#halt missed his boy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sleepymarimo · 7 months ago

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❝𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐮𝐩!❞

synopsis: you're tasked with waking up zoro for dinner, but it's hard to make him budge.

pairing: zoro x gn!reader cw: more tooth rotting fluff for my favorite swordsman :) wc: ~1.6k an: i had a dream about this and added some even more fluff because why not. ty all i hope you enjoy <3 also i realized i have a decent chunk of zoro fics about napping lol maybe this is why im sleepymarimo i just love that sleepy lil guy

"Where the hell is that shitty swordsman?" Sanji grumbles, cigarette hanging from his lips as he sets a hefty plate of rice on the dining table.

Even though you're acutely aware that the marimo is missing, you pretend to peer over shoulders and swivel your head to give the impression that you're just as clueless as everyone else. You're already sat at the table, utensils neatly resting beside your plate.

Everyone else is already in the dining room, Luffy practically on the brink of perishing as the food is placed before him. Chopper and Usopp are close behind, their forks glinting in the light.

Robin is patient, smiling at the sight before her, the one she's grown to love. "I believe he said something about taking a nap," she reveals, her fingers wrapping around the stem of a wine glass. "He might be holed up in the boy's room."

"You mean the men's room?" Franky speaks up in an attempt to lighten the mood, the cola bottle in his hand hissing as he pops the cap.

Nami shakes her head, not in the mood to entertain the hooligans she calls her crewmates- her family. When Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper start to chant for their food, the navigator's last straw cracks into a million pieces.

Her chair slides back with a screech as she stands, planting her hands on the table. "Ugh, I can't believe that guy, sleeping through dinner!" The sigh she gives is intentionally dramatic, her charm working its magic as Sanji quickly offers to knock some sense into the green-haired swordsman.

It all comes to a halt when a pair of hands sprout from the table, tugging at the cook's shirt in a silent command to stay put. All eyes go to Robin, her knowing gaze easily hiding whatever ploy is running through her mind.

She calls your name and you immediately feel your cheeks warm, though you still feign obliviousness even if it seems like she's peeking right into your brain.

"Why don't you get Zoro?" she suggests, yet deep down you know you don't have an option.

Even if the thought of protesting crosses your mind, the chorus of growling stomachs and pleas for you to hurry have you standing and scampering up the stairs and to the deck.

Standing in front of the door to the boy's cabin, you feel your stomach drop a bit. You're quite literally entering a tiger's den, into the willing jaws of a beast who has been known to treasure booze, swords, and naps above all else.

The air inside the room is significantly more warm, heavy, compared to the cool breeze blowing outside. It's dark, your eyes adjusting to the lack of lighting as you carefully step over shoes and dirty clothes.

For a moment the beds seem empty and you wonder if he's even inside, yet the massive figure atop one of the bunks makes you quickly reconsider that thought.

His bare back rises and falls at a leisurely pace, his arms sprawled over the sides of the bed while he lays on his front. Cheek pressed comfortably into his pillow, Zoro naps away without much care for anything else.

After gawking for a second or two, you step toward the bunk, mentally cursing, and steel yourself for what feels like the millionth time. The wooden structure is a bit too tall for you to get a look at him, so with a small grunt you step onto the bottom bunk and grip onto the rails to hoist yourself up.

As soon as you take a glimpse over the top bunk's railing, you feel the warmth of his exhales across your nose and cheeks. It makes your face warm, your own breaths stalling as you take in the sight of him looking so… serene.

His face is softened, relaxed, a stark contrast to the pinched brows and scowls he usually wears.

Imagining the exasperated faces of your hungry crewmates, you get on with your small mission. Even though you're there to wake him, you're considerate enough to keep mindful of your tone. "Zoro?" comes his name from your lips, a murmur not quite suited for waking a beast.

The most you get out of him is the slight wrinkling of his nose, like a fly had perched there for a second before buzzing off. In a way it's expected given that he's slept through storms and whole marine attacks.

Your tone is louder the next time you call his name, more firm, his silhouette becoming pronounced as your eyes adjust to the dark room. "Zoro," you call again, arms starting to ache from how you're pulling yourself up to the top bunk.

Again, nothing. It's almost comical at this point, really.

You resist the urge to groan in frustration, your options becoming more limited. Time really isn't on your side here, not when the odds of a hungry pirate barging into the room increases by the second.

Taking a big breath, you decide that this is going to be the last try. This is going to be the one to wake the marimo, whether he likes it or not.

Unfortunately, the sea has other plans for you.

The ship hits a patch of rough water, the violent movement causing you to lose your grip on the railing tethering you to the top bunk. Your breath also catches when the sudden jolt makes your feet slip off the mattress belonging to the bottom bed, your heart skipping a beat when you feel yourself starting to fall back.

You're fully prepared to brace yourself against the harsh floor, your muscles tensing and jaw tightening, but you don't even have the chance to fall back a single inch.

A strong arm, previously hanging limp over the bed, curls around your waist and holds you steady. It supports all your weight, even as your legs kick out in an attempt to find solid ground. With your face suddenly squished into the junction of his neck, your own arms act on instinct and wrap around his shoulders.

Zoro's awake now, steel-grey eye open and aware as if he hadn't been knocked out cold just seconds ago. His senses have a unique threshold, not bothering to pick up on the calls of his name but always managing to be ready when his crewmates need him most- especially you.

His skin is warm, a tell tale sign that he'd probably been napping for hours. Tightening his grip on you, he sits up, pulling you with him. You're still disoriented, wondering why you haven't hit the floor, but he's as sharp as ever.

"The hell are you doin'?" he grumbles, voice still heavy from his rest, carrying that delightful rasp. His irritated tone is a facade, more of a light chide than anything. "You tryin' t'break your neck or something?"

You feel like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing a couple times while you're still dangling from the top bunk. It's hard to not get in a few mumbled apologies, not knowing if he's ticked from being stirred from his sleep.

"Dinner is ready," you reply, managing to find your words, your hold on him not letting up due to fear of falling once more. He feels so warm, the definition of a guilty pleasure, and you're left to exert as much self-control as possible.

He lets out a scoff, amused, then grunts as he finally realizes you're still hanging over the bed. His hand moves, sliding across your waist to grab at the back of your shirt. While Zoro's strength is known throughout all the seas, it always leaves you in awe. With nothing more than a bicep curl, he hoists you up and onto the top bunk with him.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you sink into the soft mattress, the bunk creaking with the added weight and how Zoro shifts into a seated position. Legs crossed over one another, he stretches his arms over head, unintentionally showing off his physical prowess.

Your eyes find the ceiling out of respect, but mostly because you're another second away from bursting into flames.

He yawns, then rubs at the back of his neck. "Dinner, huh?" he repeats, finding the answer satisfactory enough and shrugging his shoulders. "They sent the right person. I don't need that shitty cook hurling a kick my way."

You nod and even get out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure waking up to me almost falling is a lot better," you joke, looking over the bunk to see the drop to the floor.

"It's no problem," he assures, his gold earrings catching in the slivers of moonlight entering through the window as a lazy smirk grows on his face. "I got ya."

While you'd be willing to skip dinner to stay with the swordsman, your stomach protests with a hefty grumble. Zoro's stomach follows suit, making it's need for food known. The timing of it makes another laugh slide past your lips, a sound that makes his smirk soften into something more genuine.

With a small grunt, he hops off of the top bunk and lands on the floor with a solid thud. "Alright," he starts, stretching his back out a bit more before lifting his head to meet your gaze. "Let's go eat." His arms raise, ready to help you down from the bed. Whether you want to take the ladder or propel yourself into his embrace, he silently vows to be there to offer support. Although Zoro could be stubborn, gruff, and brash, he'd never let you fall, not ever.

#roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader #zoro fluff #zoro x you #zoro x y/n

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whorelaud · 24 days ago

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OFF LIMITS – rafe cameron ¡ (03)

social media & irl AU !

pairing brother's best friend!rafe cameron x brat!reader summary you slide into a random boy's dms on instagram, anything but expecting him to end up being your brother's best friend, let alone the person you'll be spending your summer vacation with. while resisting Rafe and his lingering gazes was an option, you found yourself in the constant loop of crossing the line; said line being your brother. ch content sexual jokes, rafe being a sweetheart( & an idiot) !

NAVIGATION. series masterlist | 02 ¡ 03 ¡ 04

The past week was beyond perfect, you knew something bad was occuring, whether you liked it or not. Unlike what you had in mind, the trip was fun, with you and Sarah attached at the hip, doing everything you missed out on for the past two years.

You partied a decent amount, had a lot of dates and dinners, with Rafe and Ryan third wheeling, of course. And that's besides the beach errands you ran at least twice a day. However, that all came crashing down when you got your period, falling into a state of apathy the moment you discovered you were on it.

It was bearable at first, you still hung out with the rest, sunbathing while they surfed, sat to the side when they cooked, but your cramps had other plans, ruining your day when you no longer could tolerate the pain, leading to no good. You locked yourself in your room, isolating yourself from everyone else, immediately brushing off their attempts to allure you out.

It was that bad, even Sarah chose to keep her distance, giving you space, fully aware of your mood swings when it came to dealing with your period cramps. The blonde did everything in her power to keep you comfortable, only reaching out to you when it was necessary, and to that, you were grateful, because Ryan on the other hand, was behaving like a total bitch.

And well, Rafe was sweet. He was clueless, yet, he knew you were feeling under the weather, offering to take over your tasks when Rysn forced you to do chores. You had to keep reminiscing over the fact that this was a mere joke, and that he’s off limits, hence he’s your brother’s best friend.

But how could you? Rafe was an angel, everything you looked for in a guy, and while it’s only been a bit over a week since you’ve met him, the subtle gazes you exchanged did nothing but create a giddy mess out of you.

You forced yourself out of bed, body drenched with sweat due to the thick hoodie hugging your figure. You approached the bathroom, with the intent of freshening up, eternally grateful it was connected to your room.

With a groan, you reached for the wood cabinets, unlatching them with a swift movement. You reached for the container of spare pads you had brought, heart sinking to your stomach when nothing came within your reach, indicating you were out. That only added to your pent up frustration, letting out a cry as you tossed the box in the trash.

Those were supposed to last you a week, yet, here you were, out on the second day of your period. Usually, your cycle wasn’t on the heavy side, that it completely went past your mind to bring more, just in case it was one of those days.

Your parents were nowhere in sight when you called out for them, implying that they weren’t home. You had no choice but to reach out to Ryan, contemplating whether it was a good idea with how whiny he was, a good chance he’ll probably refuse.

Therefore, it was no surprise when you knocked and called out his name, receiving no response in return. You rolled your eyes, erupting through the door, instantly regretting the gesture as you came to a halt, spotting none other than Rafe on Ryan’s bed, with your brother nowhere in sight.

Rafe was accompanied with his phone, laying flat on his chest, his bare back glowing under the sunlight peeking through the window blinds. You grew flustered to the sight, forcing your eyes away from the latter when he perked up, conscious of your presence mere inches away.

A low hum bubbled out of Rafe’s throat, stretching his arms over his head as he tossed his phone to the side, now facing in your direction. He flashed you a tight-lipped smile, seeking his shirt with his gaze, not wanting to put you in an awkward situation with the state he was in.

Right, he was shirtless, it was rude of you to come in without knocking, especially now, as your gaze burned holes through his skin, too hazed to pull your eyes away from his broad torso. How could you, when his chest was out on display, the view inviting, so there, it left you no choice but to stare?

“Sorry,” you muttered through a breath, clenching the hem of your hoodie in between your fingers. “I didn’t know you’d be in here, I thought Ryan was ignorin’ me.”

“It’s okay,” Rafe reassured, throwing his shirt over his head. “Ryan’s not here, he’s been gone since this morning.”

“Right,” you nodded, his absence skipping over your head. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”

“Do you need anything?” Rafe interrupted your plan of exiting, causing your hand to halt around the doorknob.

“It’s nothing,” you brushed off his concerns with a polite smile, “Jus’ wanted to grab a few things, since the fridge is empty.”

“Okay,” Rafe shot back, springing out of his seat. “Let’s go.”

“Wait, what?” Your eyes slightly widened, taken aback by his suggestion.

“Do you not want to go?” He playfully poked back, strolling past you, your eyes following his figure, landing where he stood against the railing. “I’ll take you.”

“You don’t have to!” You instantly refused, hands waving in front of your chest. “I’ll just wait until he’s back, it’s no big deal–”

“Don’t be stubborn,” Rafe chimed back, his footsteps echoing through your ears, observing as he walked down the stairs. He looked over his shoulder, merely to glimpse in your direction. “I’ll wait for you downstairs, come down when you’re ready.”

Rafe left you no choice but to do as he said, throwing on a decent outfit before heading downstaits, and making your way outside. The latter already had the engine started, his door slightly open, with the hum of the radio playing in the background. He perked up when you approached the car, tossing his phone in the cup holder. Rafe watched as you got in, quickly clicking your seatbelt on, so you don’t delay your leave any longer.

The drive to the grocery store stretched with comfortable silence, atmosphere heavy with tension you both chose not to address, letting it seep through the whole ride. You let out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you were holding, exiting the car as soon as Rafe was parked.

Rafe followed in your steps, attempting to catch up with you through the somewhat cramped space. It was a good grocery run, quick yet filled with chaos, as Rafe stacked the cart with unnecessary things that you knew would go unnoticed, only getting acknowledged once they’re past the due date.

Despite your desperate need for pads; the whole purpose of this errand, your embarrassment took over everytime you circled around the aisle, eyeing it while you tried to come up with a good excuse for you to grab them, feighing the boy’s presence, who was growing suspicious because of how anxious you were.

Rafe could only handle so much, halting when you hit your third round in the ‘hygiene care aisle’, the gesture earning a puzzled expression out of you. You turned in the boy’s direction, breath knocking out of your chest when you caught him observing the various type of pads displayed on the shelves.

“Which one do you want?” He questioned, hand landing on a random brand, one you’ve never heard of before. “This one?” ‘

He knew. The realization made your cheeks flush with heat, feeling it crawl past your neck, and settle across your face, your bewildered expression failing to hide your embarrassment. Usually, you were very vocal about your needs, you don’t get why it was hard to voice out what you wanted, especially in Rafe’s presence.

Whether it’s you being nervous, or embarrassed, either way frustrated you, making you even more confused than you already were.

“What?” You choked out, tensning from where you stood.

“Do you not use that one?” He questioned, eyebrows furrowing with confusion. He clicked his teeth, observing each one, until he pointed at another brand. “How about this one? I heard it’s a good brand.”

“You heard?” You repeated, your voice filled with disbelief. “I– listen, Rafe, I don’t need them, let’s jus’ leave.”

“Who are you fooling here?” He scoffed, slightly teasing with his tone. “You clearly need them, this is the third time we’ve come through this section, it can’t be for no reason.”

You hated that he was right, his statement making you even more flustered, creating a mess out of you in front of him. You cleared your throat, striving to come up with an excuse that will get you out of this situation, merely to result with nothing in return.

“It’s not for me,” shit, “Sarah said she needed pads, it’s not something I could bring up, since you insisted on tagging along.”

“Mhm,” Rafe hummed, a knowing smile tugging at his lips, not convinced by your explanation. “Now tell me, which one do you use?”

“I’m serious!” You exclaimed, abashed by his teasing.

“Sorry, I mean, which one does Sarah use?” He corrected, chest swelling with pride with his words were getting to you, affecting you whole as you stumbled to mutter a coherent sentence out. “Now hurry, we don’t have all day.”

“Oh, shush.” You rolled your eyes, suppressing the smile forming on your lips. “Don’t rush me.”

You paused for a second, snorting when you noticed him reaching for his phone, for the mere purpose of searching the brand he has in hand, his curiosity getting the best of him. You snatched it from his hold, placing it back on the shelf, the action earning a puzzled look out of the boy.

“What was that for?” He started, voice so soft, that you almost felt guilty for interfering.

“It’s not a good brand,” you reasoned, reaching for the one you always used. “This one is, though.”

“Yeah?” Rafe questioned, his lips smudging with a cocky grin. “Does Sarah use it?”

“She does,” you choked out, tossing the box of pads in the cart, completely avoiding Rafe’s gaze. “Let’s leave before it gets dark outside.”

Rafe made sure to grab a few more boxes from the brand you had chosen, throwing them in the cart along with the other stuff you brought. You both stood in line, having gotten everything you wanted, merely needing to check out, and then you’d be ready to go.

There wasn’t plenty of people in front of you, relieved once you eventually reached your turn. Rafe was kind enough to do all the heavy work, handing the stuff for the cashier to check them out, insisting you let him do it when you offered a helping hand.

The lady assisting you grinned, catching sight of all the chocolate bars and essentials displayed in front of her, mind travelling elsewhere at the sight of you two. Rafe stood next to you once he was done, flashing the lady a polite smile, one she swiftly returned.

“You’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you?” She started, her voice earning your attention, as well as Rafe’s, whose knuckles hovered over yours, the fraction sending shivers down your spine. “Taking care of your girlfriend while she’s ill; not a lot of men do that.”

Her words made you stop in your tracks, the assumptions causing your eyes to widen with shock. Your lips parted to speak, striving to correct the lady, action falling short when Rafe beat you to it, the words he mumbled next causing your breath to hitch.

“Aren’t I the sweetest?” He cooed, slinging his arm around your shoulder, then applying enough pressure to bring you close to his chest, now fully tangled in his hold. “Isn’t that right, girlfriend?”

“What the hell are you doing?” You whispered through gritted teeth, just loud enough for Rafe to hear you.

He cocked his head to the side, flashing you a look that almost melted you in the spot, his attempt to get you to go along with the bit totally working, even if it was a low blow. You stiffened under his touch, turning back to the lady, who was admiring you two with so much endearment, you felt guilty confronting her about the situation.

This is not something your brother’s best friend should do; pretend you’re his girlfriend out in public, well aware Ryan would be against it. Hell, if Ryan was there, Rafe would be knocked out on the floor, as you were painfully aware of how protective your brother truly was, especially when it came to his friends.

You’ve had a few of his friends hit on you, and that, it didn’t end quite well, with him cutting them off the moment they crossed the line. You didn’t want that to happen with Rafe, knowing how much Ryan cherished their friendship. Therefore, you didn’t wanna come in between them, ruin the last ounce of hope Ryan was holding onto, even if your emotions got in the way.

The sensation of Rafe’s arm sliding down your waist pulled you out of your head, tensing under the boy when his hand landed just above your hip, his breath fanning over the sliver of skin around your neck not being of much help. And when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did, with the latter leaning forward, and placing a chaste peck to your temple.

His lips burned against your flesh, skin hot on yours, that the moment he withdrew from the touch, you felt the world stop around you, mind too hazy to comprehend the gesture. You stole a glance over your shoulder, instantly fixing your gaze back on the lady when you caught him already staring at you, not failing to hide the smug smile spread across his face.

A sigh of relief escaped your throat when Rafe reached for his wallet, the action creating somewhat of a distance between you two, one you desperately seeked. He handed the lady his card, humming to himself as he punched in his code number, clicking his teeth when it went through, verifying he was done.

“Have a great day.” The lady mumbled, handing Rafe the receipt, with the boy contently accepting it.

“You too,” He forced a smile across his face, pausing before he continued his sentence. “She’s actually my sister, by the way.”

The lady was taken aback by his response, pausing in her spot. She watched Rafe strolling away, turning back to you, as you were just as shocked as she was, frozen where you stood.

“Let’s go, girlfriend.” He tugs your wrist, instantly interwhing your fingers with his.

The walk to the car was silence, the warmness of Rafe’s hand radiating heat through your flesh, the sensation accompanying your head, along with what just happened, the situation shocking you to your core. You felt guilty for the butterflies seeping through your stomach, aware that Rafe was messing around, and that this was nothing you should contemplate about, as he was nothing more than your brother’s best friend.

Rafe let go of your hand, walking around the car, and opening the trunk to throw the stuff inside. He handled them with ease, putting the cart back in the parking area, making sure to be quick with his action. By the time he was back, you were already inside the car, holding back until he took your side to speak.

“What the fuck was that?” You muttered, watching as Rafe started the car, attention fixing on the rearview mirror while he drove out of the parking lot, the hand stretching out to the passenger seat doing things to you.

“What?” He chuckled, manspreading as he adjusted himself into a more comfortable position.

“First, you pretend I’m your girlfriend,” you frowned, a look of disbelief displayed on your face. “Then you proceed to tell her I’m your sister?!”

“C’mon,” he stifled out a laugh, grinning from ear to ear. “You have to admit, it was funny.”

“It wasn’t!” You snorted, rolling your eyes as you relaxed back in your seat, focusing your attention on the road.

“It replaced the frown on your face,” he reasoned, “You can’t tell me it didn’t work.”

That was alone to have you melting, shutting you up right in the spot. The next few minutes filled with silence, background music echoing through your ears as you leaned your head against the window, enjoying the ride back with the dim darkness seeping through.

And you were so close to falling asleep, your plan going interrupted when Rafe approached the Airnbnb, parking the car in the drive through once you were there. You sat up, an exhausted sigh bubbling out of your throat as you stretched your arms over your head.

Rafe grabbed the bags from the trunk, catching up with you once he retrieved everything. You swiftly unlocked the door for him, the gesture earning a grateful smile out of the boy.

“Did you have fun, girlfriend?” Rafe teased, head turning in your direction.

“Oh my god, shut up!” Your pupils dilated with disbelief, taken aback by his question. “Can you not? What if someone hears you?”

“Hear what?”

A familiar voice erupted through your ears, causing you to freeze in your spot. You leisurely turned in the noise’s direction, immediately catching sight of Ryan, who was seated around the table, with food splattered in front of him.

Your throat instantly ran dry, caught off guard by your brother’s presence, mere inches away from where you stood. Your gaze shifted to Rafe as he came in view, walking past you to approach Ryan.

He put the bags on the counter, dabbing Ryan up before he made himself comfortable next to the latter. Ryan whined with complaints, grumbling when Rafe stole a fry from his plate, protesting to the latter eating his food.

“Guess what,” Rafe muffled, swallowing down the food in his mouth. He pointed in your direction, Ryan’s gaze following his finger, until it landed on you. “I took my girlfriend grocery shopping.”

Ryan almost choked on the food he stuffed in his mouth, swiftly turning his head in Rafe’s direction, nearly breaking his neck with the gesture. His eyebrows furrowed with annoyance, growing irritated by the smug expression spread across his best friend’s face.

As for you, you were just as shocked as Ryan was, not expecting Rafe to mention the situation so casually, not in front of Ryan, that’s for sure.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Ryan barely managed to speak.

“What?” Rafe tilted his head to the side, gaze shifting back to you. “She’s my girl.”

“Fuck off, Rafe.” Ryan defensively shot back, “Are you fucking messing with me?”

“He is,” you beat Rafe to responding, afraid something might break out if the latter continued teasing your brother any further. “The lady assumed he was my boyfriend, and he will not shut up about it.”

That earns a giggle out of Rafe, far too amused to acknowledge the fuming boy from beside him, slightly less mad at the explanation you offered him.

They spent the next few minutes bickering, with you technically third wheeling on the side. Rolling your eyes, you took your leave, making sure to grab the bag of pads before you strolled up the stairs, with the intentions of approaching Sarah’s room.

Fortunately, her door was slightly ajjared, the sight of Sarah sprawled across the bed filling the majority of your view. You knocked on the door, peaking your head through to earn the girl’s attention, successfully doing so as she glanced over, gasping when she spotted you.

“Bug!” She chimed, her excitement a silent invitation for you to enter.

“Hi,” you flashed her a smile, instantly embracing the girl in a hug once she was within your reach. “I missed you.”

“Me too,” she muttered, face nuzzled in the crook of your neck. “Where were you?! ‘Haven’t seen you all day.”

“I went grocery shopping with Rafe.” You casually responded, your answer earning a scuff out of Sarah.

“I knew it!” She pulled back, rolling her eyes with a hint of annoyance. “Is that why you both randomly disappeared?”

“I guess,” you pursed your lips into a thin line, suppressing the smile forming on your lips. “It was an emergency, he insisted on taking me, though I was planning on going with Ryan.”

Sarah nodded with understandment, eyes trailing to the bag in your hand, instantly catching on to what you meant.

“I did lie, though.” You confessed, nose scrunching with shame.

“About what?” Sarah chuckled, perking with interest.

“I said they were for you,” your eyes forced shut, “I’m sorry, okay? He put me in the spot, that was the only thing I could come up with!”

“No, that’s–” Sarah’s sentence was interrupted by the burst of giggles erupting out of her throat, unable to contain her laughter for any longer. “That’s totally valid.”

“Why are you laughing, then?!” You chimed in on her laughter, lightly slapping her shoulder.

“I’m telling you Bug,” Sarah started, suppressing her chuckles. “He’s not buying that.”

“You’re making it worse!” You groaned into your hands, falling back on her bed, now faced with the ceiling. “I can’t even face him, you should see the stunt he pulled on me in the store.”

“Oh, that doesn’t sound good…” she trailed off, waiting for you to continue.

“Well, we were checking out, then this cashier said he was a gentleman, blah blah blah, she assumed I was his girlfriend, and he sort of went along with it?” You explained, face flushing with heat as you reminisced back on the memory, recalling the feeling of his lips brushing over your temple. “He was acting like an idiot, going all ‘aren’t I the sweetest, girlfriend?’ The lady totally believed it! And guess what, Sarah?!”

“What?!” Sarah almost gasped, curiosity getting the best of her.

“He fucking kissed me!”

At that, an audible gasp escaped Sarah’s throat, shock displaying across her face as her hand came up to cover her parted mouth.

“No fucking way!” She whisper-yelled, repeatedly slapping your arm with excitement. “Was it on like– you know–”

“No!” You clarified, growing flustered due to her assumption. “He kissed my temple, barely even a kiss, but it still happened.”

“You know, I was so invested, I forgot he was my brother.” Sarah mumbled, her statement easing the awkward tension seeping through. “That’s crazy– I mean, not to be weird or anything, but Rafe’s never this touchy with anyone, he sucks at showing affection, especially in public.”

“Don’t say that,” you started, feeling your pulse quicken over her words. “I’m barely holding back as is.”

“Shut up!” Sarah scoffed, “But I’m serious, I’ve received a lot of complaints from his past girlfriends about that, I’m surprised he’d pull something like this, with you, of all people.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be against this?!” You rolled your eyes, covering how flustered you were with fake annoyance. “Why are you encouraging it?”

“I mean, it’s not like I can stop you two from liking each other,” she cocked her head to the side, voice tinted with hope. “Besides, I’ll be happy with any decision that you make, as long as you don’t get hurt, of course!”

“Sarah,” your lips formed into a pout, not expecting her supportive words, though they drove you over the edge, with the forming crush sparkling through your heart. “Stop, why are you so sweet?”

“Oh, come on, I've always been sweet to you.” She cooed, cupping your face with her hands. “Now stop acting sappy, and go freshen up so we can watch a movie.”

“Fine!” You mumbled, chuckling when Sarah pecked your forehead, the sensation like feathers on your skin. “That tickles!”

“It’s a goodbye’s kiss!” She exclaimed, joining in on your giggles. “I know you’ll take long to shower.”

“I’ll be fast.” You replied, getting up from Sarah’s bed, the gesture earning groans of protest from the girl.

You barely managed to escape Sarah’s grip, walking back to your room. A hint of confusion washed over your voice, noticing the way your door cracked half way through, when you could’ve sworn you shut it before you left.

The frown on your face was instantly replaced with a smile as you caught sight of the snacks spread across your bed, along with a heating pad on the side, the familiar chocolate bars unveiling the identity of the person who sprawled these out for you.

Your eyebrows curled at the sight of the cyan pink sticky note just above the heating pad, growing intrigued as you reached out to grab it, the smile on your face spreading into a foolish grin once you read what was written on it.

I know it’s not much, but I hope you feel better, girlfriend ;) - r

Your heart skipped a beat at the note, feeling heat crawl past your neck, until it settled on your face. It wouldn't hurt to thank him for this, right? It’s not like you were making a move on him, your action a mere return for his act of kindness, nothing more.

So you did, slightly hesitating as you exited your room, with the purpose of searching for Rafe. You followed the distant voice echoing through your ears, the sound growing louder the closer you approached the narrowed hallway.

He must’ve been downstairs, along with Ryan, in the same position you left them in, probably still arguing over something absurd. The thought brought a smile to your lips, instantly fading once their words filled the echo of your ears. While you didn't mean to eavesdrop, you were somewhat glad that you did, Rafe’s next statement making your heart sink to your stomach, panic settling through your chest.

“–Not! Relax Ryan,” Rafe argued, his voice slightly muffled. “I’m not gonna date your sister.”

Oh.

“Don’t fuck with me, Rafe.” Ryan shot back, pent up frustration visible through his tone. “I told you already, my sister is off limits, don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”

Rafe nodded, face twisting into something serious, replacing the teasing grin he had on his face.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he replied, “She’s like Sarah to me, and you know that.”

Humilation couldn’t describe how you felt in the moment, his statement like a punch to your stomach. A wave of emotions rushed through your insides, ones you couldn’t even concentrate into words.

That should’ve been expected, however, it hurt hearing it out loud, from Rafe of all people.

a/n hi!! i hope you enjoyed it heheeh i promise i have soething planned out theyre not going too fast

TAGLIST @greyswaren @slut-4-gojo @depthsofdespairr @littlelamy @lilithblackkk @cnnamongrl @mattyskies @percysley @jaklvbub @inlovewithdob @ilovefiction4lmen @theeternaloptimistt @maybejj @icaqttt @idgasb @purplerose291 @shincidios @laniirackssss @malibuhearts @adulterated-cocaine @bugg06 @murdockcastleslut @drwstarkeys @pretymads @klmaaaoooo @wearemadeofstardust0 @urbrunettebombshell @stylestarkey @riverxsq @louxmcl @totalswag @cl4uus @simpforboys @tearsfromasliverwolf-blog @bilssturns @fandomhopped @strsdoulikedem @congratsloserr @dr3wstarkey @xoxo-ada @stvrligghtt @rafeswhoooreee @kythefangirl25 @chaneydoll @blushmimi @akobx @empath-bunny @flirtism @stopnala @rafecameronswifeyy

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x brat!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smau #rafe cameron social media au #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #obx #drew starkey

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emphistic · 8 months ago

Text

What is Love?

Picking Yuuji up from school was not a rare occurrence. On the other hand, picking Yuuji up from school while accompanied by Sukuna was a rare occurrence.

Kids are flocking to you like birds, asking if you were Yuuji's mom, and who that creepy man next to you was — this all reminded said creepy man about why this was a rare occurrence, and how it should stay one.

The final straw for Sukuna snaps when a little boy, probably around Yuuji's age, approaches you with his hands behind his back. "Hi, you are very pretty. Can I be your boyfriend?"

You looked a bit taken aback, before remembering this was a kid talking to you, and kids could be quite . . . odd. "Um, thank you! You are very sweet, but, I already have a boyfriend."

Sukuna smirks to himself, a smug expression painted on his face.

"That's okay. I have two girlfriends; you can have two boyfriends," the kid giggled. "He doesn't have to know."

At this, Sukuna glares at the little boy, fully prepared and ready to beat him up, but he halted, as you placed a coaxing hand on his arm.

"Umm—"

"Here!" The boy shoved a daffodil into your hands, it was covered in dirt and had a few missing pedals.

"Oh! This is—"

"I picked it up from over there," he pointed a little finger across the school. "It's pretty. And you're pretty. So it's for you! Hehe, pretty flower for pretty lady."

Just then, Yuuji came running out of the school's doors — backpack aggressively shaking and threatening to fall off of his little arms — and into your arms, well . . . legs actually. But he demanded to be in your arms.

"Up! Up!"

"Okay, Yuuji." You hoisted him up and he immediately went to bury his face into your neck, calming down from his hyper-ness when he breathed in your perfume.

"How was school, baby?"

"It was so fun! I missed you though." You felt Yuuji frown in your neck.

"Aww, well I'm here now. Let's go home, kay? Then we can make up for the time you missed me, how about that?" You rubbed Yuuji's back.

"Okay!"

Unfortunately for the other boy that was still staring up at you — and now Yuuji, too — he was long forgotten by you. Your full attention now on Yuuji.

When the pink-haired kid is finally in the car, after wrestling to not be strapped down by the seatbelt, he immediately goes to working on an assignment. Strange, you thought, looking back at him through the rear-view mirror. Yuuji hates homework.

This continues when you three get back to the apartment. Yuuji immediately slips off his shoes and takes off to his bedroom, assignment and pencil pouch in hand.

You turn to looked at Sukuna, "I thought he wanted to play first?"

Sukuna shrugged, not knowing what his brother was up to, "He's a weirdo, you know that."

You frowned, "I'm bored."

"I know a way to pass the time."

An hour later, you exit your shared bedroom — planning to start on dinner — just to find notes and drawings all over the apartment. On the floor, in the potted plants, on the coffee table, shoved in crevices on the couch, everywhere.

Picking up a few piece of paper, you find yourself reading:

"Deer Y/N,

You are so nise to me.

You are very good at macking food.

I love you!"

"You are so amazing!"

"I love you so mutch!"

"Y/N is good and nise and prety."

Some drawings even depicted you and Yuuji holding hands.

While eating dinner, you decided to question a very smiley and giggling Yuuji, to find out that he had an assignment to show his appreciation to someone he loved.

Most of the notes were only directed to you, but some of the drawings had Sukuna too. The rest of the evening, Yuuji spent telling you and Sukuna how much he loved you guys. Quietly, and going unnoticed by Yuuji and you, Sukuna reciprocated his brother's affection.

A/N: loosely based on this ask — this was supposed to be wayyyy shorter, but i got a bit carried away

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk @lillycore @deepchromatose @yinyinyinyinyinyin @fivehoneyharg @desihopelessromantic @lich1 @hannas16 @acroso

#sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #sukuna fluff #em writes ˎˊ˗

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submattenthusiast · 4 months ago

Text

obsessed

pairings; sub!matt x soft!dom reader (no use of y/n)

contents; smut; boob sucking, mommy kink, cum in pants etc.

summary - matt is obsessed with your tits!

wc; 1.3k

notes; not proofread.

obsessed is an understatement. matt was fascinated, captivated, and fixated on your boobs. anytime he could hold, touch, or suck he would.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

it was beginning to get dark outside and your boyfriend, matt was nowhere to be found. he had been out for a few hours now. before he left the house he told you he was heading to top golf with a few friends. he had kindly offered an invitation but you declined, not wanting to socialize today.

the sound of keys jingling outside the door rang through the house, notifying you that matt was home. you remained in your position on the couch, too lazy to get up to greet him. light footsteps were heard as matt trudged up the stairs. his face lit up as he entered the living room and saw you there.

“hiya, baby!” he happily spoke. he slipped his shoes off before making his way over to you. “hi babe, have fun?” you greeted with a smile. reaching the foot of the couch, he plopped down on top of you, an “oomph” was heard as your bodies collided. you adjusted your body under him so that he wasn’t crushing you. he attempted to speak but was having difficulties due to his head being smushed in your chest.

“mhm, missed you way too much” he whined. you caressed his hair while he squirmed around, trying to get comfortable. “yeah baby?” you cooed. he nodded with a huff. the huff threw you off. you immediately sensed something was up. “matt.. what’s wrong?” you asked concerned. he shifted around with huffs and puffs, moving his body and head left to right and up and down. as if he were lying on the bed instead of you.

“i want to be closer to you, i need to be closer’’ he groaned, genuinely frustrated. he scanned your body for a way to be closer. “closer??... your full body is on top of mine how much closer can you get?” you said with a giggle. he paused for a second before reaching for the bottom of your shirt. his large hands fiddled nervously with the fabric. he looked at you with the sweetest look but also for permission. “please? want your boobs’’ he pleaded. his eyes were full of desperation. “please what matthew? you know better”. he whimpered before shyly responding. “please mommy?” he practically begged. his cheeks burned bright red. matt only called you mommy or mama during sex.

“good boy, they’re all yours” you praised. you moved your hands to remove your shirt before getting interrupted. matt’s hand abruptly stopped yours, halting your movements. “keep it on please ma? just gonna put my head under”. and that he did. he scooted down on the couch, his crotch resting on your thighs and his head on your chest. his brown curls peeked out from the top of your shirt. luckily you decided to wear an oversized shirt today. he sighed contently as he was finally comfy.

“can i?” he spoke, pawing at your boobs. his head was resting between your boobs. he moved an arm up into your shirt. target being your left boob. matt’s calloused hand felt rough against your soft skin. “mhm,” you groaned. you were getting impatient. you loved the feeling of his mouth on your breast. sharp teeth grazing the soft skin just right.

upon your approval, matt attached his mouth to your right boob. massaging with the left one so she wouldn’t feel left out. his tongue explored every inch of your breast, not leaving any spot untouched. you whined out, the pleasure going straight to your core. your hands instinctively reached out for his hair, forgetting his position. you needed something to grab on, and your fingers grip the couch under you.

“thank you mommy” he mumbled. “needed this so bad, need my mouth to be full of you all the time” he moaned. you giggled at his ridiculous statement. you peeked under your shirt to look at the boy. drool was slipping from the corners of his mouth and his eyes were squeezed shut.

lost in the pleasure he was giving you, you missed his growing boner and the slight movements of his hips. he was lazily grinding his crotch against your thigh. you were both in bliss as loud whimpers and moans sounded throughout the room. “fuck you taste so good, could stay here forever” he groaned, finally coming up for air.

“matt?” you whispered, brows furrowed. you moved your hands from your sides to his hair, as you couldn’t before. your words made him stop his movements. nervous and embarrassed that you noticed what he was doing so quickly. “hm?” he tried to sound as nonchalant as possible. “are you hard right now..?” you spoke, holding back a laugh. he lowered his head back under your shirt before he responded, acting as if the shirt would hide his boner. “yeah yes fuck i am” he faintly spoke.

“i just couldn’t help myself i’m sorry i’ll stop if you want” he babbled assuming you were mad. your face softened at his words. “finish what you started and you better not stop until you cum since you’re so desperate” you demanded. you lifted the soft fabric once more, making eye contact with his blue eyes making sure he understood you. matt nodded eagerly.

“yes, mommy i will” he responded shyly. “c-can i have your boobs while i do it please” he pleaded with you. your soft hands stroked his pink cheeks affectionately. in awe of how good he was being for you. “need them to cum sweet boy?” you cooed. “yes yes mama please” he whined.

matt leaned back down, and latched his mouth onto your left boob now, whispering soft apologies. he tugged on the hem of your shirt, wanting you to pull it back down. obeying his wants you slowly pulled it down, being careful not to hit his head. you opened your legs wider under him, giving him the room he needed to properly move. he began rutting his crotch against your thigh,the rough material of his jeans scratching at the plush skin. you wrapped your hands around his waist, helping him steady his pace

matt moaned at your touch, mumbling a thank you into your boob. you thought he looked so pretty like this. mouth full of your tit,eyes shut in bliss. so desperate. so needy.

your breathing got heavier as the wet patch on your underwear grew. you were calling him desperate and needy, forgetting about your predicament. his mouth felt heavenly against your nipple. you weren’t gonna cum, this wasn’t about you.

the hands on his waist to help steady his pace were no help. his hips had a mind of their own. his moans got louder and more high pitched. you knew he was getting close. you were grinning at the power you had over him. making him cum just from your boobs. “mommy— fuck i’m close please let me cum” matt begged, tone full of need.

“cum for me sweet boy, i got you” you praised. he sped up his movements,eager to cum. a few more thrusts from him did the job. thick ropes of cum filled his boxers, a wet patch forming. slightly spilling through and onto his jeans. lewd moans and groans shot out his mouth as he came down from his high. “ngh- fuck fuck thank you” he repeated.

you moved slighty to push him up off you, causing him to protest immediately. whining at the loss of contact. he attempted to reattach himself to you but quickly failed. “you need to get cleaned up matt’’ you spoke sternly, unimpressed by his behavior. “be a good boy for mommy” you said knowingly. praise was his weakness.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

notes - ASS ENDING SORRY! i hope you enjoyed mwah <3

taglist; @mattybsgroupie @frnkocnlvr @fratboychrisera @issysh3ll

#matt sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #sub matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo angst #jules writes 📓 !!

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vampiric-tempt · 3 months ago

Text

≡;- ꒰ °When they get jealous ꒱

➤ tw: slight suggestive themes

a/n: I've been really rusty with writing recently. Like really rusty, but I hope this is okay !! >:3

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Roronoa Zoro

Zoro’s brow twitched in annoyance as he heard your laughs across the deck. And not to him, but to the damn cook who swooned over your presence.

Sanji continued to pepper your arms with kisses, giving you drinks and snacks whenever you wanted it. It was like he was crazier over you than anybody else on the ship. His partner.

Zoro was too caught up in his thoughts, as he absent mindedly lifted his weights.

“Zo?” You called. “Hey! Zo!” Your hands waved across his face causing him to jolt a little.

“Y/n, hey.” Was all he said as he continued to lift his weights.

You frowned. “Are you okay? You seem…off.”

“I’m fine.” He grunted, dropping his weights. He brushed past you and positioned himself for pushups.

You immediately knelt beside him with your lips pursed. You had a vague idea why he was acting this way and it was always for the same reason. “Y’know Sanji is just being nice.”

“Yeah.” Zoro deadpans. “Is kissing your arms nice?”

“N-no not necessarily…”

Zoro directed his eyes to the ground and started his routine. “We’re done here.”

Not wanting to end the conversation, you persisted. “It’s just his nature Zo, y’know that. There’s no need to be jealous-”

“Jealous? Is that what you think this is?” He huffed.

You bit the inside of your lips. “This is exactly what this is. I’m not blind.”

Zoro halted his movements and moved to position himself in front of you. “Do you ever think to ask why I feel that way?”

“Can I ask now?” You leaned to meet his gaze.

Zoro grumbled to himself. His hand rubbed against his neck. He didn’t know what he felt at that moment. Jealousy over Sanji, or the fluttery feeling in his stomach as you gave him that stupid look with your stupid cute eyes. “S’just I can’t provide the romance Sanji does. Sometimes I think you want that…and I can’t give it.”

A small smile reached your lips at Zoro’s vulnerability. “No, I think you’re perfect.”

The tips of Zoro’s ears reddened. “Yeah right.”

“No I’m being serious,” You scooted closer to him, hands tilting his head. “You’re my handsome boy.”

Zoro’s face flushed as he looked away, your gaze too strong. “Alright that’s enough!” He gently shoves you causing you to laugh.

“What, I thought you liked that nickname?”

Zoro huffed. “I never said that.”

You hummed. “Are youuuu feeling any better?”

Zoro scratched the back of his head in thought and turned to you, a smirk across his face. “I will once you meet me in the bird’s nest tonight.”

Shaking your head you threw out a pinky “That’s a promise then, you dog.”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Crocodile

Miss All Sunday was a beautiful woman. Crocodile knew that, but he didn’t like the way she had you all over her. You were soooo curious about the books she has read, why didn’t you ask him about books. He read too.

About five more minutes, Crocodile had enough. He made his way over and hooked you toward him. “Miss All Sunday, I think you’ve had something of mine a little too long. I require my partner’s presence now.”

Robin smiled, she knew her actions had irked the man. “My apologies, I wasn’t aware you could get so jealous of us bonding over books?”

Crocodile tsked and left without a second to spare, dragging you along with his hook.

“You were jealous?” You asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

“Hardly, I merely wanted you is all.”

“Yeahh.” You dropped the subject and allowed your lover to drag you through the long corridor till you both stopped at a pair of dark oak doors.

His hook ushered you in and you gasped at the sight. It was a large old looking library. “Since when was this here?” You awed.

“Since forever. I just never bothered with it. But you, my love, seem to have an interest in books.”

You smirked. “So you were jealous. It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

Crocodile rolled his eyes. “My love, if it’s books you want, I have way more than what that woman can give.”

“And I appreciate the show of love.” Your hands dragged across the dusty books. “This actually means a lot, thank you.”

You felt Crocodile’s hook hug your body as he dragged you toward him once again, his other hand making itself comfortable on your waist. “I can provide you way more than just books.” His tone lowered causing you to suck in your breath.

“I know that.”

“Then why don’t I show you how much more I can provide you…perhaps in the master bedroom, my love?”

You placed a hand on his chest, the scent of his cigar blinding your senses. “I would love that actually.”

“Then allow me.” He lifted you into his arms, making his way down the hall. You laughed excitedly and as you passed another hallway, your eyes met with Robin’s and all she gave was a wink before she left you two to your fun.

You had to thank her later.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Trafalgar Law

He felt absolutely nothing whenever it was his crew hanging around you, but when his crew met up with the Strawhats and Kid pirates. He didn’t know what to feel when you got involved in a conversation between Zoro and the massacre soldier. Two relatively attractive men.

Did he feel a little insecure, yes. But he wouldn’t admit that. Never in his life would he.

It wasn’t till you two were alone in the tang, getting ready for bed did Law decide to speak up.

“So, you seem very fond of the other crews.”

“Oh,” You perked up at your boyfriend’s voice. “Yeah, they seem really cool.”

Law nodded at your statement. “I could see how some could be cool. Is there any that peak your interest?”

You pondered for a bit. “Um yeah, why the sudden questions Law?”

Law shrugged. “Just curious s’all.”

Shrugging you purse your lips in thought. “Well, I find the swordsman and massacre soldier really cool. Especially since they fought recently.”

“Yeah I saw you three talking.” Law says.

“Yep, I was asking them about fighting tips, y’know useful things for further battles.”

Law hummed. “I see.”

You tilted your head, eyes analyzing your lover. “Were you by any chance…jealous?”

“Never.” Law was quick as he sat himself on his side of the bed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You laughed.

“Why are you laughing, there’s nothing funny.” Law said defensively.

“Oh I knowww it’s just, you can be so cute sometimes.”

Law gave a look of embarrassment, eyes flickering between you and the wall. “C-cute??” I’m not cute.”

“Okay okay,” You scooted beside him. “You’re handsome.”

Law smiled, leaning into your touch. “As you are, Y/n-ya.” He moved in for a kiss, a kiss you happily accepted. Your hands entangled in his as he moved over your body, arms on either side of your head.

Law pulled away from the kiss with a smirk. “You do a lot of things to me Y/n-ya.”

“Like what?”

“Make me realize I’m the luckiest man alive. I never thought I’d be able to find love till I found you.”

You pulled Law in for a chaste kiss. “If making you jealous makes you this romantic, I would’ve done it sooner.”

“Don’t dream of it.” Law pinches your cheek and settles beside you. “If I were actually jealous I’d do a lot more than just be romantic, you know that.”

“Ohhh I know.”

#gender neutral reader #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #crocodile x reader

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jjunberry · 2 months ago

Text

now playing 📽️ “punishment of a slut”

🎞️ you get what’s coming to you after you hatch a plan to make sunghoon jealous.

staring 🎬 park sunghoon x fem!reader, ft jay

⭐️ genre smut, slightly fwb

warnings 🎥 mean dom hoon, degradation, rope play, unprotected sex, creampie, kind of facials, name calling (he calls reader, slut and bitch a lot) marking, rough sex etc read at your own risk

wc .ᐟ 1.2k mlist .ᐟ

you were in for it, his piercing gaze could be felt on you with each move you made. the way your hips swayed against jay’s crotch. jay’s hands were tight against your hips, guiding your movements. this was wrong you knew it was, but sunghoon never made anything official with you, you just wanted to teach the boy a lesson. show him what he was missing, and show him you did. all night you clung to jay, dancing and drinking with him going out of your way to ignore sunghoon.

sunghoon finally had enough, he threw his head back finishing his drink in one gulp. his thick brows furrowed together as he stomped his way across the dance floor. your movements are halted as sunghoon’s hands grip your hair in a ponytail. he pulled you from jay’s grasp, making you look up at him. he brought his other hand up and patted your cheek, prompting you to open your mouth. looking at up him with an open mouth had his dick twitching in his pants. sunghoon was quick to spit a fat glob of spit in your mouth. you swallowed his saliva eagerly.

he leaned down to your ear, “apologize to jay for being a slut because we are leaving,” he let your hair go and shoved you towards jay. “i-i’m sorry for being a slut jay,” you said. jay smirked at sunghoon who was fuming behind you. “you’re in trouble,” he laughed before backing away into the crowd. sunghoon’s hand came down on your shoulder before he guided you out of the club and to his awaiting car.

sunghoon opened your door, allowing you to get inside before slamming the door closed. the loud noise had you jump in your seat. he rounded the car and got inside, slamming his door as well. his clenched jaw and furrowed eyebrows had you clenching around nothing. sunghoon caught site of you squirming in your seat, desperately searching for friction. he was quick to land a smack against your thigh, leaving a red mark in its wake. “you’re such a fucking slut,” he grunted before increasing his speed while driving. he couldn’t wait to get you home. with each minute spent in the car the more your panties got wet.

the car came to a stop outside of sunghoon’s apartment. he turned the car off and quickly got out. opening your door he gripped your wrist pulling you along with him. you stumbled trying to keep up with his long strides. “sunghoon slow down,” he whipped his head towards you “you don’t get to talk,” he snapped. your mouth instantly shut at his words. sunghoon unlocked his apartment pulling you inside with him.

once inside he slammed the door closed, turning his icy gaze towards you. “strip, i want to see every inch of you he’s touched.” you quickly shimmed out of your dress, letting the thin material pool around your ankles. you stood there left in nothing but a pair of baby blue panties with a dark patch, letting sunghoon know just how much this turns you on.

“go upstairs, i want you face down do you understand?” you nodded. sunghoon gripped your throat, “i said do you understand?,” nodding again “yes,” you answered. sunghoon let you go. “good now go,” you were quick to run upstairs. once in his bedroom you positioned yourself as he said. your ass was up in the air and your head resting on a pillow.

sunghoon made his way upstairs a few minutes later. peaking behind you he stood there, with a glass of whiskey in one hand with the other he removed his belt. a small gasp left your lips, “eyes forward bitch,” you were quick to look away from him. he finished his drink before approaching you, using his belt he tied your wrists together behind your back. the cool leather felt nice against your hot skin.

he gripped your wrists and shoved you face down into the pillow, his free hand pulling your panties down. “oh fuck,” he muttered at the sight of your soaked pussy. “look at you, soaked completely..is this for me or for jay?” he smacked your ass. “i-it’s for you hoon its always for you,” he smirked at your desperation. “i know it is, jay’s not man enough to handle a bitch like you,” with that he landed another smack on your ass.

sunghoon freed himself from his pants, leaving him in his boxers wirh a prominent tent formed. “turn around, on your knees,” he ordered you. you were quick to wiggle around and set up on your knees, arms still tightly secured behind your back. sunghoon looked down at you, “open your mouth slut,” you opened your mouth instantly. he pushed his boxers down, freeing his large cock. precum dripped from the tip, you eagerly leaned towards his length.

he smacked his tip against your tongue a few times before shoving his cock in your mouth. you gagged when the tip hit the back of your throat. choking on him for a few minutes before you gained composure and started breathing through your nose. his right hand gripped your hair into a ponytail and used it as leverage to thrust deeper into your throat.

sunghoon threw his head back groaning deeply, “ah fuck,” his thrusting became quicker before he stilled shooting his thick load down your throat. he pulled out watching what cum you didn’t swallow spill from your lips. his dick twitched at the site of your mascara and eyeliner smeared, cum dripping from your chin. sunghoon lifted you from your position and tossed you flat onto the bed. you squirmed at the discomfort of your arms behind your back. sunghoon eyed you, finally deciding to free your arms.

you had no time to soothe the ache in your arms because sunghoon was on top of you in an instant. he pushed your legs into your chest, pushing his hard cock into your aching pussy. “oh fuck hoon,” you moaned when he bottomed out. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. sunghoon leaned back wrapping his hand around your neck. “look at you so desperate for me, want me to fuck you like the bitch you are?,” you nod desperately. “yeah?,” he asked again snapping his hips against yours. “f-fuck yes, fuck me like the bitch i am,” you begged. sunghoon smirked before gripping your hips and thrusting into you roughly. your nails raked down his back, and with once final harsh thrust he released his load into your fucked out pussy. he thrust into you one more time causing the knot in your stomach to snap. he pulled out and your body was left shaking, as his cum dripped from your used pussy.

sunghoon backed away from you admiring the finger shaped bruises on your hips. the feeling of jay’s hands long forgotten as the sting of sunghoon’s grip still radiated through your body. sunghoon disappeared into the bathroom, you heard the shower running. you laid there fucked out, and sticky with sunghoon’s cum. you knew you weren’t getting aftercare, this was your punishment for being a slut. a small smile took over your face, already thinking of ways to piss him off again.

credits 📹 this one is for kipo (who held me at gunpoint) i hope you enjoyed this one pookie ♡!!

special thanks to 📸 @jjunieworld @304files @ghstzzn @miaroseindreamland @babymochibeargyu @seuliecore

love , echo ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪

#k-labels #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop writers #jjunberry

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yourcutelittlegayfriend · 2 months ago

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Imagine this

I've been reading some of this good fics about Yandere Batfam x neglected Reader and it got me thinking.

In some of this fic, usually it's Alfred that has given the reader some love and have not neglected the poor thing and I was like,

What if Reader is still neglected by the batfam but Alfred gave them enough love so much that reader just decided to stay just for Alfred and Reader really just treated Alfred as their real Father or Grandfather.

Where Reader just let go of any expectation from getting attention from the others and just strive to make Alfred proud and happy.

How the turns have table

Imagine reader walking pass the others not bothering to greet them as they look for Alfred instead and other stuff.

Dick seeing them practically skipping as they clutch on a medal hanging on their neck.

"Woah hey!-...um whatcha got-". He tries to say but doesn't get any answers because you were busy muttering to yourself 'I got first place! I have to show this to Alfred!' as you giggle while looking down at the medal and sprint away when you see a glimpse of the butler at the distance.

How instead of begging for the others to train you and become a vigilante, you ask Alfred to train you for self-defense (especially the stuff from his spy days).

Jason was the first to arrive at the manor when the team heard about some intruders getting in but halted when he sees you tying up the unconscious thugs on the floor.

"Hey Alfred is this right?". You didn't pay them any mind when some of them pile in as you pay attention to Alfred who was praising you and giving you more good defense tips while you and him pull the unconscious people out.

How you spend healthy family time with Alfred by helping him in cooking and chores that earns you some knowledge of the recipes from his famous dishes.

Tim was trying to grab a coffee when he sees you having a fun time with Alfred as you skillfully prepare for dinner and actually have good laughs with him.

"Okay, then after I fold this I should add some paprika, right?". You ask the butler as he smiles at you while sipping on the tea that you made for him.

"Yes, you're correct once again young miss/master". He said while humming after drinking the tea indicating how good it is.

Tim can practically see you lighting up as you cheered a 'yes!' from Alfred's confirmation.

How you revolved your time and passion to Alfred and actually deciding that only Alfred is the one you should waste your time on.

Damian wonders around the manor when you and him bump into one another.

"And what are YOU doing walking around MY Father's manor?". He asks while glaring at you.

you just sigh and turn while clutching away the art supplies you bought so you can paint in the garden with Alfred.

"Walking away from you that's what I'm doing". you tell him as you turn the other way not even bothering to argue with the boy anymore.

How you do well in your studies and aim to get a good degree/phd and act like a proper man/lady but not because you want to keep up to being a Wayne but to see Alfred's proud face as he watches you stand on the stage as you show him your diploma/degree certificate.

Bruce decided to take a walk from sitting down for too long when he walk pass a framed picture on the hallway near Alfred's room and double takes when he sees you and Alfred standing together with while you were wearing a toga and cap holding not just any graduation certificate but a college one as the both of you look so happy and him seeing Alfred having that loving and well pleased expression something he rarely sees from Alfred after becoming the crusading dark knight.

Looking at the date he couldn't believe that it has been more that a few years since the graduation happened.

All of the family who used to ignore you suddenly took a different turn and started to try and get your attention but they fail to see that you already moved on from them and only cared about the one person that have literally loved you from the beginning.

Bonus:

Imagine Thomas and Martha Wayne was mysteriously revived for a day and met the family but was deeply disappointed to the others and took a special liking to reader because Alfred has said many good things about them and them especially getting many good degrees something that the rest haven't gotten yet or never bothered to get (this is my hot take because my family are hellbent on us cousins to finish school) and you know for a fact that Alfred is really REALLY proud of the kid that he raised preciously

#x neglected reader #batfam x reader #yandere #yandere batfam

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rafecameronsslut4ever · 3 months ago

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MISS YOU — rafe cameron (smut, angst, nsfw)

pairing; ex-boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader summary: years after your breakup, rafe cameron crawls back into your life when he realises that you might have started moving on. a/n: omg this was so long i think i got carried away warnings: smut 18+, a LOT of angst, mdni, fingering, oral (f receiving), name calling, unprotected sex.

He does not knock.

Rafe Cameron barges into your dimly lit apartment instead of knocking the door and allowing you to let him in. He walks right past you, ignoring the frown on your face, and collapses down on your couch.

His shoulders are relaxed, arms stretched out along the back of the couch as he settles in and looks around your apartment.

His blue eyes are dart everywhere, but they don’t meet yours. His veiny hands are tapping away on his thighs—the same hands that used to envelope yours perfectly.

His blonde hair is longer than it was when you two were together—they're curling over his forehead. The length is almost too long, it makes him look shaggy, and yet it suits him nevertheless.

Your fists clench. Suddenly, the warmth of your home has vanished because of his presence.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" His voice is raspy and rough, almost as if he had just woken up, but you can tell from his red eyes and the dark circles underneath that he hasn't slept a wink.

"What do you want, Rafe?"

He finally turns his gaze to you, and the sight makes your knees go weak. You want to sit down next to him and bury your head into his chest, but you know that can't happen anymore.

He stands up, making you take a step back. You don't miss the hurt look in his eyes, but he hides it quickly and walks towards you.

The light coming out of the television playing in the background illuminates Rafe's face, his jawline sharp and his lips pulled in a soft frown.

He walks past you, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"What the hell?" You murmur, following him as he walks towards the kitchen.

He halts to a stop and you stand behind him, feeling like a mouse in his tall presence. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

He rolls his eyes and turns around to face you. His eyes stare into yours, resulting in the formation of a lump in your throat as your eyes meet for the first time in years.

“Who is he?” Rafe asks bitterly, his eyes not leaving your face. “The guy you were with yesterday at the Golf Club. Even better, where is he?"

Yesterday, your date made a reservation at the Golf Club for your first date, and the smug part of you had wished the Rafe saw the two of you together—which he apparently did.

You had a good time with the boy. He even dropped you off to your house afterwards. He was sweet, polite and soft-spoken. The complete opposite of your ex-boyfriend.

"Rafe, leave."

He scoffs, running his tongue along his inner-cheek. His eyes still burn into yours.

He brings a cold finger to your face and the metal of his ring faintly touches your cheek. You suck in a deep breath as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

You look away from him, unable to stand the intensity of his eyes. You know what he wants, and you won't allow yourself to give in to him.

Almost turning away, you feel him grab your face and force you to look at him. He's staring down at you in a way that makes your heart dip.

You can't believe you used to know this man, can't believe you shared the same bed with him and loved him so unconditionally.

His eyes drop down to your lips, and then back up to your eyes. "Kiss me."

It's your turn to scoff. You try to pry his hand off your face, but he doesn't bulge. He simply leans his face closer to yours, the faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes enveloping your nose.

"Don't tell me that you don't miss it," his thumb moves against your cheek. "I've thought about you every night since the day we broke up. You know, you're the only thing that stays on my mind."

"Rafe—"

"No," his jaw is clenched. "Let me finish, alright? I-I can't eat, I can't sleep. I'm fucking useless without you. I need you."

You push his chest away from you. "And whose fault is that, huh?"

"Please," his voice cracks. "Baby, please."

"Oh my god, just-just stop this, okay? Rafe, you didn't even remember our anniversary! The whole day you were getting high with B-"

"I don't care!" He shouts, interrupting you. "I don't care, okay? I just need you, and you need me too! Tell me you don't miss me and I'll leave."

You sigh, rubbing your face. You want to yell at him, but his presence and words make you weak.

He knows that he has an effect on you. He knows how easily he can manipulate you and bend you to his will.

But you gather yourself. You shake your head and seethe through your teeth, "Go fuck yourself, Rafe. Get out, right now. Or I swear to god, I will call the police."

He chuckles lowly. "And tell them what, baby? That Rafe Cameron came into your house and refused to leave? Please, call the police. It'll just make things easier."

"Get. Out." You point towards the door. "Go back to her, Rafe. The bimbo who's always on your arm."

He groans, his voice low and guttural. "She's not you, okay? She doesn't fucking get me. Only you do."

"You're a piece of shit."

He takes a step closer to you, if that was even possible.

"I'm a piece of shit? Do you hear yourself?" He's towering over you. His hands are gripping your arms.

You push his chest again and step back, only to bump into the wall behind.

He, too, takes a step back, running a hand through his hair. He laughs and looks down at his feet. "Fine. You wanna play this game, huh?"

He starts walking towards you, and suddenly your feet are glued to the floor.

You feel his warmth against your body before his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your bodies are pressed against each other's.

You feel him run a finger down the length of your jaw.

You try to fight back the urge to moan at his touch. You want to push him away, but his touch makes you melt. It's been too long. Too long since he's been this close.

"Fuck you." You say, and your shaky voice doesn't go unnoticed by him. "And let go of me."

He ignores you.

He presses his forehead against yours, and your breath hitches in your throat.

You can't stop thinking about how much you want his lips on yours. How much you want him to not listen to your complaints and just fucking kiss you.

His breath hits your lips as his eyes search your face. "Tell me you don't miss me. Tell me you don't miss this," He whispers, his right-hand snaking up your body until it's resting right below your breast.

"I'll leave right now," he says, "and never come back. We can go our separate ways and live the rest of our lives separately. And then, ten years from now, you'll be at a children’s park and you'll see me and think, 'Wow. Rafe Cameron is hot.'"

"I-"

"Or," he pauses, his hand sliding down to your ass. "You can just stop being in denial and admit that you need me just as much as I need you."

His grip on you is tight, and his blue eyes are boring into yours. His breathing has quickened, and so has yours.

His face is mere centimetres away from yours at this point, and his eyes are digging holes in you. You feel his erection against your thigh, and the knowledge that he's aroused makes your brain go haywire.

"Say you fucking want me. I'm yours, alright? Just fucking say it." He's so close to you that you can taste his breathe.

You're at war with yourself. A part of you is screaming to kick him out, but the other part wants him to stay.

His grip on you tightens.

"I hate you." You murmur.

And then his lips are on yours.

The kiss isn’t soft and loving. It's harsh and needy, but it feels so right.

All protests, all thoughts and all the mixed feelings die down when he shifts his hand to your throat and squeezes it. With his other hand, he pulls up your thigh to his waist.

Your lips move together sloppily, his tongue darting into your mouth.

You feel him lift you up and walk over to your bedroom, his grip on you never loosening.

Your arms wrap around his neck, his tongue moves against yours, and all the feelings make you moan against his lips.

He breaks the kiss and pushes the door open with his foot, the dim light in the room allowing you to see the outline of his face.

He's breathing heavily. His eyes are dark with lust and his pupils are dilated.

You don't know what's gotten into him. Maybe the years apart have driven him crazy. But all that doesn't matter because right now he's kissing you like it's the end of the world, and you're letting him.

Your lips collide together again, and this time, it's different. It's more passionate and slow, and he kisses you in a way no one has ever kissed you before.

He lays you down on the bed and crawls on top of you.

You expect him to take control and dominate, but instead, he rests his head against the crook of your neck, his breathing hot on your skin.

"I'm so fucking sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispers as he kisses the side of your neck.

You're speechless. Your brain is telling you to shove him off, but your heart and body are telling you something else.

The lump in your throat has returned, and your eyes are starting to burn.

But before you can say anything in response, he rushes back to your lips, and you lose yourself in him.

His lips move hungrily against yours. You can taste the saltiness of his tears, and the thought of Rafe Cameron crying makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

His hips are pressed firmly against yours, his erection digging into your inner thigh.

The kiss is passionate, but there's a hint of possessiveness in the way he grips the side of your face.

His hand trails down your body, his fingertips roughly pushing against the fabric of your shirt making you whimper.

"I missed you so much, baby." He whispers.

Then he's sucking your lips, nibbling, and kissing. He's all over you.

Your hands tug at the hem of his shirt, and he lifts himself off of you, straddling you as he helps you pull his shirt off.

He's still the same; toned, sculpted, and ripped. You can't help but stare.

You run your fingers down his chest, and your eyes shut.

He's beautiful, and you've missed him so much.

He starts trailing kisses down your neck, sucking and leaving dark marks.

You moan breathily when he sucks on the sweet spot beneath your ear.

You were supposed to stand your ground, but fuck, you need him. You need him the same way you did when he first made love to you.

"Rafe," your voice comes out breathy, "I want you."

His hand is on your stomach, moving upward. He pulls his head back, and you see the desperation in his eyes.

"Fuck, say it again," he kisses the tip of your nose. "Tell me that you're mine."

"I'm yours." You shakily murmur. "Only yours."

He only groans in response. His lips capture yours again, making a gasp come out of your mouth—which he greedily swallows.

A piteous whimper slips past your lips when you feel your wetness coating your panties and rubbing against Rafe's pants.

But he still doesn't do anything to relieve the ache between your thighs. You buck your hips discreetly to grind against his covered dick, but he simply slaps your thigh, making you yelp.

He positions himself in between your legs, both of your parts still clothed; the fabric against your wet skin making you whimper.

You moan, grasping his bicep when his fingers trace along your underwear teasingly.

"Does he make you this wet?" He asks before pulling your underwear off and running his fingers past your exposed clit.

Your brain is so fucked up that silence is your only answer.

“Answer me or I swear to fucking God I'll leave you like this,” he says, slapping your thigh and making you gasp.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you reply annoyedly, "Just fucking-"

Suddenly, all heat disappears from above you. Your eyes snap open. The sight of Rafe clenching his jaw and pulling himself away from you makes you hurriedly reach out for him.

You stutter, “Wait-wait, wait, Rafe, baby, please.”

You tug at his arm, pulling him back down on top of you.

"I need you. Please. Please just fuck me."

"You're so pathetic." He chuckles, clicking his tongue before his hands are taking his shirt off, followed by your shirt being thrown somewhere in the room.

He diverts his attention to your tits, trailing wet kisses on each of them. You let out a satisfactory sigh as he continues wrapping and unwrapping his lips around your nipples.

He goes further down and presses kisses along your stomach.

Before you can react, he buries his face between your thighs. Your back arches, a hand on his soft hair as the other grips the pillow next to you, “Oh, fuck."

He practically devours you, looking up every two seconds to meet your blown eyes. He pushes your legs up, making them almost touch your shoulders. You gasp, tightening your grip on his hair as he continues to eat you out.

Your hands are everywhere, trying to hold anything that can make the storm in your stomach calmer.

Rafe slowly releases his tight grip on your legs before sliding his fingers into you. Your eyes squeeze shut.

Your hips slightly buck upwards, but Rafe shoves you down with his free hand.

His fingers are thrusting into you at a brutal pace, his tongue doing wonders right along them.

He detaches his lips off your pussy, but his fingers are still in you.

"Does he-does he touch you as good as I do? Does he make you as wet as I do?" Rafe asks as he leans over you. The hand that had shoved you down is now wrapped around your throat as he presses, making you choke. "No, he fucking doesn't. Only I make you feel this good, yeah?"

He doesn't expect you to say something because he knows that he's saying the truth. He’s the only person who can turn you into a mess.

"Oh my god, Rafe, right there." You moan as he curls his fingers deeper into you.

"Answer me, does he fuck you up as good as I do?"

You roll your eyes at the question he's asking for the nth time now, "Yeah, yeah he does." You reply absent-mindedly.

"What the fuck?" He exclaims, immediately pulling his fingers out of you. He pushes his fingers into your mouth, so deep that it makes you gag.

"You know what, I'll fucking treat you like a whore." He says, his fingers still deep in your mouth. "I thought I'd be nice to you after all these years, but you always have to be a bitch, don't you?"

With one hand, he clumsily pulls off his pants and underwear.

You moan as you feel him drag the tip of his cock over your pussy. He teasingly does so for a few more seconds before meeting your eyes and smirking at you.

"I'm going to fucking ruin you." He mumbles. "Show your boyfriend the bruises I give you, alright?"

And when he pushes his dick in, he makes sure to look down at how your walls envelope him perfectly even after all these years.

"Oh, holy fucking shit." You gasp when his hips thrust forward and go deeper into you.

Rafe drops his head on your shoulder as he sets a pace. "I fucking missed this. I missed fucking you- oh shit." He breathes into your shoulder.

Your eyes roll back into your head, your body budding with the pleasure his thrusts give you.

"Right there." You breathe.

"You never learn, do you?" He says. Swiftly, Rafe pulls out of you and flips you over so that you're on your stomach. "You're a whore. But only mine, baby."

Then he harshly thrusts back into you, making a pathetic moan leave your lips. His hands grip your waist as he pounds into you.

He wraps his arms around your stomach and pulls you flush into his sweaty chest, tipping your head up to pull you into a messy kiss. Your teeth and tongues clash uncomfortably, but neither of you give a fuck.

His lips detach from yours, and he buries his forehead into the back of your neck.

"You're squeezing me the fuck out," He moans out.

The new position makes you moan, your hands shifting from being vacant to grabbing your tits as he pushes himself deeper and deeper into you.

The sight of you touching yourself results in Rafe letting out a loud groan. His hand leaves your hair and slides down the front of your body to rub your clit.

The new fervour makes your legs shudder, "Fuck, I'm close." You mumble, leaning your head on his shoulder.

He nods frantically—having waited for this moment for years now.

"Cum for me, yeah. Cum all over me, baby. Need you." Rafe breathes out, thrusting harder into you.

In response, your back arches with a high. A loud moan escaping your lips and white dots blurring your vision as you release all over him.

Rafe fucks you through your orgasm—chasing his own with wild thrusts. “Oh, fuck, fuck."

You can feel his high approaching as he grips you tighter. He thrusts into you harshly, desperate for his release.

He throws his head back with a loud groan and a long string of curses when his hips falter and he's covering your insides with his cum.

The two of you are a gasping mess when you lay down on the bed.

You both stay there for moment, breathing in each other's scent. He traces your body, as if to memorise every inch.

When Rafe pulls away from you, it's like he's pulling your heart out too.

Because you know that this was just another night for him.

When Rafe cleans you up and covers you up with a blanket, he fails to cover the ache of your heart.

Because you know that the bed he'll be returning to won't be yours; but the other woman's.

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chuluoyi · 11 months ago

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✎ sick days

- gojo satoru x reader

who holds the fort when you fall sick? of course, it's your lovesick husband and baby!

genre: fluff, fluff, fluffff. basically, your baby is adorable, gojo is your husband and not only is he lovesick with you, he humors your baby so much it’s making me— sighs

note: based on this post! hi hi chu is back from vacation and here’s another dad!gojo fluff indulgence and we stan domestic men okay🤭

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

It's plain sight that Gojo Satoru is a highly attractive individual, and now that he has a son, it's fair to say that he’s the hottest dilf on the block.

With one hand twirling a famous brand of flu medicine box and the other propping his baby son at his hip, he garnered curious eyes, even in drugstore near his home.

“Hmm, why is it so cheap? Suspicious…”

Satoru let out a light hum, studying the orange and pink boxes, as well as glancing at the other purple box with bold labels claiming its effectiveness in halting cold symptoms, and then looked at his son.

His baby's big, crystal blue eyes blinked in wonder at the vibrant colors, and he reached out with grubby hands towards them. “Bwah!”

Suddenly, he got an idea.

“Hey, kiddo. Which do you think is better for mama?” he asked the baby, gesturing at the all three medicine on the rack with his jaw. “You choose.”

As if on cue, the little ball of fluff that was his son immediately reached out for the purple box, the more expensive out of all three displayed before him. Without missing a beat, he also seized both the orange and pink boxes in quick succession, holding them close to his chest.

Satoru broke into a hearty laugh, a wide grin split his face, as he affectionately tousled the boy's head with pride.

“That's my boy! Splurging is allowed—after all, we're rich!”

When the first signs of cold manifested in you, Satoru was already worried. He had warned you to take more rest, but typical you, you brushed it off as a mere fatigue.

And when this morning, you woke up to sudden coughing fits and hot-and-cold spells, which ended up with kicking him out of your shared bedroom in fear of spreading the virus, like the doting husband he was, Satoru promptly headed to the pharmacy with your baby in tow to get you some help.

"Oh my, sir, your son is so adorable!" the female cashier gushed when he got over to pay, finally voicing what other customers thought in their heads. He could sense the discreet glances from those around him even now.

As the baby clung to his shirt, Satoru tightened his grip on him and responded with a self-assured grin, ensuring those nearby heard his words, "Of course he is! My wife is pretty as heck too, shame she's down with fever today."

"Aww! Such high praise, you must adore your wife!"

"Mm-hmm!"

Ah, so he still has a wife. The other customers went about their day, some disappointed that the dilf was still evidently devoted to his wife. They could only wonder just who could the lucky woman was.

Moving on— after the short trip to the drugstore, Satoru went back home. He promptly checked on you in your master bedroom, inquiring, "Hey, how are—"

But he immediately halted upon seeing you nestled so comfortably under the blankets, sleeping soundly. For a moment, he simply stood, blinking and observing your serene slumber.

Strange that something inside him both softened and lurched at the sight. You were just that precious in his eyes. Stupid as it was, he was quite miserable to go through the day without your nagging and nitpicking. And above all, he never liked seeing you in any kind of discomfort—it made his protective instincts soar.

Hence his thought— there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, even if it means sacrificing heaven itself.

“Myah!” A hard shove on his arm and his baby’s babbling snapped him out of his trance. Satoru shifted his baby to his other hand, let out a questioning hum, and affectionately pinched his mochi-like cheeks.

“Hmm? You can’t be hungry, I—oooh,” a sheepish expression of realization appeared on his face, his blue eyes widened slightly as his baby glared at him. Then, chuckling like the goofball he was, Satoru patted him on his head to appease his grudge, “I haven’t fed you since this morning, eh?”

“Fwah!”

“Pfft! There, there… Me is sorry~ Now let me whip something up for you and mama, yeah?”

Now, he wouldn't claim to be the best chef, but he could certainly cook to save himself. Rolling up his sleeve, he went to the kitchen after leaving and stuffing his baby boy with a pacifier on his high chair.

“Hmmm, baby food for the minion and… congee? Yeah, congee should be good.”

Next task was feeding his already seething baby after he mixed together his baby food. He was a fussy eater—mostly with him, but surprisingly not so much with you (apparently, that's just his way of showing who he favors between his parents, heh). But when he managed to get the food in, with every spoonful, his son’s smile gradually widened, and so did his happiness.

Satoru thought then that he was the cutest thing he had ever created. His son was clearly a mini-him, but his reactions were definitely so you.

“Is it tasty? It is, isn’t it?” he cooed with baby voice, earning a delightful giggle in response from his son. Pushing his luck, he added with a suggestive grin, “Papa is the best, isn’t he?”

“Bwah...” The joyful expression on his baby's face faded instantly, dissolving into an unamused pout, prompting Satoru to righteously click his tongue.

“Why are you so against me?!”

After he was done with his fill, Satoru picked your baby up to the master bedroom to bring you something to eat. Seated on the opposite edge of the bed, he silently adored your sleeping form once again.

Right at that moment, the baby in his arms wriggled, reaching out for you. Acting on a sudden impulse, he put him on the bed, facing you.

“Now, go to mama, would you?” he whispered gently, grinning and giving his bum a light pat. “Go!”

Your son was also Gojo Satoru’s son, therefore he was an adept crawler even at barely seven months old. With remarkable agility, the little soldier steadily moved towards you, his diapers jiggling with each motion. He stopped right in front of your face, clearly recognizing you as his mother.

And your husband swore that even his logic-driven heart melted at the sight of your cute baby suddenly leaned in and clumsily smooched your nose.

Simply just the two most treasured loves of his life.

“Mm?” you let out a soft grunt, feeling the dryness in your throat as you cracked your eyes open, surprised to find yourself face-to-face with your baby. “Oh… why are you here? Don’t get too close…”

“He’ll be fine.” Satoru picked your son up, placing him on his knee and steadying him with one arm. Having moved next to you on the bed, he brushed hair from your forehead. “What about you, hmm? Feeling better?”

Your eyebrows creased into a frown. “Yeah, I think, but more than that, Satoru, I’ve told you, don’t let him—”

“Yes, yes, sweetheart. He won’t get sick, look, he’s as healthy as he can be~” and to make a point, he turned his baby over and lightly smacked his bottom, prompting a whimper from the little one and a gasp from you.

“Don’t spank him!”

“Ehh? Then can I spank you instead?”

“Satoru, you’re a little piece of—!”

Just you and him, as well as the little treasure that was your son. This little family was enough reason to live. To win.

And Gojo Satoru once again thought, that being the strongest didn’t really mean that much anymore because with his world in his hands, nothing else matters.

Epilogue

“You’re so silly, why did you buy so many?” you grumbled at the sight of three different brands of cold medicine your husband displayed in front of you. “One is enough, do you want me to overdose?”

Satoru snickered. “Don’t blame me, blame your kid. He’s the one picking all of them.”

You totally didn’t get what he meant at all, but yeah, your husband was the silliest human ever and that’s that.

“Hey, don’t you think it’s a bit smelly here?” Satoru suddenly asked, wearing a quizzical expression.

You took a sniff of the air, glancing at your baby blinking innocently and sitting calmly on your husband, and a realization struck you. “Uh, Satoru...”

Following your gaze, as if sensing an omen, Satoru hastily scooped up his son, letting out a bewildered gasp as he felt a slight wetness where the baby had been sitting on him.

“Did he just poo on me?!”

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boyfhee · 9 months ago

Text

박성훈 、PRETTY FACE

all the trouble sunghoon gets himself in lands him in your arms.

featuring ⋆ rich boy! sunghoon x fem reader

contents ⋆ kissing, mentions of cuts, injuries and blood, just a whole lot of fluff i miss writing cute stuff, insecurities perhaps ( 1370 )

notes ⋆ rich boy sunghoon....save me from him. also this was not meant to be above a thousand words and was supposed to be funny. and this one's for saint @hoonvrs hi bae

one thing you’ve learnt while dating sunghoon, it’s always an adventure. so unforeseen, like when he showed up at your balcony, again, last night with a few bruises and cuts on his face. you had let him in and he avoids your attempt at cupping his face just as swiftly. and dating sunghoon is exhilarating, with the way you let him stay for the night, again, knowing your parents are home.

“good morning,” you smile and brush your thumb over the cut on the corner of his lips. it’s red, his lips are dry, and yet they’re soft when you lean down for a quick peck.

“morning, sweetheart,” he says quietly. “how creepy of you to watch me sleep,”

“guess i’ll be a creep if it means i get to look at your handsome face,” you hum, fighting back a smile.

“is that a compliment i hear?” and he’s almost turning away to sleep, but your words catch him off, and he smirks drowsily with a soft and sleepy gaze adorning you. “what’s the occasion?”

“i’m serious, hoon. you’re handsome,” you insist with a frown, cupping his face again, thumb brushing over his cheeks as you lean in and whisper ever so tenderly. “so handsome, it’s crazy,”

“well, aren’t you sweet, my love,” and he can’t help but wrap his arms around you, pulling you on top of him. it’s quiet, you lay with your head on his chest. it’s barely six, you look out through the huge glass window panes installed in your room by your request to fit the aesthetic, but now it’s how sunghoon climbs up your room every other night.

it’s not usual for him to get compliments. usually, you’re trying to play it cool, as if his words don’t affect you as much as he thinks they do. on other days, you’re busy rolling your eyes every time he flirts. you make him work for compliments, it’s funny, and he enjoys it. a little bit of challenge in his way too easy lifestyle keeps him going. but today— as you’re quietly listening to his heartbeat while he’s caressing your back— you want to stay like this.

he brushes his fingers through your hair, planting soft kisses on your head every few seconds. it’s rare for you two to be this quiet. with sunghoon, every minute spent on bed leads to something else, most of the time. but this time it’s silent, it’s risky, he’s in your room and as much as he jokes about it, the idea of being caught by your parents isn’t something either of you fancy.

“i think i should get up and leave before your—” it lands upon you to worry about keeping everything a secret, today it’s his job to make sure the secret is safe.

“it stings, doesn’t it?” you cut him off immediately, pinning him down as he tries to get up. he can see the concern in your eyes, worries trickling through your finger tips and seeping through his skin when you lace your fingers over his scratches.

“i told you, they’re not that bad,” he shrugs, too careless, carefree. he doesn’t know why you worry yourself over something so minor. “they don’t even hurt,”

“it hurts me to see you like this,” and his thoughts are put to halt when the words leave your mouth.

it was half past one when sunghoon knocked at the glass doors of your balcony. you were getting ready for bed after movies, and he was avoiding your gaze as you were running your eyes over his state— messy, hurt, and so were you.

‘did you get into another fight with heeseung?’ you had asked and he avoided, again, dodging all your questions and attempts to check on him. you let him in, and he goes straight to your bathroom. his gaze doesn’t meet your eyes, he avoids all the eye contact and conversation. he turns away to take off his shirt covered in dirt. it’s worse this time. ‘come here,’

you grabbed his arm to pull him towards you, but he refused to face you. he’s ashamed, like every time he is when you see him like this. the pretty face you’ve always been so fond of no longer fits the definition. you tried to make him look at you, but he grabbed your hands, kissing your palms and pulled you to bed.

“is that a new way of telling me to not get into fights?” he asks, feigning a yawn, a faint chuckle following by. you’re still on top of him, pinning him down, and if he didn’t know any better, you would’ve ended up under him already.

“is it working?”

“a bit,” he mumbles quietly and pulls you closer by your waist, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck. he keeps planting tender kisses on your cheeks, and then down on your neck, as if telling you to let go of all the concerns that plague your mind. “you worry too much,”

“i know, i will continue to do that,” you pull back again, much to his disappointment. nothing could compare to the feeling of having you in his arms. “if not for your dad and for the sake of your reputation then at least for me, you need to stop,”

sunghoon knows.

if not for anything— it isn’t for anything else. not for his mother’s million dollars fashion brand, not for his sister’s business ventures, nor his father’s political career. it’s for you, every scratch, every nip and every cut, every drop of blood that had trickled down the corner of his lips when heeseung landed a punch on his face. how could he not? sunghoon can stand anything but people talking down on you as if they know you. it makes him fight for you and funnily enough, he’s happy to bleed to death for you.

“you always ruin the mood, bringing that old man up,” he’s deflecting— just as you had expected and you’re not backing down. one leg swinging to the other side, arms by his head. he’s down, caged, a position where he can’t avoid you. it’s about time you two had this conversation.

“i’m serious,” you’re trying your best to keep up the stern face, eyes locked into his.

“i love it when you get all serious, angel,” he grins suggestively, arms around your waist again. he’s slipping them under your top, you slap it away and it only makes him laugh in amusement. “i suppose it is a bit too early for that,”

you don’t say anything, just looking at his pretty face. you stroke softly over the cut on his cheekbone and he flinches ever so slightly. it’s new, it stings, adorned by a bit of dried up blood just like the one on his lips. there’s one near his jaw from a while ago, it’s healing. each and every part an ugly reminder of how much trouble he gets in.

“you’re such a pretty face,” you whisper quietly and lean down to kiss him, trying to be so gentle to not hurt him even more. you take your sweet time, tracing your lips over those wounds, new or old, and then speaking with a voice impossibly loving. “even with these,”

“i love it when you call me that,” he takes your hand, kissing your palms. it’s not everyday that he’s spoiled like this.

and you pull your hand back, speaking with frown as if giving him a warning. “i won’t anymore if you get into another fight,”

“guess we’re making truce with heeseung,” he chuckles quietly, shaking his head, pretending to be annoyed. he finally pulls you down next to him and wraps his arms around you, kissing your forehead. “things i do for my girl,”

you let out a muffled laughter while your face is buried in his chest before looking up at him with love pouring out of your eyes. “for me?”

“for you,” you hand rests on his cheeks as he leans down for a kiss, and his hands wrap over them gently, holding them in place. when you kiss him so deeply yet delicately, like it’s a stellar reunion, he pulls away just for a brief second, whispering against your lips. “everything,”

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junrenjun · 1 month ago

Text

after hours

mark lee x fem!reader x lee donghyuck, frat au

genre: mainly smut tbh

wc: 3.8k

warnings: afab reader, mark and haechan are frat bros, weed (smoking, edibles), unprotected sex (have safe sex plz), threesome, highkey switch!mark and switch!reader i guess, kind of dom!haechan, pretty heavy member x member in this, teensy bit of orgasm denial

The house is just as hot and sticky as you remember it to be. There’s people everywhere and you have to push around to get to the stairs. A pledge sits on the bottom step, eyes glued to his phone. He finally looks up when you approach. “You have to be with a brother to go upstairs, ma’am,” he drawls, boredom clear in his tone.

“Ma’am? What am I? 30?” you ask him. “And I’m here literally every week.”

He responds without looking back up from his phone. “You still have to be with a brother to get upstairs.”

You’re starting to get impatient now. At this rate, the whole frat is aware of you and Mark’s “weekly weed time” as he calls it. Hell, half of them have participated at one point or another. “I am with a brother. I’m here to see Mark Lee, just like I do every Friday.”

The pledge looks up at you again, exasperation clear on his face. “The brother has to be present. Like here with you right now.” You’re starting to miss Sungchan and Shotaro. They would never do this to you.

“Well the brother I’m here to see is probably as high as balls in his room right now…” you say, trying your best to sneak past him.

He puts an arm out and braces it against the wall to stop you. Your movements halt. “He still has to be here,” he informs you, annoyed.

“Oh my god,” you raise your voice a bit. “Where is Taeyong?” you mumble to yourself, knowing the President himself would be able to get you out of this predicament.

As you fish through your hoodie pocket to find your phone, a voice from the top of the stairs calls your name. There stands Lee Donghyuck, leaning casually over the railing, a solo cup in his hand and a smirk on his face. “What are you doing down there baby?” You shiver at the nickname.

You shoot a pointed look toward the man on the last stair, who is now looking up toward the upperclassman. “I’m waiting for one of you fuckers to come find me, since your own pledge won’t let me upstairs.”

Donghyuck lets out a “tsk” sound, shaking his head at the younger boy. “C’mon man. She’s here every week, you should recognize her by now. And let her up, she’s with me.”

Surprisingly, the pledge doesn’t let you go right away. “She said she was here for Mark,” he informs his brother.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, leisurely strolling down the stairs. Once he reaches the bottom, he pushes the pledge’s arm out of the way with his foot. “Well she’s here for me too. Right baby?” You nod. “Go tell Sungchan to take over stair duty tonight for you, since you can’t seem to do your job right.” The boy nods hurriedly and scurries off.

He smirks down at you, hand reaching to wrap around your waist. Leading you up the stairs, his fingers brush lightly against the bare skin that shows when your hoodie pulls up a bit. It sends electric shocks down your spine. “Tell Johnny that the next pledge task should be to brush up on the frequent flyers list,” you mumble to him.

He simply laughs in response. “I can do that.” Once you reach the top, his hand moves from your waist to the small of your back, leading you through the crowded hallway. Finally you reach a door that you have become all too familiar with lately. A green street sign reading “Lee Lane” stares back at you. You still have yet to hear the story of how they obtained it. They refuse to tell you.

Donghyuck reaches out and opens the door for you, slightly bowing. “My lady,” he says in an awful recreation of a posh accent. You roll your eyes and step through the entryway. You’re immediately greeted by 5 familiar faces and a cloudy haze of smoke.

Jeno and Jaemin are slouched over each other on the couch, a little too handsy for what should be considered just friends. Nothing atypical there. Chenle and Jisung are sitting at Donghyuck’s desk, the taller man attempting to play some sort of game while the other eggs him on. Mark is lounging on his bed, blunt in one hand, phone in the other. “Where’s Renjun?” you pout once you notice the blonde man’s absence.

You feel a familiar hand wrap around your waist once again. “He’s got an essay due at 11:59,” Chenle responds, not looking up from where his eyes are glued to the monitor.

“Damn,” you reply. “Really wanted one of his edibles tonight.” With that, Mark leans down, starting to rummage around in the drawer of his nightstand, passing the blunt to Jeno in the meantime. Once he finds what he’s looking for, he raises his head, a dopey smile on his face. He waves a little plastic bag around excitedly.

All of a sudden, the smile drops from his face. His eyes are zeroed in on the hand circling your waist. “Hey!” he whines, grabbing Hyuck’s attention. “I thought I said no touching. She’s my weed partner not yours!” Mark and Donghyuck usually have no problem sharing you, so you suppose this little comment is meant to keep up appearances in front of their friends.

The hand reluctantly leaves your side and Donghyuck crosses the room to jump up onto his own bed. “She’s half the frat’s weed partner at this point, man!” He dramatically falls to his back, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh.

“True that!” Jaemin raises his head to shout from his spot on the couch. He looks…blasted to say the least. It’s clear his head is spinning from the sudden movement. After a moment, he just says, “woah” and tucks his head back into Jeno’s chest, who hums in delight.

Mark captures your attention once again, patting the spot on the bed next to him. You jump up and join him. He offers the plastic bag to you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Got this just for you.”

You reach for the bag excitedly, only for him to pull away from you cruelly at the last second. “Mark,” you pout at him, a frown on your face.

He simply laughs, leaning down to put his lips on the shell of your ear. “Gimme a kiss first, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes at his antics. A year ago, you would’ve choked on your own saliva hearing those words. Now, they’re like second nature to you. Leaning over the side of the bed, you pluck the blunt out of Jeno’s hand. The man in question hands it over easily, moving to pick Jaemin up and take him back to their own room.

Turning back toward Mark, you take a hit, leaning close with your hands on his shoulders, and then exhale. He inhales the smoke, his own lips inches from yours. When he finishes the shotgun, he presses a small kiss to the side of your mouth. “Thanks baby,” he whispers.

“Hey!” Hyuck calls out. When you turn, his eyes are locked on you and Mark. “Calling her baby is my thing!”

A groan is heard from the opposite end of the room. “Can’t you three get a room?” Chenle asks exasperatedly.

“We’re in our room,” Mark says in the most deadpan way he can muster. It’s not all that serious, the high leaving hints of that dopey smile on his face. It’s enough to work on Chenle though, because seconds later he’s turning the PC off and dragging Jisung out of the room by the collar of his shirt.

As the door is shut once again, Donghyuck hops down from his bed, moving to lock it. “Finally some peace and quiet,” he mutters once he completes his task. You giggle a little at the statement. You’re not quite sure it truly qualifies as peace and quiet if you can still hear the loud music and voices from downstairs.

The man moves once again, but this time approaches Mark’s bed, tossing himself dramatically on the end and taking the blunt out of your hand. While he occupies himself with getting even higher, you turn your attention to the man next to you. “Can I get that edible now, Markie?”

He must have been lost in thought, because your words seem to startle him. Finally, recognition sparks in his eyes once he realizes what you mean. “Oh, yeah,” he mutters, handing the plastic bag to you.

You take it from him and unzip it, popping the gummy into your mouth. It’s strawberry flavored, one of your known favorites. You practically moan at the taste. “God, Renjun deserves some fucking head for this,” you say.

Donghyuck snorts from his place at the end of the bed, eyes dazed but looking right at you. “Nah,” he shakes his head. “Mark deserves the head if anything. He practically got on his knees to beg Renjun to save one for you.”

You look over at Mark to gauge his reaction. He has his head leaning back against the wall, eyes closed with his face tilted slightly toward the ceiling. His hand has drifted down to your thigh, fingertips running lightly over the bare skin where your shorts end. There’s no reaction evident on his face. It’s likely that he’s completely zoned out, unaware of the conversation taking place before him.

“That can be negotiated,” you finally say, swinging one of your legs around so that you end up straddling his lap. The sudden movement pulls him from his daydream, his head dropping to look you in the eyes. You’re hovering slightly above him, not yet giving him the pleasure of your weight on top of him.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Whatcha doing pretty girl?” His hands move to rest lightly on top of your hips.

You lower yourself a little bit more, your skin brushing against his sweatpants. “Hyuck said you deserve a reward for bringing me an edible,” you concede. “And I need something to entertain me until it kicks in.”

Mark simply hums in response, his eyes hazy but still somewhat focused on you. You hear shuffling at the end of the bed as Donghyuck moves to put out the blunt. You’re not surprised. Ever since you and Mark invited him to join your little Friday night shenanigans, he’s been keen to be in on the action. Eager to ramp the energy up, you lean in and press a long kiss to Mark’s lips.

It’s sloppy, especially with the way he’s clearly feeling the effects of his smoke session. You pull back a bit, admiring the way your spit decorates his lips. His eyes look lazily up into yours and you smirk when they flutter close as you grind your hips down. “Fuck,” is all he manages to say as he throws his head back.

You let yourself get lost in the movement, your own eyes finally closing. However, you’re startled when a pair of hands settle on your waist. Halting your movements, you turn to peek over your shoulder. Donghyuck has settled on his knees in between Mark’s spread legs, his head tipped dangerously close to your neck. The grip on your hips tightens and he whispers, breath tickling the back of your neck. “Don’t stop because of me, pretty.”

When you turn back around, Mark is watching you both, his eyes heavy with desire. His hands grip your thighs relentlessly as the bulge in his pants grows larger by the second. Remembering Hyuck’s words, you grind down on him once again. “Atta girl,” you hear from behind you, and it sends a rush of heat right down to your core.

Donghyuck controls the pace with the hands on your hips, purposefully teasing both you and Mark. Your ass brushes back against Hyuck’s own erection every few strokes. Meanwhile, the man under you starts letting out breathy moans. The longer it goes on, the more you start to feel the effects of your edible. Your senses heighten and everything feels ten times more pleasurable than if you were sober.

The hands on your waist start to move up, making quick work of removing your shirt. Donghyuck’s mouth meets the back of your neck as he removes your bra. Mark instantly groans as your chest is freed from the material. He doesn’t waste a second, sitting up as much as he can and wrapping his lips around one of your nipples.

Between him and Hyuck, who is now leaving marks on the junction of your neck, you are not going to last very long. You don’t have to worry though, because Mark suddenly plants a hand on your stomach, pushing himself away from you. You are thrown backwards, falling into Donghyuck’s chest.

Confused, you look down at the man who is now leaning against the headboard, flushed and panting. “What’s wrong Mark?” you ask, your own voice a little breathless.

“I…” the man stutters. “I was gonna cum,” he finally admits.

“Aww,” Hyuck teases. “Was Markie gonna cum just from a little humping and sucking on some titties?” Mark’s face reddens immensely and he visibly swallows, but doesn’t respond. “I think he was…” Donghyuck teases again. “How about that pretty girl? You were gonna make him cum in his pants.”

You understand Mark’s embarrassment. Your own orgasm was not that far away. To be honest, you don’t even know how Donghyuck is coherent enough to be doing all this dirty talk. It seems that both you and Mark are a little too gone for your own good. In more ways than one.

“So selfish,” Hyuck continues, sliding a hand past the waistband of your shorts. His fingers ghost lightly over the seat of your panties, the wetness spreading uncomfortably. “Leaving our girl all wet and unsatisfied because you can’t restrain yourself.”

You’ve never seen Mark like this. The flush on his cheeks has spread down his neck and out to his ears. Pupils are blown wide, his chest heaving like he’s catching his breath. You can see his cock jump in pants at Donghyuck’s words. He even whines a little bit. Usually he’s more dominant than this, taking the lead but relinquishing control to Hyuck every once in a while. Tonight, it’s clear that’s not going to happen. You’re intrigued.

The man behind you taps your clit a few times, drawing you from your thoughts. You breathe out hard. “You want this?” he questions teasingly. He moves his hand a circle, the friction so delicious you have to let out a moan in response. You hear him chuckle into your ear. “Then get naked. Mark too.”

Mark’s eyes snap forward at the mention of his name. Quickly, he makes work of your shorts, pulling them and your panties down in one swipe. You kick them off onto the floor somewhere. Then, you lean down and yank his shirt over his head. The action tussles his hair, which now falls into his face messily. You don’t take the time to admire it though as you help Mark shimmy his sweatpants and boxers down. It’s awkward and takes a bit of time, but finally, his cock springs free. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Good girl,” you hear from behind you before you can move to touch it. Mark’s hips buck up into the air and he whines. “Oh did I forget someone?” Donghyuck teases. Mark nods relentlessly. “Good boy Markie,” he whispers. Yet again, his cock jumps.

You turn your head over your shoulder, looking for your next instruction. Hyuck clearly wants to be dominant tonight, so you’ll indulge him for Mark’s sake. He must have removed his shirt while you were busy stripping, because you’re met with the sight of his bare chest. You follow his happy trail down to where he has his cock hanging loosely out of his pants. He quirks an eye at your ogling. “You getting eager, pretty?” he asks. You nod.

“Okay,” he tells you, head raising to look at Mark. “Ride him,” he says, leaning back on his heels lazily. You follow his instructions wordlessly, straddling the boy in front of you once again. You line yourself up with him, preparing for the stretch. A finger running up your spine halts your motions and you shudder. “Uh uh. Face me,” he demands. You hear Mark choke up a bit at the thought.

Hesitantly, you turn around, resuming your position. Your hands are planted on the bed next to the inside of Mark’s knees, Dongyuck sitting right in front of you. You go to sink down once again, but right before you do, Hyuck grabs your chin harshly and forces you to make eye contact. “Look at me while you fuck him.”

You gulp nervously, but continue to look into his eyes. Finally, you start to sit on Mark’s cock. The second his tip enters you, he’s moaning loudly. “Holy shit,” he breathes out. His hands grip your hips harshly, like he’s trying to ground himself. Meanwhile, you’re trying so hard to maintain eye contact with Donghyuck. The feeling of being stretched out makes you want to let your eyes roll to the back of your head. He looks back at you in amusement, like he’s getting off on both you and Mark’s struggle.

“Keep going baby,” Hyuck tells you, leaving no room for argument. You resume your motions once more and Mark is no longer keeping his sounds at bay. The room fills with a cacophony of groans. As you continue your staring contest, you see Donghyuck’s hand move out of the corner of your eye. From what you can tell, he’s started to jerk himself off at the sight of you riding Mark. It takes everything in you to not look down.

You raise yourself up and down continuously, the pace slow, but not torturous. Mark is clearly loving it, from the way you can hear his breathing pick up. “So good,” he slurs, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Yeah?” he teases, finally breaking eye contact with you to look back at Mark. “Tell our pretty girl how good she’s making you feel.”

“So good, Y/N. Making me feel so good baby,” he says, voice cracking at the end of the sentence. You’re too preoccupied to really take his words to heart. You’ve taken the opportunity to let your gaze drift down to Donghyuck’s cock and the way he strokes it casually. There’s an obscene amount of pre-cum beading at the head, dripping down onto Mark’s sheets. You moan at the sight.

You don’t realize that Hyuck has turned his attention back to you. Suddenly, his fingers are back on your chin, slowly tilting it up. “What did I say about eye contact?” You look up at him through your eyelashes. “Good girl,” he whispers, and you pussy throbs at the praise. Mark must feel it, because he lets out an especially loud groan.

After a moment, Donghyuck shifts forward a bit, bringing himself closer to you. “Go faster,” he instructs, while his free hand snakes down to rub circles on your clit. You jolt at the feeling, but try your hardest to continue looking him in the eyes. “So sensitive,” he coos while you finally pick up your pace. Between Mark’s cock hitting your sweet spot and Hyuck’s hand brushing roughly against your clit, you feel the pit in your stomach rising.

You’re not sure if your moans pick up or if Donghyuck just has a sixth sense for you approaching orgasm, but either way, he calls you out. “Gonna cum?” he asks, a sick smile spreading across his face. You nod eagerly. “What about you Markie?” A mumbled yes is heard from behind.

“Mmm,” Hyuck hums. “Better tell her to get to work then, because neither of you are cumming until I’ve cum.” Your eyes flick down to his cock, and this time he doesn’t scold you for breaking eye contact. You reach out and wrap your hand around him. He shudders a little and sighs. Slowly, you begin pumping him, trying your best to find all the spots that make him tick. You flick your wrist aggressively, your thumb coming up to brush at his tip every few strokes. It’s got him going for sure, but not enough to send him over the edge.

At this point, you’re getting desperate. Mark clearly is too, because he’s egging you on pleadingly, like he’s dying to cum. “C’mon pretty, please get him off. Please.”

Finally, you run your thumb down the vein on the underside of his cock and his hips jerk. Then suddenly, he’s cumming, white spraying over your stomach, onto Mark's legs, and the sheets. You let him come down a bit, his chest heaving and his head thrown back carelessly. Once his eyes flutter open, you do your best to put a pleading look on your face. “Hyuck, please let us cum.”

He nods wordlessly and you take it as a sign to pick up the pace once more. Mark gasps from behind you and you gasp in response as Donghyuck flicks your clit over and over. Moments later, you’re finally hitting the edge. “I’m cumming,” you announce breathlessly, leaning forward to let your head rest again Hyuck’s chest.

The pulsations from your orgasm carry Mark to completion too, his cock twitching within your walls and painting them white. He lets out a guttural groan and you moan at the feeling of his cum inside you. As you come down, Hyuck has one hand on the back of your head, rubbing soothing circles into your hair. His other hand does the same thing on Mark’s lower thigh.

He lets you both recover for a minute before speaking. “I may be high as fuck still, but we might want to sleep in my bed tonight,” he says, looking down to the spot on the sheets where some of Mark’s cum has dripped down to mix with his own.

“Yeah,” Mark says groggily from behind you. “This is gross.” You tuck your head further into Donghyuck’s chest in embarrassment.

Mark laughs at your actions. “Why so shy all of a sudden, pretty?” he mocks.

“You have no room to talk Markie,” you tease back. Donghyuck’s chest rumbles as he laughs at your banter.

“Okay,” Hyuck finally concedes, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you off Mark. You whine as you become empty, spend dripping out of you. “Let’s get cleaned up. Then we can cuddle,” he declares, carrying you to the attached bathroom. Mark’s footsteps follow behind you. You sigh in contentment, ready to relax with you two favorite boys.

#lu writes #frat au #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagine #haechan x reader #haechan imagine #lee donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck imagine #markhyuck x reader #mark lee smut #haechan smut #lee donghyuck smut #nct x reader

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samubytheocean · 6 months ago

Text

your little habits that flusters the Haikyuu boys

you think nothing of it- and he knows it. So why is he about to pass out?

teeth rotting fluff

might make it a series lmk

grabbing their sleeve

he walks you home. no questions asked. anywhere, anytime, no matter what weather. he mutters out “cuz i’m bored” or some other lame excuse and rolls his eyes whenever you tease him about him being your butler or smth

he’ll never admit, that those walks are the highlights of his days. listening to you blabbering any and every thought that comes up, occasionally grabbing your shoulders to stop you from tripping over or gathering up your hair that has fallen down to your face, yeah he loves all of it.

he’ll never admit, that you just look too pretty, yapping away your worries with your hands flying all over the place. so he only adds in quiet “oh yeah?”s and “no way”s to fuel your rants. he’s listening alright. he’ll ask you to follow up on the tea few days later.

so when you suddenly halt, eyes wide with a sweet, sweet gasp falling from your lips, he visibly flinches. is something there? are you in danger? does he have to carry you bridal and run home? he looks down, confused at your unusual quiet quivering lips.

he flinches when you tug his jersey down, towards the bush at the side of the road. yeah. no danger. just some neighborhood kittens lazing about in the sunset warmth.

your hands stay on the fabric, hands so small but the grip tight as you melt at the adorable sight. he stands up a little, gulping as he feels your touch warm against the cool cloth. the weight of your arm rests against his, and his fingertips tingle as they fall against your soft arms.

he tenses slightly, feeling the blush rise from his neck. was it the sunset? why was it suddenly so hot? you had the every option to hold him. his arm, his shoulders, hands, but the hem of his sleeve? why did your hands suddenly look so cute, gripping tightly as you gleamed innocently?

he looks away as he looks for his phone in the other side of the jacket, grumbling quietly about how he should take a photo of the sight. hopefully you can’t see how flustered this thoughtless touch has made him.

you saw. how could you miss the adorable blush all over his ears?

TSUKI, KENMA, SUNA (a little more enthusiastic about the tea bet) and SAKUSA

sticking & biting your tongue out

he hates it. more specifically, he hates the effect it has on him. a bit of him still doesn’t believe that it’s a absentminded habitual thing. seriously i bet he has asked you, politely and very shyly if you did it on purpose. once, and the confused face you gave him made him so red i swear. he started muttering nonsensical words until you nervously laughed. He just quietly rubbed the back of his neck (which was sweating so, so much)

i see a very clear picture. you guys are in the same class, and you’re so deep into the paper that you are writing, typing away something that has to be of equal relevance to the constitution or smth.

he can’t help but steal some glances at you. he has always admired how devoted you were to your assignments. both your passion and quality of the work motivated him to be a better person. not to mention how hopelessly pretty you looked, eyebrows scrunched up as your glossy lips mutter something. maybe you were choosing between your wording? maybe this was the chance to go over and very nonchalantly offer a fresh set of eyes?

that moment he shifts in his seat, his breathing stops. you open your mouth again, probably to mutter something out, but this time the tip of your glistening, pink tongue flicks out. he stops him his seat, awkwardly positioned, as his head furiously moves back to his laptop, heartbeat raging against his suddenly sweaty fingertips.

what the actual fuck? that must have been a mistake right? you must have just been trying to wet your lips or something. sure there’s nothing more of it.. but he can’t get the sight of the moment out of his head, you relaxing your pretty body for a second as you let out a little sigh, and that pink, glistening tongue sticking out from your plush lips. he feels a pang of guilt, so he quietly takes a shakey breath. there’s no more to it. cut it out. just go and talk to her!

yeah that didn’t go as planned, because when he looked back, the lightheadedness made him grip the edge of the table to stop himself from letting out a surprised sigh. the edge your tongue was caught between your teeth, peeking just out from your lips. your eyes squinting at the screen, just so focused on the work. he sank back to his chair, his eyes racing to look anywhere else.

there’s nothing more to it. he knows. you’re his best friend. he swears. but as he hears you mumble about how you can’t focus, he can’t help but think

how the pink fat would feel against his, and how desperate he is to help you relieve some stress

AKAASHI, KUROO (nerdy looser kuroo is the best kuroo), GOSHIKI, YAMAGUCHI, TANAKA (friends to lovers w him omg), AONE

this was so fun to write and i have so many more ideas about it? plz let me know if yall want more cuz i am more than willing to deliver 🫤🙌

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angelfrombeneth · 6 months ago

Text

THE NOT SO SECRET, SECRET - P . PARKER

Mature Content Ahead

Peter Parker (Tom) x Stark!Reader

Summary: You and Peter are sneaking around but how secret is your secret?

Warnings: SMUT

You and Peter have been hooking up for a while. Since your dad brought him to the compound you've been around eachother a lot. Your dad still doesn't know about your late night rendezvous with Peter, and you'd like to keep it that way.

You are Tony's eldest daughter. You aren't an avenger and he wanted you to steer clear of that life but you refused to live with Pepper and Morgan because you wanted atleast a bit of action. You're like any teenage girl going to school, having boy problems. You decided to join the cheer squad for Midtown High, considering you train daily with Nat you might aswell put it to good use.

You were one of Tony's prized possessions he held you really close. Daddy's girl if you will. You were extremely smart and he used your mind to his gain with Avenger tasks which you were more than happy to help with. It was a perfect arrangement. It got even more perfect when Peter arrived at the compound 2 years ago. Both of you being the same age, go to the same school, yet you'd never seen him before. The pair of you instantly connected becoming friends at the compound and at school, but then it became more.

You hopped out of the shower, pulling on a cropped tank top over your bare chest with some shorts. You pulled your hair from the shower cap, running your fingers through it as you smiled.

"The Avengers are back Miss Y/N" FRIDAY filled the room.

"Thanks FRIDAY" You smiled, before grabbing a clip and clipping your hair back in a loose ponytail before skipping down the stairs.

"God I'm exhausted" Thor groaned, throwing himself on the couch.

You reached the bottom of the stairs, turning the corner and leaning against the door frame staring at them all. "Long day?" You chirped.

You watched as Peter's head raised and his eyes shot daggers at you. He scanned your body, continously. You were satisfied with this.

"Y/N, Have you done your homework" Tony emerged from his side office just off the livingroom as he stood, fixing his shirt cuffs.

"Yes, Dad" you groaned.

"Good, that's my little girl" He smiled at you before turning to everyone in the room. "All of you come with me" He stated before walking towards the conference room before halting. "Not you Parker" As he looked at Peter.

The rest of the Avengers piled into the conference room before the door shut.

"Aww, Poor Parker being left out" You cooed, walking over and standing above him as he settled into the couch.

Peter looked up at you, sighing as he reached to touch your thighs, holding the flesh just below your ass. "I can have much more fun out here with you" He smiled.

"I'd love that but, I'm tired" You snickered. You leaned over, giving him a perfect view down your shirt as you pecked his lips softly. "Tah tah!" Before turning around and running off upstairs.

That night, Peter had plenty of food for thought, the way your ass spilled from those tight ass shorts you wore or the way your nipples stayed harder under your tank top. He couldn't help but think about you.

THE NEXT MORNING

"Morning" You smiled, as you walked into the dining room, leaning over Steve as you grabbed a waffle, taking a bite. You stood in your Midtown High cheer uniform, decked in Blue, White and Yellow. Your hair up in a high ponytail as your sleek silver rectangle reading glasses rested upon your nose.

"Morning Y/N, You got cheer today?" Steve smiled as he held your waist as you leaned against him.

"Yep!" You popped the 'P' as you smiled at him, "You coming to class Peter" You smiled up at him.

His eyes were already trained on you, burning through your clothes as if he was trying to see you without them.

"Yes- Of course" He stumbled over his words.

"God Parker, that reminds me. You whine like a bitch" Bucky scoffed.

"What-" He looked to Bucky confused.

"I've never know someone to moan like a bitch like you do" Bucky laughed, earning a snicker from Thor and Sam.

"Aww Bucky leave him alone" Nat scolded him.

"Yeah! And besides, what's wrong with that Buck? I love a whiney man" You smirked, watching as Peter choked on his water. Everyone laughed as Peter grew redder in the face "Anyway, catch up Parker. Im not waiting for you!" You cheered before walking out.

Peter instantly scrambled behind you, grabbing his bag and hoodie before darting out the door after you.

"Ten bucks, they'll hook up" Nat spoke.

"20, they already are hooking up" Buck, leaned back in his chair smirking.

"You think? He follows her like a lost puppy" Sam started.

"Even more so, I'm seeing it" Thor thought.

"We'll see" Nat raises her mug smiling to Bucky.

"Little Stark definitely has him on a leash" Sam laughs.

THAT EVENING

You sighed, walking back into the compound, dropping you bag on the floor by the door to the kitchen as you walked over to the fridge.

"Rough day?" You heard, as you bent down to grab a waterbottle from the bottom draw of the fridge. You turned around to see Peter leaning against the door frame in loose joggers and a compression shirt.

You hummed as you twisted the cap off the waterbottle, taking a sip as Peter made his way over to you.

"Missed you today, you were so busy with cheer I didn't see you" He huffed, placing a hand on your waist, his other hand moving the hair from your ear as he peppered kisses down your neck.

You smiled, placing the water bottle down on the counter as you turned to look at Peter, your hand instantly lost within his locks. You sighed, your hand dropping to the back of his neck as you pulled him towards you, your lips landing upon his.

This kiss was slow and soft, your lips moving against one another's as his hands slid down to your ass, kneading at it as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

You hummed, pulling him closer, both your arms wrapping around his neck as your tongue toyed with his, pulling him as close as you could as the pair of you pratically exchanged DNA.

Peter pulled away, panting softly as he smirked as you, the pair of your lips, slightly red and swollen. "Upstairs?" He quirked his eyebrow as you smirked nodding before taking his hand and leading him up to his room.

"We can't do it in my room, someone will tell my dad" You whispered walking down the hall past a few avengers bedrooms.

You made it to Peter's room. He grabbed your waist yet again crashing his lips onto yours as you sighed. His hands tightly on your hip as the kiss deepened. His lips, softly and flush against yours as his tongue subtly slipped in and out.

You leaned back against his door, feeling for the handle as you pushed it open, the pair of you stumbling in the room before Peter slammed it shut with his foot.

Breaking away as you kicked off your shoes and climbed onto his bed, he stood striking down at you.

"FRIDAY, Lock the door. No one can come in" He smirked.

"Door is locked Mr Parker" FRIDAY chimed back.

"All to myself" He smirked, peeling his shirt off and dropping his joggers as he dove ontop of you, kissing you again as his hands found themselves all over your body.

You giggle, your lips against his as you kiss him back before he pulls away, his lips against your neck, sucking at the skin as you sighed, your hands running over his bare back.

He pulled away for a moment, pulling your cheer dress over your head and throwing it across the room, leaving you in just your underwear.

"Didn't know you were that needy Parker" you laughed, his hands instantly on your bra as he yanked it down, his hands kneading at your breasts.

"I'm going to make you feel so good" He smirked, his hands reaching you unclasp your bra before tossing it aside as his mouth latched onto one of your breasts.

You gasped, biting your lip as his hands held your waist as you manurved to straddle him as he leaned against the headboard.

You sat up, yanking his boxers down to his knees as his cock sprung out and hit his stomach as you smirked. You grabbed a condom from his drawer, ripping it open abs sliding it down his length as you smirked. His eyes trained on you as his mouth was still full of your breast.

"Gunna ride you" You hummed, your hand sliding up his length as you sighed, pulling your panties aside as you pumped him a few times before slowly settling yourself down on his cock. Gasping for a moment as he penetrated through.

"So fucking hot" Peter mumbled, his hands on your boobs, squeezing them as he peered at you.

Your hips began to rock back and forth, rolling down against him as you hummed, the feeling of him curving up into you, drove you insane.

You hummed, biting your lower lip holding a pout as you tried to control yourself against the pleasure. Peter's mouth suctioned onto your breast, as his hand kneaded the other as you continued to rock your hips back and forth.

"You are such a boob guy" You let out a soft chuckle, your hand caressing through his hair as you sighed, swivelling your hips further against Peter.

A soft pop sounded the room as his mouth withdrew from your skin. "Mhm- How can I not be" He pecked your lips softly, as he shimmied back, leaning back against the headboard, spreading your legs with his as he began to thrust up into you.

"Ah!-" You yelped out, the thrusts throwing your body forward against his, your hands slithered up to grab the headboard as you attempted to steady your breaths between thrusts. "Nghh- there.. please-" You pleaded as hus hands gripped your hips tighter as he thrusted harder into you.

"Good girl-" He hummed, pushing up with his calfs, the position changed as you fell back against the foot of the bed, your back against the sheets as Peter got ontop of you, your legs clamped around his waist as his lips Instantly attached to your neck, sucking the skin harshly as his hips buckled into yours.

"Oh my god!-" You gasped, clawing at his back as you yanked his hair his eyes connecting with yours as you pulled him into a deep kiss. The pair of your lips locked messily, your tongues darting against one another as his pace became consistent.

You'd break away and take breaths as you yelped each time Peter pulled out and thrusted in once again- the feeling was amazing.

Your hand slid up to his neck, as you applied slight pressure as his eyes rolled back slightly and his pace sped up.

"Nghh- You like that- you like when I do this Pete?" You gasped, your hand toying with the grip on his neck as he pistoned faster into you- your voice cracking with moans as he continued.

A soft whine left his lips as he continued to thrust, a smile upon your lips at his sounds.

"M-mhm close" He groaned.

You placed a hand on his chest, signalling him to slow down as you slowly climbed out from under him as you smiled, getting onto all fours.

"I want you to cum in me Pete.." You smile back at him.

Peter quickly kneeled, gripping your ass as he slapped it, yanking the condom off his cock tying it n dropping it into his bedside bin- before rubbing his tip against your slit as you hummed.

"Is it safe to" His touch was soft against you.

"Shut up, I don't care" You pouted looking back at him.

With that he bottomed out, grasping your hips harsh as his bare cock thrusted into you- A whine behind you as he could feel every. single. inch.

"You've been such a good boy, I'd treat you, now fill me up" You leaned back against his chest, your hand on his cheek as you pecked his lips.

His hand pushed you back down into all fours as he thrusted into you.

Your back arches as you hummed, his pelvis thrusting into you as your eyes closed, gripping the sheets as you took it all in.

"Doing so good f'me" Peter mumbled from behind you, kissing your shoulder as he leaned over you, hand caged around your waist as he continued to thrust into you like a rabbit in heat.

You nodded as you sighed, your head hanging forward as he continued to thrust. Your body growing slightly tired as you whined, letting put a soft whine with each thrust.

"Faster.." You sighed, turning back and looking at Peter.

A wide smirk, spread across his face as he lifted you up to lean back against his chest, your lip between your teeth as you reached back, wrapping your arms round the back of his head.

"Such a good girl for me... If only everyone know how much of a good girl you were" He kissed your cheek, his hands snaking around your found as he gripped your tits. Peter was definitely a tit guy, every chance he could, he'd be holding them.

His lips on your neck, as he began to nip at the skin as his pace began to pick up. You croaked out a squeak as your body recoiled against the thrusts at first, soft hums leaving your lips as he'd thrust in and out of you.

You stayed like that for a while, both in such an intimate position but that was till Peter couldn't take it anymore. His hand harshly pushing you back down onto all fours as he grabbed your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he pummelled into you.

"FUCK- mhmphh!-" You screamed, throwing your face forward into his pillow, muffling any noises that came from you as he thrusted. Your ass slapping against his skin as he sped up. Soft groans leaving his lips as he was chasing his high. You were already so close, you were just waiting for him- but you don't think you could last much longer.

"Yes- Fuck.. Yes! I'm cumming-" Peter whined, his hand thrown over his face as his thrusts became sloppy as he bottomed out, thrusting harshly once more before pouring his load into you.

You also, releasing at the same time, letting out a loud screech at you fisted the sheets as you grit your teeth.

The pair of you panting heavily as Peter slowly pulled out, groaning as he collected any escaping and thrusted it back into you a few times.

"Mhpmh-" You whined slightly as he did so.

"Sorry" He laughed, pulling away as he layed next to you, scooping you up and pulling you into his side.

You smiled, pecking his lips softly before laying your head on his chest.

"That fucking uniform does something to me, I was thinking about you all day" He laughed, as you rolled your eyes chuckling.

The pair of you stayed there for a few more minutes before Peter carried you into the shower, where you two yet again couldn't keep your hands off one another.

THE NEXT MORNING

"I'll take that 20 bucks now Nat" Bucky walks into the seating area with a coffee in his hand.

"What?" Nat looked up at him, confused.

"I was up all night because of those kids- I told you they were hooking up" Bucky rubbed his head, groaning.

"I knew it" Sam smirked.

Nat groaned before leaning over and giving Bucky 20 dollars, of which he was very happy about.

"Morning!" You smiled, definitely a pep in your step as you walked into the lounge area wearing just a large tshirt.

They all turned to look at you, shocked at the sudden entrance, but even more shocked when they noticed the marks all over your neck to your legs. Bite marks, hickies and mysterious bruises.

"What?- Is there something on my face?" You reached to rub your face.

"You look like an animal has attacked you-" Sam chuckled.

You rolled your eyes at him.

Peter came behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your cheek softly.

"Look, I know you guys know and my dad isn't here right now, so I'd just appreciate if you all didn't tell him" You smiled, your hand reaching your caress Peter's hair.

"Didn't tell me what?"

You all froze. Especially Peter.

#peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #tom holland #spiderman fanfiction #angelfrombenethfics

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slayfics · 9 months ago

Text

Katsuki lends you a shirt.

Warnings: aged up | NSFW themes

1,000 words~

"You keeping up with me brat?" Katsuki asked, turning the page of his textbook.

You both were studying for the next coming exam in his dorm. Like always- Katsuki had almost all the material memorized, and you were struggling to grasp everything.

"Hold on- let me re-read that last question," You complained, reaching for your mug full of tea while scanning the page again. Multitasking resulted in the mug slipping from your fingers and the warm tea splashing out. Luckily the contents only dampened your uniform and not his bed. You'd never hear the end of it if it did.

"Damn it-" you exclaimed.

"Do you have to be so damn clumsy?" Katsuki ridiculed.

You rolled your eyes at his remarks. "At least none spilled on your bed," you spoke and dabbed at your soaked shirt with a napkin from your bag. Your dabs did little to soak up the large spill of tea. "Whatever it's fine- can you just explain this last question to me," You asked, throwing the napkin back in your bag and admitting defeat with your wet shirt.

"You're really helpless, hu?" he mocked and looked up from his book but immediately became halted by the sight of you. Katsuki's eyes snapped quickly back to his book, and he cleared his throat.

"Yeah yeah- make fun of me all you want can you just explain it already?!" You pressed.

"I'm fucking trying-" He grunted peering up at you again before looking back at his book. The spill from the tea had made your once-white uniformed shirt completely see-through. The sight was proving to be a distraction for him.

Missing the blush that tinted his cheeks and reddened his nose you taunted him, "Or do you actually not understand it either, hm?" You teased.

"Tch- hold on," Katsuki said, keeping his gaze from you as he got off the bed. He shuffled to his closet and threw a shirt at you. "Change into that- can't focus with you looking like you came back from damn wet t-shirt contest," he explained.

Slightly confused, you looked down and realized that with the spill set in your bra was completely visible through your shirt. You let out an amused laugh and unbuttoned your shirt to change into his.

"THE HELL?!" Katsuki exclaimed and quickly turned around.

"What?" you asked teasingly. "Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Change in the damn restroom," He barked.

"Oh relax- my hero costume is much more revealing than this," you replied.

Katsuki just let out an annoyed grunt.

"Didn't expect you to be so flustered by tits," You laughed. Even though he had turned around you caught his reflection in the mirror- his eyes slightly peered at you stretching to grab the shirt he threw at you.

You smirked at him in the mirror, and his eyes shot forward when you did- the small blush on his cheeks deepened at being caught.

"I don't mind you know- if I did, I would have gone to the restroom to change," You said.

"Just hurry up," he said roughly.

You eyed the back of him- his hands tightly bound into fists and the blush now evident on the tips of his ears. It was fun to see Katsuki so flustered. It was such a change from his usual attitude. As if finally, something had power over the stubborn boy. The feeling gave rise to devious thoughts that you couldn't say no to.

"Have you not seen boobs before?" You asked, tilting your head to the side.

"HAH?! Course I have!" He yelled.

"I mean in person- up close," you clarified.

Your question seemed to stun Katsuki- for the first time, he was speechless. He wanted to tell you to shut the hell up and change already so you could get back to studying but- his mind was racing with why you were asking him such a stupid question. Until you asked another-

"Do you want to?" You asked almost in a whisper.

What kind of question was that? Of course, he wanted to- but... he wasn't some damn perv like Mineta or Kaminari.

"Tch- you think I'm some fucking perv like those other extras. Just change so we can get back to studying," he finally answered.

"No- I offered that makes it ok- and that blush on your face says otherwise. You think I can't see that?" You teased.

Katsuki grunted and turned around to face you, "You're not going to fucking give this up, are you?" He said, pretending it was your stubbornness that was making him give in and not his own desires.

You smiled at his flustered expression, "I will- if you tell me honestly you don't want to." You said winking at him.

Katsuki gritted his teeth and his nose scrunched up.

"That's what I thought- you can't can you?" You giggled.

"You're so damn provocative," He complained but sat next to you on the bed.

"This has been bugging me all day anyway- been dying to get it off," you said unsnapping the back of your bra and exposing your breasts.

Katsuki's eyes widened at you- shocked that your offer was not just a tease. The blush on his face ignited once more and so did his scowl as his eyes gazed at your exposed skin. He looked equally frustrated and flustered as if he was angry at his own desires. Katsuki hated feeling vulnerable- and you knew just the ways to get the best of him.

"You can squeeze them if you want," You offered further.

Katsuki only peered at you for a moment to ensure your offer was legitimate consent before quickly squeezing one of your breasts in his hand. As he did, he turned his face away from you- hiding his lack of composure. You were soft, and warm, and all his boy hormones screamed at him to stuff his face in your chest. He was sure if he turned to look at the sight of your breast in his hand, he wouldn't be able to control himself, and he didn't want to give you that satisfaction of having power over him.

As rough as he was everywhere else in his life you were surprised at the gentleness he used to squeeze you.

Katsuki dropped his hand but remained looking away from you and he tried to regain himself.

You took mercy on him and threw his shirt over your head finally.

"This is a comfy shirt," you said, trying to change the subject and ease the embarrassment oozing off Katsuki.

"Keep it as long as you want," he grunted and cleared his throat making a grab for his textbook again. "Alright... what question did you need help with again brat?" he asked- attempting to move on and switch back to his usual rough demeanor.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @zanarkandskylines

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nereidprinc3ss · 8 months ago

Text

do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days.

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days.

It’s scary.

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else.

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space.

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up.

But you’re not quite there yet.

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy.

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting.

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice.

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting.

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either.

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause.

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally.

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick.

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach.

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment.

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all.

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat.

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat.

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself.

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position.

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him.

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass.

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that.

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step.

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy.

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you.

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea.

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence.

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes.

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there.

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather.

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do.

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue.

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder.

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out.

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person.

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now.

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort.

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you.

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him.

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle.

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer.

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up.

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes.

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man.

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that.

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind.

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning.

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—”

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again.

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this.

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings.

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you.

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff.

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group.

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice.

Soon, it’s just the two of you.

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond.

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.”

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high.

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder.

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts.

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence.

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice.

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud.

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing.

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset.

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running.

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears.

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream.

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care.

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right.

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you.

You feel like you might throw up.

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away.

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking.

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is.

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying.

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder.

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette.

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you.

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection.

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you.

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them.

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday.

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again.

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale.

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice.

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive.

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more.

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby.

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again.

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink.

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words.

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles.

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk.

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup.

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant.

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit.

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it.

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede.

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done.

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you.

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him.

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom.

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta.

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever.

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side.

“You in there?”

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup.

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing.

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes.

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating.

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him.

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate.

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed.

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive.

Spencer attempts to speak again.

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?”

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face.

You don’t know where it comes from, either.

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms.

Too scared.

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too.

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room.

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final.

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home.

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do.

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing.

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet.

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move.

If only time would freeze before he could walk away.

But it doesn’t.

He sucks in a decisive breath.

“Okay,” he murmurs.

It’s that fucking phone call all over again.

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up.

part 5.5

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