#how fucked up is that??? and how fucked up would it be to read a 20000 word rain world essay comparing dog tumors to a fictional spider glo

[screampied]

☆ cw. fem! reader, husband nanami, cunnīlingus, praise, dirty talk, fįngering, secret freak nanami, hair pulling, mdni.

nanami’s always a gentleman - especially whenever he’s between your legs.

he’s the kind of guy who never forgets his manners. at least, he tries not to. as he’s sprawling both of your plushy thighs apart with a single hand, he’s bringing tender kiss after kiss toward your skin. “may i?” he’d breathlessly murmur as the tip of his nose merely brushes itself down your sopping core. browned, droopy eyes with enlarged pupils that were practically heart-shaped openly leered between the arc of your legs. he’s watching - studying you, silently admiring how your chest heaves up and down after each gasping breath. you’re impatient, so impatient, and a smile creases against his lips once you give a wordless yet needy response of ‘mhm.’

“ah, ah. words, sweetheart. kindly use ‘em for me,” he clicks his tongue, and you let off a sweet, shrilling whimper at the immediate feeling of nanami delicately blowing against your cunt. the cool air that set between your legs from his lips had you arching upward with your toes shamelessly already curling.

fuck.

nanami brought the pad of his thumb near your throbbing opening that was practically drooling before he gave it a teasing kiss. a tiny, popping squelch sobs straight from your sopping pussy and you whined, pouting once nanami licked near your nub before abruptly departing. as his lips hungrily pursed—he glanced back up at you before tilting his head. “oh, i know she’s wet,” he hums, averting his eyes toward your soddened folds before peeking back up at you. “but don’t just let her speak for you. i wanna hear my pretty wet wife too.”

besides his manners, nanami also loved another thing while being between your legs - wearing his reading glasses.

and oh, he just loved the pretty ‘lil whimpers that would slide past your quivering lips as the cold, squared lens would press against your pussy. every time - you’d fog up his glasses while you were uncontrollably rutting your hips against his face.

once he hears that cute, defeated, “p- pleaseee,” leave from your pouty, glittery lips, that’s all it took for nanami to finally dig in.

again, nanami kento’s always a gentleman.

on the other hand, his mouth.. his tongue though? a little more on the dirty side.

constantly - he’s just so hungry.

his lips were so quick at how they just cupped ‘round your nub, and you hear the beginning, loud sucks that echoed through each wall. the first sucks were always the loudest, and you’re gnawing on words that desperately - direly tried to leave your raw throat. instead, though, they just sound inaudible and you’re just whimpering the same repeated cacophonies of ‘kentoooo’ — ‘hngh-’ — or ‘fuck’ ‘s.

as your legs tremor within his firm hold, nanami starts to lave his sticky, pink tongue back ‘n forth until he eventually pried out those adorable squeals from you. he presses his face into your cunt, groaning once your legs mindlessly lock around his neck. “f- fuuuck, ‘ken, keep licking there- oh, my go- hngh-” and with teary, half-open eyes you stared as he’s jerking his head from side to side.

he’s like an animal - feasting between your thighs so viciously to the point where he sometimes forgets to even breathe.

“pretty please kento,” he adds for you, delving his tongue further inside your puffed slit before it swirls in a hypnotic direction. it goes ‘round ‘n round before stretching its way near your g-spot. that earns a small ‘ooh!’ from you as you squeeze your eyes shut. nanami’s tastebuds forevermore salivated for you, and he looked right up at you - pulling his syrupy lips away before swiping his thumb across the crack of his blushed lips. “talk to me, sweetheart.”

“hah- pretty, pretty … pleaseee kento,” you drag your words, letting off a sweet content ‘ah’ once you feel the tangled knot in your stomach unravel. his tongue was so sloppy, curling every which way between your folds before popping right back out. nanami grumbles against your pussy with his blond brows furrowed. the glimmering sleek that strings down his chin sticks against your thighs like constant dripping honey.

you tasted far sweeter than honey though - at least, in nanami’s opinion.

nanami relaxes his jaw — hearing your impatient, wanton cries for more before he gives the center of your cunt its nth kiss. “thaaat’s right- pretty please,” his voice lowers as he praises you, pitching deeper and deeper until he feels your cute ‘lil pulse in his mouth. nanami continued to lie on his chest, pushing the beige bridge of his reading glasses back with the tip of his middle finger. “mhm, such a perfect view,” he purred hoarsely, bringing two thick fingers to slide their way inside of you. he’s staring at your pussy closely, his vision seemingly even more clear after each blink.

within seconds, both digits end up disappearing, and internally, your tummy dips oh-so cutely. his fingers were stubby ‘n thick, making your toes curl even more as every minuscule inch prods into your wet core. as nanami’s tongue kept flicking against your sobbing slit, you’re letting off whine after whine. “heh.. this is probably my favorite chapter,” and as he speaks, your slick continued to fog up both lens of his glasses. “but ah- every great story comes to an end and you’re just about at your climax, right honey?”

“ ‘ken, kentooo-” you’d squeal, each babble of his name turning more breathless. your mind felt like it was just turning into mush. his tongue swirled its way around the spongy textures of your cunt as you felt both of his lengthy fingers pummel their way inside of you. by this point, it felt like you were just about to sink into the mattress.

you felt like you were being pulled in — he’s still maintaining a grip on one of your thighs, but fuck.

“ ‘m gonna … cum,” and as you spoke those long, awaited words, nanami meets your gaze. even a few glimpses of him between your thighs were enough to make you pulse at a rapid speed. his slick hair - it’s usually so well kept and neat or handsomely parted. now, it’s ruffled with blond strands sticking against his forehead with the help of his sweat. a hand of yours finds its way through his hair, roughly yanking near his soft roots. your eager tug at his hair was so hard that his nose is just tickling against your clit.

you felt a smile stretch across his lips as he’s still relishing in your fervor. you were right there … right fuckin’ there and at the brink of your very edge. from head to toe, your body felt like it was on fire - just sizzling with anticipation at a scorching temperature of a hundred degrees.

“c’mon then, sweetheart,” he throatily rasps, wetly pulling his twinned digits from your pussy. from top to bottom, you coated his fingers with your slick that had such a carnal-like shine to it. as his ruby, swollen lips kept latching against your folds, he grumbled at the arising friction in his slacks. “make a mess in my mouth, go on, pretty- give it t’ me please.”

“cum- ‘m cumming!” you’d shriek, chewing each high-pitched vowel and syllable that mewled from your lips. the pool that stirred into the inner depths of your stomach was finally at its peak. you slouch back in jubilant pleasure, loosening your grip on his fleecy strands as his tongue nibbles against your convulsing bud. your body’s just one single word - hot, and you felt like you’d just exploded right then and there. all nerves in your body violently erupt as you’re riding out your orgasm on his tongue with wobbly, numb legs.

the patterns of your breathing slowed significantly, and nanami whispered out husky, ‘thank you’ ‘s as his lips were trying to shower your dripping cunt with appreciation kisses. it’s almost sweet, in a racy way. the once steady beat of your heart felt like it was preparing to pound straight out of your chest, and you flopped your head back against the fluffed pillow that lay underneath you. nanami brings a hand toward your pussy, giving it a soft, praising pat.

your essence sloppily paints all against his palm and he flashes you a sheepish, pussy-drunk grin. “mhm, thank you, sweet girl,” and you honestly didn’t even know what he was thanking you for. ‘till the very end, nanami never forgot his manners, including at the moments where you’ve just drenched his entire face from nose to chin with your treacly slick. “and, hah- thank you,” his bleary, downcast eyes dart towards your slobbering pussy. from the hood of your clit to the very opening near the bottom, you’re soaked - cascading a pretty, wet stream of your shimmery wetness.

with a sticky ‘mwah,’ — nanami gives the center of your pussy its final concluding kiss, still hearing your shallow breaths from above as you’re trying to get over your overwhelming high. everything felt like it was spinning in circles, and the cold, glassy lens of nanami’s glasses pressing against your folds snapped you straight back into lewd reality. “think i’ll rate this book, five stars.”

and as you let off a surprised moan once he’s suddenly turning you over to lie on your back, you heard the familiar ‘zip’ of nanami’s slacks. breathily, he pants as he grinds his angry bulge against your bare cunt, sucking his teeth as you instinctively arched for him.

“fuck… sweetheart. think it’s time for the epilogue. now bend just a liiiittle more for kento, atta girl.”

[baepsays]

BE MY VALENTINE -`♡´- ⸻ JJK MEN x READER

description⊹♡ valentine's day with different jujustu kaisen men.

pairings⊹♡ Geto Suguru x reader, Nanami Kento x reader, Fushiguro Toji x reader, Kamo Choso x reader, Higuruma Hiromi x reader, Ryomen Sukuna x reader, Gojo Satoru x reader cw⊹♡ oral sex (m! receiving & f! receiving), face riding, grinding/dry humping, lot of dirty talk, uses of pet names, finger fucking, squirting, some spit action :3c, overstimulation, breeding kink, secret relationship, established relationships, degradation, mean name calling (i.e., slut), TEASING!, fem oriented reader in some scenarios, uses of fem pronouns in some scenarios,

a/n: playlist by yours truly, songs in order of each character. my valentine's gift to you guys <3 (let's hope there is not many mistakes i have not proof read half of it)

GETO SUGURU જ⁀➴ ♡ I'm tuned into that pussy, so don't touch the door

Having a musician for a boyfriend is hard. Especially when you're not really a public figure yourself. And it's harder during certain holidays to see each other, one of those days is valentine's day.

You almost lost all hope when all of the plans you two made started to fall short one by one. It wasn’t until at the end of the day, when you fully gave up on seeing Suguru, someone rang your doorbell. You were expecting the food ordered, and instead it was a huge figure clad in all black, mask and sunglasses on his face, and a hat covering his head. From afar— or up close really— it would seem like a burglar, but also what burglar rings the doorbell and patiently waits to be let in. But you've been in this situation before, so it was not surprising when the guy just picked you up on his shoulder and walked right in like it was his own apartment. 

“Goodness Sugu, give me a warning first.” you whined, despite the smile stretching on your face. “Wouldn’t be a surprise then sugar.” 

In a flash he dropped the bouquet, and bags filled with gifts, by the door. Then he threw his phone on the couch before walking into the bedroom. It always brought you to awe, having one of the biggest musicians and rockstars, stripping in your humble apartment. “At least eat and freshen up first.” you chuckled, leaning back up on your elbows, “You say that yet you are ogling me like a piece of meat.” he said with a half smile. 

“Gotta give you a banger before valentine’s day is over.” 

That’s how you ended up kneeling on the floor, sucking Suguru’s cock— despite his complaints. Yet here he was, throwing his head back in pleasure and shoving your head down on his cock. Suguru may not be a big moaner, but he is one to whine and a grunt. “Come on sugar, you can take more. I know you can.” Suguru tangled his fingers in your hair, scratching your scalp with one hand and pushing his cock down your throat by your neck. Drawing out little tears from the corner of your eyes. “Aw. my poor baby, can’t take more?” you hum with your lips touching the base of his cock, drool spilling and pooling around him, as you look up at him; praying the big doe eyes work on him to have some mercy on you. 

“You are going to disappoint me sugar? Hmm?” he pauses to let out a grunt then continues. “I snuck out of work for you, got you your favorite flowers and all those gifts, and you are telling me a few weeks away from me and your throat has forgotten my shape? You wound me.” 

So, to disprove his point, you use your occupied mouth to answer him— by putting one of your hands on his solid thighs and the other on his hard abdomen, almost finding comfort on his soft happy trail— and bobbing your head up and down on his dick. Which results in him throwing his head back with a really loud grunt this time, echoing through your walls. “Th-there goes— Hah— my superstar.” 

Suguru’s body starts recoiling, as one of his hands finds itself on the base of your throat, feeling the stretch of his cock going in and out of the tight canal. He slides one of his foot to rub your panty clad cunt, making you moan and whimper, as you take him out of your mouth to lick around and press your tongue on his tip, while you jerk him off with both of your hands. As you continue to grind on his leg, lick and pump his cock— he shoots ropes of cum all over your face and shoves himself back in your mouth to let you get a taste of the rest of it, heavy and twitching on your tongue. 

Just as you swallow his cum and he pulls you up to his lap, his phone starts ringing in your living room. Suguru continues to kiss you and suck around your neck, unbothered, because he knows it is from his manager. The phone keeps on ringing; one missed call, two missed calls, three missed calls—  on the fourth call, you shift to get off of him and get his phone. When he slams you down on your bed and pressed himself against you.

“Do not even dare to open that door.”

NANAMI KENTO જ⁀➴ ♡ he's taking me to cloud nine

Finding a man who genuinely wanted to be with you, these days, was not an easy task. If you're a person who wants to settle down with someone by 30, have kids by 32 and retire by 60—then you are bound to lose some hope after going on dates, ending up in situationships after situationships, and of course, getting ghosted. So, when you met Nanami Kento, it just felt too good to be true.

You met him through a mutual friend, as you were on a cafe date with your friend and he happened to be there as well. When she introduced you two, you still remember the tightening in your stomach and the shiver that ran down your spine, as he shook your hand. While you debated with yourself the entire day about asking your friend for his number—he texted you. And you just knew, if you had to put a number on it, he was a perfect ten (or maybe your standards have become too low after dating garbage men).

After the most perfect first date, he made sure to show you what a standard should be—way above the bare minimum. And everytime you would doubt yourself or the relationship the two of you started to foster, he would make sure to break down such doubts with vehement confidence that you were it for him. He made sure to tell you that he wants to be exclusive with you on the very first date, got you flowers every week, got you personally baked goods, had you over at his place for a home cooked meal, reassured you that if you did not want to do anything more than making out, then he would not ever mind that— he wanted to be with you on your terms, at the condition of having you all to himself. And you could not believe how you manifested him.

It has now been 1.5 months since you two became an item. And this valentine’s day you wanted to take the leap and have this man nail you down. 

It was the most picture perfect day, and at the end of it when he parked his car in front of your building, you made sure to drag him in with you. “Are you sure about this honey?” he sighed in your mouth, the grip of his arms getting tighter around your waist “more than sure Ken.” you said, as you dove back in to kiss him.

Nanami had you sprawled on your bed, one hand holding himself up to not crush you with his weight and the other pressing you further into the soft sheets by your waist. “I am asking this one last time sweetheart, are you sure? Because if we progress, it might be hard for me to hold back.” Nanami asked you with the most gentle tone, looking softly into your own clouded eyes, his forehead resting on yours— “I have never been more sure about anything in my life. Please Ken.” you whined as you pulled back on your lips, “just so you know, i might not be so gentle, but rest assured if you want to stop any moment, i would not hesitate to do so.” and you nodded along to him, i mean how could you have known an angel like Nanami Kento could be such a freak in the sheets— in his defense, he did warn you. 

Kento had both of your legs hanging on his shoulders, as his fingers dug and left a mark around your hips. Who knew Nanami was the guy to leave marks all over his significant other’s body, except places easily seen by others. “You there with me love?” he said with his face buried in the crook of your neck, voice hoarse from all that grunting he did on your cunt when he ate you out like you two did not have an excellent dinner just earlier. Probably also why you just laid there overstimulated out of your mind, to answer him with words. All you could fathom was a low hum, as he continued to thrust into you. Before this you’ve only felt his dick through his pants, and even then you knew he was hung; but having him in his sheer naked glory, nailing the shit out of you—as you wanted— you were perplexed how did he even fit himself inside you. 

“You need to use your words sweetheart.” he said with a mean thrust as he let one of his hands go from your waist to your head, holding your face up by the chin to look into his eyes. “Ca-can’t Ke-n” you mumbled somehow, while your vision started to lose focus. “Yes you can. Be a good girl for your Ken, and tell me what you want.” he demanded with each thrust closing down of your cervix, making you almost go numb. 

“Please Ken. harder. Your cock. more” you uttered somehow, arms tightening around his biceps.

“Filthy little mouth you’ve got on you honey, like your filthy pussy gripping onto me” he paused to get out a grunt “you hear her? She sure has been waiting for me huh?” Nanami said in a patronizing tone. 

You were in no condition to say anything more, as you vehemently twitched and frailed around under him, feeling the tip of his thick cock hitting your cervix at an tremendous speed and impact. “Want—god— me to make you cum love?” you somehow managed to  nod a yes, “Anything. Just anything and everything for you.”

And with those last words from Nanami, and one of his hand rubbing circles on your clit, you came undone around his cock. The waves of spasm and squelching noise between your bodies, drove him near his own climax as he continued to pump in and out of you through your release. He bottomed out for a second and flatly laid in your arms, letting your twitching legs down his legs and gathering your limb body in his arms. He kissed every feature on your face and whispered praises in your ears, as you got down the glowing high of your third orgasm of the night. Your eyes started to close, consciousness slowly drifting away, when Ken whispered in your ears—

“I must apologize, love, but I cannot let you sleep just yet. ” he pressed a soft kiss on the shell of your ear, as hips started moving again. “Your pretty cunt just got simply acquainted with me, I must leave a better impression on her, ”

FUSHIGURO TOJI જ⁀➴ ♡ just take what's yours, don't run from it

Imagine getting broken up with a week before valentine's week. Then doing overtime for the entire week, and having to go on a business trip with the coworker you cannot go a second without getting into a disagreement (sure let’s call it that). You were forced to spend the day before and the day of Valentine's Day doing work, but you were also thankful to be busy on the eve, otherwise you might have spent the day rotting on the couch and wallowing in your misery. 

And yet of all the people you couldn’t have guessed at the end of the business trip, Fushiguro Toji would take you out for dinner and pay for a meal. Apparently he made a reservation and everything, in a city he was not even familiar with. All that effort to comfort a coworker, he apparently did not even like, was a little unbelievable. Hence the question you asked was only valid, “why are you doing all of this?” 

“What do you mean doll? Just being nice to ya’.” he says as an easy smile stretches across his face. “You being nice to me is definitely strange.” you said suspiciously.

“I’m always nice, especially to you, doll. You're just always a bit paranoid.” He spoke while working on his plate. Surely this dinner meant nothing, it also meant nothing when he comforted you the day before on the flight, or when he bought your exact coffee order. I suppose it also meant nothing when you guys ended up making out on the cab ride home. Or how you ended up in his hotel room naked, on his bed, sitting in between his legs with your back facing him as his fingers went in and out of you. 

“T-there.” you somehow let out in between obscene moans. You have never had hands as huge as his quite literally ramming in and out of you. The girth and length of his finger, as well as the callousness made you question what was behind his underwear. 

“Here doll? Want me to go harder? Make ya’ cum?” you nod a weak yes to him. Unable to use the voice stuck in your throat, as his fingers started grinding themselves inside you, putting the right amount of pressure when needed and looking for the spongy walls behind your clit to drive you right where you needed to be. 

“Wah, that’s all ya’ need to cum? Hmm. that shitty ex of yours sure did not know how to handle all that huh?” he smirked against your neck as his other hand slid down, from where it found home on your tits, to rub constant circles on your clit. Right as he did so, your hand flew to his arm, clawing to either make him stop or make him keep going—he would not have it any other way. 

“You gon’ come on my fingers doll? Hmm? Get yourself wet enough to fit my cock in ya’ tight pussy?” he whispered in your ears as both of his hands continued working on you, his middle and ring finger found the spot inside your walls which made you jerk and whine. As you started to go practically jelly in his arms, he pushed past a third finger inside. “N-no, can,can not.” you pleaded to make him stop, mind and tongue going mush to say anything comprehensible. 

“If you can’t even take that much doll, how are ya’ gonna take my cock? ” he let out a little chuckle as you came undone around his fingers and lost the rest of your sanity when he landed his lips on yours to probably comfort you through the orgasm. 

“Let’s make sure ya’ forget that shitty guy.”

KAMO CHOSO જ⁀➴ ♡ don't hesitate, come into me

Dating Kamo Choso was a dream. You met him during college; he was the tatted up nerd who spoke to no one but the few people around him; a cliche really, who looks scary from a far but is a total softy. And no one knew that better than you of course (other than his brothers). 

So it has been really difficult being away from him, all the way in another city, pursuing your further education while he finally opened his tattoo shop he wanted to since forever. As happy as you were for him, to finally have his artistry being appreciated, you couldn't help but feel a bit salty—well it was not easy to own your own business. So you did not push him any further when he told you that he can not go make it to you on valentine’s. Initially the plan was for you to visit him back home, spend the morning with him and his brothers, get dinner with him and just well, it has been a while since you two did anything more than sexting—even phone sex has become hard to organize with how busy the schedules have been. So you were really excited about the lingerie you bought especially for him. 

At the end of the day when you strolled in your apartment building, hating on couples around you the entire day, salty about not having your own boyfriend near you— you were nothing but surprised to see standing there in the middle of your apartment; wearing an apron, and setting up the table with food he probably cooked. That was a sight you could get used to, you thought. And suddenly had tears streaming down your cheeks. It took Choso awhile to sit you on his lap on the couch, and comfort you, who knew you were that frustrated about everything. After you calmed down, you guys had dinner, which was simply amazing. And exchanged the gifts you got each other, seeing him open the wrapped up gifts you got him, made you realize how disappointed you would have been if you simply had to mail it to him. 

And when he opened the last gift, with black frilly and lace lingerie set; he went beat red. You took the set from his hands and stood up from where you were sitting on the bed, “Let me properly show you your gift baby.”

For a guy as sweet and soft, your boyfriend sure was a freak when it came to you. It was especially apparent when he had his face buried in between your thighs and hands gripping onto them, keeping them in place, practically smothering him—and he would not have it any other way—as he licked the juices coming from your pussy, through your panties. The pressure from his tongue and the rough texture from the panties adding onto the pleasure. “You are always so sweet, baby.” he hummed in between his licks.

Suddenly he started to shove his tongue and a finger inside you, through your panties. As he slightly pushed away part of the panties covering your clit to suck on it zealously.  “Cho. baby, please just. Omg” you went on, not making much sense of anything, simply aching to have him completely inside you. Have his shape reformed around your walls. “Won’t let me savour you a little while? Please?” he looked up at you, giving you big doe puppy eyes—his face was still partially covered by your thighs, and his tongue was flat on your clit. The sight alone could have a person faint, and here he was fingering you and simultaneously eating you out, through your pantues. The feeling of lace and sometimes his fingers or tongue scratching your walls, had you delirious. 

He pushed away the panties and finally used two fingers, to stretch you open, to slide his tongue inside you. With a blurry gaze and numb jaw, he ate you out like he was never getting the opportunity to do this again. Probably took a minute or so for him to have you squirt all over his face. When he came up from between your, now jelly, legs— his face was soaked in your juices, his eyeliner  all messed up and hair sticking to his eyes, which were also soaked. His gaze stayed stuck on your cunt as he opened his mouth to stick out his tongue and have some of his spit dribble on your pussy. To then go back in and clean it all up with big stripes of lick. 

“Come into me baby,  fill the empty spaces.” you mutter in a low barely audible voice, before he ripped your panties off you.

HIGURUMA HIROMI જ⁀➴ ♡ wanna try out some freaky positions?

Higuruma Hiromi is the perfect husband, within his capacity. He is a dedicated lawyer, an attentive father, a good friend to many and just very tired. So you don't hold special days over his head—after all he goes through to make your birthday, the kids' birthdays, and anniversaries special, it was the least you could do. Which meant valentine's day plans were left in your care.

And when after dinner you guys were making out on the bed, thankfully kids were sent to spend the day at grandparent’s place; Hiromi thought that the longer morning cuddle sesh, brunch, gifts and dinner was the end of it—but when he went to grab a hold of your ass to move you off from on top of him to under him, he was taken aback to find his hands bound to the headboard with pink fuzzy handcuffs.

“I suppose this is part of your gift, darling?” he let out a chuckle as he slid down to lay flat on the bed, completely giving up the reins to you.

With a faux innocent little smile you said—“Serving you punishment for being so irresistible.” “Sure darling.”

With that Higuruma had you bouncing on his cock. Even when it was only halfway in and already had you struggling, it made you question how you took him on the regular. You whined to Hiromi “So perfect Hiro, ugh. Help me out here.”

“I thought you wanted to do everything darling?” He smiled at you, probing at you. “Please. Please Hiromi.” With one snap of his hips, the entirety of his cock was inside you. And within a moment Hiromi’s hands were freed from the flimsy decorative handcuffs. The very next moment his hands were on your hips, as held you down on his lap. He had you sit there pretty, as he did all the work to snap his cock in and out of you at a speed you could not achieve by yourself.

His cock kissed your cervix again and again as if it would almost penetrate through the canal and go straight into your womb. He had every intention of making a third little Higuruma tonight, as he filled your walls with his seed. As he slipped out of you, you laid completely flat on top of him, out of all the energy you thought you had.

And after a quick rest Higuruma maneuvered you to sit on right on top of his face, holding you down to his nose and mouth by your hips, neglecting all your protests in fear of suffocating him. At the end of the day he was well aware of your love for his nose, and he was never afraid to use it to shower you in affection.

“Goodness Hiro, you are- can y- ah.” You stuttered when his tongue shoved the cum dripping from your cunt further in, making sure no droplet was left behind. So that you take every speck of his seed and bury it in your womb. All the while licking around the entrance to clean up any leftover cum, giving little kitten licks of comfort to your clit.

“What? I thought we have tried freakier positions.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA જ⁀➴ ♡ like this pussy designed for you

Sukuna was not one to be excited for festivities, especially valentine's day. He believes it is definitely a scam. And yet when you get all dejected about not having any plans with him for the day, he reluctantly tells you to clear your schedule and takes the entire leap. He plans the day so thoroughly and to every last detail, you wouldn't be able to tell if he didn't have any experience in this area.

I'm talking breakfast in bed, gifts, whatever you've eyed in the last couple of days. Flowers and chocolates, dinner at a Michelin star restaurant, a hotel room with a heart shaped bed, rose petals scattered all over it, dimmed lights, candles and all—as cliche as it was, you deeply appreciated all of it. 

Especially how the silk sheet felt on your naked body, and how your body felt when you felt Sukuna’s pulsating tip ramming itself up to your cervix. Or how the silk sheets sliped right out of your hands as you held onto it for your dear life. How your entire body was slipping out of his grasp. 

“Stop running from me brat.” He held up your legs tightly to his chest, securing you so you'd not slip up from the sheer impact of the pressure he was putting onto your hips.

“You liked your valentine’s day?” He bent down to move his face closer to your ears, folding your body in the process. “YES. YES.” you shouted, to answer his question or to his cock hitting you in the right places—not apparent.

“Yeah. Let me give it to you good, hmm?” He lifted off your hips from the bed and git on his knees to alter the position slightly, and reach your inside at an angel he didn't before. The thrusts of his hips sent literal shocks and shivers through your body. One of his tatted up arms, curled itself around your ass and lifted off of it to come back down, to place a glass shattering smack. Which was surely going to leave behind a mark. Sukuna was not one to be afraid of leaving marks anyway. The marks of his teeth and purple bruises scattered all over the expanse of your body was witness to that testimony.

He changed the position to then simply wrap your legs around his hips, to move over you and plummet his cock in you at a harder and rougher pace. “Give it to me kuna. All of it.” The pleading was going straight from his head to his dick. “Yeah? Want me to shoot all up in this nasty little cunt? Hmm.” The emphasis of each word was highlighted with the thrust of his hips. “Make my pretty slut’s pussy is made just for me. Right?” 

“Custom made.” He chuckles at that reply, before shoving his face in the crook of your neck and cumming in loads right inside of your cunt, which seems to have molded itself around him so well it's impossible for him to move.

Yet he manages to take his cock out mid orgasm, to then cum all over your stomach. With the last drop of cum squeezed out of him, he rubbed the cum gliding around your stomach, all over your tits. And then took the same hand to shove the leaking cum back inside your walls. 

“Don’t you look the nicest with my cum on you, brat?”

GOJO SATORU જ⁀➴ ♡ let me show how to use your legs

No one could beat Gojo Satoru’s valentine's game. He starts with the 7th and honestly the endless shower of gifts, flowers, hugs, and kisses never really stop. 

So when on the 14th he wakes you up way too early in the morning and makes you spend the entire day out, a little suspicion does arise. Because who is gojo Satoru if not a morning cuddle (& sex) fiend? But you don't think too hard about what he might be getting in your apartment as you two roam around different cafes and shops. 

The answer was mirrors. When you came home at the end of the day, you were glad to not find anything out of place, so you just straight up asked him about it. And to answer your question, he simply led you to your bedroom and when you didn't find anything new anywhere, he came to stand behind you and lifted up your chin with two fingers to look up at the ceiling.

Where the image of your and your boyfriend's reflection, reflected back at you. 

“Mirror sex but better sweets, happy valentine's day.”

You were on top of Satoru, riding him into the dawn, as he stared at your figure going up and down in his cock; into the mirrors above you two. Your head was thrown back, facing upwards, which made things better for him. His tongue was out of his mouth, panting like a pavlovian dog, at the sight of your tits bouncing. 

“Turn around angel. Lemme do the rest.” He turned you to have your back face him, while he sat up to make you bite on your earlobe and thrust his hips up. 

Even with his hips gyrating through your walls at a precise and familiar, but oddly more rougher, pace—his eyes were only focused on your reflection. Sitting right on top of him, one of your hands tangled up in his hair and the other on his hand which was running over your clit. The reflection in the mirror had a similar o-shaped open mouth on, with your head thrown back on his shoulder and body completely melting into his. Your chest heaving up at a more rushed pace, making your tits bounce along them.

“Aren’t you just so glad your perfect boyfriend gave you another perfect valentine's day? Hmm.” His tongue slid around the dents in your ear, “god I am getting a house made of mirrors and fucking you all over it.” 

“That.i-is simply so, so, i- impractical, toru.” The moans and whimpers kind of choked in your throat with the loss of breath, over his hips denting up your cervix. “Hmmm. Then I guess this will do, for now.” 

He laid back down on the bed with your body still on top of him, the entirety of your naked glory,reflecting back in the mirror. The shape of his reddened cock sliding in and out of your glistening pussy, the entrance of your cunt eagerly swallowing him in, and your clit all puffy and swollen, in between in fingers—he is burning the entire thing in his retina. 

“Look at you sweets. Could put the entire porn industry to shame.” He got a hold of your face, making you look up at your own reflection— leaning into his body, and getting railed into beyond by his cock. His blue eyes were practically glowing and staring right back at you with hooded eyes, hungry for more than what he's already been served. And it was enough to make you come undone on Satoru. Gushing around his dick, splatter of your cum going here and there with his constantly moving hips. And Satoru was more than satisfied with his purchase to have introduced him to the new wonderful sights of your body. 

“Let's hope you're well hydrated, you'll be needing it, sweets.”

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

highkey i wanna know everyone's faves cause i do not think these were very 'omg yay valentine's day' trope of me.

tag list: @madamechrissy @cuntphoric @cuntyji @aishi-toru @arcanarix @naomigojo @gojosperms @rriwyu @indiewritesxoxo @sys-oa-main @undercvrfan444 @ineedbetterhobbies0809

A/n: header from Yamada-kun to Lv999 no Koi wo Suru and dividers by @/cafekitsune & @/strangergraphics-archive. putting out something nasty before high school gojo which is just fluff and pining (it's killing me). choso one got really nasty ahem (insane about my babyboy). musician geto comeback as promised, he is going to be a reoccurring character on my blog me thinks, but what would ik :p not like i have any control over my writings or blog

sorry but i have been feeling like shit since exams ended and doing the last week of my internship.

!!!TMI TIME!!!

me when i got myself all hot and bothered writing about musician geto and thought it wouldn't happen again for the rest of them (it happened again):

had to take breaks in between all of them to gather myself. i want these men so bad it's honestly not funny. hope you guys had fun reading, no idea if i did a good job writing down what i pictured in my head.

[homunculus-argument]

Sometimes I wonder how some people on tumblr manage to operate in daily life. Like do they go to the store, pick up a box of green hair dye, read the text on the back saying "if your hair is dark, we recommend bleaching it before using this product!" and then go "um well excuse me, what if I like having dark hair?? Why would I even want gross bleach-fried green hair instead??" and become outraged by such fucked up thing to say, because the green hair dye box failed to clarify that this advice only applies to the people who want to achieve green hair. Do not buy this green hair dye unless you want to dye your hair green.

[wriokitty]

Sukuna is not good at apologizing.

And you? You’re not good at letting go of grudges. The end result is a pretty nasty predicament—you’re mad at him, he’s mad that you’re mad at him, and you’re mad that he’s mad that you’re mad at him. It’s a full circle. The start point and the end point meet and you just don’t know where to begin.

He could always apologize, of course—that would be a lovely start. But he won’t. (He really should, though, you think. It’s his fault).

“Hey,” he says gruffly, “scoot over. ‘S my side.”

You’re taking up the entire bed. A petty, childish, and last resort sort of method to keep him away from you for the night because you don’t think you can handle dealing with him in such close proximity. And of course, you certainly won’t be taking the couch, so that naturally leaves only one option: him.

“Hey. Did’ya hear me?” He scowls, looking at you with deeply creased, deeply furrowed brows and an intense glare that makes you want to throw a pillow at his face. You refrain, however—but only because someone has to be the emotionally intelligent one of the two of you, and it certainly won’t be him. “I said move over—I’m tired as fuck and I wanna sleep.”

“Then sleep,” comes your unhelpful reply.

“They teach you this in the first grade,” he smiles thinly, eyes narrowed into slits as he gives you a sarcastic look, “but you actually have to lay down to sleep. Can’t do that if you hog the entire damn bed.”

“I’m sure they taught you what a couch was in first grade, too,” you counter—and as if to double down on your juvenile, stubborn display of spitefulness, you angle your body to take up more of his side of the bed. “Go ahead and use that if you wanna lay down so bad.”

“And they also teach you in first grade that the couch is bad for your damn fucking back, so move the fuck—”

You cut him off sharply with a rather snobby tone. “That’s not in the first grade curriculum. I don’t know what first grade you went to, but maybe that would explain some of the loose screws in your head.”

He’s had enough. Sukuna is not good at apologizing. And on most days, he’s not that good at being a boyfriend, either. Not by the general standards, anyway. He doesn’t say sweet words or coddle you very much. Sometimes, he’s awkward about affection and doesn’t quite know how to initiate physical touch. And, on most days, he can’t communicate his feelings properly, so they tend to come out wrong. Typically, that manifests in rough, unintentionally harsh words.

He’s not proud of it, but it’s not a switch he can exactly flip off in one day.

But one thing he is good at, however, is worming his way into your soft spot, anyway. It’s a very peculiar, very distinct part of you that for some unknown reason, opens up for him and puts up with his bullshit regardless of what that bullshit is. Fifty percent soft, sweet affection, and one hundred percent stupid, foolish devotion.

He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

He debates it for a moment—because sometimes even Sukuna doesn’t dare test your limits—before he ultimately decides to go for whatever plan he’s scheming. It turns out his plan involves all two-hundred-something pounds of his bulky, muscled figure draping itself over your body with an exaggerated sigh from him. You flinch, gasping in shock, and he simply gets himself comfortable.

Sukuna is not good at apologizing.

Yet, somehow, he’s even worse at reading the room, evidently. You clearly don’t want him near you, but here he is, arguably closer to you now than he is on the average night.

“Sukuna!” You hiss, trying to push him off as you grumble under his weight, “get off! You asshole, you’re too heavy for—”

“Heavy?” He gasps, “this is considered body negativity.”

“Oh fuck off,” you scowl, “you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what, exactly?” He asks smugly.

Despite it all, there’s something surprisingly gentle about the way he lays on you. His head is perfectly situated to rest against your collarbone, his hands delicately have your hips in their hold, and half of his body is slotted between your legs to keep a good brunt of his weight off of you.

More than anything, he’s a weighted blanket than he is an aggravating boyfriend that you’re trying to avoid.

“Is everything a joke to you?” You glare.

He glares back. Equally as hard, equally as intense, but infinitely more infatuated underneath it all. “No,” he grumbles, “just don’t like goin’ to bed mad. So ‘m here whether you like it or not.”

Some part of you can’t help but soften at that. A small, fractional, tiny amount of you thinks…oh. Oh.

(And yes, there are certainly better ways to express: I would like to go to bed without being mad at each other because I love you too much, but he’s not perfect. Nowhere near it. That much is a known fact quite abundantly by now. But you know what he means, and in you’re being honest with yourself…well, it’s enough.

He’s always enough, even when he seems like he shouldn’t be.)

“I’m still mad at you,” you grumble stubbornly.

Your arms wrap around him tightly.

“And I’m still fuckin’ tired and sleepy. What’s your point?”

He tucks his head into the crook of your neck and inhales your scent.

You’re mad at Sukuna. And he’s tired of it. Sometimes, he���s not good at apologizing, and sometimes you’re stubborn about accepting it. In the end, your limbs tangle in bed like this, anyway. You think that’s the only part that really matters.

You sigh, pulling up the blanket to cover yourselves. (Mainly you. He just happens to be there, too, of course. But this isn’t for his warmth, too—it’s just for yours. How cold he is or isn’t through the night is of no concern to you.)

“Night,” he mumbles quietly after some time, “and…and sorry, or whatever. I…well, I just…you know?”

You snort softly at his attempt, giving in and letting your fingers weave into his soft, familiar strands of hair while he relaxes at the feeling.

“We’ll talk in the morning. I love you.”

He smiles a little into your neck. It’s barely-there, but it undoubtedly exists.

“Love you too.”

“A lot, right?” You ask cheekily.

It’s quiet for a moment. You think he’s going to tell you to shut up, or just go to sleep, already. Instead, there’s a hushed mumble of, “yeah. A lot. Now goodnight.”

(You fall asleep rather quickly after that—and admittedly, much easier than you would have if his body was on the couch and not with you.)

Cliche fights before bed that end with a begrudging petty cuddle sesh are my guilty pleasure. My crack if you will

[tjelestial]

Pick A Lana:

Your Person's Fantasies of You 18+

PAC: Your Person's Fantasies of You 18+

☆ How to choose your pile: Take a deep breath, hold it for a sec - exhale slowly through your mouth. Close your eyes and focus on the question. Once you're ready, take a look at the number and choose the pile you feel drawn to.

If you feel called by more than one pile, there might be more messages for you.

Remember: This is a general reading, therefore I'd be picking up messages for collective audience. Take only what resonates and leave what doesn’t. May you find your message!

PILE 1

Hi Pile 1, welcome to your reading! Okay, right of the bat Pile 1, your person is giving ✨possessive✨ I just heard “You’re mine.” Damn. It’s the ultimate "I own you, and you own me" energy. There’s no in-between, just a raw, unshakable pull between you two. It’s almost obsessive, the way their body craves yours, the way their mind keeps coming back to thoughts of you, even when they try to focus on work and other things.

They fantasize about taking their time with you, making you beg before they finally give you what you want. I heard “arguing is foreplay”. It’s the kind of connection where even your arguments hold heat—one second you’re challenging them, the next, they’ve got you against the wall, their mouth on yours, hands gripping tight because they can’t keep their hands off you. Your body is like a prize they’ve won, and they’re going to worship every inch of it. For some of you, your person don’t shy from PDA and they like to show you off.

You’re someone who set high standards for yourself and actually put in the work to meet them. Whether it’s in your career, social circle, or relationships, you exude the energy of someone who knows their worth. For some of you, I’m getting IxTP/xxFJ vibes.

Your person is a provider. I almost thought it’s giving sugar daddy vibes, with how much they spoil you materialistically. But there’s this insecurity within them. Maybe they think you’re too good to be true? Maybe it’s fear of losing you? Maybe you shine so bright? But they don’t want to let you go. And in the heat of it all? They can’t resist you. They want to fuck the insecurity out of their system, to make you scream their name until they know you’re theirs in every way possible.

They love taking you from behind too, it’s one of their fantasies, gripping your waist, pulling your hair against them because they need to feel all of you. They’re possessive with their hands, their touches—palm against your throat, choking (consensually), fingers tangled in your hair, nails digging into your hips. They don’t just want to make love to you; they want to mark you with hickies, claim you, make sure you remember exactly who’s fucking you so good.

They love the way you let them take control, but they also love it when you push back—when you straddle them, pin them down, show them that you know exactly what you’re doing, it drives them crazy. They want to own you, but at the same time, you own them just as much. And they’ll make damn sure you never forget that.

For some of you, there’s also cuddle/spooning fantasy going on. They want to hold you tight after, in that sweet afterglow. But even while they’re holding you, their hands are gonna wander, teasing, exploring. Honestly they just can’t help it 🤷‍♀️

PILE 2

Oh, now this is the seductress irresistible pile. Your person? They don’t just want you—they ache for you, in a way that borders on desperation. What did you do to them Pile 2 🥵Your person hates how much control you have over them, but at the same time, they wouldn’t have it any other way.

They can’t stand it when you play with them, when you act all innocent, when you act like you don’t know exactly what you do to them. But you do know. You’re giving that "Who, me? I would never officer..." energy while knowing damn well you’re driving them insane. It’s not outright teasing, it’s subtle. You don’t have to try to be alluring; it’s just who you are. You don’t deny anything outright, but you never fully give in right away either. It’s that delicate push-and-pull that drives your person up the wall.

And you love it. You love making them work for it, love seeing them lose their composure, love the way their hands shake slightly when they finally get to touch you after being deprived.

It’s no brainer that they fantasize about you driving them insane—about you dragging things out, taking your time, leaving them with pent up frustration. But once they snap? Once they’ve had enough? That’s when they lose control, that’s when they take you the way they’ve been day dreaming about. Bending you against the nearest surface, with their hands gripping your waist. Spanking you, punishing you. They love to see you squirm, love to see you struggling to keep up with them, love the way your body arches against theirs, silently pleading for more.

Before I continue, if you feel drawn to Pile 1, that’s because there might be a message for you there.

For some of you, your person is obsessed with your mouth—there’s something unique about it. Could be your lips is pouty, or it’s unusually red, could be it has hyperpigmentation on the outer lips so it looks like you have lip liner on, could be the shape is plump and full, or it’s just that you have a smart mouth. Whatever it is, they just can’t get enough. The way your lips part, the way they run their fingers around it—it’s intoxicating. They’ll kiss you like they’re starved.

They like to see you. Mirror sex might be present. So they can take in every shift of your expression, every little gasp and whimper that escapes your lips. They want you to see exactly what they do to you, want you to watch the way your body moves against theirs, want you to witness the complete mess they turn you into.

PILE 3

Ah, Pile 3, your person is craving that deep emotional and physical connection—this isn’t just about lust, your person wants to make love to you. This pile got me listening to Make Love to You by Boys II Men and All My Life by Kci and Jojo. Your person is very passionate, loving and tender.

You are the indulgence they can never resist. You feel like a luxury, like a hidden treasure or something rare. They fantasize about giving you everything, pampering you with the finest things, worshipping you with their hands and touches. They want to be the only one who gets to see you like this—laid out for them, body relaxed, eyes hazy with pleasure as they take their time with you. The way you respond to them, the way your body shivers under their touch, the way you take all that they give you—it’s maddening for them.

They also fantasize about being taken care of and indulging in pure sensuality—slow, lingering touches, bodies tangled in sheets. There’s whispered praises, there’s physical craving—running hands over warm skin, feeling soft lips, savoring the connection fully. They also dream of devotion, they want you to crave them, to cherish them, to treat them like something precious and irreplaceable. Your person might have Leo/Aries in their big 3.

They fantasize about being wanted and wanting you so badly that restraint is impossible for both of you. The moment when all that confidence, all that dominance, turns into need. Because as much as they want to own you, as much as they want to be the one in charge, you have a way of turning the tables. They think they’re the one running the show, but then you touch them just right, whisper something sinful in their ear, look at them with those eyes, and suddenly, they’re the one falling apart.

They don’t even realize how much power you have over them until it’s too late. Until they’re groaning your name, gripping you tight like you’re the only thing keeping them grounded. Until they’re letting you do whatever you want to them because, fuck, they need it. They need you. It’s rare for them to lose control like this, but with you? You pull it out of them effortlessly. They fantasize about you taking from them—taking your pleasure, pushing them to the edge over and over until they’re left breathless and completely wrecked.

It’s not just the sex, though. It’s the connection. They want all of you, body and soul. That’s why they never stop at just one round. Even after the fire dies down, they’ll hold you close, fingers trailing lazily over your skin, pressing soft kisses to your temple. Because for them, this isn’t just lust. This is everything. And Pile 3 they’ll never get enough of you.

PILE 4

Welcome to your reading Pile 4! Your person fantasy carries a heavy emotional undercurrent, it’s not just about physical desire but something deeper, unspoken, and possibly even unresolved. There’s a sense of longing, nostalgia, and emotional intensity, as if their thoughts about you are tangled between wanting, missing, and aching for something far away or unattainable. This is more than just fantasy; there’s something real and deep about the way they think you. For some of you, this person could be an ex.

Your person’s fantasies might be tinged with frustration or a sense of emotional distance. They want you, but something always feels just out of reach. They imagine scenarios where they try to get your attention, but you’re so detached—which only makes them crave you more. There could also be a desire for an unexpected, intense moment that breaks through the emotional barriers.

Now if this is an ex, for them, you’re the one that got away. The one they can’t forget, the one they can’t let go of, no matter how much time passes. Their fantasy isn’t just about having you—it’s about getting you back. About fixing what was broken, about proving to you that no one else will ever know your body the way they do. Because no matter how much they try to move on, no one feels like you. No one haunts them the way you do.

For the action, they fantasized about a night where the past no longer matters, where it’s just you and them, tangled together in sheets that smells like longing. No more distance, no more hesitation. Just raw, unfiltered need. Their feelings go beyond just sex —they want to reclaim you. To remind you, through every slow drag of their fingers, every deep, desperate thrust, exactly who they are to you. They want to see it in your eyes—the way your walls crumble, the way you give in to what’s always been there between you.

You could undo them with just a single touch. And they know it. That’s why, when they have you under them, all soft gasps and breathy moans, they take their time. This isn’t just about pleasure—it’s about proving a point. That no one else will ever make you feel like this. That no one else will ever know you the way they do.

They love how your body trembles when they push—push you to the edge, push you to need them just as much as they need you. You’re so familiar, yet somehow, every touch feels brand new. And it has them consumed, you have them mad.

There’s a strong nostalgic, bittersweet and sentimental quality to their thoughts. They might fantasize about reuniting, rekindling an old spark, or returning to a time when things felt easier. There’s also a sweet yet intense craving for deep emotional intimacy, wanting to feel truly connected, known, and seen by you.

[tangerineastronaut]

can you do how they would be when your pregnant ot8

ATEEZ during your pregnancy ❤︎ ot8

Pairing: ot8 headcanons Genre: fluff, mentions of smut Requested: Yes w.c. 2.5k Warnings: pregnancy discussion, talk, sexual bits (not a whole lot of smut I promise) A/N: This took a surprisingly long amount of time I'm sorry!! I'm not sure if you meant ateez or not, I assumed so since that's what I've been posting recently. If not please send me an ask and I will do this for another group! Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

Taglist: @baby-stay92 @cozypaint If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please DM me or click here.

🔞Content Below the Break🔞

Hongjoong

The absolute worst (best)

Scolds you for "doing too much" aka walking up the stairs or picking up a gallon of milk.

Buys you the most expensive brand of prenatal vitamins despite your doctor insisting the cheap ones are fine

Checks on you via text every hour when he's not with you

^ and when he is with you

Is lowkey afraid of failure as a father, reads parenting articles

Sends you decaf coffee at work

Wants to feel your belly but won't unless you invite him to

Teary eyed when he feels the baby kick for the first time

Sampled the heartbeat at the ultrasound visit to use in a song

Writes letters to you and the baby and keeps them in a memory book for you to read later (but you don't know this)

Nursery is fully decked out and the baby already has a full wardrobe

Your crying makes him panic, he hates seeing you cry and will frantically try to soothe you every time

Is grossed out by your cravings but will get them for you anyway—why do you have to crave vegetables?

Sex is soft and lazy in the best way

Side sex (think sunday morning sex except any day) >>>

Like imagine his chest against your back, his cheek against yours, one of his hands keeping your leg up so he has room to fuck you, asking if it feels good and if you're comfortable, except he's kind of whining and breathless ~

No pregnancy kink but thinks you're breathtaking, as always

^ even when you haven't showered, your legs are hairy, etc. He thinks you're a work of art

Plays music for you and the baby, asks what he/she responds to and makes note of it

Overprotective, does not like it when people touch you in general, let alone when you're pregnant

Visibly dies inside every time someone's hand goes to your belly without asking you first—would scold people if you'd let him

Posts photos of you each month documenting your pregnancy and leaving a words of appreciation for you

Keeps a copy of the ultrasound photo with him

May not have his hands on you 24/7, but he makes sure you know you're loved as well as the baby

Seonghwa

So freaking soft for you both

Loves babies anyway but your baby??

Him leaning against the headboard so you can lean against him, he'll curl his arms around you and rub your belly while you talk

Talks to the baby, even when you're asleep

"I can feel you kicking in there. Let's let mommy sleep, hm? She gets cranky at daddy when she's tired."

Watches parenting videos

Loves showering with you since you can't take baths

When you joke that there's not much room anymore he'll say he knows that and pulls you closer

Shaves your legs for you when it gets too difficult, even if you're too shy to ask him

Buys you gifts every time he gets something for the baby

"The mom group says it's important for me to make you feel as loved and wanted as the baby."

^ has joined mom groups on social media, because "dad groups are just full of men complaining"

Calls him/her 'the little one'

"How are you? How was the little one today?"

Isn't overprotective but has moments when he hovers

You don't mind

Sex is always slow and full of giggles and him reassuring you when you're out of breath

He likes you on your back so he can kiss you and keep pressure off of you, arms on either side of you to support his weight

Likes taking naps with you even though you're always napping due to exhaustion

^ rarely actually sleeps, just wants to be near you and the baby

Knows your cravings by heart

"Pickle juice and french fries? That's a new one."

His nesting is as bad as yours if not worse; you both frantically clean the house months before the baby arrives

Loves when you send him selfies/belly pics

Isn't fazed by your emotions, helps you work through them and validates you

"Being pregnant doesn't mean you aren't allowed to have feelings, pretty girl. I'm here."

Yunho

Probably the most excited externally

Loves rubbing your belly and watching the baby kick his hand

Unironically purchased the "I'm proof daddy doesn't play video games all the time" onesie

Brings you ice cream even if you don't ask for it

"I'm telepathically linked with our baby, he/she said they want ice cream. I don't make the rules, y/n."

p r e g n a n c y k i n k

"Look at you, so fucking pretty and full."

Sex is unbelievably gentle despite his filthy words

Won't put you on your back, likes to have you in his lap so he can do all the work

Likes taking you out and showing you off, even when you feel like a mess

Posts pictures of you constantly to the point where people joke he's running a y/n maternity account

Foot rubs

Sympathy pains

"Our heartburn is bad today. I want a cinnamon roll. With sprinkles."

Teases you relentlessly

"I'll race you to the kitchen—oh yeah."

Handsy af but you don't mind

Walks up behind you to hold your belly

Sits up at night to rub it when the baby won't settle

He/she loves Yunho's voice and they begin kicking when he speaks

^ he uses this to his advantage

"Mommy's calling herself ugly again, I'm gonna need some backup from my internal ally."

Already 2 v 1 and the thing isn't even here yet

His google search history is worse than yours

^ "can pregnant women eat carrots"

"how long does pregnancy really last"

"how to make pregnant woman stop crying"

"why is my pregnant girlfriend crying"

"why am I crying"

"how to stop crying when your pregnant girlfriend cries"

Loves when people ooh and awe over you; beams and grins like an idiot bc you're his and he put the baby in you.

Yeosang

Seems calm

Is not calm

Is just as protective/concerned as Hongjoong but is so quiet about it you don't even notice

You haven't lifted a grocery bag since he found out about your pregnancy

Has the dates of your appointments memorized

No one touches the belly. He doesn't even say anything to anyone. They just don't.

Does little things to make sure you're extra comfortable, bought you a pregnancy pillow

Whispers to your belly

^ "I'm afraid my voice will scare the baby. I'll just whisper."

Pouts if the baby won't kick for him

You: "Please, Yeosang, for the millionth time fetuses cannot choose favorites! Our baby loves you, I promise!"

King of pregnancy cravings

2 a.m. runs to the convenience store because you want some strawberry milk

Forehead kisses with a hand on your belly >>>

Will literally get on his knees for a chat with him/her

Like imagine looking down and seeing this man smiling up at you, both hands on your tummy with so much love in his eyes I just—

His calm facade dissolves when you cry

It physically hurts him to see you break down and he will do all he can to help you

Talks about you nonstop and your symptoms, experiences, etc literally to anyone with ears

Signs you both up for a parenting class

Cannot believe how horny you are, but is happy to help

^ a little afraid of you tbh but still very much in love

Like Hongjoong, prefers side sex so he can still be close to you

Also loves foreplay/eating you out even more now because of how sensitive you are

Ultrasound visits/pics make him choked up though he tries to hide it

His brain has not processed the fact that his baby is literally inside of you

It isn't going to fully sink in until there's a baby in his arms

^ is never going to put him/her down

San

Proud Dad™

Is excited, but calm

Similar to Yeosang but not as intense

^ still protective, but doesn't mind when people touch your belly as long as they ask first

Buys two copies of baby books for you both to read at the same time

Posts pictures of your pregnancy journey with quotes or long paragraphs about how beautiful you are

lowkey pregnancy kink?

Cautious

Armchair sex/you in his lap - super slow and soft

Loves showering with you after to hold you and massage your back/shoulders

Doesn't necessarily treat you like you'll break but is still very gentle with you

Hugs are softer, he doesn't squeeze as tight, likes to hug you from behind and look over you to see what you're doing

Touches your belly in a reassuring way, likes to brush his hand against it and feel the baby's reaction

Does it in public probably the most of the members, though it's not really intentional

His hands used to go to your waist and now they go to your bump ~

Doesn't talk to the baby as much as he sings to him/her

Is way too excited to take maternity photos

Gets caught staring at you by literally everyone

Does not care

Thinks you hung the stars

Loooooves being snuggled in bed with you with your bump between you, rubbing your belly and whispering as though the baby is sleeping

Is very expressive about his fears/doubts and wants you to be as well

Blushes when people call him daddy

Blushes harder when you call him daddy

Pretty calm when it comes to your emotions, will just go with the flow and give you what you need, whether that's space, affection, or food

secretly hopes you want another one

Mingi

When I tell you this man is terrified

Does not think he can care for a baby despite your reassurance

Asks all the questions

"I mean, how do we know when it's done? You know, like, cooked all the way?"

Oddly protective despite his fears

Does not like anyone touching your belly

Any time someone comments on your size/roundness/etc he's ready to throw hands, does not care if it's the ajumma two doors down from you

You: "Mingi for the love of god, I have told you, you cannot threaten people."

"She threatened you first!"

You: "She just said I look ready to pop??"

Horny af and has a pregnancy kink but will not initiate sex

You have to beg, and even then it's like ~

"No I mean just stand there, and I'll hold you and put it in. Yeah don't move at all."

Will still eat you out daily

Treats you like a glass doll

Belly kisses >>>>>

Buys baby books, gets one page in and declares this is too much to remember and you both should get a refund

^ shrugs at your look of horror "obviously I meant a refund for the books..."

Raps??? at your belly? Like nursery rhyme raps????

Also talks. A lot. Not cooing or baby talk

"Today at practice I slipped and it sucked, kinda hurt my knee. I'm still a good dancer, definitely better than Yunho. I'll show you. But I mean like after you can walk and stuff, or maybe you'll dance before you can walk and we can win money or something. Do they have baby dance competitions?"

Doesn't post the pictures he takes of you and your belly, looks at them when he misses you and won't let anyone else see them

Unironically refers to himself as your baby daddy and changes his contact in your phone [proudly]

When you cry, he cries, so please don't cry

Asks if he can attend his own child's birth

^ is excited when you say "...yes, Mingi. You can attend the birth of our child."

Wooyoung

Knows all there is to know about babies??

Is not concerned at all

Reassures you constantly

You ask him questions

Will lay on your thighs and absentmindedly rub your belly while watching tv or scrolling on his phone

Actually, will rub your belly anywhere, and usually does it without realizing it

Refers to you as mama and himself as dada even out of context

"Do you want a drink, mama?"

Is completely unfazed by your weird cravings and will get them for you as long as it's not harmful

"No, y/n, you cannot have sushi with your oreos. Mercury levels..."

Not overprotective in the slightest

Your biggest advocate

The only member who would fuck you properly while pregnant, as he knows it's safe within reason

Does not have a pregnancy kink, but loves how sensitive you are, the changes to your body, etc and thinks you're a goddess

Loves going shopping with you

Will absolutely argue with you over nursery themes

Finds you adorable when you're emotional, but will still try to calm you down and comfort you

Loves talking about you nonstop

May not praise you to your face as much as the others but tells everyone else he's so incredibly lucky to have you as the mother of his child

He was so clingy before

It's worse

His camera roll is full of selfies with him and your bump

Imagine woo making bunny ears over your belly (and telling your unborn child to say cheese)

Has full on conversations with him/her

Baby talks and coos and informs them they have the best parents ever

Jongho

Probably the most genuinely calm member when it comes to your pregnancy

Still very excited

Does not know as much as wooyoung but is fairly confident, not terrified or anxious like some of the others

Touches your belly from day 1, even without a bump

Sings and hums to it

The baby LOVES his voice and always kicks when he's near

He finds this adorable and loves talking to him/her while touching your stomach

Massages >>>>

Your pregnancy aches are afraid of him

Is a little shaken by your emotions but handles them well

Not too overprotective but really hates it when people touch you

Won't say anything though unless you're uncomfy

Sex?

Dear god

2ho breeding/pregnancy kink is my headcanon and I am sticking with it

Do not make eye contact for more than a few seconds

Is unbelievably horny for you

Doggy style with pillows underneath you >>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Is extra gentle despite how badly he wants you

Takes care of you first also ^ he knows it helps you relax so that's always his end goal

Loves the way you look while pregnant

Thinks you're beautiful anyway but something about the fact that you're literally creating a brand new human being

When you wear his t-shirts and nothing else because your clothes don't fit anymore it makes him melt ~

^ he complains for the fun of it but would probably cry if you stopped

Brings you snacks/drinks/whatever without you having to ask

Is willing to try your cravings with you as long as it's nothing vile (frito chips + peanut butter)

Wants to do every social media pregnancy trend with you

*buys your unborn child soccer cleats*

Doesn't post photos of you often but when he does, they're tearjerkers

Wants more kids but knows how difficult pregnancy/motherhood is so ultimately it's up to you

He's the cutest - kissing your temple while snuggling on the couch and rubbing your belly

"Our baby bear"

[ivyvenus333]

a/n: kuna is mean and calls reader pathetic and a brat and maybe a slut, idk this isn't proof read. lol. also take a shot every time i use italics. shout out @madamechrissy for turning me into a sukuna girl<3

fuck buddy!sukuna who lays with his hands behind his head and that stupid fucking smirk on his face as you ride him relentlessly. it was pathetic, the way you kept coming back to him even though he’d never put his hands on you. his tongue, his fingers, sure. but when it came to fucking, you were the one doing the work. he was so depraved, getting off on how desperate you were to fuck someone who wouldn’t even touch you.

he knew that he was such an asshole for getting harder at the sight of your legs trembling – at seeing you in pain. you were such a good girl for refusing to slow down despite the obvious burn. but he would never tell you that.

“tch, you’re so fucking pathetic. is that really all you got?” he mocked, trying so so hard to sound unbothered. but the way your pretty pussy split open around his fat cock every time you slammed your hips down was killing him. the way you leaked down his length every time you slid back up destroyed him even more.

“did you fucking hear me, brat?” he growled at your lack of response, nothing but intoxicating moans leaving your mouth.

“m’sorry i’m trying, fuck i’m trying so hard. please, sukuna.”

“please, what? use your fucking words.”

“want you to fuck me. please help, oh my god, please.”

god, he had never heard you so fucked out. so fucked out that you would admit to wanting, to needing, his help. it made his cock throb, causing the sweetest noise to escape your lips as he swelled inside you. and that was enough for him to finally wrap his arms around you and pull you flush against his muscular chest, your body immediately going limp.

planting his feet flat on the bed, he started fucking up into you with abandon. the tip of his meanly curved cock repeatedly slamming into your cervix. his hands frantically trailed up and down your back, finally exploring your skin. you felt so fucking soft, so smooth under his rough, calloused fingers.

“is this what you wanted? huh, you fucking slut?” he spat, words so fucking harsh and in stark contrast to how he truly felt about you. he was so stupid for not doing this sooner.

“yes, fuck yes- m’gonna cum. so deep, fucking me so fast, ‘kuna” you moaned into his neck.

he hated what you did to him –a supposed “fuck boy” who lost it at your stupid fucking nickname for him.

“don’t call me that you fucking brat” is what he wanted to say – what got caught in his throat when he felt his stomach tightening, his abs flexing against your stomach.

gripping your ass hard enough to bruise, sukuna pulled your hips as close against his as he possibly could. a string of fucks and shit spilling out of his mouth as he shot his load so deep inside of you, the two of you cumming together. it was so cute, how your pliant body convulsed around him.

lifting yourself up slightly, your arms framed his face and you nuzzled your nose against his.

you were so fucking cute.

“what the fuck are you doing?”

“mmm, nothing. you just felt so good ‘kuuna. been waiting for you to touch me,” you whispered, breath ghosting his face.

“get the fuck off of me, woman,” he huffed, but his words were meaningless as he pulled you back down against him. the supposed “fuck boy” pressing soft kisses into your hair. god, he was so embarrassingly whipped and wrapped around your finger.

[artemisiasmuse]

rafe cameron x sweet virgin!reader

she told you she celibate but she told me I can nail her shit

cw: mdni 18+, virgin!reader but has some other experience, lowkey a freak tho, toxic rafe, corruption kink : >, size kink, first times, rafe goes a lil crazy, sweetie pie reader x insane yandere bf rafe is lowkey my favorite trope

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves <3 i didn’t read this over and i’m so sorry if there’s hella mistakes i will fix it later! this may or not be self-insert yes even that part

the trouble all began with sarah cameron and her big mouth. well really both of you were to blame, but you’d think she would be quieter when her older brother was lurking around. you were older than her by a few years, closer to his age than hers, not that it mattered though, rafe treated you like you were practically wheezie’s age. you didn’t let it sting you any more you had long gotten over trying to be seen as a woman in rafe cameron’s eyes. or maybe you just stopped watching him, he’s always noticed you but you felt out reach, until now. when he overhears his sister’s words he almost breaks the glass of water he’s holding.

“a virgin at 19 looking like you do is insane” sarah looked you up and down as you tried on the dress you’d bought together at the mall. you got shy at her words, you knew she wasn’t judging you but instead genuinely in disbelief that men weren’t throwing themselves at you. you had long mastered the art of looking unapproachable and uninterested after too many bad experiences.

“stoppp is it so hard to believe, you know how bad it’s been for me?” he really hopes no one sees him leaning against the wall next to his sister’s door, he’d look like such a weirdo. wheezie would never let him live this down, she’d barely held back on letting his little crush slip before. if sarah ever found out he’d be in another hell.

“fuck you’re right, if they can’t make you come what’s the point?” rafe winced at his sister’s words, willing away the temptation to gag. he was trying to focus on the fact that no guy had made you come before instead.

“you’re awful, but i’m done with men for a long time. im gonna focus on college and not waste time on them.” he relished in the twisted feeling that no one could touch you, even if the losers before had a chance they clearly couldn’t cut it.

“righttt being in a dorm filled with horny guys is gonna make that easier.” sarah deadpanned and you shoved her, seeing her point. you hadn’t thought about it like that.

“okay leave me alone i’ve been successful so far”

“oh my god speak of the devil, john b’s calling me over, can you cover for me? i’ll be back in like two hours max, promise.” you were a little disappointed she was leaving you but you knew how difficult it was for her to see him without someone covering for her. you nodded and pulled out your phone.

“fine but i’m ordering pizza,” rafe didn’t know if he should be terrified or elated that you two would be home alone for two hours. why did it have to be today that the rest of his family fucked off? was this divine intervention?

“save me a slice!” rafe could hear his sister rustling around, getting ready to go, so he did the same.

“you’re gonna be too busy eating di-“ rafe promptly ran off at that. he’d heard enough, his imagination would run wild with this new information.

it was half an hour later when, like clockwork, rafe made sure to be near the front door for the pizza delivery. he paid and tipped the guy, while you were making your way down at the sound of the doorbell. he hurries back upstairs, nearly running into you on the stairs. your eyes trace his pretty features and then land on the box in his hands, shock and horror cascading your face. rafe can’t believe that you look so good even now, you’re wearing a crop top with seemingly no bra underneath and high waisted sweatpants. to him you look like a model.

“hey! that’s my pizza” rafe laughs and continues up the stairs, you turn on your heel and follow him up. you’re kinda hangry and your pizza being held hostage is not helping your mood.

“i just paid for it so i don’t think so.” you both reach the top of the stairs but rafe isn’t stopping, he’s going to his room instead. this won’t do, he’ll lock the door and slam it in your face, you quickly move to stand in front of him blocking the path to his doorway. rafe thinks it’s cute that you think that would stop him, he feels a bit stir crazy over how small you look gazing up at him

“i’ll pay you back!” your hands shoot up against the doorframe, blocking entry even further. he wants to tease you a bit more but the idea of sharing a pizza in his room is way more tempting.

“nah it’s fine just let me have some.” you release your blockade and let him move past you, still with his-your pizza in his hold, following him mindlessly. if you were less hungry you would’ve realized eating pizza with your longtime crush and best friend’s brother in his room sitting on his bed was in fact not a great idea. but that fleeting concern is out the window when he opens the box and you climb onto his bed like it’s second nature. rafe does his best to stay concentrated on the present, it’s difficult when your shirt rides up and a sliver of your stomach is displayed, it looks so soft and untouched and he really isn’t hungry for pizza, he never was.

“i was gonna offer anyways for the record.” you say it while picking up a slice and rafe mirrors your action, laughing at your tone.

“yeah sure you were princess,” you ignore the way his voice sounds, the way he says your name, the way his room smells like him and it’s making your head spin.

rafe watches you eat transfixed when you lick the tips of your fingers, he can’t believe that he’s struggling to control himself over pizza but your words are ringing in his head.

“rafe do you have any napkins?” you hold up your greasy fingers and he nods his head dazedly, getting up to grab some for you and taking the pizza box off his bed with him. you move to get off then, looking around his room, you knew he wouldn’t appreciate if you snooped through his things so you just look at the pictures on the wall, the books he has. rafe finds you standing near his desk when he comes back, wordlessly handing you the napkins.

“i always forget you have a motorcycle.” your head motions towards the helmet resting on the surface of his desk.

“i don’t use it as much now.” he leaned back against the footboard of his bed, arms crossed against his chest as he watched you look at his stuff. he couldn’t figure out why you were still in his room, were you that curious?

“can i ride it? i’ve always wanted to try.” yeah rafe might just pass out now. you don’t even know what you’re doing to him, head cocked to the side looking at him so innocently he can barely hold back much longer.

“sure but i gotta teach you the basics so you don’t crash.” rafe is proud of himself for even stringing a sentence together in response. you notice a slight flush to his cheeks and ears.

“okay that’s fair.” you turn towards him, mirroring his form and leaning back against his desk. there’s a few feet between you but rafe thinks it would be so easy to lift you onto the mahogany and kiss you until you can’t breathe. his shorts feel so restrictive and he’s grateful he’s wearing black. he can’t hold back any longer, he has to know.

"is it true?" the words come out rushed, unsure of if they should even be said in the first place. but rafe’s not a quitter and he doesn’t shy away from anything really, even if the past few hours feel like a dream he would have in middle school.

"is what true?" your head does that thing again like a puppy and he nearly keels over, you’re too adorable for your own good. his gaze flits away for a second, he has to commit. your trusting expression and your airy tone make it all the more hard.

"no guy's made you come before?" you blink in shock twice before covering your face with your hands. this must be the most embarrassing moment of your life.

"ugh you heard that?"

"yeah you guys aren't exactly quiet" you might have to kill sarah cameron in her sleep, if she even comes back that is. you don’t know why you answer him, you could have just ran away but the magnetic pull of rafe cameron coaxes you to answer.

"yeah it's true" you sound defeated and rafe has to hold back a snicker, he watches you peer through your fingers at him, watching his expression.

"well i can rectify that..you know for the sake of mankind and all" there’s a smirk on his lips as he says the words that will haunt you forever. you’re sure he’s just messing with you and you huff a breath of disbelief. did he know about your little crush? you’d been hiding it so well for the past few years!

"don't tease me, rafe" you step away from his desk, moving to leave his room. even if it was just the two of you in the house you’d much rather sit in sarah’s room or watch the tv than be ridiculed.

"i'm not, it'd be a shame if a pretty girl like you gave up on men, especially for me." it’s almost as if someone dumped a bucket of cold water on your head when rafe cameron speaks. pretty girl the first time he’s called you anything that might suggest you’re not just his sister’s friend. the world spins on its axis and you try to grasp onto his words, try to understand that he might be genuine but you can’t. there’s still that voice of doubt telling you he’s just messing with you. rafe watches your expression go from shock to disappointment, you don’t believe him. he supposes it’s not that believable when he’s been purposefully avoiding you for a while. you must think he’s just messing with you, but he’s dead serious. he’ll just have to prove it.

“whatever rafe i don’t have time for your games.” you mumble it and leave his room, slamming the door a bit harder than you intended. the next few hours are torture. rafe cameron planted an insidious weed in your mind and it’s growing exponentially.

of course it’s not the first time you’ve imagined it, you’d often thought about what his long thick fingers would feel like. or how his biceps would feel under your hands if you held onto them for support. you’d fantasized about every part of him, even the tip of his nose. so the idea that it might just be within your reach had you spiraling. you took a cold shower, not that it helped, your underwear was still soaked after. no guy you’d been with had made you so wet, let alone before even touching you. it was as if the universe was testing you. a sick thrum in your body had found its way into your bones, vibrating with need and you paced in your best friend’s room thinking over all the consequences.

when you’d reached the conclusion that even if he was sincere it was still a bad idea, your phone pinged. a text from sarah that read: “i’m gonna be staying the night here, if you’re already asleep i’ll see you in the morning 🤍” with all your internal turmoil you hadn’t realized it was past the two hours she’d said. she would be out all night. you and rafe were home alone, all night. you swallowed down the lump in your throat, your heart pounding your chest. your feet were moving faster than your head, the pitter patter of your footsteps almost as fast as your heartbeat, and before you knew it you were in front of his door. you hesitated for a second breathing in deep once before knocking, the light was still on so you knew he was awake.

“yeah?” rafe did his best to hide the satisfaction he felt seeing you twitchy and shy in front of his door. you swallowed down again, looking up at him with as much confidence as you could. there was a few seconds of silence, he gave you the time you needed, looking down at you with bright inviting eyes.

“is your offer still on the table?” his face split into a grin, moving aside to let you in like you’d done before and with no hesitation you pushed past him. even the small graze of your shoulder against him set his skin ablaze. he was going to lose his mind.

“‘doesn’t really have an expiration date.” your mind was blanking at his every advance, you tried not to think about his words, you couldn’t afford to fall deeper for him.

“just don’t like tell anyone about this?” you murmured, watching him close the door behind you two and getting a bit nervous. if sarah found out you’d be in for hell. losing your virginity to your best friend’s brother wasn’t exactly a great conversation to have.

“i’m not topper don’t worry.” you believed him, rafe despite his other faults, was always respectful.

“can i kiss you?” you nodded fervently, rafe held back a laugh at your enthusiasm. he walked up to you slowly as if giving you the chance to run and slid his hands from his hips to the curve of your waist. you stood on your tiptoes, your arms going around his neck and rafe couldn’t believe this was real. maybe if he pretended it was a dream he wouldn’t be so nervous. he’d have to do just that. one of his hands cupped your face, thumb stroking along your cheekbone and your eyelashes fluttered closed at the touch. he pressed a tentative kiss to your lips.

his lips felt soft and you breathed out in relief after, as if some sort of spell was lifted. rafe kissed you again, this time letting himself breathe you in. you felt so small and delicate in his hold, he wanted to take his time with you. you had other ideas. kissing rafe cameron felt even better than you’d imagined, when he pulled back you surged forward this time, biting his lower lip making him groan into your mouth. another chill of desire wracked your body at the sound and you tested the waters by licking the seem of his lips. rafe pulled you even closer and bent down to kiss you deeper. his mouth opened and his tongue met yours. you tasted so good to him he couldn’t stop himself from sucking on your tongue slightly, making you whine in his hold. the sound flipped a switch in his mind, he wanted more of the sound, he needed to hear you say his name in that airy desperate sound again. a string of saliva connected your lips and snapped off in the middle, your breathing was heavy and his was too. you caught your breath all the while looking up at him, he held your gaze transfixed. the furrow of your brows grew deeper the longer you looked.

“we don’t have to do anything else.” him asking for consent again drew in another crushing wave of arousal, you were a lost cause. okay maybe your standards were in hell. even his cologne was better than any other guy, something woodsy and heavy, mature, not like the shitty ones you’d had to smell before.

“no-no i want to,” he’d have to ask you later why you looked so mad after kissing him, right now he had too much else to do. you could only watch as he lifted you by the grip on your waist, your legs going around his hips in fear of falling. he’d done it so casually you couldn’t process it in time. rafe set you down gently on his mattress, his weight pressed into you and your legs tightened around him. he kissed you again, already missing the taste of your lips, and leaned back. you realized what he was about to do as he sat back on his knees.

“no i-can you just come up here?” you felt far too shy for him to eat you out and although rafe respected your wishes he was a bit disappointed. he’d just have to make sure there was a next time. there were other ways to taste you anyways. he followed your lead, leaning back over you and kissing you again, tongue and teeth clashing together in need. one of his hands moved from your waist up and under the hem of your shirt, traveling up slowly until he reached the fat of your breast. the feeling of his fingers on your nipple jolted your body. usually you didn’t get anything out of a guy touching your boobs but him you were arching into his touch, huffing into his mouth. rafe loved how sensitive you were, reacting to every touch of his. he massaged the tit in his hand, reveling in how you squirmed underneath him. if you kept moving you’d feel how painfully hard he was in his shorts.

after giving up on kissing you he peeled off your crop top, trailing kisses down your neck. he bit at the skin and sucked, surely littering your neck with hickies. you smelled so sweet to him and he couldn’t get enough, biting hard in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. you squeaked at the feeling, shocked at how pleasure blurred the lines of the pain you should be feeling. being marked by rafe was transcendental.

“look at you, so fucking pretty.” you met his gaze, his eyes raking down your chest and back to your face. the compliment made your head even cloudier, you’d let him do anything he wanted already, and it didn’t even scare you. his mouth trailed lower, biting at the tops of your breasts before latching onto your nipple and sucking, biting and laving over the sensitive nub with his tongue. you writhed under him, desperate for some friction between your legs. you huffed out a breath in frustration. he took his time bruising your chest with his marks. everyone should know who you belonged to. he leaned back to admire his work, his eyes finally meeting yours and seeing your waterline filled with unshed tears. god he was being so cruel, you just wanted to come and here he was doing as he pleased.

“rafe can i have you fingers please?” he was about to take pity on you anyway but the desperate sound of you begging was too delicious to give up. he looped his fingers through yours, hands intertwined against the silk sheets next to your shoulder.

“fuuckkk when you ask like that how can i say no?” his eyes nearly rolled back in his head from your voice, he might just come from it alone. “how d’ya want them?” he knew, of course he knew, he just wanted to hear you say it. your lips were swollen from his kisses and you still managed to look so innocent under him, he wanted to mark every inch of your body so no one could touch you again.

“you know!” you huffed out, a pout on your lips that he kissed away, you still looked at him with frustration. your underwear was practically sticking to you now, you felt so warm and uncomfortable between your legs, desperate for friction. you’d never felt like this before, completely wrecked with need, unable to think about anything besides addressing your desire.

“spell it out for me, i can’t think clearly right now.” he kissed under your ear coaxing you into submission, a purr curled through you at the feeling. his lips were featherlight against you, soft and adoring and you couldn’t remember why you were holding back.

“‘wan you to fuck me with them.” it was a small mumble, slipping past your lips but rafe caught it nevertheless. his free hand hooked into your pants and pulled them down, you kicked them off and let him settle back between your legs. at least being out of your pants gave your legs some reprieve but the cool air only illuminated how drenched your underwear was. rafe’s large hand skimmed past your breasts to your stomach and rested against your waistband. he looked to you for admission and you nodded your head. instead of dipping underneath the band he trailed downwards, over the flimsy material. the ghost of his touch near your clit had you jerking under him, your hands flying to his shoulders. two large fingers pressed against the fabric, right above your opening, his fingers felt moist and he clicked his tongue at the feeling.

“baby you soaked through your panties, whose got you so worked up?” you whined, a pretty throaty sound that you’d been holding in and he vowed to pull more from you. his fingers were skimming along your opening, teasing the fabric and not quite touching you. your legs wanted to close on his hand but your hips moved closer, trying to make him touch you.

“you!” you screamed out, eyes squeezed shut as he removed his hand completely. you’d start leaking through them if he didn’t do something soon.

“that’s right me, not those fucking losers, just me.” his free hand, closed around your chin making you open your eyes and meet his. he looked crazed, pupils blown and overshadowing the blue with hooded eyes and a satisfied grin curling his lips. when you met his gaze he finally dipped his fingers beneath the band and pressed his thumb against your clit. he found it with such ease your eyes rolled back into your skull, gasping at the feeling of finally being touched. “i got you baby,” your legs spread wider for him, pulling him into you as his fingers slid through your drooling folds all the while his thumb ground against you. his fingers were so much larger than yours you could feel him everywhere. he prodded your hole with his index finger, grunting at how tight you were. streams of arousal kept pouring out of you, you needed him to do something. you squirmed under him again and rafe acquiesced, shoving his finger in. you were so tight and warm around him, slippery and soft walls hugged him as he stretched you out with one finger alone. “f-fucking tight,” he was gonna start soiling his shorts from the way you felt around his finger alone. he fucked you slow and deep, feeling along your insides for your sensitivity. he knew as soon as he found it because you screamed his name, hands clutching his arms tightly.

“feels weird,” he let you get used to the feeling, his thumb grinding against your clit. you were already feeling close and he’d barely started.

“poor pussy probably never felt this good huh?” you whimpered at his words, he was being so filthy and usually it turned you off. nothing about rafe could do that at this point. you shook your head, affirming his suspicions and his middle finger circled your opening. he was gentler this time, moving his fingers in inch by inch until you stopped clamping down. the pressure of him stretching you wasn’t unbearable but you didn’t know how you’d ever take more than his fingers at this rate. he accurately hammered against that spot, out for blood, while his thumb circled your clit. you were dripping onto his hand, coating him with your juices and the squelch of his fingers fucking into you filled the room. the sounds were so obscene you tried blocking them out with your pathetic little whines but rafe was determined to hear your soppy cunt crying for him. it wasn’t long before you felt the encroaching of your release and he knew it he could feel it in the way you clenched around him and whined when his fingers pulled out completely. one more carress of the sensitive gummy spot inside you had you seeing white. your vision blurred as you shook in your release, holding his wrist so he’d stop his motions, shivers wracked your body as you came the hardest you ever had. your walls fluttered around him, more of your release dripping down your cunt and soaking the sheets below. he was sick enough to leave them like that for the night, you smelled so sweet and he bet you tasted even better.

his fingers dipped out of your underwear and your eyes opened to watch him, probably a mistake on your part because just the vision of rafe cameron licking his fingers clean and groaning at the taste made you ready to go again. his eyes rolled back in his head at the taste, his eyes ground shut at the sugary flavor coating his tongue and teeth. he really hoped you’d let him have more later because now that he’d had a taste he wanted the full meal. you shivered at the way he reacted, your whole body on high alert from your orgasm, but even as sensitive as you were you couldn’t help but be greedy.

“rafe, can we go further?” his heart might just give out, you look nervous even now after he’s already addicted. he moves back slightly, pulling his shirt over his head and your eyes are drawn to his chest.

“never thought you’d ask.” you’re not even trying to hide how you ogle him, seeing him at the beach is one thing but in front of you, when you can touch him is another. rafe watches you reach a hand out, slightly out of range and moves closer to you, letting you touch him. your smalls hands traverse the expanse of his shoulders, his pecs, and trace the outline of his abs. when they reach the tuft of hair above his waistband, rafe has to stop you. the tiny fleeting touches make him twitch in his pants. he moves your hand to rest against his shoulder, pulling your underwear all the way off and looking down at how he completely drowns your body out.

“fuckkk can’t believe im the lucky one who gets to break this little pussy in,” he kisses along your neck, hands squeezing your waist and marveling at how diminutive you feel. he can’t wait to be inside you, he wonders if you’ll even be able to take him.

“s-so dirty” his words are heating up your entire body and you’d feel embarrassed if you weren’t arching into him. rafe moves to pull down his shorts, waiting a beat before he does.

“you sure you want this?” while taking your virginity was something he could only dream about before he needed to be sure.

“yes i want it to be you, i trust you.” you say it as normally as you can.

“we can stop whenever you want, like i said ‘offer’s not gonna expire.” you hope you can take it up even after this, maybe not even once or twice. if he could make you feel like this why would you need anyone else? then he goons his shorts off and you were starting to regret your decision.

“oh-is th-that gonna fit?” his cock sprung out and slapped against his stomach, long and thick and way too big for you. you could barely take his fingers this would never fit. it looked so angry white precum dribbling down stark against the flushed pink curling along the veins and curving with him to the right. you wouldn’t survive this.

“you’ll do your best right?” you nod enthusiastically, you wanted to take as much as you could. “good girl.” oh, you’d have to explore that later. you nearly moaned at him calling you that. rafe caught it though, he knew your reactions well by now. he lined it up over your stomach, seeing how far it would go and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. your belly button was completely covered, not that it mattered he was halfway up your torso. rafe’s grip on your waist tightened, he’d ruin you for anyone else, stretch you out and mold you just for him. no one would feel as good as him and he nearly drooled at the sight.

despite how feral he felt, he made sure you were still wet enough for him to slip in, you were. his tip pressed against you, he let you drool onto him, juices swirling with his and making a sick plap plap plap sound as he tapped against you. he’s far wider than his fingers and you tried to relax. you motioned for him to come closer, his lips out of reach and you kissed him sweetly. when he could feel you relax he pushed in, instantly being shoved out. so tight he couldn’t even get the tip in. “fuuckkkk gonna have to marry you.” you don’t even process his words and he doesn’t really know he’s saying them out loud either. he tries again, pulling you slightly onto his length and you gasp at the stretch. your gripping him like a vice and it’s nearly uncomfortable but being inside you breaks something inside of him and he’s drooling into your mouth. you don’t even care you want more. “doin well angel, taking me so well.”

the pain is an afterthought now, you want him to stretch you and fill you until you can’t breathe. you don’t know if you’ve wanted anything more in your life. so you do the unthinkable, you try moving down his length. rafe can’t be held responsible for his actions after that.

he gives into your silent plea, skewering you in his cock and pushing past your gooey rings of resistance until he’s halfway in. you held your breath the entire time as he curved into you, tip smearing precum along your walls as he molded you to him, his veins catching on your entrance. you push at his chest, the pain making you scream his name as he lets you adjust. there’s tears trailing down your cheek that he licks away and kisses you until the ache between your legs becomes distant. rafe makes the mistake of looking down, sees the way you’re gaping for him and how it looks like he’s splitting you in half and bottoms out. the snap of his hips against yours makes you moan, he’s filled you up now and you can feel him in your throat. you swear you feel him get bigger when you whine his name pathetically, his dick twitching inside you.

it’s too much and you try running from it, shoving up the length of the bed but rafe just pulls you back down. “t-too big hng can’t-“

“come on i thought you were-fuck-a big girl,” he groans into your ear, you shove against him once more and he slips out a few inches, just enough for you to relax. you can still feel him nestled against your cervix, he’s leaking into you and your thighs are coated in both of your arousal. you tap his shoulder for him to move again, pulling out until his tip is the only thing inside and then spearing all the way back in. the feeling makes you cross-eyed, his throbbing tip bumps along your sensitive spot until it nestles against you, as far high up as it can and you think you might be coming on every thrust because you’re so obscenely wet more slick just pours out of you every time. rafe knows it’s because there’s no space for anything but his cock and he can’t help but grin, watching your pussy engulf his length despite how small you are under him.

“feels good hah,” you finally murmur into his neck, wrapping your legs around his hips so he can drill into you better. his thrusts are deep and slow, letting you get used to the feeling but you don’t think you like it like this. if he’s going to ruin you he might as well do it properly. “h-harder.”

“turned this pussy into a slut, ‘couldn’t even take-hah-two fingers now look at you.” really he’s proud of you, proud that he made you like this. he gives into your request, it’s your first time so he’s gonna be nice to you. rafe pulls out and slams back into you setting a faster rougher pace, your skin is slapping against each other and you think he might bruise your hips. you head is shoved up the length of his bed until it threatens to bump against the headboard, he puts his hand between you and the wood, his other hand holding onto the frame for support. your legs are being bent and pressed to the sides and the new angle makes him hit that spot with blaring accuracy. a sick ring of white forms at the base of his dick and his balls are slippery from your arousal. you still have a vice grip around him, something he won’t get used to but is definitely get addicted to. the room smells filthy and the sounds of you chanting his name combined with the squelch of your cunt is pornographic.

“gonna be a good girl and come around my cock?” your walls flutter at his words, like his permission has you ready to come. you come undone with one more thrust, walls fluttering around him as if coaxing him to come. “fuck fuck fuckkkk.” he pulls out just in time for come onto your stomach, shooting thick gooey ropes onto your soft unmarred skin.

you blearily watch it happen, disappointed he didn’t come inside, but warm and fuzzy from your release. there’s one thought nagging you though as you rest comfortably on his sticky soaked sheets. “it wasn’t a one time offer right?”

“no fucking way, i’m never letting you go.” rafe looks at you like you’re crazy, he’s ready to propose. there’s no way in hell he’s making this a one night stand. after all he’s broken you in, now it’s the fun part.

taglist: @ggraycelynn

[lady-wildflower]

Using AI like this is, frankly, how you train yourself to be dumb as fucking rocks and I can't believe that that's an advertised feature. Ads on TV talking about how you can use it to summarise your emails and meetings and clean up your language for corporate stuff- THOSE ARE ALL IMPORTANT SKILLS FOR YOU, THE HUMAN BEING IN THIS EQUATION, TO LEARN!

If you're having AI summarise all your big emails to you, not only do you not know for certain if it was fucking correct, you also don't know if it explained it properly and you're so intellectually lazy that you can't be arsed making sure you actually understand what you're supposed to have been told. It might somehow save time, but at the cost of both any nuance the AI didn't catch in its dataset and your own learning. And even worse, if you use it to send an email back, whoever receives that email surely expects you to have understood the actual text of their email, not whatever bullshit the AI hallucinated, when you might not have even read the AI summary very closely! Same with meetings, how the fuck can you trust an AI to properly summarise a whole fucking meeting replete with details AND WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU WANT TO WHEN YOU COULD USE YOUR HUMAN BRAIN TO PAY ATTENTION AND A NOTEPAD?! Surely I cannot be the only person who realises that such AI-driven miscommunication could be literally lethal in a particularly sensitive field?

If you're using it to code, especially when you're supposed to be learning how to code, congrats you're a moron whose motivation to be in this class I question first of all, second, not only are you producing worse code, you're not learning how to use the code to problem solve! You're not learning the flexibility and critical thinking needed for actual coding, you're actively sabotaging your own learning.

Your homework and exams are meant to prove your understanding of a topic, of course your fellow student is struggling - he doesn't have an understanding of the topic. He's outsourced that to a machine!

How little can you care about a subject if you're using it to research?! How little curiosity can you possibly have?

Don't even get me started on using it to 'write.'

I fundamentally cannot understand the impulse to use AI this way, and I suspect that therein lies the problem; it stems from such a deep level of incuriosity and genuine laziness that it just doesn't make sense to me. Why would you want an AI between you and your coworkers, obfuscating their actual communications? Why would you want an AI to do all your coding for you?? Never mind if it's bad for your soul, it's bad for your mind! At that point, you're making a machine do all of your problem-solving, all of your thinking.

If someone's gonna decide to rely on such a thing like this, then them inevitably becoming a stupid motherfucker is kinda on them. It's an active choice not to learn. And that just flabbergasts me. It's a great retort to impostor syndrome though, those AI-bro fuckers are the impostors. Feel like you're not a good enough coder? I promise you you're better than the idiots using AI.

And all that's not even getting into how wrong it often is!

I just started grad school this fall after a few years away from school and man I did not realize how dire the AI/LLM situation is in universities now. In the past few weeks:

I chatted with a classmate about how it was going to be a tight timeline on a project for a programming class. He responded "Yeah, at least if we run short on time, we can just ask chatGPT to finish it for us"

One of my professors pulled up chatGPT on the screen to show us how it can sometimes do our homework problems for us and showed how she thanks it after asking it questions "in case it takes over some day."

I asked one of my TAs in a math class to explain how a piece of code he had written worked in an assignment. He looked at it for about 15 seconds then went "I don't know, ask chatGPT"

A student in my math group insisted he was right on an answer to a problem. When I asked where he got that info, he sent me a screenshot of Google gemini giving just blatantly wrong info. He still insisted he was right when I pointed this out and refused to click into any of the actual web pages.

A different student in my math class told me he pays $20 per month for the "computational" version of chatGPT, which he uses for all of his classes and PhD research. The computational version is worth it, he says, because it is wrong "less often". He uses chatGPT for all his homework and can't figure out why he's struggling on exams.

There's a lot more, but it's really making me feel crazy. Even if it was right 100% of the time, why are you paying thousands of dollars to go to school and learn if you're just going to plug everything into a computer whenever you're asked to think??

[kashverse]

𝒴our first encounter with the 呪術廻戦 men 

⪩⪨ ✶ implied f!reader but can be read otherwise (use of "pretty" in choso's version), strangers to lovers, fluff, featuring ♡ canon! gojo, canon! geto, single dad! toji, modern au! choso, canon! sukuna in a modern au, corporate! nanami ✿ ⪩⪨ tried a new formatting style..! ib my dear @norikuna (∩˃o˂∩)♡

gojo doesn’t see you coming. not because he’s oblivious—though, sure, that’s part of it—but because he’s too busy making himself miserable, listening to some poor bastard on the phone cry about their ex. it’s barely noon, the sun’s out, people are living their lives, and this guy’s talking about how he let “the one” slip through his fingers. “bro, just get another one,” gojo had said, dead-eyed, waiting for the crosswalk light to change. the response was more crying. he sighed, hanging up.

and then he smacked straight into you.

not a polite bump, not even a nudge—full-on body collision, your forehead meeting his chin with a sharp crack. the impact was enough to send you both stumbling, but while gojo’s built like a brick wall, you had all the misfortune of being knocked back a few steps. “ow—what the fuck?!” your voice came first, and then, through the dizzying pain, you saw him. tall, white-haired, stupidly good-looking in an insufferable way, dressed like he was on some model’s off-day. sunglasses slid down the bridge of his nose, and even through the slight daze, you could see the sharp glint of his blue eyes peering down at you.

“ah, my bad—”

“your bad?” your voice rose, disbelieving. the pain hadn’t even settled yet, but your temper had. “you nearly took my head off!”

gojo blinked. “well, technically, if i took your head off, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” he pointed out. “unless you’re a talking head, which would be—"

“are you serious?” you cut him off, hands flying up in exasperation. “you’re just standing in the middle of the damn sidewalk—”

“crosswalk,” he corrected.

“—like a fucking lamppost,” you barreled on, ignoring him. “and then you hit me. no, actually, you collided with me like a fucking train, and now you’re just standing there?”

you looked ready to kill him. gojo thought you looked radiant. people don’t really yell at him. they get nervous, flustered, awkward. maybe they complain a little, but they don’t yell. not like this—not with this kind of raw, unfiltered rage that was directed solely at him.

and he was loving it.

“ohhh, you’re mad mad,” he said, grinning.

“no shit?” you spat, rubbing your forehead. “you’re huge! why do you walk like you don’t know how to control your own size?”

“i’m huge? that’s a compliment,” he mused. “also, you ran into me.”

“i did not—"

“you did, but it’s okay,” he waved off. “i forgive you.”

your mouth dropped open. your jaw clenched so hard you swore you heard it click. “i don’t need your forgiveness,” you snapped. “i need you to watch where the hell you’re going!” gojo just smiled. “i can do that,” he said. “but only if you tell me your name first.”

you squinted at him. “why?”

“so i know what to say in my apology,” he said smoothly. “y’know, something heartfelt, real personal. ‘i’m so sorry, dear stranger, for running into you with my big, strong, muscular body—’”

your scowl deepened. “forget it,” you turned to leave, shaking your head.

gojo grabbed your wrist. lightly, like he was afraid you’d shake him off (which you probably would). “wait,” he said, less teasing this time, more curious.

you stopped, staring at him warily. “what?”

he grinned. “you’re fun.”

you yanked your arm out of his grip. “you’re annoying.”

but you weren’t yelling anymore. and maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

toji doesn't believe in love—at least, not in the way people like to romanticize it. to him, love has always been transactional. people want things: security, pleasure, a warm body to cling to at night. he provides, they take. simple.

commitment? fuck no. he’s been there, done that, and all it got him was a headache and a kid who looks at him like he’s a walking disappointment. not that he blames megumi—he knows exactly the kind of man he is. relationships, from what he's seen, are just another job. another obligation. more shit to deal with when he's already stretched thin making sure megumi doesn't starve or turn into a little menace. and he's already got enough on his plate. 

raising megumi is work. the kid is sharp, stubborn, and way too perceptive for his own good. keeping up with him is exhausting. fulfilling someone else’s expectations on top of that? hell no.

people ask if he’s lonely. he laughs. lonely? he’s got freedom. no nagging, no obligations, no answering to anyone but himself and, on the worst days, a grumpy eight-year-old who somehow thinks he’s smarter than him. love, in his experience, is just a distraction. and toji fushiguro doesn’t do distractions.

and toji swears he only looked away for a second.

he was just checking the damn price tag on some overpriced brand of instant noodles, and when he looked back, megumi was gone. poof. like a magic trick, except it wasn’t a trick, and the rising panic in his chest was very, very real. “shit,” he muttered, scanning the aisles. nothing. just a bunch of old ladies and college kids looking for cheap meals. no messy black hair, no tiny scowl. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to keep calm. he didn’t want to make a scene. people lost their kids all the time, right? it wasn’t a big deal. he just had to—

and then he saw him.

megumi was at the end of the next aisle, small hands clenched at his sides, his mouth pressed in a thin, stubborn line, like he wasn’t scared, even though he definitely was. and right next to him, crouched down to his level, was you. “you’re really good at this,” you said. megumi blinked up at you. “huh?”

“the whole ‘not panicking’ thing,” you smiled at him. “most kids freak out when they lose their parents. you’re staying calm. that’s cool.” megumi looked away, like he wasn’t sure if that was actually a compliment or not. “i don’t wanna cause trouble,” he muttered.

“aw, but that’s what parents are for,” you teased. “causing them trouble.” megumi almost smiled. almost. toji, still frozen in place, narrowed his eyes. who the hell were you?

“c’mon, let’s go find your dad,” you said, standing up and holding out a hand. megumi didn’t take it, but he followed you anyway, his short legs working hard to keep up with your pace. and toji? well. he wasn’t sure why, but instead of stepping forward, he let you find him.

he let you do the whole thing, watching as you walked with megumi, asking him questions—where he last saw his dad, what his name was, what he looked like.

“he’s really tall,” megumi said. you hummed. “tall, huh? that helps.”

“and he’s got a scar on his mouth,” he added.

“even better. anyone who looks scary is easier to spot.”

megumi frowned a little. “he’s not scary.” you smiled, ruffling his hair. “i bet he isn’t.”

toji snorted under his breath.

by the time you turned the corner and finally spotted him, megumi exhaled in relief. toji pretended not to notice how fast he ran up to him, grabbing the fabric of his shirt like he wasn’t just saying how calm he was. you, on the other hand, stopped a few steps away, hands on your hips. “you must be the scary, not-scary dad,” you said.

toji raised an eyebrow. “and you’re just a random saint, huh?” you shrugged. “not a saint. just someone who doesn’t like seeing kids upset.”

he looked at you, really looked at you. you didn’t seem put out by any of this, like helping some stranger’s kid wasn’t an inconvenience, but just another part of your day. like it was normal. toji let out a breath, then tilted his head down at megumi. “you good, kid?”

megumi nodded, though he still wasn’t letting go of toji’s shirt. toji sighed, glancing back at you. “guess i owe you, huh?”

you waved him off. “don’t worry about it. just keep an eye on him next time.”

toji huffed a laugh. “easier said than done.”

you grinned, giving megumi one last look before turning to leave. and toji? well. maybe being responsible for two people wouldn’t be so bad after all.

nanami never thought much about being single. it wasn’t a matter of pride or principle—just reality. his job was time-consuming, his patience was thin, and the thought of entertaining someone else’s needs after a long workday felt exhausting. he wasn’t lonely, just… fine. indifferent.

until he got sick of his office food.

“this is inedible,” he said flatly, staring at the sad excuse of a meal on his plate. his colleague, barely looking up from his own tray, mumbled, “it’s fine.”

nanami’s eye twitched. it was not fine. rubbery chicken, dry rice, and a soup that tasted more like dishwater than anything edible. this was not a meal—it was a punishment.

so, he made a change.

he found a small business that delivered homemade meals, something personal but convenient. it promised variety, quality ingredients, and, most importantly, flavor.

what he didn’t expect were the notes.

the first one came tucked under the neatly packed meal.

“hope today isn’t too exhausting! eat well!”

nanami stared at it for longer than he should have. then, at the food—real food. properly cooked, properly seasoned, steaming with warmth that no canteen meal could ever replicate. he didn’t think about it much. a kind gesture, that was all. but the notes kept coming.

“long meetings? i packed extra today.”

“rainy day! hope this brings some warmth.”

“rough week? your food will always be good at least.”

and then—

“your order is always so precise. you must be someone who likes routine.”

nanami paused mid-bite. he did like routine. he thrived on it. and yet, this—this unexpected kindness, these little messages—was beginning to throw him off in a way he couldn’t explain. weeks passed, meals came, and nanami found himself looking forward to them—not just for the food, but for the words that came with it. one afternoon, after another insufferable meeting, he opened his meal to find:

“do you ever take breaks? hope you’re not working too hard.”

he let out a breath, something between a sigh and a laugh. he was working too hard. but how did you—someone he’d never met—seem to know that better than the people around him? finally, curiosity got the better of him. he grabbed a pen and, for the first time, wrote back.

“who are you?”

the next day, his meal came with a note, just like always.

“just someone who wants you to eat well. but i wouldn’t mind knowing who you are too.”

and for the first time in a long time, nanami thought—maybe being single wasn’t so fine after all.

geto doesn’t believe in love. not in the way people romanticize it, anyway. he’s known desire—used it, wielded it like a tool, a means to an end. a well-timed smile, a hand grazing a wrist, a whispered promise—all of it was just another step in expanding his cause. people were easy to sway when you made them feel special. and being single? it wasn’t something he mourned. it was efficient. no attachments, no complications, no wasted energy. everything he did, every conversation, every encounter—it all served a purpose.

until you.

“you’ve been talking for a while,” you said, tilting your head at him. geto smiled. “am i boring you?”

“not at all. just wondering if you’re going to get to the point.”

he chuckled, swirling his drink. clever. impatient. interesting.

“what do you think my point is?”

you leaned back, thoughtful. “well, you’re charming, you have that practiced ease of someone who’s very used to getting what they want, and yet…” you narrowed your eyes. “you haven’t tried to get anything from me yet.”

his smile twitched. perceptive too. “maybe i’m just enjoying the conversation.”

“hmm.” you didn’t look convinced. “i doubt you talk to people without a reason.”

he laughed, shaking his head. “you wound me. am i not allowed to simply appreciate good company?”

you smirked. “do you?”

and that was the problem, wasn’t it? he did.

he was supposed to be recruiting you. that was why he approached you in the first place—he had assessed, observed, picked you out for your potential. another piece in his grander vision. but now? now, he was talking to you about books, about philosophy, about things that had nothing to do with his cause.

he liked your sharp tongue, your quick comebacks, the way you saw through people but humored them anyway. and he was enjoying this. more than he should.

“you’re thinking too hard,” you noted.

“am i?”

“yeah. for someone who flirts so easily, you seem oddly distracted.”

he chuckled, shaking his head. you had no idea. for the first time in a long time, geto suguru had forgotten his purpose. and strangely enough, he didn’t mind.

choso doesn’t really get love. it’s not that he doesn’t feel it—he does, deeply, messily, all-consuming in the way only someone who has lived too long without it can. it’s just that he doesn’t understand how it’s supposed to work. his friends talk about relationships like they’re puzzles, like you’re supposed to fit into someone else’s life piece by piece, no gaps, no edges sticking out. but choso? he keeps forcing the wrong pieces together. he’s had his heart broken by so many situationships, and he doesn’t even know what that word means. all he knows is that people like him enough to stay for a while, but not enough to stay forever. and when someone ghosts him? it’s over.

“why would they do that?” he asks yuuji, completely distraught. “i thought we were getting along.” yuuji winces. “yeah, but… sometimes people just disappear, man. it’s not your fault.”

“but why not just say they don’t like me?”

“because people suck.”

choso frowns. love is confusing. people are confusing. nothing makes sense.

until he meets you.

more specifically, until you send a pug flying in his direction. one second, he’s minding his own business, sipping a coffee, staring blankly at nothing. the next—

“watch out!”

and then—THUD.

a very round, very squishy pug collides with his chest, knocking the air out of him. he blinks. looks down. the pug is fine. choso, however, is shaken.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry,” you pant, running up to him, looking horrified. “he’s got the speed of a missile and the weight distribution of a sack of potatoes. are you okay?”

choso is still holding the pug. he has not processed a single thing except that you’re talking to him, and you’re really pretty. you snap your fingers in front of his face.

“hello? earth to guy who just got body slammed by my dog?”

he swallows. “i—i’m okay.”

you sigh in relief. “good. i don’t think my insurance covers ‘pug-related assaults.’”

he stares. then—

he laughs.

it’s an awkward, slightly delayed laugh, but it’s real. it bubbles out of him, because suddenly, everything is just… simple. you’re still talking, apologizing, trying to pry your dog from his grip, and he realizes—love doesn’t have to be this big, complicated thing. it can be a stranger, a runaway pug, and a stupidly perfect moment where he thinks, 'oh. this is it.'

sukuna has never cared for love. love is mortal, fleeting, an indulgence for the weak. he has lived for centuries without it, conquered, destroyed, thrived—all on his own. why bother with attachment? why waste time on something that promises nothing but vulnerability? he’s always been perfectly fine like this.

until the night he meets you at the bar.

he doesn’t even mean to notice you at first—just another human in a crowded room, laughing, talking, lighting up the space with an ease he’s never possessed. 

and then he hears you speak. your voice is smooth, effortless, like you’re meant to be heard. every sentence flows into the next, words never fumbling, never uncertain. you make people laugh, pull them in, keep them hanging on to every syllable. sukuna watches, listens, enthralled, before someone leans in and calls you by name—your full name. followed by—

“aren’t you that talk show host?”

and it clicks. you are. he’s seen your face before, flickering on a television screen, a passing glimpse at a life so far removed from his own.

and now he’s irritated. because you talk so easily with everyone but him. and that won’t do.

so he tries. for the first time in centuries, he tries to talk to someone—like a normal person, like it’s something he’s done before, like it’s as easy as you make it look.

but it’s not. it’s a disaster.

he waits until the crowd around you has thinned, takes the seat next to you, and—

“so.” he clears his throat. “you talk to people for a living.”

you turn, blinking, mildly amused. “i do.”

he nods, confident. good start. then nothing. his mind goes blank. shit.

you raise a brow, waiting. sukuna glares at his drink like it’s betrayed him. “how do you do it?”

you tilt your head. “do what?” he gestures vaguely. “talk. keep people engaged.”

you blink. “are you asking me how to hold a conversation?”

his jaw tenses. “no.”

you laugh. he scowls.

he tries again. “what makes a good interview?”

“oh, that’s easy,” you hum. “you have to be genuinely interested in the other person.”

he deadpans.

you smirk. “which means you have to actually listen to what they’re saying.”

“i listen,” he grumbles.

“really?” you lean in. “then what were we just talking about?”

silence. your smirk widens. “you weren’t listening.”

he groans, dragging a hand down his face. this is hell.

but he keeps trying. keeps failing, keeps making an idiot of himself, keeps suffering through every one of your knowing smiles—because for the first time in his miserable, ancient existence, he actually wants to learn.

he wants to talk to you.

and maybe, just maybe, he wants you to talk to him, too.

[cybrasigilism]

Hi, love your work! Could you write a virginity loss for the reader with thanos in the bathrooms of the games! Can y/n also be shy since it's their first time and have thanos be understanding and talk her through it +handjob ? Please and thank you!!

can’t lie i went a little insane when i saw this one 🤭🤭

Consideration (Thanos/Choi Su-bong [Player 230] X F! Reader HEADCANONS/DRABBLE)

warning: smut, crazy ik | not proofread | lowercase intended | virginity loss | soft dom! thanos (im not sure if this counts as OOC help-) | handjob | praise | public sex (it is the bathrooms after all) | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own

character: thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYYYY!! again with the point format, i feel much more at ease getting my ideas out this way, so please bear with me. my apologies if it’s hard to read because of this

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

➸ thanos, who couldn’t stop flirting with you throughout the games purely for the flustered reaction you gave almost on command.

➸ thanos, who upon finding out you were a virgin, found a way to get you alone in the bathrooms of the squid games, sneaking past the guards who surely didn’t care that he was in the wrong bathroom to begin with

➸ thanos, who had you pressed up against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom stall as his lips crashed against yours. he wasted almost no time in sliding his cold hands up your shirt, sending a shockwave of goosebumps and pleasure up your skin

➸ thanos, who spent so much time kissing and sucking on your neck, you would have been shocked if you walked out of this unscathed by hickeys. each time his tongue passed over your sensitive skin, you saw stars

➸ thanos, who had you kneel between his legs as he pulled his dick out, guiding your hand in his up and down the length of it.

➸ thanos, who encouraged you through the entirety of the handjob. who told you “fuck, your hands are so soft”, “ngh, feels so good when you touch me like that baby..”, “you’re doing great, keep going just like that, yeah” between breathy moans

➸ thanos, who’s hands never ceased to roam your body when you decided to straddle him for the first time. he reassured you when the pressure of sinking down onto him became almost too much at points, wiping the tears from your face. of course, he let you sit there for as much as you needed to adjust.

“shit, y’re taking me so well, señorita.”

“hey, hey— you’re doing amazing so far, don’t cry!”

“fuck i can’t wait to make you feel good…”

➸ thanos, who eased you into the whole process of riding him. he was used to a faster paced, intense, more hot and heavy kind of session, but this time was different. he could see the anxiety in your eyes, he definitely knew how big of a deal this was for you, and he wanted to make it as special as possible— for these circumstances anyhow.

“that’s it, you’re practically a natural already. that’s my girl, fuck.”

➸ thanos, who moved your hips himself when you had gotten shy on him. you were insecure of how good of a job you were doing, but he wasn’t going to stand for that. you already know he was going to make sure you knew how good you were doing— or rather, how good you felt.

“holy hell, you’re so tight.. fuck i dunno how long i’ll last señorita”

“so good… so good and all f’ me”

“don’t s—top, god i don’t ever want you to stop”

“what’s wrong? you’re fucking me so good, keep going!”

➸ thanos, whose moans drove you wild when you eventually got the boost of confidence you needed to start riding him yourself. the sounds he was making made you tighten even more than you thought possible, which in turn made him cry out even more.

“shit, if you keep going like this ‘m gonna cum”

“fuck yes, fuck me like that.. you got it, oh god, you got it”

“need ya’ s’bad… i needed this so b—ad, fuck!”

➸ thanos, who wrapped his arms around you after you came. he pulled you into him, chests heaving in tandem as you both came down off this metaphorical high. he caressed the back of your head, the praises he sang for you continued flowing.

“that was fucking, wow. y’ did so good, señorita.”

“see? i knew you could do it, such a good girl for me.”

─────────────

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY GUYS!!

to the anon that requested this, i truly hope this is something like what you had in mind. and to everyone as a whole, i hope you enjoyed! i’ve been fighting off a mean writer’s block so i apologize if this isn’t my best work, but i’m just glad to put something out!

as usual, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fantastic day lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @kvstjwonnie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga

[whos-the-seme]

okay but I kinda need read a fic where Shen Yuan is wife plotted (AGAIN) by some random papapa plant (dammit Airplane--) and he basically falls into a floating coma or something. on a hunt for some rare herbs with liu qingge, he's lured by the sound of his Binghe's (his lost little lamb) voice and ends up ensnared.

okay, imagine that he's being held high in the air by these vines, just asleep, and nothing can wake him, even after liu qingge cuts the monster plant down to get him. he's just sleeping, rosy-cheeked, unwakeable.

peak lords panic, and start trying to figure it out what this rare plant is. sqh wracks his brain somewhat and somewhat remembers this plot line.

they come to the conclusion that its the everlasting dreams flower or some shit. basically traps the victim in their dreams while it sucks out their qi until the person dies of dehydration/starvation or qi loss, whichever kills them first (sometimes, its not the latter, and if the person is a cultivator, they can last a while before their qi is fully drained enough that they can no longer practice inedia but also haven't died yet). meanwhile, the person won't even care because their dreams are so sweet, that they don't want to leave.

the only way to cure it? true love's song. someone who truly knows and loves the sleeper needs to sing something from the heart, and if it's pure enough or something, it can pierce through the pleasant dreams of the person and wake them up. yqy and lqg instantly become flustered, but both of them can't help but secretly wonder how it would feel to have Xiao jiu/shen-shixiong wake up at their song.

they confer with the rest of the peak lords a little outside of shen yuan's resting rooms on the Qian Cao peak, and yqy decides to sing a little lullaby he used to sing to Xiao jiu when they were still on the streets. he goes in, his voice is a steady but a bit nervous, but he croons that shit out. airplane can't believe his fucking ears. yqy could honestly be an idol its not fair wtf-- only, sqh knows he can't dance to save his fucking life, so.

when yqy finishes, he waits, but his heart sinks when Xiao jiu doesn't so much as stir. he hurries out of the room but sqh notices how the tips of his ears are red in embarrassment. of course, even when he still had his memory, Xiao jiu wanted nothing to do with him, why did he think it would change now, he just--

lqj goes in next. he murmurs a song that he constantly hears sqq sometimes strumming on his guqin, thinking that means sqq must love the song. he's not sure what else he can do, he doesn't know how to sing from the heart, but the feelings he has for his shixiong... he has to at least try to wake him.

he doesn't wake. lqj walks out in defeat.

airplane who has been wracking his brain all this time because he was trying to think of requirements for awakening so he wasn't paying attention suddenly jumps up. he doesn't mind the startled glances that the other peak lords give him.

he just remembered!

the song didn't have to be a romantic song or anything. the love for the sleeper didn't have to be romantic love, at all! he remembered this plot line that he added about binghe trying to wake one of his wives, but it was one of the wives' sisters that woke her, because she truly loved her sister deeply. causing binghe to realize that his love was becoming shallow, in that it wasn't enough anymore or blah blah blah. he scrapped that plot line and that plant after he got a ton of bad reviews for even suggestion that lbh's love (pillar) wasn't big enough and so he had lbh fix it with papapa, but whatever!

he shivered.

anyway, the story has been so warped over time that its only told that it has to be a romantic lover. but it didn't have to be.

he had an idea. he loved Shen Yuan! despite the rocky start, their shared transmigration and experiences led them to form a closer relationship, and Shen Yuan was his best friend. he knew him wholly, both in his bitchiness of Cucumber-bro of their old lives, and in the snarky-masquerading-as-pretentious SQQ he was in their new lives. He knew him as a whole of Shen Yuan, not as Xiao Jiu, or as the original goods.

and also, both he and Shen Yuan had discovered they both liked some similar songs during one of their weekly private meetings a few weeks ago, while Shen Yuan was there under the guise of planning their eventual escapes, but was actually just drinking up all his wine and ransacking his snacks.

he's got this! (he hopes.) (he would quite not like his bro to die from an unwakeable coma.)

confidently, with incredulous stares following him, he walks into the room and sits at shen yuan's bedside. and proceeded to sing, as smoothly as he could, a vocaloid love song. if nothing else, it might shock Shen Yuan awake to hear a random ass vocaloid song in his dreams. the lyrics are actually pretty sweet and soft, but he can't stop imagining the music behind it, making it funnier than it should be to sing it.

[Shen Yuan, whose dreamscape has become completely synchronized to his current living conditions and so he dreams of the serene bamboo hut: *sitting at his table with binghe pouring him more tea* *sudden hatsune fucking miku disturbing the atmosphere*

Shen Yuan: 👁️👄👁️]

while he tries not to giggle as the song comes to an end, the stares of the other peak lords boring into his back from the doorway (he can just hear them thinking, "yqy and lqg couldn't wake him up but you think you can?" but maybe that's just his imagination. or maybe they think the song is shitty, what does he know--), shen yuan's eyes flutter open.

airplane, who didn't think this would actually actually work (though he hoped), gapes at him. Shen Yuan, eyes half lidded from sleep, gazes back.

"uh..."

"The everlasting dreams flower, really? That was a really good plot line, can't believe you, ah," Shen Yuan yawns, "dropped it in favor of more papapa as always, you shitty author." He can't catch a break. Why did he wake this guy up again?

"he's awake!?" multiple voices cry out.

THUMP. yqy has fainted.

they both have forgotten their audience. liu qingge has goes outside to punch a tree. the other peak lords are in various states of disarray, disbelief, and discomfort. liu minyan has appeared out of nowhere to take notes. mu qingfāng rolls his eyes and comes in to check shen-shenanigans's meridians.

"Can't believed that shit worked, honestly," Shen Yuan says, eyeing one of the older disciples try to drag YQY to a cot. he is starting to rouse. "hatsune miku, really?"

"aw! well now you know how deeply and purely I love you, shixiong!"

THUMP. YQY has fainted again.

more sounds of breaking trees from outside. mu qingfāng warily calls out a warning to avoid his good medicinal trees, thanks.

after a while of conversation, with eyes closing a bit once more, from exhaustion, rather than the plant poison, Shen Yuan gives Shang Qinghua a small smile. As his eyes flutter shut again, he says, "I love you too, bro."

[can-i-make-image-descriptions]

[Image IDs: Image #1: Tweet from verified user Joey Mannarino (@/ JoeyMannarinoUS reading: Pete Buttigieg woke up this morning and got f*cked (fucked) in the ass by his husband.

He sucked his husband's cock and the balls too.

Image #2: Tumblr post from ivyBlooms on Sep 13, 2024 reading: The funniest homophobia I ever experienced was a Mormon lady at my work telling me she would accept me being gay because we have to get along as coworkers but I really should consider not being gay because gay people have sex lives like animals (especially gay men) and she just couldn't stop thinking about it and how gross we are. She started really getting distressed, near tears, and saying 'I cant' stop thinking about it. I can't stop." over and over and miming some kind of sex acts with her hands and I was like ?????? What is happening???? One of the other Mormon ladies had to come over and pat her back and help her sit down to help her calm down and our boss gave her the afternoon off due to being too upset to work. /End IDs]

Conservatives having a normal one

[absurdthirst]

Stupid Cupid {Javier Peña x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: FWB, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, hair pulling, hurt feelings, insults, canon-typical violence, mentions of prostitution, jealousy, embarrassment, Javi groveling, angry words, confessions, oral sex (female receiving), lingerie.

Comments: Valentine's Day turns into a disaster for Javi when he asks a dumb question like why would he take you out for the lover's holiday.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Javier Peña MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, holding tight just like you’ve discovered he enjoys. The kiss passed between you including little nips of teeth, especially by him that makes you moan every time. The room is hot, sticky from the way your bodies move together. Javi’s grunts are music to your ears as he thrusts into you, holding firm to your waist as if he’s scared you’re going anywhere. “Fuck, Javi.” You pant, tilting your head back as he kisses down your throat. You both need this, need the stress relief from the hectic and sometimes overwhelming job of hunting down Pablo Escobar.

He grinds deep into your cunt like it's his haven from the shit show constantly happening outside the four walls of your apartment. It's his sanctuary and he worships you as you let him take what he wants. He leaves indentations on your skin in places that can be concealed by your clothes but he nips whatever inch of skin he has access to. You moan when he adjusts the angle, hitting something that solidifies his identity to your neighbors - as if they don't hear the same cry nearly every night - and you tilt your head back, eyes squeezed shut. "There. Fuck. Right there baby." You plead breathlessly, needing him to keep that angle.

Javi grunts, teeth grinding as he concentrates on keeping that angle. He’s so fucking close to cumming but he wants you to cum with him. You two are so in sync, so tuned to each other. He knows your body as well as he knows his own. Your hand slides from his hair and to his shoulder, wrapping around the firm muscles on the broad length of them. “So close, baby, I’m gonna-“ your breath catches right before you cry out. Body stiffening underneath his and the walls of your cunt clamp down around him, soaking him in your pleasure.

He grunts at the way you squeeze him, his mind going blank to the pleasure of being inside you. Javier pants, his grip tightening as he rocks you on his cock while he clenches his jaw. "Hermosa. Fuck. Feel so goddamn good." He groans, thrusting a few more times until he can't take it anymore. He pushes deep, a low groan of your name echoing in the room while his cock pulses, painting your walls with his hot cum. You sigh, caressing his back as he leans forward to rest his sweaty forehead on your chest. 

“Perfect.” You giggle slightly, basking in the luxurious bliss after an orgasm. Soon you will get up and clean up and light a cigarette, but right now, all you can hear is your mingled panting breaths and the way your heart beats wildly in your chest.

He playfully shifts to bite your chin and you caress his cheek. He looks up at you and leans in to softly kiss you. After a moment, he pulls out of you and shifts to lay down, pulling you into his chest. He kisses your forehead and you curl around him, making him itch for a smoke since he’s so relaxed.

“Three times.” You huff, sliding your hand up his chest and down over the slightly soft pooch of his belly. He grumbles about needing to lay off the whiskey sometimes but you think that he is just perfect. “I don’t know how you are going to top that tomorrow.”

Javier snorts, closing his eyes to just enjoy the relaxation seeping into his bones, “I think I’ll manage. Know exactly what to press to make you fall apart for me.” He smirks, squeezing your ass as you curl around him. His other arm behind his head, and he opens his eyes to look down at you. “I think I’ll manage it.”

You smirk slightly, kissing his chest and humming. “After dinner?” You arch a brow. “I think I deserve more than whiskey for dinner for Valentine’s Day.” You’ve been sleeping together for nearly eight months, and it’s clear that you’ve fallen for your often curt partner, but he has moments where you swear that he adores you. You just want to do something like a normal couple for once, since you can’t openly date.

Javier can’t help it. He freezes under your touch, and he feels like he just swallowed a golf ball. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. He completely forgot about it. He hasn’t gotten a woman flowers or celebrated the holiday since Lorraine practically held a gun to his head and demanded he get her flowers. “Why would I take you to dinner?” He asks, confused and panicking a little that this isn’t just sex for you like he thought it was.

You had been expecting some smartass comment, a joke about buying you a sandwich or something. Not panic and….what sounded like disgust. You stiffen and pull away, finding abject horror in his eyes when you look at him. “Obviously you wouldn’t.” You huff, twisting around to climb out of the bed so you can flee into the bathroom.

He frowns, watching you march into the bathroom, and he takes that as his cue. He reaches for his pants from the floor, pulling the denim up his legs and he zips them up before he searches for his shirt. His heart pounds and he doesn’t know what to say when you come out of the bathroom minutes later to find him putting on his shoes.

You tighten the belt of your robe, not wanting to feel completely exposed. Instead of him waiting to explain for being an asshole, he’s getting ready to leave. You had wondered if you were being too pushy or maybe overreacting to everything until you saw him dressed. Your heart twists and feels like it’s breaking, but you just walk over to your dresser and pick up your pack of cigarettes. Pulling one out and lighting up, taking a long drag before you exhale. “You know where the door is.”

He stares at you, unsure of what he wants. Maybe he wanted you to scream at him, tell him he’s an asshole for not taking you to dinner after he’s fucked you nearly every night for months. He nods, reaching into his back pocket for his cigarettes and he places one in his mouth, patting his shirt for his lighter but he daren’t ask you for a light when you’re looking at him like you want to set him on fire. He leaves without another work, making his way back to his apartment to wonder what the fuck went wrong tonight.

“Fucking asshole.” You ignore the tears that are sliding down your cheeks as you smoke your cigarette, closing your eyes when you hear the door close with a soft click. Tomorrow is going to be miserable.

****

The next day, Javier arrives at the embassy and all he sees are fucking roses and chocolates and cards. Is he the only one who forgot Valentine’s Day? He grunts as he walks down the hall until he enters his office to find Steve fumbling through giving delivery instructions to a driver for a florist. He rolls his eyes and takes the phone, helping to give the man directions to their building and that’s when you walk in. His heart thumps in his chest and you don’t even look at him as you pull your office chair out.

“Morning Steve.” You offer when Murphy leans back in his chair and shoots you a good morning. “You look cheerful.” You tease. “Big plans with the wife?” The blonde man grins even wider and winks. “Hell yeah, I’m going to romance her tonight and make sure that I get laid.” It’s sweet how much the couple loves each other, even with all the shit you are dealing with. “What about Olivia?” You ask, knowing that dealing with the little girl they’ve adopted has been a big change for the young family. “I’ve got a neighbor we trust to watch her.”

“That’s good.” You smile as Steve looks proud of himself. Things have been rocky lately, but he’s hoping tonight will put them back on steady ground. “What about you?” He asks, glancing over at Javier but his question is towards you. He’s not stupid, he knows you two are sleeping together. Javi comes in smelling like your perfume way too often to not know. You are looking down at your paperwork, so you don’t see the look and you hum. “I’ve got a date with Thomas Moore tonight.” You announce. “First date.”

Javier nearly drops the cigarette he’s smoking on his shirt, his eyebrows immediately raised. “From the CIA?” Steve asks, his brow furrowed in confusion. Surely Javier would be taking you for dinner after he’s fucked you for God knows how long. “Yep.” You pop the ‘p’ and Javier huffs as he snubs out his smoke. “Really? When did he ask you out?” Javier asks through slightly clenched teeth.

You shrug slightly. “He’s been asking me out for two months.” You admit. “But he called with some information that he thought I might be able to use last night, and asked again.” You know Javi cares more about the intel you might have gotten than anything else, so you shuffle through your reports. “I said yes.”

Javier taps his fingers on the table, curious why you’d never mentioned that Moore was asking you out. “What’s the intel?” He grunts, trying to show he’s not bothered even when his stomach is twisting in annoyance and jealousy.

You hum as you look through the papers, knowing that Javi is impatient for the information so you don’t rush. Wanting to make sure that it’s a solid lead. When you find the CentraSpy report you grin as you wave it towards Steve, ignoring Javi. “Blackie is making a drop off today. One of the safe houses we stopped surveilling.” You tell him, pushing out of your chair and grabbing your jacket. “Let’s hope he’s on time because I’m leaving early today.”

Steve nods, excitement on his face to finally get a lead after chasing tail for so goddamn long. Javier is more apprehensive. “You’re telling us you basically sold yourself for some intel.” Javier scoffs, crossing his arms after scratching his jaw. He didn’t have time to shave this morning since he barely slept, thinking about you. He doesn’t get up right away, watching Steve shrug on his jacket and he sighs, grabbing his pack of cigarettes as he stands.

You frown at his accusation, but you turn away and start walking out of the office so he doesn’t see you. There’s a sharp retort on your tongue about his own methods, but you won’t let him know that you are bothered by his comment. Thomas Moore is coming down the hall, smiling happily as you come towards him. “Hey, are we still on for tonight?” He asks and you nod. “Seven okay?” You ask, stopping and smiling flirtatiously. “I want to make sure I’ve got time to get ready.”

Javi clenches his jaw, unable to help himself, and Steve smirks, aware of the situation. Thomas nods, winking at you, “I’ll see you then.” You grin and continue walking down the hall. Javier glares at Thomas who frowns, confused about the DEA agent’s annoyance at him. “You seriously want to go out with that prick?” Javier scoffs, “can’t even tell you a damn time.”

“Don’t worry about what I do, Peña.” You huff as the three of you walk out of the building towards your Jeep. Javi normally wants to drive, but you’ll be damned if you let him be in charge today. “It’s none of your business who I date or who I take home with me.” You open the door and ignore his frown of annoyance at not taking his vehicle. “He wants to take me out for Valentine’s Day. Big deal.”

Javier rolls his eyes, “yeah. And get laid.” He scoffs and Steve snorts under his breath at this show you’re both putting on. You unlock your Jeep and Javier - who usually always sits in the front - sulks in the back seat as you drive to the lookout point. Your situation ship began on a lookout. Steve was sick so it was just the two of you. You listened to music, smoked, and then you began to talk…which turned into making out…which turned into you riding him in the backseat of his Jeep. Since that night, you had an unspoken agreement that this was colleagues with benefits. At least that’s what Javi thought.

You don’t look in the rear view mirror as you drive, getting a prime parking spot about a hundred yards away from the safe house front door. You park and turn off the engine, settling back into your seat and checking your watch. “Maybe we will finally get lucky.” You murmur to Steve. “And don’t forget I’ve got some crackers in the glovebox.” You tell him, knowing how much he enjoys snacking during stakeout.

Steve nods, “fuck yes.” He leans his elbow on the window and watches Javier in the wing mirror who has a pout on his face at the turn of events. Clearly the man thought you’d pine forever but you’ve decided to take action and Steve can’t disagree with it. Peña can’t drag you along without putting a label on what you’ve been doing. “The intel was bullshit.” Javier scoffs after a few minutes of waiting. “Clearly that jackass just wanted an excuse to get in your pants tonight so he made some shit up.”

You snort and shake your head, reaching for your cigarettes. It’s apparently going to be a day of thinly veiled insults and attitude. “Doubtful.” You say with the cigarette between your lips and you cup your free hand around the lighter since the window is down. “Better chance of getting in my pants if the lead is good.”

Javier rolls his eyes, “didn’t know it was that easy.” He quips, knowing he’s being an asshole but he is hurt that you’ve already moved on so quickly because he didn’t plan a fucking Valentine’s Day dinner. Like this entire situation isn’t life or death. In Laredo, he could relax and take you for a steak dinner, buy you roses, and make you feel special, but this isn’t home. Any moment, Escobar could find you and hurt you. He can’t take the risk.

Your jaw tightens and your eyes flicker to the rear view mirror, finding him looking at you in challenge. His eyes dark and for a split second you swear you see hurt flash through their depths. “Yeah, well, you should see some of the losers I’ve fucked.” You shoot back coolly, taking another puff of your cigarette. “Thoughtless assholes.”

Javier scoffs, shaking his head, and he knows that he won’t win this argument. He’s trying to keep you safe and if you can’t see that, then you aren’t aware of the dangers Escobar poses. He rubs his forehead, checking his watch, and he swears Steve is trying to piss him off as he crunches on stupid fucking crackers.

You don’t say anything else, just keep watch on the slightly rundown house that has newspapers covering the windows. Ever so often, you glance in the mirror at Javi, starting to feel guilty and hurt, and feeling guilty about being hurt. You haven’t had a conversation about what was happening between the two of you, pretending that it would somehow magically define itself. Javier isn’t one to date, that’s obvious and it’s better that you just get over him now before you do something stupid like confess how you feel.

Time seems to drag and Javier taps his fingers on the window sill, watching and waiting for Blackie to appear. Just when he thought Moore really is full of shit, the sicario appears and Javier sits up straight. “Well I’ll be damned.” Steve comments with a mouth full of crackers.

“Damn right.” You sit up and reach for the camera. Wanting to take photos before you move in for the arrest. Knowing that the documentation will be invaluable. “Finish your crackers, Murphy.” You tell him as you look through the lenses and click photo after photo.

Steve crunches enough to make Javier clench his jaw in annoyance and the blonde man knows that. He smirks and takes a sip of his coffee before you set the camera down. “Let’s get this over with.” Javier demands, opening the back door to get out and he pulls out his sunglasses to put them on.

“Well, I guess we are arresting him now.” You huff, setting the camera down and scrambling after Javier out of the truck. Steve is getting out on the other side and you reach behind you to pull your gun out of the holster at the base of your spine. The three of you spread out, knowing that Blackie will either run or start shooting. It’s only a question of which one he chooses.

Javier rolls his eyes at your tone and he pulls his gun from his back, keeping it low as he strides forward to follow Blackie down the alley. The sicario doesn’t see the three of you for several moments until he spins, gun in hand, and he fires it. The bullet whizzes past Javier and he clenches his jaw, taking off after the sicario while shouting at Steve to cut him off on the other side.

“Fuck!” While you know it’s not Javi’s fault, you can’t help but be annoyed at his impatience. It would have been easier to box him in when he was in the house. You take off another route, knowing that the alleyways connect the neighborhood and you don’t want him to slip away.

Javier pants as he chases after Blackie and it happens so fast. His heart beats then stops as Blackie runs down an alley and you are standing there with your gun aimed at the sicario. You fire your weapon, hitting the sicario in the shoulder and he wastes no time firing his gun back at you. By some miracle, the bullet imbeds itself in the wall beside you, and Javier rushes forward, firing his gun but the sicario runs fast, shoving you to the ground, and he turns the corner. Javier doesn't even think as he kneels down to pull you into his arms. "Fuck! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" He rushes out, desperate to hear that you are okay.

You are breathless, both from the near miss that you had and the way you had fallen when Blackie had pushed you down. It takes you a second to be able to talk and you feel Javi’s hand running all over your body, desperately checking for injuries. For a moment, you melt, feeling his worry but then you remember how he had been so cold last night and this morning. You shove him away and push to your knees. “I’m fine.” You hiss, slapping his hand when he reaches for you again. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He recoils from you and the way you tell him not to touch you. His stomach twists and he shuffles back, holding his hands up. “Fine. Get the fuck up.” He demands now that he knows you’re not hurt. Steve runs towards you, chest heaving, and he shakes his head. “He got away.” Javier hisses, pissed off at the missed opportunity. He smacks his hand on the wall as you stand up and Steve frowns in worry, his blue eyes flicking between you. “Fuck.” He growls, “we lost him.”

You groan and bend down to pick up your gun, dropped when you had been knocked down. “I hit the fucker though.” You report grimly, tucking your gun back into its holster and sighing as you look around to get your bearings. “He’s not going to go back to the safe house.” It pisses you off that once again the sicarios that you’ve been chasing have slipped away. You know you should apologize for being so hateful to Javi, but you don’t. He wouldn’t. Turning around, you start walking back towards your Jeep.

Javier inhales shakily, his heart pounding in his chest, and he takes a second until he follows you. Steve watches him, slapping him on the back, “we will get the fucker.” He promises and Javi nods, trying to think about what went wrong. He could’ve shot the fucker but the thought of missing and shooting you…he couldn’t do it. He approaches your Jeep and Steve is in the driver’s seat. He gets in the back seat, shutting the door. “Can you drop me off at the girls?” Javier asks, knowing that Steve will know what he means.

You hate how your entire body tenses up and your heart aches when he asks that. You snort in disbelief, mostly at yourself and sink down into your passenger seat. Not looking in the mirrors at Javi and counting down the seconds before you can get away from him. Apparently sooner than you had expected.

Everyone is silent as Steve drives through the streets. You had all hoped this would amount to success. Finally some movement but that didn’t happen. Blackie got away. When Steve pulls up outside the unsuspecting home, Javier opens the door and gets out. “Thanks.” He grunts, looking back at you sitting in the front of the car, and when you turn your head, his heart aches. With a nod, he turns on his heel and makes his way into the brothel.

You bite your lip, facing forward and refusing to watch as he knocks on the brothel door and is let inside. Steve sighs but you cross your arms and try to pretend that it doesn’t hurt. “More time for me to get ready for my date.” You manage to say, but it sounds hollow.

****

Thomas guides you into the restaurant, his hand on your lower back, and he’s already told you three times that you look beautiful. It’s sweet but it doesn’t make you shiver like when Javier has murmured it when he’s inside you. Thomas pulls the chair out for you, letting you sit down, and he rushes around the table to take his seat. “I heard that this is the best restaurant in Bogotá.” Thomas says, clearly nervous, and you offer him a smile, “it’s great.” He beams but his smile falters when his eyes widen. You frown, turning your head to see what’s caught his eye and your jaw drops slightly. It’s Javier and he’s brought a date. Javier has his hand on Gabby’s lower back, guiding her over to the table next to you, and he can’t help but smirk at his luck.

Goddamnit. Your heart lurches and your stomach twists. Gabby is lovely, beautiful and kind, but it’s a punch to the gut that he would be insulted at the idea of taking you out to dinner but would bring the woman he pays to have sex with. Forcing yourself to nod to Gabby politely, you don’t acknowledge Javier. You swallow harshly and your eyes snap back towards Thomas. “I need a drink.” You pant, hating how you are hurt and jealous all at the same time.

Thomas nods, unsure of why you look nauseous, and he gestures for the waiter to come over just as Javier sits down on the table next to him, facing you. The waiter comes over and Thomas grins, proudly ordering a bottle of champagne. Javier snorts at the display, and he  knows you’d want a gin and tonic.

You don’t correct him, instead you smile at the gesture and keep your eyes glued to Thomas, almost afraid to look over at Javi. He had apparently found time between rounds with Gabby to change and he looks good. Your cunt clenches and you hate how your body betrays you, knowing that he’s going to go back to the brothel tonight and not be in your bed. “Your tip was good.” You tell Thomas, smiling at him. “I’m going to need you to keep feeding me those tips.” You tease.

The CIA agent smirks, “of course. We got more where that came from. I have plenty of intel…as long as you keep giving me those pretty smiles.” He winks and you giggle. Javier rolls his eyes and Gabby nudges him with her foot, leaning over to take his hand in hers. The waiter brings the bottle of champagne over, popping it, and you soon have a bubbly glass in front of you. “To new partners.” Thomas toasts and lifts his glass.

“To new partners.” You echo, taking a sip of the champagne and hating how sweet it is. Still, you drink half the glass before you set it down, needing the alcohol. “Thank you.” You murmur, watching Javi out of the corner of your eye. You see his and Gabby’s hands intertwined so you reach out and take Thomas’s hand. “This is a very lovely place and the company is even better.” You coo.

The waiter comes over to Javier and Gabby. Your partner orders a whiskey and Gabby gets a vodka soda, squeezing Javier’s hand after she winks at him, knowing that he sees you holding Thomas’s hand. “Thanks for helping me relax earlier.” Javier tells Gabby, picking her hand up to press a kiss to the back of it.

You squeeze the CIA agent’s hand and he frowns slightly. “Everything alright?” He asks, concern lacing his tone. You swallow and smile, ignoring the way your stomach twists since you know exactly how Javier likes to relax. “Just a little sore from earlier.” You admit. “Might need you to help me loosen up.” You give him a suggestive smile.

Javier clenches his jaw and Gabby notices, biting her lip. The waiter sets their drinks down, and Javier immediately picks up his whiskey to take a gulp. Thomas doesn’t notice and smirks, “let’s see how good dinner is and maybe we can get dessert.” He teases and Javier snorts at the lame response. If it was him, he’d be charming you, telling you how he would help you loosen up.

You giggle and slap at Thomas’s hand playfully. “Such a gentleman.” You coo, trying to play it up. “Dessert will be the best part of the night, I promise.” You had made sure your dress was sexy and your make-up alluring. You lean forward slightly to give him a better look at your tits. Opening your menu so you can look at the choices and let him gawk.

His eyes drop down and he swallows harshly. Javier also drops his gaze to your tits and he narrows his eyes. You look fucking gorgeous and he knows it could’ve been him sitting opposite you if he only had the balls to do what he should’ve done. Now he’s sitting opposite Gabby who agreed to help him in his ridiculous plan. “What do you want to eat, Javi?” Gabby asks him, “or should we just skip straight to dessert?” She asks, smirking as she leans closer to him. Her tits pushed together and Thomas’s gaze drifts over to her chest.

“Oooooh, should we have some oysters?” You ask, looking up as Thomas immediately looks back at you, his cheeks flushed at being caught looking at another woman. You don’t say anything, just slide your foot out of your shoe and reach out under the table to rub it against his ankle. Wanting his attention on you. “You know what they say about oysters.” You giggle.

Javier wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t. He knows when you are genuinely attracted to someone, and he knows you’re forcing the flirting. “Uh, oysters. Yeah.” Thomas nods lamely, making Javier chuckle under his breath at the boring response.

You hear the laugh and your eyes snap over to Javier. Your jaw tight as you glare at him, “what was that, Peña?” You hiss, annoyed that he’s here. He’s distracting you and clouding your thoughts when you should be trying to get over his stupid mustache and the way his cologne smells.

Javier shrugs, “nothing. Just think you shouldn’t be on a date if you need an aphrodisiac to get the blood flowing.” He quips, smirking at Gabby, “oysters ain’t doing anything for me to get it up.”

“You prick.” You hiss, twisting in your chair to glare at Javi. The smug asshole just flicks his eyes over to you in amusement, happy he’s riled you up. “Why the fuck are you even here?” You demand. “It’s Valentine’s Day. Why would you take anyone to dinner on Valentine’s Day?” Your words are dripping with sarcasm as you completely forget about your own date.

Thomas frowns, confused by your annoyance. He thought that you and Javier were just partners…work colleagues. “Gabby is important to me.” Javier counters, “I’ve known her a long time. As for being here…well, I heard this was the best restaurant in Bogotá.”

His jab hits its intended mark and you inhale sharply. “Asshole.” Gabby was important to him, special enough to want to spend time outside of a bedroom. But you were just a convenient fuck. You know that he has to be paying her to take her to dinner and it hurts worse than you expected to learn that he would rather pay for companionship than to do more than fuck you. You turn back towards Thomas, a little desperate. “Do you want to get out of here?” You ask.

Thomas sees how upset you are and he isn’t stupid. He connects the dots. You’re fucking Javier and this date is to make him jealous. He shakes his head, standing up and he pulls his wallet from his pants. “That’s for the champagne. I don’t know what’s going on now but I’m not going to be in the middle of whatever the fuck this is.” He scoffs and tosses some cash down. He looks at Javier, “I don’t know what she sees in you.” He says and strides from the table, shaking his head. Javier scoffs, unable to believe he left like that but he’s also secretly pleased.

You sit there for a moment, staring at the money he had thrown down. Embarrassed and ashamed of how this night has turned out. Your cheeks feel like they are on fire and worse you can feel the tears starting to build in your eyes. “Shit.” You leap up and rush towards the bathroom, unwilling to let Javi see you cry.

Javier watches you rush off and his eyes flick back to Gabby. “Go after her.” She urges and he nods, shifting to stand up. He follows you to the bathroom, knocking on the door. “Hermosa.” He  calls after clearly his throat. He says your name, wanting you to know he’s serious about talking to you.

“Go away, Javi.” You beg, closing your eyes as you try to stop yourself from crying. Of course he doesn’t listen to you and you hear the door open. You press your eyes together harder as you bend over at the sink. “Please just go away.”

He sees you bent over the sink and his heart clenches. “Not until you tell me why you accepted going on a date with that CIA prick. He’s never going to be what you need. Why’d you put yourself through that when you know he could never make you feel like I do. That limp prick couldn’t make you cum like I do.”

That pisses you off and pushes the tears away for a second. You whirl around and glare at him. “The great Javier Peña.” You hiss, poking him in the chest with your finger. “God’s gift to women’s orgasms.” You snort and step away from him. “Sometimes a woman wants more than just a fucking orgasm.” You inform him. “Unless she’s getting paid to fake them.” You smirk coldly. “Enjoy your night with Gabby.” You turn around and walk out of the women’s bathroom, ready to go the fuck home and pretend tonight didn’t happen.

Javier huffs, rubbing his chest, and he knows he’s fucked up. He lets you go, knowing you’ll be okay to get home, and he makes his way outside to Gabby. He follows Thomas’s lead and he tosses some cash down onto the table. “I’m taking you home.” He says and she nods, grabbing her purse. When Javier is driving her back to her place, she turns to look at him. “I wondered why you haven’t been fucking me for a while. Only coming to pay me for intel. It was her. She clearly loves you. Why the hell didn’t you take her to dinner tonight?” Gabby asks and Javier adjusts his hands on the steering wheel. “It’s complicated. I- I’m too fucking complicated for her.” He admits his deepest thoughts.

Gabby snorts and shakes her head. “Men.” She scoffs. “You don’t think she’s complicated? She’s a female DEA agent in Colombia. Tracking down the same dangerous men that you say make you too complicated.” He sighs and she doesn’t cut him any slack. “What do you think they would do to her if they caught her? You don’t think she knows that? She lives with that everyday and the man she loves would rather push her away than risk it?” She reaches over and touches his hand. “Don’t do that to her. Don’t do that to both of you.”

Javier clenches his jaw, imagining too many times what could happen to you if one of Escobar’s men got hold of you. He shudders slightly and Gabby notices but doesn’t say anything. “I’ve fucked up. She hates me now. I took you to dinner after telling her what we had was just sex. She’ll never forgive me.” He murmurs and Gabby scoffs, “she loves you. Get some damn roses and get your ass over to her place to apologize. Grovel.” She adds, “all women like a man who begs.” She smirks and Javier nods, knowing it’s going to be impossible to find roses this time of night but he’s going to try. He drops Gabby off at her place, thanking her, and she refuses the money until he shoves it in her hand. She kisses his cheek and soon he’s speeding to find a florist. There’s one still open and when he strides in, he asks for roses at the same time another man asks for them. “I was here first.” The man argues and Javier tilts his head, reaching for his wallet, “I’ll pay more.” The shop owner glances between the men. “What if you both take six?” She suggests and Javier knows it’s not the grand gesture he was after but it will have to do. He nods and pays, rushing back to his Jeep and soon, he’s standing on your doorstep. His heart pounds as he waits for you to answer the door.

You’ve kicked off your shoes and are spoon deep in a pint of rocky road, trying to bury yourself in ice cream to make yourself feel better. Wallowing in misery, you know tomorrow will be horrible. Thomas is hurt by your selfishness. Using him to get over Javi and he didn’t deserve that. He was a good guy, for being CIA. You fucked up and what’s worse is that you know Javi will be enjoying his night with Gabby, not even giving you a second thought. Dipping the spoon into the carton, you sniffle slightly and then freeze when you hear a knock on your door. You sigh, wondering who the fuck it is and contemplate ignoring it before you get up. Setting the ice cream down, you reach for your gun as you peek through the hole and see Javi.

When you open the door, Javier winces, knowing that you are pissed at him...rightly so...and he holds the flowers up for you to see. "Please don't shut the door." He pleads and you huff, pulling the door back after you try to slam it on him. Your eyes drift down to the roses and you scoff, "couldn't get a dozen?" You ask, wanting to act like a bitch, and Javier chuckles dryly, "yeah. Could only find one florist open and the flowers were split between me and another stupid bastard."

“Stupid is right.” You snort, hating that you are  already softening and opening the door wider so he can come in. “What are you doing here, Peña?” You demand. “Shouldn’t you be showing Gabby how you don’t need oysters to get it up?”

He walks into your apartment before you can tell him to get the fuck out and he sighs, “I was trying to make you jealous. I…I was jealous that you were out with Moore. I was jealous as fuck and I figured - it was fucking stupid. I wanted to make you jealous and I realized this entire situation is my fault because I should’ve asked you to dinner before all of this happened but I was a coward. I’m terrified to - to make this real because if something happens to you, I won’t forgive myself and I don’t know if I’d be able to handle it. I think I’d kill every sicario in Colombia with my bare hands if anything happened to you and that scares the shit out of me. To know that you are the person I love the most…to lose you. It would kill me. I thought if I acted like you didn’t mean anything to me that you’d get sick of my shit and move on and when that happened - I couldn’t handle it.” He rambles more than you’ve ever heard since you met him and he inhales deeply when he’s done.

You inhale sharply, eyes wide at his confession. “You love me?” You whisper and he nods, shifting nervously as he still holds the six roses in his hand like a lifeline. Reaching out, you slap at his chest. “You love me?” You hiss, although it’s more out of frustration than anger. “You love me and you let me think that I meant nothing to you? Just an easy fuck you didn’t have to pay for and you love me?”

Javier shakes his head, "I was trying to protect you. Jesus Christ, I thought - I thought I was protecting you from my bullshit. I didn't want to hurt you but I did anyway and I - I am sorry." He promises, "hermosa...I want you. I love you, but if you want me to go. I'll go."

“I don’t want you to go.” You slap his chest again and your hand rests there as you look into your eyes. “But I don’t want to be your second choice.” You admit softly. “You’ve already been with Gabby today. I don’t-“ you break off, unsure how to explain you didn’t want to have sloppy seconds.

"I didn't fuck her. I haven't...not since before we started having sex." He promises, "I wouldn't do that to you. Especially since we haven't used a condom. I am many things but I am not that big of an asshole." He shrugs one shoulder, shuffling the roses in his hand.

“You didn’t?” You frown in confusion. “You said that she had helped you relax.” You remind him. “Only fucking time I’ve ever seen you relaxed is right after you’ve cum.”

Javier can't help but blush a little, ducking his chin, "I didn't - she just let me talk about anything and everything. She didn't even hug me. I vented and asked if she would go to dinner with me." He confesses, "I wanted to make you jealous." He sighs, "and I was being a prick."

You wilt at his embarrassed confession. He had just tried to make you jealous. “It worked.” You admit. “I was furious, and jealous. I wanted to claw Gabby’s eyes out, and I like Gabby.” You’ve talked to the prostitute many times, double checking on intel Javi’s received or just checking on her woman to woman. You know she’s in a rough line of work.

Javier’s heart jerks at the news that you were jealous of Gabby. “She’s one of the best.” He agrees, “and she told me it was a stupid idea. It was stupid. I love you, baby. I should’ve told you that long ago and I should’ve taken you to dinner tonight. Can you give me another chance? Dinner tomorrow?”

You bite your lip, watching his eyes. They are dark and worried that you might say no. “I had honestly expected you to say something like you would buy me a hot dog.” You admit with a small laugh. It’s something of an inside joke because every time you worked late at Steve’s apartment, Connie would make you hot dogs. It was an innocent joke and some levity that you all sorely needed. “I don’t need anything fancy.”

Javier chuckles and shakes his head, "you're worth more than a hot dog." He promises, "you are everything. I want to show you that." He steps closer, unsure if you want him to touch you or if you need some space.

“Then show me.” You challenge him, biting back a smirk. You reach out and take his hand. “I love you, Javier.” You murmur softly.

Javier sets the flowers down on your table and pulls you into him. He smiles as he leans in to softly kiss you. "I love you, hermosa." He promises, pressing his lips to yours again to deepen the kiss.

You wind your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you as you let him take control. Moaning softly when he licks into your mouth, the previous anger and upset forgotten as his mouth fuses to yours.

Javier groans as his tongue slides against yours. His hands are greedy as they squeeze your ass and he missed you. As ridiculous as it sounds, he’s missed you during the time you were fighting. He guides you backwards through your apartment to your bedroom and his hands immediately find the zipper of your dress, pulling it down. You let it drop to the floor without hesitation and Javier pulls back to look at you. “Lingerie? Was this for that prick?”

“It was for myself.” You shrug, knowing that it’s not necessary to worry about it now. “But if I felt like I could have gone through with it….” You honestly don’t know if you would have been able to sleep with Thomas, but now you are able to stand in front of the man you had envisioned when putting it on.

Javier growls, jealousy making his heart clench, "well, he ain't gonna see this. Only I get to see you looking this fucking sexy." He commands, grabbing your ass to lift you onto the bed.

Your squeal of surprise turns into a giggle as he drops you on the bed. “Is that right?” You prop up on your elbows and smirk at him. “You think I look sexy like this, baby?”

He chuckles, nodding at you, and he fingers the lace of your bra. "Goddamn mouthwatering." He promises, "not that you aren't always the sexiest woman in the damn city but you look like a fucking dessert right now." He murmurs, bending down to take your nipple into his mouth through the lace.

You whimper at the wet heat of his mouth on you. Moaning softly when he runs his tongue over the entire area to wet it more. “Javi- fuck.” You run your fingers through his hair and sigh blissfully when he climbs on top of you and you feel the weight of him on top of you again. “Want you naked.”

He chuckles against your breast, sucking on your nipple, and you whine. Your protest makes him lean back on his haunches and he unbuttons his shirt, exposing his chest for your hungry eyes. He shrugs it off and shuffles off the bed so he can kick off his shoes and unbutton his pants. His half hard cock exposed when he shoves them down and kicks them aside.

“I love that you never wear underwear.” You eye his cock greedily. He’s impressive even when he’s not fully hard, just overall beautiful in your opinion. And now you know that he is all yours.

Javier kneels on the bed again, leaning down to kiss your stomach, and his hands caress your thighs. He wants to taste you. Be wants to hear you cry his name. He kisses down to your mound, nuzzling his nose against the lace covering it, and he shifts lower, pushing your thighs apart so he can press a soft kiss to your clit through the material.

“Javi.” It’s not like you haven’t had oral. Javi hasn’t been selfish when you’ve been together. It’s more than fucking has taken priority over oral. He’s the type of man who would rather be inside your pussy than in your mouth. “You don’t have to.”

He smirks as he looks up at you while he hooks his fingers into the crotch so he can pull them aside. “I know.” He promises before he leans in to slide his tongue through your folds. The tip of his tongue flicks over your clit and he loves the way you cry out and your fingers tangle in his hair.

Shivers race through your body as he dives into you. Javier never does things by half and he feels like he is trying to devour you, pussy first. His tongue alternates between running along your folds and flicking over your clit with teasing, playful motions. It makes you moan as you grind your hips down on his face.

He loves the way you grind onto his face and he moans when you tug on his hair to push his face deeper into your pussy. He sucks your clit into his mouth, loving the way you squeal, and his cock aches as he grinds slowly into the mattress.

He’s obviously trying to kill you. You pant softly as he works his tongue deeper inside you after finally letting your clit go. “Fuck, Javi.” You moan. “So good baby, you make me feel so good.”

Your moan goes straight to his cock and he hisses into your pussy, making your hips jerk. His hands squeeze your thighs, pushing them further apart, and he loves the way you moan his name. He wants to push you over the edge.

All you can hear is Javi lapping at your cunt and your answering moans. Everything outside is muted, forgotten. Even Pablo Escobar and your hunt for him is pushed aside for the way every flick of his tongue makes you want to weep in bliss. “So close, baby, I’m gonna cum.” You babble through the sounds of praise, rocking desperately against his tongue. “Gonna cum!”

You cry out moments later, your thighs squeezing his head, and he groans as he eagerly laps up your slick. His cock now throbbing into the sheets and he works you through until you’re pushing his head away. He kisses your mound, hooking his fingers in the lace panties to drag them down your legs.

“I need you to fuck me.” You are reaching for him, lunging up and pressing your lips to his. Not caring that he tastes like you, that his lips are still wet with your juices. Your hand wraps around his cock and you groan into his mouth when you feel the precum that has beaded up. “I need you right now baby. More than I need air.” 

He feels like he’s gonna explode if he doesn’t fuck you. He groans when you squeeze his cock and shuffles closer. “Fuck, hermosa. I’m here. I’m here.” He promises, letting you guide his cock to your entrance and he slowly starts to push into you. “Goddamn.” He hisses, shifting to his forearms and he ducks his head down to kiss you.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect. Your nails are shorter than you’d want, but they still dig into the meat of his shoulders as he presses into you. Filling you up with a steady determination that has you letting out a curse. “Fuuuuuuuck.” You whine. “No one ever filled me up like you do. So fucking thick.” You praise breathlessly. “Feels like you’re in my fucking guts when you are pounding away.”

Javier twitches inside you at your breathless praise and he loves it. "Baby. Shit. Baby." He pants, starting to move and he kisses along your neck, "so goddamn tight and - and so fucking perfect." He grunts, knowing he's not usually one for talking during sex but you always have him rambling.

You hold him close, letting him set the pace. The sex is still perfect. Maybe more so since you know there is love behind every kiss and roll of Javi’s hips. “You are perfect.” You moan. “Even when you piss me off, I want you.”

He chuckles, kissing your jaw, "that's a good thing because I know it happens a lot." You smirk and he bites your lip, dragging it as he thrusts harder, making you whine. He releases your lip and kisses you, "you are everything. Gotta keep you safe. I'll burn this entire fucking place down to find Escobar if anything happens to you." He vows, "but that ain't gonna happen because I won't let it." He promises against your lips.

“It won’t happen.” You promise breathlessly, rocking your hips up to meet his pace. You can’t guarantee it, but you do everything you can to come home every day. “I love you, Javi.”

"Love you too." He murmurs, shifting to bury his face in your neck. He breathes in your perfume, rocking his hips, and he shifts to his knees and you cry out at the change in angle. He groans at the way you clench around him so he focuses on that angle, wanting to feel you cum for him.

It doesn’t take long for that knot to coil in your stomach. So close to cumming that your thighs tighten around him, afraid he might pull away. “Baby-“ his next thrust pushes you over the edge and you clamp down around his lengths, crying out wordlessly.

When you cum, he groans into your skin, working you through it, and he rocks into you until you stop shaking beneath him. He slides his hands under your ass, lifting you as he shuffles onto his haunches, and he sinks deeper into your pussy. "Shit, hermosa." He pants, starting to rock you on top of his cock.

You whine in agreement. He feels so good inside you. You lean up on your elbows and watch as he fucks you. “Sometime I wonder how you fit.” You moan, clenching down around him and making him hiss in pleasure. “So fucking thick.”

“You take every inch. Like you’re made for me.” He promises, watching his cock disappear inside your dripping cunt. He grunts, getting lost in the sensation, and his eyes flick up to yours. “You’re perfect.” He promises, slowing his pace. He wants you to cum again for him. “How do you want it?” He asks, wanting you to decide how you cum next.

Your brow furrows for a moment, unsure of what he means until it dawns on you. “Hands and knees.” You beg. “I want you to wreck me. Make me realize that I’m still alive. I could have died today.”

How can he deny you when you remind him of what he nearly lost. He nods, pulling out of you, and you shuffle onto your hands and knees. He groans, squeezing your ass and spreading your cheeks. He can’t help it, he leans down to spit onto your puckered hole, watching it slide between your cheeks until it pools at your cunt. “Amor.” He murmurs, gripping his cock and shuffling closer until he’s pushing into you again .

Your gasp is needy, already rocking your hips back when he fills you. You need this, desperate to feel alive and like you are not alone. That you have him. Your fingers dig into the sheets and you moan his name. “Javi.”

Javier grips your hips, dragging you back onto his cock as he thrusts deep. Your cry makes him chuckle and he smacks your ass, watching it jiggle. "Fuck. You're here." He promises, "and I am yours. You're mine. This pussy is mine."

“Yours, baby.” You echo, eyes rolling back as he drives into you. “All yours, just yours.” You are his, despite trying to get over him. You’ll never get over Javier Peña. “Fuck, baby, mooooore.”

He grunts, wrapping his arm around your waist, and he drags you up and back into his chest. He kisses your shoulder, nipping the skin as he thrusts into you in a new angle.

You turn your head and kiss along his jaw, holding on as he makes your tits shake as he fucks you. “Kiss me.” You beg, wanting his lips on yours. “Javi, kiss me.”

Javier groans your name before he kisses you. He thrusts deep and hard, wanting you to feel every inch of him, to make sure you feel alive. His tongue slides against yours and it's sloppy but he twitches inside you at how good it feels.

Your hands grab at his, holding you tight and he curls his fingers through yours. Holding your hand as both of you try to race towards the finish line as quickly as you can with every thrust.

Javier groans into your mouth, no longer kissing just exchanging air, and he breathes you in like a man needing oxygen. You are his lifeline. He squeezes your hand over your breast, grunts escaping through his gritted teeth as he works you higher. He needs you to cum for him now.

Your eyes close and every push of his hips rockets you closer. Spearing up into your soaking walls with devastating accuracy until you are stiffening in his arms. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Javi!” You cry out. “Jaaaaaaviiiiiiii!”

Javi groans when you clamp down onto his cock and practically scream his name, making him hiss. He pants, wrapping his other arm around you to keep you close and he pushes up into you, pace sloppy and fast as he seeks his orgasm. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He growls and finally he lets out a low groan as he pulses inside you. He paints your walls, eyes squeezed shut as his orgasm surges through him.

Javi lets you collapse forward, following you and pressing you down to the bed. Both of you are panting and trying to catch your breath. “I love you.” You murmur softly, smiling to yourself as his spent cock twitches inside you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Javier.”

Javier smiles, “I promise to take you out for an actual dinner tomorrow. And every night from now on, I’ll show you how much I love you, hermosa.” He vows, leaning in to kiss your neck after he shifts you both to your side.

“As long as we are together, I don’t care what we do.” You promise, reaching out and caressing his cheek. “Stay the night?” You ask softly, knowing that he might still want to go home and sleep on his own bed. He normally did after fucking you.

He nods, curling around you after his cock falls from your soaked cunt. “I’ll stay the night.” He promises, “and I gotta put the roses in water.” He teases, making you giggle. “Happy Valentine’s Day, hermosa.” He murmurs between kisses on your shoulder. “One to remember.” You hum and he hums against your skin. He’s made many mistakes since he arrived in Colombia but he’s not going to lose you. Not again.

[aureatelys]

can't lose when i'm with you

pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner/fem!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 7k a/n: happy valentines day! this idea came to me as a joke but then i couldnt stop thinking about it. also i know nothing about golf or country clubs so sorry in advance if i got anything wrong.

summary: You work as a beverage cart girl at your local country club and your dad ropes you in to make him look good during a business meeting with his new best friend.

content warnings: 18+ MDNI PLEASE, dbf!hotch so age gap, kinda flirty!reader, porn with no plot, dry humping on a golf cart yessir, semi public sex, m masturbation, some dirty talk, men (not hotch) being gross and touchy

read below or here on ao3 here <3

You’ve been working as a beverage cart girl at your dad’s country club for the past several months to save money for school. At first, the bluntness of some of these older men flirting with you caught you off guard, but after you got your first $100 tip just from serving a group of three men a couple of beers and flashed them a smile, you were hooked. Flirting was part of the job, which became easier and easier for you the more shifts you took.

After all, it was easy money—refilling the drinks in the coolers, driving around a well-kept golf course while underneath the shade of the cart, and handing out drinks with a little smile and a hair flip. Sometimes, you even sat nearby and cheered Ted on as he hobbled over to take his shot.

You even got to add some personal touches to your beloved cart—a pink fuzzy steering wheel cover, a blush pink sheet covering the leather seats so your thighs would stop sticking to them, a pillow in the shape of a heart for your back, and a cute miniature disco ball hanging from the roof because old people love to pretend like they can party again.

And the men weren’t too bad. You’ve had a few run ins with some on the handsier side, or ones that straight up asked to have sex with you, but luckily your manager dealt a swift and heavy hand and you never saw them again. Otherwise, the customers were mostly decent, as long as you were okay with some heavy flirting and generous eye-fucking.

It’s a typical busy Saturday when you meet Aaron.

You knew your dad was having some sort of “business meeting” with the highly decorated FBI agent he’s been recently obsessed and hanging out with, and he knew that you were mentioned the most in the country club’s Google reviews. He wanted you to put him in a good mood, which was basically in your job description. You didn’t mind since your father promised a hefty tip for you at the end.

You spot them a few yards away—your father’s lucky red hat, muted in color due to wear and tear, and another man nearly a foot taller standing near him. You call out for them and speed your way there in your rickety little cart when your dad waves to you.

When you pull up next to them, it looks like they’ve just finished Hole 2, which means this would be absolute prime time for you if they were typical customers.

“Hey boys,” you call out. You’re about to ask them if they’re thirsty when you get a good look at your dad’s friend.

He’s tall, almost outrageously so with how far you have to crane your neck to look at him. He’s also ridiculously handsome; strong brows, intense eyes, and floppy hair that looked so soft you craved running your hands through them. Wide shoulders, thick arms, and a little soft around the middle in a way that made something flutter in your stomach.

He was definitely not your typical customer.

“Hey sweetie!” Your dad comes to give you a kiss on the top of your head. “I didn’t know you were working today.”

He’s such a good actor, you think as you beam up at him. “And I didn’t know you were going golfing today. You guys thirsty?”

“Absolutely! I’ll take a beer, how about you, Aaron?”

“A water is fine.” Christ, even his voice is hot—low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You make your way to the cooler in the back, squinting as soon as you’re out from the shade and into the blazing sun. “A beer and a water for my two most handsome guys coming right up!”

As always, your dad laughs, but when you peek a glance out of the corner of your eye from where you’re bent over, half of your body basically in the cooler as you fish out a water bottle, Aaron was wearing an obviously practiced neutral expression.

You finally find the bottle, your hand nearly going numb from how much ice you had to dig through, and hand it to Aaron with a grin. “Here you go.”

He meets your gaze and you’re drawn to the pretty brown sugar shade of his eyes. “Thank you.” He’s polite, not even a smile gracing his lips before he’s twisting the cap off and tipping his head back to take a long swig.

You swear your throat goes dry at the tantalizingly long line of his neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing. You’re able to get a closer look at him this way— the sharp cut of his jaw, the way the tight red polo was stretching over his broad shoulders, and the way his hands were so large it made the water bottle look almost comically small.

Your father’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. “Aaron, this is my daughter. Sweetie, this is Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief of the BAU I told you about?”

Boy, have you heard about him—your dad hasn’t shut up about him over the past month, talking about how he’s such a great guy, how he’s been at the Bureau for over a decade, and how he’s been bragging about his golfing skills and that the two of them just had to play some time.

You don’t exactly remember what today’s meeting was about, something about implementing a new training program to his agents? Either way, he had hoped you would use your spectacular customer service to help his odds, but you’re sure he wasn’t hoping for you to have the thoughts you were currently having that involved his hands on your hips and your mouth pressed against his throat.

A ringtone blares, nearly making you jump, and you watch as your father steps away to take a call.

You put on your best customer service smile and put your hand out, pink nails glinting underneath the sun. “Nice to meet you, Aaron. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Something quirks at the corner of Aaron’s mouth as he puts his hand in yours. You try not to pay attention to how his hand nearly dwarfs yours or how you could feel the rough calluses on his fingers. “You as well.”

“Unit chief, huh?” you ask, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. “I bet that’s a really stressful job. You should come visit me more. To de-stress.”

And it’s like Aaron’s face transforms into something softer, younger. You watch in delight as his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, mouth twisting in an effort to hide an amused smile. “Should I now?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say, leaning your hip against your cart. You’re suddenly glad you wore your shortest tennis skirt and sleeveless top that emphasized your cleavage quite well today. “I’m here almost every day and we close at 6.”

His body turns towards you, stepping in closer. You think you catch the faintest whiff of his woodsy cologne, breaking through the freshly cut grass smell. “Is that why your dad was so adamant about going golfing today? So his daughter could flirt his way into me approving his training curriculum?”

An incredulous laugh nearly bubbles out of you at his instant ability to read through you despite only knowing each other less than 5 minutes. You assume he’s the unit chief for a reason.

“Is it working?”

He says nothing for a moment, just looking you up and down in a way that made you want to shift, though not uncomfortably. He studies you and your pristine white sneakers, the hem of your tennis skirt brushing against the warm expanse of your thighs, and your hair in a high ponytail. He glances at the cannisters of edible glitter and mini umbrellas on your bev cart. You see his eyes dance with amusement when he notices the mini disco ball swinging from your roof.

When he looks back at you, eyebrows relaxed, the professional flat line of his mouth was gone and instead replaced with something more private. “Yes.”

Excitement settles in your chest, light and golden. You feel your face flush out of your own accord and hope you can blame the summer sun beating down on you and not your father’s coworker, no more than 20 years older than you, flirting with you.

Your father suddenly appears right around Aaron’s shoulder, always with impeccable timing. He looks just as flushed as you feel, sweat building at his hairline while Aaron looks impossibly dry despite the humidity. “Ready to move onto the next hole, Hotch?”

And just like that, Aaron’s face smoothly changes to polite professionalism and not like you were seconds away from throwing your arms around his neck. He nods and gives you a courteous smile, something playful tugging at his lips. “It was nice to meet you.”

When your father fishes through his wallet to pay for the drinks, and hopefully your tip as well, Aaron lays a hand over his before he’s pulling out his own from his back pocket. “I got it,” he says, before handing you two crisp $100 bills.

“Oh,” you say before you could help yourself. And because it’s Aaron, whom you’ve never met before and not like your other customers, you didn’t feel quite comfortable in taking his money. Yet. “This more than pays for the drinks…”

He shakes his head and pushes the money towards you. “I know.”

You take his money, solely because you don’t want to cause a scene when your father was already stuttering over himself in an attempt to still cover the bill himself. You notice how thick his fingers are over the folded bills and ignore the warmth tingling up your spine when your fingers brush against his.

“Thank you, Aaron.” You don’t miss the way his eyes barely narrow at the sound of his name from your lips or the imperceptible clench of his hand at his side.

You try to hide the smirk threatening to show on your face when you get back into your cart, your silly keychains hanging from the ignition clinking with the action. You put your cart in drive and look over your shoulder at Aaron, your father’s attention already enraptured by the phone in his hand.

“See you around, handsome.”

You think you see a faint hint of pink at the tips of Aaron’s ears before you drive away.

-

You don’t see Aaron for several weeks.

You try not to let it bother you, starting to come to terms with the possibility that he just wasn’t interested in you or that you were too young and juvenile for him. So what if you’ve been picking up more shifts lately, just in case he decided to show up? Or spending your entire paycheck on cute outfits that hug you in all the right places? That isn’t anyone else’s business except yours.

So it’s totally because you’ve been bored all day when you let out a squeak of excitement at the text you get from your dad letting you know that him and Aaron were on their way to the country club.

It’s a slow Thursday afternoon, which means the men that do show up to play, clearly avoiding their wives, believe they can keep you around at their beck and call. A group of 3 older gentlemen who were somewhat regulars had asked you to drive them around in your golf cart despite regulations not allowing customers to catch a ride, but they’ve already racked up hundreds of dollars in drinks, so you’re sure your boss wouldn’t mind.

They’re also a little touchy, wanting to teach you how to play so they have an excuse to put their hands on your hips and not so subtly cop a feel, but their usual tips at the end of the day easily pays for half of your rent. So, you play along by flipping your hair over your shoulder a bit, maybe even acting a little ditsy when they talk about golf as if your dad hadn’t thrown you in lessons as soon as you were able to hold a club.

That’s why you’ve been sitting behind your wheel entertaining grandpa for the past 30 minutes, his friends actually focused on the game, as he rattles on about his ex-wife, how he’s currently looking for a younger girl to take out, and the best way to move your hips when you shoot.

“If you stand up, I can show you how,” he says hoarsely, standing so closely you can smell not only the acrid scent of beer that he’s been sipping on but also the general musty smell of old people you’ve unfortunately become familiar with.

You fake a laugh, even playing it up by leaning forward and patting his wrinkled hand from where it’s inching closer and closer to you on the headrest. “Oh, Jerry, I don’t think we have time for that. I have to make my rounds.”

When you spot Aaron and your father driving over the hill, the rattle of the shitty golf carts a familiar tune, you immediately lock gazes with him. It’s like watching a movie in slow motion the way you’re able to discern when Aaron notices the older man’s close proximity and your clear uncomfortable posture— his eyebrows drawing up in barely concealed shock before knitting in concern, eyes narrowing.

You let out a breathless laugh at the silent rage, plain as day, before scooting out through the other side of the cart and away from Jerry and his beady eyes.

“Where you going, hot stuff?” Ew.

You put on your sweet customer service smile, often used to placate the rowdier men, before you brush away imaginary dust and start throwing away the trash left on your cart. “Jerry! I still have to do my job!”

You’re relieved when Jerry finally takes the hint and shuffles away towards his golf bag that he left near the teeing area just as Aaron and your father pull up next to you with a screech, giving you a slight breeze. When Aaron steps out of the cart, the most mundane action in the world, he looks unfairly attractive. You stare at the slight flex of his biceps when he holds onto the roof of the cart before tearing yourself away and turning towards your dad.

“How are my two favorite guys?” you tease, giving your dad a hug when he opens his arms out.

“I don’t know about Hotch but I’m ready to kick his ass,” your dad laughs, patting Aaron’s back like they’re suddenly best friends. Which is almost true, seeing as how your dad has somehow become even more obsessed with him, having not stopped talking about losing to him several weeks ago and has evidently somehow roped him into another day on the course.

“Well, I don’t think I should choose sides,” you giggle and glance at Aaron. He’s squinting at you, as if you’re speaking a completely different language, his expression still strained and posture tense.  

You smile at him and give him a cheery little wave. “Hi Aaron.”

“Hi,” he says slowly, shoulders slowly relaxing, and hearing his voice makes you breathless all over again. “Are you okay?”

And it’s sweet, the obvious way Aaron is checking in on you as if you don’t do this every day. Truthfully, you’re used to it and it’s not like the men take it too far. You’re more focused on the fact that this is your second time meeting Aaron and he’s already concerned about your wellbeing and personal space like the true gentleman he is.  

You almost want to tease, poke fun at him, but then you remember your father standing mere inches away who probably wouldn’t like you flirting so unabashedly with his friend/coworker.

Instead, you roll your eyes and head towards your cart. “I’m fine. So, what can I get for you, handsome?”

You’re pulling up the POS on your iPad when you notice Aaron hasn’t answered yet. You turn to lean your hip against your cart, meeting his gaze steadily from where he’s studying you.

You decide to blatantly look him up and down— drinking in the fitted dark green polo, showing off the veins decorating his forearms, and black slacks, making him appear taller and hanging enticingly low on his hips. His hair is tousled from the wind and you notice some gray dusting at his sideburns. And then there’s something about the Rolex on his wrist, God, he’s so hot.

Aaron notices you checking him out, because of course he does. His eyes barely flicker down your body, not quite taking the same liberty as you, but you feel want curling in your stomach when he licks his lips.

“A gin and tonic sounds great, sweetie,” your father says, once again interrupting your thoughts, before he’s immediately launching into a ramble regarding what you assume is some office gossip.

“A water is fine,” Aaron says in between your dad’s breaths. He gives you a sheepish little twitch of the mouth that you shouldn’t find so endearing before he turns to give your dad his full attention.

You make your dad’s drink, the motions automatic and familiar, before you’re opening the cooler and bending over to reach a water bottle at the very bottom. You weren’t really doing it on purpose this time, too focused on getting the coldest bottle at the bottom of the cooler for him, but you still feel a thrill run up your spine when you hear a choked cough behind you.

At least you chose a skort today and not a skirt, though you’re sure it still doesn’t leave much room for the imagination with its flimsy white fabric.

A smirk tugs at your lips, hidden by the cooler, before you turn around with a polite smile and drinks in your hands. Maybe you weren’t wrong about being too juvenile for Aaron after all. “Here you guys are.”

When Aaron’s fingers brush against yours, something hot twists itself into your stomach and settles in between your thighs. You meet his gaze and notice his eyes, dark and almost predatory, pupils nearly completely blown.

You distantly hear your name being called through the blood rushing in your ears. When you break from the hold Aaron’s stare has on you and turn to where the sound came from, you spot Jerry still standing near his golf bag. He and his friends evidently still haven’t taken their shots and moved on yet, instead beckoning you over with a wave as if you were some bumbling waitress.

“Well, duty calls,” you feign a sigh. When you turn back around, Aaron’s wearing an almost petulant frown as he watches Jerry continue calling for you.

“We’ll see you around, pumpkin,” your dad says before slapping a $50 dollar bill in your hand, tutting at Aaron when he starts to pull out his wallet. “Let’s get a move on.”

And then he’s walking away, once again leaving you and Aaron alone.

You move to clean up your cart from where you made your drink, expecting Aaron to silently follow your father and not seeing him for several weeks again. You’re pleasantly surprised, maybe even a little smug, when you hear Aaron clear his throat, as if unsure what to say. And wouldn’t that be something—causing a unit chief of the FBI to hesitate.

“You get off at 6, right?”

A lazy grin blooms across your face as you meet Aaron’s eyes. He appears composed, stoic, but you can see the uncertainty swimming in his eyes, the frown still tugging at his lips as if he can’t get the thought of you with Jerry off his mind. He’s rubbing his thumb across his fingers and you wonder how it would feel on the bare skin of your hips.

“I sure do,” you chirp. “I’ll see you then?”

You can tell that Aaron wasn’t expecting you to give him another chance at backing out. His eyebrows raise in surprise, similarly to how they did when he first met you, like he thought he had you all figured out.

“See you then.”

-

Although you’re stuck with Jerry and his friends for the next 3 hours, you can feel the heavy weight of Aaron’s watchful eyes on your back the entire time. There were even several moments where you thought he was going to burn a hole in the back of your head, or especially Jerry’s, every time he put his clammy hands on yours to help you with a swing or at the small of your back.

And so what if you played it up a little, knowing that you barely knew Aaron but you were already digging your way under his skin?

Knowing Aaron was only several yards away, you laughed extra hard at Jerry’s jokes and bent over a little more every time you set the ball on the tee. It was exhilarating, playful in a way you’ve never felt before. You couldn’t deny that noticing the carnal way Aaron reacted to you, how he stared at you like he wanted to eat you alive, didn’t get you all hot and bothered. You’re sure the wetness between your legs was proof enough.

By the time 6 o’clock finally rolls around and you’re pulling up to the extra storage shed at the back of the country club, your wallet has grown a couple hundred dollars more and your cart’s glove box has gained a couple more slips of paper with phone numbers to gather dust in.

You’ve just finished unloading your cart and cleaning out your shelves when you hear another cart pulling up behind you. When you turn and realize that it’s Aaron, that he actually showed up, you feel giddy in a way you haven’t felt since you were a teenager.

“Hey you,” you say over the stack of crates you’re trying to organize. “Let me finish up real quick and then we can go.” Go where, you have no idea, but you’re sure the two of you will figure it out.

“Do you need any help?” he asks, standing so close to you now you can get a full whiff of his cologne. It’s something woodsy and warm that settles comfortably in your chest.

Any other day, you would’ve taken up his offer if only as an excuse to see him lifting crates of drinks and drooling over the way his arms would surely nearly burst out of his sleeves, but you’re honestly almost done and ready to get the hell out of here. “I’m almost done, I promise. But next time you can help so you can show off.”

Aaron immediately rolls his eyes, but you watch with glee as something quirks at the corner of his lips. “Yes, I sat in my car in the parking lot and waited for you just to show off.”

Damn, he is so cute when he’s actually making jokes with you.

You put away all of the cleaning products and lock the door before you’re stepping out to stand in front of Aaron where he’s hovering near your cart.

When you crane your neck to look up at him, you’re suddenly aware of how alone the two of you are, tucked away in a secluded area at the back of the country club where only employees have access to. The two of you are surrounded by trees, thankfully shielding you from the sun, and there’s only one path in and out of the area. The near constant drone of cicadas would be almost annoying if your attention wasn’t all focused on Aaron.

“So, why did you wait for me then?”

And just like that, Aaron’s eyes darken and he clenches his jaw. Now that there was nobody else around, teasing him almost felt like you were poking at a grumpy bear. A cute and very hot bear, but a bear, nonetheless.

“So I can do this.”

And then he’s placing a gentle hand on your waist, hot despite your already sun-kissed skin, and leaning in slowly, as if giving you the chance to back out in case he was reading your signals wrong.

You don’t think you could’ve laid it on thicker, so you meet him halfway to finally press your mouths together.

His lips are soft and he smells like sunscreen, and the way he kisses you is so tender it makes your chest tighten just a little. But it’s not enough.

You step closer into him, throwing your arms around his neck, and deepen the kiss. You catch him by surprise, detecting the exasperated smile against your mouth, but then his hand tightens its grip on your hip and he’s pulling you until you’re pressed flushed up against him.

You can feel the muscles in his chest and the softness of his stomach this way, and it’s so fucking delicious you can’t help the moan that comes out of your mouth and into his.

It’s like a dam breaks loose because Aaron groans into your mouth, now causing you to smile, and then he’s spinning you around until he’s sitting in your golf cart and you’re planted right on his lap, straddling him with your knees on either side of his hips and the steering wheel digging into the small of your back.

You gasp in surprise, nearly dizzy with the action, but it melts into a breathy moan when Aaron’s hands run all over you—down your back, your hips, the flesh of your thighs, and then grabbing onto your ass so hard it just pushes you further into his lap. The barely there friction of his belt buckle against your pussy from the movement has you rolling your eyes back into your head, causing you to cant your hips forward again to chase the sharp pleasure twisting in your stomach.

“You’re so,” he mutters under his breath, face tucked between your breasts as he attempts to press open-mouthed kisses against the skin exposed by your black work polo. “Pretty.”

Then he’s lifting up your shirt until it gathers underneath your arms, just enough so he can move the band of your sports bra up so he could put his warm, wet mouth on the underside of your breasts. You know you must smell like sweat and sunscreen, your clothes still sticking to you, but that seems to just spur Aaron on as he moves up to suck a nipple into his mouth, flicking it repeatedly with his tongue.

“Aaron…” you exhale, pushing your chest into him to chase the wet heat of his mouth as he continues alternating sucking and licking at your nipples, hardening nearly immediately under him. It feels so fucking divine, you don’t think having your nipples played with has ever felt this good. You don’t even want to think about where else he can use his mouth. “Not here…”

He pulls back from your breasts and you’re mesmerized by the spit-slick shine of his lips as he meets your gaze from below you. His hands immediately come to replace his mouth, initially groping at you until thick fingers are grazing over your nipples before gently pinching. “There’s a banquet going on at the front of the club so no one’s coming back here.”

You have to bite your lip to prevent a whimper at the hot pleasure-pain from your breasts, your own hands coming up to tug at the damp hair on the back of his neck. Aaron groans at that, a sound coming deep from within his chest, and he jerkily thrusts his hips up as if they moved of their own accord.

You can feel the line of his hard cock against your inner thigh, so close to where you desperately want him, and your patience wanes thin for just a moment. Of course Aaron checked out the club first before coming back to meet you, as if he was planning on ambushing you behind the country club the entire time.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” Aaron says, voice tight as if he was holding himself back from taking you right there on your golf cart with the fuzzy pink blanket on the seat and fairy lights hanging from the dashboard.

You’re tempted take him up on his offer and stop; climbing off his lap and inviting him back to your apartment so you can moan and scream all you want in your very comfortable bed, because Aaron seems like the type of man to want to hear every single noise.

But the thought of both of you being so desperate that you can’t help but rut against each other behind a fancy country club, where you’re at risk of anyone walking around the building and finding you? With your shirt rolled up and Aaron’s fingers nearly pressing bruises against your hips? You really should not find that as intoxicating and hot as you do.

It’s going to be uncomfortable, with the summer sun just barely moving to set over the horizon and your golf cart sometimes being too small even for you. You feel sweat already forming on your upper lip and hair sticking to your neck, internally hitting yourself for not buying that $5 fan that mounts on your dash.

Yet, as you look down at Aaron from where he’s propped his chin on your chest to meet your gaze, somehow looking both cute and ridiculously hot, you knew you couldn’t back out.

“Okay,” you whisper, grinning down at him before your fingers intertwine with his hair again to lean his head back and kiss him.

You think Aaron chuckles but you’re already swallowing it, shuffling somehow closer until the entire line of your body is against his. The top of your head keeps bumping into the roof of the cart and your thighs are already burning from the uncomfortable position of sitting up, but just then you angle your hips differently when you drop down and his bulge rubs against your clit in a way that has you sucking in a sharp breath.

“Fuck, you’d look so pretty riding on my cock,” Aaron breathes against your lips, the grip he has on your waist tightening as he starts to move you up and down on his lap. “I bet you’re so wet for me.”

His left hand trails down your thigh, moving inward, and you squirm when you feel his thick fingers pressing against your cunt, wetness already seeping through your panties and the shorts of your tennis skirt. He briefly rubs through down your slit, spreading the wetness around and causing the fabric to cling to you.

“Is this all for me, pretty girl?” he murmurs, not even giving you the chance to answer before he’s moving the fabric aside to press his hot fingers against your soaked cunt.

You let out a long moan at finally being touched, the ache between your thighs becoming unbearable. You try to angle your hips in an effort to get more of his fingers on you, maybe even inside of you, but Aaron annoyingly avoids your hole and instead intently traces them gently through your folds before moving up to rub circles against your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, eyes nearly fluttering shut and your thighs trembling as the tight coil in the pit of your stomach builds so fast it knocks the breath out of you.

Aaron hums. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod, at a loss for words as you chase the building pressure. He rubs your clit agonizingly slow, like he wants to prolong this as he intently studies your reactions.

You’re about to beg him to hurry up when he stops and removes his fingers from underneath your skirt. Your breath stutters at the loss of sensation until you notice Aaron holding his hand up to eye-level.

His thick fingers are obscenely drenched in your wetness, nearly glistening. You should feel embarrassed, that you’re so horny for him that you’re getting off at the possibility of being caught, but you don’t. In fact, noticing just how much Aaron is enjoying you enjoying yourself makes you feel even more flushed, more needy.

You lean in to bring his two fingers into your open mouth, swirling your tongue around the rough callouses as your own musky taste infiltrates your senses.

When you look down to meet his eyes, yours no doubt glossed over, he nearly growls as he yanks his fingers out of your mouth and kisses you, tongue prodding against yours. You feel a rumble from his chest as he chases the taste of your pussy in your mouth.

When he pulls back, he has a wild look in his eyes that does nothing to quell the fire in your stomach and the growing ache in your pussy. He runs his hands up and down your sides, nearly reverent, before thrusting his hips up so his cock presses against you. “Do you think you can come like this?”

Honestly, you think you could come in 30 seconds, with the way he grabs and moves your hips so deliciously you swear you could feel every inch of him, staring at you as if he couldn’t believe you were giving him the time of day.

“Yes,” you breath, and then Aaron is giving you a wicked grin, something dangerous in his eyes.

He moves you until you’re fully seated on his lap, giving your knees a break, and then moving you back and forth against his cock, the drag of his slacks against the fabric of your shorts rubbing deliciously against your clit, causing you to nearly choke on your own saliva.

You rest your forehead against his, both of you panting, as you start grinding against him. Even through the several layers of fabric, you can feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing in between your cunt and against your clit. You nearly feel dizzy, like the heat was getting to you, as your hands scramble to find purchase on his broad shoulders.

“Just like that, honey,” Aaron pants as you watch a droplet of sweat run down the side of his face through half-lidded eyes. “Make yourself come just like that.”

You’re shamelessly whimpering in between your moans now as you grind against him faster, the tightness in your core growing at the lewdness of his words. Aaron just lets you rut against him, essentially sitting still besides his hands on your hips helping you move back and forth. You feel the stickiness on your inner thighs, a mixture of sweat and your arousal, and you bet if you glanced down, there’d be a wet spot on his slacks. That image in your head sends you reeling and nearly over the edge, your thighs squeezing around his hips.

“Come on, sweetie.” Fuck, even the low tone of his voice adds to it, the raspiness giving away how just as equally turned on he was. Your chest is heaving, thighs trembling, and you’re so fucking close. “I can’t wait to fuck your pretty pussy later, make you come, over and over on my cock.”

Aaron rolls his hips then, and the new angle has the head of his cock pressing against your clit just so that has you gasping, back arching, and you finally fall over the edge as your orgasm hits you like a fucking train.

Your breath is knocked out of your chest, your eyes squeezing shut as you desperately chase the feeling of his cock against your clit as your clench around nothing. You distantly feel Aaron still grinding your hips back and forth as you ride it out, the tight hold he has on your hips just adding to your bliss. The repeated motions eventually become overstimulating, almost too much, but it deliciously adds to your aftershocks and causes you to release a choked whimper.

When you blearily blink your eyes open, Aaron is staring at you like he’s drinking you up, memorizing every little detail about you. The hair at his forehead is curling from the sweat and his face is tinged pink, but his eyes are a pretty molten brown and there’s something soft tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey handsome,” you say breathlessly, giving him a weary smile as you bring your hand up to wipe away the sweat on your own forehead. When you purse your lips, Aaron huffs a laugh and immediately leans in to give you a chaste kiss that does nothing to calm your racing heart.

You feel Aaron languidly move his hips up against you, making you hum against his mouth. When you look down, not only do you see the line of his cock where he’s still impossibly hard, but also a barely visible wet spot on his black slacks. From you.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, embarrassment burning hot on your ears.

“I’m not,” Aaron says before his hands come down to swiftly unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants and briefs until his cock springs free.

Your mouth instantly waters because fuck, is he big. He’s thick, a drop of precum beading at the slit with a delicious-looking prominent vein that runs on the underside that you can see when he wraps his left hand around his cock and starts jerking himself off.

“Do you want me to…” you trail off, your hands twitching from where they’re still on top of his shoulders and eyes zeroing in on his large hand on his cock.

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” he huffs. “I’m close, just sit there and look pretty.”

You think your brain short circuits, because no way is this man not only okay with you rutting up on him, but also got close enough to coming from watching you come? And now he doesn’t even want you to touch him, he’s okay with just looking at you as he gets himself off?

Your heart thumps erratically because Aaron looks like the absolute definition of sin; hair slightly damp and tousled, his bicep flexing from where he’s erratically jerking himself off, and his chest heaving deliciously. His lips are parted and he’s watching you with half-lidded eyes, your shirt still bunched under your arms and exposing your breasts and your aching thighs wrapped around him.

You lean back against the steering wheel, ignoring how it digs harder into your back, as you decide to flip up your skirt until your clothed cunt is exposed. The piece of fabric is nearly see-through with how wet you are, and you bite your lip when you bring a hand down to move the fabric aside and angle your hips up until your bare pussy was exposed.

Aaron lets out a strangled noise, and you watch in awe as his hand around his cock pumps faster until it’s nearly a blur. You look up to see his eyes trained on your pussy, wet and puffy. The squelching of him fucking into his own hand, so turned on that he was steadily leaking precum from the slit of his cock was so fucking filthy that you felt the beginning sparks of arousal tugging in your abdomen again.

“Are you going to come all over my pussy?” you whisper.

Aaron suddenly lets out a deep and guttural groan, his breath stuttering and hand stilling, before he comes with his head thrown back. You watch, mesmerized, as hot spurts of his come land on your bare pussy, some even catching on your folds as you clench around nothing.

It’s so fucking hot, he’s so fucking hot.

It’s silent while you both catch your breath, the mindless chirping of birds dwindling down as the sun finally starts to set and the air begins to slightly cool.

You pull your shirt down before you lean over to reach for the tissues you usually keep in your purse on the floor. The way you have to twist your body while still on Aaron’s lap is uncomfortable, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he helps you sit back up with hands on your sides.

He wordlessly takes the pack of tissues from your hand to clean you up. He’s meticulous, eyebrows almost comically furrowed in concentration as he makes sure you’re presentable again. When he’s done, he looks around for a trash can and, upon not finding one, he stuffs the tissues in his pocket. You give him a teasing disgusted look, to which Aaron responds by rolling his eyes.

When you climb off his lap with a groan, your hips and knees pop. You stretch your back out a bit by twisting your body back and forth and notice Aaron getting up as well, watching you with a confused, yet fond, expression.

“You’re too young for your body to crack like that.”

You laugh. “Whatever you say, grandpa.”

You’re suddenly being pulled into Aaron’s embrace with a squeal, an arm snaking around your waist, instinctively putting your hands up on his chest as you steady yourself.

“I think I’ve more than shown you that I’m not a grandpa,” he mutters, lowly and directly in your ear, making you nearly swoon against him.

You clear your throat, using him as leverage to push back at him until you’re able to meet his eyes. “Well, not-grandpa, would you be able to wash my cart blanket? Since it was your idea to dirty it up.”

You can tell Aaron is holding himself back from rolling his eyes again. Instead, he chuckles, letting you go so he could grab the fuzzy pink blanket that is actually most likely devoid of any suspicious stains.

“Can I ride in your car?” you ask, giving him a shy smile. “So I can… see how efficient your washer and dryer is? The material for that blanket is very expensive, you know.” Never mind the fact that you got it from Target nor the fact that you drove yourself to the country club.

Aaron obviously sees right through you, not bothering to hold back a soft laugh. Witnessing him joking with you, his guard down, has your heart thumping just a little bit harder.

He stretches his hand out to you, palm up. “Come on, let’s go inspect my house appliances then.”

You place your hand in his, silently giggling to yourself when you notice how large his hand looks compared to yours, and sidle up next to him despite both of you still damp with sweat.

“Let’s go, hot grandpa.”

The laugh that Aaron lets out, soft and sweet, makes you so grateful to your dad for getting you this job.

taglist <3 @kiwriteswords @solardrop @knitmeatardis @mggslover lmk if you would like to be added!

[gracieheartspedro]

Make Me Feel

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x rockstar!gareth emerson x fem! reader

word count: 7.1k words

description: you fly out to reunite with your rockstar boyfriend eddie munson. after a long day, you decide to return to his bed on the tour bus, but it seems like it is already occupied by his bandmate, gareth.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, no use of y/n, rockstar au, all participates are 18+, mentions of alcohol and substances, reader is established as eddie's girlfriend, gareth has crush on reader, mentions of reader having hair but no other characteristics described, groupies, threesome activities, voyeurism, dry humping, tons of dirty talk, spanking, oral (v receiving), v and anal fingering, rough unprotected sex, face grabbing, multiple orgasms, light choking, possessive eddie, cum eating/feeding.

authors note: hey... hey... how y'all doing? lmfao, happy valentine's day! i have been hunkered down for days trying to finish this insane idea and let me tell you... it was horny times. i loved writing for eddie already, and i decided after reading @the-unforgivenn's masterpieces with gareth, that I too would like to add that man to the mix. wanna thank my babies @amanitacowboy, @pedgito, and @chaotic-mystery for supporting this insanity as well. enjoy!

how to help palestine ~ dividers by @cafekitsune

It had been three months.

Three months since you saw your boyfriend, Eddie. 

Tour had taken up his entire life since his band’s new album “Asylum” came out in January, and you fucking missed him so much. He had told you countless times to come out and visit him, but your job was holding you hostage with a bunch of stupid deadlines. You were simply just waiting for him to come home to your shared condo in LA. 

But after one too many missed assignments, your job decided it was best to let you go because your head was somewhere else. And it was. It was constantly occupied on what your boyfriend could be getting up to while on the road with his bandmates. 

You called Eddie that night, twisting the home phone’s cord around your finger as you spoke about how your boss called you into his office and told you that you were dismissed. Eddie was pissed, telling you that he would give your boss a piece of his mind. You told him there was no need, you did not feel like fighting for a job that useless. 

“Well, we got four more shows left. Tomorrow is in Austin, Texas. I will be home in like a week, baby. I’m so fuckin’ excited to see you.”

You could not stand another week. You needed to feel him. Touch him. 

When you got off the phone, you booked the next flight to Austin. Tomorrow morning at 7AM. That would do. Once you got your official booking, you called Gareth. When he picks up the phone, you can tell from his slurred speech that he’s one, drunk, and two, very confused.

“What’s up darlin’?” His voice rasps through the speaker.

“Hey, I’m surprising Eddie tomorrow and coming to the Austin show. You think you could make sure your management knows and I can get backstage?”

You can hear Gareth’s shuffling, isolating himself somewhere more private, “You are coming to Austin?”

“Yes. I’m surprising Eddie. Make sure will call has passes for me, please.”

His voice sobers, “Of course. I’m… We are excited to see you.”

Gareth was probably your favorite member of Corroded Coffin, other than Eddie, of course. He was sickeningly sweet to you. You chalked it up to how close he and Eddie have been since childhood. He knew you meant the world to Eddie. Plus, he enjoyed your swift and funny banter. 

Little do you know, Gareth harbors a small crush on you. 

You were strictly off limits but he could not help but let his gaze fall on you longer than what was needed.

“See you tomorrow, Gare!”

-

You were on the verge of tears.

Your flight had been delayed all day. You were not going to make it to the show if the next flight out cancelled again. The kiosk worker said it was because it was too windy for takeoff and most flights had been canceled for the rest of the day. You were at the mercy of the fucking wind.

But by the grace of whatever god, you were boarding a flight at 1PM, which meant you would miss the show and arrive by 8PM. But you still had the chance to catch them after the show, you told yourself. 

When you land, you hail the first taxi you see and tell them to race to the arena where your boyfriend is performing. You only brought a backpack, stuffed full of some random assortment of clothing and toiletries. You throw it in the backseat, tapping on the buckles as your anxiety spikes.

Traffic was a nightmare, the city bustling with people attending the show and or, getting fucked up on a Friday night. When the cab screeches to a halt at the very front of the arena, you throw them two $20 bills and sling your backpack over your shoulder. Scalpers approached you immediately, asking if you wanted a shot at catching the band’s last song, but you practically push them to get to the will-call stand. You get the lady’s attention by your insane expression, hurriedly telling her your name and why you are there. 

She smiles widely, her wrinkles reflecting her surprise. “We thought you weren’t gonna come! Let me get security to escort you back.”

As soon as you cross into the area, you hear Eddie’s voice over the speakers, wishing everyone a good night. Before you know it, you are guided down some random corridors under the arena. The halls are narrow and you catch yourself knocking your jam-packed bag into the brick walls. It’s so loud, different sounds bouncing off the not-sound-proof walls. 

You finally are let backstage which has tons of people bustling around taking large metal boxes off the stage and towards other hallways. Everything was so scrambled and confusing, so it’s reassuring the moment you lock eyes with Gareth. He’s sweaty, his cheeks red and his shirt completely off, displaying some new artwork you haven’t seen before. 

“There you are!” He cheers, racing over to you. His glistening skin does not shy you away from giving him an embrace. You giggle as he shakes you excitedly.

“I’m sorry, my flights got all fucked up. But I’m here!” You release him, pulling away to get a good look at him, “Where’s my boy?”

His smile widens even more, taking your hand as he guides you around a crowd of crew and groupies. Walking hand in hand with Gareth gets you some odd glances from pretty girls, which gives you a confidence boost.

When you get to the door marked “Eddie Munson”, your heart is beating straight out of your chest. You had been so nervous this whole time, that you had really no time to get excited. You look at Gareth, releasing his hand and knocking furiously on the door. You take a deep breath when you hear footsteps bounding towards the door. 

“What the f-,” His voice is deep and somewhat annoyed, but the moment his eyes land on you, it’s like his entire body relaxes. His big brown doe eyes are enough to take your breath away. His hair is wet and tangly across his forehead. He looks so broad. And naked?

“Surprise!” 

It’s the first thing that you can think to say. You can’t say anything else because Eddie’s arms fly around you, pulling you into a big bear hug. His body is so warm, setting you alight almost immediately. “Baby, what are you doing here?!”

You pull away, your hands going up to touch his face. You missed cradling his jaw in your hands when you looked at him or kissed him. “I am surprising you! Surprise!”

“Yeah, you said that!” He presses a kiss into your palm, “I’m so happy to see you, sweetheart.”

You look back at Gareth, whose smile is so wide it warms your entire body. He waves a simple goodbye to you, letting Eddie drag you into his dressing room. 

-

Eddie is quick to get you in his lap. He knew the moment he got his hands on you, he would not want to let go of you. You are propped up on his thighs, telling him about the dramatic day you had while he peppered kisses all around your neck. 

“Are you even listening to me, baby?” You pester, poking at his still-nude chest. He had managed to put on some sweats before he pulled you onto his lap. 

He chuckles, pulling away to sit back on the leather couch. “Of course, I am, sweetheart. Just missed you way too much.”

The sparkle in his eye sends a smile spreading across your face. The days seemed so long without him and while you supported his career and loved that he followed his dreams, you miss the simple pleasures in life with him. Waking up in the same bed. Going grocery shopping together. Doing dishes and singing along to your favorite songs. Ever since Corroded Coffin took off, you have been grieving that life. 

Seeing him happy was all that mattered, though. His hard work allowed you two a comfortable life and you knew that’s all Eddie ever wanted to give you. 

You slide out of his lap when there’s a knock on the door. The tour manager comes in, his eyes never even meeting your eyes as he directs Eddie to hurry up and get packed up. He’s short in stature, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. You assume he does not look your way due to the fact that most rockstars keep random girls around all the time and there cannot be conflicts of interest with his talent. Before he can shut the door, Eddie stops him.

“Roger, this is my girlfriend. She’s gonna be tagging along tonight,” Eddie states simply, standing up to almost present you to the man. You nod timidly as the guy finally glances at you. 

“Nice to meet you, kid. Keep this boy in check, he’s been a pain in my ass all week. He and Gareth are pests.”

And then he shuts the door, not saying another word. You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, unsure how to react to such a claim. Eddie purses his lips, the sides of his mouth pointing up slightly. 

You crook your head, “What have you been putting that poor man through?”

“Nothin’. Gareth has been more of a shithead than me. Won’t stop kidnapping women and bringing them over state lines.”

You lock onto his arm, your eyebrows dropping in confusion. What did he mean by that?

“And you?”

“Last week of tour is prank central. I pelted him with water balloons when he was leaving a porta potty yesterday.”

Him being the more innocent of the two throws you for a loop. Gareth being the real problem is shocking. While a hellion like Eddie, he was definitely the more tame one. Eddie was always dragging him into the pits of chaos, not the other way around. 

You loosen your grip as Eddie starts to head over to his vanity to collect all his belongings into a frayed duffle bag. “Gareth is kidnapping women?”

“Not on purpose. He brings them on the bus to fuck and then when he is supposed to take them back to security, he just doesn’t. A girl made it to Chicago from Louisville and Roger had to book her a flight home.”

You shake your head, your hand resting on your forehead. You could not imagine having that poor man’s job. You would murder all of the band before the first show could even go on.

“He’s right, you two are pests.”

-

You and Eddie walk hand in hand down the long corridor that opens up to the back lot of the arena. On the way out, Eddie stops at craft services to load up his duffle with random snacks he says “They don’t have them on the bus”, which you know is a big fat lie. You could bet money their snack cabinet is filled to the brim with snacks and restocked the moment they start to run low. 

Jeff walks by you two, his face twisting in surprise when he recognizes you. You stand in the hall, catching up with him. You can tell he’s high off something because his eyes are half shut when he talks. Like a magic trick, a flask appears in his hand and he raises it to you and Eddie.

“See you lovebirds on the bus!”

Eddie wraps his arm around your waist, a sly giggle releasing from his throat, “Mans off his ass every night. He probably won’t even make it to his bunk.”

Your fingers trace his arm, wrapping your finger through one of his bracelets, “Do you have a bunk?”

“Oh no, princess, I have the queen-sized bed in the very back of the bus. We will be very comfy tonight.”

-

You finally climb the steps onto the bus. It’s weirdly freezing as you make it to the very top, taking in the space. It’s a mess to put it lightly. Jeff is already making himself at home on the scratchy-looking couch. Grant is propped up next to a very pretty girl, his arm slung around her possesively. It is weird to see the boys living the life of rock stars. You knew your boyfriend entertained some parts of the life, mainly the alcohol and drugs, but with the way he’s wrapped around your finger, you seriously doubt any infidelity. You also knew if he did try something like that, Gareth or one of the other boys would come running to you to rat him out. 

Eddie would never, though. You were his everything. 

You give Grant a gentle wave, moving your way through the back of the bus. Before you and Eddie make your way to the door at the very end of the hall, Grant speaks up. 

“Gareth’s in there!”

Eddie’s hand drops from your back as he shimmies past you in the tight corridor. He presses his ear up to the door, but you do not even need to do that to hear what is happening in the room. On Eddie’s bed. 

Eddie cracks the door a bit, getting an eyeful of Gareth completely going to town on a girl, who he surely does not recognize. 

Eddie rolls his big brown eyes, annoyed and ready to break down the door. You stop him, though. An idea sprouts in your head. Something a bit unhinged. 

“It’s prank week, Eds. Why don’t we… prank him?”

Eddie’s face relaxes, his jaw going slack. “Prank him? How?”

You ponder your options for a moment. You could sneak in there and scare him? You could have Eddie go up behind him and slap his ass or something?

You smile when the idea hits you.

“Why don’t we stumble in there acting like we are trying to get it on and just fall onto the bed next to them? That’ll rattle him.”

Eddie’s pride shines through his expression. “You’re a dream, baby. So smart and so pretty. You know that?”

He drops the bag onto the floor, as your heart pounds at the fact that he agreed so quickly to your plan.

Eddie grabs you roughly, his eager kiss turning into something more the moment he slides the wooden door open. You hear a sharp gasp the moment you two step into the small confines, but you know not to pull away from Eddie to see who it came from. His hands are expanding under the t-shirt that’s loosely hanging off your body, fondling the flesh of your hips and back. You are walking forward, while he is dragging you with him, his heels hitting the end of the bed before falling onto the bed with a bounce. 

The slapping of skin has completely halted by the time Eddie’s lips leave yours and is instead replaced with the sounds of sheets rustling. 

“What the fuck!” Gareth’s voice pierces through the room, ringing in your ears. Eddie’s eyes do not leave your face as you both smile wickedly at the plan working out exactly the way you wanted. 

You do not look at Gareth, instead, you face the pretty little thing he’s been fucking. Her widened eyes reflected her absolute horror at you and Eddie’s entrance. 

She reflected a lot of your physical attributes, but she was just smaller. She was probably a bit older than you as well, her makeup caking around her forehead where her face must’ve been twisted in pleasure. After taking her in, you finally glance over at Gareth. 

Big mistake. 

He’s glistening with sweat, his curls a mop of mess on his head. He only covers his dick with his hands, leaving the rest of his body on display. You had just seen him shirtless, but there was something more to look at. The expanse of his hipbones and long legs that are littered with random tattoos. He was more covered than Eddie was, which for some reason sends your mind reeling. 

You had to keep going along with the bit. “I’m sorry, Eddie said this was his bed.”

Eddie perks up, finally peeling his eyes away from your lingering gaze on Gareth. “It is.”

Your eyes falter back to the girl lying naked under the covers next to Eddie. 

“What’s your name?” You probe, your fingers dancing across Eddie’s shoulders. You wanted to be touching him, making sure you maintained your coolness. The girl’s expression shifts over to Gareth, who just shrugs at her. 

“Emily,” She responds, her voice small and hesitant. With the way she was moaning, you expected her to have a bit more conviction. Eddie’s hands rest on the back of your thighs, keeping you right between his spread legs. Gareth noticed it immediately, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the sight.

“Emily… I like that name,” You utter, the coldness of Eddie’s rings sending goosebumps down your legs. His every touch was distracting you. 

“It’s a very pretty name,” Eddie adds, staring up at your face as he sits back a bit more on the bed. He does not dare look at the other girl, knowing that the only sight he wants to look at right now is you. 

“Edd-”

“Gare, why did you stop?” You inquire, your eyes are unyielding as you let them settle back on his face. “Emily seemed to be enjoying herself.”

“You two walked in-”

“And?” Eddie presses, dragging you forward so you are fully mounted on his lap, your knees pressing into the mattress on each side of his hips.

You drag your tongue slowly across your top teeth, ticking it as you shoot Emily a glance. For some reason, this was not just a silly little prank to fuck with Gareth. You strangely wanted to watch Gareth at work. You and Eddie had talked about joining other people in the bedroom in the past, but you knew better than to add a random groupie to such affairs. So you would settle on just watching your long-time friend and your boyfriend’s bandmate fuck a stranger. 

“Do you want him to continue, Emily?”

She looks nervous under your regard, which only sends you more on a power trip. You did not know this girl and you would probably never see her again. 

Eddie’s hands find your ass, squeezing both cheeks and spreading them apart. It makes your hips rock against his crotch. You can audibly hear how wet you are and it makes Eddie chuckle, a rasp in the back of his throat. You place your hands on the nape of his neck, holding on to steady yourself before you start grinding harder on him involuntarily. 

When her head jerks for ‘yes’, you smile and look back at Gareth. 

“Give her what she wants, Gare.”

The air in your lungs is literally stolen from your body when Gareth drops his hands from his dick. You did not expect such a thing from him. Long, girthy, and so fucking pretty. The extra saliva in your mouth almost dribbles down your lips when you watch him rip the top sheet off of her body. 

By the look on your face, Eddie realizes you are liking this a whole lot more than he is. He swats your ass, gaining your attention again. You grab his neck with your hands, your nails leaving small scratches across his throat. You arch your back, leaning forward and capturing Eddie’s plump pink lips. He is all teeth when you open your mouth to deepen the kiss, which makes you moan a bit. 

All the tension you have built up in the last couple of months is now being released and it makes you aggressive. When his teeth graze your tongue, you push him onto his back as you adjust your hips to completely line up your clothed cunt against the tightness in his pants. 

The whole time you two have been battling dominance, you realize Gareth has dragged Emily’s frame to the side of the bed, lining his cock up with her perfectly shaved cunt. When he sinks into her, the moan she lets out is pornographic. With one experimental thrust into her, he returns back to the steady pace he was at when you and Eddie just listened to him through the door. 

You roll your body on Eddie’s lap, resting your hands on his chest. His body responds to your touch, lurching his hips upward to meet your circling hips. His hands grips onto your thighs, holding you down so you cannot stray away from the friction. You flick your head back to watching Gareth, his pace speeding up as he grunts about how tight Emily is. 

“You better make her cum first, Gareth,” You mock, your voice dripping in lust. His eyes snap up to you, his brows furrowed in concentration. Eddie’s hands are burning into your hips, his focus solely on making you cum by simply dry-humping him. 

Gareth flicks his curls away from his forehead, leaning over Emily’s smaller frame as he sharpens his angle and grinds his pelvic bone into her swollen clit. She’s writhing under him, completely taken by his performance. 

“You want to watch her fall apart on my cock, honey?” 

Gareth’s eyes are lasered in on you, your face twisted in pleasure as Eddie starts to move your hips for you. You are so enamored by the question that it steals your voice. Eddie sits up again, his arms wrapping around you, locking your arms behind your back. It’s like he’s putting you in a human straight jacket. 

His mouth connects with your jaw as you dry hump him, his voice coming out strained. “Gareth asked you a question, princess.”

You feel your cunt clench around nothing and you are panting. You did not expect those words from Eddie, who was usually possessive and jealous when any guy even gave you a glance. Now he’s playing into Gareth’s game? How did you get here?

You nod, your chest rising and falling in Eddie’s face. You cannot look at Gareth as you say it, so you just squeeze your eyes shut. “Yes, please.”

Due to the close proximity, Gareth’s wing span is long enough to touch you. Instead of a gentle caress, he’s grabbing your face, his fingers pinching your cheeks together. Eddie says nothing, just smirking devilishly at his actions.

“Eyes open. Key word was watch.”

When you open your eyes, Gareth’s face is inches from yours. His steel blue eyes are practically black, his pupils are beyond dilated. You blink slowly, seeing Emily’s twisted expression while the man that’s fucking her is holding onto your jaw. With the way she’s groaning, you know she’s nearing her end, and so are you. Eddie’s one hand locks your wrists behind your back while the other makes its way groping your braless chest over the black fabric of your t-shirt. 

Your hips still as the stimulation becomes too much and your cunt spasms even though it’s not filled. Emily matches your moment, her arms lurching upward to grab onto Gareth’s arms as she falls apart on his spearing cock. The moans coming from the room are enough to alarm on the bus, for sure. Her long drawn-out sobs are much louder than your whines, but it was no competition. 

Gareth does not finish, just pulls out of her and continues to jerk his soaked dick. Eddie releases your hands, letting you settle against him as your body recovers from your orgasm. 

“Gather your clothes, Emily. The security outside the bus will bring you back to the arena,” Gareth directs, backing up so the absolutely spent girl could come to her senses enough to get dressed. You look away as she stands up, focusing your eyes back on Eddie. He’s smiling still, the glint in his eye mischievous. 

You felt bad for the girl. She just got to fuck a rockstar, probably one she admires, and now he’s escorting her off the tour bus without really finishing the job. As he guides her to the door, you half expect him to gather his own clothes off the floor. 

But he does not do that. Instead, he’s bounding over to the bed, sitting down right next to Eddie. 

Eddie’s hands rub up and down your thighs, before he clears his throat. “Did you need something, Gareth?”

You finally peel your eyes away from Eddie, looking over at Gareth’s narrowing expression. His lips are pursed in contemplation. Gareth’s cock is still covered in a condom. When he notices your eyes on him, he slowly drags it off his dick, discarding it on the floor. You feel a dribble of sweat drop down into your eyebrow, not realizing that your body is covered in a layer of glistening sheen.

“Your girl, Munson.”

Your stomach flips as you tug your lip between your teeth, trying your best to not smile. You do not know how Eddie was going to respond to such a revelation, but the thought of being able to get both of them in one night was enough to send your head spinning. 

Eddie shrugs, nonchalantly. He starts tilting your face towards his with his pointer finger, “You want that, sweetheart?”

You let the tension in your face go, finally settling on a smirk as your eyes rested on Eddie’s lips. 

“As long as I get your dick first, baby.”

Gareth chuckles dryly beside you, his hand grazing the arm you have wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders. “Eddie, you lucky bastard.”

Eddie tightens his grip around you, flipping you on your back. He presses your hips into the mattress, the tangled-up sheets surrounding your head as you look at the two men staring down at you. Their next meal. 

Eddie’s quick to strip you of all your clothes and his own. When the realization hits that you are completely bare in front of both men, you start to grow a bit self-conscious. You raise your arms up to grab at your boobs, but Eddie is quick to swat them away. 

“Don’t be nervous around us, princess. You’re fuckin’ perfect,” his voice drips with lust. The amount of times you got off on Eddie’s words alone should be studied. Gareth settles beside you, stroking himself as Eddie’s hands trace your legs and thighs. He settles on his knees, parting your knees. “Isn’t she perfect, Gareth?”

Gareth hums, “Fuckin’ flawless, Eddie.”

Your focus tapers in on Eddie’s fingers, dragging towards your wet slit. He still has his rings on, the silver catching the dim overhead light. You groan when his touch graces your silky center, his fingers gathering your slick. When his pointer and middle digits sink into your cunt, your hips raise off the bed. 

Your head lulls to the side, your eyes feasting on Gareth’s length right near your head. He’s looking down at Eddie working magic on your core, pumping his cock with his large hands. 

You did not realize how attractive you found Gareth until he was this close to you, naked and fiending for you. 

When his eyes snap over to yours, he looks pleased. 

“You just can’t keep your eyes off my cock, huh, honey?” His voice brings Eddie’s eyes to the state of your gaze. He pumps his fingers into you faster, latching his lips around your swollen bud. That brings your attention back to his head between your thighs. 

“Oh my god, Eddie,” You moan, your hand reaching up to grab at his long curls. He shakes his head, his tongue running between your pussy lips like a madman. Eddie always had you cumming on his tongue, and this moment would be no exception. Your core tightens as you feel that familiar build-up in the pit of your stomach. 

You cannot look away at his nose and how it probes the top of your pussy as he drags his mouth up and down your slit. When his lips envelop your clit, it’s game over. He scissors his fingers in you as you tumble over the edge.

“Yes, fuck, yes baby,” You cry, your other hand mindlessly gripping onto the closest thing. It was Gareth’s thigh. You dig your nails into the flesh as you grind your cunt on Eddie’s mouth. 

Your mind is blank as Eddie lifts himself up, his mouth glossy with saliva and your spend. Your hand is still locked on Gareth’s leg, observing how Eddie slots himself between your lower half. Eddie’s cock is standing at full attention as he pumps himself with his wet fingers. You smile at Gareth, completely drunk off of the climax Eddie just gave you. 

“Two orgasms, sweetheart. You think you can handle any more?” Eddie questions, pushing his cock between your folds. You are so sensitive, you are unsure if you can handle it, but your lips deceive you. 

“Yes, please,” You say to Eddie, eyes still glued to Gareth.

Gareth decides it’s time to adjust his position, sliding off the edge of the bed and leaning over it to put all his focus on you. He glances up at Eddie, almost to ask permission for something. Eddie just nods, like they spoke telepathically. 

Gareth’s hand comes up to your cheek, tenderly dragging down your cheekbone.

“You’re so polite, honey,” He murmurs, his eyes sparkling down at you, “I can’t wait to watch Eddie ruin you with his dick.”

Eddie tilts his shaft down, pushing his cock inside you. You breathe out, trying to take him without clenching immediately. But your reflexes squeeze him so much that he matches your action, gritting his teeth and letting out a sigh. 

“Relax, baby. You’re squeezing the fuck outta me,” Eddie groans, taking his time fully sheathing himself inside you. Your senses are in overdrive as you watch Gareth’s mouth slightly open, his fingers touching your lips softly. He’s teasing you, you can tell by how his demeanor has shifted from the way he’s been talking to you. 

“Her pussy is probably tight because it hasn’t had a good fuckin’ since you left, Eds. Give her a break,” Gareth dotes, his thumb dropping to your chin. Your breathing hitches when Eddie widens your legs more and snaps back into you. “That right, sweet cheeks?”

Eddie chuckles darkly as you whine when his pace picks up, not waiting for you to adjust to him again. “My girl doesn’t need a break. She just wants to soak my cock, don’t cha, princess?”

You just nod, the air your lungs completely pushed out of your body the moment Eddie lifts your hips up with his sticky hands. The new position hits you perfectly, his cock driving into you at a speed it’s never been at before. 

Gareth’s hand drags down to your throat, wrapping around it slightly in a teasing squeeze. He is gauging Eddie’s reactions and that one seems to rub him the wrong way. 

“Watch it, Emerson,” he warns, tightening his hands on your hips, “Play with her titties. She likes that.”

Gareth’s hand leaves your neck. You silently curse Eddie’s guidance, wanting nothing more but for him to choke you while Eddie spearheads into you. But the moment his palm reaches your tit, you whine at the contact. 

“She does like that, doesn’t she?” Gareth lilts, his fingers going to pinch at your perked nipples. You wiggle in Eddie’s grip, trying to get away from the overstimulation both boys are bringing you. Eddie grabs the back of your thighs, hinging your legs, and drives his cock into your pussy while compressing you into the bed. Even Gareth gasps at the aggression, loving the way you cry out for Eddie. 

In an act of pure insanity, Gareth leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth. Eddie’s reaction brings a sound out of your throat that you have never heard before. His hand practically manhandles Gareth’s curls, trying to pry him away from your chest. It’s met with resistance for a moment before Gareth’s swollen lips pop off your nipple. 

You are not sure how the action does it, but you are seizing around Eddie’s cock. No names come out of your mouth, you are unsure which one to scream anyway. You just chant, “Oh god, oh god”, over and over again. 

The constriction on Eddie’s cock pushes him over the edge. He releases Gareth, practically tossing him aside as he locks his hands on your waist to fuck his seed into you. Even with your bones feeling like jello, you sit up on your elbows to get an up-close view of Eddie’s furrowed brows and distorted expression. 

You grab onto the nape of his neck, the sweat pooling at the base of his curls. You pull him into a passionate kiss, your tongue exploring the inside of his mouth. He tastes like your essence and the whiskey he had been sipping on earlier. 

You pull away, nails raking down his neck and chest. You tilt your nose up, getting ready to probe him with a mind-numbing question. 

“Now why did you do that to Gareth, baby? You told him that I liked when someone plays with my titties.”

Eddie’s jaw drops before a small smile creeps across his lips. You shoot Gareth a look, his face completely dazed by what just happened. 

Eddie’s breath fans your face before drawing back a bit. His cock slowly drags out of your leaking core as he stands up before you. “I told him to play, not suck.”

You tick your tongue, shaking your head at his response. “No making up random rules in the middle of sex, baby.”

Eddie looks smug as he grabs Gareth up from his spot. The odd intimacy of him touching Gareth’s hips as he positions him in front of you is very hot to you. Eddie stands a bit taller than Gareth, so when he leans down to whisper in his ear, you cannot help the way your stomach flutters. 

“Fine. Gare, just do what the girl tells you. But,” Eddie’s hands leave his waist, nudging him a bit closer to your knees, “If you cum in her, I will rip your dick off your body. Understand?”

After he says it, he slaps Gareth’s ass before giving you the cheesiest smile ever. His body sinks into the bed next to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. When he presses a kiss into your shoulder blade, you finally roll your eyes. 

“You heard his terms,” You give a pointed look at Gareth as he slowly drags his pointer finger across your knee, “Do you understand?”

“Crystal clear, honey.” He quips, shooting you a smug smile. “Do you mind if I take you from the back? Or are there stipulations with that?”

You shake your head, pushing up on your ass, flipping over eagerly. Eddie watches you with curiosity, completely taken by the fact that you are this excited to get fucked by his friend. 

Gareth’s hands lock on your hips, dragging you to the edge of the bed. He pumps his dick, watching your pulsating pussy dripping with a mixture of Eddie’s cum and your own. He smiles sickly, dragging the tip of his dick through your messy folds. 

“Tell me you want it.” Gareth rasps, tilting his head a bit to meet your gaze. 

You giggle, not taking him too seriously. “I want it.”

He shakes his head, glancing over at Eddie. He is propped up, his completely nude body looking like a graffitied sculpture from the Louvre or something. Eddie looks between you two, tilting on his side so he can watch you get your fix from Gareth. 

“Is she always such a tease, Eddie?” Gareth inquires, his gaze snapping back to the view of you ass up for him. 

Eddie snickers, “Gotta put her in her place, Emerson.”

You angle your head to face Eddie head-on, completely baffled by his response. Gareth’s titillating motions around your pussy are already putting you on edge, and now Eddie is only encouraging him to taunt you even further. 

“I’ll leave that to you. I’ll just fuck her like the slut she is.”

He snaps into you in one fluid motion, his cock curving inside you in a way that Eddie’s dick does not. You do not expect him to shift so quickly inside you, so you let out a shift yelp. His words still ring in your ear as you hear both of them laugh at your reaction. You press downwards, pushing your ass up further, laying the side of your face into the sheets. 

You decide it is better to give it back to him. While he drives into you, you speak up. 

“Yes, Gareth, treat me like the dirty little slut I am. Fuck me like you fuck those groupies.”

“Yeah?” He pistons his hips faster. The way his hands fit on your waist is so different than how Eddie’s settle. His hands are rougher and his fingers are not as long. Must be the callouses built up from all the drumming he does. You feel his naked chest make contact with your back. His voice comes out as a whisper, “I fuck all those girls wrapped up. I get you raw. Fuckin’ slut.”

The idea you had earlier about how that girl resembled yourself springs into your brain. 

“You like fucking girls who look like me, Gare? Hm?”

Gareth’s thrust slowed for a moment, shocked that you would say such a thing. You were right, but how were you so observant?

“Fuck, you gettin’ off on my little crush on you? You think it’s cute?”

You hum your response, hands gripping the sheets as he rams into you even harder now. You were surely getting off on more than that. 

Eddie knew Gareth had a crush on you. He knew that he was fucking whatever girl had your hair or your eyes. Hearing Gareth confess such a thing as he’s balls deep in you sends red flags flying in his mind. He knew he could not stop this right now, loving the way you looked all blissed out on his friend’s dick anyway. But this would not be happening again.

Eddie's hands roam all over your skin as his bandmate fucks you, massaging your back. His fingers meander over to your lower back before his hand is groping your ass cheek. His body moves away from your constricted view. He takes your other ass cheek in his hand, spreading them for his and Gareth’s viewing pleasure.

“How does she feel, Gare? Everything you dreamed about?” Eddie quizzes as he swats your ass a couple of times, trying to rid his mind of the racing thoughts.

Gareth audibly moans, “So fuckin’ tight, dude.”

Gareth’s thrusts only get more sloppy as Eddie plays with your ass. When his middle finger slips down your ass crack, feeling out for your asshole, you put your face in the blankets and screech. Your throat is becoming hoarse at all the strangled moans you have let out in the last hour. Over the wet slapping due to Gareth fucking you so good, you hear the squelching of Eddie pooling a drop of spit between your cheeks.

“She will be gushing on you in no time if you just,” Eddie sinks his finger into your other hole, the excessive stimulation maddening. “Add a finger.”

This is why you are madly in love with the man. He knows you better than anyone. 

Because he’s right. As soon as he presses his index finger into your asshole, your hips jut forward. Instead of retreating, Eddie and Gareth both clutch onto your waist and fuck you through the white-hot rapture ripping through your body. Your cunt is gushing around Gareth’s cock, the sounds absolutely obscene. 

“Oh fuck, Gareth, oh my god yes! Cum, please cum.”

The way your pussy clamps down on Gareth causes him to hit that same wall, too. After one particularly sharp thrust, he is fumbling out of you, jerking his dick off right near Eddie’s intrusive fingers. 

His cum spurts out all over your ass crack and Eddie’s hand. Instead of straying away from it, Eddie chuckles at Gareth’s spend coating everything in sight.

You have never felt so drained in your life the moment the orgasm dampens. Eddie and Gareth share snickers when your body essentially drops down onto the bed. 

For you, the interaction is done. But Gareth has something devious planned. He exhales, tilting over and dragging his tongue across your cum-covered ass and back. The warmth of his mouth sends goosebumps rising all along your skin. Eddie gawks at his exploit, his eyes dropping to his cum covered hand. He glances over at Gareth who is so focused on cleaning his remnants on you that he’s not focused on what Eddie is about to do. 

With his clean hand, Eddie grips your hair and yanks you up by your scalp. You are whiplashed when he places his coated hand in front of your face. 

“A gift from Gareth,” He displays, his smile a bit unhinged. You ogle him before accepting his offer, extending your own tongue and dragging it all around his knuckles and fingers. He shakes his head, at your vulgar conduct. “That’s my girl. Always so compliant.”

By the time you are getting the last bit off Eddie’s hand, Gareth is done cleaning you up. He sees what Eddie is making you do and he cannot help the quiver that escapes him. 

When your mouth is laced with your own spit and Gareth’s cum, Eddie drops your head delicately. You roll onto your side, your upper body half in Eddie’s lap, half on the bed. 

“I need a shower,” You gripe, trying to regain full feeling in your body. You feel a head high, almost as if you just smoked a full joint by yourself or something. 

Eddie assists you in getting up, wrapping you in a sheet, “Let’s get you a shower then, baby.”

Gareth watches him help you as he gathers up his clothing off the floor. The room is so small and the bathroom is right outside the sliding door, so you did not have long to walk. Still, your legs felt like they may give out at any time, so Eddie’s trained hands on you were very helpful. 

Eddie helps you into the shower, unraveling you from the blanket and holding your hand as you step into the stand-up surround. You give him a gentle smile, nodding that you would be okay with the rest of the chore. 

Eddie uses the blanket for himself, wrapping up just in case one of the other guys sees him in the narrow hallway. As he walks out, Gareth is leaving his room, a snicker leaving his lips. 

Eddie raises his fist, gesturing that a bump was required. 

Gareth returns the bump, “Thanks for letting me join, dude.”

Eddie shakes his head, a half smile ticking upward, “No problem… It’s never happening again.”

“What if she-”

“Never. Happening. Again,” Eddie states firmly, still grinning, “Enjoy your bunk, Emerson.”

-

np tags (just some folks that supported my last eddie fics or asked to be tagged, tehe): @hockeyhughes @wdsara48 @emxxblog @cxrsed-angel @canyonmooncreations @mediocredreams