#hip street messages

[itswilliamleonard]

hell yeah Sheriff Calli's comin to town who's ready for Cop Comix!!!!

[timmurleyart]

Grandmaster Melle Mel. 🎵🟪🟡🎤

[sugugasm]

☆ CLICK TO PLAY ! ➜ 450 DEGREES

YOUR LEVEL IS STARTING SOON . . .

level quest : pov ur neighbor is a firefighter, and you love a man in uniform . . just as much as he loves your chocolate chip cookies.

☆ — a message from the developer : hiii i missed uguys sm, i’m so glad to be back for realsies this time :p don’t mind any mistakes or errors & before you read — nsfw content up ahead so pretty please read these warnings !!! strangers to lovers !!! age gap alert ➜ toji is 35 and reader is 25, mentions of sexual themes such as oral, vaginal penetration, pet names such as : sweetheart, angel, baby ofc, princess, honey, etc. usage of sexual terms and usage of terms describing female anatomy, uses she/her pronouns. firefighter! toji x baker! blk fem! reader 333 — word count : 8.0K or 9.0K, i lost track LOL

“fuck . .”

toji cut the engine of his ford pickup and sat for a moment, eyes closed, letting the silence wash over him. every muscle ached with exhaustion, the double shift of 48 hours catching up to him. he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in an actual bed instead of snatching a few hours on the lumpy firehouse couch in between calls.

sighing, he grabs his duffel from the passenger seat and levers himself out of the truck. as he turns toward the house, a flash of color across the street quickly catches his attention. his new neighbor — you, out puttering in your postage stamp front yard, wearing a tank top the same vivid coral as the geraniums you were watering and cut-off jean shorts that barely qualified as clothing to any old, bitter bastard.

he’d seen you before. many times. whether it was while leaving for an early session at the gym as you walked your puppy, or his moving day . . where he could barely order around gojo and geto, struggling to tell them where they should place certain boxes due to hearing your alluring giggle coming from the house next door, your curls flowing in the breeze as you gossiped over iced lemonade with mrs. johnson on her porch.

his thoughts are interrupted when you glance toward him, face lighting up with a friendly smile as you spotted him. “hi there! nice to finally see you in the flesh instead of just passin’ headlights at odd hours of the night.”

“sorry about that.” toji hoped his answering smile passed for normal and not serial-killer exhausted. “i’m toji, toji fushiguro. i jus’ moved in last month.”

“well m’ yn. welcome to the neighborhood!” you propped a hand on one cocked hip, thoughtlessly drawing his eye to the thickness of your legs that almost looked golden in the sun lighting.

jesus.

realizing he was staring, he jerks his gaze back to your face, feeling his neck heat up at the idea of you catching on. “thanks. s’ a nice area. quiet.”

“i like to think we're a pretty welcomin’ bunch. in fact . . .” you bite your lip, looking almost shy for a second. “i was plannin’ to do some baking later, as a housewarming gift for all the newbies. any requests? cookies, muffins, scones? i make a mean cinnamon roll too.”

an unexpected warmth kindled in toji’s chest at the kindness of the offer. even as his stomach rumbled in anticipation, he couldn't remember the last time someone had gone out of their way to do something nice for him. sadly, baked goods didn't really tend to hold up well on 24-hour shifts.

“that’s really sweet of you, thanks. i love a good chocolate chip cookie, but i’ll happily be your guinea pig for anything.”

“sounds like a plan.” you graced him with another one of those classic, southern hospitality miles. “i’ll surprise you. they’ll be over before you know it!”

“looking forward to it. i better let you get back to . .” he waves a hand vaguely at the riot of flowers on your lawn, colors and smells galore.

“oh, right. see you soon then. welcome home!” with a small wave, you bend to retrieve the watering can, giving him an unobstructed view of her perky ass in those obscenely small shorts.

strangling a groan, toji spun on his heel and double-timed it into the house before you caught him ogling you like a creep. so much for a quiet neighborhood, he thought ruefully as the door shut behind him. you were gonna’ be one hell of a distraction, though some traitorous part of him looked forward to the temptation. it’d been way too long since he'd been around a pretty girl. maybe that's what all this edginess was - his libido waking up and taking notice after a long dry spell.

well, he'd just have to keep any wayward urges in check. no matter how mouthwatering you looked in tiny cutoffs, you were practically a decade younger and a neighbor, at that. off limits. he’d accept your baked goods, enjoy a little innocent flirting, but anything more was out of the question.

resolved, he headed for the shower, already counting the minutes until he could taste whatever delights you were whipping up for him.

the next morning, toji was on his second cup of coffee, basking in the rare luxury of an empty day ahead with no responsibilities, when the doorbell chimed. he opened it to find you, juggling a huge wicker basket with an equally enormous smile. the sweet scent of sugar, vanilla and chocolate wafted out to tease his nostrils so blissfully, just like how your sheer presence teased . . . other parts of him.

“g’mornin’,” you chirped. “i come bearing gifts from the sugar fairy.”

“so i smell . .” his mouth waters as he relieves you of the basket and ushers you inside, noting how your flowered sundress set off your peaches-and-cream personality. no shorts today, but the dress was nearly as enticing as it grasped on to your curves. he wondered if your skin would taste as good as you smelled, then mentally slapped himself.

down boy.

“i hope you don't mind me just droppin’ by like this. i wanted to catch you before you got busy.” your smile faltered slightly as you glanced around the spartan space with its generic bachelor furniture and decided lack of personal touches. “if s’ not a good time . .”

toji set the basket on the coffee table and turned to her, hands raised in mock surrender. “you came to my house bearin’ gifts of dessert. trust me, it's never gonna’ be a bad time. i may actually make some sort of sugar delivery beacon to summon you in the future.”

your laugh sounded a little relieved. “aww cute, sounds like my kind of bat signal. i’ll have to get you a spotlight shaped like a cupcake.”

“make it a cookie and you've got yourself a deal.” he grinned at you. “can i interest you in some coffee to go with whatever magic you've got in there? smells incredible.”

“coffee would be great, thank you.”

he led the way into the kitchen, noting how you took in details like the depressing lack of clutter and decoration. the only personal items were a handful of framed photos stuck to the fridge - him and his siblings as kids, his parents' wedding portrait, shots of fishing trips with his buddies — one with snow-white hair and the other with black. it struck him how sterile the space was, more like a way station than a home.

you didn't comment on it, instead you just leaned a hip on the counter and watched him pour a darkened substance into a ‘worlds worst morning person’ mug. there’s a comforting silence as he catches a whiff of your light perfume over the powerful espresso aroma - something floral and citrusy. it suited you.

“i wasn't sure what kind of treats you'd like, so i made a sampler of my greatest hits,” you say brightly. at his gesture, you unpack the basket, setting containers and various utensils on the table. “okay so . . we’ve got triple chocolate chip cookies, blueberry muffins, apple cinnamon scones, and my famous brown butter cinnamon rolls.”

“good lord,” toji shook his head in awe. “you made all this yesterday? after we spoke? do you even sleep?”

you laugh and accept the steaming mug he offered. “who needs sleep when there's sugar? besides, baking relaxes me. i love seeing people enjoy my creations.”

as if on cue, his stomach rumbles loudly, and you bit your lip against a smile. “sounds like someone's ready for a taste test. don’t be shy . . dig in.”

toji didn't need to be told twice. he selected a cinnamon roll, still warm from the oven, and bit in with a moan that would've been beyond embarrassing if his mouth wasn't full of heaven. “shit . . think i jus’ found my religion.”

you giggled that giggle that’d been stuck in his head since the day he heard it. “the cinnamon rolls tend to inspire a cult-like devotion. you haven't even tried em’ with the cream cheese frosting yet.”

he halted with the pastry halfway to his mouth for another rapturous bite. “there’s frosting too?”

in answer, you pulled a container from the basket with a flourish. “i figured you could handle adding your own so it didn't get soggy.”

“you’re an angel.” he slathered a generous amount of fluffy white frosting on the roll, not even caring that he probably looked like an overexcited kid.

watching him take another blissful bite, you cradled your coffee mug in both hands. “soo . . what d’you do that keeps you gettin’ home at such odd hours? i promise m’ not stalking you, but it's a quiet street. hard not to notice the comings and goings.”

toji washed down the sticky-sweet mouthful with a swig of coffee. “i’m a firefighter. we work 24-hour shifts, so my schedule can be pretty unpredictable."

interest sparked in your eyes. “really? that’s so cool! i bet you have some amazing stories.”

“eh. a few,” he allowed. truthfully he tried not to dwell on some of the things he'd seen, the memories that still occasionally jolted him awake in a cold sweat during the night. “it’s rewarding work, but not exactly a picnic for the social life.”

you give him a sympathetic look over the rim of her mug. “i can imagine. is that why you moved? needed a fresh start?”

“somethin’ like that. the job costed me my marriage a couple years back. got tired of walkin’ around the old place alone, so i thought a change of scenery might do me good.”

change of scenery in deed. toji even went as far as to relocate to a different state after his divorce with his wife. even the landscaping around the city had become too much of a heartache. what was once a happy, sensual marriage quickly turned sour the moment toji began working more. the position as chief hadn’t sounded that horrible in his head, but if he knew he’d come home one night - the clock reading exactly 3:17 am, to an unrecognizable man fast asleep in his bed, naked next to his wife, that that position could’ve waited. could’ve been passed on.

there’s a silent second between you two, your face still, “i-im so sorry,” you say softly, and toji feels relief when he sees that your eyes were warm with understanding, free of the pity he'd come to dread whenever his divorce came up in any other conversation he’d have with someone who didn’t know him.

he shrugged. “it is what it is. we married too young, grew apart. my hours didn't help. no hard feelings though.” he mustered up a wry smile. “what about you? you’re a little young to be living the retired grandma life, baking up a storm in the 'burbs.”

you grin, allowing him to lighten the mood. “hey, hey, hey, this grandma can party with the best of em’! fyi, i stayed up past 10 last saturday watching bad girls club.”

toji clutches his chest in feigned shock. “damn, so scandalous! what was the special occasion?”

“all have you know . . i was trying to perfect a new macaron recipe. passionfruit with dark chocolate ganache. they’re a fickle mistress though - one minute too long in the oven and they're as dry as bones.”

“sounds like bakin’ is more than jus’ a hobby for you,” he observed.

you toy with your mug. “it’s my whole life, really. i’m in my second year of culinary school, specializing in pastry arts. when i graduate, i’m hoping to open my own bakery. somewhere people feel welcome and cared for. a safe space, i suppose.” he stares, and you duck your head with an embarrassed laugh. “sorry for the tangent . . it probably sounds so silly.”

“not at all.” toji found himself impressed by the passion and dedication evident in your voice. you had a dream and you were going after it. he remembered that feeling. before the reality of adulthood had started chipping away at his own youthful idealism.

he wanted to say something to encourage you, to protect that light shining in your eyes for as long as possible. “for what it's worth, i think you're gonna’ be amazing,” he told you seriously, holding your gaze. “if this morning’s haul is any indication, you'll have lines around the block.”

you shield your smiling face sweetly. “that’s kind of you to say. i appreciate the vote of confidence. speaking of . .” you hesitate, then forge ahead. “m’ actually working on developing an original signature recipe for my final. multiple components, flavors, textures. the works.”

“sounds ambitious,” he said, eyebrows raised. “what’d you have in mind?”

your eyes sparkle with enthusiasm at the question, the thought of genuine curiosity making your heart flutter. “deconstructed black forest cake. dark chocolate cake, kirsch-soaked cherries, vanilla bean whipped cream. i wanna’ play with it, update it. maybe turn it into a trifle or a parfait of some sort.”

toji was no culinary expert. hell - he didn’t even know what half of those things were, but even he could tell you were on to something special. “that’s incredible, yn. lemme’ guess - you need a guinea pig?”

you bite your lip nervously, smile turning impish. “i didn't wanna’ impose, but since you offered the other day . . how would you like to be my official taste-tester? i can't really pay you, but you'll get free rein to sample every variation.”

“where do i sign up?” he was only half joking. even if your creations turned out to be awful, which he highly doubted, any excuse to spend more time with you sounded like a win.

you laugh. “i think i can waive the usual application process on account of the fact that you're doing me a huge favor. plus, it means you won't be able to avoid me constantly showing up at your door to force-feed you desserts.”

“oh no. however will i cope.” he feigned a put-upon sigh.

you shot him a look of amused reproof as she packed up the empty containers. “try to contain your disappointment. i promise to space out surprise sugar bombings. wouldn’t wanna’ make you sick of me or my baking."

“i don’t really think i ever could . . to be honest,” he declared firmly. on impulse, he reaches out to still your fluttering hands with his own. your skin was so soft and warm, sending a tingle zipping up his arm. your breath pauses at the contact and your eyes flew to his, startled.

“i mean it,” he said, voice gone low and intent as he tries to infuse sincerity into every word. “i can't imagine ever getting tired of you. or your company.”

for a suspended moment you just stare at each other in silence. then you swallow, sounding a little breathless as you replied, “likewise. m’ really glad you moved in, toji.”

“me too,” he said roughly. and though he knew he shouldn't, that he was venturing into dangerous territory, he allowed himself to stroke the delicate bones of your wrist with his thumb. just once, to feel your shiver lightly in response. then he released you and stepped back, moving to hold the door open for you in unspoken signal.

“i’ll get out of your hair now,” you murmured as you gathered the empty basket with hands that trembled just slightly. “but i’ll see you soon? for taste testing purposes, of course.”

“absolutely,” he confirmed. “anytime. y’know where to find me.”

with a final nod and smile, you slipped out the door. he watched you go, admiring the sway of your hips, the bounce of your hair, already counting the minutes until he'd see you again.

you were gonna’ end him, so so sweetly too., he realized with a trace of fatalism.

but what a way to go, huh? death by cinnamon rolls.

the day of the first official tasting arrived, and toji found himself unaccountably nervous as he approached your door. he felt a like an awkward kid picking up his prom date, palms sweaty and heart knocking around his ribs. which was ridiculous. this wasn't a date. just two neighbors getting together to sample some sweets. totally casual.

never mind that he'd changed his shirt three times, vacillating between wanting to look nice for you and not wanting to seem like he was trying too hard. he’d finally settled on a plain black tee and his least disreputable pair of jeans, adding a hint of cologne as an afterthought.

now, standing on your stoop, he wished he'd brought something. flowers maybe — lillie’s like the ones in your garden, or perhaps wine. did people bring wine to taste testing sessions? probably not. you’d most likely think he was a presumptuous idiot.

shaking his head at his own weird bout of nerves, he raised his hand to knock. before his knuckles could connect, the door swung open to reveal you, looking adorably pretty and flustered. you were wearing a frilly pink apron over a gauzy white sundress scattered with tiny red cherries. your hair was bundled on top of your head in a haphazard knot, loose curls escaping to dance around your swelled cheeks. a dusting of cocoa powder streaked one of them.

“toji - oh, you’re right on time! m’ runnin’ a bit behind, so sorry. come on in.” you stepped back to let him enter and he caught a blend of tantalizing scents - rich chocolate, sweet cherries, warm vanilla, and underneath, the subtle floral musk that was purely you. it made his head swim and his stomach clench with a hunger that had absolutely nothing to do with the promise of dessert.

he followed you into the kitchen, blinking a bit as he took in the transformation. when he'd helped you carry in groceries a few days ago, the room had been tidy and quaint, with cheerful yellow walls and kitschy retro appliances. now every surface was strewn with baking detritus - bowls, whisks, spatulas, piping bags. the air was hazy with a fine mist of flour and powdered sugar, swirling in the slanting sunlight.

incongruously delicate paper doilies serving as placemats were scattered with miniature cakes, puddles of sauce, and billows of snowy cream. it looked like a fancy bakery had exploded all over the place.

“as you can see, i’ve been experimenting with a few different iterations of the concept,” you said with a small smile, waving a hand at the sugary chaos. “couldn’t settle on just one. i thought i’d get your input n’ then we could narrow it down together.”

“i’m at your service,” he told you gallantly, skating his gaze over the counter. “i’ll warn you though, my palate isn't exactly refined. you might end up with the bland 'it all tastes good' as feedback.”

you giggled. “i’ll take it. okay, let's start basic.” you gestured for him to take a seat at the flour-dusted table and set a plate in front of him. on it perched a generous slice of cake, glossy with ganache, accompanied by a scarlet swoosh of what he assumed was the cherry compote. a dollop of whipped cream, flecked with black speckles, completing the overall masterpiece look.

toji quickly picked up the fork and took a bite, closing his eyes to focus on the flavors. the cake was intensely chocolate, the ganache dark and silky. tart-sweet cherries burst on his tongue, balanced by the subtle fragrance of the vanilla-specked cream.

“damn,” he mumbled around the mouthful. “fuckin’ fantastic, yn.”

you beam, looking relieved. “yeah? the cake recipe took a while to get right. i wanted something more . . . complex than a standard chocolate cake, so i used black cocoa powder to really amp up the flavor. n’ i even added a little coffee to enhance the chocolate.”

“s’ a winner,” he assured you. “i dunno’ how you could improve on it, honestly.”

“oh i have a few ideas,” your smile turned mysterious. “you haven't seen anything yet.”

over the next hour, you walked him through several variations. chocolate cake layered with cherry compote and kirsch-soaked chocolate cake crumbs, topped with cocoa whipped cream. dark chocolate and cherry bread pudding drizzled with cherry coulis. chocolate panna cotta with drunken cherries and cherry gelée . . . and toji sampled them all, humming with pleasure while you watched him anxiously. your initial nerves seemed to melt away as you lost yourself in describing the ins and outs of each dish - the technical challenges, the way certain flavors complemented or contrasted, ideas for garnishes and plating.

he found himself captivated by your intensity, the way your whole being lit up when you talked about your craft. it was more than just a job or a hobby for you . . . it was a calling. he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt that kind of soul-deep passion for anything. couldn’t take his eyes off the way your slender hands sketched shapes in the air, punctuating your words. delicate, clever hands that created so much beauty.

“earth to toji,” teased, waving one of those mesmerizing hands in front of his face. “did i lose you? too much of a sugar crash?”

toji blinked and refocused on your amused expression, realizing he'd been caught woolgathering like an idiot. “sorry, just slipped into a brief dessert coma. what were you saying?”

“i was asking what you think of this last one. it’s the more . . . wildcard of the bunch.” you pushed a small glass toward him. it looked like a miniature trifle, with layers of cake and cream, a vivid cherry layer in the middle, and a fan of shaved chocolate on top.

he dug in and had to suppress an absolutely obscene moan. the combination was incredible - velvety smooth, creamy, rich, and fruity, with a kick from what had to be a generous glug of kirsch. sweet but not cloying, a sophisticated twist on a classic.

“i think we have a winner,” he managed, not even caring that his voice came out husky. “if you're going for adding a 'wow' factor, this is it.”

you stand on your tippy-toes, looking hopeful. “you think? i couldn't decide if it was too out there. verrines aren't exactly traditional black forrest cake material.”

“doesn’t matter. it’s a showstopper. interesting to look at, fun to eat, n’ the flavor is phenomenal.” he scraped the glass clean with his spoon, not wanting to waste a drop.

your smile could've lit up the city block. “thank you, toji. you don't know how much it means to me, you bein’ here. lettin’ me talk your ear off and stuff you with treats. it really . . helps a lot."

“believe me, it's my pleasure,” he said, returning her smile with one of his own. “i haven't had this much fun in . . i can't even remember how long. i like seein’ you in your element.”

you both just grin goofily at each other for a moment, the air feeling thicker. then you hopped up and began clearing the table, stacking dishes and bustling around the small space.

“y’know i feel bad, you feedin’ me all these goodies without me contributing anything,” toji said, rising to help. “at least lemme’ take you out for a meal that isn't 90% butter and sugar. you must be sick of cookin’, day in and day out.”

you slanted him a glance, tucking a stray curl behind one ear. “m’ not, actually. it never feels like a chore. but i . . wouldn't say no to dinner out. if you're sure you don't mind.”

mind? he’d been trying to come up with an excuse to spend more time with you, and here you were gift wrapping one for him. “i’d love to,” he said firmly. “s’ the least i can do. and i’d like to hear more about this final project of yours. when do you present it?”

“next month,” a shadow crossed your expressive face, there and gone in a blink. “m’ tryin’ not to think too much about it yet. one step at a time, y’know?”

he recognized that look. the flickering uncertainty, the hint of stage fright. he’d worn it himself, back before his first real fire. wanting so badly to prove himself, to show what he was made of, terrified of choking.

impulsively, he reached for your hand, halting her flitting movements. your fingers curled reflexively around his, warm and strong. “look at me . . . you got this. you’re a star, you're gonna’ impress the hell outta’ your professors.”

you swallowed hard, eyes searching his. looking for the belief you couldn't quite muster on your own. “i hope so. i want it so much, toji. this . . all of it. it’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

“then don't let fear hold you back,” he told you gently. “don’t doubt yourself. you have a gift, mama. i know m’ a dumb scrub who can barely tell a macaron from a macaroon, but even i can see that you were born for this shit.”

your hand squeezed his, almost painfully tight. from both the nickname rolling off his tongue so elegantly and the encouragement that you sometimes failed to receive from your closest peers. “thank you, seriously,” you whispered. “for believin’ in me, i guess. it means a lot to me . . .”

he squeezes back, thumb sweeping over your knuckles. he had a sudden, wild urge to haul your into his arms. to soothe the worry from your brow with his lips, to show you with his hands and body and breath how special you were. how much he'd come to care for you in such a short time.

but he couldn't. however strong the pull, however much he wanted to cross that line, he knew it would be a mistake. you weren’t for him, this shining woman with stardust in her eyes. and he was in no position to offer you anything real. he needed to remember that.

so he contented himself with a soft “anytime,” and released your hand, stepping back to a safer distance. “now, about that dinner. friday work for you?”

you blinked, then hitched your smile back into place. it wobbled a bit at the edges, but he pretended not to notice. “friday’s great. s’ a . . . plan.”

even through the awkwardness, the unspoken words clogging the air between you, a little thrill went through him. it’s a date, you’d almost said. and god help him, he wished it was — that’s why you settled on making plans to try the new, cozy italian restaurant that had opened downtown, the one you’d mentioned wanting to visit after a neighborhood watch meeting one night. it was intimate . . . romantic. toji walked home with a lightness in his step, an unfamiliar flutter in his gut. he was in trouble, he knew he was. you were trouble in ways he hadn't encountered before. you made him feel too much.

more than he ever had.

but he was in too deep to back out now. all he could do was try to keep a clear head, keep things casual and platonic. be your friend and supporter, nothing more. his life, his job . . there was no room for complications.

even if he was beginning to suspect it was already far too late.

the days leading up to friday passed in a blur of anticipation and nerves, though toji did his best to ignore both. ‘it isn’t a date. she’s not into you. this isnt a fuckin’ date . . .’ he reminded himself sternly, no matter how much his idiot heart wanted to pretend otherwise. just dinner between neighbors. a thank you for your tireless taste testing efforts. nothing to get all hot n’ bothered about.

so then why the fuck had he changed outfits half a dozen times before settling on the nicest button-down he owned and a new pair of dark wash jeans? why had he agonized over whether to bring flowers or wine or both . . again? this was so embarrassing. he was so embarrassing. he’d think being married once would've meant he had at least a little bit of game . . but nope - he had nothing.

taking a deep breath, he knocked on your door at precisely 7pm. when it swung open to reveal you, his lungs almost stopped in their tracks. you looked no less than stunning in a ruffled dress, in the pretty shade of baby-pink, your hair tumbling over your bare shoulders - half up, half down and bumped at the ends. a slim gold chain nestled in the hollow of your throat, shamefully drawing his eyes down to the swells of your titties.

“fuck . .” he said inanely, tongue suddenly clumsy in his mouth. “m’ so sorry. forgive me, i mean, you look . . absolutely amazing.”

a shy smile curved your lips, brightening your whole face up. “thanks . . so do you, toji.” your eyes skimmed over him appreciatively and he fought the urge to preen.

“o-oh, these are for you.” he thrusts the slightly wilted grocery store bouquet at you, wincing inwardly at his own awkwardness.

but you just smile, cradling the limp blooms like they were something so precious. “how sweet of you! i love daisies. lemme’ jus’ put these in some water and we can go.” you disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him to marvel at how such a simple gesture could delight you so thoroughly. damn, you were so lovely. inside and out.

the drive to the restaurant was filled with easy conversation interspersed with comfortable silences. toji let you be in control of the radio, secretly charmed by your off-key humming to the cheesy pop songs in rotation on your playlist. he could imagine countless nights like this, aimless drives with no destination in mind, just content to be in your company with no one to bother.

and dinner was a laughter-filled affair, trading bites of pasta and garlicky bread, arguing playfully over the merits of various desserts. you entertained him with customer service horror stories from your barista days, confessing your penchant for ‘accidentally’ giving rude patrons decaf.

in turn, toji found himself sharing more than he usually did - funny anecdotes about his buddies at the firehouse, his worries about his little sister starting college in the fall, even a bit about his dad. the words came without effort, drawn out by your natural warmth and empathy.

he couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed anyone's company so effortlessly.

when the check came, he wouldn't let you even reach for it. you rolled your eyes but allowed him to pay, primly informing him you were getting the next one. his stomach flipped at the unthinking promise of a next time.

you then lingered over coffee and dessert - the restaurant's version didn't even hold a candle to your black forest verrines, but you were too polite to say so - neither wanting the evening to end. toji watched you lick chocolate from your spoon, entranced by the tiny pink flash of your tongue. wishing he could lean in and taste the sweetness of your mouth. a pleasant shiver chased over his skin, heat simmering low in his belly. he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you - this maddening mix of tender and carnal, the urge to both protect and possess.

“mmm,” you purred appreciatively, pulling the spoon from your mouth with an obscene pop. “whoever said that chocolate isn’t better than sex clearly hadn't tasted chocolate like this.”

toji swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing convulsively in his throat. “playin’ with fire are we?” he manages to rasp, fingers clenching around his mug.

you placed the spoon delicately on your empty plate, fingers lingering just long enough to draw his attention to their graceful dance. “who says i’m playin’, handsome?” you quip.

he was so fucked. so. totally. fucked.

afterwards, he walked you to your door, hands shoved deeply n’ awkwardly into his pockets to keep from doing something stupid like reaching for your hand. you then hovered on the stoop, the sultry summer night pressing in close.

“i had fun tonight,” you softly. in the light spilling from your living room window, your eyes were luminous. hopeful. “we should really do it again sometime.”

“we should,” he agreed, mouth dry. he couldn't look away from your face, tracing the delicate arch of your brows, the dark feathering of your lashes. you swayed closer, tipping your face up to his, and his heartbeat kicked into overdrive. god, you were killing him.

it took every ounce of willpower to step back, to force a chuckle past the ache in his chest. “well i should let you get your beauty sleep. early start tomorrow, right?” your smile faltered, a brief tightening around your eyes hinting at disappointment. he almost caved right then, almost said to hell with his reservations and dragged you into his arms the way he'd been dying to do all night.

but he couldn't. not when he had nothing more to offer you than heartache.

“right,” you murmured. “beauty sleep. so important for . . . baking.” you fumbled for your keys, not quite meeting his gaze. “i’ll see you round’ then.” he could only watch you retreat into the house, torn between relief at the bullet dodged and an overwhelming sense of loss.

wearily, he turned to go back to his own quiet home. he’d done the right thing. the smart thing. so why did it feel so damnably hollow?

avoidance was the order of the day after that near-miss. though it pained him, toji forced himself to keep some distance, to not make up flimsy excuses to show up on your doorstep at all hours of the night. no more dessert development sessions, no matter how much he craved the sight of you gushing and twirling over your latest creations. no more cute, little dinners with furtive hand holding under the table.

he threw himself into work with even more zeal than usual, pulling extra shifts and helping out with the neverending station chores. if the guys ribbed him about his sudden devotion to alphabetizing the equipment room or polishing the engine to a blinding shine, he shrugged it off. it was loads better than going home to an empty house haunted by what-ifs.

he ached to see you though. sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of you catering to your garden or heading off to the market, and his fingers would itch with the urge to go to you, to close the seemingly unbridgeable gap between you both with long strides and strong arms. more than once he'd picked up his phone to call you, thumb hesitating over your smiling face in his contacts until he cursed and tossed the phone aside.

it was for the best, he told himself firmly. you had your whole life ahead of you - school and internships, building your dream from the ground up. he’d only get in the way, bog you down with his everlasting issues and cynicism. he wouldn't, couldn't be the dead weight holding you back.

even if letting you go felt like tearing himself in half.

he should've known you wouldn't let him slink away so easily. that for all your sweetness, you were just as stubborn as he was. you’d never been one to give up on the things - or people - you wanted.

which bring us to now . . you ambushing him on his way home from a grueling 48-hour shift, looking unfairly pretty and indignant as you marched across the street to plant yourself in front of his truck. he barely bit back a groan, exhaustion and longing a potent cocktail in his bloodstream.

“hey, stranger,” you said archly, fine brows drawn together in a scowl. “long time no annoy.”

he cut the engine and climbed out, suddenly self-conscious about his unwashed, smoke-saturated state. “hi, yn. how’s it going?”

“ah, y’know. jus’ workin’ myself to the bone, trying to perfect this dessert that's only the culmination of my entire academic career thus far. while also attempting to figure out how i mysteriously pissed off my friend to the point of complete radio silence.” your arms crossed over your chest, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes, “so yeah . . the usual.”

guilt lodged under his breastbone, sharp and corroding. he’d never meant to upset you, to make you think any of this was at all your fault. “shit, yn. i’m sorry . . i didn’t mean to ignore you, i’ve just been so -”

“busy . .” you finished for him, mouth flattening. “mhm, i’ve noticed. so busy you ignored all my calls n’ texts - missed our dinner the other night too. you’ve been practically living at the station lately.”

he grimaced, one hand scrubbing over his stubbled jaw. he’d never been any good with words, with making excuses. especially when faced with eyes that seemed to see right through his every defense, “you’re right. i’ve been avoiding you. but not because of anything you did. i jus’ . . needed some space to clear my head.”

your arms tightened, gaze dropping to the oil-stained pavement. “i thought we were having fun,” you said quietly. “gettin’ to know each other. but if i misread things, if i made you uncomfortable in any way i really am so sorr . . .”

“no.” he interrupted fiercely, taking an involuntary step closer. close enough to smell the light, citrusy scent of you, to see the faint mascara smudges of sleeplessness under your eyes. “you didn't misread anything, yn. these past weeks, spendin’ time with you . . . s’ been amazing. the most fun i’ve had in years, if i’m being honest.”

confusion clouded your expression. “then why?”

“because m’ a goddamn mess,” he bit out, the truth clawing its way up his throat. “because you’re brilliant, and you’re goin’ places . . n’ i wouldn’t be able to give you my time in the way that i know you more than deserve. i wanna smell muffins in the mornin’ . . not the smell of musty men and water hoses.”

he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose before sitting his stuff on the hood of his car, “i jus’,” he started, “i’ve done the dating thing, alright? the marriage thing too, y’know that. i jus’ . . i cant afford to lose another person in my life that i care about — not when i’ve come this far to prevent it n’ when they’re as sweet and pretty, and as kind as you.” you stand in silence, letting him vent, “i’m not perfect. m’ terrible at cooking, i sing in the shower, n’ on top of all that i fuckin’ snore like a grizzly bear. ya’ still want me now?”

you took a step forward, hand coming up to fist in the front of his t-shirt. he inhaled sharply at the sudden press of your soft curves against his hard planes, the way your gaze dropped to his mouth.

“yeah, you grumpy old fuck . . i still want you,” you whispered fiercely. “mess, snores and all.”

he softened as you pressed a kiss onto his cheek, gentle and warm with truce, “i have my own damn baggage. y’think thats stoppin’ me from goin’ after what i want? no. so jus’ stop bein’ such an asshole n’ kiss me alread - mmph!” — that was it. that was the straw that’d broken the camel’s back. with a muttered curse, his control had finally snapped. he hauled you flush against him, one arm banding around your waist as the other hand sank into your hair, cradling the back of your head. you made a soft, needy sound and surged up on tiptoe, sealing your mouth to his.

the first touch of your lips was electric, a livewire straight to his core. they were exactly as soft and sweet as he'd imagined, moving over his with an urgency that matched his own. he angled his head to slant his mouth more firmly over your, licking at the seam of your lips as you licked on the scar on his.

he swept his tongue into your mouth, stroking over yours, swallowing the low moan that vibrated in her throat. you tasted like peppermint and the vaguest hint of sugar, an addictive flavor he already knew he'd never get enough of. your arms twined around his neck, blunt nails scraping deliciously at his nape as you pressed impossibly closer.

dimly, he registered the whoops and catcalls of a passing group of neighbors, but he couldn't bring himself to care. let em’ gawk. the whole damn neighborhood could come out to watch and he still wouldn't be able to tear himself away from your sweetness.

he was a man possessed.

the kiss deepened, turning hot and hungry. toji backed you up against his front door, hands roaming greedily over your curves as he pressed the hard length of his body into your soft warmth. you made yet another sound into his mouth, lifting one leg to wrap around his hip, opening yourself up to him.

he tore his lips from yours only to trail open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, tasting the salt on your skin from the sweat of the hot summer sun. “fuck . . i want you,” he growled against your pulse point. “wanna’ touch you, taste you, feel you. if you’ll let me . . of course.”

“wow, such a gentlemen,” you gasped, hands scrabbling at his shoulders. “please fuckin’ do, toji.” patience fraying, he fumbled for his keys and somehow managed to get the door open without releasing you. you stumbled over the threshold, shedding clothes haphazardly between searing kisses - your flimsy blouse fluttering to the floor, followed by smoke stained his t-shirt.

toji walked you backwards down the hall to his bedroom, kicking the door shut before tossing you onto the bed. he followed you down, covering your entire frame with his own, reveling in the feel of all your bare skin finally against him. you were a vision in the spill of afternoon light, curls fanned across his pillow, pink lace bra and panties a tantalizing contrast to your brown skin.

he took a moment just to admire you, committing every detail to memory. the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted on shallow breaths. heavy-lidded eyes hazy with want and something deeper, more tender.

“been dreamin’ about you, princess. shit - you’re so gorgeous.” he rasped, nipping at your earlobe with each word, “so pretty, so beautiful, so smart.”

you shivered, fingernails raking over his shoulders, “nngh - c’mon stoppit, toji . .” growling low in his throat, he captured your lips in a nasty kiss, all teeth and tongue. large hands cupping your full titties, calloused thumbs rubbing your nipples into stiff peaks. and you arched into his touch with a moan, shameless in your pleasure.

“someone’s eager, hm?”

breaking the kiss, he began to work his way down your body, mapping every dip and curve with lips and teeth and tongue. he paid thorough attention to your titties, laving at the dark-brown nipples until you were panting and squirming beneath him.

“b-baby, please . .” you whimpered, fingers sinking into his hair to urge him lower.

he only chuckled darkly against your flesh. “patience, sweetheart. m’ not goin’ anywhere. let me love you.”

true to his word, he set about exploring you - kissing a meandering path down your ribs and belly, dipping his tongue into your navel just to hear you gasp. strong hands gripped your thighs, pushing them further and further apart so he could settle more comfortably between them.

hooking his fingers in your lacy panties, he dragged the scrap of fabric down your legs. “fuck yeah, look at you. so wet for me already. look at this pussy . .”

you mewled as he licked a broad stripe up your slit, circling your puffy clit with the tip of his tongue. he sealed his lips around the sensitive nub and sucked, fingers delving into your soaked entrance, curling to find that special spot inside you.

“o-ooh my god — yes!” your back bowed off the bed, a vibration spreading down your chest as he worked you higher. he paid close attention to your most tender skin, alternating between broad, flat licks and quick, targeted flicks. crooking his fingers just so, he rubbed and rubbed until he found — “ah f-fuck!” your g-spot, feeling your thighs start to tremble around his head.

“thas’ it, bunny - cum on my tongue. i wanna’ see it all, mama. c’mon, i know you can do it,” the filthy words combined with the relentless stimulation quite literally pushed you over the edge . . and you came with a sharp cry, gushing your juices all over his lips and chin. he groaned at the taste of you, lapping up every last drop, addicted already.

while you were still quivering and coming down from your high, toji fumbled blindly for the nightstand drawer. he managed to retrieve a condom without taking his eyes off of you. ripping open the packet with his teeth, he sat back on his knees to quickly sheath himself.

you took the opportunity to admire his body, running appreciative hands over his muscular chest and abdomen. he was all tanned skin and chiseled muscle, a sparse trail of dark hair pointing the way to his impressive erection. it jutted from a thatch of coarse curls, thick and flushed nearly purple, the bulbous head glistening with excitement.

wrapping your fingers around his rigid length, you stroked him base to tip, twisting your wrist on the upstroke so that the condom slips right back off. toji grunted, hips bucking into your touch as you rubbed your thumb over the leaking slit. you pause, your mouth watering as you begin to lower your head down. you press the side of your face against his thigh, peering up at him with batting lashes and a poked lip. your ass is arched - high in the air and wiggling as if you just wanted him to smack it.

that’s when you began slapping his heavy dick against your cheek, repeatedly, “so big, baby,” you whisper, now positioning your face to where his cock could sit right on top of it - “can i put it in m’mouth? please . .?”

“yn you don’t have to -”

“i want to.”

toji looked down at you once more, the look of want in your eyes . . . how could he resist?

he gently grabs the side of your neck, firm but not firm enough to cause pain, his other hand curling around the base of his cock as he whispered, “open wide. tongue out,” biting his lip as he braces himself for the sensation of your mouth wrapped around him.

that’s when your wet tongue dances out tentatively, tracing the ridge of his head before retreating back to safety inside your mouth. it was clear that you were just as lust filled as him. toji could feel himself pulsing with need as you took him in deeper and deeper, a low groan escaping him, “shit, doll - got it all to fit . . good girl.” your hands gripped his hips tightly, nails digging into his skin as you bobbed your head up and down. toji swore he could fall in love with the simple, yet beautifully disgusting sound of your throat — gawk, gulp, gawk! ugh, they were such disgusting noises - some gagging here, some moaning there, but he couldn’t have asked for anything better. you were slobbing, spitting, and choking on his dick and the only thing getting in your way from taking him whole was the fact that his size was still fairly new to you.

“sss’ ooh fuck - b-baby . . yn -” he hisses, both your eyes and his rolling to the back of your heads as you continue to gulp him down, spit trickling down to your tits as they jiggled to the rhythm of your mouth. each and every glide against your tongue was starting to overpower him, and before he knew it, if you didn’t stop he was bout’ to —

“cum . . m’gonna cum! m’fuckin’ cumming - asshhit . .” he groaned, eyes tightly closing as you continued to deepthroat him the best you could, “don’t stop, keep suck - y-yes . .” it was a hassle - a big one, but the taste of him warm cum painting your throat felt like a sweet reward.

almost sweeter than your baked goods.

whining and still aching to suck on him some more, toji pulls you off in fear of shaking more than he already was — and the sight of you with his cum dripping out of your mouth only did the complete opposite.

“uh, well then . . how’d i do?” you say shyly, as if you hadn’t just completely slutted out your mouth for your next door neighbor.

a surprised bark of laughter escaped him even as his cock jerked at you eagerly. “don’t exile me, but that mouth . . shit, might be better than your cookies. not gonna’ lie, sweetheart . .” toji growled, and you pout as he’s prowling back over you. you then watch him slowly, his fingers unexpectedly plunging back into your pussy as he scoops some of your wetness onto the pad of them before pulling them back out. he fists the base and tip of himself, smothering his cock in your juices as lubricant as he teases your entrance with a few pats n’ nudges. fuckin’ tease. he kept on until you were angrily swatting his chest to put the damn thing in already.

who could blame your lust? after all . . you’d been dreaming about it for weeks now.

yet again, he snags another rubber, strokes a little, and once he’s in, “oh s-shit that pussy's tight, baby . .” he’s in. you moaned in tandem, dick snuggling into your tight walls inch by excruciating inch. you were warm and wet and perfect around him, gripping him like a silken vise. it was magical, just like you - but the look on your face . . oh that look, almost seemed like you wanted to be broken. with your arms above your head, your titties swaying against your chest and your whines now hoarse n' pleading — he kinda wanted to break you too.

toji started with slow, deep strokes, mindful of your tightness and his considerable girth. he didn't want to hurt you, wanted to savor every clench and flutter around his aching cock. wanted this to last, to burn this moment into his brain forever.

“f-feel so fuckin' good wrapped around me,” he gritted out, hips rolling in a lazy figure eight that had you keening. “y’so wet, honey . . dick feel that good?”

“toji,” you whimpered brokenly, fingernails scoring down his flexing back. “more, please . . need it harder . .”

and how could he deny you anything when you begged so sweetly? bracing his weight on his forearms, he obliged, snapping his hips forward with more force. the headboard started to thump against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your writhing bodies.

“like that, baby? hm?” he panted against your throat, sweat beading at his temples as he drove into you again and again, his cock damn near slipping out of you from the slippery speed. “this what you need? me splittin' this pretty pussy open?”

“yes d-daddy . . ” you wailed, back arching like a drawn bow. your cunt was fluttering around him, a telltale sign of your impending orgasm. “aah - don't stop, don’t stop, m'so close!”

“shh, i got you,” he promised, shifting the angle of his hips to grind against your clit with every thrust. “gonna’ make this pussy sing for me, gonna’ wring the cum outta’ you 'til you're shakin' on me. you want that?” his filthy words seemed to be your undoing because suddenly you were clenching down on him like a vice, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as you thrashed beneath him. your release gushed hot and slick around his pistoning length, drenching his groin and thighs with sweetness.

“f-fuck yeah,” toji choked out, his own rhythm faltering as your rippling walls threatened to milk him dry. “good girl, sweetheart, cream on this dick, lemme’ feel you.” he managed a handful more erratic thrusts before his own orgasm crashed into him like a freight train. he buried himself to the hilt and stilled, a hoarse shout muffled into your sweat damped shoulder as he spilled himself into the condom. his cock jerked and twitched with every pulse, vision nearly whiting out with the force of it.

for long moments, you both just shook and gasped, clinging to each other as aftershocks rolled through your bodies. toji's heart was thundering so hard he was sure you could feel it through his sweat-slick chest. he'd never come so hard in his life, never felt so utterly shattered and remade.

you made a soft, satisfied sound as he carefully withdrew from your heat, rolling to the side to dispose of the condom with a quick knot. then he was gathering you close again, palm smoothing up your spine as you burrowed into him with a sigh.

“shit,” you eventually mumbled into the heated skin of his throat. “that was . . .”

“ . . fuckin' heavenly,” he finished roughly, a laugh rumbling in his chest as he felt your answering huff of amusement. “m’ sorry i uh . . came so fast. i don’t usually -”

“did you just apologize to me because my pussy is good?” you teased, dragging your nose along the edge of his stubbled jaw. he could feel the curve of your smile, the unabashed joy, and it settled something deep within him. soothed the ragged pieces he'd thought long broken.

“damn straight,” he agreed, arms tightening around you possessively. “i can die a happy man now.”

“well, you're not allowed to die on me now, toji. you're stuck with me. escape if you can.”

“mm, is that right,” he nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of you - all warm woman and satisfaction.

“mhmm. you're not getting rid of me easily. i still have so many desserts to force on you, so many early morning baking sessions to drag you into . .”

he laughed outright at that, at the sheer exuberance in your voice. “promises, promises.”

“oh i always keep my promises, mister. which reminds me . .” you pushed up on an elbow, eyes sparkling with mischief and something deeper. something that snatched the breath from his lungs. “i seem to remember you saying something about round two . .”

“did i? care to refresh my memory?” he growled, even as he was already rolling you beneath him again, mouth seeking yours. you then feel his palm colliding with your ass in a gentle spank. “what am i gonna’ do with you?”

“everything.” you breathed against his lips, a vow. “anything. i want you, toji. want everything with you.” and fuck, what could he say to that? what could he do but kiss you like a promise, a prayer, and proceed to show you just how much he wanted that too? wanted to give you everything, anything, all he had to offer?

he'd never been a man of many words. but this - loving you with hands and mouth and body, breaking you apart and putting you back together again and again until you were both sweat-soaked and shaking . . this he could do. this he would do for the rest of his life if you'd let him.

“you’ve got me.”

and from the joyous half-sob of his name as he sank back into your pussy, the way your body opened for him like a flower to the sun, he had a feeling you just might too.

there would be time for more words later - time for confessions and plans and mapping out a future he'd never even let himself dream of before. time to make good on promises whispered into heated skin, to build something real and lasting brick by brick. but for now, in the honeyed afternoon light with your legs wrapped around his waist and your heart in his hands . . let himself get lost. let himself drown in sensation and emotion, in this miraculous woman he didn't deserve but who'd chosen him anyway.

from lost to found, in the space of a heartbeat. and all because an angel in a garden had smiled at him across a sunny street and offered up a little piece of heaven. he'd never know what he'd done to deserve you, or this second chance. but he'd spend the rest of his days earning this gift, cherishing it.

cherishing you.

that was a promise. and like his beautiful girl . . toji fushiguro always kept his promises.

©️ SATORUBI - please do not copy, translate, or modify my work without my approval ! thank you for playing . . the challenge has only just begun.

[cordeliawhohung]

Touch Me 'Till I Vomit (pet!au) [1]

ghoap x reader pet!au where simon keeps johnny as a pet, but can't keep up with his high sex drive and antics. in order to satiate him, simon decides to go looking for another pet to keep the silly pup entertained. sort of an introductory work bound to become a series of one shots like my mafia!au

cw: simon is a freak, non-con photography, a little dark content, nsfw, slight bdsm dynamics, owner/pet dynamics

Simon wasn’t a photographer, not a good one anyway, but he wasn’t to blame. His large hands were better fit for shredding meat than creating art, but he figured all art was good when the muses were beautiful. 

He had been on the hunt for nearly three hours by that point, wandering throughout the city where the population was thickest. Armed with nothing but his phone, Simon captured photos of various specimens that meandered throughout the streets as they went about their lives. There were roughly twenty pictures he had saved in his gallery of unsuspecting women he figured would be Johnny’s type. Pretty blondes in flowery dresses, alluring doe eyes looking out at the streets; he stole photos of any soft and sweet thing that he figured Johnny would have fun sinking his teeth into. 

A black mask and dark clothes wasn’t the most unsuspecting thing for him to wear on such an outing, yet it was to his advantage at the same time. Several women had caught the slight glint of the camera lens on his phone as he stole eternal glimpses of them. Many of them had even opened their mouths to protest his intrusion, until they looked at him, anyway. Not many people had the bravery or fortitude needed to stand up to a creature as wild and brutish as him. Their mouths shut with such promptness he nearly chuckled at how bashful they were. 

Hunting got more difficult as the sky grew darker. Fresh meat hid behind locked doors that Simon could have easily torn down if he had so desired, but that wasn’t the time. As the lights started to illuminate the street, he dived down into the depths underneath London where tunnels spanned for miles, spider-webbing just below the skin of the city. The stench underground grew more acrid the further he pushed and Simon couldn’t help but huff at it. This was why he enjoyed living out of town, off in some secluded home nestled in the cold embrace of trees and lavish fields. 

Made it harder for his pet to wander off, too. 

The sharp clicking of heels caught his attention as he waited just beyond the yellow line on the platform. Dark eyes flickered to the newest prey that approached, and Simon found himself drinking in the sight of her. Proper clothes covered her body with a simple blouse and a pencil skirt. Dark tights covered the expanse of her legs with its sheer fabric where it was beautifully topped off by a classic pair of heels. The sway of her hips was dramatized by the steps she traversed, her pace slow and careful lest she roll an ankle walking in those heels. 

She was dressed professionally, and if Simon had to guess it was for an interview. By the look on her face, it didn’t go very well. Distracted eyes stared down at the phone in her hand as her lips pressed into a frown. Anxious fingers tapped away as she typed out a message to someone — perhaps a lover? Someone would be crazy not to snatch up a specimen such as that — as she stepped down onto the platform. 

Before she could get too close, Simon quickly dug his phone out before stealing a photo of her. He had gotten so used to the motions he didn’t even have to think about it; not that it was difficult anyway. With her attention still focused elsewhere, he found he was able to snap a few more before she finally put her phone into her bag and began to pay mind to where she walked. She continued further into the platform, well past Simon, and vanished into the crowd as if she had never been there at all. 

Cute. 

It didn’t take long for the tube to take Simon to his stop, and it was even shorter before he seated himself in his car to head back home. The drive itself was the longest part of everything. Annoying traffic, bad drivers; he didn’t feel like he could untense his body until he approached the familiar sight of home. The old and dilapidated building wasn’t much more than an heirloom passed down in the Riley family, but it had quickly become his sanctuary. Seclusion meant he was safe. Seclusion meant he could love in peace.

Warm lights poured through the sheer curtains that covered the windows and were only disturbed by a figure pacing around just beyond them. Simon’s car died off with a sputter as he pocketed his keys before approaching the door. A thick deadbolt kept the house latched tight and secure, though he was confident Johnny knew better than to attempt to dash out by that point. Especially not that day when he had the prospect of such a good treat. 

Johnny was there to greet him at the door with a toothy grin, and the damn pup nearly knocked Simon over as he bounded up to him. His hands pawed at Simon’s chest as if he couldn’t get enough of him, and he didn’t calm down until the man grabbed hold of the collar around his throat. Blue eyes widened as he looked up at his owner, lips twitching with all the words he wanted to exclaim.

“Down,” Simon warned. 

“Did ya get the pictures? Like you said you would?” Johnny questioned, his body still unable to retain his buzzing excitement. 

Instead of answering him verbally, Simon gave a sharp tug on his collar before directing him further into the house. Ancient wood floorboards creaked underneath their weight as they entered the living room. It was devoid of all decor, unless cracks in the paint could be considered art. A rusted lamp was the sole source of light in the room, and the only thing even worth looking at was the glorious stone fireplace that sat against the far wall, but it was much too warm out to light. 

Simon pulled Johnny down onto the old sofa next to him, and the man instantly burrowed into his side, eagerly waiting to see the pretty pups. The phone screen illuminated both of their faces in sync as it blossomed to life, and Johnny almost salivated at just the prospect of what he would see. It didn’t take Simon long to pull up his gallery, and he scrolled to the first photos he had taken that day before angling it so that his excited pup could see it too. Twitching fingers reached out to swipe along the screen, and Simon watched as Johnny’s eyes dilated at every piece of meat he looked at. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted on the couch, and all it took was a simple glance to see how worked up the poor pup was. A hardened bulge strained against the zipper of his jeans, and a groan reverberated in his throat as he continued to swipe through the countless choices put in front of him. 

“Si, they’re all so beautiful. Can’t I have them all?” Johnny whined. 

“Only one,” Simon countered. 

“I’ll be good,” Johnny said with a pout. 

“Just one, Johnny,” Simon repeated, voice more firm. 

Sighing, he continued to swipe through Simon’s phone as his eyes glossed over beautiful legs and delicious hips. It had been so long since he had last seen a woman it was nearly impossible to hold himself back. His body craved them in a way he couldn’t put into words, and he felt like the only thing that would offer him solace would be to burst out of his skin. 

His restless buzzing suddenly ceased when he caught sight of the last group of photos in the gallery. A beautiful woman had him utterly transfixed as she appeared to have descended down a long set of concrete steps. There was something about the troubled look on her face that had his mouth watering. Like he knew he would be able to fix it. Like he could bully the worry out of her with his cock alone. 

“This one,” Johnny said, his decision definite as he held the phone up for Simon to see. “I want this one.” 

[rafeandonlyrafe]

morning cravings

words: 1.1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, mentions of past hookups and drinking, semi public sex

you pull out your phone and quickly type out a message to rafe.

im coming over. unlock the door for me.

you push your feet into your tennis shoes before he even texts back.

i was about to hop in the shower

i don't care. my coffee machine broke and im dying without my caffeine 

you grab your bag before heading out the door, crossing the street to rafes house, having lived next to him your entire life.

“hey.” you mumble as rafe opens the door for you. you don't even look around as you enter, knowing his house like the back of your hand.

“wheezie just bought some new syrups if you want to try them out.” rafe says before retreating out of the kitchen, knowing you'll be in a bad mood until you have a mug of hot coffee in your hand.

you don't put much care into your first cup, drinking it black and gulping half down before adding some syrups and milk.

you sip slower now, padding around the house and it's many rooms until you find rafe.

“thanks.” you tell him. “where is everyone?”

“probably asleep still.” rafe says. he knows you always get up early, and he's adjusted his schedule throughout the years to fit with yours.

“hm.” you hum out, taking another sip of the bitter coffee before setting it down on the side table. “do you think we have time to fuck?”

“i-” rafe sits up suddenly, straightening out his previously slumped position. “what?”

“remember that time we hooked up?” you question, moving with confidence to sit on rafes lap, placing your knees on the couch cushion on either side of his thighs.

“we were both blacked out though. i thought for the sake of our friendship we agreed to not-”

you cut rafe off by surging forward and pressing your lips against his. “i want you. now.”

rafe doesn't question it. if he did you'd probably admit that your vibrator frustratingly died on you last night and wouldn't charge, leading to your pent up attitude.

rafe kisses you harshly, one arm wrapping around your waist to pull you in flush to his body while his other hand comes to the back of your head, holding you close as his lips attack yours.

“fuck, we don't have much time though.” rafe says, breathing faster already as his muscular chest rises and falls.

“i want you right here.” you reach down and pet your palm over rafes crotch, feeling his length harden under the plaid pajama pants material. “we can fuck again later in your room, but i need you to make me cum right now.”

“okay.” rafe tries to stay listening to the stairs, waiting for a creak to tell him to stop, but the second your hand moves under the hem of his pants, all is forgotten.

you pull his cock out, wrapping your hand around his length as you stroke up and down, grinding yourself down against his thighs to get you even wetter than you already are.

“take your shorts off.” rafe says, hand coming to your ass and giving it a squeeze, a smile growing on his face when you get off his lap only to turn and have your bum face him as you pull down your shorts and underwear, bearing your pussy to rafe.

you expect him to let you turn around and ride him, use his body if he doesn't feel like helping, but suddenly your thighs are being spread by long slender fingers and rafes mouth is on your cunt.

you moan out probably too loudly and lean forward to place your hands on the coffee table as rafes tongue swipes through your folds, tasting all the juices and wetness that has accumulated.

“god.” you whine, pushing your hips back against rafes face. “don't stop.”

you feel his mouth drop slightly to reach your clit, his lips wrapping around your bud as he sucks. 

your fingers dig into the wooden table as you moan out again, trying to keep yourself from screaming as you grind back against his face.

rafe eats you out for as long as he will allow himself while in the living room. he stands suddenly, tongue licking at your wetness covering his lips.

before you can stand or turn, rafes cock is pressed against your entrance, his hands on your hips.

“fuck me rafe.” you tell him, looking over your shoulder. “fuck me hard.”

you don't have to tell rafe twice as he sinks into you, both letting out curses at the sudden intense pleasure.

rafe pauses for just a moment, somewhat to let you adjust but more so to allow himself a deep breath and refocus on not cumming too soon despite your cunt clutching his cock, seemingly sucking his length deeper inside of you.

“so fucking-” rafe gasps. “warm and wet.”

you open your mouth to respond with some quip when rafe begins to thrust, pounding into you with abandon, not treating you like you've been his best friend since kindergarten but like a whore he's having a one night stand with.

it makes you regret not giving in to the lust sooner as rafes hand reaches around your midsection and his fingers find your clit, strumming it with rhythm in time with his hips.

“we're doing this more often.” you tell rafe, who nods in agreement despite you facing away from him, he can't find his words at the moment.

“god, your cock is big.” you moan out. you remember the hookup somewhat despite telling rafe the next day you didn't, but a cock like his leaves an impression even in a completely blacked out drunk mind.

rafes fingers pinch at your clit, smiling as he feels your pussy grip his cock tighter every time.

the one hand on your hip is grabbing you so tightly you're sure to be bruises, but you just want rafe to cover you completely, marking you as his.

“im-im not gonna last much longer.” rafe says. 

“rub me faster.” you command, eyes squeezing shut as you focus on the high building inside of you, wanting to cum at the same time as rafe.

his cock swells inside of you, pushing even further against your walls as your orgasm suddenly breeches as you cum with a gasp and a cry of rafes name.

you let out a whine when rafe suddenly pulls out, his cum spurting across your bum as he jacks himself off.

“the fuck?” you ask, turning around. “i wanted you to cum inside of me!”

“i-i-” rafe stutters, his eyes widening.

“come on.” you groan, pulling your shorts back on and grabbing your sullied, wet underwear. “you can make it up to me in your room.”

you make sure to grab your coffee before heading up the stairs.

[bratzforchris]

Tumblr Girls, M. Sturniolo

Summary: Matt can't help but to visit his favorite fuck buddy on tour, who just can't help but to tease him with her Tumblr posts. Songfic loosely based off of "Tumblr Girls" by G-Eazy<3

Pairing: Matt x feminine and influencer!reader

Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v, marking, bondage, friends with benefits, fingering, oral (f), dom!Matt, choking, intoxicated sex (alcohol), dirty talk, belly bulge, no aftercare but fluffish (?) ending (i do not condone any of this irl!! it is *fiction*)

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: Get your holy water ready girlies...

Ever since you were a little girl, you had been enamored by the idea of being famous. Something about the life called to you, whether that be walking down the street and people knowing you, or simply realizing that you were having an impact on someone, somewhere’s life. Fortunately, you had grown up in the age of the Internet, allowing you to truly harness what you had wanted to do for so long. You loved having creative freedom, and you loved making a persona that was truly you. 

You had been making YouTube videos, doing a variety of Instagram influencing, and posting carefully crafted aesthetic photos to Tumblr ever since middle school. Whereas a lot of the girls had moved out of their Tumblr influencer phase, you never really had. You still loved the dark, “grunge” aesthetic of it to this, and had turned your account into a more mature, X-rated theme of what it once had been. You loved doing social media as your full time job for a variety of reasons, from the freedom it gave you to the opportunities. 

Perhaps your biggest “opportunity” was your fellow influencer and YouTuber, Matt. Your relationship with Matt was…complicated, to say the least. As much as you were a wholesome, loving duo on camera, you were filled with an almost primal need for each other off of it too. You and Matt had never discussed a true, established relationship, mostly because you were both so young and so busy, and the rough, hard fucking in itself was enough to satisfy the needs in both of your lives. 

Your careers had consumed both of you as of late, dragging Matt all over the country for the Versus tour, and leaving you back in LA with a variety of brand deals to film and photo shoots to arrange. There was one in particular that you were heavily looking forward to, mostly because you knew that it would drag Matt back to you, unable to help himself. In a fateful turn of events, you had been emailed about a Calvin Klein intimates shoot that would just so happen to drop on the day Matt was back in LA for a show. In an effort to bring back the Tumblr renaissance and the hold Calvin Klein had had during those days, you had insisted that the photos be posted to Tumblr before any other social media platform. 

Matt: i’m back in la tn 

You: oh i know ;)

Matt: ??? huh

You: no reason. just focus on winning tonight :)

You smiled to yourself as you closed your text messages out and migrated over to your photo gallery. Your manager had sent you the photos of the shoot to be posted this evening, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t planning on fucking with Matt’s head using them. You had missed your fuck buddy, after all. The late night phone sex wasn’t the same as him in your bed, mumbling in your ear about how well you were taking it. 

The photos from the shoot were of you in a gray Calvin Klein bralette with a matching thong. The photos had been toned with a sepia overlay, highlighting the curves of your breasts and hips. Your hair fell back against your shoulders gracefully as your doe eyes stared up at the camera. The shots were nothing short of sexy, making you imagine how Matt would react when he got the post notification. Maybe he would be sitting backstage, getting ready to go on and trying to hide his growing boner both from his brothers and the fans, which only made you smile more. 

You and Matt continued to text back and forth for a while, until you suddenly stopped responding. This was part of your game with each other; to make the yearning so painful that it just made the sex more passionate. Once you saw that it had hit the fifteen minute mark until Matt was supposed to appear on stage, you hit ‘post’ on the Tumblr draft of your photos that you had planned out earlier in the day. The caption, come over 💋, was directly aimed at Matt, but no one else needed to know that. Sure enough, less than one minute later, you received a text from the brunette that had your heart racing and your thighs clenching. 

Matt: what the fuck, y/n?

You smiled as you typed out your own message, imagining Matt biting his lip and trying to conceal the growing tent in his pants as he studied the photos.

You: what? 

Matt: you know what

You: no i don’t 

Matt: that fucking post 

You: it’s part of my job, matt. quit being ridiculous. have you not heard about tumblr girls making a comeback?

Matt: watch it. i’m coming over and fucking that pretty pussy good tonight. 

You knew what your and Matt’s usual routine was, so you grabbed another cup from the cabinet and the bottle of whiskey, migrating over to the gray couch in your living room. You didn’t bother waiting for the brunette to start drinking. Matt had a key to your apartment and would definitely make himself known when he arrived. You slowly sipped at the amber liquid, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks and in between your thighs as you thought about Matt and how much you had missed the feeling of his skin on yours. 

Sure enough, the door swung open with a loud bang a few minutes later. In came Matt, hair disheveled and still in his blue Matthew jersey. His growing erection was obvious as he flopped onto the couch, lips immediately crashing into your own. Matt’s hands were all over you as you devoured each other; in your hair, running across your hips, grabbing your ass. 

“Fuck, baby. I missed you.” he panted, leaning back against the couch as you passed him a drink. 

“I missed you, Matt,” You smiled softly, tucking one of his curls behind his ear. “How has tour been?”

Matt took a large swig of whiskey, before placing the cup on the coffee table. “Good. But not as good as you looked in those goddamn pictures.” he practically moaned. 

“I noticed you have my post notifications on,” You teased, despite blushing at his words. “Catching feelings, Matthew?”

Matt rubbed your bare thigh, scooting closer to you so that he could suckle on the sweet spot behind your ear. “Do you know how hard it was?” he asked, leaving a hickey. “To have to go out on stage with my brothers and act normal when all I could think about were your tits and how I want to pound that little cunt to pieces? Huh?” 

You whined as Matt continued to trail hickeys down your neck, mumbling things like “missed you so bad” and “gonna fuck you so hard” after each one. You two fell back against the soft cushions of the couch, Matt holding you down by the hips as his lips caressed your neck, the curve of your collarbone, and the dip of your breasts. You went to reach for Matt’s ringed fingers, only for him to smack your hand away. 

“No,” Matt said harshly, moving one hand from your hip to your throat. “Tell me how fuckin’ bad you want it first,” he growled, squeezing your throat just enough to make the air catch in your lungs. “Tell me you wanna get off on my fingers like a goddamn bitch in heat.”

You gasped for air as Matt continued to squeeze, your arousal thumping through your veins. “P…please,” You whispered, eyes wide with lust as he continued to choke you just enough to get you going, but not enough to actually hurt you. “Need your fingers.” You whined, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Good girl.” Matt hummed, alcohol hot on his breath as he moved his hands from your throat to practically rip your gray panties off. 

With your friends with benefits arrangement, there was no time for gentle caressing or sweet nothings. Matt began to finger you roughly, the cool metal of his rings brushing against your slick folds as he rubbed his thumb across your clit at a dizzying pace. He wasn’t stopping there, either. Matt immediately thrust his middle and ring finger inside of you, pulling you closer to him. It had only been a few minutes, and the ache to orgasm was already building in your lower stomach. 

“Matt,” You wailed, nails gripping his back. “Oh my god, Matt,” Tears began to roll down your face as the brunette continued to pleasure you. The combination of his fingers inside of you, the friction on your clit, and the added sensation of his rings were clouding everything in a lustful haze. “Need to cum.” You sobbed. 

“You’re fuckin’ crazy if you think you’re comin’ on my fingers instead of tongue.” he chuckled roughly. 

With that, Matt threw his head down and forced your thighs apart, burying his face in your pussy. He began to devour you like you were the last meal on earth and he was a starving man. His tongue ran across your slit and clit, before licking your hole. You had no choice but to let out little squeals and whimpers as pleasurable sensations attacked you from all angles. Matt ran the flat of his tongue across your clit and you lost it, sobbing as your hands found his hair. 

“Matt, please,” You begged. “‘M gonna cum.”

Your fuck buddy just nodded, still enjoying the taste of you on his tongue. You immediately took it as a sign to let go, releasing the tension that had been building in your stomach. You came all over Matt’s tongue, panting and breathing heavily as your body shook from the pure force of your orgasm. Matt pulled his head from between your thighs, licking his lips and fingers with a smirk, blue eyes hungrily grazing over your body that was still wrapped in the bra and flannel with your bare ass on display. 

“You taste so goddamn good, you know that?” he asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you panted. 

You smiled as Matt pressed a kiss to your pubic bone, but it was clear that the brunette wasn’t done yet. Matt slowly pulled the red and black material from your shoulders, smiling with more than just happiness. He had an intention and you could see it in the way he was toying with the fabric, eyes lighting up with lust. Matt didn’t speak again until he had removed your Calvin Klein bra, leaving you completely exposed on the couch as he stared down at you. 

“Hands.” he said. 

It was one word, but the command held an authoritative aire that had you thrusting your wrists to meet Matt’s own. Matt knew you better than practically anyone, which meant he knew all of your dirty little fantasies. Knowing you had a thing for bondage, the brunette quickly and expertly bound your wrists together in the flannel, giving it a tight tug to make sure it was secure. Your breath hitched at the pure filth of everything, but all you knew was that this alone was making your legs clench with need for another climax. 

Matt was straddling you on the couch, fully clothed, which just added to the dominance he had over you. You were completely naked and covered in blooming hickeys he had left earlier in the evening with your wrists bound together by a flannel. You truly looked like Matt’s little cumslut, but you couldn’t find the decency in you to care anymore. You just knew that you were at his mercy and that you needed him. Now.

The brunette could sense your urgency and decided to have a little ‘fun’ with you. Matt took his time removing his shirt, allowing you to bask in the glory of him shirtless, all tanned skin and tattoos, but completely unable to do anything about it other than whimper and let out breathy moans. He moved onto his jeans next, painstakingly undoing his belt and throwing his pants to the side. The boy left his boxers on for the time being, teasing you as he stroked his cock through the plaid fabric. 

“Wish that was you, huh? Strokin’ my dick and makin’ me feel good?” Matt chuckled, moaning when he hit a particularly sensitive spot. 

You whimpered and writhed against your bond. “Need you in me, Matt. Please.” You whined. 

Finally, Matt slid his boxers off and tossed them to the side, allowing his erection to finally spring free. His dick was practically touching his stomach, making your mouth run dry with a mixture of excitement and nerves. After so long apart and without truly fucking, you had forgotten just how big he was. Matt climbed on top of you once more, rocking his hips back and forth on your own without actually riding you. 

“Beg for it. Tell me how much you love my cock, baby girl.” Matt groaned at the friction of your skin against his own, becoming harder by the second. 

“I need you inside me. Need your dick, Matt.” You whimpered, the teasing growing straight to your nipples and cunt, making you almost ache with arousal. 

“That’s right. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Without another word, Matt slammed into you, making you take him to the hilt. You let out an involuntary scream at the feeling of suddenly being so full, your back arching against the couch cushions. The feeling of him inside you, bare and hard, was enough to push you to the brink of orgasm. Your second always came faster than your first, and right now was no exception. Matt was riding you at an ungodly pace, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust as he straddled you. 

“Oh my god, baby,” Matt moaned loudly. “I missed your wet little pussy. So tight, just for me.”

The filthiness of his speaking, combined with your bonds and the feeling of him fucking you was pushing you over the edge. You wanted to tangle your hands in Matt’s hair or run your nails down his back, but instead you were unable to do anything that wasn’t taking his fucking like a slut. Matt pressed down on the bulge in your stomach from being balls deep, a smirk on his face. 

“You feel that, baby? Feel you takin’ me like the cockslut you are?” he chuckled. 

You whined as tears rolled down your face, bucking his hips up to meet his own. “Matt, I…I–need to, please.” You wailed, unable to form coherent sentences in your intoxicated and lustful state. 

“You gonna cum? Gonna make me feel appreciated?” Matt’s blue eyes scanned your face, enjoying the view that was you under him, tied up and sobbing. 

“Mhm!” You sobbed. 

“Then prove it.” he sneered, pressing on your stomach roughly again. 

You didn’t need to be told twice. You immediately let your climax take over, your cunt clenching against Matt’s cock. This caused the brunette to let out a string of curses as you came down from your high, your entire body shaking. He knew he was playing a risky game here, even though you were on the pill, but Matt just loved fucking you bare more than anything in the world. The brunette quickly pulled out, and before you knew it, your stomach was covered in thick and warm, white ropes of Matt’s cum. 

He laid down beside you on the couch, panting heavily as you both came down from your shared highs. Once your breathing had returned to semi normal, Matt kissed you roughly and undid your bonds, before rolling off the couch. Without another word, he pulled his clothes on, straightening his hair. Your fuck buddy kissed your forehead as he busied himself around your apartment, cleaning up the whiskey and cups and retrieving a warm washcloth to wipe down your body with. 

Once everything had been done, Matt tucked you in with a blanket, kissing your forehead. “I gotta go. We’re driving up to San Francisco tonight and I told Nick and Chris I would be back by two. I’ll see ya once the tour is over, yeah?”

You smiled sleepily as Matt slipped out your front door and into the night. Whereas you would’ve loved for the brunette to stay the night, you knew that you both had jobs to do and that right now, you were just fuck buddies and that was that. But as you drifted off to sleep, a warm feeling spread through your tummy that you and Matt wouldn’t stay “just friends” for long.

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxyz @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @bunny-cotton @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @not-phone-guy @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @faygo-frog @oobleoob @runasvengence

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

[g0niki]

pick up! ── y.jw

pairing: bf!jungwon x gf!reader

word count: 1.4k+

contents: no protection(i'm just a girl), finger sucking, reader's on the phone lol, pretty tame fic idk

a/n: not my best,, but also not my worst 🤷

jungwon was annoyed.

all day he had been on ten, waking up to his clothes sitting on the dryer; still soaking because one of the guys took his out to do their own, constantly being asked to do things, having to guide the members step-by-step during recording, people complaining to him, and schedules being thrown in his face.

the only thing getting him through the day was the thought of you, his girlfriend, waiting for him at your place, excited for your bi-weekly sleepover.

and as much as he loves you and your sweet personality, he was looking forward to your warm walls being wrapped around him and your thighs tightly pulling him closer, his pelvis flat against yours and his lips marking up all over your neck and collarbones. his fingers repeatedly tapped on his thigh, getting more and more fidgety with each passing moment as the street lights dimly showed through the tinted windows of the van. the frequent red lights urging him to just run out of the car and get to your place on foot, he would go insane if he wasn’t in your embrace within the next ten minutes.

【☆】★【☆】

jungwon chewed on his inner cheek, checking his phone to see if you had replied to his message saying he was almost there, immediately launching himself out of his seat when the van reached his destination. briefly saying goodbye to the rest of the guy as he grabbed his bag from the trunk, more focused on rushing to your door and letting himself in.

his bag was practically falling off his shoulder, his phone gripped in his left hand as he fumbled with his keys in the right, ready to run into you and crash his lips onto yours the moment he could. yet to his disappointment, he entered to you lying down on the couch, dimly lit, and chatting on the phone with your close friend, hardly even noticing he had just walked through the door. won loves your friend, and he understands that she is occupying your time at the moment, but the needy boyfriend in him is more than annoyed.

won hurridly tosses his bags to the side, coming up behind you and hovering over your figure. not so secretly pressing his groin against your backside and muttering an “i miss you”, you and your friend both briefly greeting him before continuing the conversation. jungwon pushes himself up, sitting on the edge of the couch and rolling his eyes in annoyance, ready to get up until he feels your hand tugging on the pocket of his sweats. he pinches his eyebrows together, slightly confused by your action until you’re tugging on his pocket once again.

“sit we were just about to hang up.” and well jungwon wasn’t going to deny himself his girlfriend.

only a few minutes became five… and then ten… and now twenty. his patience had been run thin as he was now big spooning your smaller frame, his hand gripping your waist and he couldn’t stop himself from slowly dragging you against the slight bulge in his pants. if you had seemed to notice you were doing a hell of a good job playing it off, not even stuttering or failing to miss whatever nonsense your friend couldn’t wait til the morning to talk about.

his lips finally came in contact with the nape of your neck, your breath finally slightly faltering, your free hand coming back to grip his hip for a second, pulling him just a bit closer to you. something about you noticing his actions and actively having to fight against your natural reactions turning him on way more than he was before. he felt cocky knowing that you were desperate enough to urge him to keep going despite your friend’s voice ringing through your phone’s speaker.

“hello, y/n??”

“yeah sorry, jungwon was asking me something.” his lips tugged up into a slick smile, he hadn’t uttered a single word since you told him to wait with you, finding it cute how you quickly covered up your delayed response. his hips slowly dragged against your ass and his right hand wrapped around you, trailing down and under the waistband of your pants to trace your cunt over the thin fabric of your underwear. he could feel his stress leaving his body, the increasing temperature of your body against him making his hair stand. his lips coming down and nipping on your neck, small red and purple bites blossoming on the skin.

“soaking through your panties right now, cute.” your thighs closed around his hand, grinding up against it and trying to gain more friction. he enjoyed seeing you like this, so needy for him yet pushing your limit to see how long you could stay on the phone, and well his goal was to regret making you stay on.

he truthfully doesn’t give a fuck about how much your friend hears, if anything jungwon was definitely enjoys this. his breath grew heavier as you scrambled to wrap up the conversation with your friend.

“haha, just call me back when he texts you! won’s been waiting for me love you bye.” the moment you pressed the red hang-up button the sweetest sound left your lips as you doubled over.

“aww, i thought we were having fun there, look at how you coated my fingers.” jungwon is using this as a chance to pull you closer and slide his fingers into your mouth, sliding them out slowly before taking them into his mouth. “you taste so good too.” his hand slipping under your shirt and grabbing your bare chest, firmly groping and pinches your sensitive nubs between his fingers.

“making so much noise for me, don’t ever hold back for me pretty.” jungwon roughly moved the two of you around, laying you flat on your back and hovering over you. pleased with how your legs immediately came up around him.

won tugged his sweats and underwear down his thighs, not bothering to properly take them off and putting even less effort into moving your clothes. only being able to hold back enough to tug your shorts and underwear to the side. the view was almost too much for him, your heat glistening and clenching around nothing and so ready for him to take you. despite usually doing his best to prep you properly and open you up for him won couldn’t bring himself to do it right now. biting his lower lip and groaning out loud, the thought of him having to push past your tight barrier and feel you struggle to adjust to him.

you seemed even more desperate than him, reaching down between the two of you to line won up with your cunt, brushing him against you a couple of times letting your essence coat his aching tip.

“put it in, please.”

the look in won’s eyes dimmed even more than you thought possible, roughly pushing himself around halfway through and then slowly sinking down for the remainder. his hips not bothering to still once he completely buried himself inside. immediately pulling back out to the tip and sensually grinding back into you, his hips pushing up and leaving the feeling of his member against your lower stomach.

“look at that baby,” his hand adds a force to the previously mentioned spot, feeling his dick tap against his hand through you. jungwon felt lost within you, watching as your lower back arched and his hands firmly gripped onto your waist, giving him leverage as he pistoned up into you.

he wanted to last longer but watching you struggle to take him and be so pliant for him was sending him into overdrive.

that was until your phone started ringing again, your friend’s contact picture lighting the screen and giving won an idea.

“why don’t you pick up, pretty? wasn’t it important before? let me get it for you.” and before you could protest his finger was dragging across the screen and hitting the speaker button, your friend’s voice squealing into the mic.

you bit down on the palm of your hand, hardly understanding what your friend was saying and providing little hums of agreeance.

“that… that sounds, great.” and oh god that was enough for jungwon’s dick to twitch inside you, feeling you clench around him as you forced yourself to respond.

his hips couldn’t stop themselves, firmly thrusting into you, hard enough you have your body jump up a bit and a high-pitched noise leaving the back of your throat. the both of you shuddering and releasing at once, his warm cum painting your walls and making you whine as you drop down from your high.

“oh my fucking gosh you could have called me back later!” the sound of your friend hitting her dial, and hanging up followed shortly after.

“well, you could call her back now...”

ᯓ★

@g0niki all rights reserved. do not translate or post my work anywhere without permission.

[dreamsontheirway]

It’s Not Your Fault | S.R.

Summary: You leave work late one night and someone follows you. Spencer x reader. Warnings: stalker, sexual assault/unwanted touch Word Count: 1.7k

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Spencer hated it when you had to work late nights. You were also an agent at the BAU, but sometimes you had to stay late to complete paperwork. He would stay late with you on occasion, but you hated inconveniencing him. Of course, he would never consider it an inconvenience.

He had offered to stay late with you again tonight, but you refused. He had such a long day and you knew he needed rest. Besides, you wouldn’t be too long.

It was only around 9 pm when you were finishing up your work. You heard the shrill beep of your phone, indicating a notification.

Hi darling. Almost finished?

You smiled at his message. You quickly sent a reply, letting him know that you would be leaving imminently. Almost immediately, he replied with a thumbs up and a heart.

You began compiling all your papers and files, now completed, and placed them in the filing cabinet at your desk. You stood up, grabbed your satchel bag, and admired the look of your tidy desk before turning on your heel and walking towards the door.

You normally parked in the parking garage attached to the building, but earlier today it had been massively full due to a conference. You were forced to park in the garage down the street a ways. This wasn’t so bad; the early fall weather was the perfect kind to walk in.

You began your short trek from your building to the parking garage, adjusting your satchel bag on your shoulder. It made you a bit nervous how dark it was already, but it wasn’t a far walk by any means.

You were about halfway there when you heard the light scraping of shoes on concrete behind you. You snuck a glance and saw a dark figure about fifty feet away. Most of the time men on the street were harmless, but you were an agent, and you had a bad feeling about this. There had been a few cases recently about women being assaulted in this area.

You assumed you were just being a bit paranoid. It had been a long day of looking at horrible case notes, after all. You decided to walk diagonally across the street as a short cut, and to see if the figure behind you did the same. Your stomach twisted tightly when the figure followed your path exactly. The figure had gotten closer, too, by at least ten feet.

Your hand instinctively went to your hip. Shit. You had left your gun locked up in the office. Shit.

You could hold your own in a fight, but you had absolutely no clue what you were up against here, and no back up.

You scrambled and fumbled your phone out of your pocket, and clicked the most recent contact on your call list. He picked up on the second ring.

“Y/N, are you on your way home y—“

“Spencer,” you whispered, with an intensity that resulted in a thick silence on the other end. You typically called him Spence. He knew something was wrong. “Someone’s following me. I left my gun in my desk.”

“Shit,” Spencer exclaimed, frantically. “Shit. Where are you?” You heard rustling on the other end.

You were a talented agent, and Spencer knew you wouldn’t call him unless you thought there was something seriously wrong. Unless you thought you couldn’t handle it. The thought sent a shiver down Spencer’s back.

“I’m almost to the parking garage, but there’s no one around. Spencer, I don’t know anything about who’s behind me. I don’t know what to do.”

The person behind you was getting closer, but you were talking quietly enough so they couldn’t hear you. You were growing increasingly frightened. You knew you were trained for this, but you were still a relatively new agent, especially in comparison to Spencer and the rest of the team. You’ve had your fair share of creepy men come on to you, but you had the advantage of analyzing them and knowing what you were dealing with. You didn’t have that advantage this time around. You could assume the figure behind you was a man by the heavy steps, but that’s about it.

“Keep walking, quickly. I’m on my way. I’m texting the others. Stay on the line with me, please.” His voice was desperate; you could tell he was just as terrified as you. You knew one of his biggest fears was losing you. Your mind briefly flickered to the realization he’d probably never let you work late without him again. The thought seemed comforting in the moment, and you found yourself wishing he was here.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up stiffly.

“Hey baby,” a deep, slimy voice spoke, a few feet behind you.

Damn it, you thought. You had been preoccupied talking to Spencer, you hadn’t realized how much closer he’d gotten.

You ignored the voice, and continued to walk quickly. You were unsure about how to handle the situation. You just wanted to get to your car. You could see it shining in the distance, the beams of light dancing on the windows from the lights in the parking garage. Luckily, you had parked on the lower level so it would be easy to access.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to ya,” the deep voice continued.

You could hear Spencer frantic on the phone, asking who the voice belonged to. You ignored him; you had to focus on making it to your car.

“Hey!” The voice bellowed, and a strong hand clutched your arm tightly, and you knew it would bruise.

You yanked it away, turning around. “Do not touch me.” You demanded, releasing a shaky breath.

Spencer was losing his mind. “Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m almost there. Hold on.”

You just breathed out in response. You slipped your phone into your back pocket, still on the call with Spencer.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing alone out here on a night like this?” The man questioned. He smirked, his teeth crooked and his eyes a piercing blue, so different from Spencer’s soft and comforting hazel.

“I’m going home,” you stated, continuing towards your car, but angled so you could continue to watch the man.

“Come on,” he smirked. “Aren’t you up for a little fun?”

He lunged then, grabbing the sides of your arms and pushing you against the concrete wall right next to the parking garage. You struggled against his grip. He had caught you off guard, and he was much stronger than you.

“Let me go,” you spoke deeply, as venomously as you could muster, although the slight crack at the end wasn’t very intimidating.

He just hummed in response, and let his hand travel down your arm and rest against your hip. You squirmed against him, but his grip was far too tight. You felt bile rising up your esophagus at the touch of the vile creature in front of you.

You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn’t move. You had no part of your body free to even attempt to utilize the years of training you’ve had. The bastard knew what he was doing, and it terrified you.

The man’s large and sweaty hand traveled further, and squeezed at the fabric of your ass. Against your wishes, your let out a light sob.

All of a sudden, the man was torn away from you, his tight grip causing you to stumble forward onto the grass. It all happened so fast and you looked in the direction of where the man had been pulled to.

You saw a familiar head of brown, wavy hair. Spencer was clad in a Caltech sweatshirt and jeans. He really had left the house as soon as you called. He always preferred to wear a combination of slacks and a button down or sweater.

Spencer had the man pinned against the wall, one arm against his throat and the other — oh my god. Spencer’s right hand had his gun pressed to the man’s side.

“Don’t fucking touch her. What gave you the idea you could touch her?” Spencer growled, his left arm adding pressure to the man’s throat. Spencer rarely cursed; you knew he was pissed. The last time you saw him like this was during the whole events with Emily. But even then… this was different. The veins in his neck were popping out so much it looked like they might burst. Spencer was often protective of you, knowing the dangers out there in the world, but you hadn’t ever seen him like this.

“FBI, put your hands up!” A loud voice boomed to the left of you and you quickly looked towards it, breathing out when you saw Morgan, his gun pointed towards the man and Spencer.

Despite Morgan being here now and you being safe, Spencer didn’t budge from his position against the man.

“Agent Reid,” Morgan boomed, harshly, knowingly. He knew how much Spencer cared for you, and how quickly his emotions could escalate when something he cared about was threatened.

Spencer loosened his grip slightly, and the vile man against the wall lifted his hands up in defense. Spencer hesitated, then finally released him, but pushed the man against the wall as he let go.

Morgan rushed forward and took Spencer’s place, twisting the man so his front was against the wall. He grabbed his wrists and placed them in cuffs.

You were sat, watching the scene in front of you. You felt helpless, vulnerable, stupid. You were an agent of the FBI, how could you have let this happen? You choked back a sob, but a whimper left your lips against your will.

At the soft and solemn sound, Spencer’s gaze dashed to you and his eyes were filled with worry. He rushed to you then, cursing himself for not attending to you earlier. He lifted you from the grass, clutching your shaking form against his own.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, his hot breath against your ear.

“Just my pride,” you choked, laughing grimly. “I’m so sorry I let this happen.”

His grip on you tightened, his strong hand pulling the small of your back towards him. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. We’re pretty sure he’s the unsub the local police department has been looking into.”

You shuttered at the thought. You felt like one of the victims whose smiling face was on the board in the conference room. You felt weak.

As if Spencer could hear your very thoughts, he whispered against your hair, “It’s not your fault.”

-----

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[hazelfoureyes]

The Radio Demon Fucks a Human Sacrifice (epilogue)

Mom gets fitted for dentures next week 🎊 🎉 🦷 💝

Epilogue (Promises)

You had meant it when you said it so long ago. A promise. One you intended to keep

「Warnings/Promises: Alastor x Fem Reader, Valentino x Fem reader (just TRUST ME), nipple chain, Val exists too much, Kaiju cock, pussy wet??, aphrodisiac, Alastor shade, fanatic sinners, misleading porno covers, Angel Dust is perfect as always, blood, stabbing, filming sexy things, Val in a thong, licking, hair pulling, why bad man have big dick, Alastor isn’t horny but he is possessive, pussy in the ether」

Part 1 smut 💦 Part 2 smut 💦 Side Story Part 3 smut 💦 Part 4 smut💦 Epilogue sexual

***Spoiler for people that need Val warnings*** Val dick touches reader pussy. Val explicit scenes are purple. if you skip the purple parts you will still understand the story and still be in the scene, interacting with him. Reminder, reader is there intentionally and consenting.

minors omg look over there! (🏃‍♀️💨Dni)

“I will admit, I was surprised to get your message.” Val exhaled, one hip out as he rest his weight on his right foot. You hadn’t planned on seeing him again, but as you became comfortable in hell you found yourself remembering the promise to yourself. One you made that day you met Alastor. On the floor of that studio. Your eyes scanned the room. The space was different, the set no longer your cursed cabin scene.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You took a deep breath, you’d practiced this, “Well I’ve been in hell for a while now… and I see you everywhere. I’ve been thinking,” your eyes caught on the door you were confident led to the room that held you. To the bed. Another shaky exhale, you never were much of an actress. “I really missed my chance with you. A powerful overlord… a celebrity.”

A dark chuckle from the moth, his ego fluttering, “Ooh, you’re a little celebrity in your own right. My best seller in ages.”

Oh, right. The tape. You hadn’t watched it yet. Alastor set the VHS copy on the bookshelf, an agreement made you could revisit that memory together if you ever wanted to. Not that you hadn’t heard it before. Nearly two years after its release and still people played it in public. Your first visit to Rosie started with you red faced and sputtering, having had someone on the way there thrust a DVD in front of you. 

The stranger asked for an autograph, but as soon as you saw the cover photo the entire thing had been knocked into the street by Alastor’s microphone. He had been trying to shelter you from interacting too much with the movie.

“Was that—is the cover—?” You were frozen as the sinner ran off, mind trying to process the image.

Alastor hummed, “Not what I’d choose, but I signed away all rights when I made the deal. A little misleading of a photo if you ask me.” He watched with glee as a car pulverized the disc and case. 

A blood red demonic seal splattered with a white liquid and a slender hand scraping into the wood.

“But that’s the Vees for you!”

Indeed, that was the Vees. Val gestured at you with his cigarette and its dramatic holder, “Aren’t you still with the radio demon? Not that I care.” He took a few steps towards you, getting you into arm’s reach before grabbing you by the back of the head and pulling you into him, “Just cuz there's a goalie doesn’t mean I can’t score.”

With how your head was angled back as he had your hair tightly wound in his fist you could see the TV. Always Vox News, you assumed. The time was displayed in the corner. “I am but— he doesn’t, ya know… he doesn’t know I’m here. But he’ll be looking for me soon.”

He stared down at you, pupil-less eyes without emotion. Your scalp began to burn and after a few seconds you had to shift your weight to relieve some of the pull. It made your upper stomach rub against his crotch. Not at all your intention. But you knew you’d have to touch him eventually.

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t do shit at anyone else’s speed.” His hand released your hair, “Could be fun though…,” Valentino traced along your jaw with his tongue before squeezing your cheeks in his hand, “fucking Alastor’s woman.”

He was off you as quickly as he had pounced, makeshift jacket swirling behind him as he spun around and walked to the door you’d seen before.

Another glance at the television. You had 10 minutes before Alastor would be calling. A small panic that you didn’t have enough time. 

Alastor rarely called on you, because rarely were you very far away. He didn’t have you on a leash, you just enjoyed his company. You’d scroll on your phone while he worked in his radio station  or read a book while he enjoyed his breakfast in the morning. 

Also, well, going out alone could be intimidating. People swung from two extremes when they saw you— excited fan or terrified sinner. 

The fans knew you were with Alastor. 

The other sinners knew you were with Alastor. 

The DVD incident had spooked you, not helped by the fact it had been your first outing. Alastor had been eager, even if he didn’t say it, to introduce you to the cannibal overlord. 

Having you back in his presence brought a deep seated sense of calm to him, one best compared to the feeling he had when gossiping with Rosie over coffee. Naturally he wanted his closest friend to meet the soul who’d stolen his attention. And Rosie was delighted to meet you, evident with the extravagant tea (and a singular coffee)  she set up and her litany of questions.

But every time she asked something she also seemed to answer it herself.

“Are you happy to be together again in your body?! I’m sure you are.” She offered you a finger you had to decline. 

“I bet you two have been busy.” A wink, “Though you must have been for it to take so long to get down here.”

Alastor shrunk a little as she smacked at his shoulder. You hadn’t seen him allow others to touch him before. Had that been Angel, the second one of his many arms cocked back Alastor would have stepped away or disappeared. Just a hit and you could see how close they were.

You made a point of befriending her, coming often after that initial meeting to her shop for gossip and advice. As time went on, you began to learn about Alastor’s normal. It was nice to have a mutual friend to discuss your worries and ideas with. 

“And oh! That video. Talk about hot under the collar!”, a petite laugh, “Did you see it?” Rosie waited for you to answer this time. When you shook your head no, she waved her hand, “For the best. The climax was totally unwatchable!”

You turned to Alastor, not sure what that meant, but he didn’t meet your gaze and instead slowly blinked out of sync at the bookshelves behind Rosie’s shoulder. 

“Did you know he’s not into all that?” She took a sip, “You better be patient with him ya got it?”

That question caught you off guard. Apparently for him too, Alastor coming back to life at the change of tone, “This isn’t really a tea topic, dear friend.”

Rosie hummed, “Where are my manners! I was just so relieved he didn’t up and leave for another seven years.” 

What’s a scowl shared between friends?

But shared between whatever you and Val were…?

Valentino’s wings unfurled revealing long fishnet covered legs. You watched as he swayed his hips side to side on his way to the bed. The same bed as before. You remembered the shape and purple comforter that you could see down your blindfold.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting you to already be undressed.” Where were his pants and button up? This was moving faster than you’d anticipated. 

He turned back to you as he plopped down onto the bed, “What I wear isn’t any of your business. Though, speaking of business.” He pointed to the corner, a part of the room you’d never seen before. A camera on a tripod stood there. “Turn it on.”

Your grimace was immediate. “You sure you wanna film this one?”

Impatient, he crossed his legs and leaned back on two hands, “Did you think you could just come in here, ask to fuck me and … what? It’d be all on your terms?”

Yes. 

You’d worn a dress expressly for ease, and slipped off your panties before going to the camera. For some reason you didn’t want that recorded. It seemed embarrassing. More so than what you were about to do.

Val’s turn to gawk, “You’re seriously not planning on staying dressed.”

“What I wear isn’t any of your business.” You opened the view screen and hit record.

His laugh was dark and deep, “Ooh, I forgot how feisty you were. Maybe this can be a recurring thing.”

Ignoring the comment, you tried to take in the details of the room, checking the walls and small bits of furniture. But you were immensely distracted by the moth demon, who had taken to spreading his legs open and running a hand down his barely contained bulge. Tiny, little, itty black thong, fishnets, nipple chain and… well, the hat. 

Two arms pulled you by the waist, hands gripping the flesh of your ass through the dress. 

“Why are you dressed like you’re off to teach Sunday school?” His hands slipped under the fabric and dug into your bare skin. He glanced at the camera and its small monitor to make sure he was in frame.

Your knees were brought to either side of his legs before he began to open his stance wider and wider. The action lowered your center more and more until your naked heat was resting on his package. Things were speeding up, he was moving you around so effortlessly. A problem, an absolute problem.

“Ya know I haven’t had a believable good girl to break in awhile.” His hips rose of the bed suddenly and made you bounce on his growing erection. Val groaned, a sound that made your skin crawl. 

In the reflection of his glasses you saw the white face of a marble clock on the wall behind you. 

“Could we—- can we do this lying down? Missionary? It’s been awhile and I’m feeling insecure.” The thought of the overpowering demon towering on top of you and pinning you down was… a tad terrifying. But you needed to see the clock, you couldn’t keep turning around. 

A brief thought, maybe just turning around on his lap and staying facing away from him would work, but then you remembered the camera. Didn’t need your now-rising dress to give the Vees anything exploitative to keep.

Not that everyone in all nine rings hadn’t already seen you spread open and screaming on camera.

“Actually maybe it’s okay, I can,” turn around? Your suggestion was cut short.

Val lifted you like a toy and flipped around. Your head hit the bed hard, brain jostling in your skull. One hand instinctively came to his chest to keep some distance. “No, I like this better.” A wide grin as he settled between your legs.

You leaned to the right to see the clock past his shoulder. Five minutes.

Why didn’t you wear a watch? Fuck.

He dropped his lower half onto you until his full weight was pressing his half hard cock into your stomach. Your breath tightened, running out of moveable space to expand your lungs and diaphragm.

“I wanna see you squirm.” Pink smoke was blown directly into your face, catching you off guard. But, where was the cigarette? You didn’t see it…

Your muscles went loose, the stress of the moment washing away. Both of your hands came to the center of your chest and pressed down. Security. Readiness.

Four minutes.

Alastor didn’t like you having a phone but he didn’t stop you from owning one. You had assumed you’d be on the set where you knew there would be some way to keep track of the time. Or else you’d have just worn a dress with pockets to carry a cellphone. Maybe set a timer.

You weren’t sure about Alastor’s disdain for tech until you witnessed it yourself. That square headed stalker flitting from screen to screen, riding the wires and the radio waves. He had warned you about the Vees, about Vox in particular. He didn’t have much to say about Velvette, and somehow that was better than the nothing he had to say about Valentino. 

As Val’s tongue slid up your neck, you thought about Angel. A confidant. You wished he had asked Alastor to kill Val, as a thank you for his efforts in reuniting you two. And, now that you remembered, uniting you at all. 

Instead he asked for a bigger room. Large enough for two to comfortably cohabitate.

Alastor maybe couldn’t kill Val, but he could try. When you brought it up with him he was upset. He didn’t like his name being spoken at all unless absolutely necessary 

An inadvertent moan you didn’t realize came from you until Valentino chuckled at the sound.

“Feeling it?” He cooed. You weren’t sure which it he meant. This wasn’t going quite to plan. 

Three minutes.

So much could happen in three minutes. Too much. He slid down his underwear, sitting up and letting you see him in his full glory.

Why did he have to be such a bad man?

Many men who carried big sticks were unkind. Between their legs or between their fingers. 

Alastor was an exception to the rule. 

Things did calm down for Alastor after you returned, eventually. Alastor’s desperate need was soothed with you in hell again. His appetite dying. But he hungered in new ways. Ways you hadn’t anticipated to fill your cup so full. Long and intense kisses where his hands dragged down your body and he sighed into your cheeks. You were often pulled into his side and under his arm when sharing the sofa. Soft pets to your hair as you fell asleep. 

And when you felt the need, and if he wasn’t feeling up to it, he’d lie beside you and whisper into your ear. Talking soft and low about all the ways you stole his heart and mind while his hand pumped those long fingers in and out of your own needy pussy. He’d grin into the nape of your neck when you were incapable of keeping your voice down any longer. A feeling you’d come to need. 

You didn’t need a cock to be full. And by the look of Val’s twitching monster, you’d be broken before he bottomed out.

His thumbs pulled apart your bottom lips, “Ready to spread you open so wide you won’t even feel that lanky fuck in you.” 

His third and fourth hands pushed your thighs open and back, hands you could swear felt familiar. Alastor? Or before him?

You struggled to regain focus, your fingers feeling at your bra.

Two minutes.

Legs suddenly too weak to resist, or perhaps Val too strong. Or, a third option, you weren’t trying so hard. Behind his fingers was left a burn on your skin.

“Closer.” Your lips were tingling, it felt good.

“I need you closer.”

His wide chest grew prideful, “Oh? If you’re looking for love you’re in the wrong bed, princesa.”

“No love. Chest. I can’t reach your chest.” You struggled to sit up, but managed to grab the chain connecting his pierced nipples before falling back into the bed.

A screech, a squeak, “Fuck! Watch how you handle that.” His voice rose several octaves. God, you hated him. 

You gripped the chain tightly, the feeling keeping you a little grounded. “Oops.” A whirlpool was behind your eyes, all five senses mingling and amplifying. This was dangerous. He hadn’t used this aphrodisiac on you before…maybe he had liked how much you thrashed when he tied you up and mocked you.  

His length ran up your core and you jumped. He was so hot. So…. Firm.

No. Too close.

One minute.

You had told Alastor you wouldn’t let it go too far. He said he’d not stop you, because you had said you needed to do it. But you could see the conflict behind his own gaze. What would he do if you returned smelling of Val? Dripping of him? 

Almost. Just a few more seconds. His body rolled into you, rocking you with the motion. Every passing had his cock from slit to balls sliding between your wildly wet folds. 

Timing was key for your safety. Though Alastor had made it clear you could always just bail and wait for his call.

The more Val rubbed and pressed against you you felt your mind melt a little more. Surely it would slip down your spine at this rate. 

A brief worry in the pleasurable fog, what if later on you remembered the pleasure and felt guilty? Guilty to Alastor but most importantly to yourself, for gasping and sighing under the abusive trash that dragged you to hell to begin with.

And what if you didn’t? 

Which was worse?

Which would be easier to live with?

He prodded your inner thigh. He was getting closer and closer to actually entering you.

30 seconds.

“Do you remember my promise?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” His head was hung as he stared between your bodies. He didn’t see you reach between your breasts into your bra and pull out the Carmine angelic dagger Husk had recommended to Alastor. You hadn’t been quiet about your plans.

“Odd, it’s on recording. Maybe you didn’t realize I was talking to you.” As you moved the dagger from your right side to bury it into Valentino’s chest you remembered the man in the woods. The young man at work. Angel. Here you were again. But if this ended the same as the woods, where would you go? Would Alastor be able to reach you?

“My promise to fucking kill you.”

Valentino keeled back, hand raised to slash your throat out when a green light momentarily blinded him. The sound of chains filled the room as you disappeared into nothingness underneath him. He was left slashing at his own duvet while he tried to slow the bleeding.

Alastor caught you as you fell from the portal he summoned you with. Two feet barely touching the floor as he set you in the reading chair in front of his fireplace.

He nodded at the drops of blood staining your cornflower yellow dress, “Was it a success?”

Your body slipped down the chair, dress getting caught in the friction and riding up. He leaned over and tugged it back down to hide your exposed sex.  You were too far gone to feel deja vu.

“No, I think he’s alive. He drugged me with that smoke.” Your legs were spread wide, trying to keep your weight from slipping off the chair. “I was too weak.”

Alastor sat in the chair opposite and took in the scene. Hair messy, legs open, face flush. Bloodied and breathless.

Pride ran a shiver up his spine. His doe’s second murder attempt. While he has despised the idea he couldn’t pretend he didn’t love the initiative. 

“Hey, I know you said you wouldn’t ask.” You crossed your legs at the ankle, which did nothing to stop the way the air that was rising up your dress and cooling your core. “But I didn’t fuck him.”

Alastor shrugged, “As they say, all is fair in love and war. I would understand if you did for the sake of killing him. What’s a little sex if it helps murder?”

Your hand slipped down your chest, a ghostly trail in its wake like your touch had an echo. “What a terrible way to confess you love me.”

A choked cough from the radio demon.

Your eyes slipped close. Relaxed. “I feel good.”

He hummed.

“Not from the stabbing, from the stuff in his smoke. My body is thrumming. Is my heart pounding?” You tried to stand but ended up on your knees, cheek coming to rest on his inner leg. As he leaned forward to let his hand enter your dress and rest above your heart, his face got close to yours.

“It’s frantic.” A low whisper into the shell of your ear. Pulling back he paused at your face to lick an errant drop of blood. “You reek of him.”

“He did lick me a couple times.” You watched Alastor sneer, “And he was naked, like, immediately. Oh! Oh fuck,” your head popped up with a renewed clarity, “He recorded it.”

Alastor stilled, he wasn’t thinking about the recording aspect. He was thinking on your heart, on how flushed your skin was, the sweat dripping down your neck. On the thought of Val’s tongue over your skin. “The medicine— or drug you were exposed to,” a deep breath in, “What does it feel like?”

A topic change you hadn’t expected, your body slouched into his leg, arm over his thigh for support. His eyes on your face as they always were when you were in the room. 

“Like my body is… illuminescent. Every time my clothes or something touches me, my skin lights up and my brain gets so quiet.” His palm stayed on your heart. 

“Hmm,” His hands slipped under your arm, lifting you up. Your feet were entirely off the ground now as he carried you like a dirty cat on its way to the bath. Gently, you were set onto the bed. A lovely juxtaposition.

“Every time I touch where he did, tell me.” Alastor kneeled beside you, deft fingers unbuttoning your dress. A sharp claw popped under the center of your bra and sliced through the fabric.

Your body was humming again, Val’s powerful aphrodisiac lifting up from your senses like dust under heavy footsteps. 

Goosebumps formed up your arms as the back of his fingers traced along the outside of your forearm. As he curved up your shoulder and reached your neck you breathed out a low, “There.”

You watched him lean down, warm lips kissing at your skin. A series of kisses as soft and needy as the ones he often placed on your own mouth. A shudder turned nearly violent as his hot tongue ran up your neck to your jaw.

His nose slid up your cheek, “There.” Kisses to your face, across your nose and to the other side.

He pulled back, eyes lusty and heavy lidded. He didn’t say anything, but his grim smile asked you something. You nodded, running your hands down your chest and to your thighs.

A growl you hadn’t heard in so long rumbled in his chest. He rolled you onto your stomach and pulled the dress off entirely, nails raking along your spine until they dimpled the soft fat of your ass.

“There.”

Alastor straddled you at the back of your knees. You wanted to squirm but your muscles had gone weak again. He nipped at the mounds of flesh, massaging and squeezing after every particularly sharp bite. What little part of your brain could form coherent thoughts was trying to piece together an alarm— his face was so close to your still soaking wet entrance. 

Images bubbled up where words were failing. Val’s large cock head smearing precum up your slit.

His hands roamed down your legs and feet before turning you back to face him. When you could finally see his expression again, you were surprised to see a look he hadn’t given in so long.

Needy. Desperation screamed through knitted brows, hazy eyes, and a weak smile threatening to fall flat.

As his hands slid down your stomach and reached the junction of your thighs, you started to register the little moans you were making.

But it was getting harder to hear past the radio static and pounding heartbeat in your ears.

Soft fingers traveled between your closed thighs, you hesitated before offering what you thought was a quiet, “There.”

You couldn’t hear yourself think let alone speak as the sounds both in and outside your body grew louder with every signal he’d found a new spot to cover up.

His knees pushed open your left thigh, then your right. Lowering himself, he hitched your knees and lied flat on his stomach. A bite to your inner thigh, nearly the back. A suck, sharp and strong, that ended with a pop as he released.

Nose inching closer and closer to your core, Alastor could see your hole clenching. A dribble of the evidence of your arousal being forced out and down the cleft of your ass.

You heard and felt his breathing quicken, when a finger slid down your folds you couldn’t stop the raise of your hips.

“There.”

The lights went out with a pop. Shaky breaths as his tongue swiped from entrance to clit. Lick after lick to your center like he was trying to make you clean again. Another moan you were only sure was yours cut through the now biting static that filled the air around you.

Your mind tried to piece together a sentence, “Crazy stuff… it had me so horny”, your hands ran up your chest without thinking, “I was almost hoping Val would put it in before time was gone.”

The static cut. Not even the sound of the fireplace or the crickets in the swamp portaled into his room were present anymore. 

“Isn’t that insane? Have you ever heard of such a drug?” Your eyes had closed, feeling his breath wafting down your saliva coated lips. “Alastor?”

He was being honest when he said he’d not hold it against you. But he hadn’t even considered a situation where you wanted more to happen. Than had been discussed. The very idea of Valentino mixing with you brought bile to his throat.

The drug was to blame and he could understand that, as a man. But as an overlord, as something more akin to animal in some aspects, he had the clawing urge to reclaim you. To write over even the thought of wanting to feel Valentino.

“My darling little doe, I think you need a reminder of just how much of you I possess. And the parts of me you own in turn.” 

You looked down to see glowing eyes from between your legs, his fingers snapped and while you couldn’t see what was happening past the light of his eyes, you could hear the VHS player click and then a small, “Aunt Sara….” whispered in a familiar voice.  

“I don’t understand what’s happened….”

It took a moment to register it was your own voice you were hearing from the darkness. 

“Aunt Sara isn’t here.” 

Alastor’s acting debut crowing from the old TV beside his bayou door. His eyes shifted with a blink from glowing red to black, just sharp dials visible in the shadow of his face.

“She’s made an exchange, she gets extraordinary power….and I get your soul.”

The prongs of a buck ready to clash over his territory creaked past your open thighs.

“But I want more than that. I need more than that.”

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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[jellyfishsthings]

Nerves and Stolen Kisses

I have been toying with the idea of writing a fic about him for quite sometime and after last weekend I just had to. Estelle ( Ollie's rumoured gf is mentioned here but it is a fake relationship for PR reasons.) Also Paul Aron has a gf... friends to lovers trope.

Shoutout to @httpiastri for the inspiration

The Saudi Arabian Grand Prix was fast approaching. And Ollie was a jumble of nerves and excitement as usual. Since the early hour of the day, he opened the curtains letting the sun into the room and you groaned into the pillow.

“Wakey wakey, sleepyhead. Come on, we have a whole day ahead of us.”

“No, you do. I don't know why I came.”

“Because I am your bestest friend and I paid for your ticket and let you stay with me.”

“Both of which are for your benefit.”

“Come on….”

“Fine.” You say with a dejected sigh as you get up and you both get ready for the day. David, Ollie's dad was already waiting for you and you headed towards the paddock.

Everything was a frenzy and was passing by so quickly. As Ollie got into the garage and got ready for the quali you headed towards the stands trying to find Cassie, Paul's long-term girlfriend. Throughout the years you have formed a unique friendship. She was the only one who knew about your crush on Ollie and she teased you endlessly about it. Ollie and you had been best friends for the better part of your life, joint to the hip, having endless sleepovers, even if Dad didn't approve.

It was an endless nightmare being close enough to get a taste of all the what ifs, but never experiencing them.

“Do you and your lover boy share a room, huh?”

“It's not like that and you know it, Cassandra.”

“Yeah, it hurts, doesn't it?”

“So much. You have no idea. Yesterday I couldn't sleep and as the hours passed, he came closer and closer. He ended up holding me in his sleep. And I felt so bad because of Estelle. I know that they aren't really together and it's for PR, but still, I feel awful because technically I am the other woman… and she is just so nice and sweet. Never overstepping, I think she knows.”

We both stay quiet after that as the session continues.

“You know… whatever the case. You both love each other, platonically or not.”

“Yeah, I know.” I say as I watch the times set by all the drivers, Ollie having the fastest one yet.

“Looks like your man is on pole.”

We both make our way through the paddock, trying to pass the roaring sea of fans and we hand out already-signed autographs to anyone who asks for them. When we finally arrive, we part ways, before making promises about having dinner together at a restaurant Cassie wanted to try. And I head towards the Prema garage finding two beaming Bearmans, hugging.

“Hey Bear. Did you drive fast enough?” You call at him. And he grins like an idiot before swooping you into a tight hug spinning you. His laughter echoes in your ears as he sets you down.

“Yeah I drove fast enough, you minx.”

“Good. Now let's go. We are having dinner with Paul and Cassie in four hours and I want to see the city.”

“Give me five minutes to change and we are good to go.”

The afternoon is spent visiting local stores, trying to communicate in scrappy English and making terrible puns with products or street names. When they finally head to the restaurant their sides hurt from laughing. Dinner passed by as quickly as it came. As everyone says, time flies by when you are with the people you love.

Just as they open the door for their hotel room, Ollie flops in the bed as you head towards your computer and open it as hoards of emails and messages appear on the screen. Great more deadlines and essays to write until the end of the week.

“Leave it. We can pretend that we have nothing to do and watch a movie or local TV and try to understand what the hell is going on.”

“Thanks Bear. But I can't, as tempting as your offer is. Go to sleep, I will join you soon.”

And so you sit in front of your computer, ending essay after essay, sending them on time, until your eyes hurt from the pale blue light. The bed seems more welcoming than ever before as Ollie starfishes the entire length of it and his soft snores fill the empty space. Yeah, maybe it's time to call it a day.

An awful sound echoes in the room and eventually wakes you.

“I swear if it's one more ad I will jump from the window.” You grumble into your pillow as you steal the blankets and turn yourself into a burrito.

Ollie hisses as he opens his phone only to find a ton of messages and many missed calls from Ferrari. He dials Fred back as he moves towards the bathroom, trying to let you steal a few more minutes of much needed sleep.

When he emerges back in the room he sits down in front of you, his back supported on the bed.

“Ols, what's going on?”

“Carlos has an appendix”

“Oh no. Is he having surgery?”

“Yeah.” He says softly. “They want me to replace him.”

“What?” At that you are fully awake. Your hair is a netted nest and you look at him in shock. He looks at you, you his best friend who would look like a mess to anyone else but to him you look like the most beautiful and amazing creature in the world. Your mere presence has a more calming effect on him than anything else. If it weren't for you, he would have already lost his mind. “How? When? I…”

“We need to get to the paddock, if I don't want to miss FP3. I will wake up Dad and break the news to him.”

Soon after you enter the paddock and thousands of reporters try to get a better look at Ollie, flashing their cameras at you and bombarding you with questions as you make your way to the Ferrari garage and mechanics steal Ollie from you and David as they set to work quickly. David looks pale and sick as he paces into the garage trying to control his nerves through the FP3 and the Quali. When Ollie finally got off the car when he scored the 11th place, missing Q2 only by 3 hundreds of a second, you knew that this was it. He was finally shining like the bright star he was. He had done more than enough, his raw talent showing with barely one hour to get used to the car. And as mechanics and reporters closed around him. You couldn't help but feel like you didn't belong here. Where did you fit in? The reality hit you and it hit you hard. You hid in the back corners of the garage, eyes glued to the screen as everyone passed by without acknowledging you. You would happily hide in the shadows where he shined but this world wasn't meant for you. The anxiety was picking up at you, eating you alive from the inside.

And when Ollie got too close to the wall, your heart stopped beating. He was driving a car that was twice as fast and twice as dangerous than his normal F2 car. It was too much. The sound, the danger, everything really. Breathing suddenly seemed so hard and you needed a way out. As you hide behind the garage you call the one person who could understand. Terri picks up in the second ring her soft voice already calming you.

“Hey love. Is everything alright?”

“How do you do it? How can you stand back and do nothing?”

“You love him, don't you sweetheart?”

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Well … no I always hoped but… whatever the case, to answer your question you simply do it, you just have to. A driver needs his support system and you are it for him. You are his forever person, whether that is romantically or not. He needs to be near you and as much nervous as you are, so is he. Without you he would be lost, believe me I know my son. And I can bet you that as much as your heart breaks right now, you are also immensely proud.”

“Of course I am. But where do I fit in, in this world.”

“Right beside him, love.”

“Thanks Terri. Please call David. I think he is losing his mind and he is sick with worry.” You say chuckling before saying your goodbyes and head back towards the garage. The session is already over and Ollie is nowhere in sight.

Ollie plays with the power button of his phone trying to calm down but to no avail. The lock screen is a photo of the two of you. It was last summer both your skins flushed and hair slightly wet and tangled. You both smile at the camera and your eyes look bright with happiness. He feels slightly lighter but he knows that there is an impending panic attack and so he turns to the one person who could help him in this situation.

"I got your text," you say, tiptoeing inside and shutting the door behind you, careful to not make any loud sounds to scare him. "How are you doing?”

Ollie is sitting on a massaging table, elbows on top of his legs and head resting in his hands. His eyes are stuck on the floor, his silence is defeaning. When he still doesn't answer, your heart rate picks up. Is something really wrong?

You make your way over to him, hands finding his cheeks and softly tilting him up to look at you – and you swear you've never seen him look this wrecked before. Not after his worst crashes, not when he lost the rookie championship last year, not when he was cheated out from the Formula 3 championship. Once again, you've entered completely new territory, and your heart breaks at the sight.

"Ollie, talk to me," you plead, holding back the tears that starts to form on your eyes and threatento spill. It's so painful to look into his eyes, but you can't back down. Not now, not when he needs you this much.

"I'm-" his voice cracks but he shakes his head, clearing his throat. "I'm so nervous, I don't know what to do."

It's like he's oozing anxiety, and his heavy sigh is like a stab in your chest. Ollie, your usually so calm and collected best friend is probably going crazy over this – you know him well enough by now to understand that he's definitely freaking out even more on the inside than what he shows or tells. He is a messy jumble of nerves.

"I get that. One hundred per cent. But.." your thumbs begin to stroke over the skin of his cheeks, along his jaw, and then finally across his eyebrows, to which his eyes flutter closed. "This is your dream. It's been your dream since forever, and now you finally have the chance.”

"And it's not just any car, it's a Ferrari. Do you realize how cool that is? Do you realize how many people would kill for an opportunity like this?" You smile at the sight of him with his eyes still shut, eyelashes resting atop his cheeks, messy fringe covering his forehead. Even like this, at his most stressed state, he's completely gorgeous, not that you would ever tell him that. "You would've killed for an opportunity like this just 24 hours ago."

"But what if I ruin it?" His voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks, shoulders slumping forward. "What if I go out there and I'm shit, and then they realize what a big mistake they've made by even putting me in the academy? What if-"

"It won't happen." His eyelids slowly open and he looks up at you, seemingly not even the slightest upset that you cut him off. "You're too good to do that. You'll get in that car and it will feel like your second home, just like it always does."

Finally, a small smile makes its way onto his lips. It's only been a few minutes since you came in, but he seems much more relaxed now, leaning into your touch completely. "I'll try my best to make you proud."

“I'm always proud of you, you mufflehead.”

A laugh bubbles from his chest and he stands up from the table, opening his arms wide and pulling you in for a tight hug. His heart is still beating louder than a drum in his chest when your ear is pressed up against it, and you're almost worried it will jump out any second now. But his breaths are much more controlled now, and his mind seems much lighter. And soon enough his heartbeat slows to normal.

“I bet that in twenty four hours not only will you finish the race, you will score points and beat Max Verstappen.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves” he says chuckling. “God, my neck is killing me.”

“Sit down. I've got you.” And so you start massaging his neck. It's stiff and hard under your hands and he lets a small groan as you untangle one of the knots that were quite painful. After a few minutes he is putty in your hands, his eyes closed, trusting you completely and feeling at ease for the first time in the past two days.

True to your world, Ollie crosses the finish line in seventh place, having gained points in his debut. But the one thing that kept him calm through the process was the thought that she was waiting for him in the cool down room. When the race finishes and drives the car back home he jumps from his seat and he can't get fast enough to her. People around him are praising him and congratulating him but they all fall to deaf eyes.

When he finally gets into the room to change into new fireproofs, she is patiently waiting for him. Her eyes are a little misty and her face flushed.

“I told you.”

“I didn't beat Max.”

“Still.”

She closes in on him and her hands are thrown around his neck, he reciprocates the hug immediately as his heart beat finally slows down. They doth draw away after a while only for him to dive back into her and kiss her firmly on the lips. Shock petrifies her and when he stops, he places his forehead on top of hers. He is a flustered mess and he is mumbling apologies, before she reconnects their lips.

For the following hours Ollie sports a shit-eating grin on his face. Everyone thinks that it is because of his amazing performance and not for kissing the girl that held his heart captive since they were five years old.

[maikissed]

a secret sweetheart

jude bellingham x reader

summary: an unexpected article containing an appaling gossip is out. everybody wants to know who Jude's secret sweetheart is... warnings: none, maybe some misspells, I'm sorry, I'm writing like crazy to release some stress as of late...

You jumped up on you seat as soon as your eyes landed on the article. Your mouth wide open, you were hurriedly eyeing the words written in the most outrageous and presumptive manner. And the pictures too, how was it that the moment captured by lenses of a camera was showing such inconsistent image? Giving off the impression that everything described below might most likely be real. Your eyes turning wider and wider with every read word, you turned restless in a span of a second. You huffed analysing the photos, your lip nervously placed between your teeth, you were fuming. It perfectly presented your wide smile, little summer dress on you, his hand placed on your hip, he was looking down at you, his eyes engrossed in something you might have had said seconds before the picture was taken, delicate, tender smile upon his lips. It was indeed sending some kind of message. And you were furious.

“Jude” you called after energetically entering the living room.

His eyes shot up from his phone, he eyed you curiously.

“Have you seen this?” you approached him quickly, the screen of your phone practically in his nose.

He groaned, grabbing your wrist to steady your hand and fleetingly eyed the article. Not even giving it a proper attention. He didn’t seem bothered at all, your eyes widened at his reaction, or lack of it, truth be told.

“What about it?” he asked nonchalantly in a calm voice.

“What about it?! Can you see what it says?!” you screeched, feeling almost hysterical.

“I can see they called you stunning” he beamed at you, relaxing on the sofa.

“Jude!” you almost yelled “The whole world now believes that I am your secret sweetheart!” you accented the last two words using your fingers to present the quote gesture; these were in fact words used in the material.

He opened his mouth to comment on that, but you silenced him angrily with a quick flick of your hand and started to read:

“Now we can say that it is kind of unexpected turn of events for us. Jude Bellingham, an English professional footballer who plays as a midfielder for spanish La Liga club Real Madrid and the England national team, finally presented his secret sweetheart! Not yet spotted accompanied by any lady, despite many rumours of dating the prettiest lot of models and famous influencers, was seen strolling the streets of California with an… unknown beauty. We must say she is stunning, true pleasure to the eyes. And we are surprised, we’ve been hearing so much about his latest infatuation with the Dutch model, Laura Celia Valk” you could hear him scoff but you did not avert your gaze from the article, raising your voice to make sure he won’t interrupt you “But there weren’t any unveiled revelations about their relationship and now we can openly say – multimillionaire star has his eyes and attention somewhere else. And his eyes are full of adoration! We have it all on pictures! Just take a look and tell us this is not the most enjoyable view of a young love blossoming between these two. Why all this secrecy, Jude? Scream, shout and show your happiness to the whole world! We’re waiting for some more sweet content from these two!”

Your cheeks heated, your chest rising and falling in exasperation. You looked at him expectantly. You could see he was fighting a smile, the corner of his lip rising in a smirk. He was amused, you were vexed and anxious.

“When will all this shite with Laura end?” he frowned and you grabbed the nearest pillow placed beside him to throw it in his direction.

“It ends now because the whole of Internet will blow out with these pictures!”

“Wait a second, let me call them and tell them to delete it this instant. What was the name of the site again?” he leaned to grab the phone from you but you swiftly yanked your hand up.

“Be serious” you growled.

“We were on vacation, they were smart and took the pictures. It’s how media and paps work, there’s not much we could do” he shrugged, still way too calm about this for your liking.

At some point you were prepared that the ongoing, growing interest in his persona would make him more vulnerable and seen, followed. You knew people were very much interested in private lives of stars, especially the rising ones that were the hottest subject around, but you hoped that none of such assumptions would be brought regarding the relations between you two. It was a threat for your own life, your privacy. You feared the repercussions, yet somehow you turned a blind eye. And there you had the consequences. Right in your hand.

“What happens if Kit sees these?” you murmured looking away from your friend.

“Is he that insecure?” he mocked, but you didn’t answer him, your gaze timid and withdrawn as you looked at him briefly “What is it? You didn’t tell him who you’re friends with?” he asked in a simple voice, you stayed silent and a second after you could hear him let out an amused gasp “Ooh, were you keeping me secret, sweets?”

You sharply turned your head to spot a cheeky grin painted on his face. You started to look for that pillow once more.

“Why would I bring up the subject of Mister Jude Bellingham so soon? It’s very fresh, he’d probably end up pining over you” you spat, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Is your choice in men that poor?” he chuckled.

“Don’t be rude” you fought “Like your choice in girls is most tasteful”

“From that appealing article I’d say it is”

Your hands fell down your body and you squinted your eyes at him, agitated by his unmoved attitude and ignorance.

“You will not use me for your good press!” you hissed turning around with intention to leave the room, but Jude quickly grasped your hand before you stormed off.

“That’s not what I meant, y/n” his voice calm and gentle when he pulled you closer to where he was seated.

You stood between his knees, upset and worried, your head down.

“Come here” he murmured making more room for you to sit beside him.

Many thoughts kept raging through your brain. You’ve been thoughtless and silly, hoping that your lives would stay easy and uncomplicated no matter the odds. There was worry blooming inside you, but not exactly about your own self, your own private life; you worried such events would made you both have to choose. Choose to be close, or choose to finally part. You were fearful.

“What’s on your mind now?” he whispered, gently nudging your side.

“How can we be friends amongst all this?” you asked turning your head to look at him.

He had the extraordinary ability to calm your nerves with a soft blink of his eyes, delicate, reassuring smile and tenderness seeping into his gaze as he looked at you. You held it in highest regard, the fact that he always was your safe haven. It should worry you, it did sometimes, but you relished in it still.

“Oh no, don’t start with it” he whined with a funny look on his face “I’m not breaking up with you because of some gossips”

You snorted at his reaction.

“How will I be able to date if any man I meet would most likely compare himself to you?”

The sarcastic question made him laugh loudly and you slapped him briefly on the arm, feeling abashed. How infuriating this boy could be.

“Too bad for them” he shrugged “You can date me then, everybody thinks you already are” that added sentence making you scoff.

“Fuck you” you retorted.

“Sure, why not, we could start with that to break the ice”

“Jude!” you gasped in protest, adding a frustrated groan at his flippancy, trying to stand up from the sofa, but he was quick to snatch you back into his arms.

Your life would most likely complicate much more as long as he was present in it.

[simpforboys]

what you need

rafe cameron x f!kook!reader, slight jj maybank x f!kook!reader

summary: when Rafe hears about your desire for JJ, he quickly steps in to remind you of what you actually need.

warnings: smut!! dirty talk, possessiveness, mostly canon!rafe, swearing, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie, fluff, drug/alcohol use, degradation, terms (slut, whore, bitch, etc), breeding kink, kinda cnc (?)

based on what you need by abel tesfaye (the weeknd)

not proof read!! (as always) <3

it fucking killed Rafe that you slowly stopped answering his messages.

it fucking killed Rafe that you slowly began to hang out more with JJ Maybank.

and it fucking killed Rafe when he found out you fucked JJ Maybank.

twice.

Rafe hadn’t seen you for a few months. while the two of you had an on and off fling, everyone in Kildare knew you were Rafe’s.

no one dared to question the Kook Prince, especially since the rumors of his decreasing sanity went around.

Rafe was with Barry, the strong scent of marijuana and beer in Barry’s little trailer.

Rafe set up a line with his credit card, snorting the powdery white substance. he leaned back against the couch, closing his eyes slightly as the intense drug coerced through his pumping veins.

“dude, did you hear that Y/n fucked Maybank?” Barry asked suddenly, lighting a cigarette after he snorted his own line of cocaine.

Rafe’s already wide pupils grew wider. the veins in his neck began to bulge as he clenched his jaw.

the reason why it fucking pained Rafe to hear you fucked JJ was because the whole time you two had your fling, you would constantly tease him.

whether you two were on your sofa, your hips moving against his quickly as you chased your orgasm over his clothed cock.

and as soon as you would cum in your panties, you would leave him dry. every. fucking. time.

no matter how badly Rafe wanted to feel your pussy, you held off on him.

and to find out that a worthless fucking pogue got to your pussy before he did? oh, he wished he didn’t see JJ or else he might’ve killed the dude.

Rafe didn’t respond to Barry’s words. all the kook did was light a cigarette, letting it lay low on his lips as he collected his shit. with the keys to his car, and suddenly feeling as sober as ever, Rafe drove out of Barry’s driveway.

you lived a couple blocks away from Rafe on Figure 8. he knew your address like the back of his hand, so when he pulled onto your street he parked his truck on the curb before walking to your front door.

you opened the door, surprised to see Rafe standing there. he had a backwards hat on, a navy blue polo shirt, and tan cargo shorts on.

his baby blue eyes were dark and clouded, the white around his pupils now bright red from the drugs.

“the hell are you doing here? you smell awful.” you asked him, your eyebrows furrowed.

Rafe’s eyes raked down your figure. wearing a lace silk pj set, your breasts peeked over the top as it hung low on your chest.

Rafe paid your question no mind as he walked inside your house. “Rafe-“

“is anyone home?” Rafe asked, still staring out onto your backporch that overlooked the ocean.

“no, what the fuck do you want?” you asked, watching his tall body approach yours. in one swift motion, he captured your lips in his.

he pressed your back against the door, his fingers locking the knobs. his hand moved to your hip, pressing your body to his.

the taste of liquor melted on your tongue as you kissed him back, your core throbbing from the sudden action.

he quickly walked you backwards until you landed onto your plush white couch. your head rested against the patterned pillow as Rafe hovered over you, his hand running down your thigh.

“you gonna be a good girl f’me?” he asked against your lips, moving to kiss and nip down your neck. his eyes practically bulged out of its sockets when he saw a hickey directly on your breast.

a small growl escaped his mouth as you whined with need. you felt his tongue trace the bruised skin, before sucking the flesh into his mouth.

“fucking answer me, Y/n.”

“yes- Rafe, i’ll be a good girl.”

you sighed out as Rafe slid your shirt up, revealing your breasts. his eyes seemed to enlarge at the sight, before he swiftly sucked your left nipple into his mouth.

“tell me what that nasty ass pogue did to you, Y/n. where’d he touch you?” Rafe asks, his voice in a rasp and deeper than normally.

he was so pissed, and his questions made you buck your hips against his abs. “Rafe, is that what this is ab-“

“you’re gonna answer all my fucking questions and behave, understood?” he asked roughly, grabbing your jaw as he forced you to stare at him in the eyes.

what you saw wasn’t the man you were used to, but instead an animal coming to claim his territory. and the idea fucking turned you on.

“he- he sucked my tits…” you trailed off, letting out a small sigh as you felt Rafe’s mouth latch onto your nipple once more.

like he needed to be better than JJ, needed to show you what it’s like to fuck a real man.

“and he…” your face felt warm as you admitted all of this information to Rafe. but his lips felt chilly against your hot skin, and it was driving you insane.

“did he touch you here, Y/n?” Rafe asked suddenly. his fingers danced over your clothed pussy, making you jolt in response.

you nodded at his question.

“he ate me out,” you shyly admitted.

Rafe hummed in response, tugging your shorts down onto the wood floor. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, pulling your body til your pussy was on full display for him.

he spread your legs wide, the cool air hitting your soaked pussy. your clit twitched from the temperature, and the fact that Rafe Cameron was staring at your vagina like it was his last meal before death row.

“yeah? that little fucking pogue touched my pussy?” Rafe asked, kissing and nipping your inner thighs. his knees rested on the rug as he leaned forward into your cunt.

“‘m sorry,” you breathed out. your legs twitched when you felt his hot breath ghost over your clit.

your back arched slightly when finally began his attack on your cunt. he circled his tongue skillfully along your clit, his two fingers going up to collect your juices.

“oh my god, Rafe,” you whimpered. your hands gripped your tits, massaging your nipples.

as Rafe entered his fingers into your cunt, he left a kiss on your clit. “fuck, Y/n. does the pogue have a tiny dick? you’re so fucking tight.”

you couldn’t respond as Rafe’s fingers quickly found the spongey spot inside your walls. your legs began to shake with ecstasy and Rafe’s naughty words weren’t helping.

it was like he studied your body like a map, knowing all the little tricks to get you closer to your orgasm.

so when Rafe began to suck on your clit, he sent small hums from his throat. the action caused it to send vibrations up to your clit, making you almost scream out.

“fuck, just like that.” you told the man, your eyes fluttering shut as a knot formed tightly into your stomach.

you tried to delay your orgasm, knowing that coming within the first three minutes would be embarrassing.

but to Rafe, it made his cock throb with need as he fought to get you to cum on his tongue.

he sped up his fingers, sucking harshly on your clit until he felt your walls contract against his fingers.

you moaned out as you came, your legs shaking as you gripped onto the pillow behind your head.

Rafe gave another kiss to your clit, working on his own shorts. he unbuttoned them and quickly pulled the zipper down, revealing his big cock.

roughly eight inches, with a prominent vein running from the base to his pink tip. pre cum oozed out of the tip, as he used the juices from your cunt to work his hand up and down his cock.

“look at me.” Rafe commanded, making you to leave your euphoric state. your eyes went wide when you saw his dick, standing proudly at you.

“holy shit…” you whispered to yourself, placing your hand on his cock. you felt it twitch against your touch.

“you gonna be a good fucking slut and take it all?” he asked rhetorically, knowing that either way you would take it.

“Rafe i need you.” you said quietly, wanting his large cock inside of you. he was bigger than JJ, but JJ had a slightly bigger girth.

“what was that?” he hummed, using his tip to slap against your clit as he teased you.

“i fucking need you, Rafe.” you admitted out loudly, desperate to finally feel him inside of you.

“don’t you ever fucking forget that, got it?” Rafe said darkly, sliding his member into your cunt.

you let out a small squeal from his sudden roughness. both of you moaned as your walls worked to fit around his massive cock.

as Rafe began to piston his hips, sliding his dick balls deep and pulling out to just the tip, your mind began to grow hazy from the feeling.

it was like your pussy was made for him, Rafe kept telling himself.

“you like that dick, baby? taking it so well… did Maybank fuck you like this? hmm?” Rafe speaks, mostly searching for your validation.

you nod, although you’re barely listening. his cock is hitting your cervix and driving against your g-spot as he pushes in and out of you quickly.

“you’re gonna be a fucking whore for the pogues, gotta show you how a real man fucks.” Rafe murmurs, holding your body tightly so if you made any effort to escape he could stop you.

“Rafe- ‘s too much,” you pant.

“i thought you said you were gonna be a good girl?” he taunted you, his eyes deep with lust as he held the back of your head and neck, forcing you to stare at him as he fucked you.

you didn’t respond to his comment, pure pleasure consuming your body. it felt like he was folding you like a pretzel, your body spread wide and open for him to take you any way he pleased.

and you didn’t seem to mind, not when he can dick you down this good.

“been everyone’s slut but mine, yeah? how’d the town feel knowing that you’re fucking ran through, and didn’t even let me get a piece.”

Rafe was now speaking to himself, but the fact that he was degrading you and making you his bitch almost made you cum.

“this pussy is fucking mine, Y/n. say it.”

“my pussy is yours.” you squeaked out, only half listening to his words as he marked you.

“louder.” he demanded you, slapping your cheek slightly to get you to focus.

“my pussy is yours, Rafe! fuck!” you shouted, clenching your walls against his cock.

the devilish grin that formed on his face was enough to almost send you over the edge, like almost tripping over a mountain edge.

and as your body jolted in his hands, he continued to grunt quietly until soft whimpers escaped his mouth.

the noises barely danced off the tip of his tongue, but fuck, it was like music to your ears. Rafe fucking Cameron, whimpering for you.

“you wanna cum, baby?” he cooed at you, taking his thumb and rubbing circles on your clit.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the action, your pussy clenching once again.

“please,” you begged.

“tell me how badly you need it. how badly you need me.”

“Rafe i need to cum so fucking bad. i need you to let me cum- i fucking need you, Rafe.”

your words were coming off broken as you pleaded, taking every fiber of your body to not orgasm right there.

“cum on this dick, Y/n.” Rafe demanded, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm.

the way you entire body convulsed caused Rafe’s dick to twitch inside your cunt, making him so fucking close.

your cunt was perfect and he couldn’t imagine fucking anyone else after you.

“you want me to cum in this fucking cunt? show everyone that you’re my little pregnant whore?” he coos, his smirk still on his face as he bit his lip at the idea.

“i wanna be your pregnant little whore, Rafe.” you responded, catching him off guard. you felt the way he twitched once more.

“fuck, you’re gonna look so hot carrying my baby. mark you as mine so this whole fucking town knows not to go near you.” Rafe says, sucking on your tit as he cums.

his seed shoots inside of you, coating your walls with his kids. you ran your hand through his hair, his hat thrown somewhere off to the side. you both panted against each other, trying to find your breath from the pure ecstasy.

Rafe hugs your body close to his, coming up to rest against the couch. you curl into his arms, tiredness erupting over your body as you yawn.

within minutes, you were passed out on his chest as he pulls a blanket over the two of you.

“i love you, Y/n.” Rafe whispers against your temple, pressing a small, tender kiss to the skin.

[woahjo]

CAAALLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!

police officer Gojo who likes to fuck his partner police officer y/n on their free time

like they have a break or sum and they just fuck. not eat not rest, just fuck.

once they get like a message saying “we got someone” or sum thing, IT DONT MATTER OF GOJO WAS ABOUT TO CUM OR READER IS DRIPPING, THEY COMPLETELY STOP AND GO PROFESSIONAL MODE

YOU ARE SO UNSERIOUSSSSSSS!!!!!!!! mid fuck but bro it's go time....

like a fwb situation...... yeah..

cw: cop!gojo, fwb, car sex, no foreplay, mentions of teasing, possessiveness, overstimulation (m!receiving), little to no aftercare (interrupted sort of), no condom, spit

gojo crowds you into the backseat of the car, standing in front of the open side door. it's parked just behind an old warehouse, out of sight from the street lamps illuminating the nearby busy road. the cruiser lights are off and he fumbles hurriedly for his belt, the metal clamoring as he tosses it haphazardly onto the floor of the backseat.

"i'd say we have fifteen minutes," he breathes, crawling over you and pushing you deeper into the car.

you reach for his buttons, fingers trembling with anticipation as his hands move down to remove your belt and unbutton your uniform pants. satoru leans over to kiss you. he's sloppy and over eager, fumbling blindly with your bottoms and helping to pull them off as you raise your hips off the seat.

"close the door," you mutter, not really letting him sit up to do so.

he reaches behind him and grabs the handle, slamming it shut and situating onto all fours.

"ouch, fuck- my feet," he says, leaning down again to kiss you.

you reach eagerly between the two of you, fishing his cock from his boxers, already hard and leaking. he shudders when you touch him, his head relaxing a little against your mouth as he groans. you feel it vibrate against your lips, gathering precum with your thumb and spreading it down.

"you're already hard," you say, half-teasing, spitting into your open palm and taking him in your hand again.

"obviously," he groans, leaning to kiss at the sensitive skin on your neck. satoru bites down on the soft flesh and you gasp at the sudden feeling. "look at you."

you snort a small laugh, taking the back of his head in your free hand and guiding him back to your mouth. your hand runs along the steady curve of his cock, squeezing a little harder when you get to the top just to feel the way he jumps against your palm. you'd tease him all day if you could. satoru has a really nice way of acting when you get him riled up. he whines like a needy puppy, bucking his hips with teary eyes. you don't have time for that today though and guide him to your entrance with relative ease.

"you want it?" he asks through a slick grin.

"cocky little-" satoru pushes himself inside of you, interrupting your sentence, "shit."

satoru lets out a low groan as he slides in, dropping his head to mouth at the exposed skin of your collarbone. he bullies the hem of your shirt down with his face, biting and licking at any skin fortunate enough to be reached.

"knees up," he mumbles, reaching behind them and hiking them up to his waist.

it's an aggressive motion and he hits a sensitive spot on your leg that makes you wince. it'd have been unpleasant if you didn't like the way he handled you in his fervor. overeager and desperate, you find that he likes it when he man-handles you a bit in this needy state.

satoru rolls his hips into you, tucking himself deeper with a moan. you shudder, knotting your fingers into the fabric of his shirt and putting another hand on his ass to push him farther. he doesn't really waste any time easing you in. sometimes, satoru will fuck you painstakingly slowly just to savor the way you clench. today, he seems to be on a mission, bullying your cunt until it's molded into the shape of him.

when you're worked up like this, whining and clasping at his back to pull him closer, you sometimes feel like you're made for him. like god preordained satoru fucking you in the backseat of this cruiser behind this dumpy warehouse. it just feels right.

you can feel the muscles in his upper back shift with each thrust. you feel the way they tremble under your fingertips, threatening to break under the pressure of his pleasure. satoru kisses you sloppily while he fucks you, all teeth and tongue. he bites at your bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. you tug your head back to let him pull on it, sucking the fleshy skin into his mouth before soothing his tongue over the ache.

"shit," he breathes. "i'm gonna cum first again."

"that's fine," you respond, taking the back of his head and pulling him close. "cum. please." you do this so often that it feels normal.

satoru sits up on his knees and takes your waist in his hands, situating you so that your hips are resting on the tops of his thighs. it's a bit uncomfortable, but he hits you deeper this way, getting you much closer, much faster. you gasp, reaching down to grab his wrists.

he piston's his hips, the exposed skin of his waist and pelvis slapping angrily against your inner thighs. you begin to tremble and satoru's grip on your waist tightens before he finishes inside of you. he fucks himself through his own orgasm with shaky breaths, mumbling about how he hopes you'll never be able to fuck anyone else.

you're not even sure if he knows he does this. satoru babbles like a man possessed. he says things that you think could probably get him arrested if you weren't as into it as you are. you clench down around him as pressure swells in your lower abdomen and satoru blindly begs for it.

"oh, come on," he says, practically drooling as he forces his eyes open. "come on, come on, come on, come on..."

when you cum, arching your back towards him as pleasure floods your body, you tighten your legs around him. your whole body shakes with relief, the desperation easing into something less urgent.

"there it is.." he says softly as you ride out the rest of it on his stilled hips.

finally, you let yourself relax. satoru leans against the window behind him, his tall framed crammed into the space. both of your chests heave and you stare at him for a second, just soaking in the image of him.

his shirt is unbuttoned at the top, loosened from all of your pulling, and his softening cock sits pretty against his thigh. you can see his lower abdomen peeking out from where his pants are sloppily unbuttoned and you watch as he tucks himself back into his boxers, zip up his pants, and blows a loose strand of white hair from his face.

you nudge him with your knee, feeling a second wind coming on and satoru gives you a puzzled look.

"what?"

you tuck your chin down and press your knee to him again, smiling a little.

"i kinda want a second round," you say casually, your eyes roaming the exposed part of his stomach. "you look good."

satoru laughs and bangs his head lightly against the window once. you know it fuels his ego when you say things like that and you smile at the way he grins. he's just about to lean back over you when the radio hums to life and illuminates the inside of the car with a glowing green.

you groan as you listen to the call. nothing serious, but you can't just ignore it and satoru grits his teeth and gives up on undoing his pants again, kissing you quickly before stepping out of the backseat.

[nadvs]

how dare u just end it there “…they’d be competitive over who can make the other one moan louder 🤭”

pls do a lil blurb🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

they’re definitely the kind of couple who always want to one-up each other 🙂‍↕️

based on this fic! 18+!

» au masterlist

it starts with a text. she’s sitting in a lecture when she gets a message from rafe saying: that was you holding back last night? you were screaming.

they’ve been official for a few weeks now. rafe already thought the sex was incredible, but now that they’re together, paired in something real, it’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced.

they hooked up in her dorm the night before. they were under her sheets, rafe on top, moving with hard, fast thrusts, their moans interlaced in the air. before, as they undressed each other, she said they’d have to hold back because she didn’t want her neighbors to hear.

“you sure you can be quiet?” he asked.

“someone’s sure of himself,” she teased.

now, as she reads his text, her skin flushes hot, remembering the slow, sexy grunts he was letting out. she replies: you were louder than me.

he texts back: no baby i think the whole building heard you. she replies: you’re remembering wrong…

he says: do i have to prove it? she texts: yes.

that night, they go out on a date, and instead of starting the engine when they reach his car after dinner, rafe leans closer to her, putting a hand on her bare thigh, lifting up her dress.

“you wanna go somewhere you don’t have to worry about being loud?” he asks.

she can only nod, body tingling at the feeling of his hand dipping to grip her inner thigh.

he parks the car at the dead end of a street, no buildings in sight, and wastes no time shutting off the engine and shifting to unbuckle her seatbelt.

they’re a tangle of limbs as they kiss and shift to the backseat, rafe sitting up while she straddles him, their breaths shallow.

he grips her ass as she grinds against him, their cheeks grazing with every movement.

“none of that holding back bullshit, alright?” he rasps into her ear.

“yeah,” she breathes. “and none of that i’m louder bullshit, either.”

rafe smirks against her mouth.

“you honestly think i’m louder?” he says. “i really do need to prove it, hmm?”

“i guess i need to record us,” she sighs.

the thought thrills him as he watches her lean back to pull her phone out from her purse. she settles her phone onto the console, the car too dark to film any visuals, but close enough to film their sounds.

he grips her ass tighter once she settles on him again, a whispered gasp spilling from her mouth.

“already losing?” he teases.

she lowers her hand between their bodies, gripping him over his jeans. he whispers a shit, making her smile.

it’s immediately a competition, both of them doing what they know will earn moans of pleasure from the other.

he yanks the front of her dress down, capturing her nipple in his mouth. she strains to hold back her moan.

she unzips his jeans, roughly tugging them down with his boxers, rubbing the precum over his tip with her thumb, making him throw his head back and groan low.

he dips two fingers into her mouth, getting them wet with her spit, before shifting her panties to the side and sinking them inside her. this time, she can’t stifle her moan.

she rides his fingers, writhing and panting, eventually getting so impatient that she grasps his wrist to move his hand so she can ride him the way she wants to. she holds him at his base as she sinks down onto him, his groan filling the car.

“fuck,” rafe murmurs. “no warning?”

“do you need one?” she taunts.

his hands tightly grasp her hips, feeling her roll her body, using him, leaning forward to rub her clit against his skin to find the best friction.

she rolls her eyes back as he tightens his hold onto her hips and starts fucking her from his seated position, thrusting hard.

her breathy moans are getting away from her, so she covers her mouth with her hand, but he roughly grips her wrist and pins it at her lower back, locking his lips against the crook of her neck as he slams into her.

she clenches around him, purposely to provoke him, and it works, his groan deep and guttural.

“you’re not gonna make me come first,” he whispers.

“i am,” she says, “you’re gonna come so fucking hard inside me.”

“goddamn,” he groans. “you can’t talk like that.”

“because i’ll win?”

rafe clenches his jaw, shifting to get her on her back. she sinks into the firm seat as he cups the back of her knees, propping her legs up before he leans to push into her again.

he hates that he can’t move as freely as he wants to in the backseat, but it’s enough to make her gasp in pleasure when he starts to rub her clit with his thumb.

her hands press against the car door as he pounds into her, tracing circles on her clit, the car shaking with how hard he’s fucking her.

“this pussy belongs to me,” he breathes. “say it.”

“it’s yours, it’s yours,” she sighs, her words rushed, arching her back. she plays with her tits just for him to watch and he can’t look away, even if she is doing it just to make him groan, to make him come first.

“look at me,” he orders. she meets his eyes in the dim car and stares at him as he slams into her, rubbing her clit with perfect pressure, filling her over and over again. “you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

he knows praise always sends her over the edge. frustrated, she bites her lip.

“taking it so fucking good,” he rasps. “so fucking good.”

the sweet, sinful mix of his words, the sounds of him pounding into her and playing with her, the feeling of pressure and tightness becomes too much and she can’t control the wave of pleasure that washes over her.

she tightens around him again and he can’t hold back any longer, coming inside her while her walls flutter around him. their moans tangle together, filling the car with a loud, shared groan.

they’re a panting mess afterwards. he kisses her slowly, lazily, as they come down. once they find the strength to put their clothes back on and move to the front seats again, she stops the recording.

“i don’t even know who won,” she laughs breathily. “i guess we can check later.”

rafe is so weak that he can barely speak.

“i won,” he says.

she rolls her eyes and smooths down her hair.

they listen to the recording once he pulls up in front of her building to drop her off. they decide it’s a tie. mainly because hearing it turned them on all over again and they’d rather pretend to agree so that they can go up to her room and do it again.

[writingchalamet]

Angels Like You

This is part 1 of my new Bucky series, taking place just after FATWS, Sam and Bucky are visiting Sarah when they meet her neighbour Y/n, who happens to catch Bucky's eye, the rest you'll have to find out...

Slow burn, eventual smut.

2.4k words

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, mentions of graphic physical abuse, fluff, y/n has a child

Please do not read if you find these topics upsetting or triggering, my inbox is always open for any messages 🧡

Chapter 1

Bucky's ears tingled with the sound of Cass and Aj's voices echoing through the house as they played, along with the clatter of feet smacking against the wood floors and laughter. A smile crept its way to Bucky's face as himself and Sam walked down the drive to Sarah's house, upon hearing the chaos that ensued inside. The sun beamed down in golden streams lighting the path towards the house, that's when he saw her, sitting on the front lawn with Sarah, smile on her face, eyes gleaming and laughing along with something Sarah had said to her. He felt it instantly in his chest, his heart stopped for a minute.

"You okay, Cyborg?" Sam nudged his vibranium arm arching his brow in question. "Yeah, yeah sorry, thought I forgot my keys but we're good" Sam side eyed him but continued down the path to the house.

"Sam! Bucky! Hey! Kids your uncle Sam is here!" Sarah called out to the boys, rising from her seated position from the floor, her unknown companion says something about drinks and heads inside, not before turning her head and nodding towards the two men. "Hey baby sis" Sam engulfs her in a hug as the pair reach, her reply about not being a baby is muffled by Sam's chest which gains a laugh from Bucky. "How are you guys doing?" Bucky asks as they split, nodding his head towards the house.

"You know, we're good, busy as ever, the kids miss their uncle though" she nudges Sam. "Hey, not just anyone can be Captain America, think of the street cred those kids will get" Sarah and Bucky both roll their eyes scoffing in unison. "Anyway I have a question, who was your hot friend that was sitting with you?" Sam wiggled his eyebrows smirking looking back towards the house, where you could be seen in the kitchen window making a pitcher of lemonade.

"Sam! That's my friend Y/n, she lives next door, and she has a bakery in town" She sighed as she answered knowing she couldn't avoid the question. "Yeah, yeah okay, but is she single" Sam enquired rather pointedly. "Not for you, she's not, stay away Sam! I'm serious she got out of a real bad relationship and she doesn't want to date!" Bucky couldn't help but feel his own heart break a bit, he didn't know what was wrong with him, he hadn't even met you. Just as Sam was about respond, no doubt some witty comment about being the hero to sweep you off your feet, the sound of the front door opening interrupted them, Cass and AJ came out carrying a pitcher and glasses placing them on the outdoor table before pouncing towards their uncle and his friend. But Bucky couldn't keep his eyes off the front door as you emerged with a little boy attached to your hip, he pointed at the sky and muttered something as your pointed back a smile adorning your face as you approached the group.

"Hey" you breathed out as you reached everyone, standing next to Bucky, you couldn't help but feel judged as you felt his strong gaze unwavering on you and your son. You didn't know much about Bucky, just what Sarah had told you, the former Winter Solder turned good guy, born in 1917, Hydra captive then the Wakandans broke his trigger words or something like that. But why was he staring at you, was it because there was no apparent ring on your ring finger and you had a baby, you knew he was from a different time but surely he didn't think so outdated. "Hi, I'm Bucky" he extends his had to you, you shake it nervously, unwrapping one arm from your child to do so. "Y/n".

"Hi I'm Sam, and who's this little guy?" Sam gives you a wave, then tilts his head smiling at the boy in your arms, who buries his head in your chest at the sudden attention. "Oh this is Forrest, you gonna say hi baby" you tickle the babies belly erupting the sweetest giggle from him as he nuzzles further into your chest, "sorry he's shy around new people" you smile stroking his curls away from his eyes. "Aw just like you Bucky" Sam laughs which earns him a smack from Sarah. "How old is he" Bucky asks quietly, still not looking away from you, "He's one and half" this time you speak directly to Bucky turning more and meeting his eyes, it's then you realise the soft smile he wears across his face as he looks rather intently at you.

As you turn towards him, Bucky takes notice of your face, committing it to memory, he notes every line, freckle, the way your smile curves, the slight indentations in your cheeks as you do, the way your nose crinkles as you look at your son, how your eyes seem to brighten when you talk about him, then he notices a small scar on the side of your face above your eyebrow, how the jagged little line fades into the skin. He spots another faded scar like it on your hand as you continue to brush back the babes hair away from his face. Forrest points up to the sky and excitedly squeaks "bird" as one flies overhead. Bucky again couldn't help but make another mental note, this time of the way the baby who very much resembled his mother, and how his little face lit up at the sight.

"Oh well done Forrest, bird!" Sarah came forwards enthusiastically clapping her hands pointing to the sky. "Bird! Bird! brr brrr brrr-" Forrest continued to babble away to himself, pointing to the sky at the birds. "Bird was his first word, that's pretty much all he says besides mama and bye, he loves birds" you laugh bouncing him on your hip. "Oh Sam he'd love you in your bird costume!" Sarah jokes, Sam however who's eyes seem to pop out of their sockets at the comment does not find it funny, while Bucky laughs. "Costume! it's a suit, a suit that saves the world I'll have you know! bird costume.." he tuts kissing his teeth.

"Well I think your bird costume is cool uncle Sam" AJ pipes in. "Me too" Cass adds though is overlapped by a heavily frustrated Sam "-it's not a bird costume!! you know what, next time any of you guys need saving I'm leaving y'all to fend for yourselves. pfft bird costu-" his rant was cut short by Sarah "Well that's not true and you know it, you love me big brother, kids get in on this" Sam is soon bundled to the floor by Sarah and the kids piling on top of him all of them laughing harmoniously.

"Okay as much as I want to stay I have to get this little angel down for his nap, so I'll head back to mine, thanks for letting us play guys" You shout at the group hearing a faint 'okay love you' from Sarah under all the laughing. You turn to Bucky and smile, "It was nice to meet you Bucky, maybe see you again sometime" this time you extend your hand to him which he took in a heartbeat. Smoothing his thumb over the soft skin as he stands a little taller nodding. "Yeah it was great meeting you guys, bye Forrest" he turns his attention towards the tired toddler in your arms who sleepily lifts his hand giving Bucky a small wave goodbye, making the old mans heart skip a few beats. "Bye Bucky" you gently let your hand slip from his holding eye contact with him for just a few more seconds before daring to tare yourself away.

As you carry yourself down the driveway, one thing you were certain of. Bucky had made your heart melt in just a few small moments.

Bucky and Sam had been staying with Sarah for two nights now. The pair of them loving the 'uncle duties' as Sam liked to call it, playing with the kids while Sarah worked, showing them how to fly Redwing and dangling off Uncle Bucky trying to take him to the ground. Buck wouldn't admit it, but he secretly loved how the kids had taken to him so quickly. the thought of being a part of a family especially one with kids seemed so far out of reach, so he appreciated Sam for letting him join his. However, he did feel a tinge of disappointment over the fact that you had not been over to visit since the first day they had arrived. Sure, he had caught a glance of you cooking in your own kitchen window when they were on their way out yesterday afternoon, and sure you heard a commotion through your open window looking up in an instant hoping to catch a glimpse of a certain blue eyed beauty, eyes meeting for only a second before you had to tear them away to check your toddler wasn’t playing with knives or anything. Bucky again felt the small pang of rejection in his chest as you looked away just as quickly as you looked at him.

Over dinner that evening Bucky was surprised it was Sam that brought you up as a topic of conversation clearly reading the signals that he had wanted to know more about you without seeming nosy. “So, your friend Y/n” Sam suggested the topic after swallowing a mouthful of beer, finding the confidence, Bucky instantly perked up, waiting to see what Sarah would say. She only tilted her head to the side cocking an eyebrow. “What about her Sam” there was a brief pause, Sam looked between Sarah and Bucky, “You know, what’s her deal” he took another swig of his drink feeling slightly under pressure. The man could fight evil and not break a sweat but ask his sister a challenging question and the boy would crack. “Her deal is none of your business Sam” Sarah stated matter of factly. “Oh, common Sarah, we’re just curious” Sarah huffs and sits back in her seat looking between the two men. Bucky gives her a subtle nod letting her know it’s okay.

“If either of you say anything to her, I will beat you both senseless, got it!” she points across the table at both the men sitting next to each other. Bucky and Sam raise their hands in unison, the sight quite comical for Sarah.

“I told you she got out of a bad relationship, but I didn’t say how bad. She moved from Wyoming to get away from him, she was with him for years, he’d keep her locked in the house, put her in the hospital god knows how many times, but she was too terrified to press charges against him. Then she got pregnant and it got worse, she told me he said he was gonna kill her and the baby and she finally left while he was at work one day, got in the car and drove for a day straight until she got here, she didn’t know anyone, she was living out of her car, I let her stay at mine when I met her and found out what happened and got her in contact with her family again and they helped her buy her house and open her store, she used to have a café back in Wyoming before she met Matt, but he made her sell it, asshole. But anyway she has a restraining order against him but he keeps showing up here, we don’t know how he found out she lives down here, but he keeps coming and waiting for her outside her shop across the street and just stares at her, we don’t know if he lives in town now or if he just travels here to shake her down then goes back, but the guy is nuts.” Sarah’s chest felt heavy as she released the intel on her best friend, she couldn’t read the faces of her brother and Bucky, something distinguishable between disgust and regret of asking on Sams face but Bucky she could practically hear the gears turning in his Vibranium arm as he clenched his fist, nostrils flared and jaw tight, the man looked ready to fight.

“Have you guys not called the police about harassment” Bucky all but snarled. “Yeah, but they said they can’t do anything as he has never breached his restraining order, he’s not allowed within one hundred feet of her or Forrest and no contact is to be made, and so far he’s not done that, he’s never even met Forrest, I don’t think he’s ever seen him, he just sits on a wall in town opposite her shop, and the police say that’s not harmful and no means for arrest, or some shit like that I don’t know.” Sarah shook her head again at the thought.

“That’s bullshit” Bucky’s hand hit into the table with force causing the drinks to knock over and spill. Sarah let out a little yelp at the sudden boom of his voice. “Ah sorry” already picking up the classes and reaching for napkins and cleaning the mess. “Maybe we could hire her a bodyguard? What about Torres, I bet he’d love it!” Sam piped up again nodding to Bucky with a grin on his face. “She doesn’t need a baby sitter, what she needs is the police to do their job and arrest the creep who threatened her and her sons life multiple times but is still somehow walking around scott free” Sarah’s words seem to hit a nerve with Bucky, as he rises from the table storming towards the exit.

The thought of you in danger kept Bucky awake all night, not that he ever got much sleep anyway, but you and Forrest were keeping him up more than usual and he found it near maddening. Deciding to take things into his own hands the next day, he asked Sarah if you would be home, after finding out you would be in your Bakery he was very excited to pay you a visit, though that excitement soon turned to dread at the sight of a man having you pressed against the wall with his hands around your neck, while screaming in your face through the window of your shop. Matt had picked the wrong day to break his restraining order, and Bucky sure was happy of his saviour complex.

[323cutie]

i have sooo many thoughts abt seonghwa as a bf but recently i have been so smitten thinking about him in the beginning of a relationship ... like.

he is nothing less than interested. and he lets you know so easily. he spends the whole first date listening to you so intently, even if you're just talking about work or something mundane. not that he isn't willing to talk about himself, but -- he wants you to know he cares. between his listening skills at the table and the fact that he remembers what wine you like when the waiter asks you're already sold.

he gets you an uber that first night, spends the entire ride to your apartment turned towards you in the backseat. whatever you do, he mimics, lets you set the pace. you ask him how much you owe him for the ride, since he already covered dinner, and he tells you he'll send you a venmo request or something.

(he never does.)

he makes the uber driver wait until you text him to leave, just in case you couldn't get in or left something in the car. spends his whole half of the ride texting you, saying he had such a great time, he wants to see you again, you looked amazing. and you're just as eager!

the next date you're a little more comfortable with each other. and by the third, you feel like you're already together. he's a little teasing, but not in a weird way -- it's completely intentional, but it's little things. his leg brushing against yours on the train, hand on the small of your back for just a little too long after squeezing you both through a crowd, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips whenever you talk.

but instead of taking the train back home, you offer to walk. your apartment isn't too far, anyways. seonghwa agrees and on the walk home his knuckles keep brushing against yours, tenderly, briefly. he laughs at all your jokes and you walk a little slower to make it all last longer. he gives you his jacket when you shiver, doesn't even wait for you to say anything.

it rained while you were at dinner and all the lights of the city are reflecting off the puddles in the street, and it's so quiet somehow, not a single car driving by. and he walks you to your door and you both stand there for a moment but you look from his eyes to his lips and it's almost like he was waiting for you, for some sort of confirmation, because then he's taking a step closer, asking, "can i kiss you?"

and you wouldn't ever dream of saying no.

it's a slow, sweet kiss. intimate, just like him. and you're pressed against your front door and his hands are on your hips and you're about to invite him inside, some bullshit excuse about how it's still raining, but he stops you. he knows you both want it bad, but he's taking his time with you. so he kisses your lips one more time, then your cheeks, then your forehead, and then he's off.

(but idk, he probably sends you an audio message once he gets home, telling you he had a great time -- only because he didn't want to type it all out. not at all because he wants to tease you with his sleepy voice or the way he talks about how soft your lips were or the occasional groan as he settles into bed. not at all.)