#her not being around is just Not Right at all

[kurooh]

★ MAKE HER TAPOUT ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, ino takuma, fushiguro toji, & kamo choso fucking you till one of you gives out, or not!

warnings: 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, creampies, gentle choking, cunnilingus, facesitting, backshots, overstimulation, jet sex, dirty talk, talking him thru it (ino), brief edging, filming.

xoxo, juno: SHES BACKKK 😝

GOJO SATORU # neither, it’s a competition

“aw, sweetheart,” satoru reaches up to thumb away an involuntary tear from your cheek, “you cryin’?”

“no,” you sniffle, and the shake of your voice betrays you. “o-of course not, satoru.”

mirth sparkles in his diamond blue eyes and he hums contentedly, as if he’s pretending to believe you. but of course he is—right now, he has to.

god, you were dumb enough to challenge him once he’d riled you up, and now you’re paying the price. a persistent burn courses through the muscles of your thighs, the exhaustion more than palpable now that you’ve been bouncing on his dick for so long. a messy puddle of cum has pooled around the base of his cock and sticks to your skin each time you sink down, serving as a constant reminder of how long it’s been.

normally, satoru would laugh in your face, then help you fuck him, but he’s choosing to be quiet because seeing you struggle is even more entertaining.

“you don’t have to lie, baby,” he squeezes your hips, allowing his eyes to trace the curves and slopes of your body, to commit them to his long term memory. “y’know, i love watching you ride me. it’s just . . oh, never mind.”

aggressively, you wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare down at him with dewy eyes. even when you’re crumbling into pieces, you manage to remain angry at him. “say it, satoru.”

an irritating smile splits across his face and he bounces his hips up just as you move down, just to punch a gasp out of your lungs. “‘s just that you were so fast earlier, now it seems like you’re struggling after all that talk.”

his cheeks are scarlet and growing darker as something triumphant basks him in its glow. you push at his chest and grind on him more insistently, even though the stimulation feels like bolts of electricity on your sensitive clit. “f-fine, is that what you want? for me to prove myself?”

“maybe.”

satoru watches smugly as you up the pace of your hips, repeatedly slamming down on his cock until you’re ready to give up. he grabs at your soft tits, and pinches at your perked nipples meanly, enjoying the way your cunt spasms around him.

a few tears race down your cheeks, and you glare weakly at him, not yet ready to admit defeat.

“my girl’s so pretty,” satoru whispers, harsh as he rolls your tender nipples between his fingers, “doesn’t she know when it’s time to give up?”

“shut up,” you groan, lower lip wobbling pathetically. this struggling is a hundred times better than being pressed into the mattress and fucked senselessly. “just be quiet, toru, stop running your mouth.”

“me? running my mouth?” he sounds taken aback, mouth agape as he regards you with a offended expression that settles across his flushed features. “sweetheart, please. look at you—”

not too firmly, you wrap your hands around his throat. just the sight has a new kind of arousal flaring inside your body, one that makes your clit feel incredibly sensitive after a single grind of it into his pelvis.

“you’re talking too much,” you hum, voice a little singsongy now that the tables have been turned, “can’t you just let me have this?”

satoru quirks an eyebrow, still challenging you despite blushing darker. “y-you’ve got some serious nerve,” he pants, voice coming out weaker than he’d like it to, “just fuckin’ wait—”

now it’s your turn to rile him up. “whatever,” you roll your eyes, the tips of your nails lightly digging into his soft skin. “maybe if you shut your mouth, i could let you go.”

“oh, you know that’ll never happen,” satoru scoffs quickly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to let go just yet. “you just focus on showin’ me what you’re made of. if you can.”

GETO SUGURU # you ‘tap’ out

when you’d invited geto to make a guest cameo on your onlyfans, you didn’t expect him to pull out all the stops to show you off . .

you wail pathetically, each and every one of your limbs feeling like jelly now. the consistent smacks of his hips into your ass bounces off the walls and only adds to the cacophony in the room—suguru has practically destroyed your pussy, his thick cock reducing it into a wet mess that squeezes him involuntarily whenever he makes noise.

“shit,” his chest heaves behind you, and he flicks his bangs away from his eyes to squint at your phone, “don’t cha look so pretty with me inside, sweetheart? come on, don’t make me lift you up.”

weakly, with as much strength as you can muster, you raise your head to blearily look at your phone screen. it’s constantly lighting up with new, colorful messages in the stream and rather generous donations—suguru has helped you pull in hundreds more than a solo live would’ve.

-> kchomo: she’s beautiful!

-> tfushoji: pussy made of steel

“s-sugu, ah—‘m still a little sensitive,” you struggle to gasp out, each deliberate plunge of his cock punching the words out of you. before you look into your reflection to confirm your suspicions, you already know he’s got a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“that’s even better,” he coos, smacking your ass and slipping his hands beneath your hips. “i’m sure everyone’s, ngh, enjoying the show . . but god, who wouldn’t, especially with a face ‘n body like that?”

suguru groans as he drags you up, positioning you to take his cock at an impossibly deeper angle. you choke on your own drool, hands slipping off of the floor as he moves you however he pleases.

“p-put me down!” you squeak awkwardly, feeling previous loads of cum race down your inner thighs in creamy rivulets, “what’re you—”

“jus’ giving them one last show before it’s time for me to take a bow,” his pierced tongue darts out to lick the sweat glistening at his cupid’s bow. “think you can take it? again?”

it’s more of a challenge rather than a request.

even though you’re spent and dizzy from the scent of sex as well as the feel of it, you’re ready to push through. after all, how long has it been since you’ve ever been fucked this good?

“bring it on, suguru,” and you don’t regret it for a second, until his nails claw at your skin when he steadies himself inside you, gearing up to go out with a bang.

“that’s my girl,” your eyes roll back into your head when he develops a pace right out of the gates, all too eager for someone who’s covered your back in cum more than a few times. “fuck, she’s so good. takes a fuckin’ dick like it’s nobody’s business.”

“‘m supposed to—oh my god, right there—be a pro..professional.”

a professional pornstar? more like a fancier way of saying you’re a hungry slut—but suguru doesn’t give a damn, not when you’re sucking him deeper and throbbing around him, almost synced up with the frantic pounding of his heart.

“riiight there, huh?” he can’t help but tease, voice taking on a mocking tone that seems to make the room burn a few degrees hotter, “is this where you want me, sweetheart? all up in this pretty lil tummy?”

oh, he even splays his fingers across your stomach and digs his heel into the soft spot above your pelvis, a move he’d familiarized himself with after combing through your account. for lack of a well formed verbal response, you nod your head, lips parting around breathless moans and pleas. “fuck yes, sugu. i need it, i need more.”

wispy black hairs cling to his forehead, held in place by sweat instead of their usual tight bun. since he’d stepped into your room and greeted your audience, suguru had become quite disheveled, and the thought of complaining never crossed his mind. no, he’d been too lost in you, his longtime porn crush whose page he checked almost daily—he feels his eyes squeeze shut when you cry out his name so loudly your throat will be sore tomorrow.

“oh god, suguru,” you’re entirely limp in his grasp and powerless to the wet squelches of your cunt as he rearranges your insides, “i think i’m gonna fuckin’ cum soon, ‘m so close.”

-> satojo: HELL YES

-> brattybunnny: the way he holds her >>

-> juiceboxbussy: im crying they’re so hot

ecstasy shoots through your veins like electricity, and suguru’s ability to hold back crumbles into nothing when you start to throw your ass back onto him. it’s something that derails the pace he’s set and the plans he had, but you deserve to be spoiled. honestly, after this live, you’ll definitely be inviting him on more often.

like a boat’s propellers, your feet kick out into the air and your toes curl as the tsunami wave of it all starts to crash over you. “i’m—sugu, ‘m gonna fucking cum!”

“all over my cock, baby,” suguru groans, too lost in your pussy to feel the beads of sweat racing down his temples or the burn of exhaustion settling into his muscles, “let—let me feel it.”

so you do, abruptly creaming all over his cock with an obscene whine that tears out of your throat and blesses the ears of every member of the audience. he’s finally able to let go as you’re coming down, pulsing cunt milking him of every drop he can possibly offer.

suguru nearly collapses on top of you once his empty balls clench, but you’re already struggling to hold yourself up without his help. the donations are much more luxurious now that the audience can get better views of your blissed out face and his matching reddened expression.

“let’s start saying goodbye,” he suggests, wincing as he pulls out of you. the air is hot, but it feels like the arctic outside of you—well, at least he can watch the deluge of cum spill out from between your thighs. you’ll be leaking for hours, and some kind of nasty pride swells in his chest at the thought of it. “honey, c’mon. gotta get cleaned up.”

-> satojo donated $150

-> thukuna donated $200 and said: js busted a nut

-> brattybunnny: i know that dick was good asf

-> juiceboxbussy: girl she’s knocked out 😭

NANAMI KENTO # you tap out

“ken,” you gasp just as the thud of a loaded suitcase resonates through the entire jet. the flight crew’s busy loading up what’s supposed to be an empty corporate jet, while kento’s associates busy themselves with odd tasks he’s doled out to them. “but the seats—”

“can be replaced,” he huffs irritably, not liking the fact that you’re busying yourself with pointless worrying over the seats. “sit down, honey.”

“i know that,” nervously, you glance toward the front of the jet, scanning your surroundings to make sure nobody’s coming in. “i, um, don’t want to make a mess before everyone comes in. i mean, what if you get fired because of it?”

as you ramble, you’re unconsciously pulling away from your seat on his face. kento’s gold wedding band catches the light of the sun as he immediately grabs your thighs, yanking you back where he wants you. his patience is wearing thin and if you don’t sit on his face right now, god help him—he’ll start thinking about devouring you in front of his co-workers.

“ah! kento, i don’t think this is a—” you’re powerless now; with his strong arms locked around your legs, there’s no way you can escape. it’s so risky, so dangerous—but the fear quickly boils into arousal that pools like magma in your belly.

happily suffocating beneath you, kento can’t help but smile when he starts to slurp at your messy cunt. it’s obscene, the noises he makes—smacking his lips like he just can’t get enough, grunting as that familiar sweetness settles on his tongue.

your breath hitches in your throat. “k-kennn, baby, you feel so good—but, oh, we don’t have a lot of time.”

for one painful moment, he lifts you up and stares at you with nothing but hunger in his eyes. “remind me about that one more time,” low and menacing, the sound of his voice makes your pussy squeeze in anticipation. “let me enjoy my meal in peace, honey.”

with that, kento firmly sits you on his face once more, and resumes his impatient lapping. his tongue is both soft and rough, forcing a stream of uncontrollable moans out of you. his nose presses into your clit and makes every sensation hit you harder, leaving you a hot mess atop his face.

“move those hips for me,” he lets out a muffled groan, and his eyes roll back once he feels you comply. desperate as ever, you start to rock your hips into him at an unsteady pace—the shaking and trembling of your body throws you off course.

“ngh, like this?” kento’s ears seem to perk once he detects that current of hesitancy in your voice. it’s so cute, the way you’re seeking his praise; his cock twitches in his pants, buried under layers of fabric.

“just like that, angel,” he gasps for breath before going back in—this time, kento starts to sloppily make out with your pussy. his tongue pushes inside and flicks around, experimentally going deeper while he kisses at your folds.

“oh my god,” the words are a euphoric exclamation, the kind that comes before an earth shattering orgasm—but then it suddenly switches into panic. “oh my god, kento! y-you’ve gotta stop now, your co-workers, they’re—fuck, they just got here!”

kento’s never been one to allow himself to be rushed. your orgasm, you falling apart on his face—it is much more important than his damn co-workers. he’s made you cum fast before and he can do it again. despite your thrashing, he holds you down against him and amps everything up until you start to sob out his name, choking on each syllable.

“they’re gonna get on the plane,” you sniffle, finally accepting your fate. the leather seats will be soaking wet by the time everyone boards, but there’s nothing else you can do but cum. “ken, ‘m really getting close, ngh.”

you nearly lock eyes with one of his coworkers when all your muscles pull taut and bliss bursts out like fireworks in your body. oh, and out of it too—before you can register what’s going on, cum gushes from your pussy and squirts like rain all over his face. of course, kento drinks in every drop, careful not to waste even one.

your jaw’s hanging open as he licks you straight through your high, greedy as ever so he can purposefully make you squeal. kento’s grip on you loosens and he smirks when you scramble off of him, squeezing your thighs together as your body heaves for breath.

“oh, look at that,” he cheerfully glances down at the leather seats, “you didn’t get anything wet, sweetheart.” except for him, of course.

then, out the window. “those aren’t my coworkers, angel. they’re marshals to guide the jet,” slowly, he turns toward you, eyeing your sticky thighs—rather, what’s between them. “no need to quit so soon, hm? tell me what you want.”

INO TAKUMA # he ultimately taps out

takuma’s more than lost in your pussy—he’s too far in to pull out even if he tried. it always happens so fast, too; from the moment you put it in he nearly goes cross-eyed and tries to think of anything that could help him not to cum. it’s so difficult, though, especially when you’re purposefully squeezing down on him and using your oh so soft hands to urge him closer.

he’s done for.

“takuma, are you—ah—are you okay?” before he could realize what was happening, takuma had instinctively begun to jackhammer his hips into yours. “oh my—mmm, you’re fucking me so well.”

“yeah?” he pants out, fingers scrabbling at your ankle to pull you closer, “g-give yourself some credit too, baby, you’re the one taking it like you were made to.”

it’s just how he is, always stuttering back a compliment whenever you talk to him. a breathy chuckle passes through your lips and is immediately followed by a saccharine moan of his name, a sound that echoes in his head and shoots straight to his twitching dick.

“it’s so hard,” he gasps, feeling an inevitable tingle in his nose and behind his eyes, “so hard to keep it together when you’re lookin’ at me like that. shit, babe, you’re gonna kill me.”

each word grows more frantic with every pleased moan that leaves your lips, and takuma’s gotta force himself to focus on something else. he’d been taught to cum with or after you, a rule ingrained into him that even applies when he’s jerking off.

the tinkling of your anklet near his ear serves as the perfect distraction, until it suddenly reminds him of the sexy position he’s fucking you in. with one leg over his shoulder and the other kicking on the bed, takuma’s cock is able to push deep, into spots you can’t even reach with your fingers.

your chest rises and falls rapidly, plump tits jiggling from all the movement, and his face crumples when you shakily press them down. “‘m gonna cum,” you wheeze, arousal burning like fire through your entire body, “you’re suuuch a good boy, takuma, feels so g-good.”

“don’t say that,” takuma’s pleading with you, shaking his head frantically as his cock starts to throb, “don’t, you’re—hah—gonna make me cum too fast.”

“why not at the same time, honey?” your free leg starts to circle around his waist, drawing him in without leaving an opening for him to escape. “c’mon, takuma, ‘m all yours. just f-fill me up.”

this is an offer he can’t refuse, a ball he absolutely cannot drop—the shakes of his head turn into frantic nods as he accepts, scooping you up to pull you just a few inches closer before he falls off the edge. he’s the cutest, trembling above you and babbling out breathless sweet nothings.

you cum hard on his cock, digging your heel into his lower back as you reach your high. it tears through you and leaves you dizzy, shaking like a leaf beneath his strong body. takuma, on the other hand, is so lost in you that he’s tucked his face into your neck and gasps into your skin. everything is inaudible until he lets out a hushed whine, “ngh, mommy.”

“mmm, takuma,” your nails rake down his shoulders, leaving long red stripes he’ll be proud of when he looks into the mirror. “what was that?”

takuma closes his eyes against you and swallows against the shockwaves of bliss as he empties his balls against your cervix. “h-huh, baby?”

FUSHIGURO TOJI # you will tap out

toji’s unstoppable—once you’re on all fours and throwing your ass back on him, don’t expect to be able to walk without being carried for the next two hours.

“oh my god,” you sob out desperately, voice cracking when you try to speak, “t-toji, it’s—ngh, ‘s too much, i can’t—” 

“doll, be for real,” toji snickers, almost out of breath. it’s been so long you can’t even feel your legs anymore, and he presses his large hands onto your squirming hips as if he’s trying to indent his touch into you forever. “you can take it. ya wanna cum, don’t cha?”

weakly, you look over your shoulder just in time to catch the wolfish grin on his face and the gleam of his pearly whites. his dark gaze scours your body hungrily, as if he’s on the hunt for something plump to sink his teeth into. sweat glistens on his chest, salt settled in the hard lines of muscle that define his body and showcase his strength. “if ya hadn’t been so fuckin’ impatient, i’d have made you cum earlier. but noooo, jus’ wanted to be all dumb, huh?”

“‘m sorry,” a scream nearly tears from your throat after another agonizing thrust of his powerful hips—his tip hits the soft, cushy spot deep inside of your cunt that always has you seeing stars. “toji! i didn’t mean to be a—fuck—a brat, i only wanted—”

“blah blah blah,” he groans, targeting your sweet spot with sharp, deliberate thrusts that make your eyes roll back into your skull. “jus’ shut up, baby. keep talkin’ and i’ll leave ya high ‘n dry.”

it sounds horrible—horrible enough for you to snap your mouth shut and just focus on taking his cock even though your hips occasionally jerk to the side. toji’s dick is huge, long and thick and unbelievably easy to go dumb on. your fingers twitch in the sheets, aching to scratch the lustful itch that torments your swollen clit; but toji won’t let you, not until he wants you to cum.

a long cry of frustration is released into the bed, and the corners of his lips quirk up in amusement. “aw, is it gettin’ to be too much for ya?” he croons, landing a few stinging smacks on your sore ass, “hope you’re not tapping out before i let ya cum, doll.”

“i said i was sorry,” bitterly, the words rush out. “w-why can’t i fucking cum, toji?”

a low wolf whistle trills out into the air. “because you like edging, nasty girl. did i fuck ya dumb enough for you to forget that ya asked me to do this shit to you, huh?”

that’s right. you had asked him to starve you of the euphoria briefly, but now it’s well past the limit. yes, fushiguro toji was no stranger to pushing limits—transcending physical thresholds to build his body into your favorite temple to worship—so naturally, he’s started to train you to do the same.

“that’s not fair,” you whine, feeling the tears building in your eyes, “haa, i’m so close.”

“don’t you dare,” toji hisses, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling you back easily. “you can wait one more minute.”

he’s cruel, going so far as to rub your clit with his rough fingers to make you waver as you wait for the tortuous minute to pass. heat burns across every inch of your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake—it’s impossible not to start trembling, teeth chattering as you try to fight off the unescapable high that only seems to move faster toward you. 

“please,” you’re arching all over, nearly collapsing onto your stomach, but he’s got you right where he wants you. “h-hurry up, toji, i can’t hold it anymore—shit!”

“three fuckin’ seconds,” he grunts, the clapping of skin against skin growing louder as the seconds fly by. “‘kay, princess. go ahead and cum alllll over this dick f’me.”

you fall apart on his cock before he can even finish his sentence, cunt clenching hard enough to push him out as you fall forward onto the mattress. the smallest amount of cum squirts from your pussy, and that’s when he realizes he’s not quite done with you yet. toji licks his lips as he watches you writhe, settling onto his stomach to torture you all the more. 

“toji!” you can’t help but squeal when he grabs hold of your hips and licks at your overly sensitive clit, his dark eyes rolling back when he feels your pussy twitching against his tongue. “ugh, wait, ‘m not ready for—”

“ya wanted to cum so bad, didn’t ya? so lay back for me, doll.”

KAMO CHOSO # can’t stop, won’t stop

“hah, ‘m sorry,” choso borderline sobs when he delivers another sloppy, trembling thrust deep into your cunt. you’re folded up and blurry beneath him, all because he can’t seem to control the onslaught of crystalline tears that pool in his eyes. “baby, it’s—you just feel so g-gooddd.”

rampant apologies run out from his mouth, but they never quite land, always fading into nothing by the time he finishes the sentence. it’s not like he means a single one, especially when he can’t stop rutting his hips into yours, chasing both of your highs.

“don’t—mmm, fuck,” you curse when the tip of choso’s cock kisses your cervix, sending a brief sting of both pain and pleasure through your nerves, “don’t worry about it, cho, ‘s okay.”

tears race down his pink cheeks as more build in his eyes, despite his frantic attempts to blink them away. “i jus’ can’t stop, you—you feel too fucking good.”

a wave of heat crashes through him when he sees your eyes roll back, legs squeezing around his slim waist in order to keep him inside you. you’re as eager for his cum as he is to give it to you, along with a final orgasm of your own. his cock may be purple with overstimulation by now, but how could that possibly matter when you’re on the brink of bursting at the seams all over him?

choso chokes on a moan and fucks you harder, ignoring the annoying beads of sweat that roll down his temples and paste his hair down to his skin. even in the middle of winter, just the two of you are able to heat the house up as easily as a furnace could.

“oh my—fuck,” your voice breaks when you try to speak, looking deliciously dazed when your bleary eyes finally focus on his own, “y-you’re gonna make me cum again, cho, if you keep that pace—”

“fuckin’ give it to me,” choso begs, raspy voice edged with the intensity of ecstasy roaring through him, “jus’ one more time, just one more, we can—we can cum together, baby.”

he’s hiccuping over his words and losing control faster now that your hand’s tangled in his hair and pulling the way he likes. it stings, but he’d be out of his right mind if he asked you to stop—so instead, “harder, please.. ugh, just like that.”

“you’re such a freak,” you pant out, although you sound more than pleased to yank on his hair, “don’t tell me you’ll cum just from this?”

he swallows a lump in his throat and presses a hand to your lower belly, feeling around for himself, and soon enough, he’s able to feel the distinct swell of his cock inside of you.

“only if you cum all over me,” choso’s already delirious, mind full of thoughts of another orgasm even after this one. with you, he’s learned to control his refractory period, shortening it down to a mere two minutes that he tends to spend between your thighs. “please, you have to let me feel you, baby, it’s the only way—!”

“yeah? oh, are you gonna f-fill me up again?” heat floods your cheeks as your voice becomes more breathy, growing weak now that you’re hurtling toward your own high. “oh my god, ‘s like you’re trying to knock me up.”

something wild flashes across his face and takes place as a flickering movie behind his eyes. he has to pause, momentarily caught up in the idea of getting you pregnant. there’s something about the idea of your swollen belly and babies that really ignites a flame in the half curse—perhaps it’s all the more attractive because there’s a good chance he’s infertile.

“oh, fuck,” he sobs desperately, vision blurring with tears and his thoughts, “‘m cumming—ugh, ‘s all yours, angel, ‘m only yours.”

even as choso’s spilling white inside of you, his stuttering hips don’t stop once. now, he’s got a goal and he intends to achieve it, regardless of your cries of sensitivity. “slow down,” you whine, out of breath. “ch-choso, wait a second—it’s too much!”

“it’s not enough,” he grunts, shaking as he bulldozes through his own oversensitivity, “i’m not done, i have to—i need to put a baby in you.”

“i’m sure there’s five, choso, i need to take a second to bre—”

“just one more, i need to make sure. it has to happen, ‘m almost there. hold on for me, angel, please, i just have to make sure.”

[mywritersmind]

THIGH HIGHS - LN4

summary : In which Lando likes thigh high socks and his best friends sister far too much.

listen up : my first time writing full smut… oral, swearing, p in v, teasing, age gap!! fewtrell!youngersister!!

words : 1610

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Lando knew to stay in Max’s room. He was told explicitly to stay put. But Lando has never been good at following directions.

The loud bang in the kitchen was what broke him. He walked down the hall, praying it was Max’s cat or maybe P came home early!

It was not.

Lando mentally swore at the sight. She stood on her toes, trying to reach a mug that was too high. One hand was braced on the counter as her foot popped up. Lando looked at the counter, ceramic pieces shattered on it which explained the loud noise.

He should turn away. He would have, if not for her little squeal as she finally got her fingers on a mug and hopped off the counter, looking directly at him.

It wasn’t her slow blink or the sight of her in a thin oversized shirt… though both those things had Lando close to losing it, It was her socks.

Thigh high, too tight, stark white… socks.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were here.” She smiles softly, turning around and bopping back to the kitchen island to finish her drink making.

She’s lying. Him Max Fewtrell were her teachers growing up, Lando sees right through her.

He clears his throat, “Uh yeah… I could say the same for you.”

She shoots him a small smile before looking back at her mug, the kitchen now filled with the familiar smell of hot chocolate. “Want a cup?” She asks, dipping the spoon in her mouth and slowly pulling it out.

He mindlessly sits across from her as she moves around the kitchen to make more, her hair bouncing behind her.

His eyes were glued to her as she slid around in those bloody socks. They were the same socks she wore all throughout highschool with her prissy little skirt and uniform top.

The same socks that she would flaunt as she draped her legs over the couch while Lando and Max were playing video games.

Lando knew she was in college now but that didn’t make the sight, or his thoughts, any better.

The completion of her outfit, a thin shirt that dipped right above the socks and made it clear that she wasn’t wearing a bra, did not help.

She slides a mug to him, smiling in that sweet and innocent way she always has. “Tell me if you like it. It’s a new recipe.” She sips her hot chocolate at the same time as Lando, her lipgloss being left as a kiss on the ceramic.

Lando nods, “It’s really fucking good.”

This makes her grin grow, biting her bottom lip to restrain herself, “Good. So, what are you doing here?”

Lando quirks a brow, “Max and I are filming later.”

She nods slowly, “Right…”

“Well what are you doing here?” He raises a brow, bringing the mug to his lips again.

“I’m on spring break.”

“And you’re spending it with your brother?”

“I just got back from cabo…” She says as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Her tan did hint at it though. “I go back tomorrow though.”

“Ah, uni… how’s that going for ya?” He leans back in his chair as she backs up against the countertop.

“Great. Minus the guys.” She sighs purposefully, looking around the room. “How’s the whole F1 thing?”

He smiles at her tone, nodding, “Good.”

“You know! It’s funny… Max gets to go all the time, yet I'm never invited.” She pouts, crossing her legs.

“You never ask.” He makes a point to look at her in the eyes when saying it.

“I’m asking now.” Something about her voice screams DONT CROSS! DANGER! GO BACK! But Lando just sits up straighter.

“Fine then, come to australia.”

She finishes her drink, hopping up on the counter so her head is hitting the cabinets now. Lando sucks in a breath as she looks at him, “Only if I get to stay in your room.”

Christ he might just fall off this bloody chair.

“Stop that.” Lando shakes his head, leaning back in his chair and gripping his mug a little too tight.

“Stop what?” She smirks, completely mischievous and faking innocence.

“Being a little shit.”

She scoffs, jokingly. Putting a hand on her chest and frowning, “You wound me, Lan.”

“You not getting enough attention at school? Guys don’t fall at your feet everywhere you go?” It’s bad but the most he can do to stop his words is a mental slap on his face.

“They do… You’re just more fun to play with.”

“I’m too old for you.”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t think it’s hot. Five years isn’t even that bad- Would it make you feel better if I said I’ve gotten with a fourt-”

“No!” He stops her, standing up and washing out his cup to busy himself, “It’s not just the age thing.”

“So you’d get with me if I wasn’t your best friend's sister?” He turns to look at her, her legs squeezed together and practically begging to be touched.

“I didn’t say that.”

Her shirt is riding up her thighs more and it makes Lando’s stomach drop. He licks his lips as she looks at him, “Lan.” she practically whines, “I need someone experienced.”

He shakes his head, his eyes still on her body as she rubs her thighs together, “I haven’t orgasmed in forever… at least, not from a guy.” He lets out a little sigh, walking closer.

“You can touch me.” She looks up at him, her eyes full of lust as the tightness in his pants grows.

“I shouldn’t.” He braces himself on either side of her.

“Then I'll touch myself.” It’s almost a whisper, but definitely a promise. She slips her hand under her shirt, making it pool around her thighs and teasing her cotton underwear.

Lando thinks he might be dreaming as she slips her hand into her panties, her breathing picking up as she leans her head back.

“Lan…” she whimpers, “Feels so good…” she locks eyes with him, his mouth slightly open as he watches her.

He watches her fingers move under the fabric, dipping farther as her moans grow louder. His hands slide from the marble to her thighs, just the outsides in an attempt to control himself.

He’s rock solid now, his hands gripping her legs and feeling the smooth fabric under his fingers. Her nipples are hard and poking through her shirt. Her eyes meet his again as he breathes harder, her hand slowly pulls away, dripping.

She’s holding it in front of his face, inching closer just for him to take her fingers in his mouth. She’s smirking wickedly as he sucks. “Good boy.” she whispers.

Her fingers leave his mouth with a ‘pop’ and just as he goes in to kiss her, she shakes her head and slips her hand into his hair, pushing down.

He watches her eyes as he dips down, pulling down her panties and replacing them with his tongue. She moans, loudly, at the contact.

Every doubt either of them had is gone now, replaced with pleasure and pure need.

She grips his hair as his hands hold her in place, his mouth sucking and linking as one of his hands moves up her shirt, grabbing her tit and making her moan louder.

Lando was in heaven, fucking her with his tongue and listening to her moan under his touch. That is, until she pulled him back up.

“Fewtrell.” He growled, neither of them done.

She pulled him closer, kissing him finally. She bites his lip a bit as he grinds into her, his hard length begging for attention. “Someone’s needy.” She teases as he kisses her harder, his tongue exploring her mouth while he fingers the top of her socks.

“Please.” He’s pretty sure it’s the first time he’s begged a girl for something.

“Please what?” Her breath is hot against his, “Use your words.”

“Let me fuck you.”

This satisfies her, a cheeky smile meeting him as his hands slowly pull off her shirt.

Her nipples are hard when he takes one into his mouth, her head falling back as he runs his tongue over it.

She reaches down and skillfully unzips his pants, moving her hand over his hard clothed dick. He’s throbbing, so sensitive to the touch he’s been waiting for.

“This for me?” She whispers as his head falls on her shoulder, her hand moving back and forth. He nods, unable to speak as she palms him.

He pulls off his pants and boxers, not even caring to get them off his legs before he lines up to her. “I don’t want you to regret this.” He whispers, out of breath and fully blinded by lust, but not stupid.

She looks straight into his eyes, “Fuck me, Lando.”

So he does, pushing into her and almost losing it straight away. He goes slow at first, watching her mouth shake and her head fall back. She grabs onto his shoulder, moaning loudly in the kitchen that’s neither of theirs.

“You’re so fucking hot.” She moans as he thrusts into her, biting her shoulder and kissing her neck, “Yes!”

He whimpers as she tightens around him, wanting to give her the one thing idiot college guys can’t.

She cums in a rush of heated breaths and her nails dragging over Lando’s skin. He cums seconds later on those snow white thigh highs.

He falls against her in a slump, her heart beating fast against him. She’s smiling still, running her hands through Lando’s curls and saying, “I’m definitely coming to australia.”

[norikuna]

★ 🐚 🫧 GONNA' MATCH MY FREAK? jujutsu kaisen. 呪術廻戦.

prologue ⋆ ★ getting down and nasty with some fine men? yes, please.

pairings ⋆ ★ sukuna, toji, geto, hajime, choso, gojo genre tags & warnings ⋆ ★ afab/she+her!reader, making it fít, trueform!sukuna, against a wall, créampíe, bréeding, ríding, temple séx, mild mention of smoking (geto), unintentional public séx, óral (f), inappropriate use of jujutsu (electricity), backshóts, mentions of voyéurísm

word count ⋆ ★ 5.1k a/n ⋆ ★ going thru it 😝 was gonna add noritoshi kamo because he's my #bias #ult but i wasn't sure how to write him yet...

RYOMEN SUKUNA ៹ the king of curses

"now yer' just being stubborn," the blush-haired demon is grousing, dark nails clawing at the bare juncture of your hip, as though he's trying not to let his gaze leer downwards. to linger where your bare cunt is straddling over both his tattooed cocks. hefty, and weighty against the meat of your thigh.

"i can take them, 'kuna, know i can," and it's got sukuna sighing at your stubborn nature, as though he's not already being plagued by the most delightful visions of you swaying those delightfuls hips as both his tips swab at your entrance. oouh, tempting, tempting indeed.

you're already getting ahead of yourself, positioning your leaking folds over the first cock, the one stacked on top of the other, letting the fat tip snag at your gummy walls, and fuck, sukuna genuinely fears he may just be in love when you give him those insufferable, pleading doe eyes, "can y'help me fit them in, 'kuna?"

oh, can he ever. sukuna's ducking his face into the crook of your neck, nipping at the shell of your ear, so you can't see the warm flush painting his cheeks, hands heavy on your waist as he gently props you up, two arms wrapped in coils around your torso, and two softly positioned underneath your shaking thighs.

slowly, carefully, lowering you down. angling you just right, so your cunt eagerly begins to swallow him up. slick already drooling and painting treacly strands over his cock, trickling down to the base of thick, curled pink hair that gathers at his groin.

"haahh," you're sighing, lips parting in a way that makes sukuna feel like someone just hit him with a shovel, dumbfounded at the sight of you, only you, "bigger than i thought, 'kuna."

and the king of curses won't admit in, no, he's loathe to lower himself thus, but his heart (and his cocks) only swell at the praise, the knowledge that you're still just so eager to take him, to ride him on his throne, his kimono opened bare across your pretty form so he can lave sharp, stinging kisses over your chest.

"t-taking it so well," sukuna bites out, doing his best to fight the crack in his gruff tone, for the sake of his dignity. or at least, that's what he tells himself, never mind at how he feels lightheaded from the way your cunt is almost kissing the base of his cocks now, and the sound is absolutely filthy, echoing through out the empty hall. all damp sloshes of pre that's leaving smears over your innermost walls.

he has to focus over the buzzing in his ears to catch your sweet words, a hand coming to rest on the back of your head, tilting you closer to him, "mhm, yer' sayin' something?"

you're nodding, breathless and hazy, steadying yourself now in his lap, groping at the little divot that's already formed where his tip(s) now lie, "does it feel g-good for you?"

sukuna stares at you, half-clouded with the tight heat of your pretty, swollen pussy swallowing him up, "what?"

you're pawing at his chest, nails digging into hardened skin, grazing over dark tattoos that have lasted a millennia, "wanna know if 'm making y-you feel good, 'kuna."

oh, he's in love with you. ryomen sukuna is absolutely, foolishly, pathetically head-over-heels for you. his pretty, little woman that's balanced on his hips, rocking yourself back and forth to feel that glorious friction against your sweet spot.

ugh, fine. just this once. dignity be damned, for he's got you.

a large hand cups your jaw, resting against the curve of your neck, as crimson eyes bore into you, "you are what i want, brat," and sukuna means it, planting a heavy kiss against your lips, "just you, just like this. couldn't be b-better."

"you're getting soft." gentle, teasing as you watch watercolour flush paint pretty pink over sukuna's handsome features. for someone who fancies themselves a rather stoic king of curses, a fearsome sorcerer that can command life and death, he does a poor job of hiding how just how much you undo him.

a low grumble erupts from sukuna, gripping at your hips, pulling you closer to him in a way that you feel his cocks jostle within you, brushing against that sweet, sweet spot, "careful, there. don't wanna' break m'favourite human." yeah, you know that idle threats means that you've really got him blushing.

TOJI FUSHIGURO ៹ the sorcerer killer

"heh, thought you said we were gon' get on the job," toji's guffawing even, but that smug expression quickly flitters away when your wandering, wanting hands are feeling him up. gripping at his pectoral muscles that strain against his black, tight top.

"we are on the job," you fiercely gasp against his mouth, feeling that rough scar twitch against your skin, "jus' need you, that's all."

you can see stone-green eyes flick upwards, heightened senses scanning for any intruders, any unwanted peepers to this show that he's about to put on, before kicking the rusted, weathered steel door closed. sealing you in this storage closet with him.

"so," toji simpers, and you know better than to trust the faux-concern on the assassin's face, "what does she need help with?" large hands patting at the clothed juncture of your thighs, running up the thick band of your holster, "couldn't even wait till we shot the damn' bastard, and took home a niceee paycheck."

you push at him, arms using as much as force as you can muster but it does very little to move this solid block of a man. but toji's clearly humouring you, letting you shove him against the reinforced, but worn-out walls, "how 'bout i give you an advance for the job?"

toji's wrapping a muscled arm around your waist, pulling you closer so he's nudging against your lips, "hah, a little taste then?" tugging at the waistband of your pants, "don't mind if i do."

and before you can even take a second to blink, he's whirling the two of you around. balancing you with inhuman levels of strength against the wall, so your ankles dangle in the air. quickly hooking against his waist, while toji thumbs at your underwear, eager to slide any remaining fabric away.

"stay focused now," toji murmurs, "got a big stretch for ya', heh."

and fuck, he wasn't exaggerating. you've never gotten used to it, the way his thick, girthy shaft melds into you, swabbing at the swollen, dripping walls that toji loves to call home. you're not sure if you're losing your mind, but you swear, you truly swear that you can feel the pulse of that one, angry vein that runs along the underside of his cock (yeah, you're pretty familiar).

"ngh –" you babble, "s-so big, fuck," your mind's gone entirely blank, grasping for the right word to encompass just how enrapturing toji's cock is, "so deep."

toji seems to like that, cheeks flushing the most adorable shade of peach and pink that he seems desperate to hide and deny, "y-yeah? deep in ya'?" he's rustling you in his hold, eager to hit bullseye on your cervix, to see you rolling your eyes to back of your head as you take him.

and if toji tears his gaze downwards, he can see your puffy folds parted, inches stuffed into your cunt. painting such a pretty sight that if toji were a less jealous, lecherous man, he'd hire a photographer to come capture the sinful view. hmm, maybe the new paycheck can go to a camera? oh, yeah, he's havin' ideas.

"t-toji –" you mewl, hands grasping at the firm curve of his pectorals, defined and taut underneath the fabric that stretched across his chest, "that's it, hah, jus' what i needed."

"mhm?" toji chuckles against the shell of your ear, "got so fucked out on the job, needed me to come take care of you like t-this?" he can feel your legs trembling in his hold, turning to mush and quivering, as he batters hit after hit against your mound. he shifts, readjusting himself for the right angle so...

plap! each smack of his heavy, laden sack rings throughout the abandoned storage room of this fuck-ass hideout, repurposed for something far more pleasurable. brows furrowed, sweat dripping down tanned skin as toji squeezes his eyes shut, feels every cell in his body unravelling (or well, something like that, he's not a scientist) as your tight cunt swallows him up, takes him apart.

"hnngh, fuck, girl, look what you're doin' to me," toji gasps, rocketing his hips to dig as deep as possible, cock twitching and practically sending s.o.s signals despite this being the first round of many.

he knows he's close, knows that tell-tale tightening in his groin will only lead to him shooting ropes out, so he pulls you in for a filthy, clashing kiss, "where do ya' want it? gon' have to tell me quick, – dunno' how long i can –"

"inside," you murmur, sounding as breathless as toji fushiguro feels, legs deliciously arched against his back, "want it inside, toji." whimpering the most beautiful, sweet groans against his ear.

toji wishes he was a stronger man, he truly does. wishes that he had some restraint, and sense but the very second your mouth parted to form those syllables, he felt the world go blank. ropes upon ropes of thick, cloying seed stuttering out of him, making the assassin feel off-kilter, "think it took, doll?" toji scoops some of the creamy release against your sloppy cunt, "or wanna' try one more time? or two?"

GETO SUGURU ៹ the worst curse user

"eyes on me, pretty," geto's panting, glossed lips parting, and you can see just how affected he is, that soft tremble of his mouth giving away the cracks in his composure.

but are you shocked? well, nah. you've learnt there are several ways to undo geto suguru, to unravel him until he's a trembling mess and your favourite way is to plant your hands on his bare chest, and rock your hips until the two of you are seeing stars.

and god, you feel as though your mind is turning to a sludgy mush, a faint whine building up between your ears until you realise that the sound is coming from your own parted mouth. geto's got a hell of a package down there, and he sure knows how to use it. every tilt of your pitching hips has his fat tip swabbing smears of silky pre against your inner walls, "mhm – feels s-so good, sugu', fuck!"

it's quite a sight, this you know. you had managed to paw off a decent swathe of geto's thick robes, still stained with a splash red that you're not eager to identify. pooling the silk on the cool tiles underneath the broad man. the taper of his broad, solid thighs keeps you well balanced as you crinkle your nose, plucking the lit stub from geto's smoky mouth. tossing it onto the tiles of the temple, so the flame patters out in the stained, warm glow of this sanctuary.

"hey, i was enjoyin' that," geto glowers, violet eyes subdued into a mauve, lustful haze, and you dig the very tips of your nails into the meat of his shoulders, opting for a harsher, sharper angle to slap skin against skin.

"enjoy this, instead," your eyes roll and fall to the back of your head as geto's grip on your hips tighten, almost bruising in the most delicious way possible. but a large, calloused hand travels further along, coming up to cup the underside of your tits, tweaking and pinching appreciatively. predictable, like an ant to some honey.

"heh, q-quite a sight," geto purrs, watching how your captivating form writhes and shakes. knowing that it's solely due to his thick shaft working inches into you, hitting spots that you weren't even aware of, "always so perfect for me, pretty."

you lean down, capturing his waiting lips in a sloppy, heavy kiss. a clash of your eager tongue against his, teeth sinking into plush lips. geto seems to been hit with a spark of some new idea, for he's suddenly pushing you back, murmuring a gentler kiss against your lips as an apology.

manoeuvring his broad frame so he's sitting up now, with you still balanced in his lap. the change in the nasty angle is so prominent, for his cock feels deeper than ever before. each thick vein scraping and pulsing against the walls of your swollen cunt, leaving no surface unclaimed.

"s-suguru, 'm there, right –" the sentence leaves you, mouth parting in a wordless, mindless oh! for the fat, creaming tip of his cock must have brushed past that delicious patch, that g-spot, and it has you trembling, climax washing over you in the most, delicious pulsing waves.

but geto suguru never lets up, never lets his best girl off the hook that easy. he doesn't stop bucking muscular hips up into you, sticky skin slapping over and over again in an addled cacophony of pleasure, determined to have you fall apart all over again. and he needs it to be asap.

"g-gorgeous, heh," he's tapping fingers against your cheek, pushing and pulling at your mouth, "what did i say about wanderin' eyes? keep them on me, love. need ya' to be lookin' at me when i split you apart."

"fuck, 'm feelin' –" you almost sob from the pleasure, crystalline tears pooling at your lashes from the sheer overstimulation. geto's cock absolutely heavy and weighty in you, kissing at your walls, and pecking your most sensitive spot.

"yeah, yeah, i k-know," geto gasps, feeling his own orgasm knocking on the door, thin strands of wispy cum already beginning to shoot out, but he's determined. a man on a mission, so a wide hand reaches in between the tight space, slapping sloppy circles against your sensitive clit in a way that has you sinking teeth into the side of his thick neck.

he's looking at you expectantly, like he knows exactly what's arriving. and when. long fingers twirling at your sloshy cunt, flicking over your throbbing clit, "three," he murmurs, "two..."

"and one –" geto's climax hits him at the exact same time, the hypnotising pulse of your pussy practically sucking any restraint out of him. translucent ropes of cream and ivory pumping into you, until you can only lay limp and boneless in his arms, with him still sprawled against the floor of the temple and...oh.

"suguru, baby?"

"hah, yeah," oouh, geto sounds ruined. his voice a rock-salt rasp, still quivering from the earth-shaking climax.

"did we leave the temple door open? and aren't all your guests meant to be arriving today?"

HAJIME KASHIMO ៹ the god of lightning

"tch', thought you said you weren't gonna move, silly girl."

hajime's been going at it for hours, now. well, you can't truly be sure for the world has become slow and hazy, but it certainly feels like an eternal passage of time, rife with that familiar, cloying buildup of pleasure shaking your abdomen.

you're whining, glossy and reddened lips being gnawed and worried into, aching fingers curling into loose strands of cyan hair that's come loose from the knots that hajime seems to favour, "i k-know. but it's –" you squeal when sharp fangs bite at the inner flesh of your thighs, "it's so much, and i've already –"

the sorcerer fixes you with that piercing stare of his, that disconcerting gaze of jewel-cerulean that is a direct shade match with his soft hair, "you've what? finished already? twice? thrice?" the man's getting cocky, you murkily wonder, scraping the tip of his tongue against your throbbing clit, "that's the point. but 'm waiting for something else, y'see."

you can only what else he could possibly want from you, for hajime's got you splayed out for him. bare thighs spread across the edge of the clean bed, the heat of your cunt sensitive even to the cool chill of the air, as he continues to kneel in between your legs. humming, murmuring, as he toys with your slick, sweet folds.

but you know one thing for certain, hajime is a man who will never accept defeat. he's competitive as fuck, and he shows it in all aspects, but especially when it comes to pleasuring you.

"look at you," hajime's cooing, pink mouth blooming a vivid magenta, painted a mirror sheen of your arousal, "jus' falling apart from my mouth? already?"

turquoise hair bunched around hajime's shoulders, falling over his white robes in thick, silky swathes, as he wraps his lips right around your sensitive bud, cheeks hollowing to suck. slender, wiry fingers littered with scars trace mindless circles around your entrance, pushing at your gummy walls until he's the one sucking in a breath.

"heh, s-so tight," hajime mutters, bestowing a filthy kiss upon your cunt, all sloppy and so loving, "have half a mind to just fill you up instead, have ya' pressed under me." he seems dazed by the way that you're still taking his fingers so readily, never mind the six orgasms that he's ripped from you already.

and you would be lying if you said you weren't desperate for the thin but lengthy curve of his cock, pressing up against your cervix as he was so prone to doing when he had you in a tight mating press.

"why don'tcha, then, 'jime?" you're mewling, hands moving away from his sea-green hair to paw at the thick padding of his ivory robes, "want y'in me so, so bad." you're all but sobbing, for hajime's delighted with how you're taking a third finger, and he's crooking the digit up. searching, searching for that sweet spot.

"patience, woman," the rough pads of hajime's fingers swirling thick arousal back into every cranny and divot of your walls, "hmm, 'm gonna' try something." he's grinning now, face splitting into an electrifying smile that you are all too familiar with, "just need to relax for me, sweet thing." pulling sodden fingers out of your cunt, ignoring your needy cries at the sudden loss of sensation.

you can practically feel how restless the sorcerer is, bruising the fingertips of his left hand into the fat of your thighs, amused at how they leave gloss-streaked smears over the skin. but the other hand is slowly stroking at your folds, teasing as hajime takes joy in watching your hips buck up continuously, desperate for some stimulation.

and that's when you first feel it. it's a little jolt at first, something stronger and almost harsher than what you're accustomed to. you can't even help the wanton, candied moan that falls from your lips at how the pins-and-needles quickly turns pleasurable, and how hajime's eyes have become aglow, cursed technique ever so delicately ramping up.

"hahh, 'jime," you're not even sure what to say, to cry out and hope that the words are able to form themselves, and not fall out in slurred groans of pleasure, "more, m-more!"

the sensation is warm too, each small spark sets you alight. far more heated than the cool tips of hajime's fingers that you're used to. and you're certain that you can attribute the involuntary twitching of your leg to the small, controlled electricity being channeled through hajime's skin, each pinch at your clit having you arch your back in the most filthy, whoreish of ways.

"aha," hajime angles a finger in you once more, resuming that gentle push-and-pull pace that he's kept for hours, so the messy pop! rings in your ears each time that he glides away and bottoms his fingers out once more, "i think 'm getting the hang of this, wouldn't ya' say?"

you must look absolutely out of it right now, for hajime's cursed technique is running jolts and buzzes through you in such a way that you know jujutsu was never intended to be used for. tongue falling out of your mouth, whining, as you squeeze your eyes shut. feeling the pace pick up, and hajime's fingers hit bullseye when they brush that spot.

"there, there, t-there, 'm gonna –"

you faintly catch the satisfied, thrilled look on hajime's face when you climax, spraying all over his chin. droplets of clear release that he's eagerly digging into to lap up, hah, you know he's glad to have achieved a victory like this, exhilarated just from achieving your pleasure. tongue sloppy as it works you through a mind-numbing orgasm, slick dripping over his faintly-tanned chin.

"see, i knew y'had it in you," hajime's standing up now, and you bite back a bratty comment about how a four-hundred year old sorcerer was able to stay on his knees for so long, gulping as you see him reach for the loose ties on his martial pants, "and i wanna' see something else now."

CHOSO KAMO ៹ the death painting

"are you sure, my love?" you've barely even touched him, and choso already sounds ruined, tremors wracking his sensitive form. he's beautiful like this, broad-shouldered and thick with hardened muscle. a dark curtain of inky, clingy hair falling around his face as he looks down at you, from where he's hovering with his beefy arms on either side.

"i'm sure, cho," you whimper, inching your legs up to wrap around his waist, pulling him in and closer to where your hot, glossy folds are practically begging for his touch. or rather, for his cock — all his glorious inches that beam an angry, sensitive shade of scarlet.

choso brushes his nose against yours, as intimate as he always is, "jus' don't wanna' hurt you," thick tip snagging against the very entrance of your glistening, winking hole, "tell me if it's too much."

"i will, oh, i –" the air is punctured from your lungs, like your very breath has been stolen away from you in the most searing kiss. that first, initial stretch of choso's cock in you is nothing short of delicious and eye-opening. he's always like this, so intoxicating and sweet, and mindful of how the body of a human may differ to that of a half-curse such as himself, so he's running a thick hand against your abdomen, soothing as he bullies another inch into you.

"not too much, love?" choso gasps out, spellbound by your tight, loving grip, and he thinks he's already lost his mind, hand kneading at the sudden divot that's formed under your skin, from where his cock is settling.

"mhm, mm!" you shake your head, unable to speak from the instant swipe of his cock against your sweet spot already, determined not to wantonly start moaning and gasping in his ear before he's already bottomed out.

choso's worried thumb comes up to swipe at your lower lip, pressing into the kiss-stricken flesh, "hey, i like hearing you. always sound so pretty." pressing his lips to your mouth again, as though he could stay there forever. like this, with you. in you.

"ahh, cho, 's good, really," and you're telling the truth, for his thick cock is rendering you senseless, and so in love. nails lightly clawing at his peach-toned skin, certainly leaving small, crescent marks that you know will make choso flush later. raking your nails down as choso finally, finally bottoms out with a pop!

the sound of skin slapping and sliding against skin makes you flush, your arousal practically drooling out of swollen folds, as thin strands delicately balance between your hips before snapping into creamy puddles, creating an absolute mess underneath you.

"it's like i can feel all of you," choso groans, silky ends of his dark hair tickling your cheek, "and yer' so, so pretty," he's gnawing at his lips, blood-hued, fucking you absolutely stupid on his endowed cock. hitting you with solidified rams against that rough, sensitive spot, drawing senseless, pleasured sounds of your gaping mouth.

choso's weaving his hand in between the two of you, determined to reach for your glistening, throbbing clit. to run sloppy, mindless shapes over the bud that make the most filthy sounds, that soft and pulling sound of your translucent slick sloshing over choso's broad hand.

"you gotta' finish," choso heaves, hauling you a little closer to him, so he can do his very best to draw circles around your clit, despite the slick making it nigh impossible for his fingers to stay on course, "gotta' see you fall apart f'me."

and what a glorious sight for choso's eyes, to see how your lips moisten and part. eyes tight and shut, brows drawn together like a bow releasing a quiver of arrows, he thinks he'd be content to stay like this forever. to have your body tremble underneath him, orgasm painting over you in the most gentle shade possible, hips bucking further into him.

"wait," choso looks almost sheepish now, ears a glowing shade of berry-red, kissing away the last tremours of your climax, "can i turn you around? wanna' see how you look from the back."

GOJO SATORU ៹ the strongest

"w-what? here?" gojo groans, but god, he's never one to complain. hard for him to even find one fault in the world when you're straddling his thighs, looking so lustful and dazed above him.

you're nodding, lips pressed into a frown that gojo immediately swipes away with a kiss, "been wantin' you for days, 'toru." hands already pulling aside his haori, digging into the soft bands of his white pants, "always soo busy, everyone's takin' your attention."

oh. you're needy. and gojo's not ashamed to admit that he loves to play into it. loves to see how his pretty wife's brows furrow and lips part when she's desperate for him.

he snickers, looping a muscular thigh in a way that he's able to flip the two of you over. splaying you out on all fours for him, him only. your knees digging into the soft mats in the training rooms that gojo's certain he locked when you dragged him in here.

he's biting at the shell of your ear, rough hand slithering up your top to cup at the fat of your tits, "y'do know that everyone's on me because they wanna' check in about my fight with sukuna." rocking you back against his tight bulge, "and i did say i would face...him before the twenty-fourth."

"you're the s-strongest, – fuck, that's so –" hah, gojo's already a step ahead of you, sheathing both girth and length into your drooling pussy, leaning back to admire the way your swollen folds snatch and eagerly swallow him up, "and you're always trainin', i was getting lonely."

"my, my," gojo purrs, running a large, broad hand down your spine, slamming your hips back into his so the white curls at the base of his cock kiss the heart-shaped juncture of your ass, "if i knew m'wife was this jealous, i'd have brought ya' in to train with me." gojo's figuring that life's kinda short, and he's gotta live a little — revving up six eyes without any shame, desperate to see the curve of his cock drill home into your tight cunt.

you squeal when he rams his thick, rosy-toned tip deep into your sticky, slimy walls. and for each squelch! when he pulls out, there's a coating of gloss that drips from his cock, entrancing the white-haired man, "well, we're kinda' training now, s-satoru."

"heh, you're right, wifey," gojo decides to take it all the way, looming his frame over you so the tight weave of his dark tee presses against your back, his chest firm enough against you that it bows your back down in the most pleasurable arch, rummaging his cock all over, "see, what would i do without ya'?"

if you crack open bleary, hazy eyes, you can make out the cracks and fissures that run deep in the walls here, plaster splitting apart to reveal brick underneath. wondering, vaguely, whether it was the force of gojo's cursed technique tearing apart the foundations of this building. but it doesn't make you shudder, no, what truly makes you quake is the smack! of gojo's palm against the fat of your ass, and his thick, muffled groan against your ear.

"can't believe i've been neglecting ya', sweets," gojo whines, churning at your pussy in determined rolls of his hips, "and her, too, of course." he's got you bent at such a determined angle, that you're not sure whether you can muster the energy to even tilt your head back. but you certain that the hot drops that quickly cool upon your shoulder are leaking from his stormy eyes, prickling at his long-white lashes. gojo's always been so sensitive during sex, always so easily riled up and undone.

he doesn't let up on the place, continuing to smack the fat head of his cock against your cervix, as though he's desperate to not miss the right spot to spill thick wads of buttery release, and you know that gojo won't, not with those superhuman, heightened senses of his.

"close? close? is m'wife –" gojo hoarsely rasps, "are ya' close? because i think 'm gonna pass out, ouh, yeah. snatching me way too good, heh, been missing out on this training," already pussydrunk and babbling as he tends to do, running his mouth at the same pace at which he's slamming his cock into you, "you know i lo –"

gojo's never one to withstand a rude interruption, not even when its his own orgasm snatching the words out of his mouth, so even as steaming, slick strands of his climax pump themselves into you, he's mouthing and kissing at your neck, gently pulling you up from all fours to balance your arms wide, splaying your thighs wide apart — all while he's still filling you up, "love you, love you so much, i fuckin' love you."

[mead-iocre]

Can't Pay the Rent | Leah Williamson x Reader

synopsis: can't pay the rent trend

warnings: none x

word count: 1.1k words

*＊✿❀○❀✿＊*

You angle the camera, making sure it was just right. Pressing the record button, you quickly shift the flower vase so it was covering most of your phone screen from direct view.

The "telling my partner I can't pay the rent this month" prank.

You've seen this thread floating around tiktok and you've been tempted to try it ever since. It was a silly little trend, harmless, and fun.

And you couldn't wait to try it on your girlfriend.

Straightening your back again, you try to look nonchalant, curling your knee to your chest and leaning back into Leah's side. She was currently laser-focused on the footy on screen. Not a lot can distract Leah Williamson from a game of football, so it gave you enough time to set up the camera without the blonde noticing. There could be a tornado outside and Leah wouldn't notice until the screen turns off because of blackout.

Out of habbit, she raises an arm, curling it around you and snuggling you closer into her side. Without taking her eyes off the screen, she presses a quick kiss to your temple.

You wait a beat, taking the opportunity to stare at the woman beside you. You look at her, entranced by the way the light falls across her profile, kissing the edges of her hair. Blonde locks brush against her cheek as she pushes her hair back, letting out a frustrated huff at whatever is going on on-screen. Blue eyes—so soft, yet sharp with intention. Her clever brain was most likely analysing plays. Her lips, just slightly parted in concentration, are rosy from the amount of times she would bite them.

You catch yourself staring a little too long, pressing your lips together to try and hide your smile. You will yourself to get into character, putting your past manifestations of being a Hollywood actress into fruition. Now was your time to shine.

"Hey, Lee..."

She hums. Her hand comes up from behind you, fingers instinctively running through your hair. She doesn't look at you though. Her eyes are locked on the screen in front.

You poke her side.

Usually, she would catch your finger and playfully bring it up to her mouth to give you a gentle bite, but all she does is shift away from you.

You pout.

Poke.

"Baby, stop. I'm watchin'"

You poke her side again. "I need to talk to you, Leah"

Her face changes immediately after hearing your words. The blonde frowns, eyebrows already furrowing in concern. Surprisingly, she turns her face towards you.

That was quicker than you thought. You thought you needed to poke and prod longer than that. On the inside, you were practically preening at how attentive your lover is. You hoped the camera was catching all of this.

The football was now an afterthought seeing as how she is blindly feels for the remote beside her. She presses the mute button, tossing the remote back on the sofa beside her.

She turns back to you, her face focused.

"Sounds serious," Leah shifts so that her thigh was pressing against you knee. She brings her other hand over, rubbing your leg, all her attention now on you. "You alright, baby?"

"Yeah-- I just--" You pause for dramatics, like how you've seen all the actresses do.

Letting out a big sigh, you press your Summer Friday coated lips together as if you found it very hard to let the next words out.

"I can't pay the rent this month."

For a moment, all your girlfriend does is stare at you. You part your lips, prepared to repeat what you just said in case she did not hear you the first time, but then she speaks

"...the rent?"

You nod, empathetically, as if you were truly troubled by this revelation. "Yeah. I can't pay this month"

Leah just stares at you for a moment. She blinks a few times, the furrow between her eyebrows growing deeper. Her expression was one of genuine bafflement, and if you weren't careful you would've cracked then and there.

"...we don't pay rent? I bought this flat."

Now it was your turn to pretend to look baffled. You exaggerate it slightly, tilting your head to the side. "okay but I still can't pay..."

Suddenly, the blonde turns her entire body towards you, mirroring your position. She takes a deep breath, the one where you know she was about to lecture you about something very important.

"Baby, you have never paid rent," She says slowly, emphasising her words. While a rarity, you still recognised the sight in front of you. Leah was a hundred percent in captain mode right now.

She squeezes your thigh, her eyes crinkle slightly by the corners. Her voice softens, all full of affection, "in your life."

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, she lets out a small chuckle. "I'm surprised you even know the word "rent"'

You fight the urge to smile. It was hard to be serious when Leah had that goofy expression on her face. The one where her eyes are serious, but one corner of her mouth is tilted upwards, as if fighting her own smile.

Schooling your expression, you continue your performance of a lifetime. You push the hand still drawing patterns on your thigh away. "Lee. I'm serious."

"and I'm bein' serious too, princess” Your girlfriend cups your face, squeezing your cheeks into a pout. Her eyes drop to your lips like they always do. "because why would my girl be paying rent, huh?"

"I used to pay our mortgage" She emphasises, sneaking a quick peck on your lips, unable to resist loving on you. "and besides, you cry at the sight of numbers when they're not printed on a receipt"

You sigh, still keeping up the charade. You hoped she didn't notice your twitching lips.

Although Leah was right though, you weren't the best with numbers-- even during school. As far as you were concerned, the only numbers you were concerned about is the number of shopping bags you could fit in the car. "Maybe next month I could--"

"Fuck no." She laughs, bellows more like it. She pulls you to her, throwing herself back on the sofa and pulling you along, so you were essentially on top of her. A very familiar position.

If this continues, the footage might not be allowed for public consumption.

"Baby, I'm not making you pay rent-- ever. The only thing your pretty little head needs to worry about is what bag you're gettin' next" She rolls her eyes playfully at the last bit, but you know she means it.

"besides...you can pay me in other ways"

You raise an eyebrow at her, mirroring the growing smile on her face. You knew exactly what she is implying.

She cradles your cheek, craning her neck up so she could whisper in your ear. "Why don't you go put on that pretty pink set you bought the other day-- with the lace garter and thigh highs..."

Yeah, this video is not getting posted.

oh to be platonic housemates with a hot football player (who also happens to notice when you’re wearing new underwear) x

・❥・- kisses, butter

*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission first. Thanks for respecting that!

[sumbarbietingz]

Part 2 of Onlyfans!Toji, here’s part one

Now it’s either a one shot or a long ass drabble you decide, I had too much inspiration for that one

Warnings: degradation and praise kink, mutual masturbation, masturbation, breeding kink, rough sex, mention of oral; reader receiving and giving

Onlyfans!Toji finally dm you, with a simple message that comes straight to the point. “Hey ma, just discovered you and ngl, I need a collab with you asap.” Toji being the cocky bastard that he is, knows that you’ll reply and accept the offer. You see his message, and at first, you think it might be a catfish or someone using an ai generated pic for the pfp, cause you’ve never seen anyone so hot in your life. You check his profile and ho-ly fuck. 2 million followers on Twitter, a handsome face, a buff body, and the biggest dick you’ve seen in your life? Goddamn now your pussy’s wet, how can someone be- hold on.

While you’re scrolling you see a video of Onlyfans!Toji fucking some other content creator and unconsciously, you start playing with your breast. The way he’s pushing her head down the pillow while his hips are slamming against hers, the way she’s moaning, the way he’s biting his lip and groaning while railing her? Fuck, you need that. You want that, badly. Usually, you don’t crave a content creator that much. Sure, you need to at least like his work to do a collab, but this is the first time you genuinely want another dude on OF to rearrange your insides. So you don’t waste any more time, you reply and accept the offer.

Onlyfans!Toji almost jumps on his phone when he sees the notification, and a big smile spreads on his face. He jumps on his bed and the two of you start texting. There are questions and answers regarding the collab, like the money matters, what the two of you like and dislike, boundaries, ideas for the video, your schedule, and most importantly, updated test results.

Onlyfans!Toji doesn’t know why he’s so excited and why he’s behaving like a 15 yo texting his crush. But he can’t wait to see you. You end up texting for hours, and eventually, you exchange numbers to FaceTime each other which quickly ends up in Toji stroking and hitting his dick on the phone, while you’re rubbing your wet brown pussy for him. You both don’t know what’s going on, and why you’re acting like this, but you can’t wait to finally meet each other

Eventually, it’s getting late and you tell him you’re going to sleep. Since Onlyfans!Toji is not tired yet, his mind is too focused on you, so he decides to make this paid request a fan asked for earlier that day. A $500 video of him jerking off while saying the fan’s name. He’s not the one who sets the price, the fan has money to waste, and who Onlyfans!Toji is to refuse such a good offer after all? The fan already paid, it was time for him to do his part now

Onlyfans!Toji removes his clothes, lays on his bed, grabs his phone, and starts recording. At first, it’s a lil intro to edge the fan, tell her whatever she wanna hear before the camera is now on his cock. He makes it twitch a bit and says how hard it is because of her which is a lie, he imagines the fan is you. He starts stroking himself, and says the name of the fan all while thinking about you, thinking about that FaceTime and the way your fat pussy lip wrapped around your two fingers as you rubbed your clit, the way you moaned his name in despair while begging him to fuck you. He groans and starts going faster “Fuuuuuuck mama… I wanna fuck you so bad shiiit…” As he keeps going, he starts dirty talking, imagining saying all those things to you, imagining doing all those things to you, and it takes everything in him to not say your name. His imagination is running wild now, he grabs his cock a bit too tight and hits the camera a bit too hard, a feral groan leaving his lips “Fuck… suck that fuuuucking dick you fucking bitch… Do you like that? Uh?” God knows what the fuck Onlyfans!Toji is imagining right now but one thing is for sure, he’s gonna do that to you.

After a few minutes Onlyfans!Toji cums all over his abs, groaning like an animal as he pictures your dick sucking lips around his tip, swallowing his semen. He’s panting, he can’t believe he felt so much pleasure from just using his hand “Damn [fan name], see what you made me do? Fuck, I’m dirty now because of you, but it was worth it. Thank you for making me feel good.” This is clearly not for the fan but whatever. He stops recording, sends the video to the girl on Onlyfans then gets cleaned up. You’re gonna be the death of him.

A week later it’s finally time to record this video. For once, Onlyfans!Toji wants his colleague to come to his place. He doesn’t know why, he doesn’t. Usually, he meets the other content creators at some hotel or their place but never at his own. It’s not like he lives in the slums, that Onlyfans money made him rich and he lives in a beautiful penthouse. He just knows how some of these content creators become clingy and/or possessive after getting fucked by him. He doesn’t need stalkers on top of that. But you? He has that weird desire to see you boneless on his bed, HIS. And maybe he’ll be able to keep you around for a few more rounds off camera, or on, who knows.

You finally arrive and Onlyfans!Toji finds you even more breathtaking in real life, and by the look on your face, you probably think the same thing about him. Before he loses it and jumps on you to take you right there and then, he chats a bit with you, he still wanna act like a civilized man and not like a caveman. He asks you if you need anything to eat or drink, if you’re okay if you’re ready, and if you have any safe words. Once it’s settled he brings you to his room, where a whole set next to the bed is ready for you. The tension is high in the room. You didn’t plan a scenario, you both decided to go with the flow. You don’t know why you’re so nervous when you’re used to it, after all, it’s your job, but the dark and hungry look in Onlyfans!Toji’s eyes make your heart race.

You are out of breath, you are overstimulated, and your slicked-back bun is a whole mess. You didn’t know recording a video with Onlyfans!Toji would leave you in that state. Well, you expected it, but still, you can’t believe it. This man is a monster in bed. He praised and degraded you, made you ride his face until you came at least twice. He made you suck his massive dick until you were a crying, drooling mess with a sore throat. He had you in full Nelson, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, backshots, the princess position, and now you can’t count how many times this man made you squirt. And he wasn’t done, cause he didn’t cum yet. This man has the stamina of a goddamn bull on steroids. Right now you’re in missionary again, your wrists pinned, your legs wrapped around his waist, moaning in a way you never thought you would as his cock keeps pocking your cervix.

With the way Onlyfans!Toji is panting and groaning, you can tell he’s getting close to cum “M-ma, fuck I’m close mama… goddamn fuck- your pussy feels so good… such a good girl for me…” he groans in your ear, which makes your clench tighter around him. You bite your lip, and you’re so fucked out that you tell him to cum inside you. “You sure ma? Want me to fill you up and get you pregnant? That’s what you want?” You’re on the pill so it’s safe but you’d lie if you didn’t find the idea fucking hot. You nod desperately “Yes please… cum in my pussy… knock me up baby..” you whimper, your voice almost gone from the way you moaned and screamed earlier. That’s when Onlyfans!Toji snaps. He growls, releases your wrists to wrap his buff arms around your body, and violates your insides as you scream for dear life. You scratch his back so deeply you might draw blood. “Goddamn fucking slut y/n take my cum…!” When he says your name you cry out as you have another orgasm, he follows you quickly after, growling so loudly it gives you goosebumps. You can feel the warm gooey texture filling your womb, the feeling is amazing. You both stay like this for a moment until he pulls out, his cum leaking from your abused hole. He’s tempted to fuck it back into you but you’re already boneless, so he grabs his phone and stops recording.

Onlyfans!Toji looks at you affectionately and caresses your cheek while admiring your state. “You were amazing y/n, such a good girl for me.” You can barely hear him, but his caress gives you some reassurance. Eventually, you doze off and he starts editing the video. After a while, he posts a sneak peek on his Twitter account. A 20-second video of him taking you in different positions while you’re screaming in pleasure. He writes a lil caption: “@Y/N might have been my best collab so far, ‘ma knows how to take a good dick😩😈 full video on OF real soon🍆💦” and then posts it. It doesn’t take long before he gets shitloads of reactions under the tweet, both from his fans and yours.

@mahito’sstankass: holy fuckkkk I wish I was y/n 😩😩

@y/n’sdirtydraws: fucking hot I’m already touching myself rn

@tojiA1dickrider: oh my god she takes it like a champ! Wish Toji fucked me like her🤤🤤

@dcktoobigforyou: goddamn that mf gets all the baddies im jealous right now

@gojo_right_ball: I need my bf to fuck me like toji or I might break up with him idc

@coochiehair: I need the full vid asap the chemistry is insaneeeeee🔥🔥

@y/n’sasscrack: ikr??? They were downright making love! I hope they make more videos

@tojifckmepls: omg I can tell they were both into it I need more!!! My pussy can’t take it!!!🤭🤣

Onlyfans!Toji chuckles and then looks at you, the comments were right, he felt it and he bets you felt it too. This won’t be your last video together, he’s sure of it.

You can tell I was fucking horny while writing some of these lmao hope you liked part 2🫶🏾

taglist: @midnightry @tojicvmslut @getoisinnocent @samoankpoper21 @remithenonbinaryrat

[coldfanbou]

Least Restrictive Environment

So, this isn't what I wanted to put out. I got sick in the middle of the week, and looking at a screen has been difficult. I just happened to have this nearly finished, so I added a little bit more to it. It's part 2 of the Sana and Momo Kinkcember fic. That being said, it's pretty much just an update on what happened after P1 and smut, so it might be better to call it an epilogue. I'm starting to ramble anyway. I hope you enjoy it.

Length 2.1K

Sana X Momo X M reader

Once your relationship with your foster sisters had come to light, life became awkward in your home. The three of you would have constant sex when your parents were out; it didn’t matter where in the house it would happen; in the kitchen, bathroom, living room, everywhere was fair game. Your foster parents had had enough after a time. The smell bothered them more than anything. Considering there was no blood relation between any of you, they were okay with you being together; they just wanted you all to move out.

Together, the three of you were able to afford a decent place, renting a nice-sized apartment that quickly became your home. With the constant urge to play with each other, it was only a matter of time before Sana and Momo got pregnant. They were as happy as could be when they found out, and they wouldn’t allow their pregnancy to stop their daily activities. 

While Sana went out to get some shopping done, you were with Momo, your hands digging into her shoulders as you massaged them. Momo groaned as your hands unknotted the tension, feeling your breath against her back move her to push for more. You hadn’t had sex yet, having agreed to wait for Sana to come back. Momo figured she might be able to convince you. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at you, “I need you to get a spot, but let me take this off.” She said, making you pause. Momo lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it on the bed. The shirt was Momo’s only clothes, leaving her naked; considering how far along she was, she didn’t wear her bras anymore, and with the constant sex you all had, she had given up on panties long ago. Momo smirked as you asked her where she wanted you to focus. She reached back and grabbed your hands, “Right here,” Momo said, placing your hands on her engorged tits. You move closer to Momo, looking over her shoulder. Her breasts were weightier; her nipples had turned a darker color as well. The sight of her bare breasts turned you on, and Momo could feel your hardening cock against her ass.

“Oh, it feels like you need to get some tension out, too,” Momo said with a smirk. She has you squeeze her tits once before turning around. “Lay down for me, baby, and take those clothes off. Mommy is going to make you feel good.” You had to admit Momo taking charge aroused you more than anything, so you did as you were told. Once your clothes were off, Momo patted her lap, “Lay down here.” You rested against Momo, letting her adjust your position at will. In the end, she had her hand wrapped around your cock as she offered you one of her tits. You couldn’t resist; the large mounds were hypnotizing. You leaned in, running your tongue along her areola before taking it into your mouth. Momo’s hand began to move along your length slowly. You were growing harder, and Momo noticed, smiling as your precum began to cover her hand. “Oh, you’re so hard already. Does Mommy’s hand feel that good?” You nod, continuing to suck on her tit. “Are you going to cum soon?” She asked, speeding up slightly. In her pregnancy Momo had little patience, often wanting to drain you of all your cum as quickly as she could.

“Cum for Mommy,” Momo whispered into your ear with a smirk, her grip becoming oh so slightly stronger. You groan as she moves her hand along your shaft, her delicate fingers massaging the head as she moves to the tip. You can barely focus on her tits, Momo’s hand never stopped moving. Your groans only get louder, even as you suck on her tits. Momo’s breathy moans grow longer as she pumps your cock, feeling it begin to throb in her hand. “You can cum whenever you like. Mommy knows you have a lot more for her.” Momo cranes her neck, reveling in the pleasure as you flick her sensitive nipple with your tongue. “Mmm, keep going, baby; maybe you’ll get some milk.” Momo moans. You reach up and gently squeeze her breast, drawing milk from her nipple. “Ah! Don’t steal it all.” Momo’s breathing gets heavier as her milk fills your mouth. You feel her hand on the back of your head, keeping you against her chest as the hand on your cock begins to speed up.

You were getting close to cumming, and wanting to last a little longer, you tense your body. As you do, though, you accidentally bite down on Momo’s nipple. She yelps and squeezes down on the tip of your cock, making you cum. Your semen sprays onto her hand, coating it in the sticky substance. You quickly release your bite and pull away, apologizing as Momo continues to stroke your cock. “You can’t be so rough,” Momo says softly, bringing her hand to her lips. She drags her tongue along her hand, happily swallowing your cum.

She lays back on the bed, spreading her legs for you, her bulging belly more noticeable now as you take in her body. Momo notices your stares and places her hand on her belly. “This is yours, I’m yours.” She says with a smile. Momo moves her right hand down to her wet lips, spreading them apart slowly.  You gulp, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at Momo’s body. Grabbing your cock, you inch closer to Momo, your foster sister, your lover, the mother to your soon-to-be child. You rub yourself against her entrance, both of you cooing from the jolt of pleasure. 

Just as you’re about to push inside, the bedroom door opens. “Yah! You said you would wait!” You turn around and see Sana, her cheeks puffed out. “Don’t move! I get to go first!” The flustered woman rushes to take off her dress, slipping the straps off her shoulder and pulling it over her belly until it falls onto the floor. Sana waddles over to the bed, climbing onto it and putting herself beside Momo. The younger woman pouts, her brows furrowed as she looks at the shameless older sister. “You said you wouldn’t start without me.”

“It’s not my fault. He was giving me a massage, and I thought he needed some relief, too.” Momo retorted, a smirk on her face, and a feeling of smugness came over her. She turns to you, “You wanted me to help you, right?” Momo was trying to pin all this on you. You can’t help but appreciate the ridiculousness of her claim, especially when you both knew Sana would side with whatever you said.

Sana turns to you, expecting to hear an honest answer. “Momo seduced me. She started moaning when I was massaging her shoulders.” You tell the younger woman. Momo sticks her tongue out at Sana, who returns it with an angry pout. 

“You guys didn’t wait, so it’s only fair that I get to go first.” Sana says before reaching out for you, “Come on, let’s go,” Sana says, playfully kicking her feet. You move over to her and rub your cock against her slit for a brief moment before pushing into her cunt, her plump lips spreading as you push inside of her. Sana shuts her eyes and moans softly as you fill her; even though sex was a daily tradition at this point, she missed having your cock inside her. She runs her hands down your arms and intertwines her hand with yours, smiling at you as you begin to thrust into her. Momo pouts and gently turns onto her side, reaching over and squeezing one of Sana’s engorged breasts, letting some milk leak from her nipple. 

“Mm, you’re both so mean for leaving me out.” Momo whines, unbothered by the situation, just wanting to remind you both she is still there. The older woman turns Sana’s head and kisses her, continuing to squeeze her foster sister’s tits and adding to the pleasure she was feeling. Sana’s whines were muffled because of the kiss. Momo had teased Sana’s tongue, coaxing the younger woman to poke it out before she began sucking on it. Sana could only moan as you thrust into her cunt; she was being pushed to the edge as you both played with her body. You added to the pleasure, sneaking one of your hands away from Sana’s and using it to brush at her clit. 

“N-no, I don’t want to cum yet,” Sana mumbled with a grimace as she felt the waves of pleasure coming over her faster and faster. Her walls began to tighten around your cock, and her body tensed before she exploded, her cream covering your cock as she came. Sana cried out as you kept thrusting, pushing yourself to the edge.

“Sana, I’m cumming, “ you grunted.

Sana quickly pulled you in, holding you tightly against her chest. “Inside! Cum inside me!” Sana shouts, wrapping her legs around you in an attempt to keep you inside. It made you smile to see her so desperate for it, you were always planning on giving Sana a creampie, and this just made you want to do it more. You bury yourself inside Sana, pumping her full of your semen. Sana breath hitches as she feels your hot cum flow inside her. She smiles, and her body relaxes around you. Momo smiles and pinches the tired woman’s nipple before stealing a kiss from her. 

“Did it feel good?” It was a rhetorical question, but Sana answered anyway.

“As good as always.”

Momo wrinkles her nose before laying back and beckoning you to her. “Now it’s my turn.” The elder sister spread her lips much like before. You rub your cum-covered cock against her entrance, making her giggle. “You’re going to leave me all dirty.”

You lean over the pregnant woman, “You’re always dirty when we’re done.” You whisper into her ear. Momo laughs as you slide your dirty cock inside her, moaning as your thrusts begin. You watch as her tits bounce along with your thrusts. They had only grown bigger since she had gotten pregnant. The same could be said for Sana, but Momo’s breasts often stole the limelight. You held onto Momo’s waist as you thrust, moaning as her tight walls clung to you. 

Despite being tired, Sana still had enough energy to return the favor Momo had given her. She turned on her side and latched onto one of Momo’s breasts, suckling on it as fucked the older woman. “Ah, wait! That’s-” Momo bit her lip, her hums filling the room. You leaned down and latched onto her other breast. Together, you and Sana drank from Momo’s breasts, drinking her sweet milk. “That’s too much.” Momo groaned. Sana smiled, knowing that Momo was already on the verge of cumming because of her whines. She pulled away from her sister’s tit and kissed her, giving Momo a taste of her own milk.  While Sana was doing that, you made sure Momo’s breasts were being pleasured, pulling and pinching the engorged nub. Momo began to writhe, the pleasure overwhelming her.  

“Are you going to cum already?” You ask her, continuing to thrust into her wet cunt. 

Momo nods, weakly saying, “I’m gonna cum. Mommy’s going to cum.”

“Oh, you’re calling yourself mommy? I should do that, too!” Sana adds, smiling as she sees the grimace on Momo’s face. The older woman had prided herself on lasting a long time in bed, but since her pregnancy, she’s been cumming just as quickly as the rest of you. You grabbed Momo’s arms, crossing them under her breasts and holding onto them as you sped up your thrusts. Her tits bounced wildly as you rammed your cock inside her, Momo bit her lip as she tried to hold herself together, but it was futile. 

She cried out as she came, and you followed soon after, your cum pouring into Momo’s cunt. You pull out of Momo and lay on one side of her while Sana lies on the other, using her tiny fingers to pull on Momo’s hard nipple before moving her hand down to Momo’s belly. The older woman does the same, touching Sana’s stomach. “Don’t you think it’s great how big our family is going to get soon?” The cheer in her voice was enough to drag Momo into the conversation despite how tired she was. 

“It’ll be so big. Our little brother is going to keep putting his babies into us. Isn’t that right? Daddy?” Momo says, her voice going into a low, sultry tone as she refers to you as Daddy. 

“Of course, how could I not? Especially when we do it every day.” You say a bit of sarcasm in your voice at the end. Sana laughs, and Momo smiles at you, knowing that for all three of you, it was hard to resist the temptation.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

power bottom vi who lets you practice using your strap on her

warnings: 18+ content, power bottom vi x subtop fem reader, slight degradation and praise, clit stim (vi receiving), strap-on sex.

a/n: this is an older request but it's been on my mind for a while!!

Vi watched as you clumsily adjusted the harness around your waist with a skeptical eye. She sighed, leaning back and preparing herself for the worst. She felt bad thinking that, but she knew you. You had been her best friend for as long as you had attended to the same university, and you weren't exactly ever seen with girls. Pretty inexperienced, but adorably eager to please. When you showed up at her dorm with that downturned face, complaining about how you could never fuck a girl properly with a strap because you never get to practice, she found herself offering.

You glanced down at the dildo jutting out from the harness and stifled a laugh. This wasn't supposed to be a joke, though you knew it wasn't all that serious. You did wanna make Vi cum. You needed to be able to actually use one of these, and who better to experiment with than a girl who loves casual?

You tentatively settled between her legs, looking down at her for approval. She raised an eyebrow at you, and your heart did a little flip. "Do you even know how to use it?" She asked.

You scoffed half-heartedly at her accusation. "Yes, I do! I'm frequent LesLez."

"Dude, I did not need to know that."

"Sorry, I just.. well, I'm nervous. I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to do this, and it's making me feel weird." You confessed.

Vi softened a little at that, feeling some guilt for being brash with you. She grabbed your face, pulling it closer. "You don't have to be all dominant, you know." She spoke closely to your ear.

You looked confused, like an old dog being taught a new trick. "What? But I'm the one-"

"Just shut up and let me guide you." She quickly cut off your protest, her tone firm. It unexpectedly made you clit twitch with need.

"O-Okay..yeah." You agreed, steeling yourself.

Vi nodded, relaxing. It wouldn't be as bad to let you practice if she could be in charge. "Okay, just use your fingers on my clit..get me in the mood.." she instructed, letting her own trail down her body and show you what to do. You watched curiously as two of her fingers rubbed circles onto her clit. She then pulled them away, letting you try. You were a bit nervous, but when you glanced up to see Vi bit her lip at the way you touched her, it gave you a bit of confidence.

"Am I doing it right?" You asked, voice wobbly.

She nodded with a soft exhale. "Yeah, just like that."

When it was time for the main event, you felt less nervous. Both of you were. Vi found herself anticipated getting fucked. Maybe you wouldn't be so bad at it. You found yourself feeling like it wouldn't be so hard, and you were chasing her approval.

"Just the tip at first..I'm wet enough to take it." She guided you with eager pants, watching as you parted her slick folds with the head of the strap-on and very carefully letting it slip into her. Vi wanted to tell you that you didn't have to be so slow, but she figured it'd be better for you to be careful than just shove the dick into her and jackhammer-fuck her.

She gasped when she felt it, resting her head against the pillow. "Yeah, see? It's not so bad." She said, trying not to let herself enjoy it too much. This could only be practice. You were only supposed to be her friend.

You, on the other hand, had your head spinning. You eyes were bouncing from the way her pussy took the tip, the way her walls seemed try and suck the rest of the length in. You wanted to bottom out and let her feel every inch, to fuck her and hear her praise you for it. This was definitely getting out of hand.

"Can I fuck you? Please?" You asked, half-mumbling as if you didn't fully want her to process your words, but there was a desperation there that you couldn't hide even if you wanted to.

"Yeah, fuck me." Vi told you, bracing herself.

You didn't miss a beat, slowly pushing into her cunt and letting her adjust to all of it. Vi didn't hold in the moan, and she rubbed her clit with her own fingers to pacify herself from the stretch. It wasn't painful because she was experienced, but it wasn't exactly comfortable yet.

"Fuck me gently at first, don't rush it." She instructed, and you nodded. You reeled back until just the tip remained inside of her, and then slowly pushed back into her welcoming heat. You both moaned, your voice ironically soft and needy, and Vi's deep and raspy. Something about the difference in dynamics had your pussy soaking the harness.

The more you fucked her, the more the practice went from..well, actual practice, to something intense.

"Fuck, you're stretching me so well, aren't you? You like fucking me?" Vi cooed in your ear, her voice making you throb.

You eagerly nodded, a small whimper breaking from your throat as you slammed into her pussy. "Feels so good. Your pussy feels so good."

Vi's legs were wrapped around your waist, and your lips were latched onto her bottom one, sucking on the wet flesh. The room was hot, and you could hear the squelch of Vi's pussy taking you and the sound of your skin meeting.

On a particularly hard thrust, you found her g-spot, making her groan. "There you go. You actually can fuck a girl, can't you?" Her remark was almost condescending, and it ironically turned you on even more. Vi seemed to notice when your thrusts got sloppier, as you got needier. "Gonna make me cum, that's all you're good for," she rasped, and you whined. You whined at that.

"Please, I wanna make you cum. Need to." You whimpered out, fucking her with a newly eager and redoubled effort with the means to try to feel her cum around the silicone cock.

"Just like that, keep fuckin' me. I'm so close." She groaned and smashed her lips onto yours to hide her noises, fearing a complaint to the RA.

When she finally felt her orgasm come over her, her hands were all over your back, nails digging into your skin and making you moan just as loudly. Your breaths were shared, and you could actually feel the wetness mix on both of your thighs when they met, when you bottomed out in her pussy. All you could think about was how your best friend had the best pussy and you never knew. You wished you did sooner, you could be fucking her like this months ago.

You went limp on top of her, both of you breathless and a little sweaty. It felt nice, though. Vi was still in shock that things got so out of hand, but fuck if it wasn't a good feeling to have you laid on top of her like this. It had her a little shaken, trying to figure out how she felt about you. But not long after, the moment was over.

"I've got a physics test to study for, so.." Vi said, voice a bit quiet.

You were a little surprised. You wanted to just cuddle and feel her warmth for a bit, but it seemed like she wanted you to leave. That's what her words implied. So, you silently nodded, getting dressed. You wondered if this would happen again. You couldn't figure out if Vi was thinking the same things that you were, but you knew without a doubt that the friendship would never be the same. For better or worse.

[ill0usainte]

Fuck me like you mad at me, baby!

pairings: colonel!caleb x reader

cw: unprotected sex, office sex, inappropriate use of evol/powers, biting, hickeys, mentions of killing, possessive!caleb (come on it's caleb), crying, dom!caleb, sub!reader, lots of cum, nasty sex, reader getting aroused by Caleb dominating her, reader being called cocksleeve, anger issues

Imagine Colonel!Caleb, who has you pinned down over his office desk. Your wrist trap trapped under his hand as he gripped it tightly. You actually forget how strong Caleb is.

Oh how big of advantage he has with his evol-- just with a touch of it against your legs, makes you fall down to your knees.

Your clothes were scattered around his office-- leaving you bare. You can feel your ass pound against his pelvis behind. The mix of sweat and saliva painted your back--marked with hickeys and hand marks.

He moves his other hand as it reaches for your hip-- gripping the flesh, the other one spanks your ass as it jiggles you can't help but cry out of pleasure.

The way your aching pussy throbs around his gritty cock is intoxicating. This side of Caleb makes you go feral-- it's just so hot to see him so dominating and controlling over you.

Fucking you so good-- like a good cock sleeve you are.

The arousal sends shivers down your body-- because it's no good, this man will fuck you hours with no breaks.

You look so helpless-- but you can't shake the feeling of how his cock is filling you up so good.

The way his cock is bullying your aching pussy relentlessly:(

You knew he was mad. And it's bad for the part of you.

You knew how much Caleb loathes those higher-ups of the fleet. He hates how they treat him like a lap dog. Just a pet to be commanded to do things by their control.

And no shit-- because Caleb doesn't play when it comes to these things.

It angered him so much-- even of how deep his hatred for them, he never shows it. Instead he would let out his anger by fucking you immensely.

"hah- a-and did you know what those assholes told..m-me?" He growls, his hair sticking out on his forehead. You can't help but cry out in response, of how fast the man's pace is. All you can think of is how you're going back to linkon after this.

Caleb's desk was shaking continuously-- all his important paperwork were scattered around, few already drenched with your juices and his cum.

But he doesn't care-- like hell he will.

Tears stream down your cheeks feeling his gritty cock throb inside of your tight little hole. He's fucking you like there's no tomorrow-- as if he's following a rhythm.

"t-they...told me that I s-should stop bringing outsiders...in the fleet..." He breathes out, hand kneading the plush of your ass. The other one reached out to your hardened clit as he rub circles against it making you gasp as your legs trembled.

You were sure your moans were out of control. You'd just hope nobody passes by the colonel's office at this time.

"I can't...help but...want to kill them off instantly.." He leans over your back, his hot breath against your nape as he plants a kiss. It made you squirm, feeling his hot tongue traced over the plush of your skin.

The heat of sensation seeps through your pussy, as it clenches around his hardened cock. The sound of squelching roams around the room, the mix of your juices and his cum are leaking out of your poor pussy.

"Because....it would mean that I will be separated...hah-..f-from you.." He bites down the flesh of your nape making your eyes widened-- letting out a loud moan as you clench your hands-- trying to endure the pain.

Caleb continues on slamming his gritty cock in your warm pussy-- feeling your climax near, the walls of your pussy tightened around his hardened cock.

"hah-...and we w-ouldn't want that right, s-sweetie?" He whispers, leaving a soft kiss over the bite mark making your breath hitch. You nod in response as you felt your climax releasing-- following Caleb's hot loading cum releasing inside your womb. Thrusting it a little more inside--making sure it takes.

There might be complaints tomorrow from the other officers about the questionable noises from the colonel's office.

Fics of Caleb:

(Wo)men in uniform.

Play your gun right!

Lasting Mark.

Mark your territory.

LADS Men as cigarettes after sex songs

Got your head in a headlock!

[notanactressyayy]

·˚ ₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 | natasha romanoff

. ݁₊ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 . it was a new era of her life. she no longer had missions or a team to rely on — only endless free time, and a bunch of thoughts that weren't really helpful. Natasha for once, had time to pick up her phone — something trivial. through the dating app Tony had dared her to install months ago, she meets somebody. finally, her heart was at peace.

. ݁₊ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — a TW for the photo editing thing. this may be a sensitive topic for some. lonely Nat, insecure Nat — she edits a picture of her body, swearing, oral (N receiving). lots of fluffy stuff, too. set after Civil War.

. ݁₊ 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. this ended up SO MUCH longer than i initially planned. i put a lot of dedication into this so, yeah 🥹

thanks to my lovely @sunswish who helped me with the plot and the proofreading! ♡

The trailer was quiet, except for the faint rustle of the wind through the trees outside. Natasha sat at the small wooden table by the window, her knees pulled up to her chest, a steaming mug of tea resting untouched beside her. The Norwegian countryside was beautiful, vast and unassuming, but the stillness pressed down on her.

Her phone laid on the table, the screen dark. She stared at it for a moment, the faintest flicker of hesitation crossing her face. She’d never been good at this — being still, alone with her thoughts. For years, her life had been one constant motion: missions, battles, briefings, always moving forward because stopping meant thinking, having time to ponder about her life.

Her jaw tightened, and she looked out the window instead. What was she even doing?

She’d fought tooth and nail to become an Avenger, to carve out some sliver of redemption for herself, some sense of belonging in a world she’d spent so long working against. She’d believed in their cause, in their family, even when it meant trusting people with pieces of herself she hadn’t known she was capable of sharing.

And now? The Avengers were gone. Torn apart, like everything else she’d tried to build. She was a fugitive, hunted by the very government she’d once fought to protect. Her friends — her family — were scattered, some in hiding, some in prison. She was left with nothing but her name and a handful of private contractors who worked in the shadows. People she barely trusted, people who barely trusted her. Yet she still needed them for supplies, false documents, and a roof above her head. Funny, she thought.

She reached for her mug, her fingers curling around the warmth of the ceramic, though she didn’t take a sip. She had no mission now, no team to fall back on. No one to call when the silence became too much. She wasn’t sure if she missed the fights or the people more.

A faint vibration against the table snapped her from her thoughts. Her phone. She glanced down, the screen lighting up with a notification — some random email, one of these ‘no reply’ ones, nothing important. She hesitated, then picked it up anyway, her thumb hovering over the screen.

Scrolling through her phone felt… strange. Almost trivial. She opened Instagram, an app she barely used but kept around for the rare moments she wanted to feel tethered to something normal. The feed was full of snapshots of a life she didn’t recognize—vacations, dinners, smiling faces, people celebrating milestones she wouldn't ever have.

And right then, the name ‘Avengers’ didn’t make sense for her anymore. She was supposed to have this. This life where she would have a fun moment and think ‘oh, yes! i should absolutely shoot a pic and add to my stories’. After all, Natasha was just an unavenged girl, woman, human. A picture of a mother celebrating her daughter's birthday wasn't just one more picture showing on her feed. It was her dream.

She scrolled absently, her mind only half-engaged as her thumb flicked upward. Part of her wanted to throw the phone across the room and forget she’d ever picked it up. But another part—the quieter, lonelier part—held onto it like a lifeline.

She then receives another automatic notification. How has your love life been going? It took her a moment to remember what it was, and when she did, she let out a dry, humorless laugh.

The dating app.

She’d installed it months ago as a joke, because Tony had bet her she wouldn’t. She could still hear his voice in her head, teasing her. “Come on, Nat. You might actually meet someone who doesn’t want to kill you for once.” At the time, it was funny. She’d downloaded it, filled out the bare minimum of the profile, like: cat lover, captivating green eyes & martial arts enjoyer and promptly forgotten about it.

Her finger hovered over the icon now, her heart giving a strange, uncomfortable twirl in her chest. The idea of opening it felt absurd. What would she even say to someone? What would they see in her, beyond the scars and the lies and the mess she’d made of her life? That was made of her life? Could she even try and have a relationship? When throughout her life, she didn’t ever have a conversation about feelings? Clint was the closest attempt to that — he knew her past, more than the others, at least. So she spoke to him about things like that before. But he had a wife, kids, a home.

Natasha damned her heart every single day — for wanting a connection with somebody — for wanting to be somebody's, and for not being content with what she already has.

What does she even have?

She sighs deeply as she gathers a little bit of courage (that usually wasn't necessary when one was to open a simple app in their phone) and presses her thumb against the icon. Her eyebrows show a little frown as she realizes the app wasn’t open — she had held the icon for too long, making the options add to home and uninstall pop up on her screen.

“Goddammit,” she mutters to herself. Maybe she had done it on purpose. She considers choosing the second option. But her thumb, once again, hovers over the uninstall word for too long.

She was just confused. In conflict, with something so small. Although, she was braver than that.

“Let's just get over with this.” She mutters to herself as she finally opens the app — SparkMatch, she reads the name, for the first time. She lets out a scoff. Though the feeling of unease didn't take long before coming back to her. The about me section was completely empty, in exception for-

“Captivating green eyes. Cat lover.” she reads the words she had typed, aloud, cursing herself. It was what she had written in order to simply make the Iron Man laugh and leave her alone. “Great job, Romanoff. Truly irresistible.”

Scrolling down her profile, which was named only @Natasha1203— having in mind that her surname wasn't one to be openly shared — she finds the photos she had chosen, months ago, without really thinking much. Her gallery didn't have much cheering stuff. They were as nondescript as possible: a picture of a skyline she had taken while on the run. Her in sunglasses, her most common accessory. And.. a single closeup of her face, that felt too honest for comfort. She doesn’t know why she left that one there, for the world to stare at. Maybe it was the one moment where she caught herself looking like.. well, herself. If somebody squinted their eyes, they could see a small scar on her shoulder. She hoped people wouldn’t do that.

Summing up: the profile was a mess. And that was a perfect reflection of the person behind it. She doesn't make a move to edit any information — before remembering an important detail. It would be nice to change her profile's name, in case anybody (especially Tony, that was aware of this) tried to look for her.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203 was the new username.

Perfect. She does a little ‘tsk’ with her tongue, a little habit she developed when finishing a task.

Flirting was easy. She had been trained for it — trained in the art of seduction, molded into a woman that could slip into any persona, say the right words, touch in the right way, just to get what she needed. But this wasn't one of the spy programs she had access to in SHIELD. This wasn't about manipulation or information extracting. This was trivial. Normal.

Natasha browses through the app for a while. She stops in profiles of strangers that smiled back at her through their pictures — men, women, who were teachers, doctors, engineers. People with families and hobbies. Who had the chance to live a life without looking over their shoulders every second. Yet something about this.. gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. It was faint, but it was there. Knowing all these little details about random folks, she could find small pieces of herself in each one: some did ballet when they were little. Some had a scar due a kitchen accident. Some did karate simply for liking the sport. Some liked peanut butter sandwiches. She quietly giggles, her previous nervousness replaced by a silly feeling.

Maybe it wasn't that bad. It is not like a random person was gonna crawl out of her phone screen and have a date right then, anyway. And there was another ‘problem’. This app was still american, while she was in a whole new timezone.

What a relief.

She shifts on the small couch of her trailer, now laying down on it, allowing herself to get entertained with SparkMatch. She even found some profiles that were probably deactivated by now, seeing that they were created, like, a decade ago. She purposefully clicked on the small heart on them, meaning Match. She softly laughs.

But the sound is interrupted by herself as she finds a specific user.

It was a minimalist profile — elegant, even. It didn't say much about the person's personality: it said enough. It wasn't extravagant or absurd like some she had found. And it certainly wasn't a mess, like hers.

Y/n. 34. Not good at small talk, but I'm a good listener. A photographer, currently traveling around. Just someone who thinks the world is too big of a place to stay idle for too long. Currently: Norway

It was truly something else, compared to the live, laugh, love bios or the gym rats flashing their abs.

Her curiosity picks up, and soon enough, she sees a picture of them in Oslo.

And it was posted just three days ago.

So they were active in this app. But this wasn't what her mind grasped. Traveling in Norway. International trips usually didn’t last just three days, right? So that meant they were still there. There with her.

Out of all countries in the world, they were there?

She reads the bio again. Currently: Norway.

A strange shiver runs down her spine the more she thinks about the situation she found herself into. She bites on her lip, her stomach twirling almost painfully, like a school girl texting her crush. She was the Black Widow, for God's sake. She didn't get to go on silly dates and receive flowers.

No. This was too much. Without closing the app, she locks the screen of her phone again and drops it to the couch, quickly standing up and running her fingers through her hair. There were many reasons why this wouldn't work, especially when she was a fugitive and could get recognized, even in a small cafe.

Heading to the tiny kitchen, she opens a drawer on the countertop and grabs a bottle opener, opening the fridge and taking a beer out. She removes the cap and downs the bottle with no second thought, the bitter liquid ripping down her throat. Deeply breathing, shakily. Amidst the vast emptiness, not only of the place she was currently settled, but of her heart too, she fought back tears. The glass of the bottle clicks against the marble countertop as she places it down, her hands tightly gripping onto the edge of the furniture, holding herself up. It was a hard decision to make, whether to take this opportunity and keep it safe in her heart, or to let it go and pretend it never happened in the first place.

But she wouldn't be able to rest tonight knowing she simply did nothing about that special person the app charitably put into her hands. So, on this night, the unshatterable Natasha Romanoff did something she never thought she would. Before heading to bed, she picked up her phone again. Gladly, she didn't have to look for the profile once more. She simply had to press onto the small heart next to their picture. And she did.

The screen flashed: It's a match!

Natasha blinked in surprise, almost dumbfounded by this message. But this was meant to happen, right? Now, she could only hope that she would receive something in return by the morning.

It felt.. good. She had something to expect, a little flicker of hope that followed her even in her dreams, that made her feel better than she could ever imagine.

And this was just the start.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When the next day came, all of Natasha’s thoughts regarding the whirlwind of recent events were replaced by a single thing: that person. That New Yorker who was currently in Norway to take photos for a personal album. She initially wondered if she could really lower her guard like this and not think too much about Secretary Ross — who was still after her — but it was not like she would leave this trailer anytime soon. Thus, she needed a distraction, something to keep her brain entertained until this whole mess was over.

Talking to them was a relief — a solace she had been needing and didn't even know until now.

Talking to you.

Right away you had seen the match notification of SparkMatch, even if it was already one in the morning when it arrived. You sent this woman- Fanny? a message, and waited, but no response came until the next day. You wondered if she had impulsively pressed the match button and ran away from her phone out of nervousness. You actually imagined it, seeing the one picture of herself she published on her feed. Her profile was.. vague, to say at least, but she was incredibly beautiful, and indeed had captivating green eyes, like she boldly described herself. It made you smirk to your phone’s screen. No, genuinely smile.

It was pretty much clear that she wasn't a dating app person. And neither were you! You just had a better sense of organization than her, that's for sure. What if you two could really be a match?

As the day went on, you two engaged into a conversation that was surprisingly enjoyable for both sides. Opening the inbox chat, that could be found:

@Y/n: Good night. Is your real name Fanny Longbottom?

— eight hours later —

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Good morning! The first thing you ask a woman is if her name is real?

@Y/n: It just doesn't suit a beautiful redhead with captivating green eyes.

Natasha groaned to herself at this, laughing. The humor in the text was evident, and she loved that.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Right. It was a joke. You can call me.. Nat.

It was a glimpse of her name. It could be Natasha, Natalia, Natalie.. or all of these.

@Y/n: Nat.. that is better. Yet still very vague. Like your whole profile.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Perhaps my whole account here is a joke.

@Y/n: And we still matched. And sincerely, I'm intrigued. Intrigued and curious.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a dangerous thing to tell someone you just met.

@Y/n: Personally, I wouldn’t call a cat lover dangerous.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Will you stop mocking me for my irresistible biography or what?

It was an easy playful banter. It felt light. Not like these conversations where you had to directly ask the other person to be nice to you.

@Y/n: You just don’t strike me as someone who spends much time on dating apps. What brings you here?

With that, she debated whether to mention Tony’s dare or not. She could talk about it, but not for now. If she’s sincere, about how much she needed not to be alone anymore, this could lead to something good, more profound.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: I’m just trying something new. What about you? Norway seems kinda away from the rest of the world.

@Y/n: It is. But sometimes you have to go far to find what you’re looking for.

Natasha leaned back, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She didn’t know who you were, or why your words seemed to settle something in her chest, but for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she felt.. excited.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Have you found it?

@Y/n: Not yet. But I have a feeling I might be in the right place.

She stared at the message, her mind turning over the possibilities. She was already glad that this hadn’t started with “hey, you’re cute” or “what’s up?”, and now? It felt like she was in a dream — to find someone that shared her ideals, or that at least, thankfully, sounded like a mature adult.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Maybe Norway isn’t so bad after all.

@Y/n: So you’re also here!

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That seems like an excited message to me.

Gladly, her phone’s camera wasn’t capturing anything. Because she swore her eyes were sparkling right now.

@Y/n: Of course I’m excited, Nat. Now I have something else to think about other than shooting pictures.

Natasha stared at the reply, her fingers lightly brushing against the edge of her phone. There was something disarming about your words — direct, yet not forceful. And the way you used her name so casually made her blush.

She hesitated, before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: What do you shoot? Other than clever replies, apparently.

@Y/n: Street photography. Portraits, mostly. But I’ve been known to dabble in the occasional cat picture. You know, for balance.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Balance is important. What would the world do with no cat pictures?

@Y/n: I shudder to imagine it. Speaking of balance.. would you let me buy you coffee sometime? Or would that be too much?

Her breath caught. You really didn’t waste time, did you? she thought. For a moment, her walls threatened to go up again — she could almost hear that little voice in the back of her mind telling her that this was not a good idea, that it wasn’t smart, safe.

But she silenced it. It was too soon, for sure — but she couldn’t knock it till she tried it.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That depends. Are you going back to New York in the next few days?

@Y/n: I don’t have a specific date to go back. So I guess it depends on how things go.

Yeah. Now she felt a little pressured. It was a dilemma, she could be the reason you stayed or left. Adrenaline coursed through her veins — that was determination.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: It’s not like I am going anywhere anytime soon, either. But.. I like to play hard to get sometimes. How about we wait and see how things go?

@Y/n: Hard to get, huh? Well, patience is a virtue. Let me know when you feel like stopping the chase.

And you two went on like that — talking about your favorite portraits, sending her some — receiving her compliments, which sounded way too genuine for your liking. It was casual, like talking to a friend. Natasha didn't take long to start feeling comfortable with texting you. If she weren't a spy without a private number, she would've asked for your WhatsApp. Or maybe she was just exaggerating. The thing was: she didn't have to wonder about how to answer you. Your way of having conversations was so nice that she didn't feel forced to text back.

And with these new discoveries, Natasha felt like she could be in this new country without feeling too out of place. She feared that in the end this would be just one momentary experience, one of the many personas she played.

But shockingly, for once, she didn’t feel like paying attention to her overthinking.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

Weeks had passed, and the nightly silence Natasha once dreaded was now filled with something else. Her phone screen, once cold and impersonal, had become an opening to something warmer. A new phase of her life. She never thought she would be so close to a mobile device before. Supersecret agents couldn’t have personal ones other than burner phones, it was risky — they could get hacked, tracked, recognized. She didn’t have a number, or an email with her name, bank accounts, or any sort of thing that could link her to the authorities. She only had TikTok, Instagram, some games like Candy Crush Saga and her newest best friend, SparkMatch.

Everyday, without fail, your conversations flowed effortlessly. You spoke about everything: Norway’s quiet beauty, silly anecdotes, and even the mundane things that somehow became meaningful when shared. She made herself get used to the habit of not thinking much. This wasn’t part of the plan — or rather, there was no plan. This constant connection grounded her in a way she didn’t fully understand.

Having someone willingly care about her, without having to ask, beg for it — she couldn’t understand.

This evening, after eating her exquisite caviar and drinking champagne, she settled onto her couch with a blanket draped over her shoulders. Her phone buzzed, and her mind involuntarily anticipated your witty reply, or question about her day.

Instead, a picture greeted her.

It wasn’t posed or staged — just you. mid-laugh, with a goofy expression that instantly betrayed your attempt to be serious. Your hair was a bit disheveled, and the lighting was off, but the image carried a kind of authenticity Natasha couldn’t let pass. The caption reads:

@Y/n: I don’t usually do selfies, but I figured you deserved to see what you’ve been stuck talking to all this time.

It was caring. You thought about her often enough to send a picture of yourself, doing absolutely nothing important.

Natasha softly blinked at the picture, completely still as her brain worked to process what she was looking at. It wasn’t just a picture. There was trust behind it, a hidden message. She couldn’t tell where you were getting at with this action — actually, she could. She just tried to convince herself of the contrary, afraid of putting her hopes up and screwing up afterwards.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Hi. I wasn’t expecting that.

@Y/n: Hi! How are you right now?

She bites her lip, incredulously chuckling. She was almost certain that this question was supposed to come before the picture.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Better.

She was feeling better, but not just that — she was feeling.. something. Something like.. seen. Like she was remembered by someone, like she existed, for once.

And those feelings stirred something even deeper within her.

The connection was becoming deeper — it was just now that she realized that the flirting which occurred every now and then wasn’t meaningless. It had a deep impact on her, in her soul — as a friend, as a person, and mostly.. as a woman. She needed it. She needed someone to like her, to pay attention to her, to see her — intimately, closely. Even better when this someone wasn’t a superficial person, and actually one who she related to and felt like she could share this dormant part of herself.

So she decides to share a picture, too.

She sits upright on the couch, the blanket falling and pooling around her hips as she opens the camera. She switches from the back camera to the frontal one, and takes a selfie. She was wearing a simple grey tank top, so her shoulders, collarbone and neck were on display. She wasn’t smiling smiling, just briefly, just enough to make a friendly expression. It was soft, tender. Unlike the deadly Black Widow.

Thankfully, for you, she didn’t have to be that.

So she presses send, laying back again and staring at the screen in anticipation — her eyes closely watching as the send mark changed into seen, that then turned into open. It stayed like that for a long while — like you were examining the picture and weren’t ashamed of it.

It gave her goosebumps.

The typing bubble appeared again after what felt like an eternity.

@Y/n: You’re beautiful, Nat.

It was a compliment you had already used on her. But this situation? Oh, it felt so, so different. You were talking about the simplicity, the domesticity of her in this closeup, the softness.

Fueling the fire that started to burn within her on this specific day.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Just a selfie.. don't get carried away. I'm hardly camera ready.

@Y/n: It's more than a selfie for me. It made my day. If that's not camera ready, I wonder how it'll be like when you try.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Would you like to see?

Oops. She didn't think before sending this one.

@Y/n: Hell, yes.

Her mind was immersed, totally consumed by the attention you were giving her — no jokes, no hints, just shameless flirting. Standing from the couch, she walks to her small bedroom, which was already dark, gladly — she closes her door, and slumps on her bed. Seduction was her nature, she couldn't control it. Though it wasn't necessarily a bad thing right now. Reaching her hand out, she turned on her yellow dim lamp, a gentle, warm glow casting her skin, making a better environment for the incoming picture.

She reopened the camera and adjusted herself in a comfortable position — knees pulled up, her left hand resting above her stomach as she held her phone with her right one above herself — taking the photo. There was auburn red hair all over the pillows, some strands framing her face perfectly. There was skin showing — a bit of her thighs, her arms, waist.. the curves of her body leaving room for imagination.

And something that she forgot about for the longest time.

The bullet scar above her left hip.

She stared at the photo on her screen, finger hovering over the "Send" button instinctively. The lighting was perfect, the pose effortless yet captivating. Her expression was soft, relaxed — but her pupils were darkened, a hint of the sinful emotions coursing through her body. But her eyes fell to the scar.

It was unavoidable, cutting through the smooth expanse of her pale skin like a brutal reminder. The bullet scar left by the Winter Soldier, a relic of her past life, stood out glaringly in the image. Her jaw clenched as a familiar wave of self-consciousness surged through her, a feeling she thought she had buried already.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the headboard as her thumb swiped to open the editing tools. It took her less than a minute to brush the scar away, leaving her skin unmarked, untouched. Natasha tilted her head, scrutinizing the result. The photo looked… perfect. Too perfect, perhaps, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on that.

With a deep breath, she pressed send.

Unlike your other conversations, she felt.. heavy. Like the instinct of having to show her perfect body in order to be liked was speaking louder than her rational side.

The message was delivered almost immediately, but the seconds felt drawn out, agonizingly long. When the "seen" indicator appeared, her heart raced. She bit the inside of her cheek, anticipating your response.

The reply came swiftly:

@Y/n: Wow. I’m speechless.

She smirked (bittersweetly), her thumb hesitating for only a moment before typing back.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: That’s a first. Usually, you always have something to say.

The typing bubble reappeared, and she waited, her heart thudding in her chest.

@Y/n: You make it hard to think, Nat.

Natasha felt warmth flood her cheeks, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Don’t let it go to your head.

@Y/n: I think it's too late for that.

For a moment, she wondered what you would have said if you’d seen the unedited version. Would you have found it ugly? Would you have pitied her? Or would you have admired her for wearing it like the badge of survival it was?

In her dreams, you would have worshiped it.

Before she could send anything else, you decided to take a shot on meeting her in person once again.

@Y/n: I'm sorry, I'll have to suggest. How about this: I'll find the best café within a 10-mile radius, and you can tell me if my photography is as good as my coffee recommendations.

Time passed, and the accusations against Natasha had toned down a bit. Maybe, just maybe, if she's careful enough, she can do this. The first date she'd have in what, a decade?

It was refreshing. And scary. But overall refreshing.

@Fanny_Longbottom1203: Deal. But I will be the judge in both.

The day and place was decided — it would be in Oslo, downtown — a café, where tons of people would be present. Natasha, growing up, became a master in blending in.

If fate decided to be on her side, this would be one of the best days of her life.

She tossed her phone onto the pillow beside her and laid back, staring at the ceiling. Her fingers brushed the scar again, tracing its jagged edges as if trying to understand its place in this new chapter of her life.

“Not everyone gets to see this side of me,” she murmured to herself.

And for the first time, she wasn’t sure if that was a warning or a promise.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

The café buzzed with the warmth of chatter, the soft clinking of ceramic mugs, and the occasional burst of laughter. It was tucked into a quiet corner of downtown Oslo, a place where the world felt comfortably distant yet close enough for her to disappear if necessary. Hours before, Natasha had dressed herself up — a burgundy dress, black tights, her usual black boots — and her jacket, of course. Her hair was naturally wavy, falling down her shoulders and back — and the makeup was simple. She wasn't a woman for makeup. But this time, she wore red lipstick and the faintest glitter eyeshadow.

She felt like a doll. It was stupid, a thing she liked to imagine how it would feel like back then — in the Red Room, where the girls wore black uniforms — grey sometimes, but always robotic, always calculated. It was a comforting feeling, which made her want to go back in time and tell little Natalia: yes! we are older now, and we are all dolled up for the date of our dreams.

Natasha arrived early — of course she did. She always did. She chose a seat by the window, her back to the wall, a vantage point where she could see everyone coming and going. Her heart wasn’t racing, but there was a slight tension in her chest. She sipped her coffee slowly, the warm bitterness grounding her as she kept an eye on the door. Then, you walked in.

Her doubting thoughts flew away the moment the green eyes landed on you.

She recognized you instantly. Your smile was smaller in person but somewhat warmer, more genuine. You scanned the room briefly before your eyes landed on her, and for a moment, Natasha thought she saw your breath catch. She softly smirks, gaze involuntarily daring.

Come and get me. This? Is all for you.

She shaked that thought away as she watched you approach her table — your clothes, your style, your body language — she scanned it all. The Black Widow wasn't an easy woman to conquer, which made her dump most of the people that tried to hit on her in the past. You were a rare exception, someone who didn't even have to try to make her heart race. It happened in it’s own.

“You made it,” Natasha said, standing to greet you, to give you a quick hug — the subtle press of your body against hers making her skin tingle. Damn it. She adjusted her dress before sitting back down. You did the same, sitting in front of her.

“Of course I did. This date was all I could think about,” you reply, eyes drinking her in, like she was the prettiest woman to exist. She truly was. “No. Let me rephrase. Seeing you was all I could think about.”

Natasha lets out a soft laugh, shifting her gaze towards the floor. She was so pale that the fact that she was blushing was, unfortunately, evident.

“Feels good to finally hear your voice,” she says, resting her chin on her hand as she stares at you. “In person. Not in audio messages or calls.”

After ordering pastries and more coffee for the both of you, the conversation flowed easily, from the usual mundane topics to little jokes that made Natasha chuckle softly. She found herself studying you more and more, the way you gestured when you spoke, the way your eyes lit up when you laughed.

Eventually, the question came.

“So, what’s it like?” you asked, your voice gentle but curious. “Being an Avenger?”

Natasha paused, her fingers brushing the edge of her coffee cup. She had expected this, of course. She knew it would come up. She couldn't simply hide, not when her face had shown up on TV so many times. But if necessary, she would say that this wasn't what she wanted to be anymore. Not with you. She simply wanted to be herself around you, and not the superhero.

She wasn't Natasha who assaulted T'challa. Wasn’t the Sokovia Accords breaker. She hoped you knew by now.

“It’s… complicated,” she said after a moment, her tone measured. “Not as glamorous as it looks on TV, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You smiled. “I’m sure. But it’s still something, isn’t it? Saving the world, fighting alongside legends.”

A faint, nostalgic smile tugged at her lips. “It was something, yeah. But it wasn’t always about saving the world.” Her gaze softened as she thought back. “There was this time when Tony installed this AI in the kitchen — Friday’s cousin or something — to help us cook. It ended up burning everything it touched. Clint started calling it ‘Flamebot,’ and Steve…” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Steve tried to fix it, of course. Said it was ‘worth saving.’”

You laughed, and Natasha found herself smiling more openly. She was rambling.

“And Thor,” she continued, “he once mistook a microwave for some kind of… magical contraption. He tried to ‘summon its power’ with Mjolnir.”

“Did it work?” you teased.

Natasha smirked. “No, but we had to get a new microwave.”

The nostalgia warmed her, but it also left her feeling melancholic. She missed them. Not the missions or the battles, but the team — the messy, dysfunctional family they had become. You seemed to notice the shift in her mood and didn’t push further. Instead, you leaned in slightly, your voice soft.

“I can tell you miss them,” you said.

Natasha nodded, her walls lowering just a fraction. “Yeah. I do.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, realizing she needed some cheering up. This was supposed to be a happy day, not one to bring up sad memories. So you opened your bag, pulling out of it your camera — which made Natasha's eyes brighten up.

“You brought it!” she exclaims. “I almost forgot that you're a photographer,”

“I thought of the possibility of having to register this moment. And I was absolutely right. You look.. beautiful isn't enough to describe it,” you deeply sigh, as if surrendering to her, to this feeling of being completely in love. “Can I please take a picture of you?”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “A picture of me?” she asked, her tone teasing. “You know that’s dangerous, right? What if you decide to sell it to the tabloids?”

You laughed softly, looking at her like a lovesick puppy, shaking your head. “I’m not interested in fame, Nat. Just in you.”

That made her pause, her smirk faltering for just a second. It wasn’t often she heard something so direct, so sincere. She tilted her head, studying you with those piercing green eyes, as if trying to gauge if you meant it.

“Alright,” she said finally, leaning back in her chair. “But only if it’s a good angle. No pressure.”

You grinned, lifting the camera and adjusting the settings with practiced ease. “No such thing as a bad angle with you.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, but the blush dusting her cheeks just got worse. She straightened up, her posture relaxed yet commanding, exuding that natural grace and power.

“Like this?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, a hint of amusement in her voice.

You brought your chair closer, lowering the camera for a moment. “No. Don’t pose,” you said quietly. “Just be yourself.”

That caught her off guard. Her brow furrowed slightly, and she shifted in her seat, unsure of what to do with herself for once.

“Be myself, huh?” she murmured.

You nodded, lifting the camera again. “Exactly. I don’t need the Black Widow. I want Nat.”

Her lips parted slightly at your words, and for a fleeting moment, the mask she wore every day seemed to slip. Her shoulders relaxed, her head tilted to the side, and a genuine, very shy smile spread across her face. “I-”

Before she could protest, the shutter clicked, capturing her in that rare, unguarded moment. “Perfect,” you murmured, lowering the camera and meeting her gaze.

Natasha shook her head, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “You’re trouble, you know that?”

“Only the good kind,” you replied with a grin, setting the camera down.

She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand again as she studied you. “So, do I get to see it? Or are you keeping me in suspense?”

You turned the camera around, showing her the photo on the screen. Her expression softened as she took it in — the warmth in her eyes, the slight tilt of her head, the way the light framed her face, her rosy cheeks. It wasn’t just a picture. It was a glimpse of who she really was, beyond the layers of secrecy and survival. It was simply her, away from espionage, having coffee with her date.

Her unforgettable trip to Norway.

“It’s… good,” she said quietly, her voice almost hesitant.

“Good?” you ask. “It’s stunning. Just like my model.”

Oh, that…

The way you emphasized the word ‘my’.. the way you were making her feel.. actually precious. She was trapped.

“Alright,” she said, sitting back. “You’ve had your fun. Now tell me, do I at least get a copy?”

You laughed, nodding. “Of course. But only if you promise to go easy on me when I take more later.”

She smirks, her confidence returning. “We’ll see about that.”

As the evening wore, the sky showed a beautiful indigo, stars twinkling just like the sparkles in both of your sets of eyes. Natasha allowed herself to relax. To bask in this kind of normalcy that she never had the chance to experience. She had seen a lot, lived a lot. She knew what people could do in response to fear. She saw war and hatred, she saw coldness and cruelty. But from now on, she could live in a lighter way — like her heart was finally at peace.

“Should we get going?” you asked as the people also started to leave, standing and offering her a hand.

Natasha hesitated for half a second before taking it. Your touch was warm, steady, grounding, and promising. As you stepped outside, the cool air of Oslo wrapped around you. The city lights flickered like stars. Natasha felt a strange sense of calm. When she felt your arm enveloping her shoulders, her breath hitched, but she didn’t let it show — leaning into you gently.

“Where to now?” she asked, glancing at you.

“Well, the hotel, if you’re up for it,” you replied, your tone playful but not pushing.

That playfulness was a disguise for more surprises that awaited her back into the hotel room you were hosted in.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

When you unlocked the door to the hotel you're staying in, Natasha followed you inside, her steps hesitant, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. The space was warm and inviting, even if it wasn't a fixed place — especially after knowing you for a good while now — tons of polaroids laying across the bed, portraits, some funko pops that you bought recently. But what caught her attention almost immediately was the bouquet of flowers resting on the counter, tied together with a simple ribbon.

Her brows furrowed slightly as she turned to you, her lips parting in surprise. She didn't even have time to look around the place. “What’s this?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and vulnerability.

You stepped past her, picking up the bouquet and holding it out to her with a smile. “These are for you,” you said.

Natasha blinked, momentarily stunned. Her fingers brushed against yours as she took the bouquet, her touch delicate, as though the flowers were something precious. She examined them quietly — deep purple irises mingled with soft yellow sunflowers and a few sprigs of white heather.

“So you’re a hopeless romantic.. you didn’t take them to the café. What made you so sure I would come back to your place?”

You shrugged, leaning casually against the counter. “I wasn’t sure,” you admitted, meeting her gaze with an honesty that made her pause. “But I hoped you would. And, well, I wanted them to be a surprise. It felt more personal this way.”

Natasha glanced down at the flowers again, her fingers gently brushing over the petals. “You really thought this through, didn’t you?”

“I thought you were worth the effort,” you said simply, the sincerity in your voice making her blink rapidly, as though she was trying to process it.

Natasha smiled as she shook her head lightly, trying to dismiss the overwhelming feeling creeping up on her. “You’re really something, you know that?”

You chuckled, stepping closer. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She tilted her head, her green eyes studying you with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. “It is,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to,” you interrupted softly, stepping closer. “You deserve something beautiful. Something that shows how incredible you are, even if you can’t always see it yourself.”

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The Avenger, the unshakable spy, was speechless.

Natasha turned to face you fully, the bouquet forgotten for a moment as she searched your face. It was almost desperate, how she tried to find reassurance, anything that told her that her past wasn't a problem. “You… you don’t even know the half of it,” she murmured.

“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I want to. Every part of it, Nat. I want to know you.”

For a long moment, she just stared at you, as if trying to decide whether she could let her walls down one more time. Talking through an app was easier. In person felt way too serious. And then, with a deep, trembling breath, she set the bouquet back on the table and closed the distance between you.

She walked with determination, her chest lightly touching yours as her hands found their way to the back of your neck. Her fingernails softly scratched in between the hair strands. She didn't know what to say — she didn't want to say anything. In this very second, she simply wanted to feel. Feel what she never had the privilege to feel as the years passed, because yes, this felt like a privilege. She stood on her tiptoes to press herself closer, doe green eyes pleading.

They told you everything, and you didn't need to be passed the message twice. Your right hand cupped her cheek as the left one wrapped around her waist, bringing her even closer.

She was an angel. Not a deadly spy. A sweet angel to be taken care of. To have her needs satisfied and tears wiped away.

As Natasha felt you responding, she allowed her eyes to close.. basking in the darkness, wanting to be enveloped by this only one sensation. This soft, intense sensation of your lips against hers, moving in a way that wasn't rushed, but wasn't too deliberate either — your hands gripping her waist and bunching the fabric of her jacket, maneuvering her back against the counter. Holding onto your shoulders, she sat on the countertop, welcoming your body between her legs. The kiss lasted. She softly whimpered as she felt your tongue brushing against her bottom lip, asking for entrance, for more of her. And she allowed it. Her head tilted to the side, moving in sync with you — as your tongues danced, a dance she hadn’t discovered before.

Needing air, you pull away, foreheads resting against one another as you deeply inhale, messily. It was torture to stop kissing her, she was good. But air was necessary. Calming down, your arms circle her waist. A smile makes its way to your lips as you see the state she was in. Flushed. And…

“I think your lipstick is a little smudged,”

Natasha felt that — every nerve of her skin was burning, including the parts with the messy makeup. She lets out a huff of air and clears her throat, trying to find her voice so she could respond.

“That was…” she whispers, her hands cradling your jaw. “Wow,”

“You are ‘wow’,” you whisper, using your thumb to wipe away the red lipstick from the corners of her lips, fixing it. “You are perfect,”

“I'm not that- I'm not,” she nervously giggled, humming as you finished fixing her up. She shifted on the countertop, her legs pressing around your hips, as if afraid of you leaving.

“I wish I could give you my set of eyes,” your hands travel down to her thighs, feeling the slightly rough fabric of her tights, but that didn't make her skin any less smoother to the touch.

Her dress was basically all the way up her hips at this point, something she hadn't paid the necessary attention to, due being too busy making out with you — and in the pit of her stomach, a small flicker of panic started rising. This was reckless, so reckless. It is not like she didn’t think of the possibility of things escalating while coming back to the hotel with you, but in her head, she would have more control over the situation — and with that, manage to keep her secrets uncovered.

But she didn’t. Her body was reacting in its own and her mind was cloudy. She had zero control.

Before you could even touch the zipper of her dress, Natasha froze. Her breathing hitched — barely noticeable if you weren’t paying attention, but you were. Her hands, which had been so confident just moments ago, trembled as they pressed gently against your chest.

“Wait,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, as if it might shatter if spoken any louder. “Just.. give me a second,” she muttered, avoiding your gaze as she detangled from your grasp, getting off the counter and hurrying to the bathroom.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed through the quiet room. Natasha leaned against the sink, gripping its edges so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her reflection stared back at her — flushed cheeks, wide eyes, red marks staining the corners of her lips.

Why did she have to choose a matte lipstick?

Her fingers brushed against her side, over the spot where the bullet scar lay. She had hidden it from you before, in that photo. It had seemed harmless at the time — a small deception to preserve the image of herself she wanted you to see. But now, in the raw intimacy of this moment, it felt like a betrayal.

She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face in an attempt to calm the storm raging inside her. She couldn’t lose this moment — not to her own fears, not to a scar that was just one more piece of her long and painful past. But how could she explain it? How could she show you this part of her without ruining everything?

Natasha pressed her hands to her face, inhaling deeply. It’s just a scar, she told herself. It doesn’t define me. It doesn’t change who I am.

Except that it does. And a small tear rolls down her cheek.

You’re not in the Red Room anymore, she reminded herself, gripping the sink harder. And this person… they’re different. They don’t expect you to be perfect. They just want you.

The doubt, the fears that you managed to keep away from her in the past month, came back to her — only a thousand times more painful.

Regardless, Natasha didn't have any more time to think, before she heard the doorknob turning, the damn door she didn't lock opening. She kept her head low, her body stiff as she continued to hold onto the sink. You could see her reflection in the mirror clearly. The fact that she was silently shedding tears.

“You're crying,” you state quietly, taking baby steps towards her.

“And you're bold,” she chuckles, the sound a mixture of tears and sarcasm. She sniffles, using her arm to wipe her nose. “Entering like that.”

“You're crying.” you shake your head, once again standing face to face with her. You reach out your hands and cup her tear stained cheeks. “What's wrong?”

“I…” she debated what to tell you. That she was afraid of physical intimacy since she was young? Or that she hid a crucial thing about her body all this time? “I don't know-”

“You’re hiding something from me and are afraid I’m gonna hate you?” you inquire, voice serious — not mocking, not pressuring.

What?

Her eyes go wide instantly, the tears stopping. You wipe them away from her cheeks, expression softening again as you prepared to explain yourself. “You’re part of a New Yorker superheroes team. There was absolutely nothing that spoke about your personality in SparkMatch, which is expected, Nat. I’m aware that there’s a lot that I don’t know about you. I know where I’m getting myself into.”

“For the longest time, all I wanted was company. Someone to talk to, to listen to me, and that I could listen to them. Someone to see me,” she quietly confesses, leaning her cheeks into your palms. “You did just that. You’re that person.. you filled a huge void in me. You saved me in more ways that you could ever know.”

“I’m so grateful for that.” you lean closer, pressing a lingering kiss against her forehead. She shyly wrapped her arms around your waist, her eyes searching yours once more.

“It’s not just that…” she adds, her breath hitching. She was now determined to continue from where you left off on the entrance counter. “I longed- I long for.. touches, and..”

“And closeness,” you complete, head dipping down and tucking itself into the crook of her neck. “Geez, you smell delicious,”

“It’s… Twilly D’Hermès,” breathless, Natasha speaks, a small hint of pride in her tone as she spoke about her moisturizing cream. “My body lotion,”

It wasn’t cheap, but she liked to spoil herself sometimes. It was also great to deal with the constant bruises and cuts on her skin. Your brows raise in surprise, an incredulous laugh escaping your lips. Natasha could feel the warmth of your breath on her neck, a surge of happiness and ecstasy washing over her.

“That’s.. pretty luxurious, one can say.”

“Can’t a woman spoil herself sometimes?” she retorts — interrupted by a gasp that left her as your lips pressed against her neck. Her eyes flutter shut, her hands holding onto your arms as she did her best to keep talking. “B-Besides, years of bruises and burns require good skincare.”

“I see,” you hum, nuzzling into her, into the spot behind her ear. She felt soft today. Now you knew the reason. After staying like that for a while, you pull back, looking into her eyes with a gaze that showed admiration, respect and concern towards her comfort. “Can I?”

She deeply inhales, feeling you reach for her dress again — only more mindfully now. Shrugging her jacket off her shoulders, she places it next to her on the sink and nods.

She was prepared for the question.

“Okay, hold on.” you kneel down, beginning to untie her boots, catching her by surprise. You remove them and place them aside, before slowly pulling down her tights. “Damn. Why did you have to wear something so complicated?”

“I wanted to feel beautiful,” she quietly chuckles, allowing you to get rid of the excessive fabric on her body.

So, it's time for the dress. You got up to your feet and slid your palm up her spine, holding onto the zipper and then pulling it down. Natasha was expectant, self aware, but mainly, consumed by her desire — finally awake again.

“I'll make you feel beautiful,” you nod, pushing the dress straps off her shoulders and sliding them down her arms.

“You already do.” She breathes.

She doesn't stop you from getting her off the dress. But when it stops below her hips, she tenses up. That's because she sees you freezing. To look at her. It's strange, to have someone look at her body with no apparent emotion. You didn't look at her as if she were a prize to win — an object, or a weapon. Helping her step off the dress, you toss it aside on the floor. Now nothing was disturbing you from taking her in. Her black underwear. Her toned muscles — which you assumed were from years of workout. And her scars. Cuts, a few small keloids, and the bullet scar.

“You didn’t have to hide this from me.” you breathe, dropping to your knees once more as you held her by the hips. She found herself leaning against the sink’s counter, breathing ragged, every nerve of her body buzzing in anticipation. “Makes you even more gorgeous.”

“I—”

“You're fucking gorgeous.” you hiss, kissing above the place that once had a bullet in.

Yup. Her dreams came true.

“Please,” she murmurs, not knowing how to vocalize what she wanted. But the heat pooling between her thighs told you everything.

Your lips make a path from her hip down to her pelvic bone, right hand grabbing her thigh and putting it on your shoulder — coaxing a gasp out of her. Your palm covers her scar, as though it were something precious about herself — making her feel safe, above everything. Natasha, for a moment, almost lost her balance — having to hold her weight with one foot — as your pointer finger hooked around the soaked fabric of her panties, pulling it to the side. You gave her one look. One look before diving in.

You are no longer alone.

She took the message. And her world exploded.

Your tongue working on her — licking past her folds, tasting her — as if committing to memory, and not just using her — her slender fingers tangling into your hair, pulling your head closer to her core, soft moans leaving her mouth as if there was no tomorrow.

“Yes,” She gasps, her hips bucking, seeking more of the kitten licks you showered her clitoris with. “Don't stop.”

None of her sexual experiences had been good in the past — not in the slightest. So having something so good, so pleasuring — it was truly her first.

In the Norwegian hotel, Natasha was more Avenged than she ever was with the Avengers. In the end of the night, she ended up with you on the bed — your clothes making each other company on the floor, as she lost herself — in your body, your scent, your hands on her,

and your love for her.

♡₊˚ 📱・₊✧

You were tucked under the covers when the bathroom's door opened — the hot steam of her recent shower now dispersing and mingling with the air. You sat up, leaning against the headboard as you watched her with a smile.

Natasha walked towards you, the white hotel's towel in her hands, drying her damp hair. She was wearing a t-shirt you lent her, which was probably three times her size. She was smiling. Happily.

Before climbing back onto the bed, she absentmindedly placed the wet towel on an armchair. She gently settled onto your lap, straddling your hips, her head instantly nesting on your shoulder.

“Hi, baby.” you embrace her.

“If I have to leave the country, for any reasons,” she says, her hands tracing random patterns on your back. “Will you come with me?”

“I'll go anywhere with you.” you reply, voice unwavering.

She released the air she didn't know she was holding, and allows herself to relax her sore body. She nuzzled closer as you played with her still damp hair.

Maybe dating apps weren't so bad, after all. If she ever saw her team or Tony again, she would thank him for making her install it.

“Oh, and by the way,”

Natasha whispers, finally. Probably, you were aware. But it was one more thing about her true self she wanted you to know.

“My name is Natalia.”

[shouyuus]

Yeahhhhhh I'm gonna need the mutual cockblocking with Vi, yup.

based off of this ask. PHEW alright so uh, bullet points today bc /pops open another bottle of champagne/ it's that kind of day:

is it rly called bullying if u and vi r bullying each other and ur both like... into it? (neither of u are being subtle, everyone can see the yearning and they're all either super invested in when ur gonna hook up or tired AF of ur shit)

pitfighter!vi who glares at anyone who tries to chat you up at the bar that you frequent after all her fights (u volunteer at the dingy little clinic two doors down from the fighting ring and she thinks ur too naive for the mouth you've got on you -- and you do have a mouth on you dear sweet god), pays the bartender extra to keep an eye on you and double dose whoever is trying to chat you up that night bc hell be damned if vi'll see you leave with any of these weird fuckers

loris is so over vi's tantrums whenever you push yourself between her and someone she's sweet-talking; he knows that vi's just doing it bc she knows that the moment you see her reach out to push the hair of out of another girl's face, you'll be shimmying your way over and wiggling between them, pressing your tits up against the bar, snagging the drink that vi was gonna offer her potential hookup (and yeah, what if vi ordered a drink she knew you'd like better? huh? that's got nothing to do with anything)

"why don't you just take her home?". vi squinting at loris in the dimness of the alley behind the bar, "wh-what? i don't want that -- that conniving little... rabbit -- i like someone who's a bit more bite -- or... whatever." loris hitches an eyebrow, watching vi with a deadpanned look before sighing, "yeah. whatever you say."

whenever your friends ask you why on earth you're so hell bent on keeping vi from hooking up with a rando, you'd frown and huff and "you should see the way she comes into the clinic every other day -- i'm -- i'm doing a public service! she's gonna ruin whoever she gets her hands on and -- and i've gotta watch out for the sisterhood, yknow?" cue all ur friends rolling their eyes, "uh-huh. yeah. right."

the one night that vi manages to get someone halfway to the door, you catch them right before vi manages to lead the girl out into the street, draping yourself across vi's back, giggling as you loop your arms around her neck, "vi! i was looking for you everywhere -- you promised we could hang out after your fight tonight -- did you forget again?" you purposefully stumble into the girl she's with, knocking their hands apart. vi grimaces, narrowing her eyes as she rounds on you, intent on telling you off when she catches sight of what you're wearing -- a black leather skirt that barely kisses the tops of your thighs and a tiny little red croptop that leaves nothing to the imagination, dark fishnets criss-crossing up your legs (her mouth waters at the thought of ripping them apart to bury her fingers in your cunt) --

"uhm... friend of yours?" her would-be date asks, clearly a bit put-off as she looks you over. you pull your face into a girlish pout, batting your lashes at vi, "aw... are you doing this to get back at me for the other night? i said was sorry -- would you feel better if i let you eat me out in the back alley again --"

at that point, the girl vi's with pulls away and vi barely tries to get her back before rounding on you. the dopey grin slides off your face and your eyes glitter like shards of broken glass as vi growls at you, yanking you behind her till you're both in the dim alleyway behind the bar, the thick metal door slamming shut behind you

"what the fuck is your problem?!" she asks. you roll your eyes, scoffing, "whatever the fuck is yours. i've told you that you're supposed to be resting, and you never listen --" "i come to you so you can stitch up my face not so you can give me life advice --" "well i won't have to much of your face to stitch up if you keep on going like this cause you're gonna get yourself killed!" "why the fuck do you care?!" "cause it's my job!"

vi groans, jerking away from you to kick at an already toppled over trashcan, the metallic clank of it ringing through the narrow street

"you don't get paid to cockblock me at the fucking bar --" "and you don't get paid to spend all your winnings bribing the bartender into double-dosing all my potential dates!" vi whirls around then, eyes wide, "i -- i don't know what the hell you're --" you let out a wild shriek of laughter, "oh please! you're not subtle -- and you don't think pete and i have known each other for way longer than he's known you?"

vi huffs, folding her arms defensively over chest, glaring down the alley at the thing strip of light cresting in from the street out front, "that's -- those people -- they're not good for you. they'd --" she swallows hard, "they'd hurt you -- chew you up and spit you back out and --"

you cock your eyebrows, "you don't think i know that? i am from the lanes too, yknow."

vi scowls, "then you should start acting like it."

"what?" "nothing." "no, seriously -- what is it with you?" "nothing! god fuckin' -- forget it -- i'll find another bar to --" "violet."

her eyes jerk up, "how -- who -- how'dyou know my name?"

you sigh, rolling your eyes, "your friend? loris? he told me after the first time you punched a guy for trying to talk to me. you're probably too drunk to remember but --" vi shakes her head, "no i -- i do -- that guy was an ass -- i knew him from back when i used to run jobs for -- well, doesn't matter much now but --"

"i can look after myself, violet," you say. vi scoffs before she can stop herself, "yeah. okay." you sigh, leaning back against the bar's back door, "or are you just so caught up in needing something to protect that you don't see it?"

vi very nearly flinches. "what?"

you purse your lips, "i said what i said." "yeah well, say it again." she closes the space between you both in a few quick strides, crowding into your space, slamming a palm against the door next to your face. to your credit, you don't even blink.

there's a flicker of something behind your eyes that licks fire along the length of vi's spine; "i said -- you should find some other little puppet to work out your problems on because i'm done --"

she's kissing you before you can finish your sentence, and there's nothing caring or gentle about the way she bullies her tongue into your mouth and licks along the backsides of your teeth, nothing kind or caring about the way she yanks you forward by the back of your neck till you're sure you'll be able to feel the ghosts of her fingers against your skin for days and days to come

you moan into her, biting down hard on her bottom lip, grinning when the harsh, metallic tang of blood seeps across your tongue. when she pulls back, you're both panting, and you've never seen her eyes so dark, so hungry and crowded with sharp, thunderheads of lust

"mm, that's one way to shut you up," vi muses, running a thumb along the line of your jaw. you grin, a slanted, fox-sly thing. "admit it, you've been wanting to do that for ages."

vi's lips curl; she leans in close enough for you to taste the cheap whiskey on her breath as she says, "sure, and so have you."

[viiolyns]

cw / mean!cait sorta. strap-on usage. fingering. finger sucking. squirting. not proofread.

“keep going or you won’t cum at all," caitlyn warned, watching as you so desperately tried to get off on a too-small strap. it was on the thinner side, short too. a least favorite, specifically used for situations like these. offering little to no stimulation and you being fucking soaked didn't help at all.

it’s your fault, really—showing out earlier. you felt brave and was attention deprived; whispering the filthiest shit into cait’s ear when no one was watching when you were supposed to be patrolling. teasing her with small kisses and subtle groping here and there. asking for this basically.

such a fucking tease.

tears welled in your eyes, the frustration from needing to cum and not being able to catching up to you. you looked up at her with such a pitiful stare; she almost felt bad. almost. “cait. baby. come on, i'm sorry.” you'd apologize for the umpteenth time, only for it to fall on deaf ears.

and, unfortunately, with her ignoring your pleas of desparation still, you had no choice but to go on.

which you did. for another 20 minutes, but you’re pretty much over it by now. the dildo was still doing absolutely nothing, no matter how hard you’d bounce and grind. your movements slowed; legs aching and breathless from doing all the work, sweat beads building on your forehead. lips all pouty and swollen—looking so incredibly miserable.

a few tears slip down your cheeks. which makes cait crack, finally taking some pity on you.

with a sigh, her slender hands came down to rest on your hips, stopping your movements now, her accent thick as she spoke. “get up and lay back.”

she caught you off guard with the sudden command. but your body responds instantly, your muscles moving without a thought as you rise from her lap and lie down onto the bed. her movements are swift and deliberate as she removes the harness, leaving it discarded on the ground.

in an instant, she moves closer to you, positioning herself between your thighs and without any warning, she pushes three of her fingers into your mouth.

your eyebrows knit together in confusion and she just fucking laughs. it rings in your ears, a sound so mocking it made you want to shrink away. but her words cut through your thoughts, her intent clear. "you didn't think you were getting off that easily, did you? this is a punishment after all," she says, her voice firm. there’s a moment of shock when you feel her long, slender fingers delving deeper, pressing down on your tongue. her command cuts through your surprise, "suck."

almost immediately you do as she says, your mouth clenching around her fingers and sucking on them as she demands. you can feel saliva dripping from your mouth, flowing down your chin. god, you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t enjoying this so fucking much.

she reaches back even farther into your throat, making you gag as tears dripped down you cheeks. her hand comes down to your cheekbones, thumb rubbing up and down, wiping away a few stray tears.

though, the sweetness of her touch disappears abruptly, her fingers withdraw, leaving you feeling empty. a whine leaves your lips as you protest, "cait, what—"

she stuffs her now wet fingers into you, pumping in and out relentlessly.

your thighs snap shut at the abruptness of it all, forcing her to pin your left knee down with her own, free hand planted firm on your right thigh. giving her the perfect angle to just admire how your slick dribbles down her knuckles, swollen lips spread around her dexterous fingers as they curl inside you. hitting that spongey spot that just makes you scream in ecstasy.

“there’s a good fucking girl. just like that.”

you whimper, you whine, you squirm, you squeal, you cry. anything to make her slow down. you didn’t know she was gonna go this fucking fast and hard—she’s cruel, sometimes, sure. but, she knows how sensitive you are. how fast you could cum at this exact moment.

“cait, i can’t, please!”

mercy is not an option. you wanted her attention, so you got it. fucking deal with it.

“oh? like you weren’t just begging me to fuck you stupid in the middle of the council room?” she sneers, palm coming crashing down against your inner thigh. a lighter form of punishment in contrast to what you’re used to.

“you will take it. and you will do so with a ‘thank you’ on your tongue.”

you nod, your voice barely above a whisper as you respond, "th..thank you." you’re close now, so close. if you weren't so worried about further punishment, you'd cum right now.

“uhnn..'m close, baby. gonna..gonna cum—shit."

her pace speeds up at your words, her thumb now adding extra pressure onto your clit. the only sound filling the room being the squelch of your cunt and your pretty moans she loved so fucking much. “hm. go on, pretty. cum for me. soak my fucking fingers.”

you’re squirming beneath her touch, your moans growing louder and louder until you can't take it anymore. and before you can even warn her, hot spurts of your release cover everything, soaking the bed, her fingers, your lower half.

"holy shit," she chuckles, her voice low and sultry. “dirty girl." she brings her fingers up to her lips, licking them clean and savoring the taste. "you’re always so sweet.”

you chuckle, feeling yourself starting to come down from the high. you start to move, ready to get up and clean yourself and the sheets, but she stops you, her hands on your hip, holding you in place.

“darling…”

you’re a fool if you think she’s done for the night.

rushed ending again bc i hate endings ok sue me!!!!!!!

[lazy-dog24601]

Terezi would be way more superhero-y because of the MCU. Also important to note that all the Harry Potter shit in Homestuck wouldn't be around.

All that ICP shit wouldn't be there. That shit does not exist today, Gamzee would be an entirely different character if written today, as in non-existent.

Karkat would be a bit different since rom-coms don't exist anymore. With the boom in "incel" culture all that romance and love shit Karkat liked wouldn't exist. So no Karkat.

Kanaya wouldn't be a vampire since Twilight was just a 2000s thing. Maybe. I don't really know since Kanaya's only character trait is being a lesbian cuck with a chainsaw (no hate to her and not a hs2 thing because we all saw that scene with Vriska, Tavros, and Kanaya right??) so she would probably be into musicals or those cartoons millennials like because they feature lesbians.

Nepeta, Aradia, Sollux, Equius, Eridan, Vriska, Feferi and Tavros would be unchanged. All the culture they're pulling from still exists.

Well, Vriska would probably lust after William Dafoe rather than Nick Cage since Nick Cage hasn't been in a movie in like a decade.

Calliope has a troll-sona so I'll mention it here- she would be way angrier if she was written today. Discourse seems to have gotten rougher so she would be too.

idgaf about the ancestors they're all modern or whatever I guess, Hussie just hates anime so its not like he would have never written Damara

This might be a skill issue (LMAO) but all I see in the internet is a bunch of people fighting about culture, which isn't really reflected in Homestuck. Homestuck is all pop-culture but little politics, and the current internet is all politics. Maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think there were people posting femboy bulges with the caption "all art is political" back in 2011.

I hope I'm wrong.

if homestuck came out today what types of internet guys would the trolls be based on

[jiminomenon]

it’s (not) my right to be hellish

pairing: ex-girlfriend! karina x female reader

tag(s): fluff, exes-to-lovers, second chance romance, jealous karina, a bit of angst, highschool au, karina being down bad as usual

word count: 4.2k

warning(s): alcohol consumption

summary: y/n and jimin were inseparable high school sweethearts, but when y/n asks for a break to figure things out, jimin is left heartbroken and confused. despite her frustration, jimin tries to win y/n back with small gestures, but y/n remains distant. things take a turn when a charming new student, starts getting close to y/n, doing all the things jimin used to do—walking her to class, bringing her food, and even partnering with her for projects. jimin’s jealousy grows as she watches y/n and minho grow closer, and she becomes desperate to prove that she’s the one y/n truly belongs with.

y/n and jimin had been inseparable for as long as anyone could remember. their story began in the hallways of their high school, two years ago, when y/n was a shy transfer student and jimin was the confident, popular girl who seemed to have it all.

it was during a rainy afternoon in their sophomore year when their paths first crossed. y/n had been struggling to find her way to the library, her map soaked and nearly illegible. jimin, ever the savior, had noticed her from across the hallway and approached with an umbrella in hand.

"you look lost," jimin had said, her voice warm and teasing. "need a guide?"

y/n had looked up, startled, only to be met with jimin’s bright smile and sharp, honey-brown eyes. she had stammered out a response, her cheeks flushing as jimin laughed and offered to walk her to the library. that was the beginning of everything.

from that day on, jimin made it her mission to be y/n’s personal tour guide, showing her around the school, introducing her to friends, and even helping her with homework. it didn’t take long for y/n to realize that jimin’s kindness wasn’t just for show—she genuinely cared. and it didn’t take long for jimin to realize that y/n was different from anyone she’d ever met. quiet but witty, reserved but fiercely loyal, y/n had a way of making jimin feel seen in a way no one else ever had.

their friendship blossomed quickly, filled with late-night study sessions, shared lunches, and endless laughter. but it wasn’t until the school’s minjeong formal that things shifted between them. jimin had asked y/n to go with her as friends, but by the end of the night, they were slow-dancing under the twinkling lights, their faces inches apart.

"you’re kind of amazing, you know that?" jimin had whispered, her breath warm against y/n’s cheek.

y/n had laughed, her heart racing. "says the girl who literally has a fan club."

"yeah, but none of them are you," jimin had replied, her voice soft but sincere.

that was the moment y/n knew she was falling for her. and when jimin leaned in to kiss her, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

their relationship had been a whirlwind ever since. jimin was the kind of girlfriend who would show up at y/n’s house at 2 a.m. just because she missed her, who would leave little notes in y/n’s locker with doodles and inside jokes, who would defend her fiercely if anyone dared to say a word against her. she was loud, bold, and unapologetically herself, and y/n loved her for it.

but jimin was also intense. she had a tendency to be possessive, always wanting to know where y/n was, who she was with, and what she was doing. at first, y/n found it endearing—proof of how much jimin cared. but over time, it started to feel suffocating. jimin’s love was all-consuming, and while y/n adored her, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was losing herself in the process.

it didn’t help that jimin had a habit of making decisions for both of them without consulting y/n. whether it was planning their weekends or choosing their classes for the next semester, jimin always took the lead, assuming y/n would go along with it. and y/n did, because she didn’t want to disappoint her. but the more she gave in, the more she felt like she was fading into the background of her own life.

the breaking point came one evening after school, when jimin had announced that she’d signed them up for a weekend trip with her friends without asking y/n first. "it’s going to be so much fun," jimin had said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "you’ll love it."

but y/n didn’t love it. she didn’t want to spend her only free weekend surrounded by jimin’s friends, pretending to be okay when she wasn’t. she wanted time to herself, to breathe, to think. and that was when she realized something had to change.

the rooftop was quiet, the usual hum of the school day replaced by the soft rustle of the evening breeze. y/n stood near the edge, her arms wrapped around herself as she stared out at the fading sunset. behind her, jimin leaned against the railing, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.

"so, what’s up?" jimin asked, her tone casual but laced with curiosity. "you’ve been acting weird all day."

y/n took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. this was it. the moment she’d been dreading but knew she couldn’t avoid any longer. "jimin," she began, her voice steady but soft. "we need to talk."

jimin’s brow furrowed, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "okay... about what?"

y/n turned to face her, her hands clenched at her sides. "i think... i think we need a break."

the words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. for a moment, jimin just stared at her, her expression blank. then, slowly, her confusion turned to disbelief. "a break?" she repeated, her voice rising. "what are you talking about?"

"i just... i need some time to think," y/n said, her voice firm but calm. "everything feels so overwhelming right now. school, family, us... i need space."

jimin let out a short, incredulous laugh. "space? from me? what the hell does that even mean?"

"it means i need time to figure things out on my own," y/n said, her patience already wearing thin. "it’s not about you, jimin. it’s about me."

"bullshit," jimin snapped, her frustration boiling over. "if it’s not about me, then why are you pushing me away? we’ve been through everything together, y/n. why can’t we figure this out together?"

"because i can’t!" y/n shot back, her voice rising now. "i can’t think straight when i’m constantly worrying about us, about you. i need to focus on myself for once."

jimin took a step closer, her eyes blazing. "so, what? you’re just giving up on us? on everything we’ve built?"

"i’m not giving up," y/n said, her voice firm. "i’m just asking for time. is that so hard to understand?"

"yes, it is!" jimin exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. "you’re not making any sense, y/n. if something’s wrong, we fix it. we don’t just take a *break*."

"you’re not listening to me," y/n said, her voice cold now. "i’m not asking for your permission, jimin. i’m telling you what i need."

jimin stared at her, her chest heaving as she tried to process what was happening. "this is ridiculous," she muttered, running a hand through her hair. "you’re being ridiculous."

y/n’s jaw tightened, her patience finally snapping. "i’m done with this conversation," she said, turning on her heel and heading for the rooftop door.

"y/n, wait!" jimin called after her, but y/n didn’t stop. she couldn’t. not when jimin was refusing to listen, refusing to understand.

jimin watched as y/n disappeared through the door, her frustration bubbling over into anger. she kicked the railing, the metal clanging loudly in the quiet evening air. "this is such bullshit," she muttered to herself, pacing back and forth.

but as the anger began to fade, it was replaced by something else—something colder, sharper. determination. if y/n thought she could just walk away, she had another thing coming. jimin wasn’t about to let this go without a fight.

the next day at school, jimin was a woman on a mission. she had spent the entire night replaying the rooftop conversation in her head, and one thing was clear: she wasn’t about to let y/n go without a fight. if y/n needed space, fine. but jimin was going to make sure that space was filled with reminders of how much she cared.

her first move was subtle. she arrived at school early and slipped a note into y/n’s locker. it was short and sweet, written in her messy handwriting: thinking of you. - jimin. she even added a little heart at the end, something she rarely did. as she walked away, she couldn’t help but smirk. y/n would have to appreciate that.

but when y/n opened her locker later that morning, she barely glanced at the note before crumpling it up and tossing it into the trash. jimin, who had been watching from a distance, felt her heart sink. okay, so maybe subtle wasn’t the way to go.

"so, let me get this straight," yizhuo said, leaning back in her chair as she stared at jimin across the cafeteria table. "you’re trying to win y/n back by... leaving her notes?"

"yes," jimin said, her tone defensive. "what’s wrong with that?"

"nothing, if you were in middle school," yizhuo replied, earning a snort from minjeong, who was sitting next to her.

"hey, it’s a start," jimin argued, crossing her arms. "i’m trying to show her i care."

"by leaving her notes that she probably didn’t even read?" minjeong chimed in, raising an eyebrow. "face it, jimin. you’re going to have to step up your game if you want y/n back."

jimin groaned, running a hand through her hair. "what am i supposed to do, then? she won’t even talk to me."

"maybe you should try talking to her instead of leaving cryptic notes," aeri suggested, her tone calm but pointed. "you know, like a normal person."

jimin glared at her friends, but deep down, she knew they were right. if she wanted y/n back, she was going to have to do more than leave notes in her locker. she was going to have to fight for her.

her next attempt was more direct. after school, she waited by y/n’s classroom, leaning casually against the wall as students filed out. when y/n finally appeared, jimin pushed off the wall and fell into step beside her.

"hey," jimin said, her tone casual but her heart racing. "need a ride home?"

y/n didn’t even look at her. "no, thanks," she said, her voice flat.

"come on, it’s raining," jimin pressed, gesturing to the downpour outside. "you’ll get soaked."

"i’ll be fine," y/n said, pulling her hood up and stepping out into the rain.

jimin watched her go, frustration bubbling up inside her. "stubborn," she muttered under her breath. but she wasn’t about to give up.

the next day, jimin decided to go all out. she showed up at school with a bouquet of y/n’s favorite flowers—white lilies—and waited for her by the entrance. when y/n arrived, jimin stepped in front of her, holding out the flowers with a hopeful smile.

"for you," jimin said, her voice soft but confident.

y/n stared at the flowers, then at jimin, her expression unreadable. "jimin, what are you doing?"

"trying to win you back," jimin said, her tone earnest. "i know i messed up, y/n. but i’m not giving up on us."

y/n sighed, her shoulders slumping. "jimin, i told you—"

"i know what you told me," jimin interrupted, her voice firm. "but i’m not going to just sit back and let you walk away. not without a fight."

y/n looked at her for a long moment, then shook her head. "i can’t do this right now," she said, stepping around jimin and walking into the school.

jimin stood there, the flowers still in her hands, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. but as she watched y/n disappear into the crowd, she felt that familiar determination flare up again. she wasn’t done. not even close.

later that day, jimin found herself sitting on the floor of yizhuo’s bedroom, surrounded by her friends. minjeong was scrolling through her phone, aeri was sketching in her notebook, and yizhuo was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling.

"so, let me get this straight," yizhuo said, breaking the silence. "you tried to win y/n back with flowers, and she just... walked away?"

"yes," jimin said, her tone defensive. "what’s wrong with flowers?"

"nothing, if you’re in a drama," yizhuo replied, earning a laugh from minjeong.

"maybe you’re trying too hard," aeri suggested, not looking up from her sketchbook. "y/n doesn’t seem like the type to be won over by grand gestures."

"then what am i supposed to do?" jimin asked, her frustration evident. "i can’t just do nothing."

"maybe you should give her some space," minjeong said, finally looking up from her phone. "you know, like she asked."

jimin groaned, leaning back against the bed. "i don’t know how to do that."

"clearly," yizhuo muttered, earning a glare from jimin.

the next few days were a blur of failed attempts. jimin tried everything—leaving y/n’s favorite snacks on her desk, offering to help her with homework, even flirting with her in public. but no matter what she did, y/n remained distant, her walls firmly in place.

it wasn’t until the new student, minho, transferred to their school that jimin realized just how much trouble she was in. minho was tall, handsome, and charming, and from the moment he stepped into the classroom, all eyes were on him. including y/n’s.

jimin watched as minho introduced himself to the class, his smile easy and confident. when he took the seat next to y/n, jimin felt her stomach drop. this was bad. really bad.

jimin had always been observant. it was one of the things y/n used to love about her—how jimin would notice the little things, like when y/n was having a bad day or when she needed a pick-me-up. but now, that same observant nature was driving jimin crazy.

ever since minho had transferred to their school, jimin couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to be everywhere y/n was. it started small—minho walking y/n to her classes, carrying her books, and even offering her snacks from his lunch. things that jimin used to do. things that were supposed to be her things.

at first, jimin tried to brush it off. so what if minho was being friendly? it didn’t mean anything. but then, it escalated.

walking to class

jimin was on her way to her next class when she spotted y/n and minho walking down the hallway together. minho was laughing at something y/n had said, his hand lightly brushing her arm as they walked. jimin felt her stomach twist.

"since when does she let him walk her to class?" jimin muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she watched them disappear around the corner.

she couldn’t help but remember the first time she’d walked y/n to class. it had been raining, and y/n had forgotten her umbrella. jimin had swooped in, offering to share hers, and y/n had smiled at her in a way that made jimin’s heart skip a beat. now, minho was the one making y/n smile, and jimin hated it.

lunch time

jimin was sitting with yizhuo, minjeong, and aeri in the cafeteria when she noticed minho sitting with y/n at a table across the room. he was handing her a container of food, his smile wide and genuine.

"is that... sushi?" jimin asked, her voice tight as she stared at them.

"looks like it," yizhuo said, following jimin’s gaze. "why? you jealous?"

"no," jimin snapped, though her clenched fists said otherwise. "i just... i used to bring her sushi. it’s her favorite."

"well, looks like minho knows that too," minjeong said, her tone teasing.

jimin glared at her friends, but her attention was quickly drawn back to y/n and minho. y/n was laughing at something minho had said, her eyes crinkling in that way jimin loved. it was the same laugh jimin used to elicit, and now minho was the one causing it.

driving her home

after school, jimin was waiting by her car, hoping to catch y/n and offer her a ride home. but when y/n finally appeared, minho was right beside her, his car keys dangling from his fingers.

"need a ride?" minho asked, his tone casual but his smile knowing.

"actually, i—" y/n started, but jimin cut her off.

"i can drive you," jimin said, stepping forward. "like i always do."

y/n hesitated, glancing between jimin and minho. "it’s okay, jimin. minho already offered."

jimin felt like she’d been punched in the gut. "since when do you let him drive you home?" she asked, her voice sharper than she intended.

"since now," y/n said, her tone firm. "thanks anyway, jimin."

and with that, y/n climbed into minho’s car, leaving jimin standing there, her hands clenched at her sides.

group projects

the final straw came during class, when their teacher announced a group project. "pair up with your usual partners," the teacher said, and jimin immediately turned to y/n, expecting her to do the same.

but before jimin could say anything, minho was already sliding his desk next to y/n’s. "partners?" he asked, his smile easy and confident.

y/n hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "sure."

jimin felt like the ground had been ripped out from under her. "what about me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

y/n glanced at her, her expression apologetic but firm. "i think it’s better if we work with other people this time.

jimin stared at her, her heart pounding in her chest. this was supposed to be their thing. they always worked together. always. but now, y/n was choosing minho over her, and jimin didn’t know how to handle.

a party was hosted by one of the seniors, a popular guy named jaehyun who was known for throwing the best parties in school. it was the kind of event everyone talked about for weeks, and invitations were highly coveted. jimin hadn’t planned on going—she wasn’t in the mood for loud music and crowded rooms—but yizhuo had insisted.

"you’ve been moping around for weeks," yizhuo had said, her tone firm. "you need to get out of the house and have some fun. who knows? maybe y/n will be there."

jimin had rolled her eyes at the time, but the thought of seeing y/n had lingered in the back of her mind. so, when minjeong and aeri had shown up at her door that evening, dressed to impress and ready to go, jimin had reluctantly agreed.

"fine," she had said, grabbing her jacket. "but if this turns into a disaster, i’m blaming all of you."

"noted," minjeong had replied with a grin. "now let’s go before we miss the good snacks."

the party was in full swing by the time they arrived, the bass from the music thumping through the walls and the air thick with the smell of sweat and cheap alcohol. jimin had been drinking for hours, her frustration and jealousy bubbling over with every sip. she had come to the party with yizhuo, minjeong, and aeri, hoping to distract herself from the mess that was her life. but then y/n walked in—with minho.

jimin’s heart dropped the moment she saw them. y/n looked stunning, as always, her laughter ringing out as minho leaned down to whisper something in her ear. jimin felt her stomach twist, her grip tightening around the red plastic cup in her hand.

"you okay?" yizhuo asked, her voice cutting through the noise. she had been watching jimin all night, her concern growing with every drink jimin downed.

"i’m fine," jimin muttered, her eyes never leaving y/n and minho. "just peachy."

yizhuo followed her gaze, her lips pressing into a thin line. "you know, maybe you should just talk to her. sober."

"i’ve tried talking to her," jimin snapped, her voice rising. "she doesn’t listen. she’s too busy with him."

before yizhuo could respond, jimin was on her feet, her cup abandoned on the table as she made her way across the room. her vision was slightly blurry, her steps unsteady, but her determination was unwavering. she wasn’t going to let y/n walk away from her again. not without a fight.

y/n was standing by the snack table, laughing at something minho had said, when jimin appeared in front of her. her cheeks were flushed, her eyes glassy, and her words slurred as she spoke.

"what are you doing with him?" jimin demanded, her voice loud enough to make a few heads turn.

y/n blinked, her smile fading. "jimin? are you drunk?"

"maybe," jimin said, crossing her arms. "but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re here with him."

minho raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "is there a problem?"

"yes, there’s a problem," jimin snapped, her frustration boiling over. "you’re always around her, doing all the things i used to do. walking her to class, bringing her food, driving her home—now you’re here with her at a party? what’s next, huh? are you going to start holding her hand too? kissing her?"

"jimin," y/n said, her voice sharp. "stop it."

"no, i’m not going to stop," jimin said, her voice rising. "you don’t get to just replace me, y/n. i was there for you when no one else was. i was the one who made you laugh, who held you when you were sad, who loved you more than anything. and now you’re just... what? throwing that all away for him?"

y/n stared at her, her expression a mix of shock and frustration. "jimin, you’re being ridiculous."

"am i?" jimin shot back, her voice cracking. "because it sure feels like you’re forgetting everything we had. everything i did for you. and for what? so you can play house with some guy who doesn’t even know you like i do?"

the room had gone quiet, the music fading into the background as everyone turned to watch the scene unfold. y/n’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but before she could respond, jimin took a step closer, her voice softening.

"i love you, y/n," jimin said, her words slurred but sincere. "i love you so much, and it kills me to see you with him. please, just... come back to me."

y/n stared at her, her heart pounding in her chest. she had missed jimin more than she cared to admit, and seeing her like this—vulnerable, desperate, and completely honest—made it impossible to stay strong.

"jimin," y/n said, her voice soft but firm. "you’re drunk."

"so what if i am?" jimin said, her voice breaking. "it doesn’t change how i feel. i love you, y/n. i always have, and i always will."

y/n hesitated for a moment, then grabbed jimin’s hand and pulled her away from the crowd. "come on," she said, her tone firm. "we’re not doing this here."

jimin stumbled after her, her heart racing as y/n led her through the house and out into the backyard. the cool night air hit her face, sobering her up just enough to realize where they were. the backyard was quiet, the noise of the party muffled by the walls of the house. the only light came from the moon, casting a soft glow over the grass.

"what are we doing out here?" jimin asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"we’re talking," y/n said, her tone firm but gentle. "without an audience."

jimin stared at her, her heart pounding in her chest. "so talk."

y/n took a deep breath, her hands still holding jimin’s. "i missed you too, you idiot," she said, her voice soft but sincere. "but you have to understand—i needed space. i needed to figure things out on my own."

"and did you?" jimin asked, her voice trembling. "figure things out?"

y/n hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "i did. and i realized that no matter how much space i take, i always come back to you."

jimin’s heart skipped a beat. "what are you saying?"

"i’m saying that i love you, jimin," y/n said, her voice firm but gentle. "and i’m not going anywhere."

jimin stared at her, her heart swelling with hope. "does this mean...?"

"it means we’re going to figure it out," y/n said, her voice firm but gentle. "together."

and then she kissed her.

it was soft and sweet, a kiss filled with all the words they hadn’t been able to say. jimin’s hands found their way to y/n’s waist, pulling her closer as she kissed her back. it was everything she had been missing, everything she had been fighting for.

when they finally pulled apart, jimin’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes wide with shock. "what was that for?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"to shut you up," y/n said, her lips curling into a small smile. "and because i missed you too, you idiot."

jimin smiled, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks. "i like the sound of that."

as the noise of the party faded into the background, jimin realized that sometimes, love wasn’t about holding on too tight—it was about knowing when to let go, and trusting that the person you loved would find their way back to you.

[novacorpsrecruit]

“She’s Cheating On You”

Gen | WC 1,234 | tw: perceived romantic Stobin (fake dating), misunderstanding

Eddie wasn’t sure why he was happy.

He should be upset for Steve. Mad. Angry.

He shouldn’t be buzzing with anticipation, waiting for the perfect moment to spill the beans.

It’s just that since Steve and Robin started dating, he couldn’t stand being around them. He knew they were close, but they promised they weren’t like that. They weren’t supposed to be like that. Except a few weeks ago, they surprised the party at a movie night, hands intertwined as they announced they were going steady.

And Eddie should’ve been happy for Steve.

Except that broke his heart.

He wasn’t sure why. Steve was out of his league, batting for the other team. There was no way he would go for someone like Eddie. So Eddie tried to push him towards Nancy. Nancy was the type of girl Steve was supposed to like. Because if he likes someone like Robin —

That meant he could’ve liked someone like Eddie.

If only he was a girl, right?

So maybe Eddie distanced himself from the couple. Not wanting to see them so sugary-sweet and couple-like. Eddie felt sick to his stomach thinking of them kissing. He avoided family video unless he saw Keith’s car parked outside. He tried to make conversations brief, afraid that his jealousy and heartbreak would show.

But he still couldn’t say no to Steve.

Steve had cornered him after Hellfire, all but demanding a movie night of their own. Steve even said they could watch Evil Dead like Eddie’s been begging for months. It should feel like a victory, but Eddie’s stomach felt like stone. He remembered asking, “is Robin coming?”

“Nah,” Steve shrugged. “Girls night. Figured it could be just us.”

Eddie nodded. There was promise of pizza and beer as long as Eddie picked up the tape.

So maybe Eddie went out to Indy the night before. Hoping he could find someone to ease the pain before he spent the following day with Steve. But that’s where he saw her.

Robin and this girl — a short redhead — dancing in the back of the club. Robin tilting her chin up ever so gently to capture her lips in a kiss.

And Eddie felt the world slow to a stop.

Robin was cheating on Steve.

And Eddie couldn’t have felt happier.

Which also made him feel like a huge asshole.

His best friend, a full romantic, was cheated on by his soul mate. Eddie should be upset. He should go and break the girls up. Tell Robin that she should be thinking of Steve, and not in this gay bar. That she’s going to break his heart.

But Eddie will be there to pick up the pieces.

Eddie left, no longer interested in finding someone. He needed to find a way to tell Steve.

He ran through the scenarios, trying to imagine how Steve would react to the news. Would he break down and cry? Would he get angry and yell? Would he look at Eddie, tears in his eyes and admit his love for him?

How would Eddie try to comfort him? Tell him that Robin’s no good for him? That he deserved better? That Eddie could be better for him?

How would Eddie even break the news? Would he start all soft, taking Steve’s hands in his like he’s telling him that his grandma passed in her sleep? Would he tell him that he’s heard from a friend or that he saw with his own eyes? Would he just rip the bandaid off?

No. Steve deserved gentle. He couldn’t just blurt it out —

“Okay, what gives?” Steve said, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “You’ve been antsy all night.”

“She’s cheating on you,” Eddie blurted out. ���Robin. She’s — uh — cheating on you.”

Steve sunk back into the couch, a furrow in his brow. “What?”

“She’s a lesbian,” Eddie said. “I saw her last night at this gay bar in Indy with this girl and I — uh — she kissed her.”

Steve’s face softened into something sad. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“What —“ Steve started, his brow wrinkled as he tried to process his heartbreak. “What were you doing there? At the bar?”

“Oh — uh —“ Eddie frowned, as he tried to process Steve’s question. He thought Steve knew he was gay. Did he assume that Steve would be okay with that? “I — uh — I’m gay.”

“Yeah,” Steve said, pulling a knee up and towards his chest. “I — uh — know that. But you were there?”

Eddie nodded. “And saw her there.”

“Did you — did you stay long?” Steve asked.

“No, I left after I saw her,” Eddie said. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you.”

“You didn’t talk to anyone?”

Eddie wished he could read the expression on Steve’s face. Wish he had whatever weird telepath connection him and Robin has — had. He wished he could peer into his brain and figure out his thinking. “No.”

Steve nodded silently, lips pressed together.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie repeated. “About Robin.”

“What?” Steve asked, like he forgot about how they got to the gay bar in the first place.

“I’m sorry that Robin’s cheating on you,” Eddie said. “That’s a shitty thing to do.”

Steve shrugged, picking up the remote and pressing play. “I told her she could.”

Eddie felt his brain break. “What?”

“I told her that she could,” Steve repeated plainly. Eddie reached for the remote and paused the movie.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m her beard,” Steve said. “Well, I guess we’re both each others’ beards.”

“You have to be queer to have a beard,” Eddie said slowly.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

Eddie leaned back into the couch and processed this information. Steve and Robin are beards. Steve is single. Steve is queer. Steve is queer. “You’re single?” Steve nodded. “You’re into guys?”

“Specifically one guy in particular —“ Eddie felt his heart drop. “—but he keeps trying to bring up my fake girlfriend while we’re on a date.”

“On a date?” Eddie nearly shouted. Steve let out a laugh. “Oh my god —“

It made sense. The way Steve looked nervous when he talked to him about the movie night. The way Steve’s body was pressed against his, his arm thrown lazily over his shoulder. The way Steve looked disappointed when Eddie said he went to the gay bar last night.

“Oh my god,” Eddie repeated. “I went to the bar to get over you. I thought you weren’t into me.”

“Totally into you,” Steve grinned. “Even after you kept trying to push me towards Nance.”

“Oh,” Eddie said sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

“Between you and the kids, always pushing one of us to date,” Steve said. “We kinda got sick of it. So we decided to fake date. Just — uh — didn’t think you’d push us away after that.”

“I was jealous,” Eddie admitted.

“That’s what Robin thought,” Steve said, shifting in his spot. “She said that maybe I needed to be more forward.”

“More forward,” Eddie repeated softly

“Yeah,” Steve said, a smirk on his face. “Maybe like this —“ he leaned into Eddie’s space, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. When he pulled back, Eddie felt like Steve took his oxygen with him.

“I’m happy Robin’s cheating on you,” Eddie admitted. Steve grinned.

“Me too.”

[aakeysmash]

You haven’t seen farmer!sukuna for three whole days. He had to go to the city to get you the grade-A flour you begged him to fetch to be able to make your bread, but a storm made him stay away from you for way longer than what you both can stand. When he fiinally comes back home, you stop swirling your beef stew, turn off the stove, and run to him. Your summer dress flows around you, and he grins, catching you effortlessly when you jump into his open arms.

“Hey,” you smile. It blinds him for a second.

“Hey, wifey,” he responds, matching smile on his face, already brushing his nose with yours.

His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs when your lips descend on his, and he walks you both to the couch while you manage to throw his straw hat on the ground. You grip his hair, savoring the taste of the hum coming out of his throat when you grip it a little bit harder. It tastes of familiarity, of comfort, and a little bit of desperation.

“Did you miss me?” You ask him smugly, mumbling the words on his mouth, a string of saliva still connecting you two. You lick his upper lip with the tip of your tongue, teasing him, circling his head with your arms when he plops down on the worn-out cushions. He squints at you, but his lips still twitch to kiss you again, unable to resist the pull you have on him. His teeth graze your cheek, biting you softly, while his palms drag up and down your exposed legs.

His tanned, calloused fingertips nip your skin, but it’s a pleasurable feeling. A feeling you’re used to. He smirks, groping one buttcheek hard, and forces you closer to his chest. The action makes you keen and sigh, your smile falling from your face to leave space for a trapped moan inside your mouth.

“Dunno, I feel like ya missed me more,” he murmurs between both rough and delicate kisses along your neck. Despite looking like that, all broad and menacing, the soft press of his lips on your skin is the most him thing he’s ever showed you.

“I didn’t miss you-“ you half laugh, stopping briefly to caress his face. His smirk deepens and he kisses your ring finger right on your golden wedding band. “-didn’t miss you at all.”

His large palm moves under your frilly dress, coming down rather harshly on the glob of your ass, before soothing the sting with two little pats. You yelp, your head falling on his shoulder, trying to get even closer to his body heat. You feel his index finger moving along your panties, and he twirls the cotton around the digit before pulling it tight against the spot he knows you want him to pay attention to.

You hear him chuckle while you complain, already dizzy with wanting him all over you. Even though you're on top, you're still being engulfed by him.

“I know she missed me,” he rasps, forcing you to keep your head in the crook of his neck by putting one sprawled hand on your hair.

“Give it to her, then,” you whine, rolling your already damp underwear on the crotch of his jeans. His zip catches delightfully on your clit, and you softly moan in his neck.

“Sure thang, ma. Whatev’r my pretty wife wants,” he snickers, quickly discarding his pants. He barely gets his boxers under his ass, swiping the head of his cock on the front of the panties he still has in a twist around his finger. You try lifting your head to give him a mean glare, but he forces you back against him. Then, he rips the cotton band, getting your whole weight in his free hand without straining at all, lifting you up.

“Let me kiss your other lips too, mh?” He grunts, his lips brushing the side of your face.

“Just put it in, Sukuna,” you talk back, frowning, getting your mouth wide open ready to bite him. Your teeth come down on his skin at the same time his dick starts sinking into you, the feeling of your bodies finally connecting making you clamp down on his throat.

“Eaaasy, tiger,” he chuckles mid whimper, patting your hair. “Relax that jaw, vampire.”

“You can leave a handprint on my ass and I can’t suck your blood?” You pant, the perspiration from your breaths making the air you inhale so much hotter, his hand still deeply rooted on your scalp.

“I’d let you mark my fuckin’ heart, babe,” he mumbles near your ear, his hand tightening on your hip. He lowers you down slowly, letting your wetness drip all over his length. Usually he’d be a little rougher, and he loves how you love it, but since he also loves how tight and perfect you always feel, the fact he hasn’t fucked you in what feels like forever heightens his soft side.

“Shit, relax down here too,” he grumbles, his hand finally leaving your hair just to come rub little circles on your clit. You drop down lower by the second, and when he’s buried to the hilt, he slams his lips on yours. He grips both your hips, surely leaving marks, gyrating them at the same rhythm his tongue tangles with yours.

“Fuck yes. Missed this. Missed you,” he grits out, fucked out expression on his face, cheeks tinted pink and eyes rolled back.

For the next thirty minutes he swallows your moans just like you devour his curses, a cacophony of what’s simply just you. Three days might be little for someone else, but not for you two, so used to spending each waking moment together that you were on the verge of calling him to come back to you at least 34 times today.

You ride him slow but desperate nonetheless, and he lets you jump up and down his cock to your heart’s desire. He likes how you manage to have him wrapped around your pinky, even though he's double your size, and how your thighs are trembling since your pride won't let you ask him for help: it makes it all more fun when he drags you to the bathroom to clean you up. Maybe he'll sneak a little eating out session on the sink if he redeems you're still too sane.

Your dress is still on, just like his chest is still clad in his worn out t-shirt.

“Missed you so much. Wan’ you to cum inside,” you moan, baby hairs all over the place, and right now he thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful. He smiles lazily, his hand coming up to your face to lower your head just enough to drag out a sentence between your lips.

“Want me to put a bun in the oven?”

[imsofreakingtired]

I'm in love with your page like I genuinely check it multiple times a day to see if you've posted even though I have notifs on 😭😭😭

Please can we get Sevika!XReader! When sevika and reader have just started dating and sev finds out reader smokes and begs her to stop even though it's hypocritical because she chain smokes herself 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

ASDFGHJKL THANK YOUUU that literally made my day. hope you enjoyy

run away (from me)

content warning(s): smoking, some blood, mentions of addiction

"i cherish and want you, but there's still no answer i know you get it, so don't play hypocrite me collecting dust in the corner of the room it's not pretty, i don't want you to stay"

~~~

Your hands are shaking. All of you is shaking, actually. Breathing hard, you fold yourself tighter into the ledge you found between the stacked wooden crates in the alleyway of some dilapidated buildings. You’re not sure if people live there, but you’re certain they wouldn’t give two shits about some cigarette smoke wafting around. 

Cigarette between your lips, you flick angrily at the lighter. Either your hands are weak or this lighter you lifted from the pocket of that enforcer is a bum one, because all you’re seeing are little sparks. 

Finally, a flame. You light the cigarette. 

It had been a close chase. You’d managed to lead the goons onto your own turf, then lose them with several false turns. Not before they’d nicked you with their fuckass little pocket knives, though. 

You don’t want to think about that right now. They’re only flesh wounds, and you need to relax yourself before you look at them. 

Then a large shadow falls over you. 

“There you are.” 

You look up. Right at the strong features and vivid gray eyes that have held you in a chokehold since you first saw them, and took your breath away even now. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Where the hell have you been?”

“Ha,” you say, flicking the ash onto the wooden box next to you. “Careful there, Vika, or it might sound like you actually care about me.” 

Sevika snorts. “Keep dreaming.”

The two of you have been seeing each other for little less than a month. 

Then Sevika sees the cigarette in your fingers. She looks quickly around to see if anyone is approaching, then crouches down beside you, frowning. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m having a self-care day. Little meditation session.” 

She sees the blood staining your shirt, the telltale marks of a scuffle on your face. “Fuck. Are you hurt?” 

“Barely. Nicks and bumps.” 

She takes the cigarette out of your hand. 

“Hey!” 

“You shouldn’t smoke this shit,” she said, stubbing it out. “What are you on about? Let me look at you.” 

“That was my last cigarette,” you said, scowling. “You better make it up.” 

“You shouldn’t smoke at all. Not in this cesspool of fissure smoke. What’re you trying to do—kill yourself?”

“Oh. Deepest apologies. I didn’t realize you’re the only person in Zaun who is allowed to slowly destroy your lungs.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “You try being my age, growing up in the mines and breathing that shit night and day. Your lungs aren’t like that.”

“Sevika,” you say, letting the hint of a whine into your voice. You know it’s a gamble with her—whether she’s in the mood to humor you or not depends on the day, the weather, hell, the color of your shirt. But you really need that smoke. “Vika, I’ve had a shitty day. Gimme back the cigarette.” 

She looks at it, the burnt end, the dry marks of your lipstick. She puts it in her pocket. 

“Vika, I swear to God—” 

“How long have you been smoking?” She asks quietly. 

You shrug. “As long as every other undercity brat.”

“Come on, get up. You’re hurt.” 

“I can’t. I’m too tired. You just took away my only hope of revival.” 

She mutters something under her breath, you’re pretty sure you heard the word “insufferable.” Then she takes off her cloak, her mechanical arm gleaming in the late afternoon sun, and throws it around your shoulders. 

“Your ‘only hope of revival’?” She repeats to you, scooping you up in her arms. “What am I, nothing?” 

You wince slightly as she lifts you up, but it’s comforting to feel the solidity of her warm body, the muscles of her human arm flexing against your back. You wrap your arms around her neck. “You’re not too bad,” you admit. 

She gives a short chuckle. “You’ll see. Just see if I can’t make you feel ten times better than a lousy smoke.” 

“That’s a two-way deal,” you tell her, leaning your head on her shoulder. “You need to let me return the favor.” 

“Done.” 

~~~

thank you @prettyinpink69 for the request :)