#but more like “this is doing nothing for me at best and is making me feel like i'm cardboard at worst”

[madamechrissy]

Well, are you mine?

Pairings: Sukuna x fem reader

Summary- You're Yuuji Itadori's best friend since forever, and his older brother Sukuna is a grade A ass to you. After a nasty breakup with your ex, you text Yuuji who's out for the night, he gives you the go ahead to stay at his place. But it's only Sukuna there, and he is oddly comforting? You've had it bad for him forever, but little do you know, so has he, even if he doesn't show it, because Sukuna thinks Yuuji loves you (ahem, he's WAY wrong) Porn w/feelings, best friend's brother trope, Duo POVS

CW- Modern Sukuna, he's a gamer and tsundere af lol, this is SMUTTY asf, loss of virginity (don't mention much abt it aside from reader is one) Sukuna is ROUGH lol, oral sex (m and f recieving) overstimulation, dirty talk, Sukuna calls reader brat and slutty, lowkey breed kink, possessiveness, marathon sex lol. Sukuna is BAD AT FEELINGS lmaooo, but he whimpers? Reader- 20, Sukuna 25- 6.4k WC!

Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one!

You’re walking out in that pathetic excuse for a tank top and the most revealing shorts that morning when Sukuna sees you, peeking up from his monitor, proceeding to get sniped like some damn noob when he sees your nipples perk up through the material. He curses loudly, slamming off his headset then, you look at him in surprise, lips parted just so.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, he glares at you then, standing up as he takes you in, irritated you have such an effect.

“What are you doing here? Yuuji isn’t even home until tonight.” He says with a glare, ruby eyes glinting, you tense just a bit, Sukuna is tall and intimidating, and constantly an asshole.

“He said it was fine, here’s the text.” You swipe up on your phone, he snorts as he looks at it.

“You have a teddy bear case? Stupid.” Your eyes narrow in irritation when he picks up the phone, scoffing as he sees the texts. “God. What a simp you’re making him.”

“What now? Am not even! He’s my best friend, not that you’d understand, you don’t even have any. You’re such an ass.” You snatch your phone back from him, earning his scowl.

“You’re an annoying brat, y’know that? If Yuuji didn’t simp so badly I wouldn’t have to deal with you.”

“Whatever! Ugh.”

“Why’d you need to come here anyway? Boyfriend piss you off?” You sigh, crossing your arms, just pressing your breasts up more for his view.

“He cheated on me.” Sukuna pauses then, hearing the hurt in your voice, seeing it on your pretty face, annoyingly pretty face.

“Shit.” Is all he manages, and you sigh, looking at him then, emotions in the back of your throat.

“That was mean of me to say, that you have no friends. I know you do… I’m sorry I said it.” His mouth opens, then closes, his brows lowering.

“You’re always bitchy to me, it doesn’t surprise me.”

“And you’re always an ass to me.”

“Tch, I’m not gonna fawn over you like your little best friend does, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, every time I stay or hang out you tell me you can’t wait for me to leave, or are just mean as shit.” Sukuna rolls his eyes, looking up at the ceiling then, it’s true he is mean to you constantly.

Every time you stay, he’s picking on you or making snide remarks, to the point he’s made you cry sometimes, and then felt like shit. Nothing was worse than seeing you cry, but he didn’t know what else to do, because you’re haunting his every dream, even last night he was stroking his cock to a stupid Instagram picture of you.

The thing is, Sukuna wants you, and wants you badly, so much it makes him pathetic, his little brother’s best friend, who Sukuna knows has had some stupid crush on since forever. Sukuna’s only five years older than you, but twenty just seems too young, you seem too inexperienced, too innocent and sweet, the last thing you needed was him around you.

And he knew you had some little crush on him, most of knowing him, you used to literally make doe eyes at him, he found it sort of cute at first, but now you’re a whole woman, walking around in nothing half the time. He was happy you got a boyfriend, despite the odd clench in his chest from hearing it, only because he wouldn’t have to see you as much.

So, the best course of action?

Make you hate him, and he thinks it’s worked, you don’t make doe eyes, you’re not fawning over him, or pathetically trying to flirt. No, you’re just as mean to him as he is to you now, god and you scowling and flipping him off? That turns him on more than fucking anything, unfortunately.

“Fuck him.” Sukuna says, and you’re shocked for a moment, as you stare up at the guy you’ve had it bad for since you can remember, Yuuji’s older brother, you thought he was so cool, you were always coming over more and more to see him.

Yuuji was the best friend in the world, so it wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy hanging out with him, it’s just your mind kept wandering, Sukuna was always a grump, but something shifted in the past couple of years, especially this year. He was downright mean and nasty to you, making jokes, pinching on you, ruffling your hair, rolling his eyes whenever you were near.

If his goal was to make you hate him, you don't, you just really can't stand him. Can't stand seeing him shirtless seeing the tattoos around his biceps, down his strong chest, hate seeing his stupid abs that have abs!?! Why does he have to be such an attractive ass, you don't know, but your crush hasn't gone away.

It's worse.

Last night you'd seen Sukuna was here when you'd used the key Yuuji let you have, he was crashed out on the couch sprawled out, movie ended, you'd covered him with a blanket and given him a pillow. In his sleep he almost looked sweet, you thought, having slept in the guest room, he'd swirled in your mind, your boyfriend having cheated hurt, but thankfully you hadn't taken that step with him…

No, you stupidly still wanted Sukuna as your first.

As if that would happen, he hates you so much clearly, and you have seen the girls he brought over, older and more experienced, more confident and worldly. You weren't there yet, especially when the man you're wanting doesn't see you as anything but a little brat.

“Sukuna, are you comforting me?” Sukuna scoffs.

“Of course I'm not, but also… he's a fucking idiot. You don't deserve someone who does that shit.” You blink back tears then, stepping to him, hugging him.

Sukuna freezes, as he inhales that scent, something floral and irritatingly delicious, your soft breasts pressing against his chest, your nipples taut under the tank top. You're tiptoeing, holding him around his chest, he grimaces, wanting to pick you up and drag you to his room, but he shoves at you.

“Annoying brat, off me god.” You shake your head, snuggling closer, when he realizes you're crying. It annoys him how you wrench his heart when you look up, tears falling out of your stupidly pretty eyes.

Did you have to affect him this way?

“Thank you, Kuna.”

“Don't call me that, ugh.” He places his huge hands at your waist to shove you off, but you gasp at it, taking over your waist, burning your skin then. He falters, his breath coming faster as he holds you there, just a little off of him, eyes going to your lips, tempting him to no end. “Stupid nickname.” He grumbles.

“I… you used to not mind it. What happened to make you hate me so much?” You whisper, hands slipping up his chest, so much revealed in the soft white shirt he's wearing, you feel his heart thudding under your hand.

“Don't hate you, just you're annoying.”

“How?”

“Just being here.”

“So I annoy you just existing?”

“Yes.” He speaks through clenched teeth, when you lean back, and he views your body. “Why do you fucking dress like that!?”

“It's comfy. What do you care, Kuna?”

“Stop it with the stupid nickname. Your… your body annoys me.” He is whispering now, hands slipping down your hips, you let this little sound out from the back of your throat that destroys him then.

“My body, what not your type? Don't wanna see it?”

“You're so fucking stupid.”

“How can a body piss you off? Ah!” Sukuna had you picked up now right on the kitchen counter, your breaths come in pants at getting handled like this, his big hands on your thighs, his eyes boring into you.

“All I can think about is all the ways I wanna fucking ruin you for any stupid boy you'll ever meet.” Your heart thuds in your chest, blinking rapidly as if you're in a fucking dream.

“Wh-what?” He moans softly, rough pads of his fingers slipping up your thighs, watching the goosebumps rise everywhere.

“Thinking how good your little pussy tastes, how pretty your tits must be, how your face would look fucked out.” You're moaning out loud when he finds you then, lips hovering just an inch from yours, he moans when he finds your slick cunt dripping, he laughs then, softly. “That wet for me? Haven't even done shit.”

“Shut up and touch me, please, Sukuna.” The way that his name sounds from your lips? Your eyes dilating? Your wet cunt on his fingers? His cock starts throbbing from touching you, watching your face when he shoves a finger in your hole, you grip him like a vise.

“Anyone ever made you cum? Any of your dumb boys?” You grip his wrist when his fingers curl in your gummy walls, finding that spot instantly and pressing on it, making you gasp as you gush down his fingers. “Fuck you're wet, why are you so stupid tight, fuckin feel you…”

“Don't know… I… Kuna, m’a v-virgin, ngh!” He yanks away then, panic on his face. “Don't stop, please.”

“A virgin, how the fuck?” You whine out as he backs off, sucking you off his fingers, his cheeks moaning, those crimson eyes dilated, the hottest thing you have ever seen. “Why do you taste so good? God I can’t stand you.”

“Kuna, please… just…”

“No, I won’t do that, I sure the fuck won’t take that. How are you even…”

“I’ve been waiting.” You murmur, earning his brows raised, barring you on either side with his strong arms, leaning close.

“You what now?”

“For you, stupid.” Sukuna cups your face with one hand, hot as your overheated cheek, so close your breaths mingle.

“No way, I’m not doing that, it’s bad enough I even touched you, now you’ll be all I can think about, annoying little brat ruining me.” His words hit, your pussy throbbing around nothing then, you lean your head and kiss his palm, melting him as you do. “Don’t do shit like that.”

“Do you want me?” You ask, thighs on either side of him.

“What do you think?” He grabs your hips, and you feel him, huge and hard against you over the fabric of his pants and your shorts, he grabs you tight, you’re looking at those lips, usually in a smirk or a sarcastic grin, so pouty right now, begging for your kisses.

“Doesn’t have to be anything serious-”

“How can you say that? No, it would be.” You would end him the moment he got inside you, he already knows it, tasting your sweet arousal on his tongue, looking at the color your cheeks are tinged, imagining your face as his cock leaks precum against his boxers.

“I can be… casual…” You’re grinding on him, you’ve never felt this, the longing for him in this way, you’re jutting your chin up, trying to kiss him, but he pulls his face away, shaking his head. “Kiss me.”

“No way.” He won’t be able to stop, at least at this point he can rip himself off of you, taking several breaths, turning away from how delectable you look sitting with your thighs spread on his counter.

“I’ve seen all the women you bring over the years, why not me? You clearly are casual about it?” You hate the emotions in your throat. “Am I not…”

“If you say some dumb shit like you’re not attractive, I swear you’ll piss me off. Look at you.”

“You won’t look at me.”

“I can’t right now, I won’t just fuck you, especially your… first I… can’t. Just drop it, just forget it even happened.” You jump off the counter then, breathing fast, heart nearly pounding out of your chest.

“I’m sorry I asked.” He curses as you run off to the room, his head is spinning from your scent, your taste, the images now burned in his brain, your slick still on his fingertips.

He could never just take your virginity, what if he hurt you? What if he hurt you emotionally, he sure his entire life has never had a real girlfriend, he’s had hookups and booty calls, that’s it. And for the past year he’s pictured you half the time when he’s played with himself, when he’s slept with them, but he can’t do that, you deserved better than him surely.

You’re all dressed now, you stand there and look at him, he hates the tears that have streaked down your face, your bag on your shoulder. “You don’t have to leave, just leave me alone.” He says then, and you laugh without humor, shaking your head.

“I can’t face you after that, too embarrassing. Don’t even tell Yuuji I came over, please.” You go to leave and Sukuna stops you, a hand on the knob above you, his hard body towering behind you, you feel so small next to him, god who didn’t?

Sukuna runs his fingers down your spine, you shiver from the sensation, he leans close, his lips against your ear. “You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“No?” You look at him then, noses touching, so close.

“Everyone wants me, it’s fine brat.” He smirks, you glare then, smacking at his hand on the knob and pulling open the door.

“Fuck you, Sukuna.” You say, he grins at you like the asshole he is, but when you shut the door behind you, you don’t see him cursing himself, forehead resting on the door, his stomach sick.

Why’d he do that?

Why couldn’t he just give you what you wanted, what he wants so badly?

He’s terrified to disappoint you, but he already has.

*****

Two Weeks Later

“Please stay for dinner!? Please, please, please!” Yuuji begs you, literally on his hands and knees bowing, you giggle, shaking your head.

“No, I can’t… your brother-”

“He won’t bother you, he just yells at the game, it’s fine! Never used to bother you, and I miss you.” He looks up with sweet honey eyes, making you sigh then, nodding, he jumps up all excited. “Perfect, I need to show you the recipe my brother Cho showed me!”

“How is he? I miss him.” You say softly, Yuji’s other brother lived far away now, he was a sweetheart, much unlike Sukuna.

“He’s doing so well, his band is so popular now. I’ll tell him you said hi! You know he thought you were so pretty.”

“Cho did? No way.”

“Well who doesn’t, even Sukuna does.” You pause then, faltering as you look at the kitchen, where he’d had a long, thick finger inserted in your little hole. Where he’d tasted you.

“Um, I doubt all that. He hates me.” Yuuji shakes his head, checking his phone then. “Your girl?”

“We’re not dating yet, just talking, but we are going to a movie tonight. You know her, yeah?”

“Yes, she was so sweet in school.”

Sukuna walks in as Yuuji shows you their texts, his eyes darting to you, taking in your little pleated skirt and top with some dumb anime character you liked on it, you looked fucking adorable. So cute he hates it, so he scowls at you, earning your scowl right back, as Yuuji looks between you both.

“Woah, calm down. Sukuna, I have a date!” Sukuna’s heart drops, Yuuji surely would be good enough for you, he’s sweet (annoyingly sweet) and devoted. Choso and Yuuji were sweet, he’s not sure how he got all the asshole of the family, but he supposed it came from taking care of them both, being the oldest.

He should be a little relieved, you’d leave him alone now, right? You wouldn’t give him that look, he would finally know you’re untouchable, he clears his throat now, hating that his heart feels like it’s ripped in half. Just two weeks ago, the last time he saw you, he’d felt your heat, he’d had you begging for him, but he turned you down.

He did this.

“Finally, you two are going on a date, huh?” He says, trying to act casual, and Yuuji snorts, shaking his head, as your eyes go wide.

“Us, no! We’re too close, we’d never ruin our friendship. Though I sure asked her out a lot in school.”

“You tried.” You say with a little smile, as Sukuna stands there dumbfounded. “You’d never have liked dating me, I hate your zombie movies too much.”

“You have the worst taste, it’s true. Now, Sukuna, it's this girl…” Yuuji starts going on, and Sukuna can barely hold his composure, as he shows him a picture of her, as he’s rambling.

He was convinced his brother was in love with you, it’s a huge reason he has pushed you so far away, he’d never dishonor him like that, even if he knew you didn’t feel the same. He struggles to focus now, as you look down nervously, as if you could hear his thoughts, feel what he wants so badly.

“Thought you simped for the brat here.” He says, Yuuji laughs.

“No, she’s just a beautiful best friend.” He kisses your cheek and you smile warmly at him, it lights up your face, doing the annoying thing to his heart again. “If you’re not so mean, maybe she’ll stay for dinner.”

“Me, mean? Never.” You and Yuuji both roll your eyes at him.

“I don’t have to stay, Sukuna, I was just stopping by.” Your words break him down, remembering how mean he was, and he didn’t apologize, why should he though?

He should have said something.

You’re feeling his gaze on you, as he runs a hand through his pastel locks, the same shade as Yuuji but his are longer, messier, he has a little stubble on his cheeks you don’t remember seeing. As you further look, you see the dark circles under his eyes, how tense he is when he opens his mouth, just to close it, and re open it again, as if he doesn’t know what to say.

Sukuna is… on edge?

“You can stay, what do I care? Used to your ass around anyway.” He walks to his room then, and Yuuji excitedly talks to you, but your mind is in that room, with that asshole of a man.

The dinner is awkward as fuck, and when Yuuji leaves to get ready for his date, you hastily start washing your dish, you feel his gaze on you, he’s leaned back in the chair with his legs wide. You don’t dare say a word to him, you’re too mortified still, too confused, his one touch with no kiss has done more than anything you’ve experienced so far.

Awakened shit that was already there.

Made it worse.

“So you two never…” Sukuna trails off, leaving the question open, you look back at him as you dry your hand with a dish towel.

“Never what, dated? Of course not.”

“I thought the kid had it bad for you.” His voice is quiet, you clear your throat, shaking your head then.

“No, I tried to tell you, just friends. Yuuji is sweet and I love him, but I’ve never felt that way… like I…” Like with Sukuna. “Yeah, anyway, the girl is so sweet. I’ll head out when he does, don’t worry.”

Sukuna’s standing next to you before you can blink, he’s wearing this black dress shirt unbuttoned just so, revealing too much of his strong chest, pecs that are ridiculous, your eyes keep darting to it. To those collar bones, the black lines running along, making you wonder just where his tattoos stop, you physically back up, looking away then, unable to even look in his eyes.

“Running away, brat? Scared?” He raises a brow, you blink then, shaking your head. “Yeah you are.”

“Scared of what?”

“I’m ready guys! Oh… are you two gonna… hang out?” Yuuji asks with a little smile, you’re blushing then, shaking your head.

“Hang out with him? What, no.” Sukuna’s jaw clenches now, you smile as you feel how mad he is. “What?”

“What’s so wrong with me?”

“You’re an ass.”

“You’re a-”

“Okay, dumb question, don’t kill each other.” Yuuji does a little spin then, showing off his outfit, you giggle. “How do I look?”

“Amazing!” He kisses your cheek and hugs you then, just the sight of that alone has Sukuna infuriated, imagining kissing you.

What do your lips feel like?

Would they end him?

“She’s staying, she’s gonna… game with me.” Sukuna says then, you and Yuuji both look at him with shock. “Yeah, brat wants some lessons on Call of Duty.”

“Lessons? You game?” You want to burst out in laughter, the only video games you play involve very hot men on your phone.

Sukuna eyes you though, so intense it’s hard to breathe, you smile then, a little shy almost, realizing what he wants even though he’s not saying it. He wants to spend time with you, this shithead, this asshole of a man, he’s… he’s trying to express that he wants you to stay. And, to stay alone with him.

“I do wanna learn though, plus we should try to get along, hmm?” You look right at Sukuna, he’s not smirking or grinning, he’s vulnerable for a moment. His full lips parted just so in surprise.

“This makes me so happy. I love you both so much! If he pisses you off too bad, just text me.”

“What would you do, kid?” He demands.

“I’d… well I’d tell you to be nice.”

“I love you too.” You tell Yuuji then, and he runs off now to his date, leaving you alone in the kitchen again, with Sukuna. “Video games, huh?”

“Video games.” He answers, and before you know it, he’s right in front of you, gently holding you by your face, in a sweet manner you’d never think he could. “I want you, fuck I’ve wanted you for a long time now… but I thought you…” He’s trailing off, words escaping him.

“You thought Yuuji loved me, and you couldn’t do that.” You answer, everything starting to click now.

“That and you irritate the shit out of me. I don’t like what I feel.”

“What do you feel, Sukuna?” You step forward, arms wrapping around his thick waist then, he gulps visibly.

“Too much.” Is all he says, eyeing your lips hungrily.

“Maybe I feel too much. It’s scary, yeah?”

“I’m not scared of shit.” He’s leaning closer, you’re aching for him to just kiss you, licking your lower lip, tantalizing him as it turns glossy.

“If you’re not scared, then why are you so afraid to kiss me?” You whisper the words, his eyes flutter shut, a hand gripping your hair then at the nape of the neck, pulling it just so.

“Because I won’t stop there, I won’t stop till I’ve kissed every part of your body, till I’ve licked every part, until you’re cumming all over me.” Your little whimper from the back of your throat ruins him, he slams his lips down then, and it’s over.

Your kiss is messy, it’s desperate and sloppy, your tongues dripping saliva as he lifts you suddenly, you cling to him, thighs squeezing narrow hips, arms around his neck, your hand drifts through his undercut just so. He’s moaning as he kisses you so brutally, carrying you until you’re against a wall, pressing you there, you gasp for a breath while he starts licking down your throat.

“Kuna…” You’re arching against him, clinging tightly as he bites your throat, his big hands gripping your ass and squeezing.

“Hate that nickname. Hate how much I like it. Fuck you.”

You scowl, pulling away. “Fuck me for what?”

“Being so stupidly pretty. Driving me crazy forever. Fuck you for tasting so good, too.” You’re opening your mouth to protest, but he’s already carrying you to his bed, unceremoniously plopping you down on it, yanking off your top then, your breasts heave as your breaths come quickly, and he eyes you. “Fuck you for perfect tits.”

“Fuck you for being a dick.” You counter, but he’s gripping your breasts in his huge hands, squeezing them, sucking on your nipples, your hands enwrap in his pastel locks as he looks up at you, saliva strings dripping from your breasts. “Fuck that… feels s’good…”

“Fuck your sexy little moans, too.” You can’t be mad, not when he’s got your skirt off you, not when he’s ripping your panties to shreds, not when he eyes your pussy hungrily, shaking his head as he nips your inner thigh. “And fuck if you don’t have the most perfect pussy, what the…”

“Kuna, you’re c-crazy.” You whisper, he laughs then, breath tickling your cunt as he parts your plump lips, inhaling you like some psycho, burying his face. “Kuna!”

“Shut up, brat. Gonna ruin you for anyone.” He’s talking to your pussy it seems now, strong fingers pressing your thighs apart as he swipes a stripe up between your lips, licking you all the way from your hole to your clit, the sensation has your hips jerking, which he pins in place. “Ah- ah brat, stay still.”

“S’too much… I… oh my god.” Sukuna is devouring your pussy, there’s no other term for it, the way he laps at your pussy with his stupidly long tongue, his eyes bright red when they look at you, when he flicks it to your clit. You’re soaking him, hands pulling at his hair, earning his groan against you. “Wh-what… you’re… I…”

“Shut up, brat, I want to hear you cum, not run your mouth.” You should be offended, but you can’t be, not when he’s fucking your velvety walls with his tongue now, pinching your clit with two of his fingers, the stimulation far too much, you feel it, the pressure building in your core, spreading.

“Kuna!” You’re screaming that nickname, he doesn’t care in fact he loves hearing it, loves your pussy drooling around his tongue, he feels your walls tighten around his wet muscle then, looking up at your face, mouth open wide in an O, eyes rolled back, your hands yanking his hair out, and he knows you’re cumming for him.

He’s grinding his cock on the mattress, aching to be inside you, but he also wants to make you beg for it, wants to make you pathetic for him, only him. You’re cumming so blinding, stars bursting everywhere behind your eyelids, your body convulsing as you’re gushing all over his handsome face. You feel his grin against you when he pulls back his tongue, slipping two fingers inside.

“Hear how slutty she is, huh? So slutty thought you were a good girl.” He huffs, you’re reeling from cumming so hard when he quickly finds your g spot, as if he knew your body forever. “Can’t talk? Pathetic.”

“F-fuck… you I… it’s too much!” You whine, he’s scissoring those two fingers in and out of your now soppy little hole, you do hear it, the wetness so fucking loud, he’s licking your clit now, sucking it into his mouth, you’re pushing over the edge again. “Both!? I c-can’t!”

“Mmm, you can, cum again, pretty slut. Lemme drink it.” You’re trying to close your thighs, but he forces them open, smacking at one, shaking his head. “Again, y’can do it.”

“S’too much…” You’re whining over and over, it is so much pleasure you have trouble comprehending a thought, when he crooks his fingers in your gooey walls, and sucks your clit again, you’re shattering.

“Mmm, there you go, you can do it can’t ya?” He’s cooing to you, smirk on his features, that are coated in your slick.

“Please!” You’re yanking him up, he chuckles a bit, letting you, hovering over you with his strong arms, as he wipes your chin with one hand.

“You’re fucking drooling, god, fucked out already? Can you handle me?” He raises a brow, you want to retort, but you are fucked out, you came more than you ever have, now you’re opening your mouth and closing it. “Can’t talk, stupid brat?”

“F-fuck off… ass…” You manage, earning him more hard for you, kissing you deeply, you taste yourself then, but even more when he shoves his fingers in your pussy, scooping out more arousal, shoving them in your mouth.

“Suck them like a good girl, there ya fuckin go, pretty little slut.” You’re in tears from overstimulation as you suck him eagerly. “So ya can follow directions, ha… didn’t know that mouth could shut.”

“Shut it.” You whisper, pulling back with a pop, he falters at your seductive words, shaking his head.

“You sucked dick?”

“N-no.” You admit, he sighs then.

“Look, maybe not the first time.”

“Sukuna, are you being caring?” You tease, his brows lower, lips pressing in a firm line.

“No! Just… you need a lot of workup and… will you stop smiling like that!? Stop looking at me that way.”

“Like what?” You tease, hands unbuttoning him shakily, he pulls back then, taking a breath as he looks down at your pretty body, and you reveal more of his chiseled frame.

“Like… that. Like you’re…”

“In love with you?” His jaw tenses again.

“Shut it, now.”

“I am, stupid ass. Don’t know why.” You sit up when he stands, eagerly unbuttoning his pants, his heart races like he’s the virgin, brain short circuiting when you slip them down, his boxers following.

“I… you… shouldn’t…” He doesn’t remember what he was saying, you’re too sexy, too pretty, your words he’s never thought he’d hear. “You don’t love me. Don’t say it.”

“I do, and I will say it.”

“Then why did you ask for… casual!?”

You’re blushing when his cock is revealed, and it’s massive, thick and heavy, his reddened tip drooling precum. It’s so big you can’t understand how it would fit, your hand barely circles the girth, looking so tiny against him, he’s ridiculously big. You nervously look up, seeing his eyes dilated, his lashes lowered, Sukuna’s hands come to enwrap in your loose hair, gripping it.

“Answer me, brat. Now.”

“Because if that’s how you want to, I’ll do it. I want you, I have wanted you.” He exhales, jerking when you lick his tip.

“I don’t want to be casual with you, okay!?” You smile, he rolls his eyes. “Don’t you dare smile like that. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna be all mushy and dumb.”

“I don’t want to be casual either.” He cups your face with his other hand, groaning when your hot mouth starts sucking him in, there’s too much of him, you barely get the tip and an inch or two, swirling your tongue, tasting the salty precum, his musky scent filling your nostrils.

“F-fuck…” Sukuna’s stuttering, you swear you hear him whine, but you wonder if it’s a trick of your ears, his hand on your face shaky when he starts thrusting his cock in your mouth, eyes locked on yours. “Stupidly pretty brat.”

He might as well say ‘my love’ or ‘darling’ because your body reacts, already having had so much pleasure you’re wet again, when he yanks you more on his cock, shoving it deeper. You’re breathing through your nose as he fucks your throat, as he’s gasping and moaning out your name, you finally think you have a rhythm when he pulls you off.

“Was it okay?” You ask nervously, he shoves you on your back, between your thighs in an instant then, you gasp for breath.

“Okay? Sucked it like some pro. You lyin’ t’me?” You giggle, shaking your head and catching his gaze.

“Watch porn though.”

“Porn ain’t shit to what I’m gonna do.” You’re crying out as his tip leaks precum along your clit, biting your lip when he’s pressing into your tight ring of muscles, your nails dig into his back, feeling the taut skin. “If we do this, you’re never fucking anyone, never. Fuckin got me brat?”

You blink a bit, as his tip presses in, stretching your skin. “You love me too, don’t you Kuna?” You tease, he scoffs, but then nods just a bit, and kisses you, pressing past your barrier, you gasp at it, at the pain, being stretched by him. “Ow! Shit!”

“Shit… y-you’re too tight… loosen the fuck up, brat.” You glare up at him, throbbing from the pain now, he’s barely holding on.

“I can’t. Y-you’re an idiot!”

“Running your mouth?”

“You’re too big!”

“Fuck…” He eases back, leaning up on an elbow, hand slipping down and rolling on your clit. “Relax, annoying ass. Even your pussy is stubborn.”

“You’re… so… ah!” His circles are rough, calloused thumb pressing on your little engorged clit, when he sinks in again.

“Relax, now.” His husky voice gives you that order, you do so then, exhaling and looking into his eyes, that are so dark they look black, you nod weakly. “You… are you alright?”

“You care, aw.” You can’t help it, you’re grinning all fucked up.

He glares again, this time thrusting deep, you scream out at it, he moans, biting your neck again, big hand gripping your thigh and lifting it higher. “Fucking feel her, gripping me my god. She’s mine, huh?”

“Y-yours, Kuna.” Your little whimper destroys him, your cunt pulsing around him, stretching and getting wetter to accommodate, and he begins actually fucking you then, you’re so wet, hot and tight he can’t stand how good it feels, he’s already dreaming of breeding this little cunt as you convulse under him.

“F-fucking love it, slutty little pussy.” His words along with his tip dragging against that spot in your walls send you reeling, you hear it now the skin smacking, his balls slapping your ass, wetness squelching when he pulls back, gripping your hips with a wicked grin. “Look, fucking your guts up, huh?”

He forces your chin to look down at the ridiculous bulge in your tummy, you gasp at it, clinging to his sheets now, so full when he sinks more of his cock in you, so much you don’t think he’ll fit fully, he’s already slamming your cervix. His hands slip up your hips, yanking you down further, you scream out at how good it feels.

“Ruin you, no one… n-no one’s gonna do this, yeah?” He leans over just a bit, fucking you harder, thrusts so rough your tits jiggle, your body moves. “Use you as my little fuck toy, pretty toy, so fucked out and stupid.”

“Ngh!” You are stupid, your eyes are rolling back, you’re drooling, incapable of doing anything but pulsing on his cock now, of desperately clinging to him.

“S-say it, brat.” He’s shoved his cock so deep, your cunt is dripping down his veiny length, you’re whimpering desperately, nodding. “That’s it, cum f’me, lemme feel her clamp down. F-fuck, there she is…”

Now Sukuna is full of nonsense, you’re both mumbling as he does ruin you for anyone, as you ruin him for anyone, he’s kissing you sloppy, his tattooed hand wraps your throat. He squeezes just so, you’re fading as he rails your cunt, muttering filthy, nasty words, you were a virgin, but he sure the fuck wasn’t taking it easy.

Well, you didn’t think he was, Sukuna actually is taking it easy.

He’ll wait before he goes where he wants to, but you so eagerly open your mouth for his spit, desperately cumming all over his cock then. “Made f’me, pussy she’s m-mine, hmm?”

You’re getting choked, swallowing spit, and this asshole asks you a question? You manage a nod, as he slows finally, releasing your throat, hand slipping up your titty to pinch your nipple, hips rolling just so, jerking his cock against your bruised cervix. You’re a stupid mess under him, sputtering when he finally slows his rhythm, when he thickens impossibly in you.

“I’m never pulling out of you, on something?” He huffs, you blink in confusion as he grins. “Asked ya a question brat.”

“On… pill… mmm…” He moans now, exhaling.

“Good, hah-” He thrusts deep again, you’re fluttering around his length. “Wouldn’t pull out anyway. I’d knock you the fuck up, breed your slutty cunt.” You’re done for, when he starts spurting cum, crying out in your ear, taking over everything with his huge body on top of you, in you, around you. He’s cumming so much it’s ridiculous, coating your walls, filling your belly full. “Oh f-fuck… fuckin love you…”

You blink as you come to, as your cum and his are pushed out with each thrust, your thighs shaking, head buzzing from pleasure. He looks at you then, eyes desperate, biting his lower lip while you put it together. “You love me, Kuna?”

“Shut up.” You smile when he kisses you again, and well… you don’t just fuck once for your first time.

You’re fucking in the shower to ‘clean up’ and then he’s got you up on the counter, devouring your pussy again, seeing how many times you can cum, soon he’s got his game going, showing you the controls as you’re cockwarming him. You’re so sore no amount of ibuprofen will fix it, but you want more, you’re grinding on him as you wear his headset, getting shot hopelessly by the players.

That’s where Yuuji finds you all, your tits out, Sukuna half naked, big hands on your hips with his cock inside you, you gasp then, covering your tits with your hands, but Sukuna just laughs, kissing on your shoulders. Yuuji covers his face, turning away quickly in embarrassment.

“K-kuna… s-stop…” You whisper, but Yuuji waves at you all, covering his eyes with a smile.

“You’re getting along!”

“Um… yeah.” You manage, and Sukuna’s laughing so hard it’s annoying, he doesn’t pay attention to your glare.

“Cool… um… bye.” He hides in his room, you try to get up, but Sukuna has you pinned down, tilting your head and kissing you.

“You’re insane, Sukuna.”

“You love that shit.”

“Shush. Show me the… g-game…”

The teammates are very curious why Sukuna started sucking at Call of Duty that day, but he has his new very annoying girlfriend to blame, she’s just squeezing his cock too good.

A/N I really have been feeling some Sukuna latelyyy, I hope ya'll enjoyed the smut aha!! <3

Taglisttt: @yenayaps @schlokki @elliesndg @thelightknight21 @attackonnat @indiewritesxoxo @sylussss7 @ninikrumbs @zezedoesshit @iveiveim @spacefae-x @maomimii @moonchhu @jinxiewritings perma tags- @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @aldebrana

[palmerzy]

Hey girl! Saw your page and followed, love your work! Was wondering if you could do something with Spencer Reid + fingering her for the first time? (Reader is inexperienced) thanks!

hey anon!! spencer is more dom in this than i usually write him to be, i hope that’s okay ‼️

NSFW! - explicit sexual themes.

you’re not really sure how you ended up in spencer reid’s apartment, making out with him on his couch, but how could you complain? he’s gentle and sweet, but the way his hands grip your hips tell you he’s more familiar with this dance than you are.

you’ve had sex before, sure, but never anything extravagant, and nobody has ever really cared for your pleasure. nobody, until spencer, who’s slowly sliding his hand up your skirt, skimming his fingers across the edge of your panties in a way that makes your skin crawl in anticipation.

he knows you’re not too experienced, never being one to share stories of hookups with morgan and emily, so he assumes there’s nothing to share. “this okay?” “you can tell me to stop,” “just wanna make you feel good like you deserve,” he’d mumble huskily into your ear, his lips pressing kisses to your jaw so gentle you fear you may be falling in love with his touch alone.

he’s elated to find you wet for him, grinning like an idiot knowing he did that, and his grin only widens when he slides his middle finger into you, feeling around for what works best. his brows are furrowed, his tongue between his teeth as he focuses - until finally he makes a ‘come hither’ motion, earning a squeal from you. “oh, yeah, that’s the spot, baby? that works for you?” he’d ask softly, biting your ear lobe in satisfaction when you nod.

“mhm. i know that’s right. ‘cause the clitoris extends inside and that spot right there is the back end—“ he’d begin to ramble, all whilst his finger is slowly curling into you, his ring finger joining the mix. “please shut up and just keep doing what you’re doing,” you’d interrupt, back slowly arching off his sofa as his fingers press against that spongy spot inside of you, having you a whimpering mess beneath him in a matter of seconds.

who knew spencer’s fingers could feel so good? well, now you did. plus, you’ve always had a sneaky suspicion - watching him write away in his notebook at work, thoughts wandering to feeling those long, slim digits within you, and here you are. experiencing everything you’ve spent hours daydreaming about at work, being interrupted by hotch’s stern questioning of why your case studies aren’t on his desk by now.

spencer’s speeding up at this point, encouraged by your soft mewls in his ear, letting him know he’s doing good. he can tell by your startled reactions that this is a first, and it spurs him on further. “nobody’s ever done this to you, pretty girl?” “never? what a shame, you’re so responsive. so gorgeous. wish i’d shown you how to feel good so long ago.”

his thumb would gently press against your clit, fingers moving in and out of your pussy in a perfect yet gentle rhythm. he tries circling your nub with pressure, scanning your face for a reaction - and he concludes that slow, light rubs seem to draw the prettiest moans from your swollen lips.

you’d feel a coil tightening in your stomach, something unfamiliar, and his hands are working in a way that has your body immensely relaxed whilst simultaneously being anxiously on the edge of something new. “spence- spence, i don’t-“ you begin, brows furrowed, hands digging into his hair.

“shh, shh, i know. you’ve never properly come before, huh? it’s okay. you’re okay. let go.”

[honeyncherry]

taste me now - bfb!rafe

summary in which rafe can’t help himself around his little sister’s best friend, especially after what happened last week

content 18+, suggestive

masterlist

Sarah’s laugh rang out across the backyard as the two of you sat by the pool. She was mid-story, something about Kiara’s latest terrible date, or maybe it was JJ’s? You weren’t sure. Her words blurred together, punctuated by exaggerated hand gestures and little bursts of laughter. 

You were doing your best to listen — really, you were.

But you could feel him. 

Rafe was up on the deck, leaning against the railing like he had all the time in the world. A cigarette balanced between his fingers, the faint trail of smoke curled lazily into the air drifting in soft, spiraling ribbons. And while his gaze stayed mostly fixed on the horizon, you knew better.

He wasn’t looking at you, not overtly, at least. But the occasional flick of his gaze in your direction was enough to make your stomach twist.

The memory of that kiss burned hotter than the relentless summer sun. You’d told yourself it was a mistake. An impulsive, heat-of-the-moment lapse in judgment. You were Sarah’s best friend, for goodness’ sake!

There were rules about these things. 

Rules you’d shattered the second his lips touched yours.

And yet, even now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. About the way his hand had lingered on that sliver of exposed skin between your top and too-short skirt, his touch leaving a trail of warmth that refused to fade. How his other hand settled at the curve of your jaw, his thumb grazing your cheek with a quiet, consuming intensity. As though he were mapping every contour, committing it to memory. And most of all, the way he’d breathed out your name, his voice deep and reverent, like it was something sacred. Something meant to be cherished by him alone.

You shifted in your chair, skin prickling under the weight of your own thoughts. The guilt coiled tight in your chest, its grip almost suffocating. You told yourself again and again that you shouldn’t be looking at him. You shouldn’t even be thinking about him.

But you couldn’t stop.

“Ugh, one sec,” Sarah said suddenly, cutting through the haze in your mind. She glanced at her phone, frowning. “It’s Wheezie. If I don’t answer, she’s gonna call like, five more times.”

She stood, her hair swaying behind her as she made her way toward the house, already pressing the phone to her ear. “I’ll be right back,” she called over her shoulder.

You nodded mutely, not trusting yourself to speak. The moment she disappeared inside the backyard seemed quieter somehow. All sounds around you faded into an oppressive stillness.

You focused in on the pool, trying to steady your breathing while watching the water ripple in the light breeze. Trying to remind yourself that there was nothing to worry about.

But you felt it before you saw him.

A shift in the air. A weight pressing down on your senses. The faint smell of smoke lingering even though the cigarette had been long gone.

His sudden presence made your pulse quicken, and you wondered how he’d gotten so close without you noticing. “Hey baby,” he husked, his voice soft and hurried as he glanced behind him, checking to make sure Sarah wasn’t returning.

“Rafe—” you started, your voice faltering as you looked up. But he didn’t let you finish.

He leaned down abruptly, one hand gripping the armrest of your chair, the other sliding to the back of your head in one swift, almost desperate motion. His fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of your neck without hesitation, and before you could utter another word, he pulled you toward him, his lips crashing into yours.

Once again, you found yourself succumbing to Rafe Cameron far too easily. The kiss was reckless, charged with the heat and tension that had been brewing between you for weeks. Rafe’s teeth teased your lips, his breath warm and beyond intoxicating.

Your hands twitched at your sides, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. Instead, they froze, clawing at the fabric of your chair as if anchoring yourself would somehow steady the whirlwind inside you. Your heart clenched, and a shaky exhale escaped against his lips.

Your heart raced, its pounding so fierce it silenced everything else, leaving the world around you a distant blur. Guilt clawed at your mind even as your body betrayed you, leaning ever so slightly into him, just enough to feel his hard chest brushing up against your tits. Rafe groans, pulling away and looking down as they spill out from your bikini top.

He licks his lips, glancing up and shooting you a sleazy grin. He stares just long enough for the both of you to catch a single breath, before muttering two words that would echo in your mind for the next week: “Missed this.”

He kisses you again, lips and tongue all over you. Your mouth, your cheek, your jaw. They move frantically from your ear to your neck. You gasp as a new flood of emotions crashes over you, threatening to pull you under while your hands reach up to grab him. To touch him. To feel him.

“Rafe,” you whispered again, this time more of a plea.

But he’d already pulled back. His movements were measured, almost like he was savoring the moment.

His smirk lingered, curling at the corners of his lips like he knew exactly what chaos he was leaving behind. His gaze flicked to your lips one last time, a shadow of something unreadable crossing his face before he turned his head.

He glanced over his shoulder, pausing for the briefest moment as Sarah’s voice floated faintly from inside the house.

Then, with maddening composure, he straightened. Every movement exuded an infuriating sense of calm, as though nothing just happened.

With his hands slipping casually into his pockets, he turned and headed toward the docks, the sunlight catching the sharp angles of his profile before he disappeared from sight.

You were frozen in place, breath hitched in your throat. Leaning slightly forward, you were still caught in the lingering pull of where he’d held you just seconds ago. Your fingers brushed against your lips, as if needing proof that it had really happened… again.

A weight pressed against your chest, the same dangerous pull from last week, but now it hit harder. It was stronger, deeper, and even more impossible to ignore.

The sound of Sarah’s footsteps jolted you back to reality. Your gaze snapped toward the house just as she stepped outside, phone in hand.

“Ugh, finally,” she groaned, dropping into her chair with a dramatic sigh. The legs scraped faintly against the concrete as she slouched back, completely unaware of the storm still raging inside you. “Wheezie wouldn’t shut up about this jacket she found on sale. I swear, I’m blocking her next time.”

She trailed off, her nose wrinkling as she sniffed the air. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the space around you, “wait. Does it smell like smoke out here?”

No.

Your body went rigid, heart slamming against your ribs like it was trying to break free. “Uh, I don’t think so?” 

Sarah turned sharply, her gaze locking onto you. “Are you sure?” she asked, leaning in closer.

The moment stretched unbearably, your pulse roaring in your ears as you forced a shrug, silently begging her not to see the guilt etched across your face.

“Well, whatever,” she said at last, leaning back in her chair with a dismissive wave. “I swear, Rafe stinks up the whole house when he smokes. So gross.”

You swallowed hard, your tongue brushing over your lips. The faint taste of smoke lingered there, branded on your skin.

You hated how much you liked it.

[st7rnioioss]

WHEN BSF!CHRIS CAN'T KEEP HIS HANDS AND THOUGHTS OFF INEXPERIENCED!READER ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... grinding, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), kissing ˚࿔ notes: i'd like to say beforehand this is a little further into their relationship! I'll add more background stuff later<33

chris was restless. he continued to toss and turn in your bed, finally settling on his side, one arm slung around you waist while gently tugging you closer to him, pressing your back flush against his chest while you were sleeping peacefully.

he tried to doze off, he really did. but sleep seemed like the furthest thing away when he laid there, listening to your soft breathing, as the only currently audible noise, feeling the way your chest rose and fell under his touch.

his mind was running a million miles an hour, and he couldn’t get it to stop. it was dirty, wrong thoughts—about you. his best friend since.. well, for as long as he could remember. it had become something more usual, but this time he couldn’t control it.

you’d always been attached to the hip, but never once had he thought about you like this. never had he wondered what you’d look like naked, vulnerable under him.. okay, maybe a few times, but never to this extent. you'd only gone as far as him showing you how to finger yourself properly, where he took over the job because he couldn't resist.

how would you react to his touch? would you reach for his hair? his arms? would you grab the sheets instead? what did your moan sound like?

the real question was why on earth he was having these dirty thoughts about you. you were the sweetest girl he’d ever laid his eyes on, so sweet it gave him a toothache whenever you’d innocently bat your eyes at him, begging him to go get ice cream with you.

gosh, make it stop, he thought to himself, groaning when he snaked his other hand down to try and ease his rock-hard cock, which only seemed to make it worse, hardening even more under his own touch.

he didn’t know what to do, and only to worsen his panicked state, you started turning, his arm momentarily slipping from your waist when you faced him.

your eyes were thankfully still shut, lips in a soft pout from the pillow pushing them together. the sight didn’t help either. nothing helped him ease his raging hard boner. you laid there, so pure, unknowing of his sinful thoughts while your peaceful, gentle look only made the tight restrain in his boxers worse.

sleep was out of reach by now, his hand desperately trying to relieve his aching cock with a groan by carefully rubbing his palm over the bulge—but then your eyes fluttered open. he stared down at you with widen eyes, almost in disbelief that he’d been caught somewhat rubbing himself through his pants, but you didn’t seem to notice right away.

“are you okay?” your soft voice was heard. “you seem restless..” yeah, his constant tossing and groaning woke you up, but not enough to fully comprehend the situation chris was in.

“i- i can’t sleep. that’s all,” he whispered back, blinking rapidly while your eyes scanned his face, roaming every feature you were so familiar with.

speculating about his somewhat unsure answer, your eyes made their way down his chest when he let another whine slip, noticing the way his palm pressed against his groin, and you immediately felt ten times more awake than you were before. heat rushed to your face, before your eyes met chris's desperate gaze.

“oh..” you quipped, suddenly hyper aware of every movement of his, every desperate groan you’d heard behind you just moments prior now making much more sense.

“p-please, just- just let me.. let me put it in,” chris pleaded miserably, letting his free hands knuckles brush over your reddening cheek, his touch gentle as ever.

“chris- no, we can’t..” your answer only made his dick harden, though it seemed fucked up. you were so damn innocent, a prude even. you’d always avoided the topic of sex, not daring to go down that path ever. but he knew that when it came to him, you could bend the rules. “please- i’ll make it quick, i’ll just put the tip in. it hurts so fucking bad,”

but something about the situation caused you to turn curious. chris begging for your touch, begging to let him do something about his hard erection, to touch you.

“okay..” attentively, you turned around to lay in your previous position on your side, chris's hand slipping from the front of his shorts, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“thank you, thanks- thank you,” he babbled, his clammy hands making their way to the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts, slowly pushing them down your thighs, until they pooled around your ankles, that you continued to gently kick off.

“i promise i’ll be careful, just the tip..” his breath fanned across your neck, making a soft gasp slip from your lips.

your eyes were wide open and lips parted when he hooked his hand under your thigh, gently lifting it to spread them apart, carefully placing your leg back down as if you were made of fragile porcelain.

“o-okay..” you spoke quietly, your breath hitching when his finger made contact with your panties, gently tugging them to the side. “already so wet f’me..” his voice was husky against your ear, lips grazing the sensitive skin as his thumb slowly ran between your slick folds, a weak moan falling from your parted lips.

you were driving him insane, already dripping for him, and it only took a couple right touches and words. oh, how bad he wanted to keep showing you how to feel good, let alone be the first one to. he'd already gotten his fair share on that part.

you’ve never been more nervous, but yet you felt safe with chris pressed so close up against you. it was chris after all, he’d never do anything to hurt you, plus, he was always so gentle with you whenever it came to stuff like this. your hands tugged the stuffed animal you usually slept with to your chest, nuzzling your nose into the neck of the teddy, the soft material under your fingertips easing your mind a little.

“i’ll be gentle, angel.. no need to worry,” he whispered, one of his hands maneuvering his shorts down mid-thigh, along with his boxers, the other one gently running down the side of your face, tugging a few strands of hair behind your ear.

he wrapped his palm around his cock, fisting his cock with a lewd moan, before bringing the head of his cock to your entrance.

“i’ll put it in now.. it’s just the tip, don’t panic..” he mumbled, pressing a reassuring series of kisses to the side of your neck, feeling you nod. “go- go ahead..”

those words was all he needed, gently smearing his sticky tip down your soaked folds, before pressing it forward, watching it disappear inside of you.

“holy- holy fuck..” he groaned between gritted teeth, his fingers gripping at your hip, a weak gasp elicited from your mouth. “oh, chris..”

your moan was silenced from the soft teddy in your arms, eyes fluttering shut at the slow intrusion, letting whines fall from your lips.

chris nearly lost his mind when he felt your walls squeeze around his tip—it took every fiber in his body not to stuff you full of his cock, not to completely ignore your previous, innocent words and start fucking into you.

“gosh- chris..” you whined, nails digging into the soft fur under your hands.

you could practically feel the desperation seep out of him from behind you, his throbbing dick just aching to be inside you.

“m’sorry angel, sorry.. i can’t hold back, please say something-“ chris's voice was strained with despair, his fingertips digging into your bare hip, smoothing his palm over your thigh.

“it’s- its okay..” you whispered, words somewhat muffled, but coherent. he was thankful almost, mumbling continuous praise and ‘thank you’ into your ear, smoothing his palms down your sides, under your top.

it sure was okay, he could tell. you were drooling around his tip, only making it easier to slide right in—which he did. holding tightly onto you, leaving kisses down your neck and back, he pushed his cock further inside of you, slowly.

“h-halfway, baby.. you’re doing so good,” he husked, his heart pounding in chest as he stilled his movements for a minute, allowing you to adjust.

you couldn’t keep quiet, eyes rolling to the back of your head while they fell shut, biting down onto the plush toy to restrain the moans. yet, pornographic whimpers slipped from your gritted teeth from the painful yet delicious stretch, making chris's head turn to mush.

“fuck.. you’re so perfect,” he hissed, sinking his length in until he was fully sheathed inside your heat with a sigh of relief.

blubbered moans fell shamelessly from the both of your lips as he slowly rutted against you, a hint of pain striking through you as you adjusted to his size.

you knew it was wrong. so, so wrong. friends didn’t do this, they really didn’t. what was gonna happen after this? would you just go to bed and wake up just usually tomorrow, just treating it as a favor?

but even though, you never wanted it to stop. his soft touch, lips continuing their work on your lower neck, stuffing you full of his cock when he rolled his hips.

“does it hurt?” he purred, his hot breath mingling on your neck, making a slight shiver run down your spine.

“no… chris, it feels- feels good,” you breathlessly whimpered, gripping the plush animal between your arms as if your life depended on it, listening to the dirty squelching of your pussy, basically drooling onto the soft material between your lips.

he only nodded, feeling your walls flutter around his cock, clenching and squeezing the life out of him. your back arched just slightly when he hit a specific spot within you, moaning loudly into the stuffed toy.

“y-you’re doing so well.. so beautiful,” he cooed, the praise going straight to the pit in your tummy, feeling the tension tighten as your teeth nibbled on the soft plushie.

“oh- oh my god..” without any warning, the waves came crashing over you, your chest heaving while your grip loosened on the soft plushie in your arms.

“jesus christ,” he panted, his slow but rhythmic thrusts continuing, until he reached his climax as well.

“shit- i’m gonna come,” he barely got to say, before the ropes of white spilled inside of you, letting out a shaky breath at the release of tension. you felt limp in his hold, your face growing hot, and heart racing with lidded eyes.

“thank you, thank you angel,” his breath hitched as he slowly pulled out. his pink lips left repeated kisses to the side of your face, listening intently to your breath regulating gradually, the pants turning back to the soft breaths he’d been listening to just moments prior.

you let a small smile break, nuzzling your nose back into the teddy bear to hide your blushing face, as if your back wasn’t turned to him. “it’s fine…”

his fingers danced across your waist, making their way to your hip, giving it a gentle pat as a dazed smile settled onto his lips.

“come on, pretty.. we gotta go pee,”

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: none:3

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @forgottxen @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @forgottxen @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[kingkaizen]

𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓱𝓬'𝓼

∘ desc: breeding scenarios revolving around my fave blue lock boys <3

∘ ft: karasu, barou, sae, kenyu, shidou, + oliver

∘ a/n: my first blue lock post ahhh i hope you all enjoy! keep in mind that my requests are open for blue lock now for any of these characters!

∘ includes: nsfw, breeding, dirty talk, creampie, edging, praise

KARASU:

For Karasu, it’s more of you expressing this kink with him and he follows along with it

At first, he doesn’t get why you like it so much

Once he finally obliges, it's like a switch flips in his head and he can’t get enough of cumming inside of you

“Aw princess, you’re doing such a good job for me.” Karasu coos down at you, in awe of how well you’re holding yourself back for him. He is obsessed with edging you, not wanting you to cum until he says it’s okay. It could be the control of it all, or maybe just the way you look, but he’s enamored with how incredibly wet you get.

“Tabito, I can’t anymore,” you whimpered, tears threatening to spill over your lashes, “I just wan’ you to cum already. Cum inside me please, baby.”

Karasu let out a groan at your words, hips moving faster into you as he lifts a leg over his shoulder. He’s impossibly deeper now, your hands pushing against him in a sad attempt to get him to slow down. Kissing your swollen lips, he murmurs sweet nothings against them as he ruts himself into your walls. 

“Fuck! You’re so deep, please please please I need to cum.”

“Shit baby go ahead, gush all over my dick and I’ll give you all my cum. You’ll be so full, I promise.”

BAROU:

Barou is just so in love with you, you are his queen after all

In the moment, he doesn’t care if you get pregnant or not

He can’t help but want to show you his love in this way, show you how badly he needs you

“You feel so good around me, baby.”

Barou looks so ethereal underneath you, hands gripping your hips for dear life as you fuck yourself with his cock. He’s struggling to keep his eyes on you, fighting the pleasure to take in how amazing you look on top of him. Leaning down to give him a kiss, he places a hand at the back of your head to deepen it. Barou tries his best to be soft with you, a stark difference to his personality on the field

“Love you so much Sho’, shit.” You could feel his hands roaming over your entire body, stopping back in their original place on your hips. Suddenly, Barou plants his feet firmly on the bed before thrusting his hips up into you. It’s almost too much for you to take, you allow your body to give out and lay against his chest.

“Wan’ your cum, need it.” you babble, feeling the way he twitches inside of you at your begging.

“I’ll give you anything you want and more, just you wait.”

SAE: 

Sae doesn’t seem like the type of guy to actually want kids

For him, breeding is more of a “claim” type of thing

Thinking about pushing his cum deep inside of you is enough to get him going

“Need you to squirt all over me, don’t disappoint me now.”

Sae held you up against the wall, forearms straining as he fucked into you. He was far from a weak man, positions like this where he could really show off his brute strength were his favorite. You’ve been teasing him for too long and now he’s craving that feeling of you squeezing around him more and more.

“Sae! You’re too big, feels like you’re in my tummy.” You slurred out, mind completely gone as he snatched all the thoughts out of your head. “Wan’ you to mark me all up, make me yours.”

“Don’t be stupid, you already belong to me.” Holding you up now with only one hand while your legs are wrapped around his waist, his fingers wrap around your throat causing you to look directly into his eyes. “If I’m going to give you all of me, I need to know that you’re gonna be good and not waste any.” 

KENYU: 

Kenyu loves you so incredibly much, so of course he wouldn’t mind growing a family with you

He wants you to have his babies so fucking bad 

Kenyu will not stop until he gets exactly what he wants

“You’re gonna look so fucking cute with my kids inside you,” Kenyu grunted out above you, completely folding your legs back until they were practically next to your ears. Despite the position, his touch was still gentle in contrast to the words he uttered. From the moment you expressed how badly you wanted to have kids, something inside of him completely flipped. He had you folded constantly, never stopping until he finally gave you what you asked for.

“Tell me, honey, do you think they’d have your gorgeous eyes? Or maybe your pretty smile?” Kenyu’s questions couldn’t even register in your mind as he continued to fuck you. The only thing you could bring yourself to think about was how good you felt and how bad you wanted to feel his warmth inside you. Your mind went blank, eyes clouding over as uncontrollable moans left your lips. Kenyu chuckled slightly at you, a hand reaching over to your chin to direct your gaze at him.

“C’mon beautiful, keep your eyes on me. Can’t have my pretty mama going all dumb on me, can I?”

SHIDOU:

Shidou is a nasty man 

He doesn’t want you going anywhere without a reminder of how good he is to you

Why not fill you up over and over until he achieves that?

“C’mon slut, you can take it.”

Shidou’s stupidly annoying grin makes your eyes roll before a small moan slips from your lips at his length. You’re already so sensitive, his stamina seems never ending as he thrusts into you. 

Your legs are wrapped tightly around his waist as his head rests near your shoulder, the warmth of your bodies together makes your senses overload.

“Ryu’ please,” you whine, grinding up against him in an attempt to get him even deeper.

“Fuckin’ greedy little thing hm?” Shidou responds, reaching underneath himself to play with your clit, massaging the bud until he could feel you shaking around him. “I’m going to fill you up until you can’t take it anymore, you hear me?”

OLIVER:

Oliver just simply doesn’t use protection

The way you squeeze him in, it seems like you don’t mind either

The only thing he wants to be on your mind is him

“Don’t zone out on me now, tell me what you want.”

Oliver has you in the most embarrassing position possible, legs spread wide open facing a mirror, forcing you to look at how flustered you are. With his hands placed underneath your thighs and your back against his chest, he grinds himself right up against your wet folds.

“I-I want, fuck, I want you inside of me, Aiku.”

“Mhm, good girl. Don’t take your eyes off of yourself.” He leads his tip right through your entrance, staring at the way your mouth falls open in pleasure. The way you struggle to look at yourself makes him want to cum right then and there, but not before he fully has his way with you. 

“Please fuck me, I’ve been so good.” You pleaded with him, body twitching in his hold from how long he’s had you in this position. You feel on the verge of orgasm already, his teasing affecting you more than you’d like to admit.

“Only if you tell me what you want from me. You know what I want to hear you say, sweetheart.” Oliver’s taunting voice rings in your ears. 

“Your cum, I want you to cum inside of me”.

“That’s it, good job. Now I’ll give my baby want she wants.”

© kingkaizen | do not copy, steal, or duplicate!

[simpjaes]

Thoughts on jealous Jay? Like is he gonna give silent treatment and then fuck you senseless or talk it out calmy and be a cutie and sulk like a baby till you give him attention and needs alot of affirmation (ITS A HORRIBLE ASK I DONT KNOW HOW TO DESCRIBE IT OKAY IM SO SORRY)

Oh.....oh. what if...both?

WARNING: could be considered dub con to some people, be aware of that. not proof read.

Three days.

It's been three whole days since your boyfriend last spoke to you, and your mind has been running in all sorts of directions to determine why. Three days, that's how long it took you to get it. That's how long it took you to wonder if Jay is planning to break up with you over it.

Over Sunghoon, and the way he called you mid-sex with Jay all those nights ago. He was just asking if you took notes during the last class since he skipped, that's all. You didn't even answer the call, but it's the fact that Jay glanced over at your ringing phone and saw his motherfucking name.

It was eleven at night. Why did he have any reason to call you so late? "Jay..." You make the same attempt you have been making each day, every hour, as much as you can to try and get him to respond to you.

And it's the fact that he still shows up every day like usual, like he's not mad at you. Yet, he leaves every night without a work towards you, not a goodnight kiss, not a hug, not even a "sleep well." "Are you going to break up with me?" You meekly add, noting how he doesn't even glance in your direction and, instead, sits on your couch as if you're the one invading his space. For the first time in three days, she shoots his eyes to you, narrowing them. Finally, some emotion. Yet, still...no words. No reassurance. Nothing to make you feel better, or to indicate that Sunghoon is the reason, or that he's not breaking up with you. Instead, you find yourself backing away from him as he storms up at you. Back, back, back until you're hitting the kitchen counter and unable to escape from him. He says nothing, he doesn't even kiss you, and instead you feel his hands pulling your shorts down too fast to argue. Then, you're being flipped around, further proof that he can't even stand to look at you right now. And, so, you let him. Whatever he needs, whatever he wants if it means he will finally go back to normal. You're thankful he does too. Though it hurts knowing it took him plunging into you from behind, pressing your face into the cold counter to actually open up about why he's upset. He had to treat you like you mean nothing in order to remember you matter, much, much more to him than either of you can imagine. And now, as you sit somewhat numb against his chest, he whispers the warmth back to you. Apologetic, guilty for having let his jealousy get the best of him. "Baby, I-" He pauses, knowing there's nothing he can do to erase the fact that he just fucked you without any care or gentleness. "I had it my head that you...were going t-" "It's Sunghoon, isnt it?" You blurt, looking at your boyfriend and the way he pouts and relishes in his own guilt. There's a small nod from here, a shameful one. "You ignored me for three days over Sunghoon?" Another shameful nod, proving to you just how insecure your boyfriend is and how much he probably needs you to reassure him that there's no one like him in your life.

[melminli]

Ddakji Man

summery - you were always struggling to make ends meet, despite having three separate jobs and you doubted that that would ever change. it felt like you were working out of your own casket and it would probably be more sustainable to invest in one at this point.

pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. reader

word count: 1,5k

contains: slight arguing, cursing but nothing too graphic tbh

"Are you sure that you don't want to come?" One of your friends asked you a little sadly since you were about to leave the group. They rarely got to see you anyway, did you have to leave so early? "You never come with us when we go out for a drink, we miss you there, you know?"

You smiled a little tiredly as you strolled casually through the streets. "I'm sorry guys, I just have to work tonight." you tried to explain. Besides, I'm fucking tired and just want to get some sleep before then. I miss my bed.

Your best friend pouted as she hugged you from the side and you welcomed it, even if it made walking a little more difficult. "It's always work this work that. Live a little for once, all this stress is not good for you. You need a break." she spoke up before a thought came into her mind that made her a little furious. "Don't tell me that you're using work as an excuse to cancel on us. We can do something else if you want to. I'll even invite you, come on!"

You took a tired breath. I don't have any energy for this. "Trust me, I'd love nothing more than to get drunk with you and I'm not being sarcastic or anything." you clarified. Besides, I wouldn't work this much if I didn't have to.

"All right." she gave in unhappy. "We'll catch you one of these days, I can feel it..."

You laughed softly. "Please do," you replied and stopped in front of the stairs that led to the subway. This was the place where you had to say goodbye to your friends and you did with a few more hugs. You enjoyed spending time with them and loved your friends with all your heart, but you were still happy to be a bit on your own now.

So you plugged in your cable headphones and played your current favorite song at the loudest volume before checking when the next train was going to arrive. Another twenty minutes? The last one must have just left. You decided to just sit down on a bench and wait while staring blankly around and quietly mumbling the lyrics to yourself.

A few minutes later, a person sat down next to you and you could see out of the corner of your eye that it was probably some kind of businessman or something. You didn't look closely out of politeness and turned your gaze somewhere else after checking the time on your phone.

"Excuse me." the unknown man tried to get your attention, but as expected, you could barely hear him over the booming music. He placed his briefcase in the space between you before leaning closer to your figure and looking towards you with a smile and finally, you seemed to notice his stare and turned in his direction. You took out one of your earbuds as you met his gaze. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

The man leaned back again. "I haven't said anything yet. I wanted to ask if I could talk to you, do you have a moment?"

You looked around a little uncomfortably as he maintained uninterrupted eye contact with you. "Ehm, well..." you stumbled slightly over your words. "I'm not religious or anything, sorry," you replied, having no patience for another discourse about Jesus and the church. This is the fourth time this week, lucky me. You thought to yourself as you were about to put your earplug back in.

The salesman held a hand in the air to stop you from doing that to keep your attention. You just looked at him uninterestedly and waited, it was going to be a while before your train arrived anyway. A smile graced his face after you were willing to listen to him again. "That's not what I wanted to talk about, I just want to offer you a chance."

Your face tightened a little in disgust and you were quite irritated by now. He seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer and didn't say anything else, so you had no choice but to interpret his words. He doesn't look like that kind of guy, but I guess it's always the ones who look the most decent. "Listen to me asshole," you said openly this time, all politeness gone as you pointed at his chest with your index finger. "I don't know you, maybe you're one of those men who try to talk in riddles to seem mysterious or something, but right now it just sounds like you're looking for someone cheap to fuck." you replied as you tapped his tie with each syllable and leaned a little closer to him as you whispered. "And I'm not cheap, so you might want to look elsewhere."

This time it was you who grinned as he looked at you in surprise and he let out a small grunt after you finished your sentence. The salesman straightened his tie while watching your figure before reaching for his briefcase and revealing its contents, "That's too bad, but also not what I was talking about," he replied as you looked at the money and colored paper in confusion. "Have you ever played Ddakji?" He asked you as he took out the red and blue paper. You just shook your head. "That's no problem at all, we can still play it if you're up for it." 

Your gaze alternated from his hand to his face. Oh, so he's crazy. You finally concluded. I guess he is too handsome to be just a normal guy, huh. You turned your head away from him, something about the whole thing just seemed perverse to you. "No thanks, I'll pass."

"You sure?" He asked again, knowing he'd convinced you as soon as he brought the money into it. These people are all the same, she'll snatch the paper right out of my hands after I start talking a language she understands. "Every time you win, you get 100,000 won from me." He began, watching the look on your face. "But if I win, you owe me 100,000 won and -"

You sighed and interrupted him. "Yes, I'm sure. I still don't want to play with you, okay?"

This time the man looked at you with a cold, icy stare. A few minutes passed like this and you just tried to ignore his gaze, but then he started talking again. "All right. 200,000 won." he finally said, but couldn't seem to get your attention back. He tried again. "Is it because you've never played the game before? We can have a practice round if that would make you feel more comfortable." he tried again and got irritated when you continued to ignore him. He looked around the area as he considered his next move. Is she waiting for me to increase the prize money further? These people usually jump up happily at the first amount since they're so desperate. He tried to collect himself again. "500,000 won." he finally said. "I've got the money right here, you just have to go for it."

When is this stupid train coming. "Look, I don't want your fucking money, understand? I'm not a gambling addict or -"

"You may not want it, but you need it," he said, annoyed. This has never happened before, is she stupid? He then spoke out your name and described your miserable living situation as if you didn't already know about it yourself. "You also have quite a lot of debt for someone who is still relatively young, are you seriously going to turn down the money I'm offering you? For what, to prove a point or something?"

You didn't know what this man's fucking problem was, he should be glad that you didn't want to take his money, and how did he even know all this? You got up from your seat next to him when the train finally arrived and turned to face him one last time. "Fuck you," you told him and then went to the doors. You even looked out of the window at him as soon as they closed before you, to show him your the middle finger.

The man in the suit watched your figure irritated until it was gone and then, took the little card out of the inside pocket of his suit, that was meant for you. He turned it over a few times in his hand before closing the open briefcase with his other one. He had already played and lost a few Ddakji games in his life, which was the point of the whole thing - to recruit players for the actual game. However, the thought of what awaited them there meant that he was still in control of the situation. He was always in control of the situation. "I didn't loose, we haven't even played." he tried to reassure himself.

And yet the whole conversation with you left him feeling like he was utterly defeated.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Sukuna

[Chapter 8] Bargain

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

*happy new year🫶

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

There’s been a mood shift in the room. You weren’t cheery before per say, but you definitely weren’t like this. It feels as if the place has shifted from a warm orange hue to cold blue. 

Perhaps it was always like this and he didn’t notice. He’s come to see you in a different light after you announced that you didn’t care for the babies. He shouldn’t care if you want the babies or not, as long as you nurture them when they’re born– Yet, he can’t help but dwell on the thought.

“Are they kicking?” Sukuna asks, watching as you slowly eat the food that’s in front of you. Maybe things look more drastically different since his perspective of you has changed, but some things are absolutely different. You’re barely talking.

Sukuna is trying to make conversation with a woman for fuck’s sake. A woman is only good for having sex in his eyes, he shouldn’t be trying to make conversation.

“No.” You answer as you continue to quietly eat your dinner. 

“You’re going to give birth soon, no?” He questions and you shrug. You’ve lost track of time. Winter has just begun… Or is it ending soon? Days all seem the same that you’ve lost track of time. You’re due sometime in the spring, that much you know. “Will you use your words?”

“How do you want me to respond? I don’t know, my dear king?” You respond and he furrows his brows. He doesn’t like the hint of attitude that comes with your words. But there’s something Sukuna knows: beggars can’t be choosers, therefore he won’t reprimand you for speaking to him like that.

“The servants are working on clothes for them.” Sukuna announces, and you don’t react in any way. It’s fine, he didn’t expect you to. Though he won’t lie and say that he isn’t looking at your face to see some sort of excitement at the mention of the babies. He doesn’t know why, but he wants you to get excited about them.

“I’m finished. May I go to sleep?” You question, as you try to get up from your seat– A true struggle lately considering your belly is huge.

“Since when do you care to ask for permission?” He replies, and he’s met with a cold glare.

“I’m your prisoner, am I not?” You respond, and Sukuna realizes that your recent behavior is all tied back to that.

You’ve been having nightmares lately, and it becomes hard for Sukuna to ignore. It’s every night, and he isn’t sure what to do. At first he would simply watch you as you helplessly tossed and turned, but lately they’ve gotten more intense. Sukuna can’t stand and watch.

He’s growing soft, he knows he is. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be holding you to his chest, hand caressing your back. He needs you to rest enough, and that’s not possible if your nightmares get the best of you. If you’re tossing and turning, calling out for help then you’re not resting. 

He wants to know the root of the bad dreams, but he doesn’t care enough to look into the issue. He doesn’t mind this position though, holding you is like holding a little warm ball. He’d never say it outloud, but he’s cold; he won’t shiver or tremble, but he’s still cold.

“Sukuna.” He’s falling asleep, but your soft voice wakes him up. “What are you doing?”

“You have nightmares.” He informs you, as if you were unaware of your own dreams. Is this why you haven’t been waking lately? Has he been comforting you?

“I’m sorry.” You feel the odd need to apologize, something that irritates Sukuna’s ears. It ends up with him scolding you,

“You don’t ever apologize.” Which is quickly followed by another apology from you. He can’t win with you, and it’s fine. He won’t scold you again. Sukuna can’t help but ask, “What have you been dreaming about anyway?”

“Nothing.” You answer, which makes Sukuna put you back down on the futon. Of course you won’t open up so easily, but it frustrates him. His behavior is what dug him into this hole, he shouldn’t care. 

“Do the babies cause you discomfort?” Sukuna questions, and you chuckle.

“When do they not?” You respond. “Falling asleep is a struggle, it’s no surprise I’m having nightmares.”

“Are you having nightmares related to them?” Sukuna questions, and you remain silent. While Sukuna would take that answer as a yes, he isn’t sure this time around. He isn’t great at picking up social cues, but he’s pretty damn sure that he’s on the receiving end of the silent treatment. 

Sukuna takes a long time to think about this weird situation. He asked Uraume about this, but they didn’t have a good answer– Then he asked Hina, an answer that he quickly dismissed. He tries to recall what that answer was.

Then it dawns on him, “A woman dropped off a baby.”

“Your next meal, huh? Enjoy.” You respond, and Sukuna rolls his eyes. You’ve gotten bold, he’ll give you that.

“I don’t eat babies.” He answers. “Babies that are dropped off are raised as servants.”

No answer.

“You can ask Uraume if you want to visit him tomorrow.” Sukuna adds, and your interest is piqued.

“Him? It’s a boy?” You question, and Sukuna hums in response. You furrow your eyebrows, realizing that Sukuna is doing this for a reason. He wants you to look at a baby and think of the children that you grow inside of you. It’s not going to work though, there’s no way in hell that you’ll end up caring for his kids.

“Do you want to meet him or not?” Sukuna presses for an answer, wondering if Hina’s advice is any good. He might just kill her tomorrow if you refuse. Though, you adore Hina and he has to get on your good side so he might just spare her.

“Sure.”

“Uraume, why are you here?” You question when Sukuna's dear servant comes into your room. You rarely see them unless Sukuna is around. Sukuna is tending other business which means that you’re alone– Alone in the sense that he isn’t breathing down your neck, you’re still being watched by everyone else.

“King Sukuna told me you were meeting the baby. He wants me to take you there.” Uraume answers, and you sigh. He’s set on you meeting that baby, he so desperately wants you to change your mind. You can’t help but find it odd, he wants you to love the babies that you grow inside of you.

“Let’s go.” You respond. Uraume gives you a subtle nod before they turn around and leave the room. You follow behind, mentally preparing yourself to not fall for Sukuna’s dumb trick. Perhaps you should’ve turned him down last night, you're not the strongest when it comes to children.

You get to see a side of the palace that you’ve never come across. As you walk past everyone, you’re reminded that you hold some sort of power; a power that you forgot you held since Sukuna is constantly next to you. They bow down to you as you simply walk past them, as if you would actually do something to them.

Uraume leads you to the kitchen, where two women try to calm down the crying baby. Uraume is about to speak, but you shush them before they can say anything. You can read their next move, you don’t want the woman to stop simply to bow down to you.

“Let me hold him.” You tell the women, who have yet to realize who you are. They hand him over to you, desperate for a solution. The sound of a crying baby is absolutely not pleasant.

“Oh, look at you.” You gush at the boy who wails. He’s hungry with no way of feeding. “He’s too young for anything solid, huh?”

“Yes–” One of them speaks, until she realizes who you are. She bows down, and her colleague quickly follows suit. You nearly roll your eyes at the action, as if this wasn’t what you wanted when you asked Sukuna to marry you.

“Stand up.” You order, and they’re hesitant, but they do as you tell them. “What were you saying?”

The women look at each other, afraid of how to proceed. Regardless, they have to answer. “Yes, he’s too young for solids. We’ve never had a baby this young in our quarters, and we’re not sure how to proceed. We need a wet nurse but none of our servants are currently–”

“I’ll do it.” You cut her off as you stare down at the hungry baby. Oh, he looks so much like your Haru, you’d never forgive yourself if the baby died of hunger.

“My queen, that’s not appropriate. King Sukuna would be livid.” Uraume chimes in, though their words fall on deaf ears. 

“Uraume, I’m going back to my room. I’ll tell Hina to give the baby back.” You tell them, bouncing the baby, hoping that the cries die down; you know it’s helpless, the baby won’t stop until he’s fed. 

“My queen–” Uraume begins, but you begin to walk away. You’re smiling at the baby as he cries. Even when he’s crying, he looks so darn cute.

“Oh, how could someone abandon you? You’re so cute.” You tell him, as if you didn’t feel the same way about your babies– And you try not to think about it, but maybe Sukuna’s plan is working. There’s a twinge of guilt as you think about your refusal of loving your babies. 

Maybe the stupid monster has a brain after all.

You lied, you were planning to hand back the baby boy as soon as you fed him, but he’s still in your arms. He looks at you with his beautiful brown wide eyes, and a smile on his face. You can’t let him go. You don’t doubt that he’ll be treated well, but he can have anything he needs right beside your side. Additionally, he makes great company. 

“Oh, that stupid monster’s plan is working.” You mention as the baby yawns in your arms. You can’t fathom the thought of someone leaving this precious baby behind. Except, Sukuna’s sons will be nothing like this calm baby.

“Hina!” You call out, and the woman is in your room within seconds. She bows down her head, and waits for your order. You smile down at the baby in your arms as you tell her, “Get him a warm blanket.”

“King Sukuna–” She begins, but you cut her off before she can finish her sentence. 

“Did I ask about Sukuna?” You question, and she shakes her head. “Then you’ll do as I say. Get him a blanket.”

“Of course.” She responds, nodding her head before walking away. It’s a risk she’s willing to take, even though there’s the possibility that Sukuna won’t be too happy. You were supposed to simply meet the baby, not get attached. There’s nothing she can do now, the matter is out of her hands.

“I hope his babies are as cute as you are.” You murmur as you bounce the baby in your arms. His little eyes are shutting on their own, and you stick out your bottom lip as your little pal begins to drift to sleep.

Hina comes back with a blanket, and you almost snatch it from her hands to cover him. 

“When is the monster coming back?” You ask, knowing that Sukuna is going to force you to give him back. Sure, he suggested the idea but he won’t want you to keep the baby by your side. “Who’s going to feed him if Sukuna takes him from me?”

“I’ve ordered some servants to find a wet nurse, he’ll be fine.” Hina answers but you don’t like that answer. You’re not sure why though, it’s for his own good.

“Can I keep him with me forever?” You’re perhaps a little drastic. You’ve grown attached rather fast– Well, it’s not necessarily hard to grow attached when you’re lonely. 

“My queen, you know that King Sukuna would never allow it.” Hina reminds you, and you can’t help but sigh. She’s not wrong. “Plus, you’re expecting two wonderful babies.”

“They’re not going to be like this…” You comment, and Hina can’t help but chuckle. Babies are babies, whether they’re Sukuna’s kids or not.

“My queen, you do realize that they’re going to be babies.” She responds as your eyes linger on the sleeping baby.

“They’ll pop out with four arms and a tummy mouth—“ You begin, wondering how his babies will end up looking. How much different will they look compared to the rest?

“My queen, you do realize that they’re half of you as well?” She reminds you, and you furrow your eyebrows. They’re also your babies… They will carry your blood whether you accept it or not. “They’re not just King Sukuna’s babies, but yours as well.”

“Of course.” You nod, staring down at the baby. She’s right, even if they come out with four arms and a tummy mouth, they’re still your own blood. Whether you love them or not, won’t change anything.

“He’s here.” Hina informs you as she hears the loud footsteps from far away. For some odd reason, you feel your breath get caught up in your chest, knowing that he’s approaching. 

Hina bows down the moment the door to your room opens, only to not be acknowledged in any way by him. Sukuna’s eyes directly land on you, quickly going to the boy that you hold in your arms. He’s wrapped in a blanket that was made for your sons.

“Get out.” Sukuna says, and Hina stands up to do as he says. Though it’s not quick enough for him, because he proceeds to yell, “Get out!”

“Oh, you’ve woken him up.” You’re annoyed as you hear the crying baby. Just when he’s finally resting, he’s woken up by a screaming monster.

“Why were you feeding that baby?” Sukuna tries not to yell, knowing that he’ll just make matters worse by raising his voice. You’re shushing and bouncing the baby, trying to calm him down. Sukuna won’t be so accepting unless you tell him what he wants to hear.

You’ll tell him whatever he wants to hear.

“Your plan worked.” You tell him, standing up from your seat. The anger from Sukuna fades away, as curiosity overtakes him. “I’ll love your babies.”

His eyes widen, and he feels… Joyous? He’s happy. He likes the fact that his plan worked. Though he doubts that it’s going to be easy. You’re holding a baby in your arms, you must want something more.

“As long as you treat him like your own, I’ll love them.” You respond as you hand the baby to Sukuna. He glares down at the screaming child, wondering how the hell you’ve become so attached to this little human in a matter of hours.

“What?” Sukuna questions, refusing to hold the baby in his arms. You have to repeat yourself,

“Treat him as your own son, and I’ll be the mother you want me to be.”

[lumenhuman]

"Once you get down to it, it's really funny how much our senses lie to us, omitting details to make everything seem so much simpler than it is.

"An open flame looks incredibly simple on the surface. Lashing tangerine whips that peel away at the air, giving rise to smoke and heat for seemingly no reason. At least, to your limited faculties.

"But to control something in the manner of a mage, a true mage, one must understand it, in its entirety. Study it, nurture it, consume and be consumed by it. As you might tell," I raised my arms from underneath my cloak, making a show of the myriad burn scars that plastered my skin oh so beautifully, "I've taken that crucial step, and I'm all the better a wielder of the arcane for it."

"Human," The judge interjected, "I am not here today to absorb the philosophy of a man who's brutally killed thousands of elven POWs." The disgust in his voice was evident. "I've seen the crystal images captured in your camps. Do you truly expect me to believe you caused such suffering with basic fire magic?"

I grinned. I couldn't help it. This was always my favorite part. "I do." I held in a small chuckle. Not yet. "Because you don't know what fire is."

The gallery behind me broke into enraged jeering at the sound of my proclamation. It took a full minute of the judge banging his gavel and shouting "Order!" before the racket died down. Finally, he glared at me from atop his bench once more, before explaining, "It is simply impossible for any human to perform what you've done. Even your strongest mages can't hold a candle to a mid-ranked elven apprentice. So tell me exactly wh-"

"That's just it!" I yelled into the courtroom. I couldn't contain it anymore, I had to speak my mind. I could feel my grin widening, threatening to split my cheeks at the ends. "You pompous twig-eaters have lorded your mastery of magic over mankind for far too long! Your raw power, your mana control, your casting speed, we can't compare to any of it! But you forgot what humans are best at," I let out a single laugh, which echoed through the deathly silent courtroom, before I swiftly contained it. I continued, "We can adapt like no other.

"We live nowhere near as long as you self-righteous pricks. Seven of our generations pass in only a half of one of yours. But we always make the most of our time. We study, and we learn, and we consolidate that knowledge on what those before us discovered, over and over again, until we finally learn the truth. And I," I met the judge's gaze, peering deep into his spirit, searching for the fire, "Am the first to discover it."

The elf sitting in front of me simply asked, "What did you discover?" His voice was a sumptuous mixture of repulsion and morbid curiosity, a cocktail I'd drank many times before whenever I regaled another with my knowledge, and was always fond of.

The hilarity of the situation was getting unbearable. I couldn't help but laugh through my words as I revealed, "Fire doesn't make heat," I fought down another fit of laughter, "It IS heat!"

Both the gallery and the judge simply stared at me, silence covering the room for a precious few seconds while I let them marinate in my knowledge.

The judge was apparently the sharpest one there. I could tell he understood the moment I saw his face of confusion twist into absolute horror.

Yes, YES, YES!

His voice now barely above a whisper, he stuttered, "You... you mean that... that it's...?"

"It's nothing more than a pretty little light show that our eyes use to make sense of the world?" If my feet weren't shackled to the floor I would've approached him, to get a better look at his dying soul. "Because that's all it is. Fire is not a producer, it's a product. You wood-brained aristocrats spend your whole lives so focused on only what you can see and what you can hear, that you never figured it out!

"What we call 'fire' is just a sensory representation of vast amounts of heat. And what is heat, if not pure, unadulterated energy. The force the drives all motion, all change, EVERYTHING that happens in the entire cosmos, happens because of energy. If you control fire, you control heat. If you control heat, you control energy. And if you control energy..."

"STOP!" The judge shouted, livid that his reality was being shattered. A common reaction. "Clearly you're making all of this up! Those pictures must have been faked, scenes staged with illusion magic as a fear tactic!"

Grasping at straws. This questioning never would've happened if that was what the elven high-council believed from the start. I smirked. "If you truly don't believe me, you can always come and remove this restraint collar, and ask me to prove it. It's either that, or accept that the humans are getting stronger than you."

Chaos erupted once again, my challenge being met with mixed response. The screaming only quieted down after the judge pulled out a wand and swiftly cast a silencing spell over the gallery, muting them until they were barely audible.

I kept my mouth shut through the whole ordeal, until the judge was staring daggers at me again. His rage and internal conflict were palpable in his expression, and it took a few minutes for him to make up his mind.

Then another few to cast every warding spell that he knew on himself before he stepped down from the bench.

Aglow with the mana from his wards, he approached the desk where I stood, until he was mere feet from my face. He was a good foot taller than me, but so much thinner, it seemed he would snap in a stiff breeze. His eyes were filled with defiance, a look of absolute certainty that he was right.

It was so lovely. Or rather, what it would become was lovely.

He drew a rune in the air, and I heard the latch of my collar click, before it fell to the ground. I stretched my neck back and forth, getting it used to it's full range of motion again. "You've made the right choice, your honor."

He chuckled, "I knew you couldn't do it."

Before he could react I launched out my right hand directly through all of his wards and grabbed him by the face. "You've given me an entire plater of new subjects!"

I started by boiling his tongue.

The Elf looks down to the lone human mage "You stand trial for warcrimes. Explain how you did it with just fire Magic" he said dismissively. "Well. Have you ever thought how and why fire burns?"

[gold-onthe-inside]

greylist

verb (transitive): to hold (someone) in suspicion, without actually excluding him or her from a particular activity

who? spencer reid (s6, post-JJ, pre-Doyle) x tech analyst!reader summary: when your celebratory drink with penelope is disrupted, you end up at a bar with the person you famously cannot get along with even if you were paid... until you do. based on: request by @brownbunnyb: I’m thinking something along lines of me being Penelope’s best friend and coworker and she sees how much me and Spencer bump heads and she sets me up on a blind date and the guy end up being Spencer (she does it on purpose) and we get a little too tipsy and he invites me over to his place and I stay the night and he confess his feelings bc he assumed I was sleeping word count: 3k a/n: r is an intelligence analyst for the counterintelligence division, and roommates with penelope, famous for not having any of the pleasance and charm that penelope does (the grumpy to her sunshine) and for not getting along with men, including spencer. i may have gotten carried away with it.

You don't get many off days in counterintelligence, but when you find a chain of coded messages about a military officer in Alaska trying to sell classified documents to the Russians, and manipulate him right into the hands of an undercover operative, you have to celebrate somehow. There aren't many easy wins in your line of work, not like Penelope who comes to your shared apartment with an arrest on her belt almost every week, and when you hear the front door close, Penelope walking in with her heels in hand, you have no doubt that she's on a high from a solved case.

"Hey, so I figured we'd leave in 15," you said, stepping out from the bathroom in a sleek black dress with a cut out by your hips, your walk stuttering at the sight of Kevin in the doorway behind Penelope, who was wincing. "And you forgot," you said, unsurprised, your hands falling from your ear where you had just fixed a gold hoop.

"I'm so sorry," Penelope cried, rushing towards you. "I swear, I swear I had it written somewhere that we were going out, but this reservation opened up at L'Auberge, and you know we've been on the waitlist for months--"

You held up your hand, stopping her. "Go," you said, with patience that seemed to be bottomless when it came to Penelope.

"I swear, I will make it up to you right now," Penelope said and you frowned instantly as she pulled out her phone.

"You don't have to--"

"Ba-bup, nothing out of you," Penelope interrupted, picking up the phone. "You're going to a bar. I don't wanna hear any excuses, you still owe me for Friday. You will be there by 7." She looked to you. "7?"

You shrugged helplessly, glancing at Kevin who just seemed amused by his girlfriend.

"Where are you going?" Penelope repeated the question, then looked at you.

"Crown and Crow," you said, knowing better than to get in Penelope's way, watching her as she repeated it to the phone, then snapped it shut, looking at you with a giddy smile.

"Okay, have fun, don't be mean, and have a cute cocktail on me," Penelope said, kissing your cheek, leaving a smear of lip gloss. "You deserve the win," she said, then promptly disappeared off to the bathroom to change for her own date.

You looked at Kevin. "Home by midnight, no more than three drinks, capiche?" you said, firmly and he held up his hands in surrender to you.

"I couldn't afford it," he said and you nodded, satisfied. You slipped into your classic black pumps, grabbed your purse, keys, and a black coat before stepping out, the door closing before you remember to ask Penelope who your date for the night was.

You're on your first drink when he arrived, almost spitting it out at the sight of Spencer as he searched the bar for Penelope. If you rush into the bathroom, maybe you don't have to deal with him tonight… but then he spots you, and frowns as he raised a hand before walking over. "No Penelope?"

"Date with Kevin," you replied, not hiding your sourness. Don't be mean, my ass. This is her making it up to me?

"Oh," he said, looking confused. "So… why am I here?"

"Evidently, Pen's playing matchmaker tonight," you said, keeping your voice even and he sighed.

"Should've figured," he said quietly, then gestured to the empty seat beside her. "May I?"

"Since you're here," you replied, sipping your rum and coke.

"I take it I'm not who you expected," he said as he flagged the bartender for a soda.

"Given the history of our interactions, no, you're not." You watched his arm fall to the oak bar, his hazel eyes on you, sparkling darkly in the low amber light.

"Disappointed?" he asked and you took a breath in.

"It's not all you," you said, tipping the glass as you take a sip. "Supposed to be celebrating an op, but Penelope bailed."

"Criswell's case?" he asked and you sighed, his question stinging like the back of your throat.

"Criswell's case," you scoffed. "I do all the work and he's the one they credit? I swear to God, you Special Agents--"

"It's hardly my fault that Criswell's name gets put on the report. He was the arresting officer--"

"Only because I led the guy right to him," you argued, looking at Spencer and then you just sighed. "You don't get it. You're not an intelligence analyst."

"No, I do," he insisted. "I know you think we all come home with wins every week, but it's not me, or the BAU, or even the FBI that gets the credit. It's the local police department who can't pull their heads out of the asses, sorry, long enough to realise that all they need is to empathise to catch their killers."

You looked at him, with a mix of surprise and respect, and a little amusement at his apology after saying 'asses', and he ran out of steam at your look. "T-The point is, I get it," he continued. "You probably don't sleep for days, and if you do, it's not enough. You're probably going to suffer from debilitating eye strain in your 70s, and all for some half-wit tactical analyst to get the credit. You're right to be pissed, but getting mad at me isn't gonna get you anywhere."

You wet your stained lips, downing the rest of your glass, and stare at it for a moment. "I've been kind of unfair to you, haven't I?" you asked, looking at him.

Spencer looked at his clear glass, bubbles of soda rising to the surface. "Kind of feels diminutive," he said and you laugh, a brightness in your eyes that wasn't there a minute ago.

"Be grateful I admitted anything at all," you said and he nodded graciously.

"Of course. Thank you for the bare minimum," he said and you huff.

"Look at that, the robot knows sarcasm," you teased and he made an offended noise before watching you snicker. "So, just the soda or are you gonna drink something stronger?"

"Just the soda," he said and you know better than to ask as you order yourself a mojito. "So, how did you do it?" Spencer asked. "How'd you track him down?"

You shrugged, not particularly in a bragging mood. "It wasn't that hard, really. I already had an alert set up for requests for encryption keys, and there was no reason for this military officer in Alaska to request them. He didn't have the clearance or approval from someone who did to have eyes on it. All I did was figure out what he wanted access to and fudge it and put a code in so I could track the user before giving him the encryption key. Then it was just a matter of posing as a buyer for the intel."

"Child's play," Spencer remarked dryly, his lips curling and you shrugged.

"If you can learn sarcasm, I can learn humility," you said, sipping your mojito and it was his turn to laugh quietly.

"It's a new look on you," he said, meeting your gaze, and you're not sure if it's the rum, but there's a moment of tension, and you're half-convinced he's leaning in to kiss you when your phone beeped and it shatters like you've dropped your glass. You fumbled through your purse for your cell, pulling it out to find a text message from Penelope.

Penny: Kevin's staying the night.

How was this night getting worse by the minute?

You: Can't you go to his place?

No reply. It turned out your bottomless patience wasn't so limitless, and Spencer could tell.

"Problem?" he asked, raising his soda to finish it.

"It appears I'm homeless for the night," you replied, downing your entire mojito in one go.

"Hey, hey, slow down," he insisted, pulling the glass away from you, but it was just mint and ice now. "What do you mean?"

You grasped Spencer's shoulder. "See, Data, when two people go out on a date, which is a kind of human mating ritual, one of them offers their habitat to copulate in, never mind the other females who maybe sharing said habitat," you said, mocking and he swatted your hand away, knowing you well enough to know you were just projecting your irritation on to him.

"You could just say that Garcia was taking Kevin home, you don't have to be so--"

"Mean?" you asked hollowly and Spencer pursed his lips.

"Hostile," he replied and you nodded.

"It's fine, I'll just flirt with someone and let them take me to their place," you said, slipping off your seat.

"Hey, no," Spencer said firmly, his hands loosely grasping your arms. "A) you're drunk--"

"I had two drinks--"

"And B) Penelope would kill me if I let you become one of our cases. You can stay with me."

"What? No," you protested. "I'm mean and unfair to you, why would you--"

"Because no matter how much disdain you hold for me, I'm not actually a bad guy," he said patiently. "Can you honestly tell me you trust anyone else in this bar to not take advantage of you?"

You sucked your cheek in and sighed. "No," you said petulantly, and Spencer stood up, holding your coat up for you to help you into it.

He doesn't drive and you share Esther with Penelope who needed it tonight, so you're on the Metro back to his place, Spencer's hand on your waist keeping you standing until there's a place to sit. You realise, rather dully, that if you weren't wearing your coat, his hand would have found the cut-out of your waist, and you wonder what it feels like. "I'm never drinking rum again," you murmured. Clearly, it was poisoning your mind.

"Sure, you won't," he said dryly, standing in front of you and you have to look up at him to see his eyes.

"You're really tall," you said, distastefully. You don't like having to crane your neck just to look at him… not that you like looking at him. It's easier to be mean, you decide, when you can look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry, the doctor said there's no cure for it," he replied, clearly mocking.

"I could always lop your knees off," you said helpfully, smiling up at him and he snorted.

"I think they've been through enough." He watched the frown form on your forehead, and, stupid impulse, he moved his hand to smooth it out. "I was shot in the knee a couple years ago," he explained. "Reconstructive surgery."

"Must make kneeling hard," you said without thinking and he tilted his head at you, his hand returning to your waist.

"Was that a joke?" he asked and you shook your head.

"No, I'm just--" The train jolted and Spencer grabbed your hips before you could fall, your hands on his arms. "Embarrassing," you finished as he righted you, then guided your hands to the pole. He was warm, smelling like Irish espresso. It must be nice, being his girlfriend, smelling that all the time. What is wrong with me?

The rest of the ride is silent, and then he's guiding you out of the carriage and onto the station closest to his apartment. He tapped both your metro cards, which you don't remember giving to him, before walking out of the subway with his hand on the small of your back, and you're out of quips and clever things to say. You didn't think that was possible, but maybe the train jolted it out of you. Or maybe the rum did. But you're silent all the way to his apartment, and a little curious about how he lives.

He lets you in, letting go of your waist, and you don't see how his hand clenches, too busy taking the apartment in. The wall's a lovely green and he has lamps that remind you of old libraries with the green steel shade, and he has bookshelves everywhere, nothing with a contemporary cover on it. They're all old hardbounds that you're compelled to touch reverently, foreign titles that you're able to decipher. "Of course you have War and Peace in the original Russian," you scoffed, tracing the golden Russian letters while he set your purse down on his coffee table.

"You can read it?" he asked, surprised and you look at him with narrowed eyes.

"How do you think I posed as a Russian buyer of international secrets?" you asked and he held his hands up in surrender.

"My bad," he admitted, trying not to look impressed. But it was the truth, you were impressive. It was impressive enough how skilled you were at coding and creating algorithms, able to take over for Penelope without complaint from anyone but Derek who would get shut down every time he tried to call you baby girl. In a lot of ways, you were like Penelope, always ready with a pop-culture reference and a barb, preferring steel over sexual innuendo. In the early days, he had been sensitive to it, avoiding you when he could, but he'd seen your softer side when Penelope had been shot, how you'd been unafraid to yell at Rossi for pushing the boundaries of interrogation with her. He knew you were kind, really, you just weren't very generous with it.

He filled up a glass of water, walking over to you, doing his best to keep his gaze off your waist as he passed it to you, noticing you perusing the Art of War… in the original Chinese. "Don't tell me… Chinese too?"

"Kind of a prerequisite for counterintelligence," you said, swapping the book for the water, and an uncomfortable expression flashed across your face, shifting in your heels. He was an idiot, he should have noticed it. You were standing for so long in the train. You frowned as he knelt silently, hand grasping your ankle and you lifted your heel so he could take it off. One, then the other. "Thanks," you said quietly, unused to his kindness.

"It's not that hard," he said, standing up, putting your heels by your purse.

"What is?" you asked and he looked back at you.

"Kneeling," he said simply and it's stupid but your heart stops for a second, caught off-guard. "I'm gonna get you something more comfortable to wear. Finish that."

Oh, this was not good. You were not going to catch feelings for a man you've told everyone you know, which is mostly Penelope, and by association Kevin, that you hate. Your phone beeps and you pick it up.

Penny: Talked to Emily, you can stay at hers.

Escape. Emily can pick you up, you get along with Emily just fine, Emily's not a tall brunet with hazel eyes and makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. Emily's safe. You could be safe… or you could be with Spencer.

You: Don't bother, I'm already at Spencer's. You owe me so big.

You simply hope it sounds more casual and unbothered than you feel.

"So, I couldn't find anything that fit-" he started and you flinched as he walked back into the room, holding sweats and a t-shirt, almost dropping your glass, and he looked at you with wide eyes. "Sorry, carpeted floors," he said, assuming that was why you were so startled, and walked over, swapping your empty glass with the clothes. "They'll have to do, I'm afraid."

You nodded. "Bathroom?"

"Inside, on your left," he said, frowning as you rushed away.

You have to roll up the legs of the pants so you can actually walk in them, too afraid to ask for shorts for the fear that he might just hand you a pair of boxers, and then you really would crack, just like that.

You stepped out eventually, finding him setting up the couch with blankets and pillows, and he looked at you, his expression unreadable in the low light. "I know, they're baggy and I look awful."

"No," he said quickly, sitting on the couch. "You don't. Look awful, that is. Even if they are baggy."

"Right," you said, if only to move on to something else. "Um… do you have any cotton balls or something? I have all this make-up--"

"Sure, yeah," he said, moving and almost tripping over the coffee table in his rush to service you.

"--wouldn't want to ruin your pillows," you said to deaf ears, following him with a frown as he retrieves a cosmetic bag from his dresser. "Why do you have that?"

"Uh…" He looked at you with a wincing expression. "Halloween," he said, hoping it would suffice, and it did. You've seen him come into work at the end of every October with props and gimmicks. Emily ended up pawning off a Baba Yaga head to you that still hangs in your cubicle. You've named her Meredith.

"Right," you replied and he handed it to you.

"What, no clever retort?" he asked and you shook your head.

"No, I think the cosmetic bag speaks for itself," you said, showing him the pumpkin shaped cartoons on it, and he sighed.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he said dryly and you snickered as you headed to the bathroom.

"Does Morgan know about your clown make-up?" you asked and he lingered in the doorway.

"Please don't," he begged, watching you dab removal cream on the pad and wipe your make-up away. You're teasing and mean, hostile and snappish, but you're not cruel. You've kept secrets for him before, like the magazine cover of him and Lila from 2005 that Emily almost finds if not for you distracting her with a linguistic question, your hand stealthily picking it out of his drawer, and then tossing it to him when she turned her back.

"Depends, do you have clown shoes somewhere in your closet?" you asked, smiling as you ridicule him.

"No, the shoes I rented, the nose I own, the hair I spraypainted," he said and you look at him.

"Seriously?" you asked with a giddy grin. "Please tell me there are pictures."

"What? No!" he retorted, in that high pitch where you know he's lying, "Even if there were, why would I show you?"

"Because you know I can find them anyway," you retorted.

"Not if they're not digital," he snapped back, thinking he's pulled a fast one until he sees your devious grin. "No. Absolutely not."

"You've made a horrible mistake letting me into your home," you said, grinning giddily.

"You're a terrible person," he said, blocking your way bodily. "Sadistic, twisted, horrible--"

"I'm gonna find it," you said, stepping towards him.

"Not if I lock you in here all night," he said, but it was weak, he knew it was. He'd cave the minute he heard your pleading voice, or pretending to vomit. You tilt your head at him.

"Show me the pictures, Spencer," you said and his shoulders sag.

"Alright, come on," he said, resigned, leading you to the bedroom and pulling at a locked drawer in his desk before picking up the album. You plopped onto the bed, curling your feet up underneath you, Spencer sliding into bed beside you with the album on his thighs. "Please don't be mean," he asked, looking at you with a pleading look.

"If I don't have something nice to say, I won't speak," you promised, and he opens it up, knowing it's the best you can offer. You instantly clap a hand over your mouth at the sight of ten year old Spencer dressed like a Russian gymnast. So, he was that extra as a kid too.

"You… dressed like that all night, and you survived?" you asked, looking at him and he shrugged.

"I didn't actually do much trick-or-treating. But my mom would help me make my costume and I'd watch scary movies when she was asleep."

There's a Ghostbuster's costume, a vampire costume, a Frankenstein costume, all creative and handmade, and you watch Spencer age through the photographs, until he's 14 and you're half-asleep on his shoulder.

A fondness warms his chest as he tucked hair behind your ear. He's never seen you unmade like this. You weren't as flamboyant as Penelope (you once said Bowie wasn't as flamboyant as Penelope), usually in greys, browns and blacks, with plain jewellery and simple make-up, and tonight had only gone up in tone by your eyeshadow, grey and silver, with black eyeliner.

But now? You looked vulnerable and pretty, unarmed, and he carefully laid you against the pillow. Maybe he thinks he'll get over it if he says it, or 'manifest' it like Penelope says, and it's not exactly a heavy thing he says, but he whispered it as he stroked your hair back in place.

"I wish you liked me as much as I like you."

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Ok hear me out… jealous Lando. You’re Landos best friend since childhood as you’re fathers are not only business partners but best friends since university and so and Lando spent a lot of time growing up and he never liked sharing you from Kindergarden during you’re first boyfriend until today he has a hard time when he thinks that someone could challenge his status as you’re favorite person it got better when Lando started traveling a lot and was in his own relationships but when he finds out that you’re seeing Kygo (the DJ) he try’s to hide his jealousy and be happy for his two friends thinking that it’s only an fling and won’t last long but as the months go on and the Miami GP comes around and you all spend the time together in the paddock and later an party Lando realizes that he was probably wrong and he can’t help but get extremely jealous.Much Love❤️

everyone knew except you two

Lando Norris had always been your constant. He was your best friend before you even knew what friendship meant. Your fathers had met in university, and through their shared love of racing and business, a bond had formed that would tie your lives together forever. As children, you and Lando had spent nearly every day together, from playdates at his family’s house to sleepovers at yours, both of you oblivious to how intertwined your lives were becoming.

It was never normal to have Lando around all the time, but you never knew life without him. He was the first person you ran to when you scraped your knee or when you passed your driving test, the first person you celebrated with when you aced a test. But it wasn’t just his presence you adored—it was his protectiveness. Lando was the one who always had your back, no matter what. Even as kids, he was fiercely protective, not just of your feelings, but of your heart.

From the very beginning, Lando made it clear: no one could have you but him.

There was that one time in kindergarten when a little boy named Max had tried to hold your hand during nap time. Lando—who was already a few months older than you—had stormed over to Max, pushed him away, and declared, “If you ever touch her again, I’ll make sure you can’t walk straight for a week.” Max, terrified, ran off, and Lando proudly sat next to you, holding your hand as if he’d just saved the world.

It wasn’t just that time. Throughout your childhood, whenever a boy had the audacity to show interest in you, Lando would find a way to intimidate them into backing off, sometimes even going as far as threatening them with his ‘impressive’ racing skills or inventing rumors about how he could get them into trouble. His jealousy was always there, but it was subtle, hidden beneath the surface of his grins and jokes.

As the years passed, though, the jealousy never faded—it only grew more complex.

As you grew older, you and Lando kept a tight bond, but something started to change when you reached high school. That’s when Lando first noticed how your attention shifted. The world became bigger, and so did your interests. You were no longer the child he could protect from the world’s dangers. Instead, you were blossoming into someone who had ideas, dreams, and, inevitably, love interests of your own.

Lando didn’t know what to do when you first got a boyfriend. He didn’t like it. But instead of voicing his concerns, he retreated into a grumpy shell. He told himself he was being ridiculous, that you deserved to date and be happy. But every time he saw you with him, laughing, smiling, Lando felt that old jealousy flare inside him, though he tried to bury it.

It wasn’t until you got your first kiss, under the glow of the streetlights in your neighborhood, that Lando’s jealousy reached its peak. You’d come back to his house, giddy and glowing, and he had acted like nothing was wrong. But inside, he had felt something shift that he didn’t know how to name.

“You kissed him, huh?” Lando had asked casually as he slouched on the couch, his eyes narrowing as you nodded, blushing slightly.

“Yeah… It was… nice,” you said, your voice soft.

Lando had nodded. “Well, just make sure you’re not going to regret it.” He’d quickly turned his head to the TV to avoid showing how hard his heart was beating.

But it wasn’t until you started seeing Kygo—the famous DJ—that things really began to change.

You and Lando had always shared everything, but there was something different about Kygo. He was a DJ, an internationally known figure, someone who moved in different circles than you and Lando had ever been a part of. At first, when you casually told Lando about him, he dismissed it. “He’s just a fling,” he had said, trying to sound convincing.

But as weeks turned into months, Lando realized that this wasn’t just a fling. You were serious about Kygo, and Lando was struggling to come to terms with the fact that this man—this stranger—was taking up more and more of your time and attention. Every time you’d show up to the paddock for a race or post photos on social media with Kygo, Lando felt like his place in your life was slowly being pushed to the edge.

He tried to hide it, to ignore the gnawing feeling of jealousy that made his stomach twist when he saw you smile at Kygo in a way that he hadn’t seen you smile at him in years. It wasn’t fair. He’d always been there for you. He had earned that smile, hadn’t he?

The Miami GP weekend was the tipping point for Lando. You, Lando, and Kygo had all decided to spend time together after the race. You were in the paddock, hanging out as friends, but Lando could see how much you and Kygo were enjoying each other’s company. The two of you had a chemistry that he couldn’t ignore. He tried to focus on the race, on his car, on the things he usually loved, but his mind kept wandering back to the way you laughed with Kygo, the way you touched his arm when you talked, how he had his arm draped around you like he owned you.

It made Lando’s blood boil.

Later that evening, the three of you went to a party. The music blared from the speakers, the crowd was a blur of flashing lights and people moving to the beat, but Lando’s attention was fixed on you. He couldn’t tear his gaze away. You looked stunning, laughing with Kygo, your hands brushing his shoulder as you danced.

Every time you and Kygo got too close, Lando felt the sharp stab of jealousy in his chest. He didn’t want to feel this way. He shouldn’t feel this way. But the truth was becoming undeniable. You were slipping away from him, and Lando couldn’t bear it.

At one point, you caught his eye across the room, your smile brightening. “Lando!” you called, waving him over. He forced a grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You pulled him into the conversation with Kygo, your two worlds colliding, and Lando suddenly felt more like an outsider than ever before. Every time you laughed at something Kygo said, or when he leaned in close to whisper in your ear, it was like a knife twisting deeper into his heart.

“Are you okay?” you asked him later, once Kygo had stepped away to get drinks. “You’re being really quiet tonight.”

Lando didn’t know how to answer. He didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to admit that he was jealous of his best friend’s boyfriend. That he didn’t want to share you with anyone.

“I’m fine,” he muttered. “Just tired, I guess.”

But you didn’t buy it. You could always tell when something was off with Lando. “You sure? You know you can tell me anything.”

Lando hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously to Kygo, who was now talking to someone else across the room.

“I guess I’m just… not used to seeing you like this,” he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “With him.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” Lando began, searching for the right words, “we’ve always been close. But now… now it’s like you’re distracted. I don’t know. I don’t like it.”

There was silence between you for a moment, and for the first time that night, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes.

“Lando,” you said softly, taking a step closer to him. “You’ll always be my best friend. Nothing’s going to change that.”

But Lando shook his head, his jaw tightening. “I don’t think you understand, Y/N. I don’t want to just be your best friend anymore. I can’t do it. I’ve always been there for you. But seeing you with him… it just… it hurts.”

And in that moment, Lando realized what he had known for years but had never allowed himself to admit. You were meant for him. And only him.

You stared at him for a long moment, your eyes wide with surprise and something else—realization. It was as if everything clicked into place for both of you in that instant.

“I… I didn’t know,” you whispered.

Lando took a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can’t keep pretending that I’m okay with you being with someone else. You’re meant to be with me.”

And there it was. The truth that neither of you had been brave enough to say until now.

[ludosgd]

IRREDEAMABLE TIME PALS

Played one hour of this and yeah it's really charming.

The artstyle complements the tone very well. You feel in every corner of the world that this place is DOOMED doomed, but the game allows itself to be funny and quirky at times. My favorite thing is Lady's character design, she has metal claws that pop out of her purple dress to attack, that's, like, objectively cool!

The mechanics are a bit janky sometimes but nothing that gets in the way of actually playing the game. The movement surprised me with its depth; you can crawl, make a big jump from the crawl, a dashing jump, you can even roll-dodge. And that's only in the beginning. You actually unlock MORE movement options as you progress. I found myself skipping enemies often after I became familiar with the gameplay loop, but you do actually have to engage with the level to beat it, so it's not like combat is completely skippable. It's always encouraged and sometimes it's the best course of action.

This brings me to the game design; someone cooked here. At first I thought I could just spam attack and beat my enemies, but there's careful thought on both level design and game design. The levels' layout is pretty fun; you get to use your movement kit pretty well, and also making enemies fall in pits is pretty funny. The bossfights are fun. The first one was nothing to write home about, but I liked some of the attacks. It definitely encouraged you to move around; as I progressed, bossfights became more interesting. I caught myself having to strategize and to understand how to beat a certain bossfight section, and it was satisfying to "crack the case." Good stuff!

I enjoyed the writing, especially some of the characters' personalities, my only criticism would be on the spelling: sometimes there are typos, which is a shame since I am interested in what they're saying!!! I cannot stress enough however how these issues aren't all that serious: the characters have heart, I loved especially the "The end is near" girl, her character growth is very sweet.

I strongly recommend giving the game a try. It is FREE and it is like 100MB and it also features a CANNON (favorite weapon so far); it has a surprising amount of depth, both lore-wise and mechanic-wise. It is a complete experience and I want to remind you that it was made by ONE PERSON through sheer force of will, of wanting to make this game exist. The passion behind this game is commendable, and the game itself is well worth your time.

By the way I played an older version I already installed months ago. The game got improved and there is also a "Give me your money edition" on itch for which you can donate if you so feel inclined.

Enjoy, play Irredeamable, and have a wonderful day!

Irredeamable is out!

Trailer Music: Destiny by Alexandr Zhelanov https://www.youtube.com/c/AlexandrZhelanovsMusic

Play Irredeamable on Gamejolt here! Or play it on Itch.io Here!

About Irredeamable

Irredeamable is my latest project, a semi-linear action-adventure game, where you control this little bundle of anger and angst in her quest to recover her lost powers and bring forth the end of the world.

Join Irredeamable Gamejolt community here! Follow me on twitter here!

The game has a heavy emphasis on combat, with a bit of platforming, and a whole lot of boss fights. There is also some mysterious lore to be uncovered by those willing to brave the world's deepest, darkest depths. My main goal with this account is to spread awareness of the game as i work on it. I'll post threads about the game content, characters, and world, with occasional distractions such as my unhinged game design thoughts and ideas. Don`t hesitate to share thoughts and engage, i love nothing more than to talk about writing and game design.

[joeyfranchise]

all tangled up in the moon

justin herbert x fem!reader

summary: you finally began feeling open to dating in your new home of sunny la, especially since your best friend didn’t love you back the way you loved him… unless he did? a telling double date begins unraveling feelings that you didn’t know were shared…

warnings: pining/mutual pining. expressions of feelings. a LOT of fluff. explicit sexual content, MDNI. 18+ only.

word count: 6.3k.

note: my first ever justin fic!! based on so many ideas from my bestie @joeyburrrow, also happy belated birthday btw 🫂 i’m sorry i didn’t get it posted yesterday! but, she and i have talked about so much of this and this fic truly is for her. ALSO— FOR THE PURPOSE OF THIS FIC ONLY— i made justin allergic to walnuts. idk if he is or not, but it’ll make sense when you get there. i hope you like this. love you all. 💗

the dating pool in los angeles was nothing short of horrible.

sure, there were tons of people, which meant tons of options… but that also lead to some problems. there was so much diversity around, which again, is great… but it often led to mismatched partners and having trouble finding someone with all of the same interests or morals or values as you.

that being said, while messing around on dating apps, you found yourself a date that ticked more of your boxes than anyone else had since you moved to the sunny city.

his name was damon, and he worked at a law firm that wasn’t too far from your own nine-to-five job. his profile said he was 6’2, in his pictures he displayed a beautiful smile, and his interests were similar enough to yours that you figured why not give it a chance?

when you swiped right he’d messaged you nearly immediately, which could’ve been a red flag, but he kept it sweet and professional. his personality shined through his messages and you found yourself genuinely laughing at some of his jokes, and that was always a good sign.

you ran into one little problem though. you didn’t really know anyone else in l.a. except for your best friend, therefore you didn’t have many people to trust. sure, you had coworkers and acquaintances in the office, but none of them were around you enough to be able to vet through suitors from your dating life to let you know who would work and who wouldn’t.

you were also afraid to go out with someone new alone, and you blamed that on being an introvert. you ultimately made the decision that either damon would have to be okay with your first date being a double date, or you just wouldn’t go. when damon agreed it was fine, you called justin worriedly - this was going to be the hard part.

he picked up after two rings.

“is this the krusty krab?” you asked teasingly, smiling as you heard him huff out a brief laugh. he lowered his voice before answering.

“no, this is patrick.”

“yeah, justin patrick,” you teased, “unless i called the wrong brother.” you chewed on your bottom lip as you heard him chuckle again.

“that’s my name! don’t wear it out.” he joked. you could practically see the dumb grin already etched across his face. you remained silent for a moment, the weight of the question weighing on you. when you didn’t respond, justin took the lead of the conversation again.

“hey, y/n? you okay? not that i mind you calling me, of course i don’t mind… but did you need something? is everything alright?” you appreciated his ability to talk you down in moments like this, it was like he could sense your nerves even from miles away, and over a phone call.

“i’m okay. but i have a tiny favor to ask. you know you’re my most favorite best friend in the wholeee world, right?” you laughed, trying to push past the anxiety of the question you needed to ask him. “i do. what’s the favor?”

“i have a date friday night and i’ve never met him before. i didn’t know anyone else to ask and.. i was hoping maybe you and chloe could come along? like a double date?”

justin and chloe had started seeing each other recently, and you liked her enough not to really worry about their relationship. sure, she was living your dream being with justin, but you practically knew he didn’t feel the same about you. while you were completely and utterly in love with him, he still saw you as his best friend, and you had learned to accept it.

when you first met chloe you knew she wasn’t his type, she was completely different from justin… but he seemed happy, and that’s all you ever wanted for him. she was excited to meet you too, and in the few times you’d seen her since she was always genuine and kind.

“i think we can make that work, i should be out of practice in time. i’ll let chloe know and then we can figure out where to go. there’s a new restaurant downtown she and i went to a few weeks ago, you’d love it. they have really good raspberry cheesecake!” he said.

“oooh my favorite!” you cheered, already daydreaming of the delicious confection.

“i know.” he agreed. you smiled on the other end of the line, the way he knew you from cover to cover made your heart ache. you only hoped damon - and if not him, then whoever was destined for you - could be such a wonderful lover to you. someone who truly cared to learn everything there was to know about you, just like you and justin did with each other, even if only as friends.

you and justin talked for a bit longer over menial things before you ended the call, bidding him a goodnight. you made sure to text damon about your plans, letting him know you’d get back to him about a time as soon as you could.

he was excited for your date, and also excited to meet justin. you learned damon was a big fan of sports, and even though he wasn’t a chargers fan, he still really liked justin and thought he was a great player. he didn’t believe you when you first told him justin was your best friend, you had to provide him with photo evidence. the whole ordeal made you laugh. after chatting briefly with damon you put your phone on your bedside table before rolling over and getting cozy under your blankets.

you went to bed with a smile on your face that night, excited for your date with damon and also excited for him to meet your best friend.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

you sailed through the week on a high, and when friday night came you were still feeling ecstatic. you were still a little anxious about going out and meeting damon in person for the first time, but getting to know him through the week had helped you warm up a little and let your guard down.

you decided on wearing a simple black dress, classy yet not too-fancy. you curled your hair and applied a light layer of makeup before slipping on a pair of strappy black heels.

you planned on meeting justin and chloe at the restaurant at seven, giving everyone enough time to get ready and allowing justin to shower and freshen up after practice.

damon picked you up at six-thirty. he met you at your door with flowers which you graciously accepted, and you excused yourself to bring them inside and put them in water before locking up and going with damon to his car.

he opened your door for you and you slid in, buckling your seatbelt as you waited for him to get in and start the engine. it was a bit chilly out and you were grateful when damon turned up the heat before backing out of your driveway and heading to the restaurant.

you chatted with him on the drive and it was pretty pleasant, you were thankful that the conversation between you both flowed easily. you learned that his favorite football team was the los angeles rams, and you joked with him that he’d need to let you out of the car immediately because you wouldn’t stand for that nonsense.

he laughed heartily at your joke. he talked to you more about his job, you learned he was a paralegal and that he’d been in the profession for nearly four years. you told him about your experience working in human resources and you related over shared experiences.

when you arrived to the restaurant damon parked and came around to open your door, and you were quickly met by justin and chloe. damon and justin shook hands and introduced themselves to each other as you greeted chloe.

“i love your dress!” she smiled, you thanked her. “you look incredible too, chloe!”

she wore a light blue dress that came down mid-thigh and had long sleeves. she wore black heels as well, and you loved the glittery eyeshadow she had put on.

the four of you walked into the restaurant and justin spoke to the host about reservations he had so graciously called in - which you thanked him immensely for. the host led your party to a table toward the back of the restaurant and you all sat. damon made sure to pull out your chair, and justin did the same for chloe.

the waitress came by shortly after for your drink orders, you and justin both got water. chloe ordered a riesling and damon ordered a cabernet, which you found amusing. you didn’t say anything about it, though.

the waitress brought your drinks quickly and she also brought a basket of bread for the table, with little cups of cinnamon butter. you indulged in one as you listened to justin and damon begin chatting about football.

you and chloe began to chime in at times, and the atmosphere was nice. you and damon also engaged in your own quiet conversation every now and then, and you were starting to like it every time he’d flash you his award winning smile… until justin would smile at you from across the table. in those moments, you knew who your heart truly belonged to.

a few times during dinner the conversations would ebb off, or the input from chloe and damon would stop, leaving only you and justin talking to each other.

the waitress brought your food and you all began dining, while still chatting here and there about work and sports and things of that nature. the waitress came back around a bit later to take plates and your dessert orders. the men continued to talk while you and chloe ordered, with you asking for cheesecake and chloe ordering a fudgy brownie.

something damon said reminded justin of something he needed to tell you, and he turned his attention toward you quickly.

“y/n, i was meaning to tell you that my uncle had some students interested in trying to make a car run on vegetable oil.” you laughed at his statement before giving your input.

“so what, they want to install a second fuel tank i’m assuming? so the vehicle can run on diesel til it’s hot enough and then they’ll switch to the oil?” you ask. “yeah exactly. i thought it sounded pretty cool.” justin smiles. “sounds like a waste of time to me.” you say amusedly. justin tilts his head and gives you a questioning glance.

“it’s totally not a waste of time. if they can figure out how to do it, it’ll be pretty sick.” he disagrees. damon glances between you before chiming in. “i think it’d be pretty cool too!” he agrees with justin.

“do you know how many times they’d have to filter the oil before they could even use it? and they’d have to make sure to install a solenoid valve to switch between two fuel tanks. too much work.” you say, crossing your arms and looking back and forth between both men. chloe says nothing, you assume she has no idea what any of you are talking about.

you noticed damon checking the time on his phone before sliding it back into his pocket and rejoining your conversation, but mostly listening to you and justin bicker.

“it totally reminded me of that 70s show though, you know? when hyde says ‘there’s this car…. and it runs on water, man!’” justin laughs, doing a pretty decent impression of the character.

“i just feel like making modifications to your car so it could run off vegetable oil is a waste of time.” you say, leaning back slightly in your chair. justin’s girlfriend looks between the two of you with an odd look on her face, only breaking focus when she sees the waitress approaching again.

“here’s the double chocolate brownie with vanilla ice cream,” she says, placing the plate in front of chloe, “and here are the slices of raspberry cheesecake.”

she places the plate in front of you and damon is quick to grab it, sliding his piece of cheesecake onto one of the extra serving plates. chloe picks her fork up excitedly, slicing into the brownie and taking a small bite. her eyes roll as she tastes it, the richness of the chocolate has to be delectable. you watch as she cuts another small bite, this time more toward the center of the brownie where you can see it has small pieces of walnut in it.

she reaches over to cup justin’s jaw, squeezing a bit to get him to open his mouth so she can feed it to him. you ignore the slightly jealous feeling bubbling in your stomach as she brings it closer to his mouth, but you can’t get your words out. justin looks at her with a puzzled expression. he hadn’t been paying attention to her or what she ordered, so he has no idea what she’s about to feed him.

as if on instinct, your hand shot across the table and closed around her wrist, stopping her from feeding him. “s-sorry.. uh, justin is allergic to walnuts.” you say, lowering your gaze so you don’t make eye contact with her. she lets go of his jaw and he shrugs sheepishly.

“sorry baby.” she tells him, eating the bite for herself. “it’s okay.” justin replies. his eyes find yours for a fleeting moment, nervous energy is shared between you. damon watches the entire ordeal silently, passing glances between the three of you as he eats his dessert.

you pick up your fork and take a bite too, and the tartness of the raspberry dances across your tongue in a pleasant way. justin was right with his recommendation, this restaurant truly is amazing. damon and justin begin conversing again, and you stay quiet as you eat, listening attentively.

chloe chimes in a few times, earning laughs from both men with her unintentional humor. you slide the last bite of cheesecake on your fork and bring it to your lips, ready to enjoy it, when suddenly your fork is plucked from your hand. you look up to find justin eating the last bite straight off of your fork. yours.

while you’re on a double date. with other people.

your gaze quickly flips from justin to chloe and then to damon as you try to gauge their expressions. damon doesn’t seem to notice or care as he continues talking about football, and justin nods along with what damon is saying as if this ordeal was the most normal thing that has ever happened.

sure, you and justin are close enough to eat off each others forks and sometimes even drink from the same cup or can, but the fact that he did it on a double date baffled you. neither of the men at the table seemed to be giving it a second thought, but when your gaze shifts to chloe you can tell she’s perturbed in some way. her eyes are slightly squinted as she looks you up and and down, and then her gaze shifts to justin as she does the same to him.

you continue to sit quietly at the table, listening to the men talk. chloe stays quiet, too. the tension between the two of you feels almost palpable.

you would never want to come between her and justin, even if you did have feelings for him throughout all these years.

the rest of the time spent in the restaurant went by in a blur. eventually damon and justin stopped talking, realizing that you and chloe hadn’t shared a word, and they mutually decided that dinner should be over.

damon and justin split the checks and pay before each of you stand from the table to leave. when you make it outside you suck in a deep breath of the fresh air, you’ve felt like you were suffocating for the last fifteen minutes. all of you say goodbye to each other before you get into damon’s car, and chloe into justin’s.

the drive back to your house is quiet. you’re anxious, your throat feels tight and you know your cheeks must be incredibly pink. damon hasn’t even glanced at you and you’re afraid to say a word because if you do you’ll start crying.

he finally pulls into your drive and parks the car before looking at you for the first time since you left the restaurant. you wring your hands together before looking back at him, expecting the worst.

“that was fun, justin is a really nice guy.” his voice is genuine as he speaks to you, but you’re prepared for where this is going. “he loves you, y/n.”

you look at him with bewilderment as he continues speaking. you want to say something, but he holds up a finger to tell you to wait. “before you start with the whole ‘he doesn’t feel that way about me’ spiel, he does. i saw how you looked at each other all night. he doesn’t look at her like that.”

tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes as he speaks, and you turn your gaze from his so he won’t see. “you love each other, y/n. it’s okay. i had fun, i’m glad i met you.” he says, reaching over the console to grab your hand. he gives it a gentle squeeze and you look back up at him as he smiles at you. “i would like to be your friend, if that’s okay.”

“yeah, we can stay friends, of course.” you tell him. he lets go of your hand and gets out of the car, circling around to get your door and walk you up the front steps. before you can walk up damon pulls you in for a hug, which you reluctantly accept.

“it was nice meeting and going out with you, y/n. don’t be a stranger!” he says, and then he lets you go and gets back into his car, driving off down the street.

you let yourself in the house and lock the door behind you before collapsing on the couch. you don’t have the energy to move, to take off your shoes, or to even be worried about your makeup.

you just sit there, and you cry. you cry for all the lost time, if it is true and he does love you. and if damon’s wrong, and you do take the time to tell justin how you feel and he rejects you… well, you should go ahead and cry for that too. you cry for the only boy you’ve ever loved.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

justin buckles his seatbelt and holds his foot down on the brake before backing out of his parking spot at the restaurant, ready to get home and into more comfortable clothing. chloe sits beside him silent, like she did for most of the dinner.

he spares a glance her way and notices her posture is rigid, her lips are pressed into a tight, thin line. justin reaches over to grasp her hand but she flinches away from his touch.

“are you okay?” he asks her, his tone concerned. “i’m okay. can you take me to my house, please?” she asks. her voice sounds small, she sounds upset.

“of course.” justin agrees. they hadn’t been dating long enough to make the steps to move in together, but chloe frequented his house often as long as he was home. he thought it was a bit strange that she wanted to go home, but he waited to question it.

when he pulled in her driveway and parked she was quick to jump out of the car and make her way inside. justin turned the car off and pocketed the keys before following chloe inside.

“um, is everything okay?” he asked, stepping into the living room. “no. we need to talk.” chloe said, sitting down on the couch. justin sat next to her and place a reassuring hand on her knee as he waited for her to speak.

“i think we should break up.”

justin is taken aback by her confession, but he doesn’t speak. he waits to hear her out. “i really like you, justin. and i think you like me. but you don’t love me. and you never will, because you love someone else.”

“what?” he asks, his tone incredulous. “you love y/n, justin. you know it, i know it, everyone on the planet knows it… except for her. i think you’re both idiots.” chloe smiles softly.

justin looks around the room nervously, waiting for chloe to speak again. “you’re both idiots because what you’ve been looking for has been in front of you the whole time. it was obvious you two should have been on a date. you both carried the conversation, you were doing silly impressions to make her laugh… you look at her like she’s your most prized possession, justin.”

he takes a deep breath before looking at chloe and finally speaking. “i’m sorry.” is all he’s able to mutter out.

“you don’t need to apologize. i’ll admit, i was upset at first. but on the drive i thought about it, and i just want you to be happy. and i figured someone needed to tell you that girl loves you, because if the two of you have been friends this long and you haven’t figured it out, i’m afraid you never will.” she laughs. “and god, i didn’t even know you were allergic to walnuts.”

justin laughs too before reaching over and pulling chloe into him for a hug. “thank you for telling me all that… and i am sorry. i really am.”

“it’s okay, justin. just get the girl, okay?” she says, shooing him out the door. he waves goodbye before walking off to his car and heading home.

when he arrives home he sits in the driveway pondering… did you really love him back? and if you have, how long? and what was he going to do?

he thinks of all the time he’s lost out on if it’s true, and you do love him back. he’d supressed the feelings for as long as he could remember because he never knew he had a chance - he never thought he’d be the one for you. and if he wasn’t he knew it’d break him, but all he wanted was your happiness.

all he knew right now was that he loved you, that you were the only girl he’d ever loved.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧

you don’t talk to justin for a week.

you’re afraid to. usually, he’s the first person you run to about anything, but since the subject matter is him, you feel like you’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. you spend the entire week sad, crying into your coffee or whatever dinner you’ve chosen to eat after work (usually cereal), and watching lifetime movies that are guaranteed to make you feel worse - they make the longing in your chest burn.

justin finally texts you on friday night, and you’re afraid to open it. you let it sit unread for half an hour before your phone starts ringing on the end table. it’s justin, you know it is, but you’re afraid to answer. you pick up your phone slowly and slide your thumb across the screen to answer the call.

“hello?” you sniffle, picking up a tissue to wipe your nose. “hey y/n, you okay?” justin asks.

“yeah, lifetime movie, sorry. what’s up?”

“just wanted to see if you wanna come over and hangout? i haven’t heard from you all week, i miss you.” he says. you miss him too. but are you ready to see him after what happened?

against your better judgment, you agree to go over. after all, he is your best friend. if anyone can get you feeling better, it’s justin. you hang up the call and slide on your slippers before grabbing your keys and phone and heading over to his house.

you didn’t bother changing, you didn’t care what you looked like in front of him. he’d seen you sick as a dog before, he even held your hair when you puked a few times, so he could handle seeing you in an old ratty tshirt and sweatpants that were a few sizes too big.

there’s also no way he could ever judge you for having greasy hair.

you make the quick drive to his place and you almost panic and leave before calming yourself down and walking to the front door. it’s just justin. this is no big deal.

you knock twice but you know he already knows you’re there, and he swings the door open quickly before pulling you into a tight hug. physical affection is something you both enjoy, and you’ve missed him. you wrap your arms tightly around him and squeeze back.

justin laughs as he looks down at you. “sometimes i forget how small you are.”

“or maybe you’re sasquatch.” you say, giving him a shove. he lets go and steps aside so you can get in the door, and you waste no time in sliding your slippers off plopping down on his couch. you notice his house seems a little… different, but you can’t put your finger on it.

justin closes the door and makes his way over to you, acting like he’s going to sit on your lap. “don’t even think about it.” you tell him, bringing your legs up to your chest. he sits next to you and leans into your side.

“how was your week?” he asks you innocently. “it was horrible.” you reply. you share the most miniscule details with him when he tries pressing you further, because you’re too afraid to tell him what’s really wrong. justin listens intently either way, hoping to find something he can do to make you feel better.

“well how’s it been with damon?” he finally asks, and you freeze. justin moves so he can lay his head on your lap, and he straightens out your legs before doing so. your hand naturally finds its way into his hair, your nails raking along his scalp soothingly. he shudders.

“damon um… well. he didn’t wanna go on another date. it wasn’t because he didn’t like me, though. he just said… he could tell u didn’t like him.”

justin hums softly. “interesting.” he says.

“what’s interesting?” you ask him. “chloe broke up with me.”

“WHAT?” you shout, startling him a bit. “sorry… i mean, what? why? i thought you guys really liked each other?”

“well, she liked me a lot. and i liked her but… i don’t love her. she really helped me realize a lot of feelings i had that i’d been holding back.” he turns his head to look up at you and smiles and - oh. oh.

the look he’s giving you seems to be full of pure adoration, pure love. and you realize that he always looks at you like this.

tears start to form in your eyes again and justin sits up, this time pulling you into his lap. “you okay?” he asks, soothingly rubbing his hand over your back.

that’s why it seemed different - all her stuff was gone.

“i don’t know. what’s happening here?” you ask him, burying your face in his neck. “chloe helped me realize that i love you, y/n. i always knew it, deep down. but… i don’t know. i never really thought you felt the same.”

“damon said the same to me. that he could, um, tell we loved each other. are we just stupid?” you ask him, pulling away from his neck to look in his eyes.

“apparently two idiots in love.” he says. his hand finds the back of your hair and smooths over it softly before he pulls you into his neck again, crushing you in another hug.

“so where do we go from here?” you ask, enjoying his embrace. “i guess forward.” he jokes, poking at your sides. “together, of course, if you want that. as a couple.”

you can’t help the giddy feeling bubbling up inside you as he speaks. of course you want that, it’s all you’ve ever wanted. “i love you, justin.” you finally say, and being able to tell him to his face is like a dream come true. “i love you back.” he says softly. you meet his gaze once again and he looks nervous, but you aren’t sure why.

“what’s wrong?” you ask him sweetly. you softly touch his cheek, smoothing over it with your thumb. he doesn’t say another word, but he leans in and kisses you.

you feel dizzy, your heart is pounding incredibly hard against your chest. justin is over the moon too. your lips begin moving in sync, neither of you able to catch a decent breath as you devour each other hungrily. justin's hands find your waist and he pulls you into him further, and your arms circle around his neck.

he pulls away for a second before jumping right back in, awkwardly bumping his nose against yours. you both laugh before kissing again. this is truly what euphoria feels like. you don’t know how long you both sit there taking each other apart, whether it’s minutes, hours or days.

what matters is it’s happening. finally.

your hands trail down his biceps as he continues kissing you, leaving a trail from the corner of your mouth down to the exposed column of your throat. your breath hitches when his lips meet one of your most sensitive spots, right where your neck meets your shoulder. “you okay?” he says, sounding concerned.

“i’m nervous.” you whisper. his gaze is soft as he looks at you, half smile spreading across his face. “it’s okay,” he whispers back, “we don’t have to take this any further until you’re ready.”

you hug him again and kiss his cheek softly. “i want to. i’m just nervous.”

“there’s no reason to be afraid.” he assures you. “do you wanna…” he starts, cocking his head to the side and motioning toward the direction of his bedroom. you nod a simple yes.

he stands with you and leads you down the hall to his room, although you know very well where it is. you’ve spent countless nights here cuddled up with him.

he twists the knob slowly and pushes the door open before guiding you inside, and meeting your lips with his again. the kiss is soft and gentle, and he walks you back toward his bed without breaking contact. once you’ve reached the side of the bed he pulls away and reaches behind himself with one arm, grabbing his shirt and yanking it over his head in one swift motion.

uou hop up onto his bed and get cozy against the pillows as he crawls onto the bed too, leaning over you. you rake your nails over the planes of his chest as he presses a kiss to your forehead. his fingertips find the hem of your sweater and his gaze meets yours, waiting for your approval. you nod, and he slides both hands under it before lifting it over your head.

you’re wearing a simple white bra, but justin is looking at you like you’ve just descended down from heaven. you know he won’t ask you to take it off so you let what little bit of confidence you have flowing through your veins take over, and you quickly reach behind you to unclasp it.

justin sucks in a deep breath at the sight of you. you’re easily the most breathtaking woman he’s ever seen in his life, you have been since he first laid eyes on you… but seeing you like this… he feels like he’s died and made it to the afterlife.

you don’t hide your gawking either, his toned body has always been something you’ve enjoyed staring at whether he noticed it or not. “you’re so beautiful,” justin tells you, leaning in to capture your lips again. as he crawls over your body you can feel his length through his sweatpants, it lays hard and heavy over your leg. you shudder at the thought of it.

justin’s hands slide up your torso and he caresses your breasts softly before tweaking both of your nipples with his thumbs and forefingers. you arch upward into him and your body is covered in gooseflesh as you await his touch again.

you’ve never felt such pleasure and satisfaction in your life, and he’s only barely started. you’re sure that you’ve soaked through your panties and sweatpants at this point. he continues to grab at your chest as he kisses you and you moan out his name softly, causing him to rut against your leg. he needs you just as much as you need him, you can tell.

“justin, i’m ready. i want you.” you tell him, breaking away from his kiss to look into his eyes. he smiles down at you and raises his eyebrow, making sure one more time. “i’m ready.” you promise him. his hands grab the waistband of your sweatpants before pulling them down your legs quickly, along with your panties.

he pulls his off next and your mouth falls open, gawking at the sight in front of you. sure… justin was 6’6, everything about him was big… but holy shit. he is huge.

he smiles at you nervously before reassuring you, “it’ll be okay, i won’t hurt you. i swear.” you almost think you could faint at how cute and sexy he his. you tell him you don’t need any prep but he won’t allow it, and he uses the pad of his thumb to circle your clit quickly as he enters two fingers into you to work you open.

after a few minutes you’re ready, you can’t take anymore and you’re practically begging him to fuck you. he blushes at the sound of your moans, but his chest fills with pride knowing he’s making you feel so good. he pulls his fingers from your soaking heat slowly before wrapping his hand around his cock and giving it a few strokes. you let him situate your body how he needs to and he ends up with your ankles right at his shoulders as he prepares to push into you.

he’s lucky you’re flexible. his lips find yours again as he pushes in and your thankful because his kisses swallow your gasps. he moves slowly, inch by inch until he’s fully seated, and he waits a few minutes before moving so he doesn’t hurt you. when he finally pulls out and pushes back in, he moans loudly at how amazing you feel around him. you moan too, you’ve never felt so full in your life - and you’ve never felt so fulfilled either.

he moves to kiss you again and bumps his nose against yours again sweetly as his hands find yours and he tangles your fingers together. his movements are calculated, slow and methodical as he takes you apart, and unravels you in the very best way.

the room is filled with soft moans and labored breaths and the sounds of you kissing each other anywhere your lips can find. it doesn’t take long for you to reach your peak and tears prick at your eyes when you do. this is all you’ve ever wanted, and it’s beautiful, it’s magical. justin feels the same.

you warn him that you’re close and he tells you it’s okay, you can let go for him. “cum for me, it’s okay. i love you, y/n.” and that’s all it takes. his admission of love knocks you straight over the edge and into the thrashing waters, your orgasm taking over your whole body. he cums soon after, his body enjoying the feeling of you squeezing him as he rides out his high.

when he pulls out of you he stand quickly, running off to his bathroom to grab a warm wet towel to clean you both up. he didn’t bother asking if you were on the pill, he already knows every aspect of your life anyway.

justin cleans all your sensitive areas with the warm rag before wiping himself off and sliding back into bed with you, pulling the covers over your bodies.

“that was amazing.” you admit.

“yeah it was. you know how long we could’ve been doing that?” he laughs, and you giggle too. “i love you.” you tell him. “i love you too, so much. can i tell you something stupidly embarrassing, though?” he asks, and you roll over to face him. “oh god, what justin?”

“remember after we graduated, right after you turned eighteen and we had that pool party?”

“yeah, i remember.” you say. it was one of your fondest memories, actually. “that little yellow bikini you wore… i just thought i should admit to you now that i thought about you in that so much when i was jerking it that i thought my dick would fall off.”

both of you erupt in laughter, the admission funny and embarrassing, although endearing too. “that’s okay, remember right before we went to college and you were teaching me how to drive but you kept getting frustrated and yelling at me? i thought that was the hottest i’d ever seen you.” you say. he pulls you into his chest and kisses you softly.

“you’re getting me all worked up again, baby,” he laughs, kissing at your cheek toward your ear. “looks like we’re gonna have to go for round two.”

- - -

taglist: @slimshiesty @joeyburrrow @starsinthesky5 @joeyb1989

photos and dividers used are not mine, all cred to owners.

[pochaccoups]

cw — dry humping, making out, handjob, pet names ‘baby’ and ‘pretty girl’, best bf cheol (minors dni)

It’s a confession you make half-hoping Seungcheol doesn’t hear you: “you’re so hard. Let me jerk you off.”

You say it in the heat of the moment, utter it against his lips, reluctant partly because it’s perverted, it’s obscene, and it’s just utterly desperate of you, and partly also because you’re supposed to be taking it slow with him. You’ve had too many relationships go to shit when you fucked them right off the bat and found out after that you’d had nothing in common. Then you met Choi Seungcheol, who seemed a little too good to be true, and from the moment you’d told him you didn’t want to rush into any kind of intimacy just yet, he was more careful with your boundaries than you yourself.

For the last God-knows-how-long though, you’d sat in his lap, rutting yourself against him while he stole your breath with his lips, and fuck, he’s so hard against you that you think it must hurt, and he’s your boyfriend, so why wouldn’t you help him out?

When you say it, he tugs you away from him by your neck, not harsh or rough at all but rather in the way that everything he does has an air of dominance. He stares at you with hardened features, his attempt to appear stern betrayed only slightly by his kiss-swollen lips and cherry red cheeks, and yet you’re not afraid to persist.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret,” he says, so soft and low that he could lull you to sleep.

“It’s fine, Cheol. It won’t even count because you’re not putting it inside,” you say with a shrug and a grin.

Seungcheol has never felt so torn in his life. He wants to build up tension slowly with you until you trust him, until you’re certain that you’re ready to go all the way with him, to take the next step and bare yourself to him. Saying no to you is impossible though, especially when you make him want to give you the entire world. He’s also so, so hard, and his only options are to give in to you or jerk himself off in the bathroom alone.

His thumb traces over your bottom lip, his boner growing worse from the soft suppleness of it, from the batting of your lashes, from the carnal gleam in your eyes. Fuck it, he thinks. You’re the one who wanted it in the first place, anyway.

“Alright,” he says, and he already sounds out of breath, like the mere thought of your hand around him is enough to make him lose his mind. (It is.)

He starts to shift beneath you, simultaneously grasping your waist to reposition you ever so slightly as he pulls his sweats a few inches down his hips while your ardent fingers help him along. “But the second you wanna stop, we stop, okay?”

“Not gonna wanna stop,” you say, humming. Seungcheol pauses and stares at you, unamused. It makes you roll your eyes. “God, okay, I’ll tell you if I wanna stop. Now can I touch your dick, please?”

He narrows his eyes at you in faux doubt, only to wink at you and finally push his boxers down enough to let his cock spring free.

You feel your insides literally warm at the sight of it. It’s darkened pink, veiny, long, and girthier than anything you’ve ever seen. How can you not think about how it would feel inside you, stretching you out? Because God knows it would stretch you out. You’re pretty sure you’ll need several weeks of foreplay for him to fit.

“Cheol, you’re huge…” you say before you can stop yourself, growing suddenly timid.

“Good thing I’m not putting it inside then, hm?” says Seungcheol, chuckling a little.

He notices the shift in your eyes—it’s not hesitation, you’re just stunned. His hand soothes up and down your back, a silent reminder to take your time. For a split second his heart drops when he thinks maybe you’ve changed your mind about this, about him, and then your hand reaches for his length.

“Can I?” you ask. So polite, as if you’ve never done anything like this before. It makes Seungcheol want to smother you with kisses.

“Please,” he replies, only hoping it’s not too desperate.

The relief when your fingers finally grasp him makes Seungcheol’s shoulder sag, and he finds himself sinking further into the couch when your thumb swirls over his reddened cockhead. Beads of precum drool from his slit and you smear them all over his tip, smirking softly when Seungcheol’s breath hitches in his throat.

With your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself from making an embarrassing noise, you start to pump his member slowly. You drool at the heaviness of it, at the way your fingers don’t touch as they wrap around him, at Seungcheol’s tiny noises as he inhales and exhales.

“Think you could spit on it for me?” he asks and his voice has dropped about three octaves now. He’s careful with his words, wanting nothing but for you to do things on your own accord.

He has to stop himself from cumming on the spot when you give a nod and a sweet smile before bending forward to let a dollop of spit drop from your pretty lips and land perfectly on his tip.

“Show me how you like it, Cheol,” you say. His heart skips several beats and he wishes he could record your words and listen to them again and again. Fuck, you’re perfect. He already knew that, knew it after about two weeks of knowing you, but you just keep affirming it for him and he wonders if you know your effect on him.

Seungcheol’s hand is warm as it engulfs yours. His grip is much tighter—painful even, you would think, but as he starts guiding your hand up and down with vigour, he throws his head back and moans, and you can’t help the way your pussy aches at the sound.

He shows you exactly how he likes it: tight, and with a flick of the wrist to swirl around his tip.

“God, fuck, baby, that’s it,” he grunts and bucks his hips into your hand.

Heat creeps up the back of your neck. There’s a dash of timidness you get from being this intimate with Seungcheol for the first time, although it’s not even you who’s exposed, and then there’s desire. Wild, burning lust. He’s the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on, and he’s falling apart in your hands.

“Your cock’s so pretty, Cheollie,” you say. His already dark eyes have grown impossibly darker, riddled with want as they flicker between your intertwined fingers around his cock, and your face. “Can’t wait to have it in my mouth.”

“F-fuck, didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth, pretty girl,” he moans, quickening your pace. His precum leaks all over your fingers, so wet that there’s an audible slick sound with every pump up and down.

“Only for you,” you say, and your gaze falls to his glistening lips, and you’re moving absentmindedly towards them until you’re kissing him. It’s even messier than before, more breathless, like neither of you are holding back your wanting anymore. Your tongue licks against his shamelessly. You’re hungry for him. He settles a hand at the nape of your neck, drawing you closer to him so that he can kiss you so hard your head starts to spin.

You’re not sure when you’d started grinding on him again, rutting your crotch over his hard thigh like a dog, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel ashamed of yourself when Seungcheol’s chest is starting to heave, his moans are growing more frequent, and his cock is throbbing against your hand.

“You’re twitching, Cheol. Are you gonna cum?” you tease, your cunt fluttering.

“Yeah, ’m close,” he says through gritted teeth.

And he’s certainly honest, because a few more strokes and he’s giving a deep, guttural groan and cumming in thick, milky white spurts all over his hoodie. His blissed out face is a sight to behold, although he doesn’t let you do so in favour of pulling you in for another kiss, one that’s soft and chaste this time.

Choi Seungcheol’s duality will kill you one day.

“Did so good for me, baby, thank you,” he says, giving you his sugary smile. “I’m gonna go… uh, change real quick and then I’ll return the favour, yeah?”

“Wh- return the favour? But- that- I wanted to help you out, though, so it’s fine!” you stutter, and he’s already plucked you off his lap like you’re weightless and stood up to his feet.

“Baby,” he says, taking your hand. “I felt you grinding all over my leg. Let me take care of you like you did for me.”

[shurisneakers]

saw your requests were open and i figured i would humbly aid 🫡

everyone is always like “oh! bucky with a golden retriever reader this! bucky with a sunshine reader that!” what about bucky with a reader who’s just as moody as he is??

no one ever writes two grumps together and i think it would be an interesting dynamic

Summary: It's New Years Eve and this man simply refuses to do anything but be a pain in your ass.

Warnings: cursing, alcohol

A/N: Sid. did you know. did you know that you're literally a genius. you're so right about grumpy x grumpy. i do not know if I have done this justice but I wrote this out on my phone because I like this request so much thank you for sending one in 😭❤️

New Year’s Eve is a migraine wrapped in tinsel and cheap champagne. You’ve seen too many years roll over into nothing to care anymore.

Doesn’t matter. You’re here because the bar’s open, and when someone says “open bar,” you take it as a challenge to see how open it can really be.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asks.

“Whatever’s most expensive.”

He ducks under the counter, comes back with a bottle that looks more like a museum piece than alcohol. Fancy glasswork, gold lettering, the works.

He starts, “This one’s got notes of—”

“Let me see,” you interrupt.

The second the bottle’s in your hands, you turn and walk away.

He sputters behind you, but you wave him off. “Put it on the billionaire’s tab."

You snake through the crowd and confetti, nodding at a few familiar faces but not stopping for any. Emergency exit in sight, you take a seat where you can watch the chaos unfold while staying out of it.

"Pass the bottle."

You don't even bother looking at him as you respond, "Go steal your own."

"You took the most expensive one."

"Get another one."

"This is easier."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Real festive of you."

Still, despite your best efforts, he’s already taking a seat, uninvited.

You take another swig before passing the bottle to him without another word.

He glances at you. "Why are you here?"

"Well, it was quiet before someone showed up."

"Must'a really pissed you off," he says, tipping the bottle back.

God, Bucky was fucking annoying. But his cheeks are flushed pink and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbow.

"Why are you here?" you scowl.

"It's quiet," he replies, like just knows it'll make you mad. He's right.

"You’re in my space.”

“This isn’t your space.”

“I was here first.”

“Congrats. Want a medal?”

"Leave."

"No," he states, resolutely.

Bucky’s the human equivalent of a rock in your shoe—persistent, irritating, and impossible to ignore.

You feel face warm with irritation. "Where's your date gone?"

"Nat set me up, I've never met her before," he says, as though it’s the least surprising thing in the world. "Haven't seen her in thirty minutes."

"What, you couldn't brood your way into her pants?"

He gives you a dry, unimpressed look. "I don't kiss and tell."

"Doesn't look like you're doing any kissing at all," you scoff.

He tips the bottle back, takes a slow drink, then hands it to you. "You think about me kissing a lot?"

"I don't think about you."

He snorts, low and humorless, and you hate that it makes you want to laugh.

Bucky's fucking annoying. He's run his hand too many times through his hair, and there’s a smudge of something—lipstick, maybe—on his collar, and he's stretched out too damn much, like he's right at home.

He sends you a look. It makes you want to hide. You hate the way his eyes linger, like he’s waiting for you to flinch.

"Bottle," you demand.

He hands it over silently, crossing his arms over his chest, staring right ahead.

"How much longer?" he asks, checking his watch.

"You can leave."

"Sure can," he says, but doesn’t move.

"So leave."

"No."

You stare at him. "Find somewhere else to sit."

"No," he replies.

The minutes stretch. The bottle passes back and forth, your irritation simmering every time he exhales, every time he looks at you like he’s got something to say but doesn’t.

Bucky was fucking annoying. He smelt like expensive cologne and Tide detergent. His eyes are tired and his voice is scratchy. when he shifts beside you, it’s like he takes up more space than anyone has a right

He holds his hand out for the bottle. You give it to him.

"What are you gonna do at midnight?" he asks.

"Finish this bottle."

"What about after?"

"I'll get another one."

Bucky rolls his eyes. “That all?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” You glare at him, but he doesn’t flinch. He never does.

“Good."

His jaw’s tense, his eyes dark and sharp, and for a second, you think maybe he’s as pissed at himself as you are.

Silence falls. It’s not comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable either. It’s just there. Like him.

"What’re you gonna do at midnight? Cry into whiskey?” you ask pointedly.

“I could, but you drank it all." He rolls his eyes.

There's a lot left. You give him the bottle. He takes it without a word, fingers brushing against yours.

Bucky takes a swig. “No one waiting for you at midnight?"

"Loads," you scoff. "Got a line out the damn door waiting to kiss me."

"Uh huh," be says.

There's silence.

You look at him, only for find him eyeing you.

“No one waiting for you?”

You scoff. “Why, you volunteering?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just studies you with those sharp, unreadable eyes. “Maybe.”

"Sure, Barnes, I'll kiss you at midnight," you drag sarcastically.

His face doesn't shift. Your brows furrow.

"Christ, you're bein' serious," you mumble.

He shrugs non committedly. "I could think of worse things to do."

"Wow," you say dryly. "Charming."

"Just sayin'."

With two minutes to go, you find that it's harder to look him in the eye. Your heart stumbles over itself, and you take another drink to cover the sudden heat crawling up your neck.

Either the whiskey was really starting to take hold, or the damn spirit of the damn season was getting to you.

"Look, I wasn't plannin' on asking anyone else," he says.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Do with that what you will," he says, taking a swig.

"What about your date?" you test.

"Don't think she remembers I exist."

You observe him. His shirt is unbuttoned, and his coat jacket lay on his lap. His bowtie also hung precariously from his neck.

Bucky was really fucking annoying. His hair is toussled and his stubble is rough and you're fairly certain his nose is sunburnt. You know this because you've been staring at him every day from the second he stepped foot in the compound, withdrawn and scowling.

It's late and you're tired of a lot of things and you're careless, so you stare too long. He catches you.

"What?" he bites.

"I'm assessing," you say, then add grudgingly, “You're not... terrible."

Which is a lie. He's beautiful. He's acutely aware of this on some days. Those days are harder for you.

He stares at you. "I can see why there's a line out the door for you."

"Go join them," you say. "I'll finally get some fuckin' quiet."

He exhales a short laugh. "No."

You can hear the crowd shouting numbers, but it’s distant, unimportant. Bucky’s eyes are on you, steady.

The crowd cheers.

Bucky's really fucking annoying.

But he kisses you like he's liked you all his life. Like he's real tired of waiting. It lingers just long enough to make your stomach flip when you realise he still tastes like whiskey.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t look smug. He doesn’t say anything at all. Just hands you the bottle and leans back like nothing happened.

His cheeks are red. His lips are swollen. He's never looked prettier in his damn life.

“Happy New Year,” you mutter, staring at the bottle because you can’t look at him.

“Sure,” he says, voice low, almost hoarse.

[puckstories]

Stuck With Me | Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Cursing, established relationship, kissing, idk what else. Only edited once.

Summary; Based on this request: "could you do a fic of reader feeling jealous and quinn being reassuring 💕tyy"

Word Count; 4.0k

Author’s note; This is not my best work at all, I'd probably rate it a 4/10 just because I didn't really flesh out the jealousy + the pacing is kind of rushed, but I'm tired of looking at it frankly. Possibly in the future I will go back and edit it and make it better. Thank you to the anon who requested this though, I hope you liked it at least a little bit. Also, it's not really mentioned, but Quinn is not drunk and is okay to drive home + Josh is Josh Norris, and Kaylee is just a character I made up, no one IRL. -Honey.

“You’re staring,” Josh comments, nonchalant as he leans closer to nudge your arm.

Startled, you tear your gaze away and take a long sip of your drink, using the glass as a shield. “I was not,” you mumble, trying to sound casual as you glance sideways at him.

Josh chuckles, the sound resonating just slightly over the music playing. “Sure,” he says, dragging out the word with a smirk that makes it clear he’s not buying your denial for a second.

You roll your eyes, letting out a sigh as you lean back against the cushioned booth. No matter how hard you try, your gaze betrays you, drifting back toward the pool table across the room. Your fingers tighten slightly around your glass as you watch Quinn and Kaylee, their heads tilted close as they laugh about something you can’t hear.

You met Kaylee earlier, when you and Quinn first arrived at the bar. She’d come over almost immediately, her tall frame poised with an effortless grace that made you feel small and slightly disheveled in comparison. She was gorgeous—model-gorgeous—with sleek, fiery red hair that fell perfectly over her shoulders and striking green eyes that seemed to gleam in the dim lighting.

And Quinn had lit up when he saw her.

“She’s just an old friend,” he’d said casually, his hand brushing your lower back as he introduced you. They’d gone to college together, apparently, and while she’d been nothing but kind and polite to you, there was something about the way she made him laugh that stuck with you. It was freer, lighter somehow, as if she knew a version of him you didn’t.

She did, actually.

You knew it was irrational. You knew that Quinn loved you, that he hadn’t seen her in years and that they were just catching up. But the jealousy crept in anyway, an unwelcome guest settling in your chest. It festered beneath your skin, bubbling hotter and more insistent with every glance and every laugh they shared over the pool table.

“You’re doing it again,” Josh observes, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Your head swivels back toward him, a guilty heat rushing to your face. “Doing what?” you ask defensively, though the slight waver in your voice betrays you.

Josh arches a brow, leaning back in his seat as he folds his arms. “Staring. Sulking. Probably plotting Kaylee’s downfall, if I had to guess.” His tone is teasing, and there’s a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he studies you.

You groan, setting your empty glass down on the table with a soft thud. “I’m not sulking.”

“Uh-huh,” he replies, clearly unconvinced.

“And I'm not plotting anyone's downfall!” you insist, but your gaze betrays you once again, flicking back toward Quinn and Kaylee. She’s leaning over the pool table now, lining up a shot, and Quinn is watching her with an amused grin, his arms crossed as he leans casually against the edge.

Your chest tightens. You know it’s nothing. You know Quinn is yours, that he’s coming home with you tonight, but the nagging voice in the back of your mind refuses to let it go.

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” You don’t wait for Josh’s response, sliding out of the booth with your glass in hand. The hum of conversation and the occasional burst of laughter surround you as you weave through the crowded bar, bodies shifting just enough to let you pass. Your pulse feels louder in your ears than the bass thumping faintly from the overhead speakers.

When you reach the bar, you set your empty glass down with a quiet clink and take a seat on one of the worn barstools. The polished wood is sticky beneath your palms, and the faint scent of spilled beer and citrus lingers in the air.

You glance up, taking in the bartender, a guy with a mullet that somehow works on him, tattoos winding up his arms like intricate stories inked into his skin. He’s busy, sliding a tray of colorful cocktails across the counter to a group of friends celebrating a bachelorette party. You lean on the counter, your gaze drifting to the mirrored shelves behind him, rows of liquor bottles glinting in the dim light like a kaleidoscope of temptation.

After a minute or two, he finally makes his way over to you, wiping his hands on a rag tucked into his waistband. “What can I get you?” he asks, his tone brisk but not unfriendly.

“I’ll just get a Jack and Coke, thanks,” you say, offering the bartender a polite smile. As he reaches for a glass, you lean slightly over the counter, your voice carrying just enough over the ambient noise of the bar. “And my boyfriend has a tab. Last name’s Hughes—put it on there, please.”

The bartender pauses for a moment, giving you a quick once-over before nodding. “Got it,” he says, turning toward the shelves with practiced ease.

You settle back onto the stool, your fingers tracing idle patterns on the sticky wood of the countertop as you glance around. Behind the bar, the bartender moves quickly, grabbing a tumbler and dropping in a few cubes of ice before reaching for the Jack Daniel’s. His movements are efficient, the kind that come from muscle memory, and within moments, the golden liquid pours into the glass, followed by a splash of Coke.

It’s a simple drink, nothing fancy or fussy, but that’s what you like about it—consistent, reliable, no surprises.

He sets the drink in front of you with a small napkin, the condensation already starting to bead on the sides of the glass. “There you go,” he says, glancing briefly in your direction before moving on to the next customer.

“Thanks,” you reply, wrapping your fingers around the cool glass.

Taking a sip, the familiar blend of sweet Coke and smoky whiskey slides down smoothly, the warmth spreading through your chest. It’s exactly what you need—not too strong, not too complicated. Just enough to ground you as you try to push away the nagging thoughts that have been buzzing at the back of your mind all evening.

Sliding off the barstool, you clutch your drink in one hand and begin making your way back to the booth you’d claimed earlier, until your body collides with something—someone—firm and unyielding. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as you stumble back, your drink sloshing out of the glass and soaking into your white top. The cold liquid clings to your skin, staining the fabric a disgusting, murky brown.

“Shit, sorry,” the guy mutters immediately, his voice filled with genuine regret. He moves quickly, grabbing a handful of napkins from the bar behind you. “Here, let me—”

He leans forward, attempting to dab at your shirt with the wad of napkins. His well-meaning gesture only amplifies your frustration, the awkwardness of the situation making your cheeks flush. You set your now-empty glass on the nearest surface with a loud clink and grab the napkins from him.

“It’s fine,” you say, your voice clipped as you step back. “Thanks, I got it.”

You don’t wait for a response, brushing past him and heading toward the bathrooms. Your pulse pounds in your ears, a mix of embarrassment and irritation settling in your chest.

Pushing the door open, you’re relieved to find the women’s bathroom empty. The faint hum of fluorescent lights fills the silence as you approach the sink. With a deep sigh, you wet the bottom of your shirt under the cold stream of water, scrubbing at the stain with a dollop of foamy soap from the dispenser.

The dark blotch stubbornly clings to the fabric, refusing to disappear entirely. You scrub harder, the rough texture of the paper towels adding to your frustration. After a few minutes, the stain fades slightly, the color no longer as glaring as before.

You toss the soggy paper towels into the trash with a sigh of defeat, inspecting the faint brown shadow that still mars your top. “Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, resigning yourself to your less-than-pristine appearance. Moving to the hand dryer, you press the button and hold your shirt away from your body, letting the warm blast of air dry the damp fabric.

You let the hand dryer hum for another minute, the hot air doing its best to dry the wet fabric of your shirt. It’s still slightly damp when you decide to give up and leave the bathroom. The faint shadow of the stain remains, but you’ve done all you can. With a sigh, you smooth the fabric down and push the door open, exiting into the social minefield.

As you make your way back to the booth, the familiar knot of unease tightens in your stomach. It’s not just Josh at the booth anymore. The entire group is back now, including Quinn—and Kaylee, of course. They’re sitting next to each other, laughing softly at something, their heads tilted just close enough to make your chest tighten uncomfortably. Because of course they’re next to each other. Of course.

The frustration you’ve been trying to tamp down flares up again, prickling hot under your skin. You glance away, your eyes threatening to roll before you can stop them. But it’s as if Quinn has some sixth sense for your mood, because the second you look back, his gaze locks onto yours.

He smiles at first, the kind of warm, easy smile that usually makes your heart flutter. But then his eyes drop to your shirt, the faint stain still visible against the white fabric, and his expression shifts to one of confusion.

“What happened to your shirt?” he asks, his voice cutting through the chatter as he abandons his conversation. He slides a little further into the booth, making room for you to take your usual seat on the end.

You approach the table, sitting down a little harder than you intended. The irritation bubbling beneath the surface sharpens your tone, and when you finally respond, it comes out rougher than you’d meant. “What do you think happened?”

Quinn blinks, visibly taken aback by the edge in your voice. His eyebrows shoot up briefly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. The silence that follows feels heavy, the casual buzz of the bar suddenly too loud in contrast.

Quinn leans slightly closer, his voice softer now, careful, his breath hitting against your ear. "Are you okay?"

You exhale a long sigh, the weight of the evening pressing down on you as you lean into his side. The familiar warmth of his presence wraps around you, grounding you in a way that words can’t. “I’m fine,” you murmur softly. “Sorry for snapping at you.”

Quinn doesn’t hesitate, his arm slipping casually over your shoulder as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He presses a kiss against your temple, his lips lingering against your skin for a brief moment.

“It’s okay,” he replies, his voice low, just for you to hear.

For the next little while, you sit in the booth, letting the conversation flow around you. Quinn dives back into catching up with his friends, his laughter easy and unguarded as he shares stories and memories you’re only half-listening to.

You chime in occasionally when someone calls your name, offering a small smile or a quick reply. But mostly, you let yourself fade into the background, content to simply exist beside Quinn. His arm remains draped over your shoulder, his thumb brushing absentmindedly against your arm.

“…double date, right?”

You only catch the tail end of the sentence, your mind still drifting when you feel Quinn give your shoulder a gentle squeeze. The touch pulls you back to the moment, your eyes blinking as you try to focus.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, glancing around the table.

The group erupts into light laughter, the kind that feels good-natured rather than mocking. Quinn leans in slightly, his smile soft but amused as he repeats himself. “A double date. You’d be down for that, right?”

“Oh, uh… sure,” you reply, nodding quickly before the words have fully sunk in. Your gaze shifts between the faces at the table, suddenly feeling as though you’ve missed an important detail. “With who?”

Quinn’s smile widens, and there’s a playful gleam in his eyes. “Kaylee,” he says simply, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Your mouth falls open slightly, caught completely off guard by the response. You blink, turning your attention to Kaylee, who’s sipping her drink with an easy grace. “You… have a boyfriend?” you manage to ask, the words spilling out before you can stop them.

Kaylee lets out a light, melodic giggle, setting her glass down on the table. “Soon-to-be fiancé,” she corrects, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. “At least, once he grows a pair and actually proposes.” She laughs again, shaking her head. “He’s working late tonight, so he couldn’t make it.”

Her words hit you like a freight train. Fiancé? Working late? You feel your stomach drop as the realization sinks in. All of your jealousy is baseless. Kaylee wasn’t flirting with Quinn; she wasn’t even remotely interested in him that way.

She had a boyfriend. Soon to be fiancé.

Heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks, the embarrassment washing over you like a tidal wave. You manage a small smile, but inwardly, you’re cringing so hard you wish the ground would swallow you whole. "Yeah, that'd be fun, for sure."

The next couple of hours fly by in a blur, and before you know it, everyone is saying their goodbyes, exchanging hugs and promises to meet up again soon. The warm glow of the bar’s lights spills out onto the sidewalk as you and Quinn step outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

It’s dark now, and a light drizzle begins to fall, the raindrops cool and soft as they dot your clothes. You glance at each other and break into a jog toward the car. By the time you reach it, the rain has picked up, turning from a drizzle into a steady downpour. You barely make it inside before the skies seem to open up, the sound of rain pelting against the roof filling the silence as Quinn starts the engine.

“Well, that was close,” he mutters with a small laugh, brushing the dampness from his sleeves before backing out of the parking spot.

The car is warm, the faint scent of Quinn’s cologne lingering in the air as he drives through the quiet streets. A few minutes pass in comfortable silence, the rhythmic drumming of the rain against the windshield almost hypnotic.

Then, his voice cuts through the quiet. “What was up tonight? You were quieter than usual.”

The question catches you off guard, but you quickly shake your head, hoping to dismiss it. “Nothing,” you say.

Quinn glances at you briefly, his expression skeptical even as he keeps his focus on the road. “I know you,” he says evenly. “And I know it’s not nothing, so just tell me.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you turn to look out the window. The rain blurs the city lights into streaks of gold and white, a beautiful distraction from the conversation you’d rather not have. “Quinn, I’m serious. It’s nothing,” you insist, your voice firmer this time.

He presses his lips together, his jaw tightening slightly. “Was it something I did?” he asks after a moment, his voice softer now, tinged with concern.

“No,” you reply quickly, shaking your head.

“Then what is it?” he presses again, his tone patient but persistent.

Your chest tightens, the question hanging in the air between you. It’s not that you don’t want to tell him—it’s just that you don’t even know how to put your feelings into words. The jealousy, the self-doubt, the small spiral you’d gone through earlier tonight—it all feels so petty now, so insignificant in hindsight. And yet, the weight of it still lingers, sitting heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You sigh, leaning your head against the cool glass of the window. "Just drop it."

At your words, Quinn pulls the car onto a quiet side street, the tires crunching over loose gravel before coming to a halt. He shifts the gear into park with a resolute click, his jaw tightening.

You turn to him, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you doing?” you demand, your voice edged with confusion.

He leans back in his seat, shrugging nonchalantly, though his eyes betray his concern. “We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on.”

“Quinn, I told you—it’s nothing,” you snap, the irritation bubbling to the surface. Your arms cross tightly over your chest, a defensive shield against his relentless prodding.

He shakes his head, undeterred. “And I know you’re lying.”

A frustrated sigh escapes you, sharp and heavy. “You know what? Fine.” You unbuckle your seatbelt with a jerky motion, the click echoing in the small space. “I’ll walk home.”

Before Quinn can respond, you fling the door open and step into the storm. The frigid rain pelts down, soaking through your clothes almost instantly. The dirt road beneath your feet churns into sticky mud, clinging to your shoes as you march away, your defiance burning hotter than the cold seeping into your skin.

“Y/N!” Quinn shouts from the car, his voice cutting through the rain like a lifeline you refuse to grab. When you don’t stop, he curses under his breath. You hear the unmistakable sound of his seatbelt unclicking and the slam of his door.

The rain muffles his footsteps, but you know he’s chasing after you. “Y/N, wait!” he calls, urgency threading through his voice. You don’t slow, your pace quickening despite the mud threatening to pull you down.

“Y/N!” Quinn’s voice grows closer, and you finally halt, spinning around with enough force to startle him. He skids to a stop, but momentum carries him forward, and he stumbles into you. His hands instinctively reach out, gripping your arms to steady you both.

“You want to know what’s wrong, Quinn?” you snap, your voice trembling with more than just the chill. Rain streaks down your face, mingling with the tears you can no longer hide. “I’m embarrassed, okay?”

His hands drop, and for a moment, he just looks at you, water dripping from his lashes and the ends of his messy hair. “Embarrassed?” he repeats, his voice soft, almost incredulous.

You wipe at your eyes with a trembling hand, though the rain makes the gesture futile. “Yeah, embarrassed,” you admit, your voice barely audible over the steady drumming of rain. You look down, unable to meet his eyes. “I thought Kaylee had a thing for you.”

Quinn blinks, clearly taken aback. “I—you what?” he stammers, his brows knitting together in confusion.

You sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cold rain. “I thought she liked you,” you repeat, more firmly this time, though the words still sting as they leave your mouth. “But she has a boyfriend, so obviously she doesn’t.”

“She’s just a friend from college,” Quinn says, his voice steady, as if the explanation should settle everything.

You nod, but it feels hollow. “I know.”

“And even if she was single,” he continues, stepping closer, “I’m not.”

His words make you glance up despite yourself. The weight in his gaze pins you in place, your breath catching in your throat.

“I have a girlfriend,” he says, his tone softening but no less resolute. “A girlfriend who makes me chase after her in a rainstorm in the middle of the night.”

The corners of his lips tug upward into a faint smile, though there’s no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes. Your heart twists at the realization—you’d been so caught up in your own doubts that you hadn’t stopped to consider how much he’d already chosen you.

The rain pours around you, but the world seems to shrink to just the two of you. For a moment, neither of you speaks. His words hang in the air, heavy with meaning.

“Quinn—” Your voice falters. You search for the right thing to say, something that can express the tangle of emotions inside you. Embarrassment. Relief. Gratitude. "I usually never get jealous like this. I'm sorry."

Quinn’s expression softens as he reaches up, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The rain pelts in a steady, rhythmic drizzle around you, the droplets catching the light from the streetlamp above, creating a soft halo that bathes you both in a muted glow. He smiles, not in the least bit fazed, his eyes warm and reassuring.

"It's okay," he says simply, as if it's no big deal, his tone so calm, so easy, that it almost makes you feel like your jealousy was nothing at all.

"Quinn, I'm serious," you say, your brows knitting together as you try to convey just how sorry you truly were.

"Baby, it’s okay," he repeats, his voice low and full of understanding. "We all get jealous sometimes," he continues, his fingers now gently brushing your cheek, his thumb softly caressing your skin as if he’s trying to soothe away the tension. "I just ask that next time, you talk to me about it, okay? I want to know how you're feeling."

His words are earnest, leaving no room for doubt. He’s not upset, just asking for honesty—asking for you to trust him with those feelings. And that, more than anything, makes your heart soften.

You nod, the weight of your earlier emotions starting to ease. "I will," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper.

Quinn’s smile deepens, a mixture of relief and affection in his eyes as he gazes down at you. He reaches out, cupping your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing softly over your damp cheeks, wiping away the raindrops that have begun to cling to your skin. Then, without another word, he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

The world around you seems to fade as his mouth moves against yours, slow and passionate, his lips warm and soft despite the chill of the rain. The kiss is intense, full of emotion, as if he’s pouring everything he feels into it—the reassurance, the love, the unspoken promise that he’s here for you, and only you. Your arms find their way around his neck, pulling him closer, and in that moment, the jealousy, the embarrassment—it all melts away, washed clean by the feeling of his lips on yours.

The rain continues to fall, droplets dancing off the pavement, but all you can feel is him—the solid warmth of his body against yours, the softness of his hands cradling your face. The streetlight above flickers softly, casting the two of you in a golden glow, making the moment feel like something out of a dream, something ethereal and untouchable.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests gently against yours, and for a moment, you just stand there, catching your breath, your hearts beating in sync.

Quinn looks into your eyes, his gaze steady and full of love. "And for the record," he says, his voice low and serious but with a teasing lilt at the end, "I don’t want anyone else. You’re stuck with me, okay? Deal with it."

You can’t help the small laugh that escapes your lips, the tension fully gone now, replaced by warmth and affection. The way he says it—so matter-of-fact, so confident—makes your heart swell. You shake your head, smiling as you look up at him, the rain continuing to fall around you both, but in this moment, you’re completely lost in each other.

"I love you," you whisper, your fingers threading through the damp hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for another kiss, this one softer but just as full of meaning.