#he doesn’t trust their words more of their actions

[creations-of-the-dreamlight]

I was inspired by @theoneandonlysourcandy’s The Doctor headcanons that I wanted to make a few for The Goop of All Time Doey (I’m totally copying you :3). Updated a bit and added some more.

🎩 He gives you the space you need to grow and learn, and they help from the sidelines and watch. He trust you on your own in the factory. They know what you’ve done and they respect how far you’ve come.

🎩 with ^^ being said, you often find them muttering to themselves about how worried they are about you. How much they wish they could keep you by their sides forever and never let you out of their sight

🎩 cold can be a big trigger for them due to The Doctors traps. Smetimes they will wrap a piece of dough around you- either entire body or just the smallest bit. He lies, saying he’s worried it’s too cold for you. But deep down both of you know they need your warmth.

🎩 Doey really enjoys music. When he isn’t doing his job as the guardian of Safe Haven, he likes to sing. You and them sometimes sing duets when you are patrolling together.

🎩 they have learned how to shape themselves perfectly to make the comfiest bed for you when you two are sleeping.

🎩 Doey pretty much has all the love languages except words of affirmation- most nice things are really a trigger to him. Being around you is different. You focus on action over words, and hardly speak. You’re not one of the ‘gentle voices’ to him.

🎩 Doey, as a personality, is a bit seperate from the three original kids. It’s not its own seperate personality, but kind of like a mask they put on that gained legs and can move on its own sometime. When you first met it was just this mask. You’ve gotten to know each one better.

⭐️ Jack is still a child at heart- and all he wants to do is play. When he’s with you he’s normally raring with energy. You either play with the other toys, play a game by yourselves, or read books together. You taught him how to make a chess board and then how to play it. He oftentimes falls asleep curled up around you while you read to him.

🍊 Even when it’s just him, and he has downtime, Matthew always has to be doing something productive. Deep down he feels bad- if anyone should have time to themselves, it’s Kevin and Jake- so he forces himself to ‘bring something to the table’ and be useful when he’s out. Nothing could deter him from this, so instead you just help him. Cleaning up, taking care of toys in medical, scrapping up food, you do it together. Your company means the world to him.

💥Kevin was the most suspicious of you. He held onto his suspicion for a long time. But who could blame him? He was the angry one, he was the one who had to snap on any potential danger. And they learned Everything was a potential danger. The first time you ever saw him on his own he was breaking down. For a moment he tried to fight you. But you’re more resilient than that. You toughed through and eventually got him to sit down. He sobbed in your arms for a long time. He doesn’t like to be out on his own, but when he is it’s normally with you, holding you in some way.

🎩 Jack eyes are more yellow when he’s front, Matthew’s orange, and Kevin’s red. If they are just Doey, their eyes are blank and hollow with no light in them.



Bonus one for my trans/gender fucky gang like me :3

🎩 They use their clay to help you with dysphoria (making different clothes, changing different parts of your body, helping to bind safely)

🎩 they spent months searching the factory for things to make comfortable clothes for you

🎩 Many of the toys only remember you from your time in the factory (pre-transition). Doey is gentle with those who don’t get and need to be explained, and fiercely defends you against anyone trying to be rude on purpose.

🎩 If they continue even after he told them off? Dinner is served, ig.

[jjaysontodd]

The more I read Jason the more I’m starting to think he might have bpd.

[fujii-draws]

(BREAKING THROUGH THE WALL) YOUR RECENT ART WITH DUSK AND BIBBONS ACTIVATED A WHOLE BUNCHA SPOTS IN MY HEAD AND IM GONNA TALK ABOUT IT TO YOU BECAUSE IT DID SOMETHING TO ME.

i think theres something about how the emotional journey that ribbons and dusk had to go on together as a reconciliation to what once was and what had unfortunately happened results in ribbons' ultimate act of trust in dusknoir, with the action of going head to head toe to toe with cresselia's idiot brother. how at first, she didn't even consider the IDEA of even looking at his direction and just throwing snide remarks at him when he tried to be more casual and stick around and now she trusts him with what is essentially the grandest point in their journey, and its both the amount of trust both of them have in each other that just speaks MULTITUDES. ribbons may had a rocky (and justified) path on the whole idea of trusting dusknoir, and yet she considered HIM to go with her on a mission that was equivalent to the world's weight on her shoulders. she chose HIM to be her support, and with just how much dusknoir doubted himself that he isnt worthy of such a pleasantry, it changed something within him. all his efforts, everything he strived for to ensure that the kids will stay safe away from the clutches of harm (and by some extent from himself), and all the guilt, shame and pain that resided in his heart from what he did.. this is the decisive battle that will decide if he is worthy of her respect, and to ensure his past will die a valiant death as he will look into the new future he is granted to.

Sinnoh I know sometimes my responses to ur tags/asks are short and oftentimes lackluster in comparison. But the reason for that is bc you quite literally take the words right out of my mouth.

[miihho]

THE KIND OF GUY

( squid game edition boys ) nsfw

Frontman / 001 /

— HE'S THE KIND OF GUY who’d manipulate you subtly, weaving himself so deeply into your life that you wouldn’t realize until it’s too late that he’s made himself the sole person you can rely on, the only one you can trust.

— He’s the kind of guy who rarely lets anyone get close, especially in a place like this. As the Frontman, he’s used to controlling everything with precision and cold detachment. But when it comes to you, something shifts. The games are brutal, unforgiving, but he finds ways to make sure you get a little more help—extra food to keep you going, or a quiet word to the guards to make sure they would help you. He doesn’t do this for anyone else, but for you, he bends the rules just enough to keep you alive, his actions hidden beneath the mask but speaking volumes about the care he won’t openly admit.

— The kind of guy who’d undress you with his eyes from across the room, watching you as you laugh and chat with your teammates, completely unaware of the intensity of his gaze. His stare is almost predatory, soaking in every detail, devouring you without a single word.

— The kind of guy who never shows his jealousy outright, keeping his emotions carefully concealed behind a calm exterior. But his eyes—sharp and piercing—will find the person you’re talking to, delivering a silent, bone-chilling warning. Without a word, he makes them feel exposed, unsettled, and unwelcome.

As their confidence crumbles under his unrelenting gaze, they’ll stammer some flimsy excuse, their discomfort driving them to leave in a hurry. You, sweet and oblivious, will watch them go, your mind never grasping the quiet dominance he just asserted.

And when the space between you clears, he’ll step in with perfect timing, his presence effortlessly stealing your focus. His voice will be warm, his words lighthearted, drawing you into an easy conversation as if nothing had happened.

— The kind of guy who always gets what he wants, and if he’s set his sights on you, nothing and no one will stand in his way. Anyone who tries to come between you and him is dealt with swiftly—whether it’s a rival or someone foolish enough to fall for you. If they dare challenge him, they’re as good as gone.

— In sex, he’s the kind of guy who revels in your every movement, his hands gripping your waist with just the right amount of force. “Good girl,” he’d murmur, his voice low and dripping with desire, each word sending shivers down your spine. “That’s it, attagirl,” he’d whisper, his eyes locked onto yours, dark and filled with raw admiration, as if every move you made was crafted to drive him wild.

If you’re straddling him, bouncing on his cock with desperate urgency, he’d lean back against the wall, his head tilting slightly as his eyes flutter shut, a deep, guttural moan spilling from his lips. His fingers digging into your waist, controlling your movements with a firm, possessive grip as his ragged breaths mingled with husky groans. “Fuck, you feel so good—so tight, so perfect,” he’d rasp, his voice dripping with raw hunger. The words would make your pace falter for just a heartbeat before his hands tightened on your hips, driving you down harder, faster, his need for you utterly insatiable.

But if he’s mad at you, it’s completely different. He’d have you on your stomach, your back arched as he pushes your head down into the bed, his breath hot against your ear as he growls, “Such a fucking bad girl.” in a deep, rough voice that makes your body shudder. His frustration would translate into every powerful thrust, his movements unrelenting as your muffled cries echo into the pillow. The way he claims you, rough and demanding, would send you spiraling, your body surrendering completely as he makes sure you feel every inch of his cock.

— He’d absolutely be the type to let you cockwarm him while he’s busy, his focus shifting between his work and the needy little whines you make every time you shift in his lap. His hand would lazily rest on your thigh, occasionally gripping tighter when you squirm too much, a silent warning to behave.

But when you get too desperate, too needy for him to ignore, he’d smirk, shifting his hips just enough to tease you, his cock pressing against all the right spots. “Patience, baby,” he’d murmur, his voice dripping with amusement as you let out a frustrated whimper.

And when he finally indulges you, he leans back on the couch, drink in hand, watching as you take control, bouncing up and down on his cock with reckless abandon. His eyes stay locked on you, hungry and half-lidded, while he takes a slow sip of his drink. The big screen glows in the background, but his full attention is on the way you move, the way you moan his name like it’s the only word you know.

“Look at you,” he’d groan, his voice low and thick. “So fucking desperate for me, riding my cock like a good girl. Keep going, baby—show me how much you need it.” And when you finally fall apart, trembling in his lap, he’ll just chuckle, pulling you close to kiss you as if rewarding you for putting on the perfect show.

— He’s the kind of man who makes your whole body burn. His panting breaths, low grunts, and the slick sheen of sweat gliding down his chiseled abs are enough to drive you mad. His hand pushes back his messy hair, but that one strand falls stubbornly over his forehead, making him look devastatingly wrecked as his tired, lust-heavy eyes lock onto yours. Each deep thrust is accompanied by a guttural sound from deep in his chest, the intensity in his gaze leaving you utterly undone. He’d lift you like you weigh nothing, slamming you onto the bed with a feral growl. His tie is gone in seconds, ripped away and tossed aside as his jaw clenches, every move commanding your attention and submission.

You were utterly wrecked beneath him, legs spread wide on his bed, your body trembling as his fingers plunged into you, hitting every spot that made your back arch off the sheets. His smirk was downright sinful as he watched you fall apart, his voice low and teasing.

“Feel good, baby?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. The way your thighs quivered and your nails dug into his back said it all. He chuckled when all you could do was nod, your breathless moans spilling out as his fingers worked you mercilessly. You’d already cum twice, your mind foggy and body pliant, but he wasn’t done with you. His dark, lust-filled eyes pinned you in place, making you feel even more exposed, more vulnerable, and it only made you crave him more.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Gotta make sure you’re ready for me, baby. Can’t have my girl getting hurt when I stretch this pretty little pussy out.” His words were sweet and filthy all at once, paired with soft kisses along your jaw and forehead that contrasted with the way his fingers fucked into you.

When he finally pulled his fingers out, leaving you aching and desperate, he unzipped himself, letting his cock spring free, already slick with precum. He stroked himself slowly, teasing you as your eyes went wide, taking in how thick and hard he was.

“See this, baby? All of it’s for you.”

As he pressed into you, inch by inch, your walls stretched to take him, the fullness almost too much to bear. You cried out, clutching at him, but he only groaned deeply, his voice husky. “Fuck… this tight little pussy was made for me,” he rasped, his hips sinking into you completely.

“You’re taking me so well, baby,” he said, his breath hot against your lips as he leaned in to kiss you deeply. His thrusts started slow, deliberate, every movement sending shockwaves through your body.

“fuck, you’re perfect… so good for me, taking every inch like the sweet little slut you are.” His praise was filthy, his tone raw, and the way his body pinned yours down left you completely at his mercy.

HI I'M BACK! also Happy new year everyone! Which person should i do next? Thanos? Salesman? Player 333? Lmk!

[cumironi]

SHUT UP, STOP IT!

summary. there is nothing better than make-up sex after you and your two lovely boyfriends, GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU. . . having an argument.

wc. 7,6k | [☆] MASTERLIST | part. 1

warning. established relationship, boyfriends! satosugu, petnames, unprotected/raw sex, double penetration, praise kink, anal, mentioned of few round.

you look at geto, noticing the lingering guilt in his eyes. geto’s gaze meets yours, his eyes reflecting the lingering guilt. “come here,” you say softly. when you tell him to come closer, he moves to kneel between your legs, his expression still marked by regret.

as you slip his long hair behind his ear, your touch is gentle and reassuring. “you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself,” you say softly, your voice filled with understanding. “i know you care deeply, and that’s why this hurts. but you’re not alone in this.”

geto's shoulders slump at your words, the weight of his guilt visibly lessening. his eyes stay fixed on yours, the regret in them slowly being replaced by a soft vulnerability.

he leans into your touch, his head tilting slightly involuntarily at the touch of your fingers to his hair. “i know,” he mutters, his voice still heavy with guilt. “i just wish i hadn't let it get this bad.” geto’s voice is soft, the regret and guilt audible in it. “i just… i just can’t forgive myself for causing you pain,” he murmurs, his voice strained.

you give him a reassuring smile, your voice gentle. “i’m not in pain anymore, so you can stop feeling guilty,” you say softly. “we’ve talked things out, and we’re moving forward. it’s okay to let go of that guilt now. we’re okay.”

geto’s eyes search yours, the guilt still visible but diminishing by the second. he nods slowly, his expression taut but hopeful. he speaks softly, his voice still laced slightly with regret. “i know. but i just… it’s hard to shake this feeling, you know? it’s like a knot in my chest that won’t loosen.”

so you lean down and gently kiss his chest, then move to his neck and jaw, your touch tender and soothing. each kiss is a silent reassurance, conveying that you're okay now and that you're not mad at him anymore. your actions are meant to comfort and ease the lingering regret he feels, showing him through your touch that things are healing.

his breath hitches at the feel of your lips on his chest, his body tensing for a brief moment before melting into your touch. each press of your lips sends waves of comfort through him, the knot in his chest loosening with every gentle kiss. he wraps his arms around your back, pulling you closer, his grip tight and unyielding. when your lips reach his jaw, he tilts his head to give you better access, his eyes fluttering shut.

you pull away slightly, your hands still resting gently on his shoulders. you look into his eyes with a soft, reassuring gaze. “don’t feel guilty anymore,” you say gently. “we’re okay. let go of that weight you’re carrying. we’re moving forward together.” his eyes open slowly, meeting yours. the guilt in his eyes has lessened even more, replaced by a deep vulnerability and newfound trust. he nods slowly, his hands gently pulling you even closer to him.

he leans his forehead against yours, his voice soft and sincere. “i’m trying, i promise,” he murmurs. “i’m trying to let it go. it’s just… it’s just hard, sometimes.” you let out a sight. geto suguru can be stubborn when he wants to.

“shut up, stop it,” you softly murmur. you gently move your hands from his shoulders to his neck, guiding him closer. “come here,” you whisper softly, pulling him towards you until your lips touch his. he smiles faintly at your soft command, his body willingly moved closer to yours. he doesn’t protest when you gently pull him closer, his eyes closing instinctively as your lips meet his.

the kiss starts slow and hesitant, his body tense against yours as if he’s expecting you to pull away at any second. but gradually, his lips soften, the tension in his body melting away as he surrenders to the tender connection. as geto continues to lean towards you, your back gently presses against gojo’s firm chest. gojo's arms instinctively wrap around you from behind, his presence a comforting anchor as you and geto share a tender kiss. the closeness between all three of you creates a cocoon of warmth and reassurance.

with you snuggled between them, their bodies pressed closely against yours, a sense of security washes over you. gojo’s firm chest supports your back, while geto’s muscular arms hold you firmly in place, trapping you in a comforting embrace. the kiss between you and geto deepens, the heat between you slowly building, while gojo’s hands gently caresses your sides and lower back.

the kiss continues, geto’s actions growing bolder with each passing moment. his mouth becomes more urgent, his hands gripping you tighter and pulling you closer to him, like he’s desperate to make up for lost time. you let out a soft moan in his lips.

the sound of your soft moan in his lips triggers something inside of him. he deepens the kiss, his mouth growing more eager against yours, while his hands grip you even tighter, pulling you as closely as possible against him. gojo’s hands on your sides and backside continue to caress you, his own lips slowly finding their way to your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

the combined sensations of geto’s lips on yours and gojo’s lips on your neck send shivers down your spine, your senses overwhelmed by the dual assault of their mouths. the three of you are a tangle of limbs and sensations, the heat between you growing with each passing second. geto’s tongue gently probes your lips, seeking entry into your mouth, as gojo’s lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, his teeth gently nipping at your skin.

your soft moans and gasps between them only seem to fuel their desire, their mouths growing more demanding and insistent. geto’s tongue gently explores your mouth, while gojo’s lips continue to trace a path of kisses and nips down your neck. gojo’s hands on your sides become even more possessive, each touch leaving a trail of heat on your skin.

gojo’s lips on your neck are now firmer, his kisses turning into soft bites, his teeth gently nipping and worrying the sensitive skin. his hands remain firmly on your sides, while his fingers occasionally digging into your flesh, claiming ownership.

geto’s tongue dances in your mouth, his kisses growing more insistent, as if he’s desperate to taste as much of you as possible. his hands, meanwhile, have found their way to the underside of your thighs, slowly pulling them apart. geto pulls away from your lips to go down to your cheeks, to your jaw and giving it a soft bite before it lands to another side of your neck.

his mouth on your neck feels as skilled as gojo’s, leaving a trail of heat and desire in its wake. his teeth gently nibble at your skin before his lips find the sensitive area behind your ear, his breath hot against it. gojo’s lips, meanwhile, have moved to the other side of your neck, his hands sliding under your shirt in search of skin, his touch deliberate and possessive. you turn your head to gojo, hunger for his lips also— the lips you haven't been kissed for a weeks.

gojo senses your turn towards him, his eyes meeting yours as his hands under your shirt pause. a faint smile tugs at his lips before he claims your mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. his lips move against yours urgently, his tongue quickly slipping into your mouth as one hand on your side moves to your chin, tilting your head back slightly to deepen the kiss even further.

gojo’s kiss is frantic and possessive, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth as if he’s desperate to reclaim what he’d been forced to give up for the past two weeks. his hand on your chin holds your head in place, his grip firm but not uncomfortable, while his other hand under your shirt slowly moves up, caressing your bare stomach.

geto’s mouth continues its assault on the other side of your neck, his teeth and lips leaving a trail of heat and want across your flesh. but his hands remain on your thighs, slowly spreading them apart, his fingers gently digging into your skin.

geto’s mouth leaves a scorching path along your neck, his teeth and lips claiming every inch of your skin with a mix of possessiveness and desperation. his hands, gripping your thighs so tightly, gradually spread your legs apart, his fingers digging softly into your flesh as he positions himself between them.

he mutters softly against your skin, his breath hot and urgent, “god, i’ve missed this. missed feeling you like this.” meanwhile, gojo’s kisses have become even more hungry, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth as if he’s trying to make up for the time he’s lost. his hand on your stomach moves upward, closer to your chest, his fingers gently tracing the outlines of your curves.

gojo’s tongue explores your mouth urgently, each stroke of it sending waves of heat through your body. his hand on your stomach ascends up to your chest, his fingers tracing the contours of your curves, mapping out every dip and rise of your body. he breaks the kiss, his lips moving down to your neck, his voice low and raw with desire. “i’ve missed the taste of you.”

as gojo’s lips find a sensitive spot on your neck, geto resumes the attention to your collarbone, his teeth gently nibbling on the skin. his hands continue to grip your thighs, holding you in place, his touch both gentle but firm and unyieldingly possessive. gojo’s lips make their way to your ear, his warm breath against the shell sending shivers down your spine. “god, I’ve missed the sound of your moans,” he mutters, his voice rough with longing.

your moans in response to his words only seem to fuel gojo’s fire further. his lips find their way back to your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin with a little more force, while one hand gently cups your breast, his touch both claiming and gentle. geto, meanwhile, moves his attention to your jaw, his kisses becoming more urgent as he nips and sucks at the soft skin. his hands on your thighs gently spread them further apart, his grip unyielding but not harsh.

while gojo’s tongue draws a path of heat across your neck, geto’s mouth travels to the curve of your shoulder, his teeth and lips leaving a trail of wet kisses in its wake. one of his hands gently guides your thigh around his waist, as he presses himself closer to you, his body flush against yours. gojo’s lips find their way back to your ear, his voice a low, urgent whisper. “i need to taste you, god i need to taste you.”

you moan, letting your head fall back to his shoulder for a second. “i need you,” you murmur between your moan. your hands digging into their skins, desperate for them. the sound of your moan and your desperate words seem to ignite a fire within both of them.

gojo’s grip on your body tightens, his body pressing closer against you as if he’s desperate to mold himself against you. his voice is low and gravelly, filled with need. “god, baby, the way you sound…”

geto’s breath against your skin is warm and heavy, his body shuddering slightly as he presses himself against you, his hands gripping your thigh even tighter. “say it again,” he mutters, his voice strained. “say you need us.”

your eyes fluster open as you look at them. they can see a little bit of your saliva escape from the corner of your lips. “i need you,” you repeat, whimpering as if you're pleading to them. “please..” you puff a breathless moan.

the sight of you, breathless and pleading, your eyes heavy with desire and need, sends a ripple of heat through both of them. gojo’s eyes dart between yours, his breath coming in short gasps. he cups your face in his hand, his thumb gently wiping the saliva from the corner of your mouth. his voice is low and gravelly when he speaks, “we can’t say no when you beg like that.”

geto, meanwhile, lets out a low growl, his body shuddering against you, his hands gripping your thigh in a possessive grip. gojo’s lips find their way back to your neck, his kisses a mixture of soft and hungry, while geto’s mouth makes a trail of soft bites and kisses down your collarbone, his hands slowly pulling at the edges of your shirt.

“i need to feel your skin on mine,” gojo mutters between kisses, his voice strained with restraint. “i need to feel all of you.”

gojo quickly pulls your shirt off over your head before flinging it away, his eyes drinking in the sight of your bare skin. his hands gently glide over your chest, the touch of his fingers leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

both of them work together to divest you of the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare and vulnerable beneath them. but there is no shame in being seen like this by them— only a deep sense of trust and safety. you know they would never do anything to hurt you.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” gojo murmurs, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, feeling them harden under his touch. geto hums in agreement, nipping lightly at your earlobe before trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

at the same time, geto pulls away and his eyes roam across your body, his gaze heavy and hungry. he sits back slightly, his hands slowly sliding your skirt up, revealing your underwear.

geto’s hands on your thigh slowly slide to the front, his fingers gently tracing the edge of your underwear. “can we take this off?” geto’s voice is a low, strained question. “god, we need to see all of you.”

you nod, “yes.”

they need no further persuasion.

gojo’s hands continue to explore your body, his fingers gently tracing each dip and rise of your skin. his lips return to your neck, his mouth hot and hungry against your skin.

“you’re so beautiful,” he mutters between kisses. “so damn beautiful.”

geto, meanwhile, slowly peels your skirt off, his fingers trailing across your thighs in the process. his eyes never leave you, his gaze a mix of desire and awe. once your skirt is off, his hands move back to your thighs, his grip gentle but unyieldingly possessive.

geto leans forward, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, right above where your legs meet. his hands slip underneath your panties, slowly pushing them down until they fall away completely. he looks up at you then, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of your bare pussy.

gojo, for his part, continues to worship your neck and shoulders with his mouth, his hands moving lower to cup your breasts, squeezing gently. his thumbs brush over your hardened nipples, causing you to gasp and arch into his touch. geto’s mouth finally descends upon your pussy, his tongue lapping at your folds before delving inside you. he groans around you, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

gojo, meanwhile, lifts one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking gently on the nipple while rolling the other between his thumb and forefinger. his free hand moves down to join geto’s, his fingers joining in on the pleasuring of your clit.

the sensation of two sets of hands and mouths working in tandem on your body is overwhelming, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

“oh god—” the air got knocked out of your lung. your one hand gripped tightly on the edge of the couch underneath you while the other held to gojo's neck. gojo smiles against your breast, the curve of his lips evident even as he continues to suckle at your nipple. his fingers pinch and roll the other, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.

geto doubles his efforts, his tongue swirling around your clit before plunging back inside you. he sucks hard on the bundle of nerves, his nose nudging against your clit with each thrust of his tongue.

your hips buck involuntarily, grinding yourself harder against geto’s face. you can feel your orgasm building rapidly, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with each passing second. you let out a strangled moan, your nails digging into gojo’s shoulder.

“that’s it baby,” gojo coos, his voice vibrating against your skin. “let go.”

“i miss your taste so much, baby,” geto murmur on your fold, sending a jolt of vibration through your body. as you sinking more to his chest, gojo can feel your body trembling in front of him. gojo releases your breast with a pop, his eyes locking onto yours as he watches you come undone. “come on, sweetheart,” he urges, his voice dripping with affection and desire, “let us have you.”

at the same moment, geto surges forward, his mouth closing over your clit in a fierce suction. his tongue lashes at the sensitive bud as he devours you whole, swallowing your cries of ecstasy. “oh. . . suguru— please..” another moan tear from your throat, filling the air in your living room.

the dual assault proves too much, and you shatter apart, your orgasm crashing over you in waves. your body convulses, your juices flooding geto's eager mouth as he drinks you in greedily.

gojo catches you as you slump against him, cradling you close as he peppers your neck and jaw with soft kisses. “that's it, baby,” he whispers, his voice filled with pride and adoration. “you're so fucking perfect.” as you come down from your high, geto pulls back with a satisfied hum, his mouth glistening wetly. he laps at your folds once more, cleaning you thoroughly before pulling away entirely.

gojo, still holding you close, shifts slightly to give geto room to move. his own body is slick with sweat, the fabric of his clothing clinging uncomfortably to his skin. despite everything, he manages a small smile at the sight of your flushed and panting form.

“you were amazing,” he murmurs into your ear, his voice thick with approval and desire. “we could watch you come all day.” geto smirks up at you, his eyes gleaming with mischief. he rises from his position between your spread legs, his hands lingering on your thighs for a brief moment before he stands fully.

he turns towards gojo, leaning in to capture his lips in a passionate kiss. his hands move to grip gojo's waist, pulling him closer as he explores the depths of his mouth with his tongue.

meanwhile, gojo's hands move to hold onto geto, one hand resting on his hip while the other trails down his chest and abdomen. he breaks the kiss only when he needs to catch his breath, a soft sigh escaping his lips. you lean against the couch as you watch your two boyfriends kissing each other in hunger, like they are finally feel alive after the weeks of torture because of the fight the three of you have this past weeks.

the sight of them together sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, your spent body already beginning to stir with renewed interest. you shift slightly on the couch, spreading your legs wider in silent invitation.

as if sensing your movement, both men break their kiss, turning to look at you with matching expressions of heat and longing. gojo reaches out a hand, beckoning you closer. “come here, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and rough with desire, “let us show you how much we've missed you.”

as you make your way over to them, geto and gojo exchange a heated glance, communicating silently. they step closer to each other, their bodies molding together perfectly. geto's hands slip under gojo's shirt, pushing it up and over his head before tossing it aside carelessly. he does the same with his own clothes, leaving them both bare from the waist up.

they continue to kiss deeply as they strip each other, hands roaming freely over newly exposed skin. when they are both naked, they take a moment to just drink in the sight of each other— the defined muscles, the flushed skin, the straining erections. then they converge on you again, surrounding you in a cocoon of heat and hardness and love.

gojo's arms wrap around you from behind, pulling you flush against his chest as he nuzzles into your hair. his cock presses insistently against your ass, hot and hard and ready.

geto, meanwhile, kneads at your breasts, his palms sending sparks of pleasure through your sensitive flesh. he captures one of your nipples between his teeth, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. their combined attentions send a rush of desire coursing through you, your body responding eagerly to their touches. you find yourself arching into gojo's embrace, pushing back against his erection, while also pressing your breasts further into geto's grasp.

the sensations are almost overwhelming, but in the best possible way. you can feel the tension building between you once more, the promise of another explosive climax on the horizon. and this time, you won't be alone...

gojo's hands slide down your sides, tracing the curves of your hips before settling on your thighs. he gives them a firm squeeze, urging them apart as he aligns himself with your entrance. with a low growl of desire, he pushes inside you slowly, relishing the tight clench of your walls around his throbbing length. every inch that he sinks deeper sends ripples of pleasure through both of you.

“oh, god..” you mumble the moment you feel gojo's cock twitching inside you making your eyes flickering for a second.

meanwhile, geto continues to lavish attention on your breasts, his mouth moving lower to tease at your nipples with soft flicks of his tongue. he pinches and rolls the hardened buds between his fingers, coaxing even more delicious pain into your pleasure-soaked senses.

the double stimulation is nearly unbearable, but you don't want it to stop. the cause of gojo's action you instantly wrapping your arms around geto's shoulder, looking for a support as gojo continues to fucking you from behind while standing. “o-oh,” you stammered, “i-i miss your dick so much,” you added between your moan.

“fuck, i missed this too baby,” gojo groans, his hips snapping forward to bury himself deep inside you. “missed feeling your tight little pussy squeezing my cock.” his words are punctuated by the sound of skin slapping against skin, the obscene noise filling the room along with your moans and gasps. he sets a relentless pace, pounding into you with all the pent-up frustration and longing of the past weeks.

geto, not wanting to be left out, takes advantage of your new position to trail kisses down your body. he licks a path across your collarbone, pausing to nip lightly at the tender flesh. then he moves lower, laving attention on your nipples once more before continuing his descent.

geto doesn't pause until he's kneeling in front of you, his mouth hovering just above your most sensitive spot. he looks up at you with dark lust-filled eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in anticipation. then, without warning, he dives in, his tongue delving deep into your folds to taste you anew. he savors your flavor, drinking in every drop of your essence as if it's the most exquisite delicacy.

meanwhile, gojo grips your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrusts harder and faster. each stroke hits a spot deep within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your entire being. the dual assault leaves you teetering on the edge of obliviation once more, your climax building quickly beneath the skilled ministrations of both men.

“f-fuck— ah!” you low scream a shaking moan. your hand tugging harshly on geto's long hair while the other tugging the back of his head for support. they can feel your body shaking on their skin.

the sensation of your nails scraping down his scalp sends a jolt straight to geto's cock, hardening it even further. he doubles his efforts, his tongue swirling around your clit with abandon while two fingers plunge into your dripping cunt. he watches as you come undone, your whole body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. your juices coat his face, the tangy sweetness driving him wilder.

meanwhile, gojo keeps pistoning into you relentlessly, using your trembling form as an anchor to pull himself even deeper. his grunts fill the air, echoing your cries as he chases his own release. the sight of you writhing between them, lost in pleasure... it's too much for either man to bear. with a shared groan of satisfaction, they reach their peaks simultaneously.

with a final powerful thrust, gojo spills himself inside you, his seed filling your welcoming warmth. his cum spurts forth in thick ropes, marking you as his once more. at the same time, geto laps up every last drop of your release, his tongue working tirelessly to milk every tremor from your quivering body. when he feels your spasms subside, he pulls away reluctantly, licking his lips with a satisfied smirk.

gojo collapses beside you on the couch, panting heavily as he recover from his intense exertions. their chests rise and fall rapidly, slick with sweat from their vigorous lovemaking session. as the aftershocks ripple through your body, contentment washes over you. you snuggle closer to geto and gojo, drawing comfort from their presence as well as satisfaction from what just happened.

your head rests against geto's bare sweaty chest, seeing how his cock still stands straight— his angry red tip spitting his pre-cum each second. your hands move to grasp his cock into your hands, slowly moving it up and down as you look up to him. geto lets out a low groan as your small hand wraps around his girth, stroking him with practiced ease. his hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction from your touch.

when you move to straddle his lap, he grasps your thighs firmly, guiding you onto his erect member. aided by your slickness, you sink down onto him easily, taking him fully inside you once again.

gojo watches with hooded eyes from where he lies sprawled nearby, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “damn, i love watching you ride our boyfriend like that,” he murmurs appreciatively. with a playful wink in gojo's direction, geto threads his fingers through your hair and begins to guide your movements. he teaches you how to bounce atop him, each downward stroke hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your closed eyelids.

as much as you love having his tongue on your pussy, you need his cock too. your nails digging into geto's torso as you bounce slowly, enjoying every single vein of his cock on your velvet wall. “f-fuck, is your dick always this big?” you ask between your whining and moaning. the week of being ignored almost makes you forget how big his cock is.

“of course it is,” geto chuckles, his voice low and husky with arousal. “i wouldn't be able to satisfy such a greedy little thing as you otherwise.” his hips rise to meet yours on each downward stroke, thrusting upward to meet you halfway. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room once more, punctuating your whines and moans.

gojo shifts lazily on the couch, propping himself up on one elbow to watch the show. he smirks at your question about geto's size. “he might have mentioned something about it being larger than average during our training sessions,” he teases, winking at you suggestively.

your body responds eagerly to geto's every movement, your inner walls clenching around him rhythmically. his grip on your hips tightens as he helps set the rhythm, each thrust pushing you further down onto his shaft. the angle allows him to hit that sweet spot inside you perfectly, making your toes curl and your breath hitch.

“feel good?” he asks, leaning up to capture one of your nipples between his teeth. he bites gently, adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

you mindlessly throwing your body back, knowing geto would always catch you— and he did, instinctively, his muscular arm wrapped around your waist in instant. your eyes flutter shut, “oh god, it so good— fu—ah! fucking good,” you whimper. geto releases your nipple with a soft pop, trailing his lips up your neck to whisper hotly in your ear. “that's right, baby. take what you need from me."

he grips your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to gain better access as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. the couch creaks under the force of his thrusts, the sound mingling with your desperate moans.

gojo watches intently, his own cock twitching with interest. he reaches out to palm himself, giving his shaft slow strokes as he drinks in the erotic spectacle unfolding before him. “you're so beautiful when you let loose like this,” gojo murmurs, his gaze locked on your flushed face and heaving breasts, “can't wait to see you take both of us at once.”

geto trailing his lips up your neck before pulling away and leaning against the couch. he grips your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to gain better access as he pounds into you with renewed vigor. the couch creaks under the force of his thrusts, the sound mingling with your desperate moans.

they both watch you with hunger as you ride geto's cock. your lips tear another for another moan, whine, and whimper. as you continue to bounce on geto's cock, he holds your hips steady, changing the angle slightly to aim for that special spot inside you. his pelvis grinds against yours with each downward stroke, ensuring he stimulates your clit with every thrust.

geto's breath comes faster, growing ragged as he nears his peak. one hand moves to caress your breast, kneading the supple mound roughly. he pinches and rolls your hardened nipple between his fingers, heightening your pleasure.

“fuck, i'm close,” geto grits out through clenched teeth. “want you to come for me first, though. soak my cock like a good girl.” gojo nods approvingly at his friend's words, giving himself a few more firm strokes as he continues to admire your erotic display. “let go for us, baby,” gojo murmur as he lean closer to your breast.

“oh, my god—” you whining, eyebrows furrowed together. your nails scratching geto's chest as you start to feel your legs trembling— trying so hard to hold your scream.

geto can tell you're close, your inner walls tightening around him in waves. he quickens his pace, slamming up into you with abandon. each thrust hits that sweet spot deep within you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“that's it, babe. come all over my cock,” he encourages, his voice rough with lust. his other hand snakes around to find your swollen clit, rubbing circles over it with just enough pressure to tip you over the edge. with a loud cry, you finally surrender to the overwhelming sensations ripping through you. your climax crashes over you like a tidal wave, your inner muscles spasming wildly around geto’s throbbing length.

the feeling of your warm release coating his cock triggers his own orgasm moments later. with a guttural groan, he spills himself inside you once more, filling you up with his hot seed.

as your orgasm subsides, geto cradles you against his chest, holding you close as your breathing slows. he strokes your hair soothingly, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead. you rest your head against his chest, trying to catch your breath as your gaze with gojo's one who's looking at you smiling. geto hold you close, refuse to let you go as you cockwarming him.

“mhm,” geto hums softly, nuzzling into your hair. his cock twitches inside you, already starting to soften now that he's filled you to the brim with his cum. he whispers into your ear, “but we're not done yet, baby.”

as if to prove his point, geto rolls his hips underneath you, making sure every last drop of semen is thoroughly coated inside your soaking wet pussy. the added warmth only makes it easier for him to keep hard despite coming just minutes ago.

next to you, gojo chuckles softly. he rises from the couch, his erection still prominent despite his recent masturbation session— his own erection still rock-hard and leaking precum. he approaches you both, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “now for round three,” geto promises, already starting to harden again inside you. gojo stand behind you, as the black-haired reposition himself and you that still on his lap to be more comfortable and easy for gojo to reach.

you cried a protest, trying to wiggle your way out of them, already feeling sore, but they persistence. they can't help it but to craving for you. they haven't seen you for a week, and the fight and all the ignoring you ordeal make it even harder for them not to ruin you, their pretty little girlfriend.

you are no better, you miss them so much, especially having the feeling of them being inside you. but you can't help but to mumble a no, already can't shake the feeling of two of them being inside you at the same time. the thought itself already overwhelmed you.

geto and gojo exchange a look, their expressions mirroring each other's determination. they know you're sore, but they also know how much you crave their touch after being apart for so long.

“shh, it's okay, baby,” geto coos, stroking your cheek gently. his large hands gives your rear an affectionate squeeze, refusing to budge. “don't worry, sweetheart,” he coos reassuringly, “we'll go nice and slow. just relax and let us take care of you.”

true to his word, geto resumes his lazy thrusts, keeping the pace leisurely. it allows you to adjust to the stretch of having both their girthy cocks buried inside you simultaneously.

gojo takes advantage of your pliant state, lining himself up with your entrance. he pushes in slowly, inch by delicious inch, until he's fully sheathed within your welcoming heat. “mmm, so tight,” he praises breathlessly, giving you a moment to acclimate to the dual penetration.

both men hold back, determined to let you dictate the pace this time. gojo wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer against him. “just relax and let us worship you properly,” he murmurs into your ear.

“oh god, oh god, fuck—” you let out a loud curse.

your back arch sharply towards gojo until you shoulders touching his. you feel so full of their cock inside you at the same time. stuffing you so well making your head dizzy and spinning.

their combined girth stretches you wide, filling you to the brim with their thick lengths. every small movement sends waves of pleasure rippling through your body, making it difficult to think straight.

“fuck baby, so tight...” geto groans beneath you, his eyes glazing over with desire. his hands grip your hips tightly as he starts to move again, setting a languid rhythm that has you gasping for air.

gojo mirrors his movements, sliding in and out of you in sync with geto. his breath hitches in his throat, a low growl escaping from deep within his chest. “jesus christ... you're amazing,” he murmurs into your ear, pressing heated kisses along the curve of your neck.

the double penetration is intense—the sensation unlike anything you've ever experienced before—but there's something undeniably thrilling about it too.

together, they begin to move, synchronizing their thrusts to create a rhythm designed to drive you wild. their hips rock back and forth in tandem, each stroke hitting that perfect spot inside you. the sensation is overwhelming, but in the best possible way—it feels incredible.

“b-baby,” you stammer from the pleasure. you can barely think straight, lost in the blissful haze enveloping you. every inch of your skin tingles with pleasure, every nerve ending alive with sensation. your mind goes blank except for the relentless pounding of their cocks against your sensitive insides.

your one arm reaches behind, grasping at nothing before you get a chance to hold gojo's neck desperately for a support, want him as close to you as he can be. “so g-good baby, don't— oh! stop,” you whimper.

feeling your grip tighten around his neck, gojo lets out a low chuckle. “that's what i thought you'd say,” he murmurs teasingly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. their synchronized thrusts continue unabated, driving deeper and harder with each passing second. the dual stimulation is almost unbearable—the pleasure building within you exponentially.

geto groans beneath you, his hands roaming over your curves with renewed vigor. “god damn... you're so fucking sexy when you're squirming like that,” he praises huskily.

despite your protests, neither man seems inclined to stop anytime soon. instead, they pick up the pace slightly—each stroke now punctuated by a sharp intake of breath from either side of you. the dual assault on your senses is almost too much to handle. the steady rhythm of their thrusts, the feel of their thick cocks stretching you wide, it's all too much. you can hardly breathe, let alone form coherent sentences.

geto grunts under you, his thrusts growing more erratic as he chases his impending release. “fuck. . . i'm gonna—!” he warns breathlessly, reaching down between them to rub at your swollen clit in desperate attempt to push you over the edge right along with him.

gojo moans loudly, his grip on your waist tightening. “so fucking good... you're so damn tight,” he groans, bucking his hips harder into yours. the sensation of your snug heat surrounding his dick is driving him crazy—every stroke is pure ecstasy.

“baby. . . you're so fucking tight around our cocks,” gojo grunts out between pants, nibbling to your shoulder and neck hungrily— he just can't get enough of you, the sight of you wrapped so snugly around them driving him wilder than ever before.

geto's fingers dance over your sensitive clit, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. “oh— i-i, oh god!” you whining on geto'e neck. the added stimulation proves to be the final straw, pushing you over the precipice into oblivion.

your inner walls clench around both cocks as your orgasm rips through you, a high-pitched wail tearing from your throat. wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you, leaving you trembling and helpless in their embrace.

feeling your pussy spasm around them, geto and gojo lose the battle against their own releases. With a guttural roar, geto buries himself deep inside you, his hot seed painting your insides as he comes undone.

at the same exact moment, gojo follows suit, his cock throbbing violently as he empties himself within your welcoming depths. as your orgasm hits full force, you cry out—your voice echoing throughout the room as wave after wave of pleasure courses through your veins. “baby..” you moan.

geto and gojo are both left panting heavily, their bodies slick with sweat as they ride out the aftershocks of their orgasms. each pulse of your pussy milks them for everything they have, drawing out their climaxes further.

as the last tremors fade away, both men collapse onto the couch beside you, spent and satisfied. lucky the couch is big enough for the three of you. geto wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you down onto his chest while gojo presses soft kisses to your forehead.

“you're amazing,“ geto murmurs into your hair, his voice filled with warmth and affection. “and you're ours,” gojo adds with a smirk, giving your ass a playful squeeze.

as the aftershocks of your climax ripple through you. geto's forehead rests against your shoulder while gojo leans heavily against your back. “that was incredible,” geto whispers hoarsely, panting heavily against your skin. he slowly pulls out of you, taking great care not to hurt you despite the sensitivity of your still-quivering walls.

gojo presses a tender kiss against the base of your spine, chuckling softly. “i never get tired of hearing those sounds coming from you,” he admits, nuzzling against you lovingly. despite the intensity of what just happened, they stay close—neither willing nor able to leave your side just yet.

the three of you lie there, limbs tangled and breaths heavy, as the aftereffects of the passion ripple through your bodies. geto holds you close against his chest, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as he tries to regulate his breathing. “god, you feel so damn good,” he mutters in between gasps, his voice still rough.

gojo, as he lies behind you, his body molding seamlessly against your back. he presses a gentle kiss against the base of your spine before nuzzling into your neck, his arms wrapping around you in a tender embrace.

geto’s fingers gently rub soothing circles across your skin, while gojo continues to sprinkle soft kisses across your neck and shoulders. there’s a comfortable silence between the three of you, broken only by the sounds of ragged breaths and beating hearts.

gojo breaks the silence first, his voice low and hoarse. “i never want to let you go,” he murmurs against your skin, his grip on you tightening slightly. “i just want to hold you like this forever.”

still with your eyes closed and your chest going up and down as you are trying to catch a breath, you weakly pushing them away, feeling disgusted how sweaty and sticky your body feels.

“i'm sweaty,” you mumble softly.

they immediately notice your body pushing against them and your voice sounding weak. they look at each other for a second, silently communicating their concern before gojo speaks up. “hey,” he whispers softly, his hand rubbing your arm. “are you okay?”

geto slowly pulls back, his hands moving to your face, gently tilting it towards him so he can look at you. “baby, did we hurt you?” you shake your head before laughing a little, your cheek pressed against the soft material of the couch. “no, that was the best sex i ever had, we should do that again,” you mumble with your eyes still closed.

your body curls up until you thigh touching your chest. “i never knew i could take you two at the same time,” you mumble without opening your eyes. they both let out a sigh of relief when you shake your head, the tension in their bodies slightly easing.

“you scared us for a second there,” gojo admits, his hand gently caressing your arm. “you were shaking so much, we thought we hurt you.” geto adds, his voice soft and tender, “yeah... we just want to make sure you’re okay, princess.”

they watch you curl up, your body still visibly trembling slightly. gojo gently runs his fingers through your hair, his voice low and soothing. “you did so well, baby…” geto, meanwhile, reaches to the armrest of the couch and grabs a blanket, gently draping it over you. “you look tired. does your body hurt anywhere?”

gojo’s fingers continue to caress your hair, his touch gentle and soft. he lets out a small chuckle, “you were shaking so hard... that’s how we know it was good.” geto, meanwhile, adjusts the blanket so it’s securely over your body. “god, you look adorable like that,” gojo can't help but mutters as he give your arm a gentle kiss.

“i feel sore,” you mumble still.

their expressions soften at your admission. “to be expected.” gojo says, caressing your hair gently. “we’ll get some ointment and massage you a bit after you rest a while, okay?” geto nods, his gaze tender as he looks down at you. “we’ll take good care of you, princess. just rest for a bit now.”

you fold your wrist under your chin, your habit whenever you are trying to fall asleep. “i wanna go to sleep,” you speak softly, still refuse to open your eyes. feeling so tired after coming back from a mission and have to go round and round with them after is not something you expect in your agenda for today.

they both laugh softly at your mumbled words, the sight of you trying to stay awake while visibly dead tired being too cute for them to ignore. gojo gently runs his fingers through your hair again, his voice low and soothing. “then go to sleep, baby. we’ll watch over you, don’t worry.” geto moves closer to you, his hand gently caressing your arm. “we’ll be here when you wake up.”

you nodded, “i wanna eat soup,” you added, sounds more like you are talking in your sleep rather than talking to them. they both smile at your sleepy request, gojo letting out a soft chuckle.

“of course, baby.” he whispers, still running his fingers through your hair. “we’ll get you soup once you wake up, i promise.” geto murmurs approvingly, his hand softly rubbing your arm. “you have no idea how cute you sound right now.”

they continue to watch you, their touches gentle and soothing as your body slowly relaxes into sleep.

gojo’s fingers gently running through your hair, his touch soft and comforting. “that’s it, baby. just relax and sleep now… we’ll be here when you wake up.” geto’s hand continues to rub your arm as he watches you slowly slip into sleep, his eyes fond and affectionate. “sweet dreams, princess.”

over the next few minutes, your breathing gradually evens out and your body relaxes completely into a peaceful sleep. gojo and geto remain by your side, their presences reassuring and unwavering. geto readjusts the blanket over you, while gojo moves a strand of hair away from your face. they both sit quietly, watching over you with tender looks in their eyes.

[milkbobatyun]

the dangers of a slipper

pairing: jingyuan x fem!reader

genre: fluff, crack

summary: slippers are a dangerous weapon, even more so when you're the one holding it

word count: 704

a/n: wrote this cus i was inspired by that one meme of the mom scolding the son and the father intervening, but both end up being scolded.

he should’ve known that he was going to be in trouble, the moment he let yanqing run off and go fight in such a dangerous duel. word travelled fast in the xianzhou, so it was no surprise that the moment yanqing and the general stepped into the house, they were in danger.

“yan. qing.” your stern voice calls from the top of the stairs. a shiver of fear runs down the boy’s spine at your tone. sure, he was the strongest swordsman of all of xianzhou, but even so, he was terrified of his mother figure.

hanging his head guiltily, yanqing steps forwards, not daring to make eye contact with you.

from the side, jingyuan watches yanqing get scolded by you, his eyes are filled with mirth and amusement as he relishes in the drama. yanqing, kneeling obediently at your feet, head bowed in shame, shoots pleading looks at jingyuan.

finally, jingyuan decides to step in, trying to save his trusted little aide from your fearful wrath. with a sigh and subtle shake of his head, jingyuan steps into the firing line your line of sight.

“now, now, love,” he began, voice smooth, though his hands were clammy with fear. “yanqing is quite capable. after all, his master is yours truly.” he boasted, puffing his chest out in confidence.

unfortunately for him, he doesn’t win the fight. instead, he finds himself a victim of the deadly slipper, a swift but light bop to his head sening him dropping to his knees, mirroring yanqing’s posture of submission. his joy has been knocked off into one of sheepish submission.

anyone who sees such a scene would find it hilarious. the most powerful swordsman and the dozing general of xianzhou, both quiet and docile as they listen to your scolding. the proud, young swordsman and jingyuan, fearless dozing general, forced into reflection under your watchful gaze and the threat of the merciless slipper.

jingyuan, who finds the courage to lift up his head, assuring you that it wasn’t a big deal. his only response is another ruthless bonk on the head from your slipper. silenced and cowed, he lowers his head again, quietly reflecting on his actions. to yanqing, jingyuan can only offer a meek smile, as his hand rubs the tender spot where your slipper had made its mark.

to add salt to his wounds, even the general’s ever-loyal companion had betrayed his trust. when jingyuan spots his lion overgrown baby, mimi, pass by, he shoots her a pleading look, hoping that she would bravely put herself between her owner and the threatening lady looming over them.

to his hurt and disbelief, mimi spares him a single glance of disinterest, before flicking her tail and plopping down beside your feet with a huff of disapproval, even going as far as shooting him a condescending glare. jingyuan’s shoulders slump, the fight fleeing his posture.

how heartwrenching. 

“mimi,” jingyuan groaned in exasperation. “what have i ever done to wrong you? did your mother give you more treats behind my back again?”

as though to mock him, mimi rubs lovingly against your leg, glee sparkling in her mischievous eyes. the large, white lion lets out a yawn, snuggling closer, as though saying, “you might’ve raised me, but boss lady here is better than you.”

letting out a dramatic gasp, jingyuan feigns a collapse. unfortunately for him, it doesn’t give him extra sympathy points. instead, he receives another repremanding whack from the slipper.

yanqing spares a single side-eye at his general, pity and suppressed amusement dancing across his face. it seemed that even the general was powerless in the face of big boss. with a pout, jingyuan sat back onto his knees, the duo casting looks of mutual pity at each other.

‘boss lady is scary,�� they telepathically communicated, determination etched on their faces. ‘next time, let’s not get caught.’

thwack. thwack.

“i know what the two of you are thinking.” you warned, slipper pointed at their faces. “don’t you dare, i’ll have mimi watch you and keep you out of trouble.”

tomorrow morning, the duo would have to explain why they have matching bumps on their head.

how embarrassing for them. well, maybe they should’ve thought twice before being stupid.

footnotes:

1. the image i was talking about:

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobayun 2024 / づ ♡

[lady-lauren]

❥ SATORU GOJO X SUGURU GETO X NANAMI KENTO X TOJI FUSHIGURO X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 4.7k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: fivesome gangbang, some (okay, um, a lot) of m/m action, ass play, ass fucking, vaginal fucking, double penetration, throat fucking, hair pulling, snowballing (cum + mouth + spitting in another mouth), creampie, excessive cum in all your holes, cum swallowing, spitting (it's Toji, he spits on someone's cock, don't ask questions), praise, use of "good girl", some degradation, they're all nasty fuckers, Toji does show up eventually I promise he's just ~late~

~Happy Halloween~ let's go out with a bang

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

This is not what you signed up for.

Satoru opens your thighs in his lap, long fingers spreading your pussy wide. A smirk kisses the back of your throat as you shiver, flushing so unbearably hot as Suguru’s dark gaze smolders at the sight of your drooling cunt. 

Suguru’s mouth fastens over your pussy and you arch in Satoru’s hold, whining with every wicked flick and suck of his warm tongue. Your arms tangle back around Satoru’s neck, nails scratching down his skin, knotting in snowy hair already melting with sweat. 

“Be a good boy and make her cum, Sugu. I want our girl nice and loose when we fuck her.”

This isn’t—you never imagined this is where you’d end up, in Satoru Gojo’s bed, an electric hum from the frat party below thumping through the walls, pounding the floor. 

When you signed the form to have an upperclassman mentor, you pictured a few lackluster coffee meetups and texts about class schedules. Something more…casual, cursory, trivial. 

Only Satoru Gojo is none of the above.

Day one he sunk his fingers into you, charming and carefree, with a pride only the most popular name on campus can muster. The whole year has been a blur of gentle loopings of his string around you until you trusted him. And you do, especially as his strong fingers press into your rib cage to keep you from squirming away from Suguru’s mouth.

Every walk to class with his arm around your shoulder, every late night text with just a little too much innuendo, every party with his fingers toying just a little close to the edge of your skirt. It’s all been building to this. 

“Told ya I had the best end of year present~,” Satoru sing-songs in your ear. 

Neon lights pulsate purple, long black hair catching and reflecting every strobe as Suguru leans in deeper, muscular shoulders rolling as he presses his nose to your clit. He groans in some sick mixture of pleasure and annoyance at Satoru.

“Whose name is she going to scream out? Yours or mine?” The man between your legs is toying with fire.

“Or mine?” 

Your heart kickstarts in your chest at the new voice ringing in your ears, baritone and slicing through the heady room. 

“Ah, Nanami! Didn’t expect you to respond to the group text.” 

Satoru’s voice is still so playful, like he doesn’t have you open and vulnerable and trembling in his lap. You cling on to him tighter, jumping and gasping as Suguru slides his tongue over your swollen clit. 

“Well,” Nanami looks directly at you, through you, shutting the door behind him, “this year your little pet is especially pretty.”

Being Satoru’s fledgling meant Suguru was always around—you know him, feel only the normal amount of embarrassment as he pushes his tongue into your cunt—but Nanami? He’s barely acknowledged your presence until now.

Nanami shrugs his button-down shirt over his arms, stalking the few paces to where you’re being held open and eaten. He reaches down and digs his strong fingers into Suguru’s hair, holding his slick mouth against your cunt. 

“Ride his face and make a mess of him.” 

Your hips roll before you can even think to stop them, lashes fluttering as you listen and start to grind against Suguru’s face. You can feel his smirk as his arms slip between your thighs and Satoru’s, jerking until you’re sliding farther down damp sheets. 

Suguru locks his arms around your legs, blunt fingernails digging into your thighs. He sucks on your clit until you’re whining and cooing, all the while being shoved deeper into your pussy by the consistent tug from Nanami.

“Atta girl, you like his mouth, yeah?” Satoru pats your cheek. 

“Ah, y-yeah, f-feels so good, fuck.” 

His hot tongue dips deeper in your folds, tip prodding your fluttering hole. He slips in for just a moment, grinning as he teases and pulls back out to smooth the wide flat of his tongue against your clit again.

“Oh Sugu, fuck, please, oh god, in me, put your t-tongue back in me.”

“Are you gonna deny our girl? She’s practically shaking.” 

Satoru lets your head fall to the mattress between his thighs, fisting his cock just above your eye line. The pump of his hand is lewd, already wet from the pre leaking down his slit from watching Suguru eat you out.

Nanami takes one of your tits in hand, fingers mean against your nipple like they are in Suguru’s hair. He rolls the bud between thumb and forefinger, making you gasp and arch into his palm.

“Sensitive,” he grunts. “Did that make her wet, Geto?”

“Oh fuccckk, I…” 

“That’s right, be a good girl.” Suguru’s voice vibrates down your pussy and you’d scream if it weren’t for Nanami’s fingers slipping between your parted lips. He teases them around your tongue, dragging them out so he can use your spit to swirl around your puffy nipple. 

“Oh fuck, oh god, like that, ‘s good,” you writhe on the bed, your legs squeezing around Suguru’s cheeks.

Your eyes blink open and your vision is filled with Satoru’s long cock, pretty and angry and throbbing in the color-changing lights. 

Your body trembles as you come undone, tongue lolling from your mouth like you’re dying to taste Satoru. It’s a fast, painful kind of pleasure, like Suguru sucked it from your core only to swallow it for himself.  

He watches the aftershocks of pleasure racing across your skin like a cat not yet done with his meal, your legs still shivering as you pant and try to catch your breath.

Suguru sits to his knees, shaking Nanami’s hold away with a slight sneer. He’s tempted to wipe his messy mouth with the back of his hand, but thinks better of it when he catches Satoru’s hungry gaze. He leans forward, pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss onto Toru’s lips, letting him taste you. They both groan, Satoru pulling away only to trace his tongue around Suguru’s lips, licking at his ruined cheeks.

“Stop doing that before I get jealous,” you pur from below them, tugging at the long hair that brushes Suguru’s back so he will bring his lips to yours.

“Jealous?” he mumbles into your mouth, “I just had your pussy in my mouth and you already miss me?”

You grasp his messy jaw in your hand, fingers mean, bruising. It’s rougher than he expects.

“Toru said this is my present.”

“Sure is, sweetheart,” your head jerks to where Nanami stands next to the bed, fisting his naked cock, “now let’s get something else inside you, hm?” 

“You know the rules. I get her pussy first.” 

Bodies reposition like this is a dance with familiar steps. Satoru settles below you, smearing his cock through your sloppy folds and grinning when you tremble from how sensitive your clit is already.

“God you’re fucking soaked. Good job, Sugu.”

All three pairs of eyes are too excited to watch as you sink down on Satoru’s cock, pussy lips bulging at the stretch of him. You suck in his dick inch by inch, time turned to slush, head thrown back and lips parting. 

Suguru’s hands are eager, gripping your hips from behind so he can slam you down onto his best friend’s cock.

“Fuck that’s so good, fuck, Toru!” 

Nanami’s hand is suffocating his cock, standing still, patient, watching you get used to the bounce of Satoru’s hips.

Suguru runs his nose up the back of your neck, groaning as he paws at your tits, tweaking both nipples until you hiss. He flicks a nipple quickly with his middle finger, smarting your skin. Then he licks a hot stripe up your throat, the length of his hair falling over your shoulder.

Your head lulls back against his chest, “I th-thought you’d be nice to me, Sugu.” 

“I am the nice one, princess. Just wait.”

You look absolutely stuffed, belly nearly bulging from Satoru’s thick, intrusive cock making a home inside you. 

Nanami brushes his fingers over your face, cupping your cheek to cull your attention away from Suguru.

“So pretty. You’re a good little slut, aren’t you?”

Grabbing his wrist, you move his strong hand on your face closer to your mouth, wet lips closing around his thumb. You suck hard, mischief gleaming in your eyes as you watch his normally stoic mouth open at the feeling. You repeat the action, licking at the digits and moving his fingers in and out of your mouth. You release his fingers when Satoru pushes his cockhead into a particularly soft spot of your walls, making you gasp.

“I’m a very good girl.”

“Oh yeah?” You hear Satoru’s unmistakable, demeaning laugh from below. “Put his cock in your mouth, suck him ‘til he cums.” 

Suguru’s hand splays across your spine and pushes you down, smashing your body to Satoru’s and lining your face with Nanami’s cock. The new angle of Toru’s dick in your guts makes you mewl, hips rolling and begging. 

You shift your weight, balancing one hand on the bed so the other can wrap around Nanami’s cock, silken and hot and pounding in your little palm. Satoru has the perfect view below as you spit onto the cock in your hand, tracing your tongue along the vein lines. 

“Fuck, you’re gonna be messy, aren’t ya?” Icey eyes shine before winking up at you, one of Satoru’s hands wiping away a stray drop of spit on his forehead. 

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Nanami grunts and shoves his fingers into your hair, making you look up the muscular planes of his body to his face, “focus on me.”

You obey, lips sucking at his swollen head before taking the rest of him slowly. Nanami groans as he watches you, ass in the air, cock in your cunt, pretty eyes not leaving his as you slide him to the back of your throat and swallow.

Suguru smears lube onto your ass as you get to work, grinding down into Satoru and sucking Nanami. He thumbs your tight, puckered hole and you moan low and deep around the cock in your mouth. The vibrations tingle down Nanami’s spine and make him jerk your hair, shoving you into the blonde curls at the base of his cock until you gag around his length. 

Satoru swirls his thumb against your clit to make your brain think about him again, about the way he’s thrumming into your hole, stretching you so wide you barely notice when Suguru’s thumb dips into your ass. 

There’s nothing you can do but let them work your body, every part of you pulsing and throbbing with this hot, wormy need to be filled and fucked. 

“Fuck her cunt’s so tight, gonna b-bust,” Satoru moves quicker, making you break the rhythm you’ve built sucking cock. You pull back to breathe, tongue flattening on the underside of Nanami’s dick. 

“So early, Toru,” Suguru tuts, “I’m not even in her ass yet.” Two fingers now scissor into your tight hole as lube drips down to where Satoru’s balls are slapping into your ass cheeks.

Nanami keeps you distracted, roughly shoving his cock back between your lips once you have enough breath in your lungs. You bob your head, keeping him moist and slick between hollowing cheeks. His impressive thickness has saliva dripping down your cheeks and falling into Satoru’s hair.

Suddenly, your clit is pinched between Satoru’s cruel fingers, with no pleasurable intent beyond his own. You scream and the opening has Nanami pushing his cock halfway down your throat. 

“Oh that’s it baby, get tight, milk me, fucking god.” 

“Satoru,” Suguru bites in annoyance, “fucking hold it in until—”

“I can’t, been dreaming of fucking this little cunt. Can’t wait, fucking can’t, she’s too soft and wet and—” 

You’re not sure who cums first, you from the blistering force of Toru’s thumb on your clit, or him from the way your pussy convulses and sucks around his shaft. Not that it matters, you’re both whining. 

Your tongue goes slack against Nanami’s cock as you feel the thump thump of ropes of cum unloading into your hole. Bliss makes you numb, makes you dumb, easier for Nanami to control and for Suguru to play with. 

“Don’t swallow.” Nanami’s groan is the only warning you get. His powerful hips go still, cock pumping, before a grunt precedes the salty burst of his release coating your tongue. 

Of course you listen to him. There’s barely any will left you beyond to fuck and be fucked. 

Only you’re not prepared for Nanami slipping his cock from your mouth and tilting your chin up, making you stare into the rapacity of hazel eyes. 

“Now give it to Satoru.”

Your heart knocks in your chest, heat fissuring down your spine as if you’re worried about getting in trouble. You stare at Nanami with wide eyes, having to forcibly stop yourself from swallowing in shock.

Satoru gives you a lopsided, fucked out grin as you look down to face him, his hand reaching up to brush hair from your face. He kisses you before you overthink it, forcing his tongue into your mouth until spit and cum spill from the edges of your lips. 

You’ve thought about kissing him before. Too many times, really, and never once did you picture it sloppy and tangy with Kento Nanami’s cum swishing from your mouth to Satoru’s. He groans at the taste and you moan as he shifts his hips below you, cock still hard and raging. 

“Well isn’t this just disgusting.”

That voice is new. Taunting. 

You look at the cracked door, your swollen, cum stain lips parting at who fills the gap.

“Fushiguro,” Suguru clicks his tongue against his teeth, “you’re late.”

“Surprised I’m still invited since I broke the last one.”

Toji Fushiguro is nearly a myth, a revenant that you’ve only seen shadows of in the dark corners of parties. Yet here he is, arms crossed across his shirtless chest, a dark gray spot already leaking through his sweats at the sight of you sandwiched between three sweaty men. 

“Are you just gonna stand there and stare?” you ask, unsure where your audacity came from.

The smirk he gives you is sinister, the door slamming as he fists his cock through his pants, “Make room for me.”

Nanami pulls you up and off Satoru’s cock. He keeps your wobbly legs steady as bodies move around you, one of his big hands smoothing down your back as if to reassure you. Not that you need it, the headspace of sex is still engulfing you, like a haze all around the room. 

“I want her ass.” Toji’s knees sink into the mattress. 

“She’s prepped,” Nanami grins, hand reaching down, pawing at your ass, before he slides one of his big fingers into your asshole. You groan at the stretch, a filling pleasure shooting down to your toes. 

Toji snatches you in his arms, his strength allowing him to tug you around like a little rag doll. His mouth seals over yours with a primal groan, settling you into his lap so his cock can twitch against the softness of your belly. You moan and let him have you, calloused hands groping your sore tits.

“Taste good,” he licks against your lips, “pretty little thing, aren’t ya? Toru outdid himself this time.” 

He grabs your hand in his, forcing your fingers to wrap around the width of his cock. He helps you pump the shaft, thick neck tilting back when your thumb presses right under his mushroom head and you squeeze along his veins. 

“Suppose you need another one of these in your pussy too, hm?” 

The thought of being completely filled makes you leak, slick sticking to your thighs. 

Your eyes flicker over your shoulder. Three men are waiting, naked, ready to fill whichever hole you want. 

You reach first for Suguru. 

“Oh, oh, don’t tell me he’s your favorite?” Toji’s laugh rumbles your whole body in his hold. 

“No, I-I mean…” you flush hot.

“He’s just trying to rile you up, baby,” Satoru’s white lashes sweep to where his cum is starting to drip from your hole, “besides, I want your mouth next. I have…payback, in mind.” His gaze cuts to Nanami. 

Five bodies tango around each other far too easily. 

Suguru slips beneath you, Satoru stands before you, while Nanami and Toji make the bed groan and creak under the weight of their knees.

There’s no pause once Toji’s hands latch on to your hips, his fat fingers mean and greedy as he pops the head of his cock into your asshole. You hiss at the full feeling, only for the sound to bleed into a whine as Suguru nudges his cock into your puffy folds, pressing until he breaches the first ring of slicked muscle. 

Your head falls to Suguru’s chest as they both begin to push. 

The spread is delicious and excruciating all at once, so much pressure in your holes as Toji ruthlessly starts thrusting. He’s working his way in, grunting, worming his cock until you’re halfway down his thick shaft. 

“Ahhh, oh, oh, ‘s so much!”

“Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay, pretty baby.” Satoru pets your head as your nails rake down Suguru’s arms. 

“Toru—can’t fuck, too full, oh god, god, god, fuckkkk.”

Suguru notches his cock just a little deeper in your pussy, making you weep. 

“Yeah you can, sweetheart,” Nanami’s talking to you but looking at where you’re being split apart, lip sucking between his teeth. “You can take more. Promise.”

Not that you have a choice. Toji grunts as he thrusts once, twice, finally forcing his way in deep and smacking his hips until he’s flush with the jiggle of your ass. You scream and you’re sure any music playing in the house can’t drown out the sound. 

“Hurry up, Sugu. Or I’ll start fucking her without you.” Toji kneads his knuckles into the fat of your ass, tsking. 

You do it for him. You press down, down, down until you’re sucking Suguru’s raw cock all the way in so you can feel full. 

Your walls feel thin, like you can feel the outline of both dicks as they start to move together. Slow, at first, since you whine and coo and reach up and grab Satoru’s thighs like you’re afraid you’re going to topple over from their power. Then the pace really starts, a cacophony of skin on skin and grunts that have your eyes rolling into the back of your head. 

Your guts are a mess as you finally pick your head up and look at Satoru, tears and mascara streaming down your face as your silly brain tries to make sense of the all-encompassing ecstasy of being so full and used. 

“God damn you’re perfect, aren’t ya?” Satoru weaves his fingers in your hair, soft and sweet, guiding your mouth to his cock. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, hiccuping every time the cocks inside you slam up and in sync. 

Satoru smears his cock over your awaiting tongue, popping the head into the softness of your cheek before pulling out and rubbing the leaking slit over your tastebuds. 

“Mhmmm gonna keep you as a little pet, okay? I’ll let you have any dick you want, whenever you want it. Sound good?” 

You nod, finally feeling stable enough to reach back and wiggle your fingers for Nanami. 

Nanami slots his cock into your palm, groaning as your fingers fasten around him and begin to pump along his length.

“Need some help with that?” Toji’s scarred lip pulls into a smirk before a suck, swish sounds in his mouth. He spits over Nanami’s cock, the wet glob sinking between your fingers as you tug and pull his heated shaft.

“Nasty fucker.” You hear Nanami mumble under his breath.

“Oh yeah?” Suguru snaps out his pussydrunk haze beneath you, one of his hands leaving your thigh so he can curl his fingers over yours on Nanami’s cock and help jerk him off. “Toru can still taste your cum in the back of his mouth.”

Satoru gives you a wink and one last chance to breathe before he pushes his cock between your lips. You moan around him, finally, completely, entirely fucking full. 

Every hole is stretched, your body aches, pleasure bubbling under every inch of your overheated skin like you’ll erupt at any moment. 

You barely know who you are, can barely think beyond the carnal craving of being full and filled and used. Your hips roll back to match the sinful pace set by Suguru and Toji, your head and hand move in rhythm together as you work for Satoru and Nanami.

Toji fists one hand in your hair, pulling you back and bouncing you against their cocks. Your eyes snap up as Satoru follows the shift of your body, settling his knees over Suguru’s face so he can keep fucking into your hot mouth. You hear Suguru groan as the thick threads of his hair get tangled beneath Satoru’s weight—though it doesn’t sound like he minds it.

“What a fuckin’ slut,” Toji sneers and latches his other hand around your neck from behind. “Push deeper, Toru, wanna feel your cock in her throat.” 

Satoru cants his hips forward and you open your mouth the best you can, still gagging as the length of him pounds into the back of your throat. Squeezing his thick fingers around the sides of your neck, Toji pets his thumb down the center column of your throat. He can see and feel the dick inside your neck. 

Drool soaks your cheeks, bubbling around the tight suck of your lips. You hollow your cheeks and press your tongue to the veiny underside of Toru’s cock and let him use you.

Suguru’s cursing, cock plunging into the wet squish of your pussy with every groan. He squeezes his fingers over yours around Nanami’s cock, both of you moaning at the increase of pressure. Then he dips his hand lower, fingers sinking around heavy balls as you twist your wrist and tug, thumbing the Nanami’s sensitive ridge.

“Shit fuck, fuck you both.” Nanami grumbles, knees faltering until he has to brace himself on one arm on the mattress.

“Kento,” Toji grits his teeth, panting now from how hard he’s thrusting into your abused, tight hole, “cum on her ass. Gonna, ah, need more lube.”

Nanami swats your hand away, moving out of your eyesight to kneel behind you. You hear the deep baritone of his groan before you feel his hot cum pool and drip down your ass. 

“That’s it, yeah.” Toji’s fingers smear in the mess Nanami made, coating the base and middle length of his cock with cum as he pulls out, only to push the gooey mess back into your hole. 

Nanami collapses on his back, lungs expanding as he watches your breasts bounce from below.

“Ah, ah, god, ah,” you don’t know how long you’ve been babbling around Toru’s cock for—probably this whole time, a garbled, drooling mess of lewd sounds. 

“Fuck, keep, ah, shit, keep fucking her just like that, her throat’s gettin’ tight.” 

Suguru takes the initiative to swipe his thumb over your sensitive clit. Your nerves buzz instantly, making your cunt convulse and suck. You’re close, so overstimulated you’re not sure if any of your senses actually work anymore. Your vision is blurred, your hearing just a thump of music and skin and groans, your fingers numb as you grip both hands into Satoru’s thighs, and all you can taste and smell is his salty cock twitching on your tongue and thumping into your hot mouth. 

Your sanity is only held together by the push and pull of the cocks inside you. You can feel how both Suguru and Toji’s cockheads bully past one another, curving and dipping just perfectly into spongey, soft spots you didn’t know existed in your body. Your gummy walls are swelling, straining around the double penetration.

“Fuuckkk, make her cum, Sugu. I bet this little ass will get so god damn tight and strangle my fucking cock. Fuckin’ do it.”

The way you try to say please around Satoru’s dick in your mouth makes him laugh, a little maniacal sound that makes you burn with need. You jolt your hips forward as much as you can, pressing into the thumb that starts flicking like lightning across your clit. 

“Shit, she’s already m-making a mess,” Suguru lets out a groan that rumbles your body, sinks into your bones and makes you tremble. Slick is so wet and hot between your legs, making both your holes sloppy as cocks search for bliss inside your tight suction. 

Satoru suddenly cums down your throat and you’re suffocating, spurting and gagging as he forces you to swallow a few spurts before he jerks his cock from your lips. He fists himself until pearly strings shoot across Nanami’s chest. 

“Filthy,” Nanami drags his finger through the cum on his skin, gathering enough to flick toward your tits, “all of you.”

You’re gasping like you’ve been beached, falling down onto Suguru and burying your face in his shoulder.

Finally you reach the peak, the point of no return, your whole body spasming as you cum. 

You scream and bite into skin, every single nerve ending in your body exploding and firing with ecstasy and intensity. It hurts, your cunt clenching and pulling and sucking around two throbbing cocks. Your body squeezes them together, walls stretched so thin that you can feel their veins pumping like heartbeats searing your insides. You’re so stuffed, plugged, fuller than you fear you ever will be again.

The choked sounds from Suguru and Toji are divine, four hands gripping and bruising your body to keep you still so they can fill your holes until cum bursts from your seams. 

Suguru’s hand cups the back of your head, both to soothe and pry your canines from his flesh. 

“Atta girl, atta girl, so good, you’re okay.”

“More than okay,” Toji wolf-whistles, smacking his hand across your ass to hear you yelp, “your little body is fuckin’ spectacular.”

He takes his time sliding out of your ass, more for him than you, you’re sure, so he can savor the last drags of your swollen walls around his shaft.

The empty feeling of your open ass makes you whine, but still you lift your head, sitting back on your heels, moaning as you shift on Sugu’s cock. You watch Toji step back into his gray sweats, grinning as he snaps the elastic band low on his toned stomach. 

“Well, well, guess this one didn’t get broken.” He slaps Satoru’s shoulder as he throws open the bedroom door and leaves with, “She might even be up for round two.”

Satoru rolls his eyes, slinking deeper into the desk chair he’s occupying, spent cock resting between his thighs. 

“You okay?” Two voices say in unison, Nanami and Satoru. Suguru has his arm across his eyes, dark hair like ink spilling over the sheets.

“Mhhhmm,” you nod, the afterglow rolling over your skin as you manage to pull yourself off the last remaining cock plugging your body. You collapse next to Nanami, face down in pillows that have been shoved to the back of the bed. 

The group of them start talking, but your ears are ringing, thumping with your blood and the still raging music below the floorboards. 

“Baby.” Satoru runs his fingers down your back, shaking your ass to get your attention. You groan as you feel cum spill from both holes from the movement. 

“You should treat your playthings better, Gojo.” Nanami pats your head and out of the corner of your eye you see him almost smile. 

“Oh yeah? You think you can do a better job? She loves me, don’t you baby?” 

You nod your heavy head, one of your feet kicking up playfully.

“Give her to me for a week and we’ll see if she comes crawling back to you.”

“You can have her anytime she wants,” you hear Suguru grunt from what sounds like a hefty pat on his chest from Satoru, “any of you. She’ll be our pet.”

[shrimpybbq]

Gwayne Hightower corrupting his sweet Targaryen niece!

His young niece is sent to Oldtown with her younger brother Daeron, much to Gwayne’s delight.

Though she’s a Targaryen, she looks so much like her mother and Gwayne is simply infatuated with her. His niece was Helaena’s twin, the girl much more lucid and rooted in the earth than her sister.

Gwayne who takes her under his wing, allowing the pair to form a strong bond as she learns more about Oldtown and the history of the Hightower’s.

Gwayne watches as his sweet niece seems to grow even more beautiful as she’s older. He notices the attention she draws and the leering gazes men level at her. It makes something in his chest burn.

His niece was expected to return to Kings Landing when she became of age, and yet the time has passed and her mother and father have not sent for her yet. Gwayne comforts his sweet niece though he’s secretly happy and enjoying her presence remaining longer.

Gwayne finds it more and more difficult to resist his niece as she clings to him more in her sadness, his body growing warm at the idea of taking her for himself. He reasons with himself: if her mother married her other daughter to her full-blooded brother then surely an uncle is a less egregious pairing. Gwayne’s been influenced too much by the Targaryen views at this point.

Gwayne seizes the opportunity to corrupt his niece once and for all when she cries desperately in her arms. She’s sobbing about how no man will ever want her as a wife if she never returns to the capital, how her family do not love her, how her mother sent away.

He’s taking her teary face in his hands softly, brushing her hair back from her face as he looks into her wide eyes. The heavy kiss he places on her lips has her momentarily shocked before she tentatively responds. Gwayne’s slowly guiding her lips in the way he likes, revelling in the feeling as her fingers begin threading through his hair.

Gwayne doesn’t fuck her straight away, no, he waits and waits until his niece is so dependant on him, hanging off his every word. She’s visiting the sept with him each day, dining with him and letting him kiss her as much as he wants.

But once he does, there is no one in the world that he would let take her away from him. He would show Otto the bloodied sheets from their coupling and watch his face fall in horror, disgusted at the sullying of a proper Targaryen princess. Otto didn’t think he had it in him, not to do something so vile.

Gwayne gets his way and soon his pretty little niece is standing in front of him in the Sept at Oldtown, exchanging vows with him.

Alicent is beside herself. Her sweet daughter corrupted and defiled by her own uncle, someone she trusted her with.

Gwayne and his new wife are the picture of marital bliss, always giggling and mumbling to each other. The maids in the keep at Oldtown are always giggling as they walk past their chambers; the gasps and groans escaping enough to make a grown man blush.

Gwayne fucks his wife good. I said it. He’s a munch too and 100% makes his wife cum at least once before getting into the main action. He’s got his niece wrapped around his finger and anytime he wants her, he has her.

It’s no surprise when the Red Keep receives a raven announcing the pregnancy of the Targaryen princess, a babe expected no more than 9 months after their wedding (they got down to business right away!).

(Aegon’s giggling at the rage colouring his mothers expression. He loves seeing her so unsettled and makes a note to tease her AS MUCH as possible.)

[luveline]

Something for hotch? Maybe where reader gets hurt/a concussion on a case and goes to the hospital but refuses to tell him she went until someone else mentions it?? <3 you dont have to do it if you have something similar but i love your writing!

ty for requesting!! <3 —Hotch will look after you, even when you don’t tell him you need him. fem, 1.7k

cw reader has a concussion

Hotch rubs his face when he knows nobody’s watching. Hand over his eyes, thumb and forefinger working against a brewing migraine. It eases a little of the tension there, but he can’t do it like you can. There’s something in your hands that makes him want to call them lovely hands, such a quaint word. You rub the space between his brows with your thumb until his aching is gone or replaced. Fondness with its own heartbeat wakes whenever you’re near. 

You’re not near. His head hurts. He wants a cup of coffee and a shower and to call Jack. The cases are never over when they’re over, is the thing, and he can’t keep track of everything. He has to answer questions and patch holes now, before the work follows him home to take up space on his desk. 

He talks to police officers, chiefs, victims families and firemen and Penelope, too, anybody who needs to ask him a question. He tells Emily to go back to the hotel because she’s exhausted, and warns Spencer that staying too long will give him another headache. He’s surprised half an hour later when Morgan grabs him by the arm. Hotch assumed he went with Spencer. 

“Hotch, what are you still doing here?” 

Hotch gives him a strange look. It’s not as though Morgan hasn’t seen Hotch clean up a mess before. “Sorry?” 

“I thought you’d be with Y/N.” 

He tries very hard to look casual. The team are often better at pretending they haven’t noticed you and Hotch slowly moving together. “She went home.” 

“No she didn’t, they took her in an ambulance. She’s at the hospital, nobody told you that?” 

Hotch knows Morgan can finish up for him. He doesn’t even say where he’s going or what there is left to do, Morgan is more than capable of handling the unit, and he’s a phone call away. Hotch rushes for an agent with a car and tells them where he needs to go as he punches your speed dial into his phone. Number three, after Penelope and Jess. 

You don’t answer, it makes him feel sick. He calls again and JJ picks up. Blessed, amazing JJ. 

“Hi Hotch.” 

“Is she there? Can I speak to her?” 

“She went in for an MRI a half hour ago.”

“JJ, what happened? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” 

“She said she told you.” A dry laugh from down the phone. “You’d think I’d learn not to trust her. I love her, but she’s a liar.” 

Hotch could say the same thing. “JJ, what happened? What’s wrong with her?” 

“I think she’s embarrassed. When everybody was coming back out, someone stepped on the back of her leg and she slipped down the stairs.” 

“Who stepped on her?” Hotch asks. 

JJ laughs. Hotch wonders if they’re too far into working together to scold her for unprofessionalism, but then he remembers the Unit would fall apart without her and holds his tongue. He’d fall apart without you, maybe, and he could stand to be a little more defensive. 

He’s out of the car and into the hospital in record time. He follows the signs to the Emergency Room, gives your name at the desk, and doesn’t have to flash his badge to get told what room they’ve put you in. He would’ve, and he would’ve threatened legal action. He’s no saint. He’ll abuse the system (in innocuous ways only, of course) if it means he gets to see you. 

You’re in a bed but sitting on the side of it rather than laying down. JJ sits in the chair beside you, two contrasting expressions on your faces. You’re smiling. JJ bites her lip. 

She turns to Hotch with relief. “Hey, look,” she says gently. 

“You took a long time to get here. Was it the moon?” 

Hotch understands quite quickly. “Sorry. Nobody told me you got hurt. What happened to the moon, honey?” 

You give him a vacant look. Turning back to JJ, your hands vying for her arm, you hold her to your stomach gently and squeeze your eyes closed. “The light.” 

Hotch turns to the wall, looking for the light switch. It’s hidden behind other concerning tech, so he’s careful about what he presses. You sigh and draw his attention, wiggling back on the bed to almost fall off the other side. 

“Maybe she thought she told me,” he suggests, not scolding JJ, but unhappy nonetheless. You clearly aren’t in a state to make decisions for yourself. 

JJ rubs your arm. “She got worse after we got here. That’s why they sent for her MRI so quickly. She’s on and off with it, incoherent and normal again.”   

Hotch knows she’s concerned for you, but he can read her restless leg; she hasn’t talked to Will or heard about Henry in hours. “Go back to the hotel, JJ. I have her.” 

JJ gives you a hug, to your confusion, and bypasses him fast. He can hear her phone ringing before the doors shut from her departure. 

He admires her loyalty, he just wishes she’d called him two hours ago. 

You rub your eyes, the loose sleeves of your hospital gown shifting against the loose knot behind your neck, and he genuinely despises the idea that you’d been here, hurt, without him. “Can I tie your gown again?” he asks. 

You nod into your rubbing. 

“I turned the lights off. It shouldn’t be so bright in here anymore.” He rounds the bed to your back, where a great deal of skin is showing. He smiles though he shouldn’t. You poor girl. “You’re a little… stark.” 

“I’m trying to think of some fruit and milk,” you tell him. 

“Do you need help?” 

“Not for the fruit.” 

“But for the milk,” he surmises, bringing the ties of your gown as close as he can without strangling you and tying them in a neat bow. 

“I don’t think that’s what I meant to say.” 

He puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb to bare skin. “That’s okay, honey, you’re having a little trouble now, but it’ll go away soon. If there were something wrong, the doctor would be here.” 

“You could be a doctor.” 

“I couldn’t. I don’t know anything about medicine.” 

“A very nice doctor. Big hands.” You breathe out loudly, more animated than he’s ever heard you. “Whoo, I’m cold. I think they made me naked.” 

“How about I tuck you in, would you like that?” he asks, leaning over you in hopes of you turning your head. 

You stare up at him. “You want to?” 

“I’d love to. I want you to be comfortable.” 

“My boyfriend might not like it.” 

Hotch tries not to sulk at another horrible symptom. You aren’t only incoherent, but amnesiac. And you’ve forgotten who he is, in a way. At least you’ve remembered you have a boyfriend. He hopes it’s him. 

“No? Why wouldn’t he like it, honey? I’m just trying to take care of you.” 

You visibly fluster. “You’re calling me honey like he does, and he won’t like it ‘cos he takes care of me. He loves to go to places but he doesn’t know where he’s going.” 

That second half is gibberish, he’s sure. Hotch puts his hands carefully under your armpits and manoeuvres you back toward the top of the elevated hospital bed.

You put your hand to your tummy as you lean back, and hiss as your head touches the pillows. “Ow.” 

“Sorry,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t tell Aaron I got hurt.” 

“Why not?” 

“I fell down the stairs. He’s never fallen down the stairs.” 

“I have, actually. Twice. And it doesn’t matter how you get hurt, I want to know you’re alright, so I need you to tell me.” 

He pulls the sheets up to your legs and over your lap. Tucks them tightly behind your back, hands lingering on your hips. He watches you look at him, your cloudy gaze tracking over his eyes, his nose, and his lips. “Aaron?” you ask eventually, lifting your chin. 

“Yes?” 

You breathe out an unmissable sigh of relief. “You didn’t come with me.” 

“I didn’t know you were hurt.” He squeezes your hip softly. “You didn’t tell me. But it’s not your fault, is it? You got hurt.” His voice falls into silk. “Is that warm enough?” 

“I’m glad you’re here. I need you to get my shoes.” 

“No shoes. Can I have a hug?” 

“Why?” 

“Just to hug you,” he says softly. “It might make you feel better.” 

You raise your hands clumsily like your fingers are full of sand, forcing him to see his arms under them and behind your back. Your cheeks align, his rough with stubble, yours warm with the heat of a flush, perhaps from the injury. Your hands flop down onto his back as he rubs two separate, loving paths on the gown and your skin. 

Thank god she’s okay, he thinks. 

“Am I stuck like this?” you ask. 

“Are you worried?” He taps your back. “I doubt it. We might have to stay here for a while, but it’s okay. Feeling better is the priority.” 

“I’d like to go back.” 

“Home?” 

“For breakfast.” 

“Are you hungry? I can find you something to eat.” 

“What?” you ask. 

You sound so genuinely confused that Hotch laughs into your shoulder, before giving the fabric a soft kiss. “It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna bring that chair over and sit with you, okay? We’ll wait for the doctor together.” 

He sits with you for hours, talks to doctors and nurses alike as they come to check your vitals and explain your scans. Your confusion doesn’t lessen until the night time, and even then you act oddly, bringing his hand to your mouth to kiss strange parts of his fingers. The skin shy of his nail. The underside of a knuckle, the curve under the meat of his thumb. 

[affableramen]

Big spoon | Small spoon | Genshin Impact men | Wriothesley | Capitano | Neuvillette | Alhaitham | Dottore | Pantalone

Big spoon: Wriothesley, Capitano, Dottore

Little spoon: Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Pantalone

Wriothesley, Dottore and Capitano contain spicy parts.

Wriothesley

Big spoon. This man is anything but submissive. He is the one to start touching you at the intimate moment.

Wriothesley loves a good amount of physical touch. Be it a cold autumn evening or snowy winter night he’d very much like to have you pressed close. His muscular chest is so hot, it almost burns your skin, and you find yourself craving still more of his warmth.

You like the smell of bitter coffee mixed with leather coming from him. The rough, but passionate touches of his calloused from the fights hands.

Wriothesley has a habit of sleeping naked, and every inch of his hot burning skin is felt by you.

“Come here”, the duke doesn’t ask, he orders. You climb into the sheet and pull the blanket while staring at him expectantly. “Turn around.” When exposing your back to him, you feel hot breath blow against your hair. “You smell delicious.” He is not a beast, he doesn’t want you scared, so Wriothesley gently, gingerly snakes his hands around your waist and pulls you flush against his chest.

“You like that?”

“You certainly are very warm, my duke”, you respond playfully.

“Then we should cuddle more often.”

Capitano

Capitano is a big (in all ways) man, with big hands that are surprisingly very gentle to the touch. It is his bed routine to climb into the sheets and hold you close until the both of you drift away to sleep. His long obsidian hair tickles the sensitive skin of your back.

If Pantalone is a tsundere, trust me this man is even more tsundere. Cap is strict, reserved and collected, and it is usually an accident, a word slipped from his mouth that you hear a compliment. He is more a man of action. You know that he needs you because of his body language. He is very perceptive, he is wary of the world around him, and he is very good at physical touch. And that being said, the cuddles Capitano gives you are just perfect. They are full of heat, passion and affection, of course.

He has a habit of sleeping naked, so you are aware of every part of his body touching you even if this was not his intention in the slightest.

“Hmph…” he grunts. “Don’t move too much.”

You giggle to yourself, knowing damn well that he is already flustered. And you are flustered too.

Neuvillette

Monsieur Neuvillette is a solitary and private person. It’s rare that he gives out affection. But with you, he is ready to put some efforts into a sustainable relationship. However he is a small spoon. He is too shy, too reserved and too introverted to hug you first. And let’s be honest - he is quite used to you being the one who initiates activities.

The morning and night cuddles are very important for monsieur Neuvillette. He might even think that something is wrong between you if you do not snake your arms around him in the bed. He is very aware of your moods and reaction, and he memorises things about you quite often.

Being a little spoon Neuvillette likes the feeling of your proximity. The hands that wrap around his waist, given the height difference between you. He likes sensing your breath on him through the fabric of nightwear. You touch him incredibly gently and he responds with equal gingerly stroke over your fingers.

“It feels nice”, he says quietly, embarrassed admitting. “Would you have objections to falling asleep like this every night?”

He is very soft.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is a small spoon. But not because of submissiveness, rather of his cold, detached nature. He was grown by his grandmother and grew up surrounded by books. He knows nothing of good doze of affection. And you were the one who taught him that.

Alhaitham is not touchy-feely, he prefers his inner world and intuition above everything else. That being said, he will pull you into deep physiological conversations quite often. But you are the one who makes him grounded. You bring him back into the reality with your soft hands.

As the two of you lie in bed before sleep, you spot him reading his book as usual. You gently remove the book from his fingers, getting a surprising reaction on his face.

“Oh?”

“Let’s cuddle”, you do not let him finish the sentence. “I’m feeling lonely tonight, while you are one muscular man in my bed.”

“Don’t beat around the bush. What do you want?” He asks, his tone not rough, but irritated.

You slowly snake your arms around him, and Alhaitham lets a quiet huff of satisfaction.

“Don’t need to be so gentle, I’m not a porcelain doll. Hug me tighter.” Unlike his usual attitude, he asks you.

You do just as he says, your chest flush to his back as you wrap your hands around his chest, and your legs around his hips.

“This is not better than the book I rejected, but pleasant still.”

You playfully push him.

“Don’t ruin the moment.”

“Fine, fine. Just tonight, I’ll be yours.”

Dottore

Big spoon. When is in love, he is a yandere. He will pull you to his chest as tight as possible and will not let you go. He will make sure you are his. Dottore will bite your ear, sucking the wounded area gently as his hands roam over your shoulders, stomach and hips. This man is entirely touch-starved and with you he wants to compensate the pleasures he denied himself in due to his tough scholar responsibilities.

The faint scent of mint is coming from him. You love it when he is close. He always smells refreshing. Though Dottore is not one to be soft with words, and his declarations of love are often blunt, the softness in his night touch when the both of you prepare to sleep, tells a different story. You love the subtly feeling of him being vulnerable when you’re in private.

“What, are you cold?” Dottore asks half-mockingly, noticing your goosebumps.

“It’s getting freezing in the evening.”

“Is this body alone not enough to heat you?” He whispers into your ear and then, what seems to be gently, takes your hand in his.

“My, you are freezing indeed. My apologies.”

Dottore grabs the edge of the duvet and pulls it up, the biggest part of it on your body.

It’s incredibly difficult for him to conduct his emotions properly, and you understand it perfectly. You do not ask for more. He genuinely wants you in comfort, otherwise his indifferent nature wouldn’t even bother.

Pantalone

This old man is a little spoon. You should never expect open attraction from him, especially the physical touch. He won’t reach out to press you close to his chest. No, no, no… He is both lazy and cold for it. A banker that is nearing menopause is expected to be nothing but an incredibly aloof and grumpy bastard. Even to his lover, his heart will melt only after considerable amount of time, that is if you’re lucky enough.

However, when he finally gives in, pushes away all his righteousness and indifference, he becomes a very soft old man. As the two of you lie in the bed prepared for sleep, he suddenly breaks the tranquil silence with his velvety, sultry voice.

“Hug me.” You find yourself dumbfounded. “I said, hug me”, Pantalone repeats. “Please”, he says quieter. You wrap your hands around his waist gently, listening to his calm, gentle breath. Judging by the movement of his body and a pleased sigh coming from his lips, he enjoys such intimate proximity with you immensely. He pulls the fuzzy blanket over the both of you, so afraid that his cold fingers might disturb you.

“Didn’t know you were the little spoon”, you say, happy with how things are. Pantalone responds with a grunt, obviously irritated or, perhaps embarrassed?

“No… Just sleep already.”

This is such a tsundere thing of him to say.

Yes, Pantalone’s definitely a small spoon.

[togeblurbs]

Do You Miss Us?

Five Hargreeves x F!Reader - angst with a happy ending (yeah… happy ish ending)

synopsis: when you find out Five and Lila kissed, you don’t know what to feel. All you know is that you need to get away. Because it was one thing for them to kiss, and another to realize that in the time spent apart, Five Hargreeves may not love you anymore.

content/warnings: hints of anxiety, curse words, cheating, s4 spoilers, mentions of disassociation, morally grey characters, not lore accurate, not really canon, doesn’t focus on the plot moreso reader & fives relationship, lmk if i forgot anything

“Y/n, please,”

you continue walking, wiping away the incessant tears that stream down your face. you feel nauseas, and your chest hurts in a way that it pains you to breathe.

he catches your wrist in his hand, and you turn around, angered. “What? What could you possibly say that would make this better, Five?”

he looks distraught, if not more than you and the thought has your hands shaking in fury. for what reason did he have to be so upset? you weren’t the one who disappeared for a few hours - which ended up being seven years - and then kissed another person.

“I fucked up, I didn’t… You don’t understand, I was losing my mind.” he slips his hand from your wrist to intertwine your fingers, but you shake his grip off in disgust. he looks at you so brokenly at the action, you almost feel bad.

but then you remember her, and you feel the bile rise to your throat once more. “I don’t understand?” you say slowly, taking a step forward.

you point at him, “I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand. I knew some shit was going on between you two, with your secrets and odd glances. But I trusted you, Five. You know why?”

he looks at you with wide eyes, seeming almost unsettled by your outburst. “Because I loved you.” you whisper.

you huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you wipe the remnants of your tears. “But that didn’t matter in the end. You were alone with her for seven years, so it makes sense. I wish you nothing but happiness, Five. Even if it’s away from me.”

you turn, moving to walk again, but he crashes into you from behind and wraps his arms around you. “Please,” his hands are trembling where they rest on your stomach, and although you want to soothe him, you don’t think you are in the place to at the moment.

you take a shaky deep breath, before carefully untangling his hands from your torso. he whimpers pitifully at the action, and you have to stop yourself from giving in and drawing him closer.

you used to bring him comfort, give him love and make him feel safe; but it seemed it was not enough; because in the end he chose someone else.

you turn back around, “I need some time alone right now, Five.” you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, ripping the skin. you don’t want to look at his face, so you choose to stare at the chipped paint on the wall.

Five lifts his hand for a moment, before dropping it. “Will you come back?” his voice has never sounded so childlike; as though he can’t bear the thought of you leaving and never coming back.

you swallow harshly, “I’ll come back.”

he nods, his own arms wrapping around himself.

“I just don’t know if it will be for you.”

you take a chance and glance at his face, hating the way your heart hurts when his expression crumples.

back in the room, you were so sure he was in love with Lila, but now you’re starting to doubt yourself. because if he truly felt something for her, would he really be crying in front of you right now?

you don’t know. you also don’t feel like you have it in you to make any assumptions.

you turn around, your back facing Five. “I’ll see you later. Don’t follow me.”

and with that, you walk out of Five’s life, unknowingly carrying his heart with you.

-

Five lays in a bed - not his, for years it’s never been his - and recounts the last seven years.

he remembers missing you immensely in the beginning. for the first three years, you were all he could think about.

and then his friendship with Lila began to grow. the time he wished to spend with you, he was now spending with her. it was odd at first, because the two were not close friends of any sort. but when you’re trapped in a different time-line, or different universe, you become allies with those you normally wouldn’t.

somewhere along the way, they had provided one another with the comfort they lacked from their significant others.

it wasn’t supposed to end up that way. it wasn’t.

but now Five can’t get the way you looked at him out of his head; it was like he physically shot you in the chest, or told you he didn’t love you. like he betrayed you.

he grasps at his own chest, curling up into a ball beneath the covers. he feels like he’s going to die.

and maybe that would be for the best. he’s lived a long, torturous life. with a nut-job for a father, siblings that were always thinking about themselves and a lover who he’d ruined everything with, what was the point of life anymore?

its been a month since Five had seen you, and the ache in his chest has yet to go away. he couldn’t find it in himself to eat, often laying in bed as Luther force-fed food down his throat in fear that he would truly pass away.

it’s just another late night, and Five takes the time to stare at the broken glass window as the sun begins to set. the only sound in the room comes from the clock, the constant ticks helping him disassociate and think about you.

he distantly hears the door creak open, but is too exhausted to look at who it is. he doesn’t really care anyway, because he knows it’s not going to be you.

“Five?”

he blinks slowly. it almost sounded like you, but he figured he was hearing things at this point.

“Five,” he feels a hand smooth over his shoulder. gentle in a way he’d only ever experienced with you. his head turns, if only slightly, and he catches sight of your concerned face.

his eyes widen, he forces himself to sit up even if his arms have little to no strength left. “What are you… what are you doing here?” he croaks.

you sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. it’s far too away from Five, he wants to pull you in the bed and bring you into his arms.

“Should I leave?” you glance at the door for a second, but Five immediately grabs onto your hands and shouts, “No! No, please. Please stay.”

you look shocked at his outburst, nodding softly.

the silence in the room is deafening, but Five is merely happy you’re there. Seven years and then some apart from you was not easy, and after his last conversation with you, he knows he’ll feel unsettled until he makes it right. if he can make it right.

“I did some thinking.” you start, cautious.

Five watches you with fear, scared to hear your next words.

“I’m not angry anymore. I understand you went through a lot being trapped again, and I can’t blame you for falling in love with Lila since she was there for you. I do wish you broke it off with me before kissing her, but what’s done is done.”

your voice comes out stable, like you’ve thought it all through and are content to leave things as they are. but Five is shaking his head the moment you say the word love and Lila in the same sentence, because that could not be more far from the truth.

“Wait, please stop it,” he begs, seeming desperate.

“I understand why you might think that way, but I do not love Lila.” he feels lighter with the words being spoken. he’s been aching to clarify this the moment you found out they kissed, but hasn’t had the chance.

your brows furrow, and you pick at the cotton sleeve of your hoodie. “Um, I see.” you look so confused, he can’t help but move closer to you.

you look at him, body rigid. you don’t seem comfortable around him anymore, and the thought has him clutching his chest in pain.

“Y/n, I love you.”

you recoil immediately, and it prompts Five to reach out instinctively.

the words tumble out of his mouth, like he’s scared you’re going to run before he can finish getting everything out. “I haven’t stopped loving you, Lila and I.. when we, you know, it was a moment of weakness after losing you and being trapped again. I wished every day that I could see you, but I was stuck.”

you move to stand, and a part of Five’s heart breaks for what he thinks will be the last time ever. because if you walk out of this room, he knows he won’t be able to love again. you are it for him, and if he doesn’t have you, then he’d rather stay alone for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry, I truly am. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, but I need you to know that I love you.”

at the end of his little speech he breathes out, listening to his heart thump loudly in his ears.

it’s odd, he thinks. love has always been so painful, so destructive. but with you it was simple. it was calm, steady and soft. he wonders; he hopes, that he’ll be able to experience it again. after all, a healthy type of love was rare for his kind.

he watches you walk closer, reaching a hand out and placing it on his cheek. he leans into it, closing his eyes as he missed your touch immensely. you use the other hand to push his hair back, planting a kiss on his forehead.

his eyes shoot open at the feeling, and he stares at you in wonder. he begins to feel hope bubble in his chest.

“You love me?” you ask quietly.

he nods, “Only you. Only ever you.”

you exhale, shoulders drooping as you move to sit beside him. you wrap an arm around his waist and one on his neck, pulling him down as you lay on the small bed. his head falls to your neck, and he sneaks a small kiss in, hoping you won’t push him away.

“I can’t promise that i’ll forgive you completely. At least not right now. And I’ll probably hate Lila forever, but I don’t think I can walk away from you knowing you love me.”

you run a hand through his hair, feeling him nod into the space between your head and your shoulder. “I know, I completely understand.”

you pat his head gently, staring up at the ceiling.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t think I ever won’t.”

he rubs his face into your neck, and you feel something wet touch it. you card your fingers through his hair once more, cooing.

“Thank you,” his voice comes out shaky, but he hopes you hear the sincerity.

you shift the two of you until you’re underneath the covers, cradling him in your arms with his head on your chest. “Don’t thank me yet. I will be making out with Diego as revenge.”

Five lifts his head, “What?!”

sorry if this is ooc:>

[hjpsdiary]

slytherin boy's headcons (them as ur bf <3)

theodore nott as your boyfriend :

• he’s the definition of quiet but observant; he notices every little thing about you, from your favorite snacks to how you fidget when nervous.

• doesn’t talk much, but when he does, it’s meaningful—his compliments feel rare and precious.

• surprisingly affectionate in private; he’ll always find excuses to brush his fingers against yours or pull you close when no one’s looking.

• reads a lot and will casually leave books he thinks you’d like in your bag or on your desk.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it—he’ll silently step in when someone’s bothering you or shoot a glare that makes them back off immediately.

• has a sarcastic sense of humor that comes out more as he gets comfortable with you; you’re one of the few people who ever see him smile.

• remembers everything you say, even the small things, and will surprise you by acting on it weeks later.

• not big on grand romantic gestures but makes up for it with small, thoughtful actions, like brewing your favorite tea or saving you a seat in class.

• loves stargazing; it’s one of the rare times he really opens up, sharing his thoughts and dreams while lying next to you under the stars.

• isn’t the best with words when expressing feelings but tries to write them down for you in short, heartfelt notes.

• values trust above all else; if you’re patient with him, he’ll let his walls down completely and be endlessly loyal.

• his love language is acts of service—he’ll carry your books, fix your broken quill, or help you study without you even asking.

• secretly adores when you wear something of his, like a sweater or scarf, and won’t say it outright but will be internally smug all day.

• has a soft, calming presence that makes you feel safe and at ease no matter what’s going on around you.

• he’s not perfect, sometimes retreating into himself when overwhelmed, but he’ll always come back to you, knowing you’re his anchor.

mattheo riddle as your boyfriend :

• the ultimate bad boy with a soft spot only for you; he’s tough around others but absolutely melts when it comes to you.

• constantly teases you but gets genuinely offended if you don’t fire back—he loves the banter.

• incredibly protective to the point where he’ll square up with anyone who even looks at you the wrong way.

• thrives on physical touch—his arm is always slung around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers intertwined with yours.

• has a devilish grin that he only uses to fluster you because he knows it works every single time.

• somehow knows exactly where you are at all times, and not in a creepy way—just always shows up when you need him.

• calls you ridiculous nicknames like “princess,” “trouble,” or “love,” depending on his mood.

• super possessive but not in a toxic way—he just loves reminding people that you’re his.

• absolutely hates when you’re upset with him and will go out of his way to apologize, even if it means swallowing his pride.

• smokes casually and offers you his jacket when it’s cold, the scent of him lingering on it for hours after.

• loves pulling you into trouble with him, whether it’s sneaking out after curfew or pranking someone, but always makes sure you’re safe.

• surprisingly intellectual—he can talk about dark magic theories for hours and gets a kick out of teaching you forbidden spells.

• his temper can flare up, especially when someone crosses you, but he always calms down when you’re around.

• absolutely adores seeing you in his clothes; he’ll smirk and say, “Looks better on you, anyway.”

• deeply loyal—once you have his heart, there’s no getting rid of him, and he’ll do anything to keep you happy.

• loves late-night conversations, where he gets a little vulnerable and tells you about his past and his fears.

• has a soft side he rarely shows, but when he does, it’s for you—whether it’s stroking your hair when you’re stressed or mumbling “I love you” when he thinks you’re asleep.

• he’s chaos personified, but somehow, with you, he feels like he’s finally found a bit of peace.

lorenzo birkshire as your boyfriend:

• he’s the smooth talker who flirts like it’s second nature, but with you, it’s genuine—he means every word.

• loves to make you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to crack jokes, pull silly faces, or do over-the-top impressions just to see you smile.

• low-key a hopeless romantic; he’ll surprise you with little handwritten notes, flowers he “found,” or surprise dates in secret spots.

• absolutely loves PDA—he’s the type to kiss your cheek in front of everyone or hold your hand just to let people know you’re his.

• he’s fiercely loyal, and anyone who tries to mess with you instantly regrets it; he’ll defend you without hesitation.

• the type to whisper in your ear during class, making you both laugh quietly, even if it earns him a detention.

• incredibly charming but gets adorably flustered when you flirt back or catch him off guard.

• loves spoiling you in small ways—buying you your favorite sweets, carrying your bag, or sneaking you an extra butterbeer during Hogsmeade trips.

• surprisingly good at comforting you when you’re upset; he’ll listen, wrap you in a warm hug, and crack just the right joke to lighten the mood.

• lives for the banter between you two; he thinks it’s hilarious when you try to outwit him, even if you win.

• would give you his scarf or cloak without hesitation if you were cold and wouldn’t stop teasing you about looking “adorable” in it.

• the type to plan spontaneous adventures, dragging you out of bed to sneak around the castle or explore forbidden areas.

• he’s a mix of chaotic energy and soft affection, always knowing when to be playful and when to be serious.

• low-key brags about you to his friends but pretends he’s “too cool” to care when they tease him about how smitten he is.

• loves running his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, especially when you’re sitting close or leaning against him.

• insists on being your biggest cheerleader, hyping you up before exams, Quidditch matches, or even small challenges.

• gets jealous easily but tries to play it off—he’s terrible at hiding it, though, and ends up pouting until you reassure him.

• he’s the kind of boyfriend who’s both your partner in crime and your safe place, balancing wild fun with genuine love.

draco malfoy as your boyfreind:

• starts off guarded, but once he lets his walls down, he’s completely devoted to you.

• the type to act all cool and aloof in public but secretly loves holding your hand or brushing his fingers against yours.

• buys you extravagant gifts, not because he’s trying to show off, but because it’s how he expresses his love—jewelry, rare books, or even something sentimental he knows you’ll cherish.

• incredibly protective; he’d go out of his way to make sure you’re safe and comfortable, whether that means intimidating someone who’s bothering you or walking you to every class.

• struggles to express his emotions verbally but makes up for it through his actions—he’ll always be there when you need him, no questions asked.

• low-key thrives on your praise; hearing you say you’re proud of him or appreciate him makes him feel on top of the world.

• gets jealous easily and tries to play it cool, but his little snarky comments give him away every time.

• loves spoiling you in subtle ways, like slipping your favorite dessert onto your plate at dinner or reserving the best spot in the library for you.

• softens dramatically when he’s with you; he goes from sharp sarcasm to quiet vulnerability in your presence.

• late-night talks are where he truly opens up, sharing his fears, insecurities, and dreams he’s too afraid to admit to anyone else.

• secretly loves when you mess with his perfectly styled hair, even though he’ll complain about it every time.

• will drape his scarf or coat around your shoulders if you’re cold, muttering something about how he “can’t have you freezing to death.”

• loves hearing you laugh; he’ll go out of his way to say something witty just to see you smile, even if it’s at his expense.

• incredibly attentive to your needs—he notices when you’re tired, stressed, or upset, and does everything he can to help.

• he’s not big on public displays of affection but will always find little ways to show you’re his, like resting his hand on your lower back or standing close enough for your shoulders to touch.

• gets flustered when you compliment him, especially if you call him handsome or clever—he’ll roll his eyes, but his pink cheeks give him away.

• he’s not perfect and sometimes lashes out when he’s stressed, but he’s quick to apologize and make it up to you.

• when he says he loves you, it’s rare but deeply meaningful—you can tell he means it with everything he has.

• despite his flaws, he’s fiercely loyal, endlessly protective, and wholly yours, doing everything he can to make you feel loved.

blaise zabini as your boyfriend:

• effortlessly smooth and confident, he doesn’t even need to try to charm you—it’s just who he is.

• the king of subtle but meaningful gestures, like holding doors open for you, pulling out your chair, or placing his hand on your lower back to guide you through a crowd.

• loves to spoil you, but in a classy, understated way—think fine chocolate, rare books, or spontaneous weekend getaways.

• very private about your relationship; he keeps most of his affection behind closed doors but isn’t shy about letting people know you’re his.

• gives the best advice; he’s incredibly perceptive and always knows the right thing to say when you’re stressed or upset.

• he’s not big on loud, over-the-top displays of affection, but his actions always show how much he cares—he’s the type to quietly take care of things before you even ask.

• loves watching you talk about something you’re passionate about; he’ll rest his chin in his hand and just admire you with a soft smile.

• has a wicked sense of humor and loves teasing you, but it’s always playful and never hurtful—he secretly loves when you tease him back.

• he’s the epitome of cool, calm, and collected, but you’re the only one who can fluster him when you catch him off guard with affection or a well-timed compliment.

• ridiculously good at remembering details about you, like your favorite drink, your childhood stories, or even the exact shade of your favorite lipstick.

• loves to keep you close—whether it’s casually draping an arm over your shoulder or pulling you into his lap when you’re alone together.

• fiercely protective but subtle about it; one look from him is enough to make anyone second-guess bothering you.

• will casually drop compliments about you in conversations with his friends, but if they tease him about being soft, he just smirks and doesn’t deny it.

• he’s a fantastic listener and always makes you feel like you’re the most important person in the room when you’re talking to him.

• takes immense pride in how you carry yourself and always reminds you of how incredible you are, even if you don’t see it yourself.

• adores dressing up for dates with you and insists on coordinating outfits so you both look effortlessly elegant together.

• late nights with him often involve deep conversations, a bottle of wine, and a lot of soft touches as he shares pieces of himself he doesn’t show anyone else.

• has a surprisingly tender side—he’ll hold you close when you’re feeling down, whispering reassurances that everything will be okay.

• he’s all about balance: the perfect mix of suave, playful, and deeply caring, making you feel like the luckiest person in the world.

[vernoniekiss]

hiii hope you are well 🥰 i wanted to request how each member would profess their love to you when they’re drunk if that makes sense

drunk svt professing their love to their s/o | [ ot13 ]

a/n: hi ! thankyou sm for the request. i’m doing quite well, hope you are too ! i think i also strayed away from the prompt too,, sorry.

[🫧] seungcheol

- the protective drunk. wouldn’t want anyone else to touch you or get anywhere near you. afraid someone might steal you away from him, to which they can’t because seungcheol is literally the love of your life. he doesn’t even have to tell you that he loves you because his actions speak louder than words.

[🫧] jeonghan

- teases you, him with his bright red cheeks with a cheeky smile. “i didn’t know you love me THAT much y/n~” whenever you try to touch him, like holding his hands or giving him a kiss. “but don’t worry, i love you so much”.

[🫧] joshua

- flirty drunk !!!! flirts like his life depends on it, wants to see you flustered but he’s more flustered when you flirt back :/ . would also be abit clingy to you, whispering “i love yous” every now and then.

[🫧] junhui

- poor baby blabbering nonsense right next your ear. his heads on your shoulder. all you could make out from his blabber is “love yous” “you’re so pretty” “i’m so glad im your boyfriend”. pouts his lips for kisses. reminds you of a cat…

[🫧] hoshi

- also a clingy drunk 100%. would CRY professing his love to you. you’re just there awkwardly patting his back. cling onto you for the whole night,, you’re just happy to be there :D

[🫧] wonwoo

- the type to keep his hands in yours the whole night. he’ll a bit clingier than usual. he doesn’t even have to say anything but you know he loves you and trusts you when he’s drunk.

[🫧] woozi

- i remember watching him and suga ep10 and he brought tea or something instead of drinking alcohol. cant imagine him being drunk but maybe tipsy. he’s cute when he’s there blushing/ flustered at every move you do to him. blurts that he loves you randomly during the night.

[🫧] dokeoym

- he would NOT leave you alone. he would follow you everywhere you go. he’s loud, he’s loud with his love to you. whenever there’s karaoke, he’s singing a song for you, literally a song that’s dedicated to you and only for you.

[🫧] mingyu

- 101% also a very clingy and pouty drunk. very affectionate when he’s drunk too. he’s always by your side even if you move to do something. kissing you all the time, holding you at every chance he gets. “mmh i loveeeee youuu~”

[🫧] minghao

- his actions speak louder than words but i also can’t imagine him being really drunk. he’s always holding your hands, using his thumb to caress the front of your hands. forehead kisses and when he’s tired he’ll sit even closer to you and put his head on your shoulders.

[🫧] seungkwan

- if you and seventeen are all playing a game like mafia while drinking, trust seungkwan is going to defend your ass at all times “what do you mean y/n is the mafia ?! you must be out of your mind!!!” he always makes you feel involved in stuff, he’ll always keep and eye out for you. when he’s tired and drunker than he was earlier, he’ll quietly let you know that you’re the best thing that happened to him. he doesn’t wanna get teased by hoshi or anyone else hearing him say that.

[🫧] vernon

- you think it’s cute, how he’s sitting next to you, rather nearly ON you. rambling on how he loves you so much in your ear. he’s a clingy drunk 100%. always has to he touching you in any way, his hands on your thigh, interlinked pinkies etc.

[🫧] chan

- he’ll let the whole world know that his love is only for you. if you’re at the bar or seventeen, he’ll go round pointing at you and say “that’s my girlfriend. i LOVEEEE her so much”. you’d also probably have to get on your knees to beg him to stop and go home 😞.

[hungharrington]

a little less conversation, a little more action, please

[rings bell frantically] CALLING ALL PPL WHO HAD BAD SEX EXPERIENCES!!! if that’s you, this is for u :D ! this has been in the drafts 4 months and i’m excited to set it free! enjoy! 8k words, fem!reader, oral (f receiving) MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

You think you might be the only person your age in the whole of Hawkins who doesn’t seem to get the hype.

Couples have been caught all over in the act. At the drive-in cinema, in the back of the cinema, hell, even beneath the bleachers at school — tongues down each other's throats and pants around their ankles, so caught up in each other that they don’t care about consequences. That it’s that good, that it’s worth the risk. 

Sex. 

You just don’t get it.

Once upon a time, one boyfriend ago, before you’d ever experienced it, there had been an inkling of eagerness within you. Curiosity twined in with piqued interest, you wondered eagerly about when you’d find someone who’d show you all about why sex got its reputation. 

And then you had it— with Samuel Cosgrove in his twin bed when his parents were out of town, 3 weeks into dating him. Your expectations crumbled. 

You decided quickly that everyone must be lying if that was what you were supposed to be looking forward to. It wasn’t… sexy. You didn’t feel sexy having it either.

It only left you feeling somewhat awkward and a bit foolish, with Samuel trying to ruck your shirt up even though you had asked to keep it on. Embarrassment crept in easily at how you seemed to be half a step behind him the whole time, not quite warmed up, not quite sure if this was the mood, not quite ready to take all your clothes off. 

The springs on his bed were loud and squeaked with every shift of weight. The whole thing sort of hurt more than anything.

You chalked it up to the first time, dredging together your hopes even as they rapidly deflated inside you, cemented by Samuel’s sloppy kiss that missed your mouth and landed wetly on the corner of your lips when he finished. 

His sweat stuck to your skin and you didn’t feel sexy, or good, or relieved or anything else the dozen Cosmo magazines under your bed promised you would. 

Next time, you said to yourself. You had even confided in your close friend, admitting to the underwhelming experience, and asked quite plainly when it ‘got good’. 

“The first time always sucks!” She’d assured you, her voice a hushed whisper over the diner table.“Trust me, the first, like, three times totally suck.” 

You didn’t mean to but, subconsciously, three became the number to reach— get through the first three terrible times, and… all would be peachy in paradise. 

And so when the next time was… underwhelming, you weren’t exactly surprised. Worse, was how it wasn’t anything Samuel did but what he said that stuck with you long after he’d drifted off on your sheets. Lying in the cradle of your hips, Samuel had traced his hand up your legs and then frowned, yanking his hand back. You had startled, propping up quickly to ask him what it was. 

“You’re spiky,” he said, chuckling in a mean way. You could feel your chest ache pathetically at his words and you instinctively tried to curl your legs in, wanting to hide them away. So what if they were? It was the middle of winter and he’d surprised you, showing up at your window to sneak in. 

When the fourth time happened and disappointment weighed heavy on you again, you deduced the truth. Sex was some big scam- some stupid joke that everyone was in on and just pretending to enjoy. 

It was easier to blame sex if only so you didn’t blame yourself. But… it niggles in the back of your brain, a line-up of indisputable facts that all point to the same thing. That, maybe sex isn’t the problem — but you are. 

And, look, it’s not really a problem when you’re not dating or seeing anyone.

… Enter Steve Harrington.

Admittedly, Steve was not someone you thought you would ever date. Or maybe it was the other way around, that you thought that Steve would ever date you.

His reputation as a bit of a player was as far from something you were interested in, especially considering your feelings towards sex, but… he had sort of proven you wrong every chance possible.

One month of dates and it’s been no more than holding hands and kisses on cheeks. You’ve kissed him properly, of course, once or twice, but lest you give him the wrong idea, they hadn’t been much more than a quick kiss. Steve still seemed to glow afterward, no matter what. 

It made you feel good. Safe. Warmed you to know he was happy with whatever affection you felt ready to bestow, and never pushed for more. 

You could tell he wanted it. It was hidden in the flex of his fingers and even the not-so-subtle adjusting of his pants when he’d invited you over for a dip in his pool. You’d shown up in your bathing suit— and it was the most amount of skin Steve had ever seen from you and it did not go underappreciated. He had been touchy, hands skirting up your sides, but still respectful. 

And strangely enough, you find yourself… wanting it too. 

Wanting for his touch, thinking about letting your own hands wander across his skin to find what makes him sigh, makes him groan in pleasure, what might make him whine. It surprises you, the ferocity of your eagerness, how it presses your thighs together tightly and licks pure arousal up your spine — even when Steve’s not even trying. 

(He was, you just didn’t know it. Steve knows exactly when girls seem to be looking at his arms and he’s unashamed to say he will flex his muscles and pretend he hasn’t. Robin has caught him doing this several times.) 

And today has been nothing short of wonderful. 

A balmy Saturday which you found yourself swept up in Steve’s company over at his house, laziness fuelled by the golden sun rays of the day. 

You weren’t even doing anything in particular, just enjoying being near each other. You had stretched out on a pool lounger with a book in your hand for the most part and it was with giddy delight that Steve seemed more than chuffed to just lay beside you, sizzling in the sun and then occasionally cooling off in the pool. 

Which is a spectacle all in itself. 

The sight of his chest gives you one or two steamy ideas, especially as it drips with water when he pushes up on the edge of the pool. His biceps bulge deliciously as you peer over the edge of your book, not as subtlety as you might think. You honestly don’t even mind if he catches you staring, not when this is your view. 

Your eyes trace the sparkling drops of water as they roll down his chest tantalizingly slow, through the chest hair between his pecs, down, down, trailing down his happy trail— fuck, okay, he totally caught you staring. 

Your eyes dart back up to his face to find Steve’s already looking at you, his eyes holding a playful mirth to them. His smile looks just a little bit cheeky. Bastard. 

Water splatters on the tiles where he walks as he pads over to collect his towel bunched on the end of the lounger beside your own.

“Good book?” He asks sweetly.

He says it as he scrubs the towel over his face, drying it off and then starting on his hair— he gives it a quick rub over rapidly so that when he pulls the towel away, his hair is sticking up in every direction. He holds the towel to his chest and gives his head a quick shake, like a dog, shaking out the extra water.

When he looks up at you again, beginning to towel dry his bare chest, you realise you haven’t even attempted to answer his question. 

“Book.” You echo. Steve chuckles a little bit and it kickstarts your embarrassment, finally remembering to say something else. You hold the book up to gesture with it, “Yes! It’s good, it’s…” 

Steve’s resumed drying himself and you find your words leaving you as the towel drags down his tummy, leading your eyes with it. Your mouth feels suspiciously dry. Want. You want him.

“It’s…?” 

He’s teasing you again. You startle, wondering if he’s purposefully trying to put on a sensual towel-drying show for you. You’re surprised to find you’re actually glad that he is. 

It feels like another subtle way to affirm all his affections for you without all of the touchiness you’ve yet to reach with him — come and get me, it’s like he’s saying, if you want. 

You snap your book shut. “It’s too hot to be reading, I think.” 

Steve frowns in his worry and steps forward, closer to you. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead lightly. “You feelin’ too warm? Y’gotta careful being out here too long if you aren’t gonna swim.” 

He sounds on the concerned side but there’s a touch of cheek in his voice too, like he knows why you haven’t turned the page for the last 5 minutes. It stokes the firey feeling that’s beginning to burn in your gut. A smile curls at your lips and you huff a little laugh, leaning back and batting his hand away from your forehead. 

“Yes, mom.” You jest, hand falling back onto the lounger. You lean back onto it to get a better view of him. “I’m not too hot.” 

Steve grins. “Oh, I would say the opposite. You are, in fact,” He leans in closer, one hand coming up to push some hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, fingertips on the edge of your jaw. “Very hot.” 

You couldn’t stop your reaction if you tried— which you do try, some sputtering cough with a duck of your head as you feel your body flush hotly at his words. His forwardness is something you’re still getting used to.

Just as you’re about to stumble through a poorly constructed sentence, Steve saves you— reaching over to grab his rumpled t-shirt and pulling it over his head. A small, disappointed, part of you wilts. You catch yourself from being so obvious, scooping up your bookmark and stuffing it in a random page. 

Steve offers his hand out for you to take. “C’mon, we both need some water I think.” 

You ponder if there’s a second meaning to his words as you trail along beside him, letting him lead you back through the sliding glass doors that open to the kitchen with your intertwined hands. Steve gives your hand a quick squeeze before he drops it to open the fridge, peering inside. You lean back against the counter, arms folding loosely over your front and allow yourself to look at him. 

Your boyfriend. It sounds even a bit strange in your head and you know if you tried to say it aloud, it would get caught on the way out, tripping over your teeth. Calling him your boyfriend cements all those expectations you worry so much about… even though, not-so-secretly, you revel in the fact thats he’s your boyfriend. 

“Thinking hard over there, I can see,” Steve comments teasingly and you blink, realising he’s already looking at you. He must have asked you a question and you missed it. 

“What?” 

Steve laughs a bit, pink lips pulled into a slight smirk. He shakes the bottle in his hands a little bit, bringing your attention to it. “Did you want to try some of this? I think it’s sparkling and…” 

He trails off, pulling the bottle closer to his face to scan over the front of it. You can’t help but think the furrow in his brows as he reads is adorable. He hums, obviously not finding what he’s after, and flips the bottle over. 

“…raspberry flavour?” He finishes, looking up at you, brows raised. He gives a little shrug. “That sound nice?” 

You think about it for a moment and then shake your head. Steve laughs in agreement and places ii back in the fridge, some mumble about his mom leaving it here the last time she visited home. He turns back to the fridge still rummaging. “Okay, anything in particular you want?” 

You are thirsty but… your stomach swoops as you realise it’s for something else altogether. If you want it though, you’ll have to ask. 

“Maybe, a kiss?” 

Steve freezes for an instant, then he whips around like he’s not entirely sure he’s heard correctly. The fridge door clatters loudly and he quickly grabs it, stopping the rattling bottles and looking mighty flushed when he shoots you a grin. 

“A kiss?” He checks. He lets go of the fridge doors to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, too aware of his own unsubtle eagerness. “I heard that right, didn’t I?” 

A nervous chuckle scrapes out your throat but you nod. You uncross your arms but can’t settle them, crossing them again nervously as Steve comes closer. His brown eyes scan your face intently, searching to make sure he’s getting every signal right. 

When you smile assuredly, Steve sighs in relief and his shoulders drop an inch. He smiles too, his hand reaching up to hold your faces cupping your cheek. His strokes across your cheekbone as he talks. “Oh, thank god. I was beginning to think, maybe, you just weren’t into kissing me.” 

Then he leans in— and you hold your breath without meaning to. 

The thing is, Steve is a good kisser. A very very good kisser and even your strange gaspy noise as you try to remember to breathe is not enough to ruin the kiss. His plush lips capture yours and have you feeling as hot as the day, a heat blooming in your chest and spreading like wildfire. Your fingers flex at your sides. 

You push up on your toes without even thinking, to steal more of his touch, and when Steve breaks the kiss, you’re embarrassed to find yourself chasing his lips. You clear your throat and avert your eyes, sinking back down— embarrassed at showing how much you’d melted under a single kiss. 

You just don’t realise how it looks to Steve. 

“You do… right?” 

Your head pops up, eyes widening as you try to comprehend his question. 

“Like… kissing you?” You ask meekly, more embarrassed that he’s asking for confirmation. Embarrassed that you’d somehow been overly eager and also convinced him of the opposite in one kiss. God, maybe there is something wrong with you. 

“Yeah.” Steve nods, pulling back a little further from you— like he needs physical space in case you say something absurd like ‘no.’ 

Your hands react faster than your mind, reaching to grab his shoulders to stop him from putting space between you. 

“Yes!” You say loudly. You try to rein in your embarrassment for his sake, swallowing your nerves which feel thick and swollen in your throat. “Yes, I like kissing you. It’s just, I’m… I’m worried.” 

How do you say this? How can you explain that you’ve been so afraid of your kisses going a few steps further because then- then when things get heated and Steve’s expecting things, you have to explain that — that what? 

That you’re not really sure if you even like sex, or maybe that it just doesn’t seem to work for you or — or that there’s probably just something wrong with you that means you can’t figure out how the hell to relax and enjoy sex- and that it’s not his fault but probably totally yours but— 

“Woah, woah, woah,” Steve cuts into your spiralling thoughts, having seen the dilemma spilled across your face. “Stop thinking what you’re thinking and just, like, take a breather.” 

He places his hand on his chest and mimes a deep inhale. You copy him without thinking, chest rising and falling in sync with his, unable to look at him for a moment. When you find the courage to dredge your eyes up to his face, his eyes are soft and his brows have knitted together in concern. 

“Good.” He praises, hand falling off his chest to rub gently at your arm. “Okay, now instead of doing all that worrying up there just… tell me what’s worrying you. Please?” 

Part of you want to huff and hide, to make him really pry so you know that he means it. It’s dramatic, you know — especially because he’s being so good at communicating. He’s asked outright. You try to put the words in the correct order. 

“Just… we haven’t— I haven’t kissed you a lot because I’m worried about what it might lead to.” You say quietly, eyes back to avoiding his gaze. You stare at his chest, the tuft of chest hair peeking out, and do your best to swallow the knot in your throat. 

“And I— I don’t want to disappoint you,” you admit, frustrated at how a familiar sting burns at the back of your eyes. “But I- just, in the times I’ve gone that far and— and slept with someone, I didn’t… I just didn’t like it. I didn’t enjoy it.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut tight, proclamation out in the open, and try to take a deep breath— just like Steve had instructed mere moments ago. Courage gathered, you open your eyes and peer up at him again. 

“Oh,” Steve breathes. You can nearly see the cogs turning in his head, his eyebrows twitching as he takes in what you’ve said and what it means for the two of you. “Oh, well that’s okay. I mean, if you didn’t want to I would never—“ 

“—That’s not the thing.” You interrupt. “I want to. I do. I just…” Your voice trails off, taking on a  trembling whisper as you say the thing you’ve yet to say aloud yet, for fear of speaking it into existence. You can’t quite look at him, eyes focused on the kitchen tiles instead. 

“I think it’s me. I think— I’m worried there’s something wrong with me.” 

Your words hang in the air for a moment and Steve feels his worry shift into something deeper, something closer to devastation, as he realises how deeply you believe what you’ve said. 

You genuinely think there is— even thinking it makes him want to scoff aloud. He forces himself to focus on consoling you here and now, instead of riling himself up with thoughts of whatever— whoever lead you to your immense self-doubt. 

“Well, there’s not,” Steve says plainly. Like there’s no room for discussion— his hand drifting down your arm to gather your hands in his own. They get swallowed, his hands huge when compared to your own. 

“There’s nothing wrong— you- you could never disappoint me in that way.” 

Your eyes lift from the ground to his face, desperate to see if you can see the truth in his words. He can tell- fuck, he can already read you so well. 

“Honest,” He insists, giving your hands a quick squeeze. “I promise you, okay? I- if I was disappointed over something like that it would be- that would be such a dick move.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t be the first.” You mutter bitterly. 

The words slip out without entirely meaning to; you aren’t trying to start a pity party but how are you supposed to explain why you think the way you do? How can you explain why you’re so worried about taking it further? Deep down, you know he deserves to know. 

Steve’s eyes widen for a moment, your words sinking in and cutting as they go. He doesn’t want to think about you sleeping with other people, for all the jealous reasons, but mainly because everything he’s learned today is that nobody has taken proper care of you. 

It twists his heart thinking of some fucking idiot not taking his time with you, not getting you comfortable— so that you get to this point, embarrassed, avoiding his eyes, and so entirely convinced that you’re the problem. 

“Look,” Steve says softly. His hands squeeze yours again and he tries to think of how best to say this. “If we never sleep together, I don’t care.” 

That catches your attention, your head jerking up to look at him — what? That has never even been an option with dating someone. Not in your mind, at least. You find yourself reeling, fumbling for words but Steve just keeps talking. 

“If you don’t wanna, I don’t wanna,” Steve shrugs, like that’s all there is to it.

“There’s nothing wrong if it’s not really your thing.” Another squeeze to your hands. You look up at him, aware you must look a picture of bewildered — there were a thousand ways you imagined this conversation going and this was not one of them. 

A smile pulls on his lips as he chuckles a bit, eyes falling to your conjoined hands. “Hell, for all we know I’d add to your disappointing experiences.” 

You laugh quietly but it’s saturated in fondness. He’s taking jabs at himself to make you feel better. 

“Hardly likely, considering the rumours I’ve heard about you,” You murmur lowly. You find it in yourself to squeeze his hands back, peering back up at him. Steve’s brows rise and he grins. 

“Oh? And just what rumours are we talking about?” He teases. 

“Shut up,” You say, no heat behind it in the slightest. Your chest is starting to feel lighter and lighter as the reality of his words sink in. “You know what they say about you.” 

Steve grins wider. “That I slept with Mrs. Click just to pass her class?” 

“What?” You wrinkle your nose at the horrid picture of your old English teacher with your boyfriend. “No! Did people really say that about you?” 

Steve’s grin fades, edging towards jaded. He gives a soft sigh, tilting his head back an inch. “People say everything and it all means nothing unless it’s coming from the right person.” 

He wriggles a hand free from your unaware tightening holding to brush his knuckles against your cheek tenderly. A piece of hair flops over his forehead, curling back upwards, and the buzz of cicadas fills the empty noise around you.

“So, I don’t know if some asshole told you or you just think that you’re wrong, but…” Steve inhales, his eyes darting between yours. 

The brown in them is intense, holding you fixed beneath his heavy gaze. “If— just you said you want to so, we can try and- and we can go slow and I’ll stop the moment you want to, okay? For whatever reason.” 

You feel a strange bubble of hope churn in your gut. It feels too good to be true. 

“…You’re sure?” 

“M’sure,” Steve nods. “Even for something as small as you don’t like the way my dick looks or—“ 

A laugh startles out of you and you shake your head. “I meant more about stopping but good to know anyways.” You pause a moment. “…Should I be worried?” 

You’re teasing. Steve delights in it, his own voice slipping that little bit lower— his knuckles on your cheek swiping across, down your jaw, til he lingers near your neck. 

“Why don’t you find out?” 

The hunger in your tummy returns with a new heat, rivalling the day. You suddenly feel nervous again, a roll of nerves turning over, but this time it feels far closer to anticipation. The kiss you’ve been yearning to give him, hot and messy, burns up inside you and when you rise on your toes, Steve meets you in the middle. 

Your lower back presses against the counter as Steve leans into you, his mouth slotted against yours. One kiss snowballs into another, and another, the fervency growing as you let yourself give into your desire. Your hands on his shoulders shift, trailing down to feel up the chest you’ve been gawking at all day.

Steve lets out a quiet grunt as your nails dig in and his other hand finds your waist, tugging you to press against his body — his other hand slides into your hair, clutching the strands loosely. You sigh into his mouth, nerves still alight beneath your skin but the way they buzz makes you feel good. Steve makes you feel good. 

Right as his hand scrapes along your lower back, heading lower, you’re both startled by the loud beep! that sounds in the kitchen. At the same time you peer around him, Steve turns and gives a sheepish chuckle, seeing the fridge door still ajar from when he’d been fishing around inside. 

He steps away from you, pushing the doors closed gently. Turning back, your chest swells with pride seeing the effect you’re already having on him; red lips, shiny with spit and a faint ruby colour in the apples of his cheeks. Steve smiles, boyish and charming. 

“Do you wanna keep—“ 

“—yes.”

You’re not going to squander this chance, not going to waste the days' chemistry when there’s still that tiny worry niggling in the back of your brain that today is all a fluke. That Steve’s words might just be an offer, something else that wouldn’t be a first for you. 

Steve grins. He holds out his hand and you intertwine yours with him, letting him lead you. Your stomach swoops as he takes you out the kitchen and heads for the stairs, checking back on you with a quick glimpse. You do your best to show him your excitement instead of your nerves. You’re not sure you succeed. 

Squeezing his hand does the trick for a final reassurance. Steve resumes leading you up the stairs, taking a familiar turn towards his bedroom, beginning to talk softly as he does. 

“Remember, anytime, anything you don’t like, just say the word.” 

You both pause, standing in his room and you swallow the doubts that try to claw back up your throat. Giving a sly glance at him, you smile coyly and wiggle your hand out from his. Trailing backwards to his bed, you pretend to think about it, til your thighs hit the edge of the bed. 

“Hmm… well,” You begin, a touch of sultriness dipping into your voice. “I don’t like… that you’re still wearing your shirt.” 

Before you, Steve huffs a silent laugh, that handsome smile gracing his lips as he ducks his head. He doesn’t disappoint though, his arms reaching up behind his head to shuck his shirt off in one fluid motion.

He chucks it aside thoughtlessly and where it lands doesn’t even matter — your eyes are fixed on his chest. His bare chest that you’ve been given permission to properly ogle at. You swear you feel your mouth salivate a bit. 

“Should've known this would go first, considering the way you were drooling outside,” Steve remarks cockily, folding his arms loosely. It makes his biceps bulge and you swallow again, this time nothing to do with nerves. 

“I wasn’t drooling,” You defend weakly, beginning to fidget with the hem of your own shirt. “I was admiring, okay? There’s a difference.” 

Steve saunters over slowly as you talk, steps slow and measured. He’s smirking by the time he’s before you, so close you can feel the heat of him. “Uh huh. Totally, sweetheart, I believe you. Need help with this?” 

His hand has reached out, fingers pinching the same hem you’re fiddling with. You nod slowly, “Yes, please.” 

Steve’s smirk fades into something sweeter and he grabs the hem with two hands, beginning to ruck it up gently, his eyes locked on yours — you raise your arms when it starts to get caught, holding your gaze to his until the fabric intersects. Your arms drop and you push away the urge to wrap them around your middle. 

Steve drops your shirt much more gently than his own but his eyes are still entirely on you. There’s a shine of awe in them now, flicking up at down the newly exposed skin. 

The intensity of his gaze makes you want to shy away but you chose bravery instead, reaching out to grab his side. Steve jumps, barely an inch, and before you even get a chance to question, he’s smiling. “Y’got cold hands, honey.” 

He draws them up to his mouth, laying soft kisses across your knuckles. Heat flushes through you and you melt beneath it, lowering yourself back on the bed. Steve follows eagerly, still kissing at your hands. He kneels between your legs and when he finally drops your hands from his, it’s to reach out and cup your jaw. 

“Keep breathing,” He murmurs quietly, eyes dancing in amusement. You hadn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You realise it in one big exhale and this time, when you reach for him, you actually succeed in tugging him closer. You tumble backward into his sheets and Steve comes with you, his forearms planted on either side of you and his body pressed up against yours. 

“I don’t like…” You say, continuing the bit from earlier, your voice quiet and still tinged with a poorly hidden nervousness. “That you keep waiting to kiss me.” 

Steve’s brows hike up an inch but his smile hides his surprise easily, his entire face glowing a bit brighter. He looks fucking gorgeous bathed in the buttery sunlight, even though it’s just beginning to fade towards darkness behind the curtains. 

You stare unabashedly up at him, marvelling at his features that are etched in with adoration for you. You follow down the strong line of his nose, along the soft arches in his eyebrows, the faint wrinkles at the corners of his eyes that he has from smiling. 

You study the swell of his cupids bow perched above his pink lips and each of the moles dotted all over your favourite face— and think to yourself it’s not fucking fair that he looks like this. Like he’s been carved from marble and cast in gold. 

Thank God he’s yours. 

He doesn’t disappoint you — his lips finding yours and kissing you deeply, his chest brushing your own. Your entire body seems to sigh at the touch, tingling with anticipation — you’ve been overdue for all these kisses for far too long and it seems once you’ve gotten started, it feels impossible to stop.

You kiss needily, your hands moving off his midriff to drift up to his jawline. You cradle it gently, your lips a little less gentle- you try to remember how to do this, how to nip at his lips teasingly, how to soothe them with your tongue. 

Slowly, Steve’s body weight lowers onto you as he focuses more and more on figuring out what you seem to like. Time melts like candle wax and you feel as goopy as it too, all warm and pliable, softened by his kisses. Heat begins to simmer in your gut. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing when Steve pulls away, his mouth cherry red and his face flushed. 

His fingers slip beneath the strap of your bra, toying with it but nothing more. He checks over your face as he asks, “Wanna take this off?” 

You nod, breathlessly. Up til now, it’s been easy to turn off your brain and let all your thoughts revolve around getting kissed absolutely stupid by Steve. 

But as his hands work deftly beneath you, unclipping the strap of your bra and beginning to tug it down, you feel the first worry creep in — this is usually when your panties follow, then his boxers, and then the expectations. Even with all your enjoyment, you know that if he tries now, you won’t be ready. 

Frustration bubbles up in your chest, mingling with your insecurity and you squirm a bit, trying to think of how to tell Steve without disappointing him. 

You’re so sick of disappointing people for something you can’t seem to help. 

Steve notices your squirming. His head shoots up to meet your gaze, a furrow back in his brow. “Hey, hey, what’s goin’ on?” 

“I…” Words die on your tongue easily, a war happening inside your throat as you debate what to say. You like him— you really like him and don’t want this to end and… he told you he wants you to tell the truth. 

“I don’t… I’m not—“ Your whisper climbs in volume alongside your frustration. “Steve, this isn’t working.” 

The wrinkle between his brow deepens and it’s not a comforting sight. Steve shifts a bit, his hand moving from the straps of your bra up to your face. He pushes back a few stray locks of hair, eyes sincere. 

“Not working?” He murmurs, “Baby, we’ve only just started.” 

You blink up at him once, twice. Your mouth opens and then closes again. 

You know that but you also know how this goes. Well, you think you know— so why do you suddenly feel so foolish? 

“Oh.” You say shyly. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and try to ignore feeling like you’ve just ruined the mood. 

Steve takes it all in his stride, nothing but a twitch in his furrows brows as he takes in your embarrassed expression. He leans down, and kisses your neck, then your collarbone. His lips trail down, down, slow and sensual. Your bra scraps down your arms, tossed aside absentmindedly.

“Sweet girl,” he whispers into your skin. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Sorry?” You echo, a bit breathier as Steve's kisses scrape down your breast. Your nipples peak to attention.

“Mhm,” he hums, his lips wrapping around your nipple and sucking— his hands paw greedily at your back which arches eagerly into his kisses. Steve drags his mouth off, beginning to mouth softly down your breast til his plush lips kiss at your sternum. 

“M’sorry that nobody has ever taken care of you before.”

You squirm beneath him at his words, a warm flush washing through your body as desire spins up inside you. Steve continues as if he hasn’t turned your whole view inside-out— his hand shifting up to thumb at your nipple as he takes your nipple back between his lips. 

“Steve…” you sigh out. 

He’s kneading your body in just the right way, the sensitivity of your chest fuelling the pool of heat growing deep in your stomach. You feel your thighs clench together, hips shifting up instinctively. You haven’t been touched like this before and fuck, it’s a lot. 

“I know, honey.” He says lowly, voice muffled against your skin. He suckles at your nipple and just nips at it, a flash of teeth, enough to make you arch further. Your eyes slip shut and you push your chest further out. 

To your disappointment, Steve pulls back instead. Your eyes open, neck craning to look at him, your chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.

“Y’tell me if there’s anything you don’t like, alright?” 

Somehow, the heat in your gut flares that much hotter — knowing that there’s love behind every motion. You scramble for threads of courage and hold them tightly. Then you bend your legs until you can slide them around his waist, ankles crossing and tugging him closer. His cock, straining in his pants, presses flush against your core, and at the same time you inhale, Steve stutters out a groan. 

“I’ll tell you.” You say, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip to hold back your grin. It melts away as Steve shifts against you purposefully, one of his hands dropping to hold your hip. The hard length of him grinds against your cunt, catching the angle of your clit in a way that makes you mewl beneath him. 

Steve kisses your breast again but your hands are already reaching for him— fingers cupping his jaw to tug him up. Your lips capture his and this time, when he rolls his hips into yours, the soft noise you make is swallowed in his kiss. It’s fervent, your kisses gaining speed and mess. You tighten your ankles and experiment with your grind and are rewarded with a jagged moan from Steve. 

Faintly, you consider how it makes a little more sense now. That all those desperate motions of making out, rutting against each other, hot open-mouth kisses— fuck, if it was always like this, you get it. You feel like you’re on fire. 

A breeze flutters the curtains across the room, the only indication of time outside your little bubble. It’s far too easy to get lost in the motions— building up your lust until you’re sure the cotton between your legs is soaked through. It feels silly but god, even though you knew this was one of the things making all those past times so terrible, you had just assumed that’s how it would always be. 

The stickiness feels vulgar, your cunt pulsating with heat like you’ve never felt before. It just makes it all feel better though— the warm, hard heat of Steve’s cock, fitting snug between your folds. 

A pause in the makeout to catch your breath. You’re huffing wildly and Steve takes the moment of his undistracted attention to focus on the shorts you’re wearing. He doesn’t ask verbally this time but as he hooks his fingers beneath the waistband, his eyes flash up to yours in question. 

You wiggle your hips and Steve takes his cue, the fabric scraping against your skin as it slides down, down, down. To your surprise, Steve goes with them. He gets halfway down the bed, his head aligned with your belly, hands kneading at the flesh of your boobs before he halts. 

“I wanna try something,” He says, looking up at you. He dots a quick kiss onto your skin as he does, not breaking eye contact. “And I think you’re gonna really love it.” 

He drags out the word really, his voice low enough that it rumbles, nearly a purr. 

“It involves a little bit of this.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss into your navel. He kisses nice and slow, the plushness of his lips scraping across the stretch of skin. 

You shiver a little, feeling how your thighs part instinctively and Steve smiles wickedly, seeing the motion. 

“A little—“ He travels further down, his hands sliding to hold the outside of your thighs. He grips the skin and urges it to spread wider— then takes a greedy fat lick along your inner thigh. “—of this.” 

You squirm. It’s unnerving in the best way, having someone so dedicated to making you feel good— but Steve’s face betrays no hint of insincerity. In fact, if you had to guess, you’d say he even looks excited. 

His large tan hands cover your hips, slender fingers curved atop your thighs to keep them pried open. You’re expecting the next question to be getting the final scrap of clothing off you— a mixture of nerves and excitement at the vulnerability that comes with taking them off. 

He doesn’t though. Drawing a line with the tip of his nose, he nuzzles down from the inside of your knee to your thigh, the warmth of his breath fanning across sensitive skin. He kisses your cunt, once, soft. You twitch, a sweet noise pushing past your lips. 

Steve does it again. This time, his lips part and you feel his tongue press through the soaked cotton of your panties — he kisses again, harder, moving over your clit with his tongue. This time you moan and feel your hips tip up to chase his mouth, surprising yourself. 

Fuck, when have you ever been this wet before? The cotton between your legs is sticky and it only gets messier with Steve’s every lick. The duvet crinkles beneath you as you sigh and sink into it, the low throb of pleasure curling up in your gut. 

“Steve,” you sigh his name like it’s a prayer. 

He hums against your core, his fingers gliding beneath the elastic of your panties but not pulling them down just yet. His hot mouth drops lower, his nose pressing into you at the perfect angle. Your breathy exhale is lilted with moans. 

“See?” He murmurs, so low you nearly don’t hear him. 

“S’Nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Y’just needed…“ His fingers grip your panties and begin to pull and you aid him quickly with a lift of your hips. “…someone to take a little more care with you.” 

Any fear of vulnerability is whirled far away; you need his mouth back on you, like, yesterday. Especially when Steve groans. Like the sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his cock ache. Your tummy heats further at the thought. 

His hands re-situate, soothing up to your tummy before sliding back down to grasp the tops of your thighs again. He pulls them open wider. 

Pure fire streaks through your nerves, a sweltering pleasurable burn twisting in your gut as Steve’s tongue licks through your folds in one bold stroke. Your hips try to twitch forward but his hands are already there, holding them down. 

There’s one more pause, one soft curse of adoration, as his nose nuzzles along the soft skin of your inner thigh. You feel unbearably warm in his sheets, heat pulsating and dancing beneath your skin. 

“Steve,” you whisper his name again, urging him gently. “Please.” 

“I got you,” He murmurs in response.  “You don’t gotta say please with me,” He hums lowly, then kisses right on your clit, languid and warm, his tongue swirling around it deftly. You cry out softly. 

He drags his mouth off you and if you looked down, you’d see the soft sheen of your slick on his rosy lips. “I wanna give you everything you want.” 

You gasp as he finally puts his mouth on you properly, pleasure dribbling through your core as he suckles on your clit. He’s killer with his tongue, twisting it and flattening it against your bud in a way that has you squirming. The sheets scrunch in your frenzied grip. 

For the first time, you understand why pornos even sound like that— taking a moment to realise the whiney gaspy noise you’re hearing is coming from you. 

“Oh god,” You whine prettily. “That’s— uh— fuck, that’s really good.” 

Between your thighs, you hear and feel the moan Steve gives back. Your thighs are twitching, torn between trying to keep them apart or warm your boyfriend's ears. Your hips are moving, subtle grinds up into Steve’s face and he takes it all appreciatively. He sucks and slurps, tongue dragging down your folds to toy at your clenching hole— making you squeal. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back for a moment. His voice is doused in arousal. “You’re so wet.” 

Heat plumes low in your tummy as he dives back in, a groan echoing from his throat. The coil in your gut tightens, winding tighter and tighter. Your chest heaves as your voice melts away until everything you say is a whimpery little “yes, yes, yes,” and Steve’s name. 

His huge hands are still pressing your thighs apart but one shifts suddenly, barely noticeable in your mounting euphoria, until it’s tapping at your hand fisted in the sheets. 

You lift your head, confused, and peer down at him. 

It’s a mistake. His hand is resting on the bed in front of your own, propped up and fingers spread. It's clear he wants to hold your hand. Chest heaving and still lightly moaning, your eyes dart from his hand to his face — and that’s the mistake. 

He’s fucking beautiful. Hair mussed, rosy-cheeked, and dark-eyed, Steve can only hold eye contact for a moment before his eyelids slip shut as he moans against your cunt. Fire blooms under your skin, coil turned tighter and together. He wants to hold your hand. Your fingers just manage to tangle with Steve’s, holding tight, as you tip over the edge with a cry. 

It’s intense — jagged waves of pleasure that ride through every nerve in your body and have you nearly overwhelmed with how fucking good it feels. Incoherent babbling whines pour from your mouth. Your thighs lock up, beating Steve’s strong hold now that he’s down to just one hand, and close around his head. He moans in response, his tongue never letting up, licking and sucking at your cunt fervently. 

And he holds your hand the whole way through. 

You feel thoroughly flattened by the time your orgasm tapers off, your legs relaxing and flopping tiredly against the bed. Vaguely, you’re aware you should apologise for likely cutting off his oxygen flow for a good couple of seconds there but you’re too out of breath yourself to do so. 

Your chest rises and falls and a sweet contentment settles into your skin. You feel happy, loved. Without meaning to, an awed laugh titters out of you. 

Then another, and another. You can’t seem to stop laughing, a gleeful silly joy as you release his hand to bury your face in your own. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper to yourself. Then, slightly louder. “Holy shit, Steve.” 

You hear him laugh and the sheets crinkle — and then he’s in your field of vision, hovering over you with an adoring grin on his face. His lips are still so pink and there’s a shine on his chin. He wipes it away absentmindedly, focused on you. 

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He says, genuine and not at all cocky. He settles down, one arm on either side of your chest. One of his hands sweeps over your face sweetly. 

You nod, tucking your bottom lip behind your teeth to constrain your grin. 

“Uh huh,” you say, voice all gooey. “I didn’t—“ 

You pause. “I thought— and then you— and Oh my Goddd.” You cover your face with your hands again, groaning exaggeratedly as you try to roll over and melt away into his bed sheets. 

“See? I told you it wasn’t you,” Steve says, peppering little kisses where he can reach. He kisses your shoulder, along the side of your face. He coaxes you out gently, pressing your shoulder to roll you onto your back. You face him properly.

“There is nothing wrong with you.” He reminds you. You’ve never been so happy to be wrong. You nod, hair scrunching against the pillow behind you. 

“Okay,” You say, with a small smile, finally believing it. “There’s nothing wrong with me.” 

Steve’s stare is glowing with fondness and the next moment, he’s lurching forward to press his mouth to yours. You kiss back greedily and lazily all at once.

He pulls back and you hate how the thought comes to you, unbidden; the smallest wrinkle creasing between your brows. 

“But,” You begin, voice small. “That wasn’t sex though.” 

Steve’s head tilts an inch, like an adorably confused puppy. “What do you mean? That was sex.” 

“What? That was— that was like second base.”

Steve huffs a laugh, though not directed at you. His gaze shifts above your head as he chooses his words. “Uhh, sure, if we were still in high school. But even then, that’s still sex. We just had some sex.” 

Stating it so plainly, you can’t help how it makes you giggle a bit. Steve rolls his eyes, even though you can tell he’s entirely endeared. 

“We just had sex,” You repeat his words, eyes bright and grin growing. “And I really enjoyed it.” 

Steve laughs loudly and steals a quick kiss from you. Holding up his hand, he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “Just had sex high-five?” He jokes. 

You slap your hand against his anyways, twisting your fingers to hold onto his hand as you let them fall to the bed. Steve beams, cuddling in closer, the tip of his nose nuzzling against your own. 

Turns out, you might be starting to get the whole big deal around sex after all. 

[atinyslittleworld]

Step By Step

wooyoung x f!reader

Summary: When Y/N confides in Wooyoung about her inexperience with kissing, he offers to "teach" her. What begins as innocent lessons soon spirals into something neither can ignore.

Word Count: 3,072

Genre: friends-to-lovers, slow burn, romantic tension

Warnings: kissing, mild suggestive themes

“You’ve never kissed anyone?”

Wooyoung’s voice echoed with disbelief as he stared at you, his mouth slightly agape.

“Can you stop saying it like that?” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said quickly, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed his lack of remorse. “I’m just shocked. Like, you’ve dated before, right? Not even a quick peck?”

“Not everyone is as… free-spirited as you,” you retorted, your voice muffled by your palms.

“Free-spirited?” he repeated with a laugh. “You mean hot and irresistible.”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” you said dryly, finally lowering your hands. The amused sparkle in his eyes was both endearing and infuriating.

“So,” he said, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Why bring this up now? It’s not like you to care about this kind of stuff.”

You hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. “There’s this guy…”

“Wait, a guy?” Wooyoung interrupted, his eyes widening.

“Yes, a guy,” you confirmed, already regretting bringing it up.

“Okay, continue,” he said, leaning closer.

You sighed. “He’s been flirting with me for a while, and I think he’s going to ask me out.”

“Well, that’s exciting,” Wooyoung said, though his smile faltered slightly. “So what’s the problem?”

“The problem is…” You paused, searching for the right words. “What if he finds out I’ve never kissed anyone? What if I’m bad at it and he decides I’m not worth the effort?”

Wooyoung blinked, his playful demeanor shifting into something softer. “Y/N,” he said firmly, “any guy who would ditch you over something like that doesn’t deserve you. End of story.”

His words warmed you, but your insecurities lingered. “You don’t know that,” you murmured.

“Yes, I do,” he said, sitting up straighter. “And if he does pull something that stupid, I’ll fight him. With my bare hands. No gloves. No mercy.”

The serious tone in his voice paired with his exaggerated expression made you laugh despite yourself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously devoted to you, yes,” he said, grinning.

“Thanks, Woo,” you said quietly, his reassurance soothing the knots in your stomach.

Then his grin turned mischievous, and you immediately braced yourself.

“I have an idea,” he said, his tone laced with that dangerous kind of confidence only Wooyoung could pull off.

“Oh no,” you said immediately.

“Hear me out!” he exclaimed, holding up his hands. “Let me teach you.”

Your brow furrowed. “Teach me what?”

“To kiss,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You stared at him, your brain short-circuiting. “You’re joking.”

“For once, I’m not,” he said, his smirk widening. “You trust me, right?”

“I…” You hesitated, unsure how to respond. The idea was insane—wild, even—but something about the sincerity in his eyes made it impossible to say no.

“Fine,” you said, exhaling sharply. “Teach me.”

It started innocently enough.

You sat cross-legged on Wooyoung’s bed, facing him. He mirrored your position, his usual cocky grin softening into something more genuine.

“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands together. “Lesson one: the peck. It’s the foundation of all kissing. Super simple, super easy.”

He leaned forward slightly, his lips brushing against yours for the briefest second before pulling back.

“See? Nothing to it,” he said, smiling. “Now you try.”

You nodded, leaning in to mimic his action. Your lips pressed against his, quick and soft, and when you pulled back, he gave you an approving nod.

“Not bad,” he said. “But you can hold it a little longer. Watch.”

This time, his lips lingered against yours, the kiss lasting a few seconds longer. When he pulled back, you mirrored his actions, holding the kiss until he hummed softly in approval.

“Good,” he murmured. “Let’s move on.”

Each step grew more intimate.

Wooyoung guided you through the basics of lip movement, teaching you how to match his rhythm. His kisses were slow and deliberate, his lips soft yet firm against yours.

“You’re getting it,” he said after a particularly long kiss, his breath brushing against your skin.

“Really?” you asked, your voice slightly breathless.

“Yeah,” he said, his eyes flickering to your lips. “You’re a natural.”

The next step involved using your tongue. “It’s all about subtlety,” Wooyoung explained, his voice quieter now. “Open your mouth a little, like this.”

He demonstrated, his tongue grazing your bottom lip before retreating. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t pull away. When it was your turn, you hesitated, but Wooyoung’s patient gaze encouraged you to try.

Your tongue brushed his tentatively, and for a moment, he froze. Then his hand moved to the back of your neck, steadying you as he guided the kiss, deepening it slightly.

“Like that,” he murmured when you pulled back, his voice low. “You’re doing great.”

The kisses grew longer, harder to break.

Wooyoung’s hand lingered on your neck, his fingers occasionally brushing against your hair. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, holding onto him as the tension between you thickened.

Neither of you noticed when you began leaning back, but suddenly you were lying on the bed, Wooyoung hovering over you.

“Woo,” you whispered, your chest heaving.

He pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, his dark eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t quite name. “Are we still practicing?”

You swallowed hard, unsure how to answer. Your lips tingled from his kisses, your body warm and buzzing with an unfamiliar energy. “I don’t know,” you admitted softly.

His gaze flickered to your lips, and for a moment, he seemed torn. Then he smiled—a small, almost shy smile that made your heart ache.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” he whispered.

You didn’t. And when he kissed you again, slower this time, you responded without hesitation.

The line between practice and something more blurred entirely.

Wooyoung’s kisses grew deeper, more insistent. His hand slid from your neck to your waist, his touch warm and steady as he pressed closer. Your hands, once tentative, moved to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands.

Every kiss felt like a revelation, the heat between you building until it was almost overwhelming.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your lips, his voice hoarse.

“Hmm?” you replied, too dazed to form actual words.

His lips hovered over yours, his breath warm and uneven. “We should stop.”

You nodded, but neither of you moved. His gaze dropped to your lips again, and before you could think, you were pulling him back down, your lips meeting his in another heated kiss.

Wooyoung groaned softly, the sound vibrating through you as his hand slid under your shirt, resting lightly on your waist. The weight of him above you was intoxicating, grounding you even as your head spun.

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice a mix of desperation and restraint.

“Do you want to stop?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stared at you, his lips red and swollen, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name. “No,” he admitted finally.

And just like that, the last thread of restraint snapped.

[waldau-archived]

how they take care of you — seventeen | 2,531 words | hurt/comfort, fluff

i didn't know i liked writing ot13 this much!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader is stressed out/tired/scared/ill/sad? y'know, the usual spectrum of negative human emotions?

seungcheol

gets so concerned when he hears a hitch in your voice when you greet him that he drops whatever he’s doing and rushes to you. doesn’t matter if he’s on a call or if he’s doing some important paperwork, he’s all yours now.

gives you a big, comforting hug that tries to shield you from everything but him. kisses your head to try and ground you.

doesn’t make you talk if you don’t want to, but he insists that you don’t keep it in for too long because it’s only going to hurt you in the end. lasts only for a while before asking if there's someone that needs some talking to for making you feel this sad.

tries to do anything in his power to see you smile, even if it's momentary. shows you a funny picture of his favourite child (mingyu) to cheer you up. asks if you feel okay enough to walk kkuma with him, because she needs some time with her other favourite person (you).

“you know i love you, right? that's never changing.”

jeonghan

is proud to be the person that becomes your comfort when something doesn’t go right, or when you’ve had a bad day.

immediately bottles up any jokes he’s about to make and wipes away your tears, stops only when you bat his hands away. even if he doesn’t want to let go of you, he respects your boundaries.

when you're feeling a bit better, he pulls you down into the sofa and cuddles with you, and is content whether you choose to tell him what’s on your mind, or if you want to be silent and fiddle with his shirt instead.

kisses your forehead and looks into your eyes when he promises you that it’s just one bad day, and that he’s always here for all the others. links pinkies with you because he knows how much it means to you, even if it may seem childish.

will resort to tickling you to make the last traces of your sadness vanish, and asks if there’s anything else he can do to make you smile.

joshua

comes to pick you up from work because he has a free day, and realizes something’s wrong the moment you greet him hello without even looking at his face for more than two seconds.

doesn’t make a big deal out of it, though. takes your stuff from you and greets you softly. opens the door for you and buckles your seat belt. asks you if it’s okay that he’s not taking you home first, because there’s some place else he wants to take you.

dismisses any concerns you have about not looking “good enough” to go out, because you look absolutely gorgeous at any time of the day, and he’d never lie about something like this to you. lets you choose whatever music you want as he weaves through the traffic on the streets, telling you about his day.

parks the car and gets out to hold your hand in his as he guides you over to the many stalls, asking you to pick whatever you want to eat. sits next to you on one of the benches overlooking the river, your legs swinging as you lean into his side and enjoy your meal. is glad he could take care of you like this because you needed it.

“trust me when i say whatever happened is not your fault, okay, sweetheart?”

junhui

is more confident in his actions than his words, because he can immediately notice the little changes in your behaviour: your tired smile, and the way you’re kind of curled in on yourself, as if trying to take up less space.

gives you a long hug with lots of cheek kisses and pulls you into the kitchen to show you what he’s working on: a dish that coincidentally happens to be your comfort food. it’s your favourite, especially when jun makes it in his own style.

this six foot man becomes small as he tries to do anything to make you smile. hates that you’re even feeling this way. throws random pickup lines at you to see which one gets you to crack and slap his arm and tell him to stop (he won’t, because he loves you too much).

offers to feed you dinner once it’s ready and makes random airplane noises that bring out a giggle from you. watches as you eat slowly and is glad when he sees your bowl is empty. doesn’t resist your offer of feeding him dinner once you’re done.

hides under the blankets with you and watches cat videos till your eyes shut from exhaustion and his arm hurts from holding up the phone from so long. cuddles with you and doesn’t let go even when you halfheartedly complain about how warm it is.

soonyoung

becomes so gentle that it pulls you out of your dullness a bit, makes you wonder where your usually hyperactive boyfriend is.

doesn’t baby you because he knows you don’t like it, but he makes sure you get everything you need. calls his mother to ask her the exact recipe for this soup she used to feed him when he used to get ill. stays by your side even when you have a raging fever and you’re worried he’s going to catch it if he kisses your cheek one more time.

doesn’t complain even once when you wake him up because of how uncomfortable you’re feeling. what else is he there for, if he can’t take care of the person he loves the most? wraps himself along with you in your blanket even if it’s hot enough that he can just melt.

is your hype man when you finally get better enough to start moving around the house by yourself. watches you with the biggest smile on his face that he will not tamp down when he sees you eating the soup he made, and almost cries with joy when you ask him for a second serving.

doesn’t blame you one bit when he catches the same bug a week later, because you’re there to take care of him through it, and because he loves you too much for it to be an issue.

wonwoo

gently pulls you into his chest the moment he sees your tear-streaked cheeks, and rests his head on yours. doesn’t ask you what’s wrong because he feels it’s more important to make you feel better.

doesn’t care that your tears are leaving behind a spot on his shirt, and shushes you for even pointing it out. in fact he wants you to do that so that you can run out of tears and he can take care of you properly.

gives you his hoodie to wear because it’s oversized on you, and he loves seeing you in it just as much as you love wearing it.

makes you wrap your arms around his waist from behind and cling onto him while he goes about the house finishing his share of chores. does yours without asking if he senses you’re too drained out to do them.

absolutely needs you by his side regardless of what he’s doing, whether it’s playing a game or brushing his teeth. offers to read you a book if you’re having trouble falling asleep. tells you he loves you in the lowest voice possible when he sees you finally asleep against his chest, breathing evened out.

jihoon

might not very verbal, but when it comes to you, he knows exactly what to do to make things better.

knows you’re in his studio when the door shuts, but you don’t greet him. decides to finish some edits on the song he’s working on before he turns to you, only to find you lying on the sofa facing away from him.

genuinely sad to hear you had a bad day. he got through today only because of all the encouraging texts you sent him. decides the least he can do is return the favour.

wraps you in your favourite blanket that he always keeps at the studio for when you visit. holds your hand regardless of whether you want to talk or not. offers to order food to the studio so that he can make sure you’re not hungry.

very thankful that you came to him because you were feeling down, and he very much wants to call it a day and take you home so that he can cuddle with you and make your day just a bit better.

seokmin

his mood almost always mirrors yours, so when he sees you so exhausted and down, his heart genuinely hurts.

not a confrontational person, but he’s willing to fight whatever made you sad, even if it was a table you stubbed your toe on. happy that it brings a smile to your face even if he didn’t actually fight anything.

have you seen his arms? wraps them around you till you push him off with a bit of a smile on your face. he then decides he wants to use them to bake something for you. you’re the better baker between the two of you and since he’s got loads of time today, he decides he wants to learn something that he can make the next time you’re away and he doesn’t have to feel that lonely.

is your own personal jukebox. belts out whatever song you want, and does a mini infinite aju nice in the comfort of your kitchen, making you jump while the oven works, till you’re tired and actually smiling.

“it’ll be okay, i promise. i love you.”

mingyu

hates that you had a nightmare but is thankful that he was sleeping right next to you when it happened.

the biggest cuddle bug you’ll ever see you in your life. when you wake him up with a shaky voice, he immediately blinks out of his sleep and holds you in his arms. he’ll hug you and keep hugging you till he can drain your sadness even just a little.

doesn’t matter how late it is; if you can’t go back to sleep, he’ll pull you to the kitchen and make his ramen just for you. makes you help him chop some ingredients and stir the broth so that you feel involved. keeps purposely bumping into you every time you cross paths and takes a kiss as payment.

finds some cheesy, slow music to dance to and gently pulls you all over the kitchen, twirling you and even bending you as the song ends. loves hearing your laugh when he pulls you back up.

“i hope you dream of me when you sleep again. i love you.”

minghao

words aren’t necessary when he can just take care of you the way you always deserve to be taken care of.

actually gets upset (a little) when you apologize for crying in front of him. who else will make you feel better when you’re down if not for him? makes you promise never to feel nervous to be emotional around him.

runs a bath for you and makes your favourite food. when you’re done with dinner and feeling a bit better, he takes you to bed and cuddles with you, wanting you to focus on his breathing so you can calm yourself. he whispers endearments into your ear. also makes sure you know how proud he is of you for getting through today.

would give you the entire world if he could, but when you tell him the only thing you want is him, he promises you he’s never going anywhere, no matter what happens.

“i’m so lucky to call myself yours, my love. always.”

seungkwan

he can never stand seeing his loved ones sad, so when he sees you, he needs to find a way to make your smile get back to your face.

sees your lips wobble when you say hello to him, and he eventually coaxes the issue out of you: your friends had ditched a get-together you’d been planning at the last minute, and they didn’t even have the decency to apologize for it. he feels extremely angry on your behalf and is ready to curse. doesn’t do it only because it won’t help you.

thinks about what he can do to make you happy. asks if he can take you out on a drive tonight so you can watch the stars with him. when you regretfully decline the offer, he asks if you want to create a blanket fort and watch movies or go to sleep.

it’s not long before he’s constructing a blanket fort for the first time in his life thanks to some youtube tutorials. he’s upset when it collapses right in the middle of constructing it, but he realizes he’d build it a hundred times more if it meant you’d laugh the way you just did.

sets up snacks and your favourite drinks after a while. keeps apologizing to you on behalf of your so-called friends till you tell him to stop. promises that he’s always going to be with you, and that you don’t have to be sad when you’re with him. falls asleep with you in his arms, and a smile on your face, snacks and movies forgotten.

hansol

feels bad the moment he sees you try to mask the sadness on your face with a smile.

better with actions than words, so he kisses your forehead and trails you around the house while you try to relax from the day you had. if you’re really sad, he lets you just rest your head against his collarbone and breathe till you feel better.

“you’ve got this, and you’ve got me, okay? i’m right here.”

has a bunch of handmade coupons for whenever you feel sad. each coupon has the same four options: eat, talk, watch a movie, sleep. does whatever you choose, whether it’s only one or all four.

another one who has no problem with prolonged eye contact. he looks at you till you understand that he loves you more than he can say and that he’s always there for you when you feel like this.

chan

always used to being babied by his older brothers, so he feels happy to get a chance to take care of you. just doesn’t like the fact that you’re sad, because you deserve to be anything but.

very transparent with his affection for you. he whispers “i love you” into your hair when you ask him for a hug, shouts it across the living room when you come out to get some water, and holds your hand under the table during dinner even if it’s inconvenient.

if you’re really down, and don’t feel like talking, he bundles you into a blanket and puts you on the sofa and sits close to you, so that you have your space but he’s close enough if you need him.

sits with you while you work and watches intently even if he doesn’t understand much of what you’re doing. ready to go to the store and get you anything you’re craving, regardless of how late it is.

“i love looking after you, okay? don’t ever feel bad about telling me what’s troubling you.”

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