that feels both new and familiar at the same time.

And for the first time in what feels like forever, everything else fades away. The jealousy, the anger, the hurt—it all dissolves into the background, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, caught in a moment that you know you won’t soon forget.

You’ve been through hell with Rafe, and maybe there’s more waiting ahead, but right now, none of that matters. Right now, all you can think about is him—the way he touches you, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded, the only thing that’s real.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[devilish-cherry]

ᨳ♡₊➳ jujutsu kaisen x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack with plot

"You hate your job. The pay is bad, your manager is worse, and customers are somehow both entitled and clueless. Just as you finish contemplating whether unpaid breaks are a human rights violation, weird new people keep showing up to the café. They all seem to know each other. Sometimes they talk in cryptic phrases. What the hell is this domain and why do they want to expand it? One time, a man with stitches on his forehead walked in, made prolonged eye contact with you, and then left without ordering anything. You’re pretty sure he was a serial killer. Another time, the one with white hair and sunglasses indoors mentioned a "higher mission", and you’re 90% sure this is how cult documentaries start. One of your regulars only speaks in weird food-related phrases. You assume he has some kind of medical condition, but no one explains anything to you. But you are not about to ask questions, because ignorance is bliss and also job security. And unfortunately, they are all weird and they seem very interested in coming back."

꒰ masterlist ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ chapter 6 ꒱ ₊⊹. ꒰ chapter 8 ꒱

ᨳ♡₊➳ or read on archive of our own!

ᨳ♡₊➳ a/n: hey hey! i wrote a little minimum wage, maximum suffering side story for a nanami x reader request! obviously, it’s not canon to this main fic—just a fun little “what if” scenario where the barista and nanami get to be two overworked exhausted souls, bake together, and accidentally start catching feelings. if that sounds like your vibe, feel free to check it out! also, just a reminder that i’m taking requests, so if there’s something specific you wanna see in this universe or any jjk x reader content in general, send it my way! thank you all so much for the love and kind feedback—reading your reactions truly makes my day. hope you’re enjoying the chaos!! 🫶

You wake up to the sound of your phone buzzing aggressively against your nightstand. You consider letting it vibrate itself into the abyss, but then you see the name on the screen.

Greg the Manager.

Of course, it’s Greg.

You contemplate ignoring it. After all, you've gotten pretty good at ghosting calls from him. But then you remember the last time you did that, and Greg left you a voicemail that said, "Hey dude, I know you don’t like getting called, but I need help because the espresso machine is like… emitting a black fog? But no worries, bro, I handled it—put a towel over it."

The towel, you later discovered, had caught fire.

So, for the sake of fire safety and whatever remains of your sanity, you begrudgingly pick up.

"Yo," Greg the Manager answers, sounding unreasonably chill.

"What’s wrong," you say, already bracing yourself.

"Uh. Don’t freak out, but the espresso machine made a sound that was, like… unholy."

You close your eyes. Rub your face. Consider throwing your phone out the window. "Greg. It always does that."

"Like, bro, I’m telling you, it sounded sentient this time."

"It’s just a machine, Greg," you reply, a deep sigh escaping you.

"I don’t know, man. It said something."

You sit up now, the exhaustion of life creeping up on you. "It spoke?"

"Not, like, English," Greg clarifies, sounding very much like he’s trying to convince himself. "But it made a noise that felt like it had intent."

Before you can even come up with something appropriately sarcastic, Greg makes a noise of panic. "Oh god. It’s smoking. Again."

You hang up.

By the time you drag yourself to work, the café smells like burnt espresso, disappointment, and what you can only assume is the palpable scent of existential dread. Greg the Manager is standing frozen in front of the espresso machine, which looks like it’s on the verge of giving up on life—or maybe plotting to drag him into some alternate dimension. You can’t decide. Either way, it’s rattling violently, as if trying to break free from the shackles of this mortal plane.

"Hey," Greg greets you, looking vaguely guilty.

You stare at him, then at the machine, which lets out a low, menacing hum. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" he says, a little too defensively.

You narrow your eyes.

"Okay, so I may have, like, smacked it real hard because it wasn’t working."

"You WHAT?!" You take a step back, half-expecting the espresso machine to come alive and launch itself at you like some caffeinated version of The Terminator.

"I—"

Before he can finish his sentence, the espresso machine lets out a noise that can only be described as otherworldly. It’s a screech that would make an animal in pain sound pleasant by comparison. The lights flicker. A single ominous spark shoots out of its side.

You take another step back, because honestly, at this point, there’s nothing left to do but stare at the impending doom of your workplace with all the grace and patience of a minimum-wage worker who’s clocking in for a shift that’s definitely going to suck.

“Cool,” you say flatly. “So we’re all gonna die today.”

When you hear no response, you turn. Of course, Greg—ever useless—has disappeared. Just gone. Like a damn mirage. You glance around the café, mentally preparing for the usual gauntlet of weirdness.

Muffin Guy is in his usual spot, staring at his muffin like it holds the secrets of the universe, and a woman is peering at the menu like it’s written in hieroglyphics. The vibes are bad. Just another typical day at the café.

And then—because life loves making things worse—the door chimes. You look up to see Choso and Yuji walking in. Well, Yuji walks in like a normal person. Choso, however, enters like he’s surveying enemy territory. He, as usual, zeros in on you like a heat-seeking missile.

"Barista," Choso greets you solemnly, as if he’s about to deliver some deeply important news.

"Choso," you reply, because this is just how your conversations go now.

"I have returned."

"You sure have, bud."

“You look exhausted.” Choso observes, his brows furrowing like he’s genuinely concerned.

You, running on caffeine and spite, give him a tired look. “That’s just my face.”

Choso doesn’t get sarcasm. Not even a little. His frown deepens. "I will give you nourishment."

Yuji, sensing an impending crisis, groans loudly. "Choso, please. We talked about this."

You already know what’s coming. You brace yourself. “Let me guess. You brought an entire feast again?”

Choso, ever serious, reaches into his pocket. You hold your breath.

And then, finally, he pulls out a single, modest red apple and places it on the counter like he’s offering you the Holy Grail.

Yuji’s jaw drops. “Character development?! He only brought one thing?”

Choso nods solemnly, like he just made a sacrifice. “I am learning restraint.”

You stare at the apple. “Where did you even get this?”

Choso pauses. Looks at Yuji. Looks at the apple. Looks away.

Yuji’s expression shifts to pure betrayal. “Did you—DID YOU STEAL THIS FROM THE FRUIT STAND WE WALKED BY EARLIER?”

Choso looks totally unbothered. “The barista needs nourishment.”

“THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOU CAN JUST COMMIT CRIMES—”

Before Yuji can launch into a full-on rant about the ethics of fruit theft, the door chimes again, and in walks a new customer.

This guy?

He radiates vibes.

The kind of vibes that scream, "I’m either a cult leader or a very rich businessman who just walked out of a TED Talk on ‘The Secrets of Power.’"

Tall, sharp features, long black hair partially tied up in a man bun with loose strands framing his face. He’s wearing traditional robes that look like they cost more than your monthly rent. His movements are slow and deliberate with the kind of controlled grace that screams villain.

As he steps inside, he sniffs—like a Victorian aristocrat who just walked into a peasant’s barn. Then, with a look of absolute disdain, he pulls out a small spray bottle, mutters "disgusting," and mists himself like a beauty influencer on a self-care day.

You blink. Slowly.

Did this man just Febreze himself?

He catches your stare. Of course he does. And you instantly know: This man is judging you. Hard. You can feel it deep in your soul.

Choso immediately tenses. Yuji just looks confused.

“...Do I know you? You look sorta familiar,” Yuji asks, like he’s trying to place the guy who just sprayed himself down with Eau de I Think I’m Better Than You.

The man ignores both of them and strides up to the counter.

Then, he smiles.

It is fake as all hell. You would know, you give fake smiles on the daily.

"Hello," he says, voice smooth and deeply insincere.

Your customer service instincts activate against your will. “Hi. Welcome to—"

"You work here?" he interrupts, in the same tone someone might use to ask, "You live in filth?"

“…No. I just wear the apron and make lattes for fun.”

His lip curls slightly, as if your existence alone offends him. "I see. Sharp-tongued for a monkey."

There’s a pause.

You stare at the man.

Yuji sputters, clutching his hoodie like it might protect him from the sheer audacity unfolding before him.

Choso glares, his resting murder-face intensifying.

The man—who is now on your personal Most Hated Customers List, right beneath that one guy who asked if oat milk had dairy in it—lets out a long, exasperated sigh, as if he’s the one enduring the most in this situation.

"It’s just an observation," he says smoothly, like that somehow makes it better.

You deadpan. "Observation of what? My ability to use tools? My advanced problem-solving skills?"

"Charming," he muses, as if you’re some kind of exotic street performer. "No wonder Satoru enjoys this place."

Your eye twitches. Oh god. Of course.

"You know Gojo?"

The man’s expression flickers—just for a second. His eyes darken slightly before he schools his face back into the usual smooth, infuriating calm.

"In a way," he says cryptically, which is not an answer, but whatever.

Yuji cautiously clears his throat. "Uh. So. What’s your name?"

The man smiles, slow and deliberate. "Suguru Geto."

Choso, who has not stopped glaring since this conversation began, somehow glares harder. Geto notices and, rather than feeling threatened like a normal person, looks vaguely pleased.

"Can’t a man enjoy a cup of tea?" Geto asks, all silk and smugness. Then, he turns back to you, fixing you with an expression so judgmental it makes your soul itch. "This is an establishment that serves tea, isn’t it?"

You squint at him. "You seem like the type to order something obscure, like… oolong infused with the souls of the damned."

His lips twitch, like he wants to smirk but refuses to let you amuse him. "Just green tea will suffice."

"Sure," you nod half-heartedly. "Coming right up."

As you prepare the drink, you vaguely register that Yuji looks like he’s trying to astral project himself out of this situation, while Choso—without a word—has positioned himself just slightly in front of you, like a silent, glaring guard dog.

Then, as if the universe has decided that this moment isn’t chaotic enough, the café door SLAMS open.

And in saunters Gojo.

Like he owns the place. Like he’s walking onto the stage of his own Broadway debut.

"HELLO, MY FAVORITE MINIMUM WAGE WORKER!" Gojo announces loudly. "HAVE YOU SEEN A—"

Then, he sees him.

Gojo’s entire body freezes.

Geto, for his part, remains utterly calm. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t shift. The only movement comes from his fingers, lightly tapping against his tea cup you had just placed in front of him like this is some casual interaction and not charged with enough tension to power the national grid.

"Satoru," Geto greets smoothly, tilting his head.

Gojo blinks once. Twice. Then he grins—but it’s different. It’s not his usual annoying, gremlin-esque grin. It’s sharper. Tighter. Colder.

"Suguru," he replies, voice light, but not playful.

You, oblivious to all actual context, just sigh.

"Cool," you say, absolutely exhausted. "What is this? A long-lost soap opera reunion?"

Geto lets out a low chuckle. "Something like that," he hums, setting his tea down with elegant precision. "We're… old friends."

You know drama when you hear it.

“Old friends,” you repeat, skeptical. "Like actual old friends, or ‘we broke up and now we’re enemies who pretend not to care but totally do’?"

Gojo, without missing a beat, grins. “Oh, it’s the second one.”

Geto’s eye twitches.

You nod slowly. “Yeah. That makes sense.”

There’s a pause. The kind of silence thick with unspoken words and deep-seated resentment. The kind of silence that happens right before someone dramatically walks out of a family Thanksgiving dinner.

Naturally, Gojo—because he can’t handle silence like a normal person—fills it.

“Man, this really takes me back,” he says wistfully, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Us, standing together in a café, like old times—”

“We never did this,” Geto interrupts with an unimpressed expression.

“—Me, looking as handsome as ever,” Gojo continues, undeterred. “You, glaring at me because you can’t admit you miss me.”

Geto lets out the deepest, most suffering sigh you have ever heard. “I don’t.”

“Lies.”

You press a hand against your forehead. "I don’t get paid enough for this."

Unfortunately, Geto has now turned his hyper-critical stare back on you, and it is very much unwelcome.

"How pathetic," Geto murmurs, studying you like you’re some kind of pitiful lab rat trapped in the maze of capitalism. "To be stuck in such a miserable life."

You're too exhausted for whatever pretentious nonsense he’s about to drop. "I know you’re about to say some weird philosophical nonsense, and I do not have the mental capacity for it today."

Gojo snorts.

Geto tilts his head, smiling in that way that makes you feel like he thinks he’s playing some kind of intellectual chess match. You are, unfortunately, not interested in playing.

Choso, usually the embodiment of silent, looming presence, apparently hit his limit. Without hesitation, he stepped directly in front of you like he was personally responsible for your well-being, his posture stiff and protective, his face a masterpiece of disapproval. His expression was one part overprotective, three parts ready to physically launch a man through the nearest window.

"Do not insult the barista."

His voice was so serious, so weighted with dramatic intensity, that for a moment, the café itself seemed to still. Geto raised an eyebrow, vaguely intrigued. Yuji looked like he was about to pass out from the amount of secondhand embarrassment. Gojo’s grin stretched wider, already living for the drama.

You sighed, deeply accustomed to the daily horrors of customer service. "Choso, I literally get insulted daily. It’s fine."

"It is not fine," Choso insisted, his voice filled with righteous indignation. "You are valued."

There was a pause.

A long one.

You blink a few times.

Yuji made a noise. A high-pitched, inhuman noise that sounded like a balloon deflating in sheer disbelief.

Gojo clutched his chest, looking like he’d just witnessed the most beautiful love confession of the century.

Geto? Silent. Watching with rapt fascination, like a scientist observing a new species exhibit an unexpected behavior.

Meanwhile, you stared at Choso like he had just dramatically confessed his eternal devotion to a bag of expired croissants.

"I… okay," you said finally, unsure how to respond to this level of sincerity at nine in the morning. "…Thanks?"

Choso nodded, as solemn as ever. "You deserve respect."

Yuji, still desperately trying to process what was happening, let out a tiny, suffering groan, like his soul was actively exiting his body. "Choso, please. You can’t just—just declare things like that—"

"But it’s true, brother." Choso replied simply, as if that justified everything. "The barista is important."

Gojo, absolutely thriving on the chaos, turned to Geto with a shit-eating grin. "See, Suguru? That’s how you show appreciation. Unlike someone I know."

Geto ignored him, his eyes flickering between you and Choso with a quiet, analytical interest. He looked like he was filing this entire interaction away for later use, tucking it into some folder labeled: Barista-Choso Phenomenon. His lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

"My, my," he mused, tilting his head. "How unexpectedly devoted."

Choso, ever the man of direct responses, stared him down. "I would kill you."

Yuji visibly malfunctioned. "CHO."

"Oh, this is interesting," Geto murmured, his eyes twinkling like he was delighted by this development. "Satoru, did you know your little friend here had such a strong sense of loyalty?"

Gojo, grinning like he just won the chaos lottery, threw an arm around Choso’s shoulders. "Oh, yeah. Big bro instincts. Real serious about them."

Choso immediately shrugged Gojo off like he was nothing more than an unwanted speck of dust.

Gojo dramatically clutched his chest, stumbling back. "Oof. Rejected. That one hurt."

You exhaled sharply, ready to throw all of them out. "Can we please get back to the part where I have a job and you are all customers and not—whatever the hell this is?"

Gojo clapped his hands together, bright as ever. "Okay! So! What’s my favorite barista been up to?"

You considered lying. Unfortunately, your reality was too bleak to sugarcoat.

"Oh, you know," you said, voice flat as a pancake. "The usual. Greg is definitely useless. A man tried to pay for his coffee with wisdom, which, fun fact, does not pay my rent."

Gojo gasped dramatically. "Shocking. Wisdom is worthless?"

"Yes," you deadpanned. "Turns out, landlords prefer actual money. Who knew?"

Gojo nodded, stroking his chin like an old wise sage reflecting on the tragedy of the modern world. "Late-stage capitalism. Terrible stuff."

"You don’t know the half of it," you muttered.

And then—because your suffering was never-ending—Greg the Manager wandered in from the back, looking just as dazed and blissfully unaware as ever.

"Yo," he greeted.

Geto’s nose wrinkled in visible disgust. His gaze flicked to you, then back to Greg, and for a moment, he seemed genuinely baffled that such a person existed.

“…Who is this?” Geto asked, his voice laced with pure judgment.

Greg, oblivious to the chaos around him and completely missing Geto's stare of disdain, stretched lazily. "The espresso machine started making weird noises again. It was, like, growling or something, so I put a sign on it."

Your eyes narrowed. "What kind of sign?"

Greg shrugged again. "You know. ‘Out of Order.’ But also, ‘Do Not Anger It.’ Just in case."

Geto slowly turned his head to you, processing this information. His expression was unreadable.

"…Your machine growls?" he asked, a little too intrigued.

You exhaled sharply. "It makes noises. But it’s not haunted."

Geto looked from the espresso machine, back to you, back to the espresso machine, like he was staring at a very stupid child.

"…You poor, oblivious fool."

Before you could fire back with peak sarcasm, the espresso machine let out an unholy screech that could only be described as a hundred lost souls wailing in agony.

The lights flickered violently.

Muffin Guy finally blinked.

Geto’s fingers stilled around his cup. His gaze flickered toward the espresso machine with genuine curiosity.

"Tell me," he said, tilting his head. "Do you ever feel like something is… watching you in this place?"

"Dude, I work in customer service. I feel eyes on me all the time."

Geto chuckled, seemingly amused by your suffering. "No, not customers. Something… else."

"Oh my god," you scoffed. "Are you also about to tell me the espresso machine is cursed?"

The espresso machine, as if personally offended, let out another deep, guttural groan. The lights dimmed.

You refused to react. This was just your life now.

Geto raised a single brow. "You don’t find that strange?"

You sighed and crossed your atms. "It just does that sometimes."

"Fascinating." Geto mused, though you had the sense that he was being condescending. He then turned to Gojo, still lounging near the counter. "Satoru, I have to ask. Why haven’t you exorcised that thing yet?"

Gojo grinned. "Hey, it’s part of our beloved minimum wage worker’s daily experience! It would be cruel to take away such an iconic workplace feature."

"Why does everyone keep making ominous comments about my espresso machine?!" you demanded. "It’s just a little broken!"

Greg the Manager nodded sagely and put his two cents in even though nobody asked. "Yeah. Just a little."

The espresso machine rattled violently.

Greg backpedaled. "Actually, maybe more than a little."

You caught Choso still glaring at Geto like he was actively plotting his downfall. Yuji, meanwhile, looked like he was actively trying to escape this awkward situation through sheer force of will.

And then—just when you thought it couldn’t get worse—Geto picked up his tea and walked straight to the nearest table.

And sat down.

And got comfortable.

Your stomach dropped.

"…You’re staying?" you asked, dreading the answer.

Geto sipped his tea, looking far too smug. "Oh, yes. I think I’ll linger."

You turned to Gojo, silently begging for intervention.

Gojo just grinned. "Oh, buddy. He’s a linger-er."

Your soul left your body.

Yuji, still tense, whispered to Choso, "Uh. We should probably go."

Choso crossed his arms. "Not until he leaves."

Geto, ever the bastard, smirked.

Yuji groaned, fully done with everything. "Oh my god. This is literally the worst possible dynamic."

It was.

It really, truly was.

And as you watched Geto settle in, taking in the café like he owned the place, you realized something horrifying:

Your life was about to get even worse.

₊⊹. tag list: @alpha-mommy69 @luluminati @amortsukii-writes @inthedarkshadows000 @isomehowexist @not-aya @emochosoluvr @lov3vivian @literallyushiwaka

[serasheart]

Dreams ✭ Choso Kamo

Synopsis ღ on a windy night in Shibuya, you decide to stay over at a friends house. However, when you go to sleep, you’re met with a weird dream.

Warnings ღ smut, oral sex, male receiving female giving, vaginal sex, cream pie, porn with plot, somnophilia (kind of)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶

"Thank you for letting me stay with you, Cho." You sigh as you fall back onto his couch, your eyes closing as your body relaxes into the soft leather.

"No worries, weather seems pretty bad, wouldn't want you to catch a cold." He states, tired figure slowly pouring the coffee into his signature mug before taking a sip.

"Yeah, that would suck." You laughed as your eyes open from their previous nothing, now staring at the man leaning on the kitchen counter.

He stares back at you in silence, your eyes meeting for what feels like an awkward amount of time before he tears his gaze from your own and clears his throat.

"I probably have a spare blanket somewhere in a storage closet." He mutters, straightening his posture as he begins to walk down his hallway, opening what seems to look like said storage closet before speaking up.

"Bingo." Reaching into the closet, he pulls out a fuzzy white blanket, a faint smile plastered across his face as he shows you proudly.

You chuckle a little at his childish demeanour before sitting up from the couch, he walks over towards his living room before passing you the blanket.

"Thanks." You speak, sitting the fuzzy fabric on your lap before looking over to the clock which read 11:32pm.

"Don't wanna keep you up, feel free to make yourself at home, I still have a few things I need to do before im off to bed anyways." He says, walking past you into a door that lead to the laundry room.

"Ill take you up on that offer." You replied, yawning a little and stretching as you did before laying down on the leather couch. it was comfortable and warm but your back would probably kill you in the morning with the way you were sleeping.

You spread the fuzzy blanket on you, kicking it over your figure to rest below your feet and ensure you're (for the most part) engulfed in the comfy warmth.

Choso gives you a hum in reply, nothing more, nothing less. You think nothing of it as your eyes begin to close and the stress of today sinks in, Immersing you into a deep, deep sleep.

You find yourself in what seems to be a dream, you rub your eyes and sit up a little before looking around. To your surprise, you’re in Choso’s apartment in the dream.

‘That’s weird.’

You thought to yourself before shaking your head, you try to get up before the sinking weight beside you catches your attention.

It’s only then that you realise you’re in a bed, Choso’s bed, to be exact. You’re quite surprised by this, your eyes widen as you stare down at the man who wore only a baggy white t shirt and boxers.

You tried not to think too much of it, because after-all, it was a dream. Nothing more than a dream, but curiosity took the best of you when you were lost in thought.

It’s almost as if for a second, you forget it’s a dream. Because you stare at him.

…

For a really long time, your eyes trail across his face and his features, his messy jett black hair clinging to his sweaty face as his plump, pale lips part ever so slightly.

‘Was he always this attractive?’

Something about his appearance to you was just… so enticing. As if it was welcoming you in, and your eyes ate up every last drop of it like it was candy.

The idea made you chew your lip a little, gaze narrowing as you continue to stare shamelessly before he rolled over, now facing you as his eyes remained closed.

You found a million thoughts running in your mind, the loudest voice telling you his lips looked so sof-

‘What the fuck?’ You violently shake your head, trying to rid yourself of such thoughts about a close friend, but still, you find your gaze lingering on his lips just a little longer.

Everything in you was telling you not to, that it would be weird, that you shouldn’t even have such thoughts about someone who had been so sweet to you, even in a dream!

But… you were curious. Very curious about what would happen if you were to try, afterall

It wouldn’t hurt, right?

That’s the only thing you managed to bring into thought before you pressed your soft lips onto his own, placing a heavy peck on the flesh before pulling back. Your face instantly reddens at the realisation.

‘Ohmygod, Ohmygod, Ohmygod!’

You stare at him intently, the anxiety raising high in your chest as the guilt sinks into your stomach. You watch for any motion, any sign he’s awake. To your relief, nothing.

Your index comes up to graze your bottom lip ever so slightly, caressing the place in which once touched his own.

You don’t even know what came over you in the moment, one second you were staring at him and the next your lips were on his. Is something wrong with you? Why were you feeling this way?

Your ears perk up and bring you back into reality when you hear Choso groan, accompanied by a shuffle not too long after as he turns to lay flat on his back.

Freezing up, all you can do is stare down at him. Your heart beat is uncontrollably erratic, everything in your mind telling you you’ve just been caught, all for him to keep snoring away.

After a few moments pass by, your figure unfreezes. You don’t know what to do as you awkwardly and anxiously sit there, trying your hardest not to fumble around.

That’s before a wave of confidence rushes over you again.

All you can think about is how good his lips felt on yours; how you wanted to taste more of him.

It was stupid, and it was perverted. You leaned back in, anyways.

You embrace him in a kiss, lips pressing against eachother for just a few more seconds than they had before. It was a dream, afterall. Who cares if you got caught?

Bringing yourself back as your eyes hazily stared at his sleeping face, painted with something a little more than romance.

Faces just inches away from eachother before you went back in for more, the exchange more rough this time before an idea managed to pry itself into your head.

You lightly caress his face, just under his chin as you softly slip your tongue into his mouth. You pause for a moment, eyes opening as you stare down at him for a reaction just to be met with nothing.

You continue to slip past his lips and teeth, meeting his own tongue as your hand gently parts his jaw in order for you to gain more control.

A couple seconds go by as you continue your perverted act on the poor, sleeping man. Unbeknownst to him, you pull away a little, the only evidence of your departure being the string of saliva that connects you two.

Brought back from your daze, you sit up, trying to process what the fuck could’ve made you act that way to someone you thought of so closely. There was a little shame in your expression before you went to lay back down.

His bed was comfortable, a lot more comfortable than the couch, at-least. But I guess that’s a given. It was made for sleeping on.

Everything in this dream felt so unbelievably real, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it would’ve been reality.

For the past few years, you always had a slight crush on Choso, but you never acted on it because you know he wouldn’t consider the possibility of a relationship. He found it hard to understand the concept of friendship alone.

Overtime, it was washed away with your messy love life and all the douchebags you dated. Choso never liked any of them, anyways.

You guess your feelings for him never truly ceased since in the moment you were unable to stop yourself from having your flesh on his. You can’t help but feel bad for doing that to the unconscious man, even if you know it was a dream, it was wrong.

You glance over at him, his eyes still shut softly as you sighed. You could only make the most of such a dream before you woke up.

You sit up a little, leaning in softly this time and pressing another kiss onto his lips. By this point, any anxiety you had felt about him waking up and seeing you do that was long past.

Staring down at his face, you search for his expression. He looked so peaceful sleeping, even if this, too, was only a dream.

You didn’t think much before you leaned in again, cupping the man’s face as you kiss him, more deeply this time.

The passionate kiss quickly turned to you craving his taste once more, the idea shamefully plastered in your head and getting more tempting by the second even though the guilt you felt had been overwhelming.

You ultimately decided fuck it, leaning in and slipping your tongue back into his mouth as you messily entangle it with his own, the gesture deep.

Saliva drips down from your mouth but you’re too far to care by this point, hands still caressing his face, just a little roughly this time.

Choso groans into your mouth, his eyes opening a little in the moment and your heart stops.

Your world dissipates, the breath catching in your lungs as his eyes manage to open fully before they widened, you could feel his heartbeat speed up at the situation before you pull away.

‘Just a Dream, just a Dream, just a Dream, just a Dream.’ You chanted to yourself, yet the feeling of being caught scared you half to death.

You quickly pulled away, wiping your mouth, but of course that’s not gonna save you the humiliation. You sit there, not saying anything as he just stares at you, quickly sitting up.

After a few seconds of silence goes by, you begin to speak, attempting to apologise.

“I’m sorry cho- Choso. I don’t know what I was doi-“ He swallows, hard. His eyes were elsewhere, the obvious tent in his boxers so painfully hard.

You pause for a second, everything was just so shocking to you as you try to process what’s going on. It was supposed to be innocent, and he wasn’t supposed to wake up. Even if this was a dream, you were scared as shit.

He clears his throat, his croaky, tired voice speaks up,

“I-… It’s fine, Y/N. You don’t have to explain yourself.” He says, almost breathlessly. He too, is still trying to process what just happened.

You seemed to have notice the tent in his boxers aswell, because your eyes were gazing the exact same way his were. He lifts his head a little, staring at you before his face reddens. He doesn’t know why; but he feels exposed like this.

“I-i’m really sorry, Choso. It wasn’t supposed to-“ He grunts, the sound of his name slipping past your lips after he caught you doing such a dirty thing whilst he was sleeping made him shake a little.

He coughs. “Listen, it’s not a big deal. I’ll go deal with this and we can pretend like it didn’t happen.” He states firmly, he goes to sit up before you grab his wrist.

“Wait!”

“I can help you..?”

He stares down at you, a shocked expression on his face before the flush from before quickly spreads itself upon his pale complexion.

Unfortunately, the suggestion only went straight to his dick. It throbs against the thin fabric in response, his heart was racing so fast.

He shakes his head a little, eyes squeezed tightly shut. He tries to speak up, his voice cracking a little:

“N-no. Wouldn’t that be… weird?”

You shake your head, eyes coming to meet his own as he stares down at you with such a lust stricken gaze. He was scared of being informal, scared of being more.

He hesitantly agrees, sitting back down on the bed before he stares at you in anticipation. You guys sit there for a minute before you clear your throat

“I could… use my mouth?” You suggest, innocently to the poor man whose heart was beating so fast he thought he might have a heart attack.

“I- uhm. Okay.” Is all he manages to get out, his deep voice echoes in your ears as you manage to finally get a reply out of him.

“Okay.” You smile, a little bit more eased into the situation as you stared up at him, his eyes meeting yours.

Even though this supposedly wasn’t reality and was just a dream, his reactions seemed very like Choso.

“Just relax, it’s gonna feel good more than it’s gonna hurt.” You say to the innocent man, your fingers lacing with the hem of his boxers before pulling them down slowly.

Choso grunts a little as the cold air brushed along his now exposed length. You took a moment to soak the details in, biting your lip a little.

He was uncircumcised, trimmed pretty cleanly but unkempt in a way, very girthy and had a lot of prominent veins, also while maintaining a good length.

It was pale, just as his skin, but the tip was a light pink.

You don’t know why, but the only thing you thought of in the moment was if this was how Choso actually looked.

He stared down at you, looking for any type of reaction. He was starting to feel insecure under your gaze before you giggled.

“You’re so pretty, Cho.” The nickname rolled off your tongue effortlessly, not helping his case as you watched his member throb at the words. He groans a little in reply.

You stare up at him, glassy eyes stared back at you, such vulnerability entrusted in your hands. How could you not help a friend?

A hand comes to wrap around him softly, but firm. He flinches in reply, letting out a harsh breath. You divert your attention from his face to his member, slowly beginning to move your hand rhythmically as you keep a steady pace.

This action rewards you with little whimpers, Choso’s eyes on your hands touching him so sweetly. He bit his lip so hard it began to bleed. Choso’s chest was heaving, trying to steady his breathing as his heart beat so fast.

You continued to stroke his girth, rubbing the veins attentively with your thumb occasionally which caused him to slip a sound. The sensation felt way better than his own hands, and he couldn’t help but whine.

His eyes squeezed shut, the pleasure of your soft, small hands being wrapped around his dick made him almost burst at the thought alone.

That was until he felt something warm wrap around him, his closed eyes abruptly shot open as a loud gasp erupted from him, followed by a moan as you lightly swirled your tongue around his dick.

It was likely Choso hadn’t had sex, let alone a blowjob. He only had recently started living as a human, so this was probably how you thought he would react.

You sink your mouth down on him further, your palm wrapped firmly at his base as you pull back, kissing his tip before going back down and taking as much of him you could possibly fit in your mouth.

You swirled your tongue, bobbing your head as you stroked the parts you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Your tongue lightly rubbing against a vein on his girth, causing him to moan loudly.

Choso’s eyes were back to being shut, but his left hand went to quickly grab hold of your hair, entangling his fingers in the strands as his right hand gripped the sheet.

The sensation of your tongue gliding along his cock is enough to send him into a spiral, he tries hard not to squirm under your touch but it’s hard with what you’re doing to him.

All he can do is feel the hot, wet saliva of your mouth drip down his dick, while your tongue is consistently prodding and touching all the right spots. It doesn’t help the fact your small hand is rubbing up against the parts you can’t fit.

It doesn’t take long before Choso feels himself drawing closer to the edge, the knot in his stomach threatening to snap into your mouth as his lip has been chewed raw by this point.

Tears well up in the poor man’s eyes, the pleasure being too much for him to handle. He never knew that it could feel this good, in fact, until a while ago he didn’t even know he could ejaculate.

His grip on your hair tightens, his vision begins to get blurry as all he can do is babble moans, the whimpers flowing out of his mouth as if he had been doing this for years.

Without warning, the tall man is coming undone in your mouth. White stringy semen spurts down your throat as he pushes your head down further, almost fully engulfing himself in the warmth of your mouth.

White paints his vision, his head is nauseous and his legs are shaking as his balls tighten, the addicting feeling of orgasm washing over him as he shoots load after load in big waves, not stopping for a second until he was done.

The sounds of his pleasure didn’t do anything but go straight to your core, shamelessly.

When he realises what he did, guilt and regret contorts his face. He instantly pulls you off of his length as you’re coughing, choking on the thick liquid he just released.

He slaps your back hard before you finally come down from your coughing fit, swallowing what you could.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, it just felt really goo-“

When he looks down at you, breath heavy from his orgasm and fit of apologies, he pauses and he evidently stiffens.

You’re confused for a second before you go to wipe your mouth, noticing a little bit of cum had leaked down from your mouth when you were probably coughing.

You look back at him, staring at eachother in silence before he swallows. He could feel the blood rush straight to his dick as his face flushes once more.

Both your hearts are beating fast, the silence is so thick it could be cut with a knife. The air smelled like sex, the tension was bad.

“Um… im sorry. I didn’t mean to…” his voice cracks and croaks, he tried to keep a steady tone but he couldn’t help it. He was so embarrassed at how fast he came, and he was embarrassed he was hard again.

“Don’t be, it’s… not a big deal.” You smile at him awkwardly, as you both sit there.

Your gaze lowers again, still a little taken aback at the fact he was hard once more. Before meeting his eyes

“I can help you again; but you have to promise to be good, okay? Don’t do anything, just relax.” You were speaking on the moment, it’s not like this wasn’t a dream or something.

Choso almost instantly nodded, his mind stopped listening at ‘help you again’

You began to undress, pulling your shirt over your head and kicking your pants off, quickly disposing of them. You’re in just your bra and panties now.

Choso just stared, shamelessly at this point, At your boobs. He ogled them, his face was as red as a cherry.

He took a second to take in your figure, the way your body curved and the way your skin looked so nice, the big plump balls of fat that rest on your chest especially catching his eye.

You never decided it was anything deeper than thought, but you always thought that Choso would be a boob guy.

Your fingertips grab at the hem of your panties, pulling them down to fully expose your cunt in which is seeping slick.

Choso just stares, you notice his breath speeding up as he gets more giddy, probably out of nervousness.

Before he can say anything, you hook a leg over his side while your other one rest the opposite, straddling him.

You lean in, pulling him into a kiss that quickly turns hungry. You’re pushing your tongue past his lips greedily as your tongues fight for dominance, ultimately exploring his mouth.

One of your arms that were previously wrapped around his neck goes down to grab at his cock before lightly teasing it, rubbing against your folds.

Choso whines into your mouth in reply, his hips involuntarily bucking up causing you to gasp. His hands come down to grab at your ass, gripping tightly as he forces you down onto his dick.

You moan into the kiss, the sudden intrusion of your walls causing you to clench harshly around him.

Choso whimpers in response, instinctively thrusting up into you, his tip kissing your cervix so easily with how his length fits inside, you grind down against him.

You pull away from the kiss, your tongue leaving his as a thick strand of saliva connects you two, you stare at him intently before you bite your lip, Choso watches you as you bring yourself up then slam down.

He moans as you begin to ride him, the position you’re in making it easy for him to control when you go down. His strong arms easily lift you up and slam you onto his dick, each time you can feel his girth slam against your poor cervix.

Your vision is hazy, you moan along with him as he continues to control the pace and rhythm, using you as you leak so shamelessly onto him.

“F-fuck, Y/N!” He moans, his eyes are shut. You’re taken aback a bit, definitely not enough to override the pleasure but you’re shocked at the sudden swear considering you’ve never heard him swear.

Your legs are weak and shaking. you shuffle a little, only for him to thrust up into you as he slams you down onto him once more.

He comes up to cup your breasts through your bra as you continue to grind down on his dick, he looks up at you, his eyes almost pleading before you nod, moaning.

He almost tears it off of you, his palms hungrily fondling your tits as your eyes roll back, the feeling of him thrusting up into you as he fondles with your boobs going straight down to your core. Your legs are getting so tired.

You’re out of breath by this point, the moans slipping past your lips so effortlessly as you ride his thick cock, the delicious stretch of your walls squelching with each thrust.

The room smells of thick sex, the only thing besides moans and slapping of skin that can be heard is the rumbling winds outside.

Choso drops his hands from your boobs, resting them firmly on your hips before positioning you into an easier accessible position.

Without warning, he thrusts up into you. It’s at that moment a pleasurable sensation washes over you, your stomach tightening hard. You moan loudly, Choso continues his motion as he realises what he found. He begins abusing your g-spot, your cunt instantly tightening around him as he rams into it.

Harsh thrusts cloud your mind, the pleasure washes over you like nothing has before, the fact that this was a dream being long forgotten by now; if this was a dream, you didn’t want it to end.

Everything felt good in the moment, the knot in your stomach only built up and up, threatening to snap at any second in given time. It begins to tighten, and tighten.

Choso leans in, wrapping his mouth against your sensitive tit, swirling his tongue around as his left hand goes down to rub at your clit in a circular motion, urging you to cum.

You moan loudly, hot pleasure painting your vision as your mind clouds up. Before you know it, you’re cumming hard on his thick cock, not long after he trails you, cumming inside you as the thick white liquid spurts in loads into you.

“I’m sorry!” He moans

The pleasure of your orgasm is enough to wear you down, you take a while to come down from it as your legs shake violently, you can feel Choso under you, moaning loudly as he releases inside.

Your body is so tense as you come back to reality, when you finally manage to shake it, you get off of him, laying down next to him as your chest heaves, feeling his seed trickle down your legs from your pussy.

After everything that happened, the only thing you wonder is why you haven’t woken up from your dream yet. It’s been so long.

You shake your head, trying everything to wake up. But you can’t.

That’s until he says something that makes it register.

“Also… uhm, Im sorry I moved you into my bed, you looked uncomfortable on the couch.”

…

[cxvii666]

"WHY'S THIS DEALER? TAKING THE PISS!?"

college au! stoner!hanta sero x fem!plug reader

“i kinda wanna bell him, but i've already belled him, he gets annoyed with how much i bell him,”

wc: 1.2k

the extended play: track 2, track 3

it’s a few days later, and hanta’s still trying to wrap his head around how the hell denki pulled this off.

they're at the bus shelter down the road from mina's flat. it's almost identical to the one from a few days ago — same crack in the pavement, same slightly busted bench that feels just a little too hard, like it was made for someone much taller than either of them, same cigarette butts scattered around like confetti.

hanta sero 's squatting on floor, back resting against the plastic screen, rolling a cig. he's half paying attention to the weather (which, of course, is cold and wet and annoying), and half paying attention to denki. the guy is bouncing around, looking as annoyingly chipper as usual. as if everything isn’t one giant cluster of "what the fuck?"

“so,” denki grins his stupid little smile, and he says in a puff of kiwi guava passion-fruit, “i was thinking, why don’t we invite her to mina's party? she'd totally be down, right?”

hanta squints at him as he fishes through his hoodie for a lighter. “who?”

denki looks at him like he’s the idiot. “her, man. you know, her.” and he points vaguely toward the horizon, as if the answer is self-evident.

hanta raises an eyebrow, finally putting two and two together. “wait, you mean—oh, fuck off, you’re seriously gonna call her? right now?”

“oh, totally. she said she was free.” denki's already pulling out his phone, face glowing with that stupid confident smugness that he always seems to have, and an “i'm about to make this happen~" expression that hanta can’t stand. “trust me, she’ll come.”

hanta squints up at his friend. “you are not calling her right now, you know that, right?”

but it’s already too late, denki is cheesing, phone to ear shushing hanta as the ringing stops and the line clicks, he swaggers off behind the bus stop with a "hey baby, watchu up tonight?"

hanta knocks his head back and sighs, sparking up his cigarette and plotting how tf hes gonna killl his bestfriend and come up with a believable cover story.

within seconds, hanta’s phone buzzes. the screen lights up with a text from denki to the group chat. "yo, I just invited my friend to da partyyy. Hope dats cool :3"

mina replies instantly with a "of courseeeeee !!!!!" as hanta scrambles off the ground after his friend. “you didn’t.”

“oh, I did.” denki winks, walking backwards and narrowly dodging a telephone pole in the middle of the sidewalk, practically vibrating with excitement.

hanta groans maybe he can get bakugou to help him hide the body. denki's or his own, he's not sure yet.

by the time the party rolls around, hanta’s not sure what’s worse: that he’s actually looking forward to it, or that denki’s probably masterminded half of it. he rolls up to the venue, mina's cramped, barely-lit apartment on the edge of campus, and immediately regrets every decision that led him here.

the front door is cracked open, the sounds of music and voices spilling out into the street like it’s some kind of wild circus. the familiar smell of weed hits him even before he steps inside, thick and pungent, mixing with cheap beer, cologne and the faintest hint of sweat. he steps through the door, practically getting knocked over by the surge of people.

and there you are.

hanta spots you immediately, even though there’s a sea of bodies moving around. you’re laughing at something kirishima just said (or maybe it’s bakugou, hanta’s not sure — both of them are too loud and too obnoxious, for some reason the angry blonde turns into the biggest joker when there are pretty girls around), your eyes sparkling in the dim, red-tinted light of the apartment. you’ve got your hood up over your head, and your smile is infectious in a way that makes his chest feel tight.

he tries to shake it off, but damn it, you’re pretty, and it’s only getting worse the longer he stands there, trying to be cool about it.

as if on cue, denki spots him across the room, waving him over like the over-enthusiastic piece of shit he is. “ayo- hanta, over here man."

hanta makes his way over to where denki and the others are, but his eyes keep flicking toward you. you notice him, and a little smile quirks up on your lips. his heart skips a beat.

“yo,” you say with a nod when he gets closer, that same lazy, sleepy tone from the other night, but this time, it’s mixed with an easy confidence that hanta can’t quite place. “so, you actually showed up.”

“uh, yeah,” hanta scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, already regretting how much he’s suddenly aware of your presence. “thought i’d make the trip out since... well, y'know, denks 'n mina insisted.”

you laugh, that same sound that makes his stomach flip. “yeah, he’s kind of like that.”

denki leans over your shoulder up at hanta, grinning like a maniac. “told you I was good for it, right? knew she'd be down to hang out.”

“yeah, you don't shut up either,” hanta mutters, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips because, damn it, denki makes a noise of offence and your eyes just twinkle at him.

hours later, hanta’s pretty sure he's had way too much to drink — not that he’s complaining. it’s the usual party chaos. kirishima’s in the middle of a heated game of flip cup with bakugou, mina’s in the corner making everyone laugh with a story about some dumb thing that happened at work, and denki’s doing whatever denki does when he’s had too much to drink: embarrassing himself by feeling up on evryone art the function.

but through it all, hanta keeps finding himself glancing at you.

you’re sitting on the couch now, chatting with mina, your legs tucked under you, looking so... effortlessly cool and at ease with the world. it’s honestly getting kind of ridiculous how much his brain is fixated on you.

denki, of course, notices this, the little shit. he sidles up next to hanta, clinking his bottle against his, and waggles his eyebrows. “yo, bro. what’s up w'th you and my girl?”

hanta nearly chokes on his drink. “what? your girl?”

“yeah, come on,” denki teases, clearly enjoying this way too much, entwining his free hand around hanta shoulders and slowly moving their bodies close to where you're sat . “i’m not blind. you’re totally into her.”

“no, i—” hanta stumbles over his words, trying to act nonchalant about it. “no, i’m not. i just—she’s cool, that’s all. and you set this up.”

denki’s grin widens into a full-on smirk bringing his face so close to hanta that their noses are practically touching before mock-whispering. “i told you she was your type, didn’t i?”

“you’re unbelievable,” hanta mutters, pushing his friends face away from his own with the palm of his hand, but he’s not even mad. he knows denki well enough to know he’s not wrong.

across the room, you catch hanta’s eye again, and this time, you wave him over with that easy, relaxed smile of yours. his heart stutters in his chest, and before he knows it, he’s making his way over, ignoring denki’s victorious little cackle from behind him.

the night goes on, the music getting louder, the drinks flowing a little too freely, and the crowd growing more chaotic by the minute. but hanta doesn’t care. because when you look at him again, when you laugh and pull him into a conversation about some random thing — about denki, the stupid party, everything — was definitely worth it.

[azrakaban]

I love the Smiths - Mattheo Riddle

A/N: It's short. I know. I'm just in shock. #4 in jkrowling?! HELLO? TYSM I LOVE YOU AAAALL

Summary: Mattheo finds a non depressing person who listens to the same depressing music as him

Music suggestions: Back to the old house (2011 remaster) - The Smiths, There Is A Light That Never Goes Out - The Smith

Warnings: Mentions of drug use (not Mattheo or reader), cursing, fluff

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT DO DRUGS. I never have and never intend to, all descriptions of the effects of weed are brought to you from compulsory PSHE lessons (That's all I'm basing it off of so may be inaccurate) :) 

Pronouns mentioned: The reader has she/her pronouns, but feel free to change it in ur mind, it's not plot relevant xxx

...

Mattheo's POV

Sometimes all you need at the end of the bad day is rain and a smiths vinyl.

And fortunately for a certain younger Riddle son, that's exactly what he had. Well, that and a pack of cigarettes. 

He lit one as he sat back against the cracking stone bricks of the tower walls, just as A There Is Light That Never Goes Out came on. He exhaled the smoke, feeling partially guilty about the health effects he'd been so dubiously warned about by the posters plastered across the school walls. 

It's not like professor sprout didn't mean well by growing medicinal cannabis for some students, it's just that some slightly more raucous Ravenclaws and Gryffindors saw it as a personal invitation to get high. 

Not Mattheo though - he didn't like the stuff, knew it fucked with your head in the worst way possible, so he steered clear of it. He stuck to depressing 80s music to keep him happy. Ironic really. 

He looked up at the stars, trying to spot patterns before drifting off into his mind. 

'Because it's not my home, it's their home

and I'm welcome no more...'

"I love the smiths." Came a voice from the doorway, and Mattheo spun sharply. "What?" He said quietly. 

"I said I love the smiths." Came the voice again, and this time it registered with him that it belonged to a gorgeous girl standing in the doorway.

He grinned, returning the nervous smile on your face. "Yeah?? Well, you've got good taste then." He said, taking a puff of his cig. You flicked it from his hand with a small smile. He looked up at you, confused. 

"Why-?" He said, raising an eyebrow. 

"I heard you complaining about it in transfiguration earlier. At least, I think it was you. Sounded like your voice. It was a deep voice, whining something like 'Theo I wanna quit but you keep putting them on my bedside so I caaaaaan't.'" You imitated him perfectly, and Mattheo laughed. 

"Yeah, sounds about right." He said, smirking to himself. 

You laughed with him. "I imagined you looking at him the way a toddler looks at you before asking if you have games on your phone." You admit, smiling as you sit beside him. 

Mattheo stifled a laugh. "Really? I think I was more looking at him like how a kid looks at their parent before they ask them to watch them do something really bad, like a backflip that turns into an A&E trip." He replied, trying to light another cigarette. You flicked that one off the tower. 

He nodded, mouthing a quick thanks. You laughed. "I'll take those." You stole the cigarettes from his pocket, leaning across Mattheo. Instinctually, he sniffed, smelling your shampoo. You pulled back, looking confused.

"Did you just sniff my hair?" You said, half laughing. He flushed. "It was right there! What was I gonna do? Smelt good though." He acknowledged. "Some kind of spice?" He guessed. 

"Cinnamon." You replied, smiling. He ah'ed in acknowledgement, before he looked up at the stars. You mirrored him. 

"Look. Taurus." You pointed up at a cluster of stars. Mattheo looked up, not seeing anything. "Is it really?" He replied, raising an eyebrow. You giggled. "No idea, but it could be. Why, did it make me seem smart?" You replied, looking over at him.

"Will you push me off of here if I say no?" He laughed. You gently pushed him. "Debating it. If I push you I can steal your vinyl and player." You smirked. 

"Ah, but without me, you'd have no-one to listen to them with." He gently shoved you back. 

You nodded, agreeing with him. "True that."

He smiled, and you sat in silence for a while, before he broke it. "So, what brings you up here at midnight?" He queried, looking at you with a strange expression. 

"Friends. They're driving me insane." You replied, laughing a little. He nodded with you. "Same here." He sighed. 

You looked at him. "What did yours do?" He laughed. 

"Nothing much... they have good intentions it's just..." He grimaced.  "They're trying to set me up with this girl I've never met. She sounds great it's just... I want to know someone before I ask them out, you know? God that sounds corny." He groaned, and your mouth quirked, eyes seeing the stars but not registering them.

"No, I agree. Blind dates are awkward." You shuddered. "Have much experience?" He teased. You shook your head, smiling. "I'm going off of several cheesy rom coms." You shrugged.

"A romance girl hmm?" He smirked. You shoved him. "Loud and proud, tease me all you want, at least my standards aren't the bare minimum." He looked surprised. "It's not a bad thing you know. In my cheesy romance movies, the romance book girls tend to be the best love interests." He shoved you back gently as you gasped. 

"You watch romance movies?" You said quietly. "Don't give me that look, Blaise's mum loved them and I spent summers with them. You learn to tolerate them." He chuckled. You smiled.

"Do you have a favourite?" He gave you a look. "Don't be ridiculous."

You gave him puppy eyes and he relented. "10 Things I hate About you." You smiled happily. "Good choice." 

And then something hit you. "Did you call me a love interest?" He looked confused. "What?" 

"You said the romance book girls are the best love interests are the romance book girls directly after i said it. Do you see me as a love interest, Mr Riddle?" You teased, and he flushed again. 

"You know who I am?" He said quietly. You nodded. "Then why for Salazar's sake are you still here?" He raised an eyebrow. 

"You didn't ask me to leave, so why would I go?" You looked confused. He shook his head. "If you know who I am you've probably heard the rumours about what I'm like. That I'm like... him." You got the implication. 

"Well, you haven't tried to kill me, and you've had plenty of opportunities to push me off the tower, so I'd say you're pretty good in my books." You smiled. He gave you a weak one, clearly still processing. 

"So, do you see me as a love interest?" You repeated, smiling as he blushed slightly again.

"Maybe I do." He murmured. You smiled. "You're cute when you blush." You kissed his cheek before you stood. "Where are you going?" He said, looking crestfallen.

"I prefer to get to know people before I cast them as my love interest." You replied, smiling. 

"See you in transfiguration." And with that, you made your dramatic exit. 

He smiled to himself as you left, and sat there for a few moments in contemplation. What in the fever dream?

...

Mattheo was just leaving charms as he saw a head of (y/h/c) hair leave the history of magic classroom. He looked closer, spotting your gorgeous eyes that he'd been lost in the previous night. And then, in horrifying mortification, he realised he didn't know your name. 

"HEY! SMITHS GIRL!" He yelled, pushing past people to catch up with you, you span around, smiling. 

"Hi." He said a little breathlessly, and you giggled. "We umm, only listened to Side A of my vinyl last night, you wanna do Side B tonight?" He asked, crossing his fingers in his robes. You nodded, smiling, as his friends caught up. 

"I'd love to. But i don't want to keep you from your friends. Hey Theo." You waved to the guy standing behind Mattheo. Mattheo froze as Theo smirked. "Hi n/n. Mattheo, this is the girl I was telling you about. Y/n, Mattheo, Mattheo, Y/n. Though it seems you two are already aquainted?" He raised an eyebrow. 

You flushed. "A little." You murmured. Mattheo nodded sheepishly. "See you tonight, Smiths Girl." He smirked. 

"I have a name!" You called as he left with his friends. "SEE YOU TONIGHT Y/N!" He yelled back, laughing. Theo smirked at him. 

"Don't."

...

Over the next few weeks, you two grew incredibly close. Yapping about people, buried trauma... everything and anything that came up under the moonlight. 

"I love the moon." You said after a particularly deep talk, which had Mattheo nearly on the verge of the tears for the first time in he couldn't remember how long. He turned to you, giving you a sad smile.

"Why's that?" He murmured, watching your features illuminated by the light. 

"It's known you your whole life, through every bad fringe, through every cringy Twilight era, and still loves you. It still doesn't go away, except during the day, which is when the sun watches you. You don't need it then. But as soon as you do, it's there. It only goes when it has to, not because it wants to." You said thoughtfully. Mattheo chuckled slightly.

"Sure you're not over personifying it there?" He whispered, gently nudging you. You shook your head. 

"Look at that and tell me you don't think it can feel." Mattheo looked. And this time he saw. 

He saw what you saw in the moon. He saw what it represented in you. And he decided in that moment, he would stay. He would be your moon, if you would be his sun. But how could he tell you that? He couldn't, god no. 

So he just let his hand inch closer to yours, getting close, so unbearably close and then moving away, like magnets. 

"Y/n?" He murmured. You turned to look at him. "Yeah?" You whispered. 

He swallowed the words he wanted to say, instead opting for something that wouldn't probably make you turn and run away from him. 

"Thank you for telling me about you. And thank you for hearing about me." He said, giving you a small smile. 

"Don't thank me for something I'd willingly do whenever." You replied, watching the stars, and Mattheo wasn't sure if something inside him healed or broke. 

"You'll be the death of me." He chuckled lowly. You smiled. 

"I'd rather be the life of you." You replied, giggling before standing and going to leave. He reacted on instinct, grabbing your hand and pulling you back. 

"Stay? Please." He murmured, pulling you back down. You let him pull you, and found yourself sat between his legs, back against his chest, watching the stars. 

Another song came on, and you smiled. "I love this one!" You said, and stood again. For a moment, Mattheo panicked, before you held out a hand for him. 

"Dance with me?" You whispered, eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Well, to Mattheo, your eyes sparkled all the time, but more under the starlight. 

He stood, smiling as he took your hand and fake bowed, wiggling his eyebrows as he gently rested his hands on your hips, pulling you a little closer. 

You smiled, dancing  in silence for a while before he spoke. "It's a little cold." He said, and you nodded, shivering a little. "Mhm." You said. Damn, you should have brought a jumper. He noticed you shivering. "Come here, y/n." He murmured, outstretching his arms for you. 

You hesitated, and he worried that he'd pushed you too far, before you conceded, moving into his arms. He rested his chin on your head, happy to be a source of warmth if it kept you happy. You snuggled into him and Mattheo physically felt his heart ache, like it wanted out of his chest and into yours. 

"Honestly, fuck you." He said, groaning. You looked up, seeming surprised. "What?" 

"You come up here, where I was fine alone, and share all these things, and  that make me share things that I haven't told anyone before, and what's fucking more, you don't make me feel bad about it, you help me, and suddenly I'm not fine alone, and I need you."

"And I don't like needing people, it just gets you hurt, but you're not like other people, and I'm okay with needing you, because everytime I see you, you heal some tiny part of me, and fuck you because I am so hopelessly, desperately, in love with you." He said, walking back and forth infront of you as you tried to process. 

"I'm sorry." You whispered, smiling. He groaned. "And now you're apologising for it, and you look so fucking pretty and all I can think about it how much I want to kiss you." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair, damp from the rain, and a raindrop fell down his face like a tear. 

"You should. Kiss me I mean. I'd like that." You whispered, and you were barely through with your sentence before his lips were on yours, and you were kissing him, and his one of his hands was cupping your face and another one held your waist.

Mattheo kissed like a man starved, but oh god was it amazing. He kissed you, because you were his oxygen, his everything. 

When he finally broke apart from you, he grinned, then laughed softly, and so did you. 

"Merlin, I love The Smiths." He exhaled, still laughing quietly. You giggled. "Me too. But they share my heart with this one guy, can't think who." 

He laughed at that too. "Can't imagine who you'd be talking about." 

You smiled. "Yeah, it's this stranger I met on the astronomy tower, who likes the same music as me, and is super nice when you get to know him, and who i think loves me too. Oh, and he's also really cute." You added as an afterthought. 

"He's definitely in love with you, given he's usually a little shit to everyone else, including his best friends. OH SHIT. Theo. He's going to be so smug. We CANNOT tell him. I'm begging you." Mattheo fell to his knees, pleading with you in  mocking way. 

"Tell him what?" You smiled innocently, and Mattheo rolled his eyes. 

"That I am yours, Y/N, if you want me, and you are mine if you want that." He replied. 

You nodded. "I want that."

Mattheo kissed you at that, and before you left the astronomy tower, and before he said goodnight to you.

...

The next day, Mattheo saw you outside his charms class, and you shot him a smile. He gave up at that, walking over and giving you a short kiss, smiling into it when you kissed back before the two of you pulled apart. 

"What happened to staying secret?" You murmured, giggling at the surprised expressions of your friends and the surrounding students. He shrugged. "I love my smiths girl." There was a cough behind you, and you turned to see Theo smirking. 

"HA." Theo coughed loudly, his smirk growing more cocky by the second. 

"DON'T." Mattheo glared. 

"Okay, I won't, jeez." Theo put his hands up in mock surrender. 

Mattheo relaxed. 

"Just call me cupid." 

"SON OF A-"

A/N: WOAH. Azra uploaded twice within a month, is she okay? NO GUYS. I have a new crush. YIPPEE. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this crack fic and didn't cringe too much reading it. xxxx

REQUESTS STILL OPEN FOR ALL CHARACTERS <333

K THX BYEEEE

[kaahgyuya]

saving u . ! (FLUFF)

. synopsis ; you get hurt, so kinich saves you.

. warnings/notes ; g!n reader, kinich might be a little and or completely ooc, forgive me.. 😓 he's kinda nonchalant, and no ajaw for this oneshot, and mention of being exposed to drug substance? (oneshot with plot), and reader in this might not be a liking for you! (Reqs are open, so feel free to recommend some stuff of your own!)

REQS. are open!!! (Open until 10/3)

You were always out in the wilderness going out and taking commissions one from another. Whether it'd be fighting, or simply delivering something, you'd always get it done in time.

All of the customers/clients you'd take commissions from, would always have something nice to say about you. That you were always a sweetheart and kindhearted.

Sometimes, your kindness would get you blind, and for this commission you took on, you didn't notice a single thing.

"Ah, isn't that Y/N?" You were passing by Kinich's tribe looking for him until someone called out for you.

"Hm? Hello! What is it that you need?" You turned to them. A slightly older man, maybe up to his 60s or 70s went up to you.

"you take on commissions, don't you?" The old man asked.

"Yes, I do! Is there anything I need to do for you?" You replied in a cheerful like tone.

"Ah, would you mind getting rid of some dangerous foes around the area? It's been bothering me and some of the fellow tribe people." The old man said.

"Uh huh, but first I have to know about the details about this commission, did you put it up on the adventures guild board or anything like that?" You asked.

"I did, but nobody took on the commission so I took it down." The old man looked sad, and you felt bad for him.

"Don't worry, sir! If you give me the details of the commission, then I'll be sure to get it done." You said in a reassuring tone.

"But before that, what's your name?"

"It's Junan." He replied.

"Don't worry Junan, if you have the commission details with you, I'll be able to get it done."

"Yes, yes, I have the paper details." Junan gave you some old paper that had a few rips and tears, and the paper looked quite old.

Some ruin guards and ruin hunters were around the area, that's not good, people can get hurt!

"I see... do you have a payment?"

"Unfortunately no, it was given to me by Kinich."

'Kinich? Huh that's kind of odd. Why would he give out a commission like this?'

"Kinich huh, alright. Do you have the location?"

"It's nearby the entrance, go a little to the left and then go straight. My memory is slowly getting worse by the years. Haha." The old man laughed.

"It's alright sir, well then, I'll take off."

"Thank you, Y/n." He waved goodbye to you and you walked off.

"Why would Kinich give out a commission like that?.. Something doesn't seem right."

"Whatever, maybe he was just too lazy to deal with it?"

You arrive at the place, surprisingly, there's no ruin guards or monsters anywhere. But since there's none, you get a little suspicious.

"I'll just take a quick look around just in case.." you look around the area, getting distracted by the beautiful view around you.

You then wince, something doesn't seem right.

Some horrible smell comes from somewhere, you don't wanna go near it.

You block your nose and mouth and slowly back away.

You then turn behind you to find yourself...

Being ambushed.

A couple of guys suddenly grab your arm and then say something, but that horrible smell/substance made you feel light headed making you feel really weak.

You suddenly see a silhouette that scoops you up before falling to the ground, you feel a gush of air as if you're flying.

You feel so tired that you suddenly...

"Huh?.. where am I?" You looked around you to notice you weren't at the place where you got ambushed, but under some tent.

"You're awake, you were ambushed by some people." You look over to where the voice came, and it was Kinich. He had some bandages with him and a wet towel.

"Owie, that stings." You whined.

"They hurt you pretty badly." You couldn't help but look at his face, and he looks a little guilty.

"I had took on some commission from someone, and they said that—"

"I know." Kinich cut you off.

"Huh? How?"

"I just do." Kinich says, while patching up your wounds. He totally wasn't stalking you when you were taking that suspicious commission from that guy.

"That commission wasn't from me, besides that issue was resolved a long time ago, it was just used to ambush you, or even kill you." Kinich said in a stern tone.

"I had already dealed with the guys so you're fine to rest here. Take as long you need to recover." He added.

You slowly sat up, while wincing at the pain.

"You know, I could've taken care of my wounds even if I did get ambushed." You said while looking over at him.

"Yeah, but there was this drug or substance that would make you pass out and or weak. You could've died."

"But you didn't have to take care of me like this."

"I'm just repaying the price, am I not?"

"For what? The commission I finished for you ages ago?"

"I guess so," kinich said.

You sighed as his hands gently lingered over your arms and body, making sure he patched them right.

"You're doing alright, right? Do you need water?" He asked. Even though his tone wasn't full of emotion, his eyes showed it.

"I'm doing.. fine. My body just hurts all over the place right now." You awkwardly looked away.

"You really didn't have to patch me up, though. Don't you already have stuff to do?" You added.

"I finished my stuff eariler today, so I'm free." Kinich looked up at you.

"Kinich, you know, you really didn't have to. You've already done so much stuff for me, and I don't know how to pay you back."

"It's fine, maybe think of a payment you can pay me back with."

"But you always say that and then just don't care about it after."

"That's because I really don't. For you, I'd do it for free. No need to pay me." He was still kneeled by you, as he looked at your wounds again.

"But really, you didn't have to patch me up, I could've done it myself." You felt pity.

"Sure, I didn't have to patch you up, but I needed to."

"Needed to? Did you mean want to?"

"No, I needed to."

@kaahgyuya 9/29/24 10:10 pm

a/n; lazy writing today, might post smt tmrw if I have my creative juices flowing!! Otherwise I hope you enjoyed this >_<

[allmoshnobrain]

𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖍𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

dean winchester x hunter!reader | word count: 1,7k | requests are open! send yours here

“Sam died, sweetheart,” he whispered, and your heart clenched at his words. Why did he have to call you that right now? “And I made a deal to bring him back. I had to.” “This isn’t funny,” you said, your voice trembling. “Dean, you can’t be serious.” “I’m serious,” he replied, his tone firm. “I wouldn’t lie. Not about this.”

✦ on this fic: dean winchester x reader, fem!reader but this part is pretty neutral, angst, s3 spn plot

✦ a/n: this is my first time writing a reader insert for the supernatural universe. this is super angsty, and other parts to this au may come in the future so feel free to shoot me an ask if you have any suggestions! hope u enjoy the read 🖤

Word travels fast in a hunter’s world.

In a job where information is everything, sharing what you know wasn’t just helpful, but also expected. So, when the Devil’s Gate opened and demons started pouring out everywhere, it didn’t take long before you heard about it. It didn’t come as a surprise when you heard Sam and Dean Winchester had been there when it happened, right in the middle of it. You knew the boys; you knew they had a knack for getting mixed up in every kind of mess that popped up, ever.

What did surprise you, though, was Dean showing up on your doorstep less than a month later.

You knew something was off the second you saw him. First, because he was alone, and honestly, you couldn’t remember ever seeing him without Sam around. But mostly, it was the look in his eyes. As soon as you opened the door, he smiled at you, but his eyes didn’t follow — there was a storm brewing in his green irises, one even he didn’t seem to notice.

“Dean,” you said, frowning as he stood in your doorway. “How did you…”

“Bobby told me,” he cut you off, like it was no big deal, not even waiting for you to finish asking how the hell did he know where you lived. Of course, Bobby had. You sighed — would’ve been nice if Bobby gave you a heads-up, but whatever. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah, but… what’s going on?” you asked, stepping aside to let him into your little cabin. It wasn’t much — pretty small, tucked away from the town, and didn’t look like anything special from the outside. Inside, though, was another story. Your eyes flicked up to the devil’s trap right above the door, and you felt a wave of relief when Dean walked right under it. Okay, not possessed. That’s a start.

“Can’t I just pay a visit to an old friend?” he asked, and you raised an eyebrow. Sure, you’d crossed paths with Dean more than a few times — occupational hazard of being a hunter — but something about this felt off. It wasn’t like him to just show up without a reason, especially with everything that had gone down in the past few weeks.

“Dean, what’s wrong?” you pressed, not letting him off the hook. His smile faltered, quickly replaced by that familiar annoyed look he got when he didn’t want to talk about whatever was actually on his mind.

“Why does something have to be wrong?”

You rolled your eyes. “Because you never just drop by for no reason. Where’s Sam?”

“Not here,” he muttered, and you couldn’t help but scoff. “Look, I’m fine. Everything's fine.  Bobby just figured you’d wanna know what went down with the Colt and yellow-eyes…”

“I’ve got a phone,” you cut in, crossing your arms. 

Dean sighed, his usual swagger faltering for a second as he cleared his throat, almost like he was nervous. “And… maybe he also thought I could use some time away from hunting, just for a bit, you know? With someone I… I liked being around.”

He couldn’t even look at you when he said it, a slight blush creeping up his neck. It wasn’t the Dean you were used to seeing, and that made your heart skip in a way you weren’t entirely prepared for.

You blinked in surprise. Dean, shy? Around you, of all people? That was rare. You’d seen him flirt before — hell, he was good at it and he knew it. This wasn’t the Dean you were used to, but then again, he wasn’t exactly acting like his usual self today.

“You’re not a shapeshifter, are you?” you asked, slowly. He huffed.

“No, I’m not.”

“Mind if I check?” You grabbed the knife you always kept strapped to your thigh. Dean just shrugged, holding his hand out. You took it, his skin warm under your fingers, and pressed the iron blade against it until it drew blood. No reaction, a small twitch in his arm muscles the only sign he’d felt anything. 

“See?” he said, his voice a little rough. “Not a shapeshifter, not a demon, just good ol’ me.”

Alright then. As weird as it was, it looked like Dean Winchester had really shown up at your place just to… hang out? You glanced up at him, wiping your knife off on your jeans before sliding it back into its sheath.

“Sorry about that,” you muttered. “Come on, let me patch you up.”

“So,” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow as you finished wrapping the bandage around his hand. “What’ve you been up to? Working any cases?”

“Why do you wanna know? Weren’t you supposed to be taking a break from hunting for a few days?” you shot back, and he chuckled. You glanced up at him. “You know I don’t hunt as much as you guys. I mostly just keep an eye on this area. But it’s been pretty quiet lately.”

“Yeah, well, you take care of yourself, alright? Lots of demons running around lately,” he said. “If you ever need backup, just call me.”

“Thanks,” you replied quietly. “I haven’t been up to much other than keeping an eye on things. Honestly, I was worried about you guys. Heard you were at the Devil’s Gate when everything went down.”

“We were trying to stop it,” Dean said, and you nodded.

“I figured as much. But…” You hesitated. “That’s not exactly what everyone’s saying.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, frowning a bit as he flexed his hand, checking how well he could move it with your bandages. “Who’s everyone?”

“The other hunters,” you said. “They’re saying Sam… and you… you guys made the whole thing happen.”

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes and running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“And did you believe that bullshit?”

“I didn’t! Just… Please be careful out there, alright? Not all hunters are as friendly right now.” He looked at you for a moment, then let out a sigh and nodded. You hesitated. “Do you, uh, wanna hit up a bar or something? I mean, I’m not exactly living the most exciting life out here…”

“You got a TV and some beers?” he asked, catching you off guard. You blinked a few times before nodding. “Sweet. That’s all I need today. We could watch a movie or something, maybe order in.”

“I can cook,” you chimed in. “I’ve got a wood-burning oven outside... we could make homemade pizza.”

The way he looked at you, it was like you’d just revealed you had the keys to Heaven itself.

You finally figured out what was up much later in the night, while you and Dean were sprawled out in your queen bed.

At first, he had tried to be a gentleman and insisted on crashing on the couch, but you wouldn’t have it — the bed was more than big enough for both of you. No point in him getting a stiff neck just because he wanted to play nice. Sure, you were practical, but you also just wanted him to be comfortable. You could sense something was off with him, even if he kept saying he was fine.

So there you were, cozy and ready to sleep, lights out and moonlight streaming through the curtains, lying on your side and facing the wall as you listened to his deep breathing. You were almost drifting off yourself when he said it.

“I made a deal.”

You opened your eyes right away, twisting in bed to find his face just inches from yours. Your heart raced at the vulnerability in his gaze — the angst he’d tried to keep hidden was now clear as day. It made your heart sink and your breath hitch a little.

“What?” you asked, concern creeping into your voice. Dean closed his eyes for a second, letting out a small sigh.

“Sam died, sweetheart,” he whispered, and your heart clenched at his words. Why did he have to call you that right now? “And I made a deal to bring him back. I had to.”

“This isn’t funny,” you said, your voice trembling. “Dean, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m serious,” he replied, his tone firm. “I wouldn’t lie. Not about this.”

You didn’t answer, just buried your face in your hands, struggling to catch your breath as tears started to well up in your eyes. The reaction shocked you — why did you care about him so much? How could you be terrified of losing him when you were just… what? Occasional hunting partners? Friends?

But he was right there with you, wasn’t he?

Was this why he had come to you?

“I wanted to tell you myself,” he said softly, as if he could read your mind. “I… I wanted to see you. One last time, at least.”

One last time. His words bounced around in your head, and you lowered your hands to face him, confusion scrunching your brow. That didn’t make sense. Demons usually gave you ten years after a deal, so why…?

“Dean,” you said slowly. “How long… how long did they give you?”

“A year,” he whispered, so quietly you almost missed it. “They gave me a year.”

“No,” you said, covering your mouth with one hand as the sobs started to spill out. “Oh, no, Dean, no, no, no…”

He pulled you close, wrapping you tight against his chest as you cried, your arms instinctively clinging to him. Incoherent words tumbled out — trying to apologize for crying, for feeling like a hole had been carved out of your chest. It didn’t feel right — you weren’t the one who was supposed to be feeling this way.

Because you weren’t the one dying.

You cried yourself to sleep in his arms that night. As your sobs faded into tired breaths and your eyes finally closed, Dean felt a sharp ache in his chest while watching your swollen eyes and damp cheeks.

He couldn’t deal with the whirlwind of feelings churning inside him right now. He couldn’t face the regret, the fear, not even that nameless feeling he had for you — because he was too scared to name it, to even acknowledge it was real. All he knew was that he had lied; Bobby hadn’t sent him to you. Things weren’t fine, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

He had come to you of his own choice.

Because when his world was crumbling, he knew you were the only one who could help him pick up the pieces.

Even when everything felt hopeless.

Even when he felt completely lost.

[writtnbyhan]

Let me take care of you.

PAIRING: han jisung x reader

TAGS: sickfic, idol!han, established relationship.

WORD COUNT: 1927

PROMPT: "and just when were you going to tell me about your [injury/illness]?" You're sick and Jisung is worried -- That's the plot.

warnings: mentions of being sick (reader has a cold). Let me know if I missed a warning.

author's note: i don't know where this came from. I had something very different planned for today's post but this came to me in a vision and now i can only think of jisung taking care of his s/o, he's so baby and he's probably so good at taking care of people !!!!! i just wanna be in between his arms !! being cared for !!!

Okay, here’s the thing: you knew you were getting kinda sick. You knew from the way your body ached when you first woke up, from the sore throat and from the general feeling of being unwell. However, you decided it was not a big deal, and that was obviously your first mistake.

It was Jisung’s kind-of-free day, which meant he only had to go to the studio with 3RACHA to work on “some stuff”, as he put it himself, refusing to elaborate claiming that it was a surprise. You knew they were probably working on music for the next comeback even when this one wasn’t even out yet, and that’s why Jisung wouldn’t come clean, wanting to avoid your reprimanding from overworking themselves when they finally have some free time from the studio, only having to comply with the schedules related to the comeback.

On these days, he was usually only busy for a few hours before they got distracted with something random and therefore decided to call it quits, going home and relaxing for a few hours before moving onto the next scheduled activity. Today, Jisung didn’t have any of those, only going to the studio and then straight back home. You didn’t want to ruin what little time together you were getting these days, and you weren’t actually sick yet, so it wasn’t anything you should worry about.

You woke up alone, the other side of the bed unmade from when Hanji woke up, earlier, and went to the gym before the studio. He spent most nights with you, cuddling to make up for the time you weren’t capable of being together due to busy schedules and responsibilities. Everything ached, and the only thing you wanted to do was cover yourself with the sheets and sleep some more. But, you couldn’t do that. You needed to take a shower, clean up a bit, and force yourself to feel better. “Just for today, tomorrow we can be sick,” you told your body as you got out of bed, frowning and closing your eyes when the light coming through the window was quick to cause you a headache.

Shower first, you decided, going for the warm water and hoping it’d help with the pain on your body. It did, luckily. You then brushed your teeth, noticing on the mirror that the bags under your eyes were darker and more noticeable. Yes, you were obviously getting sick. Tomorrow. You were getting sick tomorrow, because today you had to spend the day with Jisung and cuddle with him watching Ghibli movies, it was a need.

After breakfast, you took some ibuprofen and sent Jisung a quick text.

“good morning, baby. hope everything’s going well at the studio, missing you already :)”

Putting your phone down after that, you set out to clean up the apartment, taking more ibuprofen whenever your body was being inconvenient to you.

“hello cutie, we’re actually wrapping up for the day!! going home in 30, love you.” You read the text when ten minutes had already passed since it was received. With a smile on your face, you sent a quick reply, knowing it wasn’t necessary given that he was already coming home, but also knowing that he would sulk if you didn’t reply to his “love you”.

“love you too<3 will be waiting with the popcorn ready.”

Making good on your promise, you started making popcorn and conditioning the living room for

Making good on your promise, you started making popcorn and setting up the living room for your movie plans, bringing all the blankets you could find (which was not actually necessary, but you were starting to feel cold so you thought it’d be better to have those around) and the pillows from your bed.

As you were placing the popcorn on the table with some juice, the door opened, and in came the squirrel-looking boy that was able to put a smile on your face instantaneously, even when you were feeling so ill.

“Hello, my love!” you said, dramatically, bringing a hand to your own chest as if to hold your heart. “I thought you’d never make it, I was left missing you for too long!”

He smiled with that heart-shaped smile that made your heart do spins. You felt dizzy just by looking at him (okay, maybe that was the cold you probably had, but you decided to convince yourself it was Jisung’s fault). “My lady, I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, shall we begin with our plans?”

You giggled, skipping towards him to give him a kiss on the cheek and drag him to the couch that was currently surrounded by blankets. You chose one and threw it over both of you, getting comfortable in between your boyfriend’s arms with the remote in hand.

Halfway through the first Ghibli movie of the night, you began sneezing.

“’m sorry” you mumbled, getting up to grab some tissues and noticing you felt much more sick than in the morning.

You should tell Jisung, you knew that. But he’d worry, and you didn’t want to cut your night together short.

So, you didn’t. You grabbed the tissues and got back into his arms, kissing his hands when they were in front of you. Jisung freezed when you did that, and you frowned — it was a common gesture between the two of you, why was he reacting like that?

His hand went quickly to your forehead.

Oh, that.

Jisung gasped.

“Baby, you’re burning up.”

He sounded worried, and you sighed.

“I know.” You said. You didn’t actually know you had a fever, but you didn’t want him to make a fuss. You wanted to watch movies together, and cuddle, and sleep. And okay, maybe you had a headache and that had made you grumpy, which was something that always happened when you were sick so Jisung was used by now to your complaints about his caring.

However, despite knowing you always reacted badly to feeling unwell, that comment had made him frown, looking at you while his hand was still on your forehead.

“You knew?” he repeated, clearly agravated by what you had just told him. “And when exactly were you planning on telling me? When you collapsed in the hallway or while I was being forced to bring you to the hospital?”

He was being dramatic, of course, but the sincerity in his worry and his concern made your heart soften a little, so you directed your eyes to the floor, blinking to try and ease the headache that had formed from looking at the screen for too long.

“I didn’t wanna worry you” you mumbled, voice soft and shy. He melted a little at that, his anger dissapearing almost as quick as it had made his way forth.

“Baby, you need someone to take care of you when you’re feeling like this. We could’ve just cuddled in bed so you were more comfortable, and I could’ve been checking on your temperature and your medicine. What hurts?” he asked, giving a little kiss to your forehead before letting his hold around you loosen, clearly having plans of getting up.

You whined at the lost of his warmth against your back, your eyes filling up with unwanted tears at the cold and the loneliness you suddenly felt.

“Hannie…” you cried out, looking up at him, who looked almost bewildered. When he met your eyes, a pout formed in his face. He extended his arms towards you, now standing in front of the couch, and hugged you so you could attach yourself to him like a koala would to a tree. Your hold was weak, so he made sure to keep you safe with one hand on your back while he wrapped a blanket around you as if you were a baby. You knew the plan was to get you to your shared bed so you could cuddle more comfortably and drift off to sleep when you needed it. Problem was: you had needed it for about 15 minutes by now, so hiding your face in his neck and letting his warmth envelop you, you were quick to fall asleep against him, not minding his movements or the sounds around you.

You woke up when it was already dark outside. A wet cloth was on your forehead and you were now in bed, your boyfriend’s hand on your waist and Ponyo playing in the background. You looked to your bedside table and found a water bottle and some pills that you knew you didn’t have in your house. You knew Jisung never wanted to leave your side when you were sick, no matter that you were asleep, so you were sure he had those delivered or asked one of the boys to pick them up for him.

You turned around, letting the wet cloth fall off so as to hide your face in his chest. You felt better after sleeping, and you were sure your fever had subsided because you no longer felt cold, but your throat was still sore and your eyes still stung with the light.

At your movement, Han directed all his attention towards you, kissing your forehead and tightening his hold on your waist.

“Hello, sleepyhead. You need to take some medicine, I asked Chan-hyung to bring it here because all you had was some ibuprofen, and you were running out of it. How are you feeling?” he asked, his free hand caressing your hair and making you feel a lot more relaxed, even when your back still ached and your throat hurt.

“I’m okay,” you settled for, your voice coming out raspy and probably revealing what you were hiding. He chuckled, and you knew he knew what you just said was a lie, so you sighed. “I’m feeling a lot better, but my throat still hurts and my body aches. It’s probably just a cold.” You mumbled the last part against his chest, a subtle way of saying: there’s no need to worry this much.

He nodded, which you knew because you felt his head moving above yours. “Probably. Please, take some medicine so you can feel better faster.”

You did as he asked, taking the pill he was offering you and drinking from the water bottle he had uncapped and handed to you. You smiled at him in thanks, after wincing from the bitter taste of the pill.

“Sorry for ruining or movie date.” Your eyes were sad and he knew you were sincerely sorry. A pout formed on your lips as you thought of when you would be able to have the next one, knowing it’d be difficult to plan out given that the comeback was so close.

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby,” he said, equally as sincere. “It’s not your fault you got sick, and I don’t mind taking care of you — I really like it, actually. Plus, I got to watch the movies while watching you sleep, so… I really don’t mind. I just want you to be okay so we can have more movie dates.”

You blushed at his words, feeling soft and just wanting to kiss him — you both knew you should not do that, for he couldn’t get sick now because he had a lot of presentations and performances to do. You pouted.

“This is so unfair, I want to kiss you so badly,” you complained, and he laughed, kissing your cheek.

“I know, baby, me too. So, take your medicine so I can get all the kisses you owe me.”

[starrayblogs]

chai? i love chai!

a/n: i love pavitr, he's so silly and i wanna be best friends with him ..... so here i am- writing a short story because my brain is literally being occupied by him, and i'd like to share it with you. enjoy!

another a/n: i haven't actually watched the movie yet! it hasn't released where i am D:, but i have been so hyped for the movie i just can't wait to watch it! sooo, sorry if there are any plot mistakes!

pavitr prabhakar + gn!reader

you're a spiderperson! hoorah! feel free to imagine yourself as your spidersona ü

"i love chai tea!"

"what did you just say? chai means tea, bro! you're saying tea tea, would i ask you for a coffee coffee with room for cream cream?"

"no. no, i'm sorry."

giggles bubble up from your throat as you fail to keep yourself from bursting into full-blown laughter at miles. "this is not funny." miles points a finger at you, who is currently bent at the knees with arms wrapped around the torso while laughing.

after a few more seconds, you rise up straight and fan your face as you try to stop from laughing. "aw, man, that shouldn't have made me laugh so hard." you say in between breaths of composure.

"chai tea isn't funny!" pavitr exclaims, crossing his arms.

"oh no, of course it isn't. miles's reaction was." you snicker a bit as you glance to miles, who gave you a glare. "but, on the topic of chai, i love karak chai." the lenses on your mask curve at the bottom to show some sort of smile, with your masked eyes.

"what did you just say?" pavitr's lenses widen as his arms unfold. "did you just say karak chai? you know your chai!?" he gasps, coming up to you with a hand over where his mouth would be.

"yeah! i love chai!" your eyes grin as your shoulders rise a little.

"gwen, i can't believe you've brought such a nice, new guy!" he turns to give gwen a surprised look before he turns back to you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "tell me, new guy," you cut him off to say your name, which he says and resumes. "how did you come across karak chai? are you indian too?" he asks curiously.

"no, actually, but i did grow up with some indian cuisine around me!" you reply with as much excitement as him. he lets out an 'oooohh' as his lenses grin at you. "i like you, new guy!"

"oh come on, what about me?" miles interjects and gwen lets out a laugh that she quickly covers up by clearing her throat.

"you said chai tea." pavitr pulls away from your shoulders to point at miles.

"i said sorry!"

you laugh again, this time recovering faster when pavitr turns to face to you. "tell me," he says your name with a cheerful look in his masked eyes. "do you also like naan?"

"oh, obviously, but..." you hesitate by squinting your lenses a bit, which makes the spiderman in front of you tilt his head. "i'm more of a paratha person." you admit sheepishly.

pavitr gasps as his lenses widen again. he stares at you for a few seconds, which makes you nervous because you think you've said something to upset him. "i have never met another spiderman that knows about indian food..." he mumbles, but there was a bit of a surprised tone in his voice. "i just know we are going to be great friends!" he exclaims, moving over to give you a side hug.

your eyes widen a bit, but you grin. you happily hang your hand over his shoulder, just like he did with yours.

"you should totally try some indian food here when you get the chance. i know all the great places!" he offers, tilting his head to you. your lenses curve underneath at his offer.

"i'd love that, oh my gosh. now that i think of it, i kind of do miss the food." you chuckle, a hand coming up to pat your stomach absentmindedly.

"we should totally eat out together whenever you're here!" he says, his eyes and tone filled with joy which brings a smile to your eyes and lips underneath the mask.

"that sounds like a fun time." miles adds himself in, which makes pavitr's head turn away from you to reply.

"hmm... maybe it will do you so good too, teach you how to not make mistakes like chai tea again." he says, and miles lenses widen as his demeanor immediately brightens.

"awesome! can we get naan bread?" miles asks, which receives a not-so-happy reaction from the indian spiderman.

"what did you just say!?"

pavitr pulls himself off your shoulder to point and scold at miles again. you and gwen glance at each other before bursting into laughter together, watching as miles does his best to apologize.

[poebot]

Carnal (nsfw) | Ellie Williams

summary: “Ellie grabs your hips and ruts against you, as if she can feel the press of your body through her jeans. “Gonna fuck you so good.” She promises, revelling in the way her words make you gasp.”

tags: Dom!Ellie, over stimulation, cunnilingus, praise, fingering

warnings: this is pure unadulterated filth, no plot to speak of.

words: 0.9k

Ellie trails hot kisses down your neck, desperate and feverish in her actions as her strong hands grip your hips and pull your body in close. She ruts against you as if she can feel the press of your body through her jeans. “Gonna fuck you so good.” She promises, revelling in the way her words make you gasp. Her lips press from your shoulders all the way down to your stomach and hips, lingering just above where your skirt’s been hiked up until she finally drops to her knees in front of you. Your lips part in a silent sigh as your chest heaves up and down, and she stares up at you from beneath her dark lashes, pleading. “Can I take these off, princess?” Her fingers are already hooked into the band of your underwear and she knows from the obvious wet spot you’ve leaked into them that you’re far from refusing, but she still waits for you to nod before pulling them down.

“Look at you, so wet for me.” She murmurs, watching closely as your slick connects to the fabric. You whimper, screwing your eyes closed in anticipation and embarrassment at her praise. She chuckles softly, finding your shyness adorable as her lips kiss tenderly over your folds. “Cmon, Els…” Your voice comes out high and distorted, “Don’t tease me..” She stares at you again, her expression amused as she tilts her head at you. “You can do better than that. Tell me what you want, baby.” Ellie keeps up her composure but her forehead beads with sweat at the restraint it takes not to devour you. She can smell your arousal already and it makes her bite her lip absentmindedly.

You swallow hard, the words feeling stuck in your throat. The sight of her between your legs holding eye contact makes you lose your breath as you rock mindlessly into nothing, desperate for friction. She grabs your hips, forcing them against the wall behind you as her lip quirks up in a dark smirk. “Poor thing, so needy. You wanna cum, yeah?” You hum in acknowledgment. “Then be a good girl and do what I say.” You whimper in frustration. “Please, Ellie. Please make me feel good. Need you so bad.” You breathily beg, hoping it’s enough to satisfy her.

“That’s what I like to hear.” Ellie full on grins before throwing one of your legs over her broad shoulder. Her tongue licks a wide flat stripe over your folds as she finally tastes you and immediately groans out “Fuck, you taste good.” She doesn’t give you a chance to reply before shoving her face back in, swirling the tip of her tongue around your entrance and back up before sucking softly at your clit. Your head slams back against the wall as you let out a choked sound, your hands flexing and reaching out aimlessly for something to ground yourself from the sensation.

Ellie watches your expression intently as your eyebrows scrunch and your mouth gapes open, and she grabs your twitching hands with her own, placing one on her head and the other onto her free shoulder. All the while her mouth continues to work against you with pointed intention, making a sloppy mess of your pussy. Her fingers snake up your body to pull up the hood of your clit as she suctions her lips against the now exposed bundle of nerves, and you rock your hips against her face, crying out a series of “Fuck fuck fuck-“s and mindless babbles of her name.

You feel pressure building in the pits of your stomach as your fingers begin tugging on Ellie bun and her voice comes out as a rumble from deep within her throat, drunk off of the taste of you. She parts from your pussy within a final slurp of your leaking juices, ignoring your whines of protest as she slips two fingers past her pink lips. Ellie holds eye contact as she sucks on them, her tongue swirling around the digits before she presses them with no resistance into your dripping slit. “That’s right, baby. You’re taking it so well.” She coos, her sickly sweet voice condescending as her fingers offer a relentless pace inside of you. Her other hand slaps gently against your puffy lips as she laughs at the way you cry out, overstimulated and flushed. “E-Ellie! Gonna cum, fuck please-“ Your voice is beyond pornographic as you bounce desperately onto her fingers, pushing your crotch against her.

“Fuck yes. Cum on my fingers. Make a mess for me.” Ellie groans, curling her long fingers inside your walls as her thumb reaches up to rub fast circles against your throbbing clit. Her own briefs are soaked watching you lose your mind, all because of her. Your hands grip your hair as you throw your head back, cumming hard all over her fingers. Ellie whispers praises to you as she continues working herself in and out of you gently, coaching you through the waves of your orgasm. Your ears ring, barely registering her words. She finally pulls out when you push against her shoulder, over sensitive and seeing stars.

“God, you’re perfect. So beautiful.” She chuckles, swiping your sweat soaked hair out of your eyes as she presses your foreheads together. You both catch your breath together. “Next time, I wanna really fuck you.” Ellie whispers against your ear, kissing your temple. A desperate shiver runs down your spine. “You can take my strap, right?”

[writingxfootballl]

i wanna be the one (that makes your day) (jessie fleming x ucla!reader)

the part two to i'll be your biggest fan (and you'll be mine)

word count: 1407 ish

rating: F for fluffy

title- best friend by rex orange county

a/n: again, unedited. part of my fic dump. not guaranteed spelling errors and plot hole free

----

it’s been exactly one month since you left california for oxford.

and in that month, you’ve felt the full weight of the transition.

the chill of the english weather, the constant rush of new information, and the distinct absence of a certain messy-haired canadian soccer player.

you’d been so determined to focus on your studies, on the prestigious rhodes scholarship that had brought you here, that the thought of jessie—of her—had taken a backseat.

but that didn’t mean she was far from your mind. because she wasn’t.

she never really was.

it’s just that, here, in oxford, it felt… different.

the landscape was so vast, so old, the buildings so steeped in history. everything felt so distant, so foreign.

it wasn’t the kind of place where a casual coffee date or library study sessions felt possible.

but that didn’t stop you from wondering if you might see her again.

and then, one crisp morning, while you were walking across radcliffe square, there she was.

jessie fleming, on a freaking london bus, looking effortlessly beautiful in a puffer jacket and jeans.

you freeze in place, breath hitching, your heart skipping.

you hadn’t expected to see her in england, let alone in oxford, and definitely not in this exact moment.

the last time you saw her, she was standing on the bleachers in sunny california, asking you out on a date.

you had kissed her. it was perfect.

and then she had flown back to london for her training with chelsea.

you still have the little text you sent her: "thinking of you. hope practice is going well. "

it was cute. she replied with something equally sweet.

and then you both agreed that you’d keep in touch.

you hadn’t realized how much you'd missed her until this very moment.

you panic for a second, unsure what to do.

should you wave?

run over?

act cool and pretend you weren’t feeling a little lightheaded?

before you can decide, jessie’s eyes meet yours.

they soften immediately, her lips curling into that familiar smile, and just like that, you’re moving without thinking.

she’s already walking toward you, her boots tapping along the stone path, her hands shoved deep into her pockets.

“hey, y/n,” she says, her voice warm.

“fancy seeing you here.”

your heart swells.

“jessie! what—what are you doing here?”

“i think that’s my question for you,” she teases, stopping in front of you.

“i was just in london for training and thought i’d visit oxford for a bit. nice to see you’ve finally joined the world of us english folk.”

you laugh, trying to mask the butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“i didn’t know you’d be here. i’m just, you know, studying. trying to become a fancy oxford student or whatever.”

“fancy, huh?”

jessie quirks an eyebrow.

“you look more like you belong in california than in england.”

“yeah, well, i don’t know if i’ll ever get used to the rain. or the weather, for that matter,” you say with a small, self-deprecating chuckle.

“i like it,” she shrugs, grinning.

“it’s cozy. but maybe that’s because i grew up with it.”

“right,” you mutter, glancing down at your boots and feeling suddenly nervous again.

“so what’s the plan? are you here for long?”

“nah, just a couple of days,” she says, looking around with interest.

“but i could always stay longer. what about you? got any plans for the day?”

you hesitate, thoughts running wild. “um, not really. just… studying. you know, the usual.”

jessie smiles knowingly, and before you can blink, she’s offering her arm to you.

“well, if you’re not doing anything, you want to come grab a coffee with me?”

you try to keep your cool.

“a coffee?” you repeat, almost disbelieving.

“as in, just us? hanging out?”

jessie tilts her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. “yeah, just us. no big deal.”

you’re pretty sure your heart is about to burst out of your chest, but you manage to nod, trying to hide the giddiness creeping up.

“sure, i’d love to.”

and so, the two of you stroll through the cobbled streets of oxford, coffee cups in hand, casually talking about everything and nothing.

the conversation flows effortlessly, like you’ve known each other for years, like time and space hadn’t really interrupted your connection.

“so how’s chelsea?” you ask, as you both take a seat on one of the benches overlooking the river.

“it’s been great,” she replies, looking genuinely happy.

“lots of training, a few matches here and there. and you? how’s oxford? is it everything you thought it’d be?”

you think for a moment.

“yeah. and no. i mean, it’s exactly what i expected academically, but i didn’t know how lonely it would feel sometimes. like, everyone’s so driven, and it’s kind of… overwhelming.”

jessie nods, her gaze softening.

“i get that. being away from home is hard, but you’re doing it, right? you’ve got this.”

you smile, warmed by her words.

“thanks, jessie. i appreciate that.”

“of course,” she replies, her voice gentle.

“besides, we’ve both got big things going on, right? you with the rhodes, me with the team... we’re kind of a power couple, if you think about it.”

you laugh, the sound coming out more nervous than you intend.

“power couple? is that what we are?”

jessie’s grin widens.

“why not?”

and for the rest of the afternoon, you both walk around oxford, talking about life, about what you miss, about your plans for the future.

the conversation flows with ease, like you’ve always been in each other’s orbit, like nothing has really changed.

by the time the sun begins to set, painting the sky in shades of pink and purple, jessie turns to you, her smile softening.

“i’m really glad we’re doing this,” she says quietly. “i’ve missed you.”

you swallow hard, your chest tightening.

“i’ve missed you too.”

“i mean it,” she continues.

“i know we’re both busy, and i know this whole long-distance thing isn’t easy, but... i want to see you more. when you’re free, come to london. i’ll show you around.”

the warmth in her words melts you completely.

“i’d love that,” you whisper. “i’d really love that.”

“good,” she says with a wink.

“because i’ve already got a few ideas for our next date.”

you laugh, your heart fluttering.

“a date, huh?”

jessie shrugs, looking casually cool.

“we did kind of kiss last time i checked, so i think it counts.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re grinning.

“you’re impossible, you know that?”

“yeah, i know,” she says with a laugh. “but you like me anyway.”

you shake your head, a playful smile on your lips.

“don’t get too cocky.”

“i’ll try,” she says, her eyes twinkling.

the sun dips below the horizon, and the night air grows cooler, but there’s something incredibly comforting about sitting here with jessie, knowing that the two of you have this connection that just keeps growing stronger.

~~

over the next few weeks, you and jessie stay in touch.

the long-distance thing isn’t easy, but it’s working.

you FaceTime when you can, send each other little messages of encouragement.

she’s training for her upcoming season with chelsea, and you’re buried in your studies, but the moments you do find to talk are the highlights of your day.

it’s strange, though, to think about how your life has shifted since that first meeting in the library back at ucla.

you’ve come so far, both of you, and yet somehow, despite the distance, you still feel that pull to her.

that connection you can’t quite explain, but you know is real.

jessie visits oxford a few more times, and each time feels like a new chapter in your relationship.

you go out for coffee, explore the city, and sneak in quiet moments in between your busy schedules.

with each visit, your feelings for her grow stronger, and you begin to wonder if this could really work—this thing between you two, despite everything.

one night, after a long week of work, you find yourself at your desk, scrolling through your messages when you see a new one from jessie.

"thinking about you. when’s the next time i get to see you? "

your heart skips.

you reply quickly: "soon. i’ll make it happen. i miss you."

she responds almost instantly: "me too. see you soon, love."

you grin, your heart swelling.

this? this was just the beginning.

[genjispeace]

UGHHH I loved ur last work with the aphrodisiac genji it was so good 😫😫😫 and i just had another idea- black watch genji x reader where they’ve been hooking up on the DL and everytime genji keeps his mask on until one session you take it off and things get… intense (in a good sexy way) if that makes sense

ILY AND UR WORK 🫶🫶❤️❤️

A/N: hello lovely! hehe I am glad that you liked my last work! I hope you like this one as well! I loved this idea, so I was excited to get to it (even if it took a while haha)!! thank you so much for all of the love on my work. it really does mean a lot to me <3

UNMASKED - GENJI X READER

plot: in which Genji and the reader had been hooking up on the downlow, but he never took off his mask. it comes off for the first time, and things get heated.

tags: Genji x reader, no pronouns used but reader is AFAB, face sitting, oral (m and f both receiving), pierced dick (yeah I gave Genji a cock piercing just to feel something idk), smut barely any plot, genji is lowkey a softie though

______________________________________________________

Your hand curls around the cold metal handle of Genji’s bedroom door. He had given you his door code long ago, letting you have free range to come and go as you please. You push the door open and the soft scent of walnuts immediately comforts you. Genji sits on the floor, rubbing oil into his armor. He looks up when he hears the door, his mask still on. It looks like he may smile under it when he sees you, but you can’t be sure. 

“Hey!” He says, scooting over so you can join him in his spot on the floor. You close the door behind you and collapse onto the floor next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You still wanna have a movie night?” You ask, watching as he meticulously continues working at his armor. He’s wearing sweats and a long sleeve shirt, clearly ready to settle in for the night. 

“Yes, if you’re feeling up for it.” He replies. The two of you have had movie nights once a week when possible for a while now, using it as a time for you both to relax. Sometimes, it would evolve into more than that. The time before last, you ended it in his bed, sweaty and exhausted. The time before that, he bent you over the desk in your room. Part of you thinks it is solely meant as a way to relieve stress, but perhaps it is the hopeless romantic in you that hopes it is something more. He’s kept his mask on or blindfolded you each time, which makes you think it is meant as just stress relief for him. Why would he show his face to a casual hookup? Then again, he does seem like he genuinely cares about you. 

“Yeah,” you say softly. He reaches to his coffee table in front of you two and grabs the remote, then hands it to you. He continues working on his armor as you scroll through his TV, your head still resting on his shoulder. You’re on his right side, so he has to move slowly to keep from moving your head too much. You’re certainly impacting the speed at which he is able to work, but he doesn’t seem to mind. 

You keep scrolling through his TV, but nothing seems to be catching your eye. Instead, your attention is currently stuck on watching his hands as he works. He moves with grace and precision, just like he does in everything. You’re familiar with just how good he is with his hands, and the thought sends memories to your mind and heat to your core. 

You adjust slightly in your spot and flick the TV off. There’s nothing you’d rather watch than him work. 

“You okay?” Genji asks. You just mumble a response and place the remote on the ground. Genji follows suit, pushing his armor out of his lap and a few feet away. He moves again, stretching his legs out at the same time he wraps his arms around you. He moves so quickly that it takes your brain a split second to catch up. He pulls you into his lap and lets you rest your head back on his shoulder. 

His soft scent fills your nose, pine trees and walnuts, and his hand runs up and down your back. It’s a simple action, but his fingers along your spine through the thin material of your t-shirt is enough to make you shiver. You move your hips slightly, an absentminded action, but it results in a grunt from Genji. 

“Don’t do that,” he mumbles in your ear. His response makes an evil smile show up on your face, and you grind down onto his lap. He groans out louder this time, the sound sending heat straight to your core. You press your lips against his neck softly while you keep slowly grinding your hips, and you can feel him hardening in his pants against you.

“You want me that badly?” He says, his hand still running up and down your spine. 

“I could say the same to you,” you whisper against his skin. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as his hands start to move lower, grabbing at the hem of your shirt. You lean back to watch his face as he pulls it up over your head, leaving you in your bra. His eyes darken the second he sees the black garment, and the way he’s looking at you is enough to make you grind down again. There’s a certain hunger in his eyes, one that is undeniably heated. He goes to pull his mask down, probably to press soft kisses against your chest like he likes to do, but the sound of fabric snapping fills the air. You feel Genji freeze under you, and you go to cover your eyes, but you already saw his whole face. 

He’s wide eyed, shock taking over his features. His soft brown eyes watch you. His skin is slightly pale, and scars litter his face. They look deep, and it brings an ache to your hurt to imagine how much they must have hurt. His soft lips, ones you have only felt on you and never seen, are a soft shade of pink and look oh so kissable. You move before you can think, raising your hand to him. He flinches a bit, watching your hand with what looks like fear in his eyes. You finally touch his face, cupping his cheek. His skin is soft, the scars slightly raised. Your thumb traces along one of them, and he leans into your touch. His eyes fall closed, his black hair flopping into his forehead. He’s beautiful, and it makes your heart ache. What you would give to show him just how beautiful he is. 

“I can put it back on,” he finally opens his eyes and says. “The mask.”

“Don’t you dare,” you whisper out. Genji’s eyes widen, his mouth opening slightly at the surprise of your words. 

“I-” he stutters, a blush showing up on his cheeks. “I know my face isn’t the most…appetizing to look at. I can cover it.”

He starts to ramble, and it’s clear that he is more insecure about his face than anything else. It’s strange, and a bit sad, to see somebody so strong, so powerful, so deadly, blubbering in nervousness at you seeing his face. A gorgeous face, might you add.

“Genji, your face is beautiful,” you interrupt him, continuing to run your thumb along his cheek.

“It’s not, but-”

“What? Do I need to sit on it to prove it to you?” You joke, a slight chuckle in your voice, but Genji’s eyes immediately darken. All anxiety, all fear, is gone and replaced again by that deep hunger. He grabs your wrist, halting your motions.

“Would you actually?” His voice is low, almost like there’s a part of him scared to hear your answer. 

“In a heartbeat,” you say, the air suddenly out of your lungs. A smirk takes place on Genji's face, and in the blink of an eye, he has you in his arms. The strength in his body is unwavering as he lifts you and stands, moving the both of you to the bed. 

“Prove it,” he says as he softly places you on the bed. He collapses next to you, and you scramble to take off your sweats, your underwear falling to the ground with them. He lays down against his headboard, and you move to him, unclasping your bra as you go. It gets thrown to the ground with the rest of your clothes, and you’re straddling his face in an instant. 

There would be a certain level of embarrassment about you being naked and him completely clothed, but he is being vulnerable, naked down to the core of his soul, with his mask off. That is plenty for you. 

“Just to be clear, you better not hover,” Genji mutters out, his breath skating along your heated core. You laugh, steadying your hands on his headboard.

“I don’t want to break your neck,” you say. Genji tuts, but instead of replying verbally, you feel his hands on your hips, and he pushes you down. You squeal at the sudden movement, but a whimper escapes almost immediately after as Genji’s tongue starts lapping at your core. 

“Genji!” You scream out. He hums in response, and the vibrations shake through you. His tongue continues to lap against your core, alternating to make sure he gives your clit enough attention. His hands move to grip your thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there. You know he’s going to leave bruises from his grip, but that makes you even wetter. Curses fall from your mouth as you continue to ride his face. He’s talented with his tongue, which is not new information to you, but there’s something so much better about this than any other time. 

He eventually presses his tongue against your entrance, a soft moan falling off of your lips as he presses inside. He groans against your core, and the vibrations from it make your head spin. Your fingers curl around the headboard as your orgasm reaches you. From Genji’s expert tongue, your legs start to shake. It doesn’t take much more for you to fall apart, stars dotting your vision as your orgasm rocks through you. Genji continues lapping at you through it, his tongue circling your clit as you finish. He doesn’t stop, though, continuing to lick against your sensitive core. His grip on your thighs tightens, holding your shaking body in place until he’s had his fill. Your knuckles start to turn white as you continue to grip the headboard for stability. Another orgasm racks over your body as you scream out his name, the overstimulation making your moans turn to high pitched whines and whimpers. 

After the second orgasm comes and goes, Genji seems to be satisfied, because he slows down and moves his hands, allowing you to move. You swing one of your legs over, so you aren’t still straddling him, and it allows him to sit up. There’s a shiny sheen of your release over his lips, his tongue darting out to lick some more of it up. 

“You taste fucking delectable,” he says, then reaches out and wraps his hand around the nape of your neck. He pulls you into a kiss, his lips hard and possessive against yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, and he runs his tongue along your bottom lip. You whimper at the feeling, remembering what that tongue is capable of. 

He eventually pulls away, leaving you feeling empty. An idea pops into your head as you look at him. You slide off of the bed and drop to your knees on the floor, looking up at him. He gets the message quickly and moves to the edge of the mattress so you can reach him. Your hands find the waistband of his pants and pull them down quickly, letting his hard length free. Your mouth waters at the sight: long, thick, and with a small Prince Albert piercing shining in the light. You’ve seen his cock, felt it, before, but it is never enough. 

You stroke it a few times, before taking the head in your mouth. Genji lets out a shaky breath when you run your tongue across the head, then take a few more inches. You feel the head against the back of your throat, and moan out at the feeling. He’s so thick, so hard and heavy in your mouth, and it’s an ethereal feeling. You start to bob your head, and Genji’s hand finds its way to the nape of your neck, helping guide you each time. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Genji mutters as he watches you choke on his cock. You pick up the pace and, as soon as you look up at him through your eyelashes, he starts to fall apart. He groans out your name and his brows furrow together. In a few more thrusts, the head still hitting the back of your throat, his orgasm takes over. He finishes in your mouth, down your throat, and you swallow it without hesitation. Genji groans again at seeing you swallow, your throat bobbing. 

You pull off of him, and he reaches down to pull you up onto the bed with him. He strips his pants off the rest of the way, along with his shirt, then joins you back on the bed. He pulls you against him, your head resting on his chest, where you press a soft kiss to where the metal and skin connect. He pulls a blanket over the two of you and holds you tightly, almost like he’s afraid of losing you.

“Next time I say that I like your face, will you believe me?” You say, looking up at him. A wide smile breaks across his face, showing a hint of a dimple on one side, and the sight makes your heart wrench.  “Of course,” he says, then presses a kiss to your forehead. The two of you stay embraced, him holding onto you tightly as you lay on his chest, until you both drift off to sleep. This definitely beats watching TV.

[mandaloriankait]

Buy Me a Drink

A/N: So this fic isn't even for a challenge, I just wrote this smutty thing for myself pretty much. Pretty much just complete porn, tiny bit of plot if you squint. Thanks to @karinamay for helping me with it and @gothcsz for hyping me up enough to post it lmao. Writing Frankie Morales is hard. I hope you guys enjoy! Also I know several people asked to be tagged in this but I can't find who now because I was a dumb and didn't write yall down I'm so sorry don't hate me 😔

Smut, unprotected piv sex, facesitting, oral(f!receiving)

You took a final sip of your drink, glancing around the bar as you did so. You had come out with a couple of friends, but at the moment you were alone as both had abandoned you to flirt with a pair of guys at one end of the bar. You turned back in your seat as you rolled your eyes at their antics. You didn’t even know why you were here; no one had even as much as glanced in your direction. No, you did know why. You had broken up with your ex a few weeks back, and your friends had insisted you come out with them tonight. They had insisted that it would be fun, get you back into the world of dating. Or fucking, as one of them so elegantly put it. As you sat there playing with the glass in your hand, you could feel someone’s gaze on you. Turning slightly, you saw him. Big brown eyes under a baseball cap, tall, staring at you with a small smirk on his lips. He nodded slightly, his smirk growing wider as you hopped off the stool and made your way over to him.

Sitting down on the stool next to him, you noticed three other men on his other side who had stopped talking and were staring, clearly amused by this turn of events. Taking a breath, you met his gaze and asked the one question you were dying to know. “You single?”, you asked, smiling sweetly up at him. The man coughed slightly, his eyes widening as he stared down at you in quiet disbelief. “Um…yeah. Yeah, I am. That obvious?”, he asked. “No, was just hopeful. Since you are, you can buy my next drink.”, you replied, your smile turning into a smirk as you tell him your name. He tells you his name is Frankie; the guys at his side snicker as you reach for his hand and pull him off his stool. “Let’s go somewhere a bit quieter, yeah?”, you asked. His hand tightened in yours and he gently pulled you across the bar to one of the booths. Frankie did buy you that drink, and a couple more as you talked; both sets of your friends long gone before you realized it. “You wanna get out of here?”, he asked, eyes darkening slightly. You nodded, and he grasped his hand in yours and pulled you from the booth. 

You giggled as you were led out to his truck, eyes raking down his figure. His hand held yours securely, moving to twirl you around until you leaned against the vehicle, staring up into his eyes. Frankie leaned down and kissed you eagerly before reaching an arm behind you to unlock the door. As you moved to climb in, he stopped you. “I want you on top.”, he murmured in your ear. After a minute or two of fumbling, the pair of you were in the backseat of his SUV, you on top, just like he wanted. His hat had been knocked off at some point, and he sat back on his elbows staring up at you with something akin to reverence in his eyes. You leaned down to kiss him again, grinding down on his bulge as you shifted. You both moaned and Frankie used that to his advantage, slipping his tongue into your mouth with ease. He pulled at the hem of your skirt, rucking it up to your waist and leaving you in your panties. You ground down against him again, whimpering at the feeling before pulling your shirt up and over your head. “Off, now.”, you said, tugging at the waistband of his jeans. 

Frankie unbuttoned and pushed his jeans and boxers down to his knees, allowing his cock to spring free. He groaned as your hand wrapped around him, pumping up and down a few times. You pulled your panties to the side and slowly sank down onto his cock. The pair of you moaned as he finally bottomed out, the tip just barely kissing your cervix. Frankie surged up to nip at your neck before trailing kisses to your breasts. You panted as he took a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and ghosting his teeth over it. Starting to grind against his hips, you clutched his shoulders at the stretch in your core. “Fuck, Frankie, please”, you whimpered, unsure of what you were even asking for. 

Thankfully, Frankie knew exactly what you needed; holding your hips tight enough to bruise, he fucked his hips up into you. You cried out at the sensation, rolling your hips to meet his every thrust as one of his hands traveled down to where you were joined. As he started to rub circles on your clit, the coil inside you threatened to snap. “Fuck, that feels so good, Frankie, don't stop!”, you cried out as he sped up his thrusts. “C'mon babe, I know you're close, I can feel it. Come for me.” Frankie gritted out, rubbing tighter circles on your clit until the coil snapped. You cried out his name, entire body shuddering as he worked you through your orgasm. As you started to come down, he sped up his thrusts again, desperately chasing his own high. You slumped forward, changing the angle of his thrusts, whimpering against his chest. Within moments, he was coming inside you with a deep groan of your name. You pushed yourself off of him as he struggled to pull his jeans up, using his shirt to clean himself up slightly. Pulling your skirt and bra back into place, you grabbed your own shirt and slid it back onto your body, suddenly shy. You startled as he laid a hand on your thigh gently.  Frankie looked over at you with a grin; “Where do you think you're going? I'm not done with you yet.” With relief, you returned his grin as you both moved to the front of his vehicle, eager to continue the night elsewhere. 

Frankie took you back to his place, jogging around to open the passenger door for you. You stepped out and he grabbed your hand again, leading you up the driveway. You draped yourself over him as he tried to unlock the door, pressing kisses to the side of his neck as he groaned. He pulled you inside and slammed the door closed, pushing you up against it as his mouth claimed yours roughly. You moaned into his mouth as he grabbed your hips, bringing you flush against him. “Fuck, Frankie”, you whimpered as he trailed kisses down your neck, stopping to suck a bruise onto your pulse point. Breaking away from you, he grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the stairs. He was on you again as soon as you reached his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him as he moved you towards the bed. Frankie pulled at your shirt, lifting it up and over your head before doing the same to his own. Soon, you were both bare; he shifted onto the bed, laying back with a smirk. “C’mere hermosa, want you to sit on my face.”, he murmured, and you were quick to obey, scrambling up to him. As you straddled his face, he barely gave you any time to adjust before he pulled you down to him, strong hands on your hips keeping you in place for him as he licked you open. Grabbing hold of the headboard with one hand and threading the other into his hair, you moaned loudly as the bridge of his nose nudged at your clit. Frankie ate you out like a man starving; after a few minutes, his hands were moving your hips back and forth, encouraging you to ride his face. Your cries echoed around his room, your hand tightening in his hair until he groaned into you. You were moving your hips of your own accord now, desperately chasing the high he seemed intent on giving you. His hands were steadying, but only lightly touching you. Finally, finally, finally, your high washed over you so intensely that you clapped a hand over your mouth, Frankie’s name on your lips. 

Frankie let you ride it out, groaning as he licked up the evidence of your orgasm. As you lifted off of him, he smirked up at you, mouth and chin soaked with your slick. You slid off his body and he reached for you, pulling you close for another kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth with ease. “Hands and knees baby girl.”, he whispered against your lips, pushing you over to the middle of the bed. You obeyed slowly, looking back at him as he groaned at the sight of you spread out for him. He pumped his cock in his hand a few times before pulling your hips back against his own, the head of his cock notching at your entrance. He pushed all the way inside in one thrust, bottoming out in you with a deep groan. He stilled, running a light hand down your spine as if to soothe you; the sudden stretch was a lot to handle all at once, even after two orgasms. Then, he started pistoning his hips into you, the angle just right to make moans of his name spill from your lips. “Fuck, Frankie, I’m close, please don’t stop!”, you begged as he fucked into you. “Yeah? You gonna come on my cock?”, he asked, dragging you up by your waist until your back met his chest. One arm slid around your waist to hold you up while the other hand slid up to your neck, lightly grasping it. You gasped, the new angle making you see stars as his grip on your neck tightened slightly. With a cry of his name, you were pushed over the edge again. Frankie’s thrusts became more erratic as he chased his high; a few more and he stilled deep within you, cock pulsing as he emptied himself. 

Breathing heavily, the two of you slumped forward side by side onto the bed. “That was….”, you trailed off, still trying to catch your breath. Frankie lifted himself up on his forearm, gazing down at you softly, “Amazing? Best sex ever?”, he laughed, causing you to roll your eyes and slap a hand against his chest. He leaned in to kiss you softly, humming against your lips. “I’m so glad I bought you that drink.”

[bisexualiteaa]

Caught

Viktor Vektor x Fem!V Reader (SMUT MDNI!!)

CW: established relationship, pre-Konpeki Plaza incident, slight deviation from plot, slight deviation from story, slight deviation from game, mentions of injuries, mentions of surgeries, cursing, dirty jokes, accidental Voyeurism, masterbation, getting caught, p in v, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving) fingering, cream pie, possible spelling/grammar errors.

AN: Hi guys! Been a minute but I’ve been suuuper hooked on Cyberpunk and lately the hyper-fixation has resurfaced. There is a criminal lack of smut for our favorite Ripper-Doc daddy Viktor here and I wanted to help change that! Please be forgiving, I wrote this rather late at night and on a manic whim, but otherwise I hope y’all enjoy! ♥️

It had been a few days since the last time you got a chance to see and spend time with your favorite ripper doc, and more recently your boyfriend Viktor. You were on a rather stressful, yet important mission with Jackie that you had just returned from. You were happy to finally be done with it so you could relax some and recoup from your injuries obtained from it. It was nothing major of course, some bruises, sore muscles and a couple of nasty looking gashes but nothing terribly urgent. However, you knew Viktor knew best about these sort of things and would help you out, plus you knew it was an excuse to stop by his clinic. Not that you really needed one, you were his partner after all, but you took the opportunity anyway to pay him a surprise visit. “Don’t know about you chica, but I’m starving, thinking of going and grabbing a bite to eat. Wanna come with?” Jackie offered kindly, as he always did. Something you normally took him up on after missions as big as these were to celebrate coming back from, but since you’d gotten with Vik, you spend a lot less time at the bar drowning your stress with tequila shots and spending it with your loving ripper. The days of pondering if anyone would miss you if you didn’t come back from missions, or pondering if you would ever find someone to come home to after them that would be glad to see you back alive were over. You didn’t feel a need to get as wasted as you used to before, not with Vik around. You had proof that someone in Night City cared if you came home, cared if you made it back alive. That was more than you could ever want. “Thanks Jackie, but I think I’m gonna pay Vik a visit. Haven’t seen him since before we left, might see if he wants to grab lunch together and have him check out the damage” you replied, watching as a knowing grin reached your best friend’s face. “No hard feelings chica, I get it. I’m sure he wants to know his el cariño is safe and made it back in one piece. I’ll probably drop by afterwards to see Misty, bring her something to eat from her favorite place as a surprise. Have fun playing doctor” he said with a grin and wiggle of his eyebrows, making you laugh and roll your eyes at his silly comment. “Yeah, yeah. See ya later Jack” you replied, making him laugh before waving goodbye as he started to walk towards his and Misty’s favorite place to eat and from there that’s where you two parted ways.

As you made your way to the ever familiar back alley clinic, whose path you’ve likely taken over a million times in the years you’d known him, you couldn’t help the excitement that began to flutter in your stomach with seeing him. Sure you’d been on missions before where you couldn’t come and see him after, but for the most part, you spent all your free time together. Whether it was enjoying some drinks together while watching old boxing matches, or having nice date nights, there was a reason why some of your things were left at his apartment and why some of his things were left in yours. Spending the night over was a common occurrence between the two of your apartments. You smiled warmly as you greeted Misty, giving her a hug, assuring her that both you and Jackie were safe and well, then letting her know Jackie would be by later for her before descending to Viktor’s clinic. You entered as quietly as you could in order to surprise him, but also not to distract him incase he was in the middle of a procedure or with a patient. The clean smell of sanitary products and rubbing alcohol, mixed with his cologne, filled your nose with a sense of familiarity that had you relaxed already. You were glad to be back. You found him to thankfully not have any clients at the moment, and instead found him lounging in his chair watching something rather intently on one of his monitors. You figured it was likely one of his old boxing matches, he always liked to watch them in his free time when he didn’t have any clients or after the shop was closed up for the day. He would sit, picking apart his techniques and sort of reliving his younger days through them all, sometimes even using them to give you tips on how to better your close combat skills. You couldn’t quite see what it was that he was watching, but judging by the occasional sounds of what sounded like skin being slapped or hit, you figured it to be the case.

That was, until you saw his head tip back. His eyes fluttering shut and a deep, almost gravely, groan escaping his throat that left you blushing. It was soft, quiet enough to just barely be heard but you would never mistake that low timber for anything, not when you heard it just about every night you shared a bed with the man. “V…” he quietly moaned, further proving your growing suspicion that you had accidentally walked in on him working off some stress. You’d never walked in on him taking care of himself before, you didn’t really know what to do in this instance. You wanted to look away and turn around to allot him his much deserved privacy, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from the sight of him like this. The pornographic sounds of his whines and moans, the slick sound of his pre cum as lube that clearly was being lathered up and down his dick as he pumped it in his hand. You wondered if maybe you were dreaming, that this was all some heated dream you’d wake up from but no. This was real.

You were surprised at the fact that he still hadn’t noticed your presence, usually he was so vigilant when it came to people coming into his clinic, or at the very least he would spot you through the reflection off of his monitors. Yet it was as if you weren’t even there. Even as you stood just feet away from him, completely enamored and absorbed into watching how his tattooed arm would flex, showing off the veins and muscles underneath all the ink as his large hand would glide up and down his shaft. A blush rose to your cheeks as you watched him please himself, unable to help the heat that coursed through you at the sinful sight you had walked in to see. Paired with the utterance of your name from his lips, you could feel the fire beginning to stoke in your core with growing need, morphing from a small ember into a raging flame rather quickly. You let your curiosity get the better of you, doing your best to peek your head at what he was watching, and trying to do so without disturbing him or being caught. Seeing as you now knew what he was up to, you were curious as to what it was that grabbed the man’s attention, what fantasies plagued his mind that you could keep in the back of yours to use sometime. You wondered if he would be the type to be embarrassed by his browser history, or if he was rather vanilla. However, to your surprise, instead of seeing him browsing through any porn sights Viktor was watching a sex tape you both had made a few weeks back. One where you were riding him, donned in a nice lingerie set that he had surprised you with as a gift after seeing you admiring it at one of the stores he accompanied you to. You remember coming home from that date night, having finished a rather fancy dinner at one of your favorite restaurants, followed by a trip to the mall where you had no idea he bought that set for you when you weren’t looking.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the decadent display of Viktor, the calm, collected and never untidy ripper doc, with his pants dropped just enough to allow him to hold his dick in his hand, jerking off in his chair to a video of you riding him in a cute teddy bodysuit with the bottoms of it pulled to the side. You grinned to yourself, almost with pride, as that heat filled your core upon your discovery. You left him like this. You did this to him. You unraveled the man that was always so put together, and something about knowing that sent pleasant shivers through you. You couldn’t help the way your body grew almost unnaturally hot, the way your need for touch had grown nearly unbearable as you watched him get off. Your need to be with him, to feel him had grown so much more apparent. It had only been a few days but to you, it might as well been weeks, months even with the way your body craved him like an addiction. But he was the finest addiction in your eyes, and perhaps now you weren’t the only one in need of a fix.

“Hey Vik” you finally spoke, casually enough to not let on that you’d been watching him for a while now, but it was still enough to make him jump and do his best to tuck himself back into his pants as fast as he could without raising any suspicion. “V! Shit, you startled me kid” he said, making you chuckle as he powered off the monitor he was watching the video on. “Glad to see you made it back in one piece, started to worry when I didn’t get a call or text from you” He added, making you smile softly at his concern for you and your safety. It always made you feel loved, cared for in a way that only Viktor could make you feel. “Sorry. I meant to text you but, thought dropping by for a surprise would make your day a little brighter” you said, a blush rising to your cheeks as you looked at him, trying your absolute hardest to look him in the eyes and speak to him like you didn’t just see him fucking his hand and wishing it were you. His face was flushed a slight tinge of red, his breathing still not fully under control yet and you could see the outline of him through his pants. Was there anything this man could do and not look so damn good while doing it? “I clearly do more for you than just startle you by the looks of it. Was coming by to surprise you and see if you wanted to grab lunch but I think I walked in on a more…intimate matter. Been a stressful day, or did you just miss me?” You asked with a playful grin and watched as his face turned even more red upon the realization that you had caught him in the act. He chuckled a little at your question, hoping it would ease his nerves some from being caught. You’re his girlfriend after all, he knew he didn’t need to be ashamed of you catching him, you’d been together long enough and known one another long enough for that to never be an issue. Yet being walked in on like he was a horny teenager incapable of resisting the hormonal influxes, left him more than just a little embarrassed. “Ahh, seems I didn’t hide the evidence quick enough. Forgive me, it’s been a rough few days and I so happened to stumble across the video we made. Had me thinkin’ about you” he admitted as you came closer to him, looking him up and down and enjoying the slightly disheveled and rather flustered sight of him that you were graced with. “You don’t have to explain yourself or apologize to me babe, I get it. It’s been a rough few days for me too, nothing to be ashamed of. It’s nice to know I’ve been on your mind like you’ve been on mine” you said sweetly, your hands massaging his shoulders to help relieve the tension from them, and judging by the groan that left him, you’d say it was appreciated. “You’re always on my mind, kid” he said, making you giggle as your hand traveled down his arm comfortingly before you leaned down to kiss him softly and slowly. “Purely or impurely?” You asked between kisses with a cheeky grin, making him laugh. “I think we both know the answer to that, V. I might be getting old, but I’m still a man” he said, making you giggle. “I’m flattered, truly” you replied with a smirk that never seemed to leave your lips. “Do I even dare ask the same question in return?” He asked with a playful grin of his own, making you hum in response. “You’re always on my mind, Vik. Purely and impurely” you admitted before kissing him once more, allowing you both a peaceful moment to enjoy being back in one another’s presence again. Getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the taste of him dancing on your tongue. “Although I have to say, it’s pretty hot seeing you all disheveled and desperate in your normally clean and orderly clinic. Was quite the sight to walk in to” you said, making him chuckle as he pinched your hip playfully in retaliation, making you yelp in surprise and him smirk as he pullled you into another kiss, wanting to feel you against him again, be close to you after not seeing you for the past few days.

You hummed pleasantly into it, wanting nothing more than to melt into him as your legs straddled his lap. “Need some help? I happen to be pretty good at helping you work off stress” you offered between kisses, making him chuckle as his hands found their way to your hips again, soon resting there. A deep, gravely groan left his throat into it at your kind offer and the way you rolled your hips against his. “Fuck, I missed you kid” he said, making you giggle softly into it. “I missed you too, Vik” you replied softly, pulling away to look into his eyes beneath his dark shades, your hand resting on his stubbled cheek. God it felt good to be back. “What do you say I help you take care of that tension and we go grab lunch afterwards, hmm? My treat” you asked, making him chuckle as your fingers drew absent minded shapes along his chest and collarbone. “Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse” he said, making you giggle as you got up from his lap only for a moment, swaying your hips as you sauntered towards the entrance to his clinic, locking and closing off the gate so that no one would try to stop by and interrupt your much needed alone time. “Good! We can even record it if you’d like. Happy to make another tape with you seeing you liked the last one so much” you suggested with a wink, making him chuckle. How could he say no?

You smiled happily as you straddled him on his chair once more, his large hands resting on your ass beneath your short skirt, groping it on occasion as he kissed you deeply. You both moaned into it as you rolled your hips against his, feeling his clothed dick throbbing and rubbing against your aching clit. As you moaned into your shared kiss, his tongue began to explore yours, tangling in a fight for dominance that neither of you truly cared to win. You just needed one another. You could taste the coffee he’d been drinking, mixed with the addicting taste that is him. Your hands were at the back of his head, fingers carding through and tangling in his dark hair in a desperate attempt to keep him as close to you as you possibly could. You wanted so badly to take things slow, to savor the feel of him against your skin but you both were so desperately in need that you knew it was going to be impossible to take things slow at this rate. You both felt like two feral animals in heat, you could hardly keep yourselves off of each other.

When you both broke for air was when you started removing each other’s clothes. First was his scrubs shirt and under shirt, followed by your shirt and bra, then next was his pants and boxers. You truly could never get over the sight of him naked. From every part of his toned and muscular body, to the dark, but well groomed, happy trail leading to his dick, you swore there was no better sight in this world than the man that sat before you. You sunk down to your knees in front of him, practically drooling over the sight of his cock that throbbed with need just inches from your face. You laid teasing butterfly kisses to his inner thighs, your hands squeezing and kneading them as you worked your way towards where he needed you most. “Missed you so much, Vik” you said, your eyes fluttering up to look at him through your lashes from where you were kneeling. Had he no restraint, he would have likely cum right then and there from the sight alone. You had a wonderful way of making him feel young again. “Missed cuddling you” you started as you laid another kiss to his inner thigh. “Missed getting absolutely ravaged by you” you added, placing another sweet kiss, this time to the underside of his shaft, making him groan as his dick twitched against your soft lips. “Missed waking up to you” you continued as your lips finished their ascent to his tip. “Missed this…missed you so much, daddy” you said sweetly, your tone dripping with sweet saccharine as you threw out one of his favorite things to be called by you, and that was what really got to him. His hand came to your head, fingers carding through your hair to keep it out of your face as you dragged your tongue up his length before swirling it around his sensitive cock head. He groaned as you did so, making you giggle as you looked up at him while you did it. “Yeah? Daddy missed you too, baby. Missed that sweet mouth and this gorgeous body so fuckin’ much” he admitted, making you hum as you wrapped your lips around just his tip, giving a few sucks while looking up at him before popping him back out of your mouth. “Gonna show you how much I missed you” you said, your hand cupping his balls before wrapping your lips back around him and taking as much of him as you could. He groaned as you did, spreading his legs more to allow you better access before tipping his head back. “Fuck…good girl. You always make daddy feel so good, daddy’s perfect girl” he praised as you bobbed your head up and down his shaft, being sure to use your tongue to swirl around his head, and stroke the sensitive vein that traveled along the underside. You looked up at him through your lashes as you did, granting him the sight of your teary eyes as mascara began to run and transfer onto your cheeks as well as the look of pure pleasure and love that filled your eyes upon looking at him. You wanted nothing more in this world than to make him feel good, to make him anywhere near as happy as he makes you and damn it you were going to do whatever it took to make that happen.

The sloppy, near pornographic sound of your mouth on his dick and his low moans filled the space of the otherwise empty clinic. You looked up at him, marveling in the way his brows knitted together with pleasure, the way his eyes, when they weren’t fluttered shut, were trained on you. Watching intently from beneath his shades as his cock disappeared and reappeared from between your lips. “Doin’ so good for me. Makin’ me feel so good, you miss the taste of me while you were gone? Miss having daddy’s cock in your mouth?” He asked, making you look up at him and mumble a “yes” the best you could with him sitting heavily on your tongue. “It isn’t polite to talk with your mouth full, baby- fuck…but I’ll forgive you” he replied, pulling your head off of him before you would make him cum. “Can’t let the fun end here though, sweetheart. Got too much I want to do to you” he said, sending pleasant tingles straight to your aching core as all sorts of ideas began to race through your mind at what he had in store for you.

You yelped playfully in surprise and interest as he picked you up effortlessly, your legs wrapped around his hips as he placed you down in the operating chair. You grinned and giggled as he climbed on top of you, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as your eyes trailed his every move. “You know, I always have fantasized about having sex with you in your operating chair” you admitted, making him chuckle as your arms looped around his neck, looking up at him with a lustful, yet loving gaze. “I know” he said, making you blush out of surprise at his reply. “You *knew*? How?” You asked, genuinely curious now, making him grin wider. “Last time I upgraded your chrome and put you under for it, when you woke up you were still rather out of it and told me” he admitted, making you laugh because that sounded exactly like some shit you would do. “Fuck, of course I did. Well, hey, at least it shows you how much I want you” you replied with a giggle, making him chuckle. “Dirty girl, whatever will I do with you?” He asked, making you grin as your eyes peered up at him with that half lidded expression he loved so much. “Fuck me good and show me how much you missed me” you answered coyly, making him chuckle again as you giggled mischievously. “Ask nicely, only good girls get treated like that. You gonna be a good girl for me?” He asked, making you shake your head yes as he removed your underwear from you, tossing them aside to be forgotten about until later. “Be so good for you, daddy” you replied in almost a whisper, making him grin. “Good girl. How about you let daddy repay the favor of you making him feel so good then, hmm?” He asked, making you bite your lip again as his lips trailed down your body, stopping at your chest to bring one of your sensitive nipples in his mouth, sucking and laving his tongue over it before letting off with a pop to pay attention to the other one. Your body arched up against him with a whine, your fingers finding their way into his hair once more as he showed some love to your tits before returning to his original path. He made it down your chest, past your stomach, soon kissing your inner thighs as you’d done to him before sliding your skirt up a little and finally reaching your dripping cunt.

Viktor wasted no time, almost as soon as your skirt was lifted up enough to allow him space to slot himself between your legs, your cunt was on his mouth. You moaned as his tongue flicked and circled your clit with practiced precision, your eyes rolling to the back of your head from the blissful sensation. “Fuck! Vik, oh my god…feels so fucking good” you moaned desperately as your chest heaved with every breath you took, your hips rolling against his tongue in time with his rhythm. He chuckled into you, looking up at you from between your legs to see you writhing with pleasure, pride filling his chest at the way he already had you nearly crumbling in his hold. Your head was tilted back, your bare chest rising and falling with each labored breath you took and your thighs held him captive in a near vice like grip. All the lovely things he’d been picturing while you were gone, he could finally have now. “Always such a sweet thing for me” he praised, spreading your thighs apart and pinning your hips down as he indulged in you as if you were his last meal on death row. You bit your bottom lip to hold back the loud moan that threatened to leave you as his tongue circled your clit in a rhythm that left your head spinning. “Oh no, none of that. I’ll warn you if you’re being too loud, I want to hear you, baby” he replied before diving back down to flutter his tongue against your clit and occasionally prod your entrance with the wet muscle. You sighed blissfully as he did, feeling that knot beginning to pull taut within you rather quickly. “Better. Keep makin’ those pretty sounds for me” he said as he continued at the pace he was at, feeling the way your cunt fluttered around nothing and hearing the way your voice grew a little higher in pitch. All tell-tale signs that your climax was near. “Give it to me baby, c’mon, cum for me” he said, making you look down at him, and you swore if it weren’t for the way his tongue worked you expertly, it would have been the sight alone of him between your thighs devouring you that sent you to your peak. “Fuck! Vik!” Was all you could get out before your thighs tensed, your back arched and a powerful orgasm washed over you, making him moan into you at the sight before helping you down from cloud nine.

The look on your face was one he did everything he possibly could to ingrain into his memory forever. You always looked absolutely stunning in his eyes, but underneath the fluorescent lighting of his neon signs, the medical lights and the reflecting blue light of his monitors, you looked ethereal. Your furrowed brows, your kiss swollen, spit slickened lips that were opened in an O shape, your pupils blown wide with lust and need as you looked up at him. He admired the scratch marks and hickeys that now adorned your skin, his eyes tracing their descent down to where your bodies were connected. With each intense thrust of his hips, he watched as your breasts would jiggle along with your thighs and ass, a display he just couldn’t get enough of. He swore you were a goddess lying before him, and he had no idea how he was the man lucky enough to win your affections but he was damn proud of it. His one hand was planted next to your head, keeping him up and stable as his other gripped your thigh while he rutted into you. The sounds of skin slapping against skin, paired with your shared pants and moans, filled the air of the clinic in a sinful cacophony. “Vik…” you let out, making him snap back into reality as he smiled softly down at you. He loved the sound of his name falling from your lips. It had never sounded sweeter than when spoken by you. “Yeah, honey? Feel good?” He asked, as if he even needed to with the sounds that you were making for him. You could have easily been mistaken for a cock drunk whore with the way you were reduced to nothing but incoherent babbles and whines of his name. You shake your head yes at him in response nonetheless, knowing that your mind was too lost in pleasure to form a coherent response, much less the proper words to speak them. Your arms reached out for him, begging him to close the distance between you and kiss you. A subtle, yet sweet reminder that you weren’t here just for the sex, you weren’t around just because you needed a good fuck. You were here because you wanted *him* and craved the intimacy of having him against you. He chuckled as he closed the distance between you, lowering himself enough to bring his lips to your softer, but slightly chapped, ones while still angling his hips to hit those spots deep inside you that made your eyes roll back. You moaned sweetly into it, your hands migrating all over his body as your sweet kiss turned into a passionate, almost carnal battle of tongues and teeth. Your nails dug crescent shapes into his back, as well as leaving trails of puffy red lines along his skin from pleasure as you were both swept up in the heat of the moment. “Viktor…” you sighed blissfully as his tip nudged that spot deep inside of you that had you seeing stars, your body arching a little from the cushioned chair you were lying in. “Right there, fuck…!” you moaned, making him grin and chuckle as he angled his hips to specifically brush past that spot.

You could feel the coil in your stomach beginning to wind tight again, with each stroke leaving you closer and closer to tipping off the edge and into pure bliss. “Cum for me, V. I’ve got you” he assured as his gaze once again fixed on you. Despite the fact that he was dangerously close to his own climax, Viktor was a man of class. He always made sure you finished first, no matter how long he had to prolong his pleasure for. His free hand trailed up your thigh to your core, his fingers rubbing tight circles into your clit to push you further towards the edge. After all, what’s more romantic than steamy, welcome home sex where you cum together? He felt your walls close around him a little tighter, fluttering slightly, a sign his fingers were doing just the trick in helping you reach your peak. “Oh fuck, Vik! ‘M gonna-“ was all you could utter out before your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave, leaving your body arched from the chair as you clung to Viktor for dear life. Your cunt clenched down around him, milking him of everything he could possibly give you as he came in you with a deep, sexy groan. You both sat still for a moment, panting in the effort to catch your breath and calm down as you both took the time to bask in the glorious afterglow together. “I love you, V” he spoke, breaking the peaceful silence with heart spoken words. You smiled warmly up at him, he didn’t need the words in response, that gorgeous smile of yours was enough of a reply in his eyes. You hummed pleasantly as he kissed you, his lips a tender, sweet caress compared to just moments before as you felt him pulsate inside of you with each rope of his seed that filled you. “I love you too, Vik” you replied with a happy smile, pressing your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment to enjoy the intimacy for just a little longer.

When Viktor found his forearms aching was when he finally pried himself from you, albeit begrudgingly, but he knew better than to risk the mobility and surgical precision of his hands and arms. You giggled as he sent you the most star struck look, smiling at you with nothing less than pure love and adoration after he pulled out and looked for a towel to help clean you up. “Now that’s one hell of a sight” he commented as he came back over, gesturing to you on his operating chair, naked, legs spread and his cum dripping out of you. You giggled again before hissing in over sensitivity at the feel of the wet towel cleaning your spent pussy. “Maybe next time I’ll dress like a nurse, and let you do it again” you quipped with a grin, making him shake his head and laugh as he stopped the recording and helped you retrieve your clothes before putting his own back on. “Already bad enough that I’ll never be able to look at it again without picturing me fucking you in it” he said, making you grin. “But is that *really* such a bad thing?” You asked playfully as you leapt up from the chair, on slightly wobbly legs, to get dressed, earning an eye roll from him at your jest. “Yes and no. While it’s a great mental picture, it’ll be hard to explain to clients why I might be a little…lost in thought when I ask them to lay on it” he replied, making you hum. “Fair point, but was it worth it?” You asked, making him laugh as he came up from behind you, wrapping his muscular arms around your frame as he placed a quick kiss to your cheek. “Always” he replied with a contented smile, feeling your hands come up to touch his arms as you leaned your head against him. “You really know how to wear me out, kid” he joked, making you giggle. “Well, a handsome ripper once told me that if you aren’t feeling a hundred percent; that you should stay home, hydrate and rest. Recovery is always important” you replied, making him laugh as he pinched your hip playfully to get a squeal from you. “Not that you ever listen to that advice” he jabbed, making you laugh. “Touché but c’mon, Vik! Just let me have a good excuse to drag you from the clinic and spend the day with you. I’m still buyin’ lunch!” You said, giving him your best puppy dog eyes you could to convince him to close up for the day and spend it with you. “Alright, alright. I guess closing up early for once to spend time with you wouldn’t hurt” he said, making your eyes light up with joy as you smiled happily. “Fuck yeah! Should probably head home and shower first though, I can’t say I’m exactly the most presentable” you said, making him quirk a brow at you in interest as he got all his things together. “Just where are you planning on taking me?” He asked, making you smile excitedly. “‘member our first date? Thought maybe we could pay it a visit again. Get all gussied up and treat ourselves to a nice night filled with champagne, good food and love” you said, floored at the fact that you could think of something so mushy and romantic on such short notice. “So long as you’re there, any of it sounds delightful” he said as you both walked out of the clinic after locking up. “Careful Vik, say shit like that and you might charm me right out of my panties again” you joked, making him chuckle. “Maybe that’s the idea” he said with a flirty wink before holding out his hand for you to take as you both walked to his car. You laughed as you both walked as one thought filled your mind.

Fuck was it good to be back.