#i am like genuinely jaw on the floor what do i even say

[dayabelle]

Fragments of Us

Pairings: Mha! Shota Aizawa x Fem! Reader

---

It was a late evening, the city lights outside casting long shadows through the small kitchen. Shota sat at the table, head resting on his palm as he watched her bustle around, moving through the small space like she owned it, as if she had always belonged there. Her laugh, light and carefree, echoed as she scolded him for something trivial—he’d knocked over a glass, spilling water everywhere.

"You’re such a mess, Shota!" she said, her voice teasing but warm, bending to pick up the pieces.

He chuckled softly, but as she straightened up, his gaze softened, his heart doing a strange fluttering thing he couldn’t name. The moment held a quiet intimacy—just them, in this shared space, as if everything else in the world faded.

"Hey," he called, his voice suddenly serious.

She paused, looking up with a raised eyebrow, her hair falling messily around her face. "What?"

He hesitated, the words almost foreign to his mouth. "I... I think I might be falling in love with you."

Her eyes widened for a moment, her mouth opening to say something, but instead, she just laughed—a little awkwardly at first, then it broke free into something deeper, more genuine. She crossed the room toward him, leaning against the table, eyes gleaming with that teasing light he had come to adore.

"You think?" she grinned, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "You don’t sound very sure, Shota."

He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m sure enough." His voice lowered, almost as if to confess something deeper, something more vulnerable. "I’m... sure enough to want you to be in my life, for a long time. If you'll have me."

For a moment, there was only the sound of her breathing, steady and calm, before she broke the silence, her voice softer than he’d expected.

"I want that too, Shota. I want you too."

It was one of those rare, beautiful moments when time seemed to slow—when the world outside felt insignificant and everything about them felt right. They didn't need to say more; the simple truth was understood.

--

Their fights were always the same. Intense at first, the words sharp and the emotions raw, but they always ended with laughter, the absurdity of it all cutting through the tension.

One evening, they were sitting on the couch, neither of them particularly angry, but their frustrations had built up over the past few days. He was tired, she was on edge, and the little things became monumental.

"I told you," she said, frowning slightly, "I don’t need you to fix everything. Just listen."

Shota clenched his jaw, a bit frustrated. "I am listening. But you’re not even letting me help—"

"I don’t want fixing, Shota," she snapped, a little louder than she intended, standing up and pacing across the living room. "I just want to be—without you trying to solve my problems all the time!"

He stood too, the frustration turning to something that felt a lot like guilt. "I can’t help it. I just—I hate seeing you like this. I just want to make it better."

She turned to him, her eyes flashing. "I am the one who has to live with it, okay? Not you! You can’t always—"

But before she could finish her sentence, her foot caught on the rug, sending her tumbling forward in a graceless stumble. Instinctively, Shota reached out to catch her, but in the process, they both crashed to the floor with a soft thud, tangled in each other’s limbs.

There was a beat of stunned silence, and then—both of them burst into laughter.

She couldn’t stop laughing, her eyes watering as she tried to push him off her, still giggling. Shota, his chest heaving from laughter, finally caught his breath enough to speak.

"Well," he said, his voice ragged from amusement, "I guess you are right. You don’t need me to fix everything."

She shook her head, grinning at him through her laughter. "You do realize you are the one who made everything worse, right?"

He smiled, brushing his hand through his messy hair, giving her that sheepish smile she loved. "Yeah, yeah. But hey, at least we can’t stay mad at each other when you fall on your face."

And just like that, the tension was gone. The argument, no matter how heated, dissolved in the air between them, leaving only warmth. Only laughter.

--

There were nights, rare and quiet, where neither of them said a word. They didn’t need to. Those were the moments that solidified everything between them.

They sat outside on the balcony of their apartment, the world around them quiet and still. The city stretched out beneath them, lights twinkling like distant stars. He leaned against the railing, his arms crossed, while she sat next to him, legs folded beneath her. She didn’t say anything, just breathed, content in the silence.

Shota looked over at her, his gaze soft. She wasn’t looking at him, her attention fixed on the skyline, but he felt that familiar warmth spread through him. There were no grand gestures, no words, but everything about this moment felt perfect.

He reached over, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch lingering. She looked at him then, just for a moment, a gentle smile curving her lips.

"I’m glad you’re here," he said, his voice quiet but full of meaning.

Her eyes softened, her lips forming a small smile. "Me too."

It wasn’t a declaration of love, not in the traditional sense, but it didn’t need to be. In that moment, in that simple exchange, they both knew. They knew without needing to speak. Everything felt right in the world.

--

A few weeks before the incident that would change everything, they stood outside a building in the dead of night, a soft drizzle of rain falling around them. Shota’s hand was tucked into hers, and she looked up at him with something in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

"Shota," she said, her voice serious, almost hesitant. "Promise me... promise me you won’t ever leave me."

The question hit him like a stone, and he paused, glancing at her with a furrowed brow. "What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere."

She looked down at their hands, as if she were trying to convince herself of the same thing. "Just promise me. I don’t think I can handle losing you."

His heart twisted, a strange foreboding sense creeping over him. He wasn’t sure why she’d asked, why she seemed so afraid, but he answered, without hesitation.

"I promise," he said softly, squeezing her hand, his words sure. "I’m not going anywhere."

She smiled, but there was a quiet sadness in her eyes. "I know."

And it was the last promise they’d ever make.

--

The Last Day Before Everything Changed

The day everything changed, before the war and the pain, they had spent together like any other day. It had been a simple morning—laughing over coffee, sharing quiet words that meant the world to them. He kissed her forehead as she got ready to leave for an assignment, whispering something playful about seeing her later.

"I’ll be waiting for you," he had said, as he always did.

And she had smiled that smile he adored, the one that always made his heart race, before walking out of the door.

They never knew it would be the last time they would be like that. The last time they’d hold each other so naturally, so without hesitation.

It was the last time they shared the world the way they always had—together.

---

Aizawa’s pov:

This was the first time I had ever seen this woman. And yet, she seemed so... familiar?

An instant flash—a woman laughing under a yellow streetlight—lit up his mind before vanishing just as quickly. The warmth of her laughter, the way her silhouette danced in the faint glow, tugged at something deep inside him. It wasn’t just déjà vu. It felt... real. As if a fragment of another life had slipped through the cracks of his memory.

But he had never seen her before. He was sure of that. No matter how hard he tried to summon a memory, there was nothing—no prior meeting, no passing glance, not even a faint recollection of her face. And yet, it was as if he knew her intimately, as if some unseen thread connected them, pulling her closer to him in ways he couldn't explain.

She felt familiar, not in the way strangers sometimes do, but in a way that made his chest ache. It was as though she had always been there, woven into the fabric of his life, even though they had just met today.

His heart ached the longer he looked at her, a deep, inexplicable pain that made his chest tighten. It wasn’t the kind of hurt that came from longing or sadness—it was something far more profound, as though he were remembering a loss he couldn’t quite place.

The way she tilted her head, the softness in her eyes, even the curve of her smile—it all felt so hauntingly familiar, yet completely foreign. The harder he tried to make sense of it, the deeper the ache grew, as if his heart recognized something his mind refused to acknowledge.

He stared at her, his gaze unwavering, but his mind was a storm of questions. Why was she affecting him like this? Why did his heart ache just looking at her? He couldn’t find an answer, and the turmoil was too much to bear.

Without a word, he turned and walked away. The bustling noise of the conference room, filled with pro heroes discussing critical matters, faded into the background. The head chief called after him, demanding he stay, but he ignored the protests. He didn’t offer an explanation, didn’t spare anyone a glance—not even her.

As he stepped out of the room, his heart was still pounding, and the ache lingered. He didn’t know what had just happened, but he knew one thing for sure: staying in that room, in her presence, wasn’t something he could handle right now.

He knew her. He had to, right? There was no other way to explain it—the ache in his chest, the weight of her presence, the inexplicable pull toward her. He had never felt this way for anyone, let alone a stranger. But was she really a stranger? His heart screamed otherwise, even as his mind came up blank.

He racked his brain, trying to place her name, her face, or anything about her. Every pro hero in that room was someone he could recognize instantly—he’d spent years memorizing names and reputations. Yet somehow, she was a complete mystery. And what unsettled him even more was that everyone else seemed to know exactly who she was.

How was that possible? How could she feel so familiar to him, so impossibly close, yet remain an enigma? It was like trying to think of a new color—his mind simply couldn’t grasp it, no matter how hard he tried.

He didn’t want to deal with this—not now. His mind was already a mess, and the events of the day had left him drained. Teaching at U.A. had been exhausting enough, and now this inexplicable encounter had thrown him completely off balance. He needed to clear his head, to shake off the unsettling emotions that clung to him like a shadow.

Without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and called up Hitoshi Shinso. The student responded quickly, eager as always for a chance to train. Within minutes, they were in the gym, facing off.

For nearly an hour, they sparred, and he went harder than usual. Every strike, every block, every move was sharper, faster, as if he could fight away the confusion gnawing at his mind. Sweat dripped down his face, his muscles burned, and his lungs heaved for air, but he didn’t let up. Shinso struggled to keep up, but he pushed himself, determined to meet his teacher's intensity.

Still, no matter how hard he fought, the ache in his chest lingered, and the memory of her face wouldn’t leave him.

Hitoshi finally threw his hands up, panting and wiping the sweat from his brow. "That's it. I'm done for the day," he said, his voice laced with exhaustion. He slumped against the wall, glaring lightly at his teacher. "You’re not just training me—you’re working something out, and I’m not your punching bag, Aizawa-sensei."

Shota froze mid-step, his chest still rising and falling heavily from the spar. He opened his mouth to protest, to say it wasn’t like that, but he couldn’t. Hitoshi was right. The intensity, the unrelenting pace—it hadn’t been for the student’s benefit. He’d been venting his frustration, his confusion, his... whatever the hell was going on with him.

Hitoshi grabbed his water bottle and slung his bag over his shoulder. "Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, but maybe talk to someone about it instead of trying to knock me into next week," he said, giving a tired wave as he walked toward the exit.

Shota watched him leave in silence, the words cutting deeper than they should have. Alone now, the gym felt too big, too quiet, and that familiar ache clawed its way back into his chest. No amount of sparring was going to fix whatever this was.

What a nuisance. His schedule was off, his mood was off, and now he felt completely out of place. Normally, he had a knack for pushing aside anything irrational, anything that didn’t fit neatly into his logical view of the world. He could expel distractions as easily as he could expel a failing student. But this—her—it was impossible to ignore.

It frustrated him to no end. He had tried, over and over, to push her out of his mind, to forget the way she made him feel, to dismiss the ache in his chest as nothing more than a fleeting anomaly. But no matter how hard he tried, she remained. Her face, her presence, that inexplicable sense of familiarity—they clung to him, lingering in the back of his mind like an unresolved equation.

The more he fought it, the stronger it seemed to hold. It was infuriating, maddening even, to feel so powerless over something so intangible. Shota Aizawa was a man of discipline, a man of control. And yet, when it came to this woman, he had none.

-

Hizashi and Nemuri's Pov:

The soft murmur of conversation filled the small corner of the cafe where Hizashi Yamada and Nemuri Kayama sat, the warmth of their cups of coffee contrasting the chill that had settled in their hearts. They watched from across the room, the familiar scene unfolding before them like a page from a book they hadn’t read in years. It was strange—how something so simple could feel so surreal.

From their seats, they could see Shota and her walking past each other, as strangers do, each lost in their own world, unaware of the life they once shared.

Hizashi was the first to speak, his voice unusually quiet, the ever-present brightness of his usual demeanor dimming with the weight of the moment. "You ever thought we’d see this day?" He gestured with a flick of his hand toward the two figures walking by. His tone was soft, almost disbelieving.

Nemuri, her gaze focused on the pair, didn’t immediately answer. Her fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup, the steam rising between them, as though it could somehow erase the heaviness in the air. "I don’t know what to think anymore." Her voice was distant, a thin layer of frustration laced with sadness. "I mean… look at them. They don’t even see each other."

Hizashi sighed, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. "I know," he muttered, eyes following Shota first and then flicking toward the woman who had been so much a part of their lives, so intertwined in the rhythm of everything they did. "It’s just... it's like they’re ghosts. They’ve been erased."

Nemuri’s lips pressed into a tight line. She had always been good at hiding what she felt, but she couldn’t hide the ache in her chest as she watched them walk by, both moving forward in life, but completely unaware of the tie that once bound them so deeply. "We all saw it, didn’t we? That connection they had. Like they were part of the same soul. It was... impossible to miss."

Hizashi chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. "Yeah, it was obvious. Even when they fought, it was like they were always gonna come back to each other. You never saw them as individuals. It was always ‘her and Shota,’ ‘them two.’ But now... now it’s like nothing ever happened."

Nemuri’s eyes followed the two of them, watching as they moved through the meeting room, their gazes never locking, their conversations never overlapping. It hurt. "I don’t even think they know what they lost," she murmured, her words quiet but sharp, as though speaking the truth made it more real. "You remember when she’d laugh and his whole face would light up? Or the way he’d lean in when she spoke, like he was hanging onto every word? That was real. You can’t fake that."

Hizashi nodded slowly, his blue eyes flickering with a sadness he rarely showed. "Yeah, I remember. But whatever they had, whatever was between them, it’s gone now. Just gone." He met Nemuri’s gaze, his voice low, tinged with regret. "It’s like they don’t even recognize it anymore, you know? They walk past each other, barely glancing. Like they’re nothing more than strangers."

"Did they even have a choice?" Nemuri asked, her voice a little raw, a little bitter. She knew the answer, but the question was as much for herself as it was for Hizashi. "Could they have really stayed the same after everything that happened? After... everything they had to go through?"

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken thoughts.

"Maybe not," Hizashi replied, his voice soft, more somber than usual. "But it doesn’t make it any easier to watch. They were everything to each other. And now? Now they’re just two people in the same room, passing like ships in the night."

They watched for a moment longer, their gazes fixed on the two of them. Shota, so distant, his face unreadable, moving as if there were no history behind those eyes. And her, the woman who had once been a bright spark in their world, now just a quiet figure who blended into the crowd.

Nemuri clenched her fist around her cup, her gaze never wavering. "It’s so hard to accept. Watching them like this... it’s like we’re losing them all over again."

"I know," Hizashi muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "But we can’t force it. We can’t make them remember." He paused, his eyes narrowing as he watched Shota and her go their separate ways. "But I’ll tell you one thing, Nemuri. We can’t just forget what they meant to us, either. We can’t let that fade."

Nemuri let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. "No. We can’t."

---

The two of them fell silent, sitting side by side as they watched their old friends, now strangers, go about their day. It was as if the world had moved on, leaving behind a pair of souls that no one could quite reach anymore. And in that silence, the grief of the past, the uncertainty of the present, and the sadness for the future settled over them like a weight they couldn’t shake.

Their friends were gone. They were still there, physically, but the people they had once been—those people were gone. And there was no getting them back.

Not anymore.

-

Aizawa's pov

'

The kitchen was bathed in the warm, golden glow of the late afternoon sun streaming in through the small window above the sink. Dust motes floated lazily in the air, illuminated by the light as if frozen in time. The tiled floor was a mess, covered in a fine layer of white flour that had spread farther than either of them had expected. The overturned bag lay crumpled to one side, its contents spilled out in an unceremonious heap that had them both on the floor, trying to salvage what they could.

She sat cross-legged on the ground, her hands cupped to scoop the flour back into the bag as best as possible. Her long hair, a cascade of soft waves, was pulled back into a loose ponytail, though a few rebellious strands framed her face. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from laughter or exertion, he couldn't tell, but the faint pink hue made her look even more radiant. A smudge of flour dusted her nose, giving her an almost childlike charm.

Her laughter was infectious, a light, musical sound that filled the small space and made the situation feel more amusing than frustrating. It came straight from her chest, unrestrained and genuine, causing her eyes to crinkle at the corners and glimmer with joy. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but her occasional giggles made her efforts slightly clumsy.

He was kneeling beside her, his elbows resting on his knees as he watched her, unable to take his eyes away. There was something mesmerizing about the way she moved—so intent, so unbothered by the mess they’d made. Her fingers worked quickly but softly, scooping up little mounds of flour and pressing them into the bag with care. Her determination was endearing, and he found himself smiling without realizing it.

The sunlight caught the strands of her hair, creating a halo-like effect that made her look ethereal. His heart skipped a beat as he soaked in the moment: her carefree demeanor, her unfiltered joy, and the way her laugh seemed to echo in his mind long after it stopped.

Then she looked up, catching him staring. Her eyes, sparkling with mirth, locked onto his. “Haha, what are you staring at?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, her smile wide and teasing. Her tone was playful, but the way she looked at him made his pulse quicken.

"Nothing," he replied quickly, his voice soft but unconvincing. His lips twitched upward in a faint smile, but his gaze lingered on her a moment too long. It wasn’t nothing—not to him.

This moment, with the chaos of spilled flour, her unrestrained laughter, and the golden light casting her in hues of warmth, felt like something straight out of a dream. The sound of her laugh, the way her nose crinkled slightly when she smiled, and the gentle determination in her hands as she tried to fix their mess—it all burned itself into his memory, searing so deeply he knew he could never forget it.

He turned his focus back to the mess on the floor, his hands clumsily scooping up handfuls of flour. His heart was still racing, the image of her radiant smile replaying over and over in his mind. How could he explain that this seemingly trivial, imperfect moment was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever experienced? So he didn’t try. He let her teasing laugh ring in his ears, silently hoping that she couldn’t see the way his cheeks burned or how his heart had all but leapt out of his chest.

Because to him, this wasn’t just a mess on the kitchen floor. It was a memory—one he wanted to hold onto forever.

Caught off guard, he scrambled for an answer, feeling warmth creep up his neck. But all he could think about was how this ordinary, chaotic moment had turned into something extraordinary—something he never wanted to forget.

'

What the hell? He suddenly had a flashback of something he didn't even remember happening. He couldn't remember the face of the woman in the daydream.

The memory lingered like a soft, unshakable echo in his mind. It was the sound of her laughter, clear and melodic, filling his thoughts until it drowned out everything else. It was a sweet sound, mesmerizing in its simplicity, like the kind of laugh that could make the world feel lighter. He couldn’t remember exactly when it happened or why it felt so vivid. All he knew was that it had burned itself into his memory—her laugh, her carefree smile, the way she had looked at him in that moment.

But when he tried to recall her face, it slipped through his fingers like sand. He could see her in the kitchen, kneeling beside him, laughing as the flour spilled everywhere, but her face remained a blur. Her features refused to come into focus, like a puzzle with a piece missing, no matter how hard he tried to piece it all together. The laughter was there, the warmth of the room, the sunlight bathing her in golden hues—but the face, the very thing that should have anchored the memory, remained elusive.

He rubbed his temple, trying to clear the fog, but the harder he focused, the more it felt like he was chasing a ghost. This had to be a memory, right? Something real. But why couldn’t he place her? Why did her name remain a whisper he couldn’t catch?

The uncertainty gnawed at him, the dissonance between the memory of her laughter and the blankness where her face should have been unsettling. Was he losing his mind? Had it all been a dream or some fleeting, half-formed memory that never fully took shape?

His mind swirled with confusion, and an unsettling thought crept in. What if this wasn’t a memory at all? What if he had never even met her?

He shook his head, trying to dispel the dizziness that was growing within him. No, that couldn’t be right. But the more he thought about it, the more doubt seeped in. How could he feel so sure about something that seemed to slip through his grasp, like a dream he couldn’t wake up from?

His heart tightened, and he felt a strange ache in his chest, a longing for something he couldn’t explain. The sound of her laughter kept playing over and over in his mind, and with it, the unsettling sense that he was missing something crucial. Something important.

But what was it?

It was like a sudden rush of clarity, only for it to crumble away just as quickly. The moment he thought he had almost touched the memory—when he tried to picture her, really see her—he felt it. A crack, like the wall of his mind was breaking down, opening something he hadn't realized was locked away. It was as if the very act of remembering her should have felt natural, but instead, it was like trying to rebuild something that had already fallen apart.

Her face remained elusive, just out of reach, and the more he tried to grasp it, the more fragile everything felt. The laughter, once so clear, began to distort, stretching and warping like a fading echo. The sense of her, the warmth she had brought to the room, all of it slipped away with every effort to hold onto it.

He hated it—hated how his mind couldn’t keep up with the flood of emotions that surged within him. There was a pull, a deep, almost aching sense of familiarity that gnawed at his insides. But it was coupled with the frustration of not knowing why. The feeling of knowing her should have been enough to ground him, but instead, it left him spinning. His heart was a wreck, torn between a longing he couldn't place and a fear of losing something that was already slipping through his fingers.

Every time he reached for a memory of her, it felt like trying to fix a broken piece of glass with his bare hands—gathering the shards only to watch them scatter once more. He wanted to scream in frustration, to pound his fists against the wall of his own mind and force the answers to appear. But they didn’t.

The new feelings—the confusion, the ache, the deep, unsettling sense that there was something missing—were unbearable. And the more he tried to remember, the more everything became a blur. The longer he was left in this void, the more it felt like he was losing himself too, piece by piece.

And that laugh, so sweet and hypnotic, echoed in his mind, reminding him of something he was desperate to grasp, yet terrified to fully uncover. Because every time he tried, it felt like the wall around his mind was cracking even further—falling apart, only to rebuild itself before he could fully understand.

He tried to let it go, tried to convince himself it didn’t matter. After all, how could something as fleeting as an elusive laugh, a memory he couldn’t even place, really be important? It felt silly to dwell on it. He didn’t know her, and she certainly didn’t know him—not in the way those fragments of his mind made him wish. He dismissed it, burying the feeling deep inside where it couldn’t interfere with his routine.

So, he moved on. He went about his days, immersing himself in his work, his distractions, the mundane rhythms of life that felt so much safer than confronting the unknown. He told himself it was just his mind playing tricks—nothing more, nothing less. The more he told himself that, the easier it became to forget.

But then, the next time he saw her, it all came rushing back.

It was in the middle of a meeting, the room filled with the usual hum of conversation. Papers shuffled, pens clicked, and the air was thick with the weight of deadlines and agendas. He sat there, half-listening, jotting down notes, when he heard her voice. It was like a jolt, a spark that set something inside him alight. The moment she spoke, his mind flashed back to that laugh—the sound of it still so vivid, like it had been imprinted on him forever.

She was standing there, as poised and focused as she always was, her hair neatly pulled back, a hint of a smile on her lips as she contributed to the discussion. But the instant their eyes met, something shifted. The familiar pull, that sense of connection he couldn’t explain, washed over him once more, stronger than before.

He felt his chest tighten, his heart picking up pace, and for a brief moment, it was as if everything around him went quiet. It was the same sensation he had experienced the first time he saw her, that inexplicable recognition. But he quickly shoved it down—brushed it off as nothing. It doesn’t matter, he reminded himself. You're just imagining things.

The meeting continued, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, like a knot had been tied in his chest. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on it. He didn’t let his gaze linger on her too long. He focused on the task at hand, forced himself to engage in the conversation, but the connection—however intangible it was—lingered in the back of his mind, quietly gnawing at him.

He went on with his day, just as he had before, but the question was there now, sitting at the edge of his thoughts. The one he’d tried so hard to forget. Why did it feel like he knew her? And more troubling still, why did it feel like she knew him too?

-

Twelve years ago, Shota and her—no one had ever seen one without the other. Their bond was undeniable, a quiet force of nature that made them inseparable. From the moment they met, their friendship was effortless, a connection that seemed to transcend time. They’d been through so much together—life-altering experiences, each moment filled with depth and meaning. At first, they were friends, an odd pair that seemed to click in a way no one understood, not even them. There was something unspoken between them, a sense of mutual understanding that went beyond words.

The first time they fought—really fought—was an oddity. It was about something trivial, as most fights between close friends tend to be. A misunderstanding, a difference in opinion, the kind of thing that could easily have driven them apart. But even then, their bond was strong. In the heat of the argument, emotions ran high, but it never reached the point of real anger. They had always known how to talk through their differences. She would pout, and he’d smile in that stubborn way of his, and before long, one of them would say something so ridiculous that the tension would break. They would laugh, and just like that, the fight would dissolve, leaving only a quiet understanding.

They were there for each other through the darkest times. When Shota lost people he cared about, she was the one who stood by his side, offering a steady hand when the world seemed to be crumbling. When she had her own moments of doubt, when the weight of her responsibilities as a hero felt overwhelming, Shota was her anchor. He knew her better than anyone. Her laugh, her small gestures, the way her eyes softened when she talked about her dreams—it was all so familiar, so deeply ingrained in him. And she, in turn, knew him—the quiet way he carried the weight of the world, the way he hid his emotions, even from himself.

Their love had grown from that friendship. It was slow, like a seed taking root and blossoming when they least expected it. But when it did, it was undeniable. Their relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was real. They understood each other in a way no one else did. Their connection was a constant, and even in the face of the chaos of their lives as heroes, it remained a source of comfort.

Their bond was the kind that made everyone else take notice. It wasn’t just "Shota" or "her," it was always "them two." Wherever one was, the other was sure to follow. They had so many shared memories, countless adventures, moments of quiet joy that felt like they could last forever. Their laughter, their shared glances, their whispered words in the dead of night—these were the things that made them who they were. A couple built on trust, on shared experiences, on a love that felt like it could withstand anything.

---

The war changed everything. The world was thrown into chaos, and they both fought valiantly, side by side, with all the strength they had. It was a brutal battle. Her quirk, a powerful ability that she had honed over the years, backfired during a fight with a villain whose quirk turned things in the opposite direction. It was a freak accident—a perfect storm of chaos—and it shattered the balance of her mind and body.

Her quirk’s backlash altered her chemistry, messing with the way her memories and emotions interacted. It started subtly, at first. Small gaps in her memory, moments where she would forget something that just happened. But it quickly spiraled out of control. The more she remembered him, the more it tore at her, eroding her mind in ways that no one understood. The doctors and quirk scientists were desperate, trying to find a solution, but there was none.

Shota sat in that hospital room, surrounded by cold, sterile faces. The weight of the decision before him pressed down on him, suffocating him with every passing second. Her eyes were closed, her body fragile and broken from the fight, but her mind was the real battlefield now. The doctors had explained it to him in the most clinical of terms. "Her memories of you, Shota, they’re eating away at her. If you stay together, if she remembers you, she will lose herself. Her mind will break down. It’s the only way to save her—to make her forget everything."

The room was a blur of conversation, voices echoing around him as he fought to keep himself together. How could they ask this of him? How could he make this choice?

"I’m sorry," one of the scientists had said, "but it’s the only solution."

The words were like a weight, crushing him. He glanced at her, her face so familiar, yet the pain he saw in her eyes broke him in ways he never thought possible. She would become a stranger to him, and he to her. Their love—everything they had shared—would be erased. The thought of it was unbearable.

But in the end, it wasn’t about him. It was about her.

He looked at her one last time, his hand trembling as he reached out to hold hers. She had to live. She had to survive this, even if it meant forgetting him. He couldn’t bear to watch her become a shell of the woman he had loved for so long. His love for her was greater than his own pain.

With tears in his eyes, he whispered, "I’ll forget too. I can’t… I can’t be the reason you lose yourself."

The doctors began their work, and the last thing Shota remembered was her hand in his, the warmth of her skin a fleeting memory. Then, everything went blank.

---

The procedure was done, and everything was different.

They walked separate paths now. She left, moved far away, to start a new life, a life without him in it. The memories of their time together—his memories—were wiped clean. It was as if they had never existed.

Shota returned to his old routine. He continued as a hero, as a mentor, just as he had before. But it felt wrong. There was something missing, an emptiness in his chest that he couldn’t explain. He went through the motions, interacting with the same people, doing the same work, but there was no joy in it. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been lost.

And then, one day, she walked into a meeting room, as if from nowhere.

Shota looked up, not expecting to see her there. For a brief moment, his heart skipped a beat. The connection, the strange familiarity, surged through him in a way he couldn’t understand. But she didn’t look at him like she knew him. She was cold, distant, a stranger.

Her name was called, and she responded, her voice flat and professional. She walked to a seat, never once acknowledging him.

Shota watched her, a strange knot forming in his stomach. It was like seeing a ghost, a reflection of a life that no longer existed. The room buzzed with conversation, but all he could hear was the rush of blood in his ears, the pulse of his heart. There was a connection between them—he could feel it—but it was a flicker in the dark, something just out of reach.

He wanted to approach her, to speak to her, but he knew better. They were strangers now, both of them lost to their own pasts. And so, he sat there, watching as she spoke to others.

He couldn’t remember.

The others spoke to her with a familiarity that seemed so natural, but to Shota, it felt like they were all speaking a language he didn’t understand. They knew her—knew things he didn’t—and yet she remained a ghost in his mind.

Days passed, and Shota found himself continuously haunted by an odd sense of emptiness, an aching void that seemed to be centered around the woman he had seen in the meeting room. He didn’t know why, but he felt unsettled when he saw her—like he should know her, like something about her was his. But that something couldn’t be touched, could never be reached.

The truth was, he had no recollection of the woman—her—at all. He couldn’t recall the warmth of her laugh, the way they had once shared a life. He didn’t remember the fights that never truly lasted, the small touches, the quiet moments they spent together. The world they had built—woven with love, loyalty, and history—was now just a fog in the back of his mind, dissipating with every passing second.

The decision he had made—to forget—was one he couldn’t recall clearly anymore. It had been a blur of doctors, quiet words of explanation, and the weight of something he knew was vital, but he couldn’t grasp.

Even his own pain, the anguish of erasing her from his life, was now a distant memory.

What had I lost?

The question lingered, but there were no answers.

Some piece of himself that had been removed. But he couldn’t name it. The feeling of loss clung to him like a shadow, but it wasn’t a shadow he could identify. He didn’t know what he was mourning. He didn’t remember her.

The others spoke of her often—her, the woman from the meeting room. They spoke as if she were someone important. She was now part of the team, her presence here to stay. They would nod when he asked about her, giving him only vague responses, as if they could sense his confusion, but they didn’t press it. They didn’t know he didn’t remember her.

Shota’s interactions with her were brief and professional. There were no sparks of recognition when they crossed paths, no flicker of old familiarity that once had been so vivid. She was just another colleague, another face in the sea of people he interacted with every day.

-

He made that decision knowing deep down that he could never really get to know her again.

He had chosen to protect her. And in doing so, he had lost her. He hadn't even said goodbye, she didn't even know she would have to have said goodbye.

And it would stay this way forever, that's what he knew needed to be done.

A beautiful relationship formed so deep, drowning in the depth of their connection. Their life together life died that day. Both of them gone just like that, and they were never coming back.

[qoldenskies]

!!! WOAHAHFHGHDHHF!!!!!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!

fanart for @qoldenskies's caged lungs fic 💥💥

it isn't based on any scene in particular, just my overall interpretation and visualization of things I felt. mostly bad things. but apparently human brains enjoy that. so let's go

I'm gonna ramble now, buckle up

Frankly that's the first personal piece I've drawn in months, and I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful that I was able to feel emotions and wanted to draw something again

I struggle a lot with empathy and understanding of other's feelings and displaying my own but. I hope people will feel something by looking at it, too

I've got inspired by the old tale that we used to read on literature lessons, altho I for the life of me can't remember the name of it, or anything else from the plot for that matter. There were a competition for retrieving the jug from the bottom of the river, where many men tried and failed, as they couldn't reach it. As you can already tell, it was a reflection of the jug that was hanged on a tree all along.

I liked the concept of something unreachable being seen as being very close to you :) hence the whole water situation

generally water is seen as a positive symbol in art but for me it's cold, slippery, you can't see shit in it, misleading and uncomfortable. go figure

and I really like how CL displays yellow as a color with negative connotation while it's classically being the The Most Happy Coded Color Ever.

while I'm at it I wanted to share a song I associate with caged lungs in particular

just let it die!

I would have liked to talk more about how awesome the fic is and how invested I'm in the plot and characters and how noticing details and parallels makes my brain go brrrr but I'm shy and not really eloquent with my words. I hope you will get the idea anyway. I love it <3

& textless version :0

If you spot any symbolism, it's probably there. or not. up to you really. that's how art works. have fun

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Me, You, and Baby, Too

Summary: You and Joel have always wanted kids, but didn't want to rush into having them until you both were ready. After a surprise at his job, Joel realizes there's nothing more he wants to do than put a baby in you as soon as he gets home.

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (it's baby making time, so hush), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big ole fat and nasty breeding kink (.... don't look at me it's bad), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Joel "Daddy" (in the sense you want to have his babies, but also 🤷🏼‍♀️), Sweet soft Joel who loves his wife and would give her the universe if he could, honestly with just the way Joel is talking about makin' babies, I think I'm pregnant

A/N: It's that time of the month where Madeline ovulates and writes feral breeding kink smut!!! 🤪 Okay I am so nervous to post this because I have never written for Joel before and I'm worried it's trash with a capital T, but after re-watching TLOU, I need 2003 Joel Miller carnally, so here we are. This is also inspired by @mrsmando post about 2003 Joel Miller constantly keeping you barefoot and pregnant because it made me unwell, and no lies were told. (thanks for ruining my life mimi) 🤠 ANYWHO I hope you guys like it, and if not, I'll shut up and go back to writing Javi and Frankie and pretend like this didn't happen

There were a lot of stereotypical answers that you expected from your husband when you asked him how his day at work had been:  

“Good.” 

“Fine.” 

“Long.” 

“My knees are killin’ me.” 

“Tommy did somethin’ fuckin’ stupid again.” 

“Better now that I’m home with you.” 

So when Joel arrived home today after a new job he had started with Tommy on a bathroom renovation, there were few things that could have prepared you for the response your husband had when you asked him how his day had gone. 

“Hey, honey. How was your day today?” You smiled, watching Joel stroll in through your front door, kicking off his work boots at the entryway, beginning to put away his things before strolling into the kitchen to greet you. 

“Pretty good." He paused, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way over to the closet before speaking again. "Saw a real cute baby today.” 

You could practically feel your heart skip a beat as you looked up from the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner, tightening the grip you had around your knife to make sure you didn’t drop it in shock. 

Out of all the things for Joel to bring up on the first day at a new job, a cute baby had been at the top of the list.

Not floor plans. 

Not timelines for the project.

Not something stupid that Tommy did. 

Not even what he had done today on the job. 

The top news that Joel Miller had to report back to you about his day was the sighting of a cute baby. 

You and Joel had always agreed that you’d wanted kids, and your husband had been not only adamant, but genuinely excited at the prospect of becoming a dad. But only being a little less than a year into your marriage, the two of you had decided you didn’t want to rush into anything, and when the time felt right, you’d both know it. 

But one by one, as your friends began to announce their pregnancies, baby showers, and pictures of their adorable newborns, you couldn’t help but deny the baby fever starting to burn hotter and hotter inside you with every passing day. 

You’d brought it up in passing a few times with Joel, talking about your friends who had kids, or a cute mom and her children you saw walking around in your neighborhood, and while he had always had a positive response to what you had to say, you just had a feeling that now just wasn’t the time for the two of you yet, and that was okay.  

But here you were, standing in your kitchen, jaw practically scraping the ground at the notion that your husband had dropped just about the least subtle hint ever that babies weren’t just at the forefront of your mind- they were on his, too. 

“Awh, really?” You asked, shaking your head to snap out of your shocked state, returning back to dice the onion you had been working on before Joel could turn around to see you after finishing hanging up his things in the closet, trying to subtly coax more information out of him. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, joining you in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his chest for a soft kiss to greet you, “The family we’re startin’ the bathroom reno for just moved in. Had their first baby a few months ago and just hadn’t had time to work on fixin’ things.” 

“So they’re already putting the baby to work with you and Tommy?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at Joel playfully, giving him a quick peck back on the lips as he laughed at your sass. 

“Cheap labor.” Joel shrugged back, playing into the joke, “Nah, she woke up from her nap while Tommy and I were runnin’ through some measurements so her mom brought her out for the last lil bit we were there. She was damn cute, too. Just smilin’ and laughin’ at everything.” 

You were glad Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your hip, because you were convinced if it wasn’t, you were about to melt to the floor into a puddle, watching how soft and sweet Joel was talking about a cute, smiling baby. 

“Well a cute baby definitely sounds like a very nice perk of being on the job.” You smirked, trying to play it cool enough to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. 

“Yeah.” Joel replied softly, quietly pausing for a moment, watching the gears turning in his brain, carefully calculating his words before he spoke. 

“You okay?” You asked, looking up at Joel, knowing your husband well enough that he had something on his mind he was trying to work up the confidence to spit out. 

Joel looked back down at you, big brown eyes locking with yours as his grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, tongue swiping against his plush bottom lip as he took a long, deep breath in and slow exhale out.  

“Honey, what is it?” You asked again, now slightly concerned with how nervous your husband looked in his stoic silence, reaching up to gently wrap your fingers around his arm, thumb stroking his skin. 

“I want one.” 

You froze, worried that your heart may have actually stopped as you looked at Joel, making sure that you had really just heard what he had said. 

“W-what?” 

“I want one. A baby. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and seein’ that baby today, it just- shit, I just couldn’t stop picturin’ what it would be like to have one of our own I guess.” 

If you weren’t a puddle before, you sure as fuck were now.  

An overwhelming sensation of nerves and excitement began thrumming through your veins, your heart beat pounding in your ears as your face grew warm and a smile started to spread between your cheeks. You were almost certain you had to be dreaming, asking again to make sure that someone needed to come and wake you up and send you back to reality. 

“Joel… Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Nothin’ I want more. I know I ain’t gonna even be close to the perfect dad, but I know you’ll be sucha good mom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want some tiny lil versions of us runnin’ around. Couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than that. Like I said, I know that we ain’t talked about in a while, and if ya aren’t ready yet that’s okay but I-” 

Before Joel could even finish the rest of his thought, you were pressing up to plant your lips to his with passionate intensity, hands roaming up his chest before cupping his jaw and the scratchy stubble of his cheeks while your stomach flipped with arousal and want, already feeling a damp patch beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear. 

You pulled away, kisses traveling along his jawline and up his neck until you were nipping at his ear, the hot breath of your words whispering against his skin. 

“You wanna make a baby, Joel Miller?” 

“Fuck-” Joel groaned, reaching his other arm around you grab at your ass, pulling you in tight enough to feel the bulge beginning to grow under the denim of his worn jeans, pressing against your thigh.

“‘Cause there’s nothing that I want more than to make you a daddy.” You smirked, looking up to watch Joel’s eyes darken with lust, jaw going slack as a low groan rumbled in his chest, his once half hard cock now fully erect and straining against his zipper, trying to keep from giggling watching your husband try to string together any sort of thoughts to speak. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” He moaned, running his hand over his face to try and regain his composure to keep from busting right then and there. “You- fuck, you sure, baby?” 

“Mhmmmm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my whole life. So sure,” you paused, softly pressing your lips to his between words, “that I think we should go make one right now.” 

Your adamant confirmation was all it took to set off something almost animalistic in Joel, crashing his lips back into yours in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, gripping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up around his hips and lock your legs behind the small of his back. Without ever letting your mouths part, Joel was already halfway to the bedroom before you had even realized it, playfully giggling at how frantically he was carrying you down the hallway, your bodies bumping against the walls and door frames, too focused on desperate and needy kisses for any sort of spatial awareness. 

Finally reaching your bed, Joel carefully laid you down, letting your back fall into the mattress, leaving your lower half to hang off the edge before your husband was on his knees, settling himself between your parted thighs. 

You sat up on your elbows, watching as Joel tightened his grip around the meat of your legs, peppering kisses up the inside of each across your soft skin before coming face to face with your core, planting another soft kiss there before letting his fingers ghost over your heat, still covered by your jeans. 

He rapidly worked at the button of your pants, shuffling them down off your hips to reveal your underwear, now absolutely soaked with arousal from the prospect alone of Joel knocking you up and carrying his baby. 

“Jesus Christ, baby girl, look at ‘cha.” Joel tutted, admiring how the cotton of your underwear clung to the outline of your cunt, sticking to the puffy and swollen lips of your pussy from how wet you were. “Haven’t even touched ya yet. This all for me, darlin’?” 

Just as you began to try and answer, Joel took one of his fingers, barely dragging it over the damp fabric before beginning to rub soft circles over your covered clit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you at the electric sensation.  

“F-fuck- It’s all for you, b-baby.” You stammered, moaning even louder as a second finger joined the first, pressing more pressure into you sensitive nub as he nudged each of your legs to drape over his shoulders, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your underwear, making you instinctually lift your hips as he yanked them off your legs to crumple in a messy pile with your pants. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” Joel mewled, running his fingers up and down through the weeping seams of your folds, toying with your entrance while draping his arm across your hips to hold your squirming lower half in place. “Wants me to fuck her full of me and fill her up so bad, huh?” 

“P-please, Joel. Want you to fill me up so badly.” You whimpered, staring down at your husband, a devilish grin spread across his face, licking his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between your blissed out face and the glistening mess between your thighs. 

“I will sweetheart, promise. Gotta taste you first though, baby. Gotta make sure you’re nice n’ready for me. ‘Cause once we start, I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till I knock you up.” 

With that, Joel was diving between your legs, lapping you up in long and firm strokes, pressing against your clit in the way he knew would make you fall apart under his tongue. While he would have loved to have spend hours just like this, making you writhe under his touch, drinking up your arousal like a wandering man parched in the heat of the desert, Joel had one thing on his mind, and one thing only- 

To get you pregnant.   

Joel began to intensify the pace of his tongue, swirling and sucking around your clit as two of his thick fingers pushed into your heat, sliding in and out of your entrance with ease from how wet and worked up you were. Curling his fingers ever so slightly, you cried out as Joel bumped against your g-spot, pushing against the soft, spongy spot as his tongue worked its magic. 

You could feel the arousal shooting through your veins, heat beginning to bloom in your stomach as Joel fucked you with his fingers and mouth, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his thick, brown hair to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. 

“J-Joel, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, I’m c-close. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You whined, pussy beginning to flutter around Joel’s fingers, the tightening only egging him on further to get you to cross the finish line. 

With just a little more pressure of his tongue, Joel could feel your cunt clamping down around his digits, watching the pleasure shoot through your body as you came, your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami. 

As you reached your high, Joel drank up your arousal, not faltering in his pace, too focused on your pretty cries of his name being chanted like a prayer to do anything but keep going and making you feel good. 

Truth be told, Joel had gotten so lost between your thighs, the only thing stopping him was the tensing feeling between his, so pussy drunk and determined to fuck you full of him that he was worried he was about to cum too if he didn’t stop. 

Pulling off you, Joel frantically stood up, racing to undo his belt and jeans, yanking them down his legs in tandem with his boxers as his cock slapped against his stomach, precum already pearling from his tip, desperate to be inside of you. His shirt quickly followed his pants, ripping it over his head as his broad body caged yours under him, helping you to scoot back on the bed until your head hit the pillows, trailing kisses up and down your body the whole way. 

As Joel kissed and nipped at your skin, you quickly shuffled off your top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him, moaning as his tongue flicked against each of your newly exposed pebbled nipples, grouping your breast and kneading the soft flesh in his palms. 

Even though you had just came, you could already feel your cunt starting to clench around nothing, desperate to feel Joel inside of you, to stretch you out with his thick cock and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. But with the way your chest was heaving and breath shaking from your orgasm, you could barely muster out the words you wanted. 

“J-Joel, p-please, baby. P-please.” 

You snaked your hand between your bodies to reach for Joel’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you stroked him, trying to guide him to slide between your legs and ease your ache. 

Lowering his hips, you moved your hand and let his replace it, Joel pumping himself a few times before guiding his tip between your folds, collecting your slick to coat his cock, using every last ounce of self-control he had as his eyes locked with yours, wanting to see your face as he pushed inside you. 

“Please, what, darlin’?” Joel teased, knowing damn well what you were begging for. 

“Need to feel you, Joel. Need you to put a baby in me.” You moaned, reaching up to grab his face, your palm rubbing against his stubble as your fingers tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck. 

With one more pump, Joel lined himself up with your entrance, sliding into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting of his length making the breath hitch in the back of your throat, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you with his tip just kissing your cervix. 

Joel couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your mouth fall open, parted lips letting a soft moan escape while your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the newfound sensation, giving you another moment to adjust before he began to slowly roll his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your core. 

“Christ, baby girl, so wet and tight. Like this pussy was made just for me. Made for me to fuck ya full of me until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take.” Joel groaned, reaching down to grab your thighs, pinning your knees to your chest, stretching you open to take Joel even deeper, practically feeling him in your stomach with the position he had you in. 

“Joel, oh my god- fuck, you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Want you to fill me up so bad.” You whimpered, Joel now beginning to pick up his pace as he thrust in and out of you, continually punching in that perfect spot over and over again, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting. 

Joel’s fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs down just far enough to be chest to chest with you, the sweat dampened curls of his forehead brushing against yours as your mouths met in an electric kiss, catching each other’s muffled moans with each snap of Joel’s hips. 

“Yeah, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see what a pretty momma you are, carryin’ our kid?” Joel grunted, picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your baby, wondering how many you’d let him give you, because fuck, he’d keep knocking you up until he had nothing left to give. 

Each push and pull of your bodies against each other felt more and more electric, an undeniable coil tightening in your stomach with the way Joel was pounding into you and the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, already feeling yourself beginning to teeter on the brink of pleasure once again. 

“Yes, fuck, fuck- yes, Joel. I wanna have your baby. Want you to knock me up so I can make you a daddy. Please, baby, please.” You were all but sobbing at this point, your fingers digging into the tan and sweat sheened skin of Joel’s broad shoulders, overwhelmed by the lewd combinations of Joel’s heavy pants in your ear and wet squelching of your pussy as his pelvis flushed against yours repeatedly. 

Joel could feel you beginning to tighten around him, pussy sucking him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to clamp around his cock and milk him for all he was worth. 

“That’s it, darlin’, I know you’re close. Gotta cum for me first though, baby girl. Gotta feel ya soak me before I stuff ya so full of me, I swear t’god, you’ll be drippin’ outta me for days. So fuckin’ full that I’ll get you pregnant right now.” Joel groaned through gritted teeth, leaning back to reach and grab your leg, wrapping it around the small of his back before you lifted your other to join it, locking your ankles to keep him as close to you as possible. 

“Joel, oh my god, fuck baby, fuck, I’m gonna- fuckfuckfuck-” 

Suddenly, your orgasm was rushing through every inch of you, crying out as the pleasure hit you like a freight train, choking Joel’s cock with your pussy, unable to do anything but relish in the white hot bliss that had you nearly floating out of your own body. 

While Joel would have kept fucking you until the sun went down, the truth was he was relieved to feel you cum, spending every second since your agreement in the kitchen trying to keep from finishing until he was balls deep inside you and you were soaking his cock as you reached your high. The realization that now was his chance to make good on his promise, to fill you up and fuck a baby into you, ignited something primal, feral, in him, pounding into you at a punishing pace as he could feel himself teetering on the brink of collapse right with you. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Shit, I’m gonna cum too, fuck- gonna fill this tight lil pussy up so goddamn much, give you a baby, make you a momma, oh fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Joel let out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milked himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his spend, making sure nothing went to waste. 

He couldn’t help but but press even further into you, plugging you with his length and fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it took, collapsing on top of you with his cock still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both caught your breath. 

Joel was convinced he had never cum so much in his entire life, afraid that if he pulled out, that somehow he’d have more left to give, and sure as fuck wasn’t going to risk letting anything coming out of him end up not inside of you. 

Well, not until your muffled grunt rumbled beneath him. 

 “Joel, baby, I love you but you’re kinda squishing me.” You huffed, giggling to yourself as you watched your husband come-to in real time out of his post-orgasmic state, immediately offering a half muttered apology as he rolled off you, sitting back on his knees to admire the shiny and slick mess between your legs. 

“Fuck me…” Joel murmured to himself, eyes wide as he stared at your pussy- wet, puffy and soaking with your arousal, bringing his fingers to your spent hole as he watched a dribble of his cum begin to leak out. Gently scooping it up, he collected everything he could, pressing it back into your cunt before pulling his hand out. Crawling up the bed to lay next to you, Joel wrapped you up in his arms as the little spoon, peppering ticklish kisses over your back and shoulders, making you burst into laughter. 

“Joel, stop! That tickles!” You squealed, squirming in his grasp, trying to defend yourself from his unrelenting attack of soft, plush lips and scratchy beard dancing across your skin. 

“Don’t laugh so damn hard, or all my hard work’s ‘bout to come out!” Joel teased, giving you a playful nudge, pulling you in even closer. 

“Stop making me laugh, then! Plus, I think you came enough to put quadruplets inside of me, so I think we’ll be okay.” You snorted, Joel joining in on the laughter. 

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard in my whole goddamn life.” Joel sighed, shrugging as you rolled your head up to look at him and that stupid goofy grin he got whenever he couldn’t contain his excitement about something. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Joel.” 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Joel slowly bringing his arm to rest across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing careful circles on your skin. 

“You’re gonna make such a good mom. I’m the luckiest man alive that you wanna have a family with me. Still not really sure what I ever did to deserve it.” 

“Joel! You’re gonna make me cry! And this is before pregnancy hormones, ya jerk.” You tried to laugh, choking back the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Yeah, what a jerk, your husband tellin’ you how much he loves you.” He teased back, planting a long kiss on your temple, before pressing another one to your lips. Another wave of soft silence followed, watching Joel’s face scrunch in a calculated concentration. “How big of a crib you think I gotta make? I don’t know ‘bout a rockin’ chair, but a crib can’t be that hard. I gotta measure the guest room tomorrow.” 

“Honey, I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet, you don’t need to have a crib built tomorrow.” You teased, laughing at Joel, despite the fact his mind was already thinking about a baby room and accessories had you melting. 

“Sweetheart, what did I say earlier? I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till we know there’s a baby in there.” He smirked, nodding at his hand still splayed across your stomach, “So you better get comfortable, ‘cause if it’s up to me, there ain’t a chance in hell we’re gettin’ anything but a positive pregnancy test at the end of this month, and we'll sure need that crib nine months from now. Never hurts to get a head start."

Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

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@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[bootsukki]

AITA for saying my 5-year anniversary is just another day, making my girlfriend mad?

aita series masterlist next part

wanings: angst, communication issues, swearing

The restaurant buzzed with the sound of clinking glasses and lighthearted conversation. Tsukishima sat at the end of the table, picking at his food, his usual expression set in a cool, indifferent mask. Across from him, his girlfriend, (Y/N), was laughing at something Yamaguchi had said. The group of friends had gathered for dinner, as they often did, the easy camaraderie between them keeping the atmosphere light. Yachi and (Y/N) were sat side by side, murmuring about something as they picked out pieces of their food.

“Hey, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi started, cutting into the relaxed mood. “You guys have been together for four years now, right? Any big plans for your five-year anniversary coming up?”

The question made (Y/N)’s heart flutter. They hadn’t talked much about their anniversary yet, but after being together for so long, she had imagined something special was in the works.  (Y/N) had been feeling kind of sad the past days, not seeing Tsukishima enough due to reasons he hadn’t explained to her but she still had the hope of it just being a busy time at the museum. Tsukishima had been training a new coworker, Mia, and although she didn’t like her that much, she kind of understood that there were a lot of protocols at the museum that had to be followed. 

She turned to look at Tsukishima expectantly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Tsukishima, though, didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he took a sip of water, leaned back in his chair, and shrugged. “It’s just another day,” he said flatly.

The smile vanished from (Y/N)’s face instantly. The words hit her harder than she had expected, like a punch to the gut. Her chest tightened, a thousand thoughts racing through her mind, none of them good. After everything they had been through, everything they had shared, was their five-year anniversary really just another day to him?

She glanced around the table, everyone else had fallen silent, awkwardness creeping in. Yamaguchi shifted uncomfortably, clearly not expecting that kind of response. The rest of their friends exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether to laugh it off or change the subject.

Tsukishima wasn’t big on surprises and they always made plans for dinner but he hadn’t said a thing yet. (Y/N) had the silly dream of him proposing and she even told Yachi about it. Not only Yachi, but him as well which he answered with a smile.

(Y/N) swallowed hard, forcing a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Just another day, huh?” she muttered under her breath, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Tsukishima’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at her, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “What?” he asked, his voice sharper than usual.

(Y/N) clenched her fists under the table, anger starting to simmer in her chest. “You really don’t care, do you?” she said quietly, but there was an edge to her words that caught everyone’s attention.

“Care about what?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused but annoyed at the same time.

“Our anniversary! Us!” (Y/N) stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Lately, it’s like you don’t even care anymore! You’ve been staying out late, barely texting me, and now this? ‘Just another day’? What the fuck, Kei?”

All of their friends stopped their conversations as they saw (Y/N) standing up.

Tsukishima’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening. “You’re being dramatic. I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy?” she repeated, her voice rising. “You’ve barely been home! You don’t talk to me, you don’t ask how I’m doing, and now you say our anniversary is just another day? What am I supposed to think?”

(Y/N) could feel everyone’s eyes on them, but she didn’t care. This had been building up for weeks, and now it was like a dam had broken. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her emotions swirling between anger and hurt.

Tsukishima sighed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of this.”

“You don’t see why I’m making a big deal?” (Y/N) couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Tears of frustration were welling up in her eyes, but she blinked them back, not wanting to cry in front of everyone, completely embarrassed about the situation. “You don’t get it, do you? You’ve been so distant, and I don’t know what’s going on with you anymore.”

Tsukishima’s eyes flickered, but his face remained stoic. “You’re overthinking it.”

(Y/N) felt like she had been slapped. His words felt dismissive, like he didn’t care at all about her feelings, like her fears and concerns meant nothing. She grabbed her bag from the back of her chair, her hands trembling with anger and hurt as some tears finally made their way out, coating her cheeks.

“I’m done,” she said, her voice shaking. “Sorry guys.”

“(Y/N)? Where are you going?” Yachi asked her, worried as she looked at their friends, clearly not knowing what to do.

“I don’t know.”

With that, she turned and stormed out of the restaurant, leaving their friends sitting in stunned silence.

Yachi grabbed her bag and coat, sending Tsukishima a glare, saying something under her breath and following (Y/N).

After (Y/N) stormed out of the restaurant, Tsukishima sat there, his hands clenched tightly in his lap, the tension rolling off him in waves. He felt the eyes of his friends on him, but he didn’t dare look up. The heaviness in his chest, the kind he could usually ignore, was now impossible to shake. (Y/N) was not wrong about it, he had been spending nights at the museum, working overtime and taking paperwork home. He woke up during the night to go into his office at home and keep working, completely stressed. 

If she only knew…

Yamaguchi shifted uncomfortably beside him, glancing toward the door where (Y/N) had disappeared. “Tsukki…” he began softly, but Tsukishima cut him off with a sigh.

“I know,” Tsukishima muttered, rubbing his temple. He could already feel the irritation bubbling beneath his skin. It wasn’t like he didn’t care about (Y/N), but how was he supposed to handle all of this at once? Work had been relentless, and every spare moment he had, he was trying to plan their future. He’d never been great at expressing himself—something (Y/N) knew better than anyone—but it seemed like this time, he had really messed up.

The table had fallen into an awkward silence, none of the others quite knowing how to break the tension. Tsukishima didn’t stick around for long after that. He tossed some cash on the table, muttered a stiff goodbye, and headed home.

As he arrived home, he texted her, messages left on delivered. He hated going to sleep without fixing their problems.

Running a hand through his hair, he called her. He didn’t know what he was going to say to her. How was he suppose to tell her everything without spoiling everything he has worked and planned for? Would she even pick up?

"What?"

There was a brief silence on the other end, just the faint sound of Tsukishima breathing before he finally spoke.

"Where are you?" His voice was steady, calm—too calm.

"I’m at Yachi’s." Her words came out clipped, tension already thick between them. "I needed space."

There was another silence, and (Y/N) could practically feel the weight of it pressing down on her. She had expected him to ask more questions, maybe show some concern. But instead, he was quiet.

“You didn’t say anything,” Tsukishima finally said, his tone flat. “You just left.”

(Y/N)’s jaw clenched. She could already feel the frustration rising, boiling just beneath the surface. "You didn’t give me much reason to stay. You didn’t even try to stop me.” she shot back, her voice colder than she wanted it to be.

His sigh was audible over the phone, a soft exhale of frustration. "You’re overreacting."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Overreacting? Was that really what he thought? After everything they had been through the past year with moving and the stress of his new job and deadlines of her book, all the nights he came home late or didn’t come home at all, brushing off their anniversary like it meant nothing—she was overreacting?

"I’m overreacting?" she repeated, her voice rising. "Kei, you’ve been disappearing for days, barely talking to me, acting like I don’t even exist half the time. Do you know how that feels? Do you even care?"

"Of course I care about you," Tsukishima snapped, his calm demeanor slipping for the first time. "But you’re making a big deal out of nothing."

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh in the quiet room. "Nothing? So me feeling like I’m losing you is nothing? Our anniversary is nothing? Us is nothing to you, is that what you’re saying?"

Tsukishima didn’t respond immediately, and the silence that followed only made her anger flare hotter.

"I didn’t mean it like that," he muttered, but his voice lacked any real conviction. It sounded more like he was trying to calm her down, to brush aside her feelings.

"Then what did you mean, Kei? Because right now, it feels like you don’t care. It feels like you’ve already checked out of this relationship." (Y/N) stood, pacing across Yachi’s small living room, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew Yachi was probably listening to their conversation but she couldn’t care less about it. She sniffed. “You act like I’m supposed to just accept this. Like it’s normal for you to disappear and not talk to me. Like I’m supposed to just be fine with it. We've been together for almost 5 years, we should know by now how to communicate with each other."

"You’re not giving me a chance to explain," Tsukishima said, his voice dropping, more annoyed now.

"Then explain!" she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion. "Explain to me why you’re never home! Explain why you can’t even be bothered to talk to me when you are! Explain why our anniversary is just ‘another day’ to you, when it’s supposed to mean something! Explain why it feels like I don’t matter to you anymore!"

There was a long, suffocating silence.

"You don’t get it," Tsukishima said finally, his voice low and cold. "You don’t understand what’s going on, why I…”

"Because you won’t tell me!" (Y/N) felt the words rip from her throat, raw and desperate. "You won’t let me in, Kei! You won’t let me help, and then you act like I’m the one being unreasonable? I’ve tried. I've tried to gvet you to tell me what is going on, why you come home that late... I’ve tried to be patient, but I can’t do this alone."

"I never asked you to do anything alone," Tsukishima muttered, but his tone was distant, like he was speaking just to end the conversation.

"That’s the problem!" (Y/N) yelled, her frustration bubbling over. "You don’t ask. You don’t say anything. You just keep everything to yourself and expect me to be fine with it. But I’m not fine, Kei. I’m not fine with you shutting me out. We are a couple, we should be there for each other, in good and bad situations but you... You don't care about it."

Tsukishima sighed again, and this time it was heavier, like he was already tired of the conversation. "I don’t have time for this right now."

(Y/N) froze. The words cut deep, the final nail in the coffin. 

"You don’t have time for this?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "You don’t have time for us?"

"That’s not what I meant," he said quickly, but the damage was done.

"No," (Y/N) said, her voice steadier now, but full of cold, quiet anger. "I think that’s exactly what you meant. You don’t have time for this. For me. For us. I guess you have all the time in the world for Mia."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Don’t twist my words," Tsukishima said, irritation clear in his tone now.

"I’m not twisting anything. You’re the one who’s been distant, who’s been shutting me out. You’re the one who doesn’t have time for me, and I’m done pretending like that’s okay. You're the one always doing things at work, spending an absurd amount of time at the museum, spending nights at the office, door closed as if..." She bit her lip, her throat tightening with unshed tears, not daring to say what she was thinking about. About him possibly cheating with the perfect Mia, who had the same interests at him. Mia, who threw herself at him just to get his attention. Mia, who was perfect and could talk about everything Tsukishima loved... She wanted to throw up just by thinking about it. "I can’t keep waiting around for you to decide whether or not you want me in your life, Kei."

Another long silence.

(Y/N) felt her heart drop. She had wanted him to fight for them, to say something—anything—that would reassure her that this was just a rough patch, that they could work through it. But instead, all he gave her was more distance by saying nothing to her.

"Tsukishima, are you going to say something?”

For a moment, she thought he might say something more, but the line stayed silent. The weight of their words hung in the air, unspoken truths pulling them further apart.

"That's my answer then. I’ll come get my things tomorrow," (Y/N) said quietly, trying to keep her voice steady, though her heart was breaking. 

"What? (Y/N), don’t say things like that. Don’t even think about it." Tsukishima muttered, his voice cold and distant again.

“How can I not?” She was now sobbing, Tsukishima’s heart breaking at the sound of her hurting. “You are not willing to even tell me that you want me in your life.”

And just like that, the call ended, the silence on the other end of the line as heavy as the emptiness that now filled the space between them.

*****

“It’s 2 in the morning.”

“I know.”

“You know that I have a kid sleeping upstairs, right?”

“Yes.”

Akiteru tsukishima looked at his younger brother, making way for him to enter his house. Without notice, the younger sibling had made his way towards his brother’s house, not knowing what to do. Akiteru had already noticed the tension radiating from his younger brother and made him some tea.

“You look like hell,” Akiteru remarked, setting the cups on top of the coffee table.

Tsukishima shot him a glare, but it lacked its usual sharpness. “Thanks,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Akiteru leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Tsukishima didn’t respond right away, staring at the grain of the wooden table as though it held the answer to all of his problems. After a long moment, he finally spoke. “I messed up with (Y/N).”

Akiteru raised an eyebrow. “What kind of ‘messed up’ are we talking here?”

“The kind where she walked out and told me she would get her things from the apartment,” Tsukishima admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He hated saying it out loud, but he couldn’t deny it any longer.

Akiteru’s expression softened, his usual teasing tone nowhere to be found. “What happened?”

Tsukishima explained everything—about the dinner, his cold response to the anniversary question, (Y/N) accusing him of not caring, and how he had been spending nights working late. 

When he finished, Akiteru let out a low whistle. “Sounds like you’ve been under a lot of pressure,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But… Kei, you can’t just shut her out like that.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Tsukishima snapped, frustration leaking into his tone. He regretted it immediately, but Akiteru didn’t flinch.

“I know,” Akiteru said calmly. “But what did you think was going to happen? You don’t talk to her, you’re distant, and then you dismiss your anniversary in front of all your friends? Of course she’s going to feel like you don’t care.”

“Akiteru, I…” Tsukishima sighed. “I’ve been working late to get a few days off of work, so I can take her on a trip and propose.”

Tsukishima’s shoulders sagged. He had been so wrapped up in trying to plan the perfect proposal, trying to juggle work and life, that he hadn’t considered how it all felt to her.

“I’ve never been good at this stuff,” Tsukishima admitted quietly, his voice raw in a way that it rarely was. “I thought I could just… handle it.”

Akiteru smiled softly, “Propose? Are you serious?” The younger man nodded, placing his forehead on the table.

“I fucked up.”

“Kei, relationships aren’t something you just ‘handle.’ They’re messy, they take work, and sometimes you have to talk about the hard stuff, even if it sucks. But if anyone’s worth the effort, it’s (Y/N), right?”

Tsukishima’s heart clenched at that. (Y/N) was worth it. She was worth all of it—the frustration, the awkward conversations, the vulnerability. He had never cared about anyone the way he cared about her, and the thought of losing her because he had been too proud or too stubborn to open up made him feel sick.

“You need to talk to her,” Akiteru said firmly. “Skip the proposal part. Tell her everything. Tell her about the trip. I promise you everything will be alright.”

Tsukishima nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, sleep catching up to him.

*****

AITA for saying my 5-year anniversary is just another day, making my girlfriend mad?

Hey, Reddit. I (M23) have been dating my girlfriend (F23) for almost 5 years. Our anniversary is coming up soon, and it’s kind of a big deal since it’s our 5-year mark. I have been working overtime to get money and time for an surprise anniversary trip for us and I haven't been home that much and when I came home, I kept working during the night. My best friend (M23) and some others friends, including my girlfriend, were out for dinner, when he asked me about my anniversary plans. Without thinking too much, I shrugged and said, “It’s just another day.”

My girlfriend started to freak out to the point of leaving the restaurant and the apartment.

AITA?

User 1:

YTA!!!!!!! OF FUCKING COURSE she would freak out about something like that! Anniversaries are important and more so when they are about milestones such as this one. You need to fix this ASAP.

User 2:

Dude, I can't defend you on this one, YTA. That was a shit show. You could have told her that you weren't in the mood to celebrate or something but instead you said it in the worst way possible and in front of other people. That would probably broke her heart.

User 3:

YTA. you could have told her you had a surprise planned or something.

User 4:

Bro...

author's notes: this will have a 2nd part, out in a few days! :)

[biteyoubiteme]

apologize

yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis: you do have to say sorry when you hurt feelings

warnings: 🔞!!! oral (f!rec), slight fingering, orgasm denial/edging, multipul orgasms (f!rec), biting, crying, overstim mentions, no protection, creampie, Yeonjun calls reader baby once, reader mentioned as a girl by gyu, prob forgot some

wc: 1.7k

an: this was a request! hope I did it justice <3 feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

it wasn't often that Yeonjun was mad at you, annoyed yes, but never really angry. only tonight was different, all of your friends were out together at one of the dorms. a glorified study session that was only an excuse to hang out and have dinner. all of you are sitting around the couchs joking around after your meal. you should have noticed the switch when you didn’t hear his soft chuckle, Yeonjun sitting between you and beomgyu on the sofa. 

Yeonjun would usually add to the teasing but as you leaned over giggling, playfully hitting Beomgyus arm Yeonjun Reached out to pull your hand back. his fingers twisting in yours drawing Beomgyus attention, “aw is someone upset I make their girl laugh more than they ever could?” 

“you’re asking for it,” you laugh leaning your head on yeonjuns shoulder, “but it might be true,” you whisper making gyu burst into laughter, pointing at Yeonjun as he huffs a humorless laugh. you were always joking, it was never serious, Yeonjun would play along with the fake annoyance, his tongue running along his teeth as he tried to hold back his laugh. but it wasn't like that this time. it was one of the first hints at his mood and you tried to backtrack, “he's good at other things,” but the damage was already done. 

the drive home was spent in near silence, the radio softly playing as you scrolled on your phone. both of yeonjuns hands on the wheel instead of having one on your thigh like usual but you didn’t notice. kicking off your shoes when you got to the apartment you made a beeline to the bedroom to change, following your usual nighttime routine. moving to grab your pajamas from the dresser you don’t even hear Yeonjun following you but when you turn he's sitting on the edge of the bed. leaning back on the heels of his palms as he watches you, his indifferent look the opposite of his usual loving gaze. 

“What's wrong?” Your sweet voice is so sympathetic, ready to fix any problem he has. 

“I didn’t find it funny,” 

“Find what funny?” you’re genuinely curious as to what he's talking about, he can see it in the way you tilt your head, the way you trace your eyes down his body to try to point out what possibly could have started this mood shift. 

“Your joking, from earlier,” your shoulders relax, and his jaw ticks. 

“oh,” your soft laugh brushing him off, “I'm sorry jjunie it was nothing you know that,” 

“Do I?” It's the slight tilt of his head that makes his intentions known, the way that one strand of hair sits on his brow, the way he glances from you to the floor right at his feet. it wasn't often that Yeonjun got this way but you knew what he wanted. you slipped to the floor, sitting back on your heels right in front of him. 

“Do you want me to show you how sorry I am?” you ask hands in your lap waiting for his answer. He sat forward putting his elbows to his knees so that he could bring his face closer to yours, noses nearly touching. 

“no, I'll be sure to get it out of you eventually,” he brushes your cheekbone with his thumb making your eyes flutter. He traces down to your lips tapping along their seam prompting you to open your mouth enough to fit the digit in. With his thumb in your mouth he wraps his other fingers around your chin to hold you in place as he kisses your nose. “Do you think you can handle your punishment?” 

You don’t have much freedom to nod but the slight movement makes Yeonjun smile. He lets you go, taking his thumb back and motioning you to stand. tugging on the end of your dress you assume he wants you to strip only he pulls you forward between his legs before guiding you to bend over his knee, your cheek pressed into the bed's comforter. He flips up the skirt of your dress, feeling along the waistband of your panties. “something I did find funny was how giggly you were with gyu,” 

“yeonjun-“ 

“no, speak when asked,” his finger slips along the seam of your underwear following the curve of your ass before lifting the elastic to let it snap back against your skin. your hips twitch at the sensation, hands twisting in the duvet, toes just barely touching the floor. his fingers dip further tracing over the fabric, running over the outline of your cunt purposefully avoiding your clit. 

you want to push back against his hand he's ghosting over you, the light touch making you want to whine but if you moved he would only drag your punishment out longer. Yeonjun can feel your wetness through the fabric and he circled his fingers over your clothed entrance before moving to your clit. your hips jerk at the feeling and you expect him to pull away but he doesn't fingers picking up speed as he rubs at your clit. “Wait,” you gasp, your orgasm building too fast when he barely had his hands on you but as soon as Yeonjun saw your toes start to curl he pulled his hand away. “no-“ you try to push back against his hand but he tisks sliding it to your inner thigh to hold you still but even that light touch goes straight to your clit making you whimper. 

“If you want to cum I'd listen for when you’re told to speak,” both his hands go to either of your thighs, groping you to make your pussy lips spread. you can feel his erection in his jeans, pressed against your pelvis, every movement from you grinding right down on him. When he thinks you've come down a bit he goes back to feeling you over your panties, slow circles back on your clit to drive you crazy. 

you’re already so close, your soft moans filling the air as you pull your knees together. “apologize,” it is one word but it's in one ear and out the other, your hips moving to try to chase your orgasm before it's ripped away from you again.  

“nooo,” your hips wiggling against him enough to make him completely pull himself away from you. He stands leaving you laid out on the bed. but before you could move Yeonjun was pulling down your panties, not even getting them past your knees, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and wedging himself between your legs, his mouth on your clit making your back arch. Your shocked yelp turned into a strained moan, white-knuckling sheets, face buried into the mattress as he sucked. it was enough to bring you right back to the brink of your orgasm, thighs trembling with need. you were so sensitive now that if you did cum you would pass right into overstimulation if he kept his mouth on you but Yeonjun pulled away again. you could feel the tears brimming in your eyes, “please jjunie, please,” your begging mixed with a soft sob. 

“Are you going to say sorry?” he asks, rubbing soft shapes on your inner thigh to watch you tremble. he was using his free hand to wipe at his bottom lip collecting your wetness and putting it back into his mouth. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I-“You’re cut off by your own throaty moan as he leans back to give one last harsh suck to your clit. your orgasm hits you like a truck, clenching around nothing, you can hardly breathe. you don’t hear the sound of his belt being undone, so out of it until you feel the head of his cock catching on your entrance, your whine at the stretch music to his ears. he's rough as he slams into you pressing himself deep enough to hit your gspot. your hips roll back as you feel your second orgasm hit you out of nowhere, spots in your vision as Yeonjun presses his mouth to your ear. “say it again,” 

you’re too lost to speak, gummy walls clenching around him as he keeps up his pace, your mouth open in a silent moan, a small spot of drool on the comforter where you’re laying your head. “Say it again,” he demands through clenched teeth, your wetness making it so easy to slip in and out of you, all of your slick down the back of your thighs making every thrust leave a wet slapping sound echoing. 

“I know that pretty mouth does more than just laugh at other boys' jokes, say you’re sorry,” when you don’t answer he wastes no time in slipping a hand between you and the mattress to rub at your clit again. your whole body reacts, squeezing around him as you cry out, “I'm sorry!” his hips stuttering as he reaches out to hold one of your hands, his face burying into your neck as he cums, the warmth triggering another orgasm for you, your face now tear-stained as you twitch under him. you bring your interlocked hands to your mouth biting down on one of his fingers, his breath hot on your skin, trailing moans rumbling along your back as his thrusts slow to a stop. he keeps himself buried inside you, kissing along your shoulder and neck as you both wind down. 

you whimper when he pulls out of you, the gush of your combined release slipping out and down your leg. Yeonjun scoops up any cum he can before shoving his fingers back into your cunt finger fucking it back into you. “yeonjun,” your soft whisper is the only sound in the room. He tugs your panties back into place before climbing into the bed with you, pulling you close to his chest. 

“I really am sorry,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck, your whole body feeling weak. 

“I know baby, i'm not upset,” he kisses the top of your head, “I know it was only a joke,” 

“I don’t like it when you’re angry with me,” 

“You don’t?” he chuckles, his hand rubbing up and down your back. “I shouldn't have let you cum at all then huh,” 

“Okay, maybe I do kinda like it,”

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez wanna be added to the taglist? send me an ask

[myfictionaldreams]

Day 19: Marking - Remus Lupin

Summary: Remus accidentally bites your neck too hard and leaves indents of his teeth, and now it's woken something within him, needing everyone to see the mark he's left on you.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, possessive, biting, thigh riding, keeping quiet, licking, sucking, marking, oral (f receiving), size kink/difference, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, creampie

masterlist 📚 

kinktober masterlist😈 

AO3 Link 

“Remus! You've left a mark on my fucking neck!” you huffed in frustration as you bared your neck further, trying to see the damage your boyfriend had left in your reflection in the cracked mission of the girl's bathroom. It was your favourite place to sneak away to have some alone time which, usually meant fucking against the stall as the bathroom on the third floor wasn’t in use due to the resident ghost, moaning Myrtle, who knew to travel elsewhere when you and Remus came to visit.

Your boyfriend was straightening his tie when he looked up at you, “Shit, did I?” To give him some credit, he sounded genuinely concerned as he came closer, turning your body to face him to inspect your neck. The tip of his index finger and thumb tilted your chin away gently, his forest green eyes dancing over the area of your neck that throbbed slightly. “Oh, I really did mark you up,” he acknowledged his warm breath that smelled faintly of your pussy drifting over your cheek, causing the area to warm in embarrassment. The pad of his thumb brushed over the indent of teeth marks, surrounded by irritated skin from where he’d bitten you during the heat of the moment.

“Does that hurt? When I touch it, does it hurt?” he asked, his voice softening with his gaze. 

“No, it doesn't hurt, but everyone is going to see it. I can't exactly walk around wearing a scarf during class; it's the middle of summer”. Stepping away from him, you rubbed over the area of your neck that had begun to tickle under his delicate touch. Looking up into his bright eyes, you noticed they were still staring at the spot where your fingers were now caressing.

Even though he appeared to be in somewhat of a serious mood, especially as his hands hurt you, there was something more, and fear crept up your spine that maybe the area had begun to appear worse. Quickly turning back to the mirror, you inspected your neck but found it seemed the same.

Your eyes wandered back up to your boyfriend, asking, “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Remus continued to gaze at your bite mark, his scarred hand lifting to stroke along your jaw. “I don't know”, he admitted, but the deepness of his voice had your eyelids fluttering. “I just like seeing my mark on you. It’ll remind everyone who owns you.” Even though his words were possessive, the smile that peaked on his lips proved he was jesting.

Stepping closer until your neck was aching from a different reason to the mark as you had to tilt back so far to see up into his taller face. “Is that you talking or the possessive wolf?” your smile matched Remus until he was chuckling under his breath as you shoved him against his chest, laughing just as hard. “Asshole, you don’t own me, I am a strong, independent woman”.

Remus dipped his head, laughter still dancing in his eyes, but his words were full of a different type of tease, “Are you sure about that? Weren’t you just saying ‘im yours’ as I fucked you?”

He knew instantly that he’d won when you looked away, body heating in embarrassment. “Not the point”, you huff, returning to looking at your neck in the mirror. “Still doesn’t mean I want to walk around with a giant bite mark on my neck; what am I supposed to do?”

Remus rifles through his school bag until he found the well-used tin he always kept with him as it held a green salve that eased any injuries he’d gain from the full moon. “Come here”, he gently asks, holding out his hand for you to take as he walks into the light a bit more so he can see better. With as much care as he could muster, Remus carefully applied a light layer over the bite mark. You tried not to focus on his fingers' pressure or the intense stare that further warmed your skin. Remus had you wrapped around his little finger, that was for sure, and he could tell by the humming of your pounding heartbeat that he felt as he pressed against your throat.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a knowing smile spread across Remus’ face, but thankfully, he began to stand up to his full height, declaring, “All done, you’re as good as new”. He kisses your cheek dramatically before letting go so that you can return to the mirror. The bite mark had healed entirely, and a light sheen from the salve remained.

“Thank you!” you say rejoiced and relieved. Grabbing his hand, you begin to pull him towards the exit, “Come on, the others’ class should be finished by now.

The remainder of the day was pleasantly ordinary. However, you could constantly feel Remus’ eyes on your neck, to the point that you were checking in any reflective surfaces to see if the mark had returned, but it hadn’t. You weren’t sure if it was the desire you saw in his eyes or sympathy as he tended to regret accidentally hurting you through the rough, intimate moments, even as you pleaded with him that you loved every second.

The first time the two of you were finally by yourselves was when it was time for bed. “Is everything okay? You keep looking at my neck and making me paranoid”.

You’re both squished together in his bed in the men’s dormitory, facing one another and whispering so that the others couldn’t hear; even though the curtains were drawn closed, you both had to keep the volume entirely as silencing spells weren’t as effective in the beds which were only discovered after a highly embarrassing night.

Remus lifts his head to rest on his fist, staring down at you, “I just keep thinking about that mark on you”. Lowering his face, he gently kisses over the area of your throat where your pulse throbbed the hardest.

Sighing gently into the touch, you reciprocated the delicateness by running your fingers through his soft hair. “I kept thinking about how much I liked seeing it on you”. Ever the tease, Remus shifted further over your body, turning you slightly onto your back to allow his thigh to push between yours.

“You…did?” between your legs where Remus’ thigh was pressing on began to warm as he tried to keep his voice hushed, which meant that it sounded even more, hoarser than usual, and each draw of his words sent tingles straight to your core. Remus knew you were becoming more aroused and knew his effect on you. Carefully and without any rush, he cupped both of your hands together from behind his head and pushed them up so they were now above yours on the pillow as he held them in one hand.

He nods in answer to your question as he continues kissing up and down your exposed neck, which you bared fully for him. “I just keep thinking about everyone else seeing it, knowing I gave it to you, that you’re mine, and they can’t have you”.

A smile graces your lips as you say with a hint of tease, “You’re very possessive. Has anyone ever told you that, Mr Lupin?”

He groans deep in his chest whilst being mindful of the volume as his open mouth moves up your chin until he’s hovering over your lips, his breath mixing with yours as he confidently states, “You love it”.

You’re arching to try and kiss him, but he keeps moving away. “I do”, you admit which was all he was waiting for before kissing you deeply, breathing heavily against your cheek as your lips move in synchronised passion. His fingers tightened around your hands, holding you down entirely as your body seemed to react of its own accord, hips rolling and lowering so that your naked pussy could rub against the toned muscle of his thighs. As you ground down harder, your clit was massaged and tweaked against his body.

The kiss was momentarily paused as he dipped his face next to yours so that his lips hovered next to your ear as he asked, “Because I’m such a nice boyfriend, I’ll ask this time. Do I have permission to bite and suck wherever I like?”

You knew that he had more salve left in his tin, so without even thinking about it, you pleaded, “You have permission to do anything you want to me”.

Remus didn’t rush; he’d suffer the consequences of being tired tomorrow, but decided it was worth seeing you all riled up. With every inch of self-restraint, your boyfriend's lips caressed back down your neck, so softly that it tickled and caused your whole body to shiver. Especially as he licked certain areas and blew cool air across them, goosebumps would peak over your skin at the action.

As he reached your collarbones, he teased further but this time with his teeth, nipping sharply before easing the pain with a simple kiss. Lower he moved whilst still holding your hands above your head, his thigh remaining stable between yours so that you could continue to get yourself off. You were breathing heavily, back arched to try and move closer as he hovered about your perked nipple.

Remus licked the very tip of your nipple first to see how you’d react, smiling to himself when you accidentally let an innocent moan out before quickly biting your lower lip to shut up so that the others in the room didn’t hear. Shifting his face so that his mouth was just about your nipple, his mouth lowered and sucked harshly, his chin rubbing against your nipple, adding extra stimulation. Again, he licked over the area that now lightly throbbed from where all the blood had gathered at the surface, knowing it would be tender tomorrow.

He did this to each breast, avoiding your nipples altogether, which only made you feel more desperately turned on, which was evident by the wetness soaking the hair over his thighs. He moved, journeying down your sternum and stomach, leaving a sprinkling of bites and hickeys. The most sensitive area - where he had to hold a hand over your mouth to stop your cries - was the inside of your hips, where he knew you were ticklish, but as he sucked and then bit the area, your thighs trembled as the sensation pulsed desire to your core.

If your hands were free from their restraints, you’d have pushed his face lower, especially as the awkward position meant his thigh had disappeared. Thankfully, Remus knew you were melting in the palm of his hand, so he lowered to where you wished. Keeping one hand still holding your wrists and the other over your mouth, Remus was able to lower his face between your legs, which you spread willingly.

A single kiss against your folds had your eyebrows knitting together and moaning so desperate to be released that for a second, you didn’t care if anyone heard you. Remus wanted to release his groan as his lips were now coated in your juices, and he hadn’t even delved deeper yet.

“Gotta keep quiet for me. Can you do that, Love?” Remus asks so that his breath brushes against your core. You nod your head, deciding to bite your tongue instead of your lip as his hands disappear from both your mouth and hands so that he can grip both of your thighs, pushing them back so that you are spread out wider for him.

With a lick to his lips to taste you fully, he contemplated just getting right into it, but instead, he began to bite and mark your thighs. If he wasn’t biting, he was licking or sucking until you were shaking and grabbing to hold onto his hands that were still holding you. You were thoroughly drenched and begging for him to touch any of your pussy, but you made sure to keep your mouth shut. Even though it was dark in the cramped space of his enclosed bed, Remus could see how much you were losing your mind.

Finally snapping his restraint for holding back, he released his hold on your body and began to crawl up it instead until he crowded around you, all long limbs covering you completely. It wasn’t often that you both fucked in his bed, especially with everyone else in the room, because it was nearly impossible to stay quiet, which is why you both sneak away during the day to shag in a bathroom stool. However, Remus couldn’t deny his best girl from being pleasured how she wanted, now when she was currently coated in his marks.

“Silenco”, Remus waved his wand that had been hidden beneath the pillow, causing the atmosphere to sound as if cotton was in your ears, but even with the spell, the bed would creak, and the gaps in the curtains would leak out noise, but it was better than nothing.

You were soaked enough that he didn’t need lube or even spit as he reached between your bodies to swipe his cock between your folds, parting them to gather as much fluids as he could over his impressively sized cock. As he positioned himself at your entrance, he kept one hand over your mouth and then muffled himself by dipping his head between your neck and pressing his lips against your skin.

Your jaw trembled with the desperation to open it and let out the more pathetic of moans as he slowly thrust in, taking his sweet time to allow you to adjust. Your hands settled over his back, careful of his sensitive scars, before digging your nails into the surrounding areas to pull him closer.

In the random areas across Hogwarts that he was able to pull you into supply cupboards or bathroom stalls, Remus fucked you relentlessly hard and fast until his pelvis was a blur. But, in the dormitory, on the rare occasions that you both did have sex, it was slow, with deep penetrations that filled you up to the very brim.

Every single drag of his cock had your eyes shut, with the overwhelming sensations dispersing through your nerves. It felt like he was touching every single part of you at the same time. Your walls fluttered around him as he moved deeper until the tip kissed your cervix, a sweet touch compared to his grip on your throat. It was almost like he was trying to hold you down like a dog in heat, and it did cross your mind to check whether the full moon was any time soon with how possessive he was being.

You’d cum twice by the time his thighs began to tremble, and he was no longer able to hold his tongue anymore. 

“Look so good with my marks on your body, so fucking pretty and desperate for me. Gonna make you mine, so full up and covered in my bites”. His hand rested over your abdomen as he spoke, caressing the area over your womb. “You gonna take it? Like you’ve taken my marks?”

You nod, your hands over your mouth now as you knew it would have been a blubbering sob that would wake everyone in the room if they hadn’t already awakened from Remus's demands. With a powerful thrust that nearly shoved you entirely up the bed, Remus stilled, but you could feel the pulse of his shaft and the way he trembled as his hot seed soaked into your hole.

Thankfully, you were already on a potion for birth control; otherwise, Remus probably would have made his breeding wish come true. After a couple of seconds of catching his breath, sweat coating both of your bodies from the humidity in the enclosed bed space, Remus finally collapsed next to you, turning your body onto its side so he could spoon around you.

You were exhausted and falling asleep before you could nuzzle into the feeling of his lips kissing the marks over your shoulder and neck soothingly. Thankfully there was no noise from any of the other bunks in the room so you assumed everyone had not been woken by the fucking.

The following day, you wake bleary-eyed, and Remus is kissing underneath your ear from where he still lay wrapped around you from behind. Stretching your body and groaning at the sensation of your muscles and joints waking for the day, you giggled as he nipped your ear lobe, “Morning”.

His voice was always so low and husky when he first woke up, but it only made you want to lean into him further, finding his voice soothing and comforting. However, your stomach grumbled to life, alerting both of you to your hunger, which made him chuckle. “I’m hungry too”, he declares, moving further down the bed to open the curtain, shuffling through the clothes on the floor before handing yours over and closing the curtain. From the sounds of it, the other boys were beginning to wake up as Remus changed in the dormitory and you in the curtained-off bed, giving you some privacy from everyone else.

Your muscles ached from the night's activities, but you didn’t think much of it, and it was too dark to notice the darkened areas on your body, which you, too, had forgotten about. Shuffling awkwardly, you eased back the curtain with a sing-song voice shouting, “Morning boys! The sun is shining; what a beautiful day!”

Sirius’ bunk was opposite yours; his curtains were pulled back as he sat up in bed with a soft smile at your morning antics. Wiping the sleep from his eyes, he did a double take, looking over your body with wide eyes before it slowly shifted to a deep-set smirk.

Whistling lowly, he glanced between you and Remus. “Merlin Moony, did you try and chew your girlfriend to death last night?”

Your entire body burned with embarrassment as you looked at your knees, which were bare as you’d dressed in a skirt, seeing the apparent marks on the sensitive inner flesh. “Shit!” you cursed before grabbing your neck, remembering how much Remus had enjoyed playing there last night and shouting, “Shit!” again before rushing to the bathroom, thankful no one else was there.

The mirror in the bathroom gave you the perfect view of the thoroughly marked column of your throat. How could you have forgotten? You were mortified, to say the least. Remus casually leans against the door frame, tying his school time as you hide your embarrassed face in your hands.

“I’m never leaving this room ever again, Sirius is going to tell everyone!”

Remus’ warm body slides up behind yours as he eases your hands away from your face, “I’ll tell him not to, don’t worry. Anyway, I told you I like people seeing these marks on you; it makes me want to do more”. He begins to kiss along your jaw, your body instantly melting into the embrace before you snap out of it and elbows into his gut, pushing him away.

“Stop being so possessive and go and get the salve, please”.

Remus playfully rolls his eyes and then leans in close, whispering into your ear, “I’ll get rid of the ones on your neck and knee, but the ones under the clothes are staying”.

He didn’t even give you time to answer before he walked off, and you were feeling warm under the skin for an entirely different reason now as you thought about walking around all day with all his marks over your body. Maybe you would keep a few, you decided, especially when you get to see him riled up like last night.

[ikarakie]

eddie's impression of steve harrington only really begins to turn around not because of henderson's constant insistence that he's a really cool dude now, but because of his brief interactions with robin goddamn buckley.

he first realises that she's affiliated with him when she pokes her head into hellfire club one day. she asks henderson if he's seeing 'the dingus' tonight, and when henderson confirms that he's picking them up, she tosses a green vest at his face. asks him to give it to him, since he's working an opening shift and left it at hers. eddie only realises later that she was talking about harrington, and the implication that he'd stayed overnight had him reeling. buckley was a weirdo. a band geek. what was king steve doing associating with her?

it only gets weirder. he goes to one of sinclair's games, and ends up a few rows behind harrington. he's whooping and cheering and so goddamn excited for the kid when he gets to play. when the band performs, he screams robin's name during the applause. she finds him in the crowd and sort of wiggles her shoulders excitedly in response. after the game, he sees him scoop her up in the biggest goddamn bear hug and kiss her on the cheek. not the kind of couple he'd expected, but they were cute. he supposed.

but then the kiddies stop her in the hallway a week or so later, asking something about a movie night at harrington's. eddie can't really help himself, he was a curious thing.

"so, buckley," he begins, leaning against a locker. "i'm dying to know how a band geek like you landed king steve as a boyfriend." to his side, henderson sighs, heavy and dramatic. robin gets the most genuinely disgusted face.

"oh, god. ew." she says, emphatically. "i am not dating steve. gross." she fucking shudders at the thought. eddie can't keep his jaw off the floor.

"no?" he asked. "but- the game, the other week. he kissed your cheek." she nodded. he gestured wildly in lieu of response, begging for more information.

"stevie and i," and eddie has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. because, seriously? stevie? she expects him to believe they're not together and she calls him stevie? "are strictly platonic. with a goddamn capital p! people can express platonic affection even if they're different genders!" henderson mocks her quietly, to which she whacks him on the arm. she turns back to eddie. "i think if anyone should understand, it'd be you, handkerchief."

eddie feels his stomach drop. robin's giving him a look. a knowing fucking look. arms folded across her chest, one eyebrow raised. surely not.

"you?" he asks. she nods. "so harrington-"

she cuts him off. "knows." and wow. wow. colour him fucking surprised. "was the first one to know. he's-" there's a pause. "he's cool. so fucking cool." she was so fond, smiling a little. "he's a really good guy. i love him to death."

and well... he believes her. truly fucking does. it's only then that he finally allows the walls he'd built around his opinions of steve harrington to falter, to allow himself to think maybe- just maybe- he is actually is a good dude.

[luvhotchner]

omg hi!!! i love your social media AUs and so I wanted to submit a request! totally understand if you don’t wanna do it but yeah, so maybe like an instagram au where reader is posting about aaron being all sweet and taking her out to dinners and in general being all romantic and the bau is like since when?? they’re all surprised by how nice aaron is being! i’d love to see this thank u!!!!!!!

heart eyes - a. hotchner

summary: the soft launch of their relationship shocks the team.

warnings/pairings: hotch x BAU!gn!reader (but reader wears long nails), swearing, established relationship, just a lot of fluff tbh.

ahhhh thank you for the request!!! sorry it took so long but here it is and i hope you like it! ❤️

first instagram au! tell me what you think! fic under the cut!!

━ ★ ━

y/n.y/l/n

♡ liked by thedavidrossi, itgirl_emily, and 578 others.

y/n.y/l/n IM IN LOVE IM IN LOVE IM IN LOVE. NO ONE TALK TO ME IN IM LOVEEEEE.

👤 : aaronhotchner05

view all comments…

chocolatethunder SORRY WHAT.

↳ y/n.y/l/n 😋

itgirl_emily THIS ISNT EVEN A SOFT LAUNCH, THIS IS FUCKING CRAZY

↳ jjiscraycray WHAT THE FRICKEN FUCK IM SCREAMING

bbygirlgarcia i. knew. it. I FUCKING KNEW IT.

aaronhotchner05 i’m so in love with you ❤️

↳ y/n.y/l/n thank you for dinner and for keeping up with me and my shenanigans 😘

↳ aaronhotchner05 your “shenanigans” are what make me love you.

↳ chocolatethunder I BEG YOUR FINEST PARDON?!?! SINCE WHEN IS HOTCH NICE?!

thedavidrossi no wonder aaron is only nice to y/n.

↳ spencerwreid oh shut up he’s nice to you too

┉┉┉

aaronhotchner05

♡liked by y/n.y/l/n, chocolatethunder, and 136 others.

aaronhotchner05 y/n told me to post this because it’s “aesthetic”.

👤 : y/n.y/l/n

view all comments…

y/n.y/l/n no, i just like to look at your hands 🥰

↳ aaronhotchner05 ugh you’re awful.

↳ y/n.y/l/n shh you love me!!

↳ aaronhotchner05 yes, that i do.

itgirl_emily SINCE WHEN IS HOTCH LIKE SUPER KIND AND CARING?!

↳ y/n.y/l/n since always???

chocolatethunder WHAAAAAT?? FIRST THE DINNER AND NOW THIS LOVEY DOVEY SHIT?? WHAT IS MY LIFE??? i don’t believe my eyes.

↳ y/n.y/l/n well then believe it cause he is the best boyfriend EVER!! 💞💖💓💗💝💕

↳ spencerwreid my jaw is on the floor. the floor is unsanitary. i don’t like this situation at hand.

↳ itgirl_emily ur dramatic.

bbygirlgarcia i’m going insane. i’m going insane. IM GOING INSANE.

↳ aaronhotchner05 one psych eval coming your way.

↳ jjiscraycray SEE!! HES AN ASS TO ALL OF US. I AM GENUINELY IN SHOCK.

thedavidrossi i’m with the others when i say im shocked, but im really happy for you kids ❤️ take care of them, aaron!

↳ aaronhotchner05 i will, thanks dave.

↳ y/n.y/l/n you all could learn a lil something from papa rossi over here.

[tac-the-unseen]

JUST READ THE COD GANG REACTING TO READER FALING AN ORGASM SO WHAT IF READER ADMITS THEY NEVER HAD ONE BEFORE?????? LIKE- NEW RELATIONSHIP??????? SORRY FOR CAPS IM ECSTATIC RN BC UR WORK IS SO GOOD🫶🫶🫶🫶🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌

COD characters finding out that Reader's past lover(s) have never given them an Orgasm.

Am I exactly sure what Anon is asking? No, But I will persist.

I'm choosing to write this with the interpretation of Reader never having an orgasm even though they've had sex with others. (The other way I read it was that Reader just flat out never had an orgasm before, and I think that's extremely unrealistic. So we're going with that one) ALSO because of the prompt You and the guys have yet to bump uglies!

Ghost:

•Simon is a little confused "Like...None of them?"

•He takes it very seriously

•He asks you to elaborate a little more. He just wants to know if the other guys sucked (or just didn't in this case) or if you two needed to do something specific in order to please you.

•He understands if you need some kind of accommodations and will ask you what he needs to do

•You and Simon have a long discussion over what you want your first time with him to be like. He makes sure you both have a clear understanding of what's to come (ha).

Soap:

•First thing he says is “Would you like to?”

•He thinks it's a little funny but really sad too

•”Darling, you're too pretty to let subpar men just use you.”

•He immediately wants to show you how it's done and what you've been robbed off

•He asks if he can take you for a “good ol' mustache ride”

Price:

•”Young men are dumb.” He says and takes a drag from his cigar

•”But I guess it's nice to know I have no competition.” He smiles

•He does talk to you about your needs and what he needs to do to meet them properly

•He takes you out on a nice dinner date, goes on a nice walk with you, and end up with his hands wrapped around your waist taking you home

Alejandro:

•Can not stop laughing

•As soon as you tell him he erupts into a fit of giggles. He takes him a full 3 minutes before he calms down enough to hug you and pat you back.

•”You poor thing.” he chuckles and kisses your cheek. “I'll make sure to make up for all their failures, Mi querida.”

•He’ll ask you what they were doing down there the whole time. Which leads to even more laughter when you tell him.

•”But I think I should buy you a nice dinner first.” he winks

Roach:

•Stunned

•Absolutely floored

•”Like never?” He signs. You can see the horror in his eyes

•He’s got his head in hands, contemplating life. He's so concerned for you. He has to take a moment of silence to comprehend the level of incompetence the men in your life must have had.

•When he finally sits up he looks you directly in the eyes and signs “Thank God I'm good with my hands.”

Gaz:

•Slowly turns his head to look at you with his brows furrowed and confusion

•Is too shock to speak

•He gets up to pour himself some Scotch

•”How many times have you had to fake an orgasm?” “8” he proceeds to down the entire drink and pour himself another

•This time he hands it to you “You need this more than me.”

Rudy:

•He gets up and takes a lap around the house

•When he gets back he pulls you into a hug

•”You deserve so much better, Mi Tesoro.”

•Kisses your jaw and runs his hands down your back. “I can give you so much better.” He tells you in-between kisses

•He offers you himself until your properly satisfied, for however long that takes

König:

•”Why do you like incompetent men?”

•He means it in a genuine way, But he accidentally reads you to filth.

•”Why spend your time and affection on someone who cannot please you?” he asks. “I didn't want to seem shallow.” You replied. “Shallow? Liebste, No.”

•He practically scolds you for allowing such men into your life. It's actually the most you've ever heard him speak. Which really tells you how upset he is.

•”You're Lucky I'm here. I will not let such things happen ever again.”

•And fuuuck, he means it

Mace:

•”Other men are filthy animals.” he tells you like it was a normal thing to say

•He gets in close to you and rests his arms on your hips. “Don’t get me wrong, I'm a man whore.” He laughs lightly and kisses you “But you knew that.”

•He asks you for all the funny details and thinks it would make a decent bonding experience.

•He tells you about his less than great sex stories and failures

•”Rest assured sweetheart, I'm a pro at making people scream.”

Thanks for reading <3

(I realize now that I wrote them all in different mindsets of this prompt... Good luck with that, I guess)

[alwaysobsessed777]

I WAS ENCHANTED TO MEET YOU - N.M. (my wattpad fic)

This is from my nika fic on wattpad....if yall want me to keep posting the chaps on here i can. just know its a long one....and i mean currently at 30 chaps and still not done.

ENJOY!!

 "Seriously, do I have to go?" I pout as Ava pulled me to the line of people.

    "Duh, like come on Tate. You've been here for 4 years and haven't gone to one of the women's basketball games," She acts like it's such a big deal, "Matter of fact, you don't go to any sort of games. You don't have any fun and I'm gonna change that."

     I laugh, "Really, I'm plenty of fun. It just consists of me in my comfy bed, covered up, watching TikTok all day."

    "My point exactly," She says matter-of-factly.

     I roll my eyes. Ever since I became roommates with Ava, she's made it her job to make me more social. I talk to people, just they happen to be out of state and I don't really talk to them, I text them. 

     "You remember that edit I showed you the other day?" As if I could remember, girl shows me like a hundred a day. 

     "You're gonna have to be more specific on that," She pulls out her phone.

     "The girl with the blonde hair, there's braids in the front, that help," She clicks on a video in her favorites on TikTok, "This one."

     "Oh, yeah. Why?" I'm genuinely confused on what this has to do with anything. 

     "Look at the jersey," I finally realize, and I'm guessing it showed it on my face because Ava says, "Exactly, that will give you a reason to watch."

    I laugh. After I came out to Ava, she's been nonstop showing me edits of women. Some of them I knew, others I didn't. But her showing me an edit of someone from our school, that's another level. 

   "How do people even make edits of a college basketball player?" We start moving closer to the door. 

   "Well, maybe because people are obsessed with her and find their ways. Also, she's like the best basketball player of all time," She puts emphasis on her points by using her hands, "Plus, they show games on where ever people watch sports."

    "Don't you follow the sport? Shouldn't you know where they watch it?" I ask her.

    "Correction, I follow the players who are hot and talented, not the sport," I shake my head.

    We finally make our way inside, sitting where our seats were. People crowding around us. I never realized how many fans our team had. I mean, I heard people talk about it but never pictured this. I watched as the teams warmed up, I saw the blonde that was in the edit Ava showed me, she was wearing the number 5. I saw a shorter girl wearing the number 2, and a tall girl with yellow and purple braids. Then I saw the prettiest girl I've ever seen. She wore the number 10 on her jersey, her hair up into a slicked back ponytail.

   "You might wanna pick your jaw off the floor and wipe the drool off your chin," Ava said pulling me from my thoughts. 

   "What," I snap my head to face her, "Oh, shut up."

    I slap her arm, causing her to groan and grab it, "Ow, I was trying to help you from making a fool of yourself."

   "Also," Ava started, "The blonde, Paige, you can't drool over her. She's currently talking to someone."

   She starts to point to herself, "Oh my god, seriously? Why didn't you tell me sooner? Is that why we're here?"

   She shook her head yes, "At first, I didn't want to tell you."

   I cut her off, "And what made you not wanna tell me?"

   "I just wanted it to be ... I guess ... real. Like I felt like it was going to go somewhere."

   "And you think it's going to go somewhere?"

   "I mean she did ask for me to come to the game, but I couldn't come alone," She grabbed my hand, " I had to bring you."

The smirk she had on her face told me she was up to something, "Ava, what am I doing here?"

"I mean, I might've told Paige she could set you up with one of the girls on the team."

"AVA! Why would you tell her that ," I felt my face turn blood red.

"Tate, you're literally 22 years old, never had a girlfriend, and has never had their first kiss. At least you have chance for it to be a hot basketball player."

I gave her the dirtiest look I could give her, "Okay, and?"

"I'm just trying to help you a bit. I can tell Paige you're not up for it."

"No, it's fine, I guess. I have to learn to give people a chance, Including you and Paige."

She smiles ear to ear, "I mean, Paige already has someone down to go out with you, but I don't wanna tell you who it is yet."

"What, no. You have to at least tell me who it is," I beg.

"Why don't you try and guess, " Why does she play too much.

"Okay, whatever."

                            *******************************************

As the game went on, I pay attention to each of the players, but one kept catching my eye. Number 10, which I found out was Nika Muhl after her name was called at the beginning of the game. 

 I had named off a couple of the players numbers, getting nothing from Ava. 

"44," She shook her head no.

"Ava," I start to pout, "Just tell me."

"I'm surprised you didn't say it first," she points to the players, "the one you've been drooling over the whole game. Number 10, Muhl."

I gasp, "No way, I can't do that."

"Why cause she's someone you're actually interested in?" I smack her arm. 

"No, she's just so pretty. I wouldn't even be able to talk to her. Like, I would be a stuttering mess. I ... I can't, nope. No way."

Ava starts to laugh, "Oh you'll be fine. After you talk to her for a minute, everything will go smoothly."

Paige makes a foul shot, Ava jumps up yelling and cheering for her. I swear she's the loudest person in this room. Paige must've heard her because she looks into the crowd, finding us. She winks and turns back to the ref with the ball.

"Oh god, now I'm going to have to talk to Nika. I can't, I'm gonna leave now," I go to stand up, but before I could stand all the way up, Ava pulls me back down.

"Oh hush, don't overthink it."

"Too late."

A couple of minutes later, our team called a timeout, causing the girls to huddle with their coach. But in the back of the huddle I see Paige and Nika talking. While their talking, Paige starts to point in Ava and I's direction. Nika's gaze follows, meeting me. She smiles and waves. I send a small one back. She laughs and looks back at Paige.

"Aww, you're blushing," Ava jokes.

"Shut up, Ava, " I put my head into my hands.

I looked at the time left, oh god, there's 56 seconds left in the game. I feel myself start to freak out.

"Hey Ta, it's alright," She patted my knee.

"I know A, but I don't know what to say to her," I fidget with my fingernails, "What if she ends up not liking me?"

"She'd be stupid not to like you," She pulls out her phone, "here let me show you this."

She pulled up an edit of Nika, "Dude why are you showing me this?"

"To show you how hot your future girlfriend is, " She laughed, I rolled my eyes.

"I haven't even talk to her yet," I heard the buzzer go off. 

"Well, you're getting ready to though, " She pulled me up with her to move through the crowd.

Everyone was cheering, UCONN just won 86 - 72. While everyone was celebrating, all I could think of was what I was going to say to Nika. This woman gives me butterflies and I haven't even talk to her yet.

[ivoryrebellionmess]

Spooky remorses II

Part I

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: hiii omg i cant believe so many people liked the first snippet. thank you so much, honestly, i am beyond excited. so here´s a follow up, hope youu like it <3

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean

Word count: 4096

As you got to the middle of the dancefloor you saw Juice and Hazel and went over. Juice and you had gotten close while you dated Jax. He was easygoing, funny and nerdy, and the first of the boys to warm up to you. 

He lifted you from the floor when you hugged, ¨How are you Juicy??¨. 

He seemed genuinely happy to see you, and he gestured to Hazel when he answered, ¨I´m great. You look awesome, the fangs are hot¨.

Finally someone complimented you on the fangs, you personally considered they made you look way hotter, but whatever. 

Your relationship with Juice had always been the find of friendship where it feels like you´ve known each other forever, so flirty jokes had always been present. Hazel seemed surprised at the closeness you had with him, but it made sense that you had friends there if you had dated Jax for a year and a half. 

¨While you two catch up¨, she interrupted smiling, ¨I´m going to the bathroom and to get another drink¨

Juice and you danced for a little while when his shirt sleeve rolled up and his bicep was visible. Before you could help yourself, your hand was on it.

¨What the fuck happened to you since I´m not around? You on steroids or something?¨ Juice laughed at that and shook his head. 

He flexed his muscles while he talked about the new work out he´d been doing, ¨You like it?¨

He kept flexing his arm, and you kept laughing and touching him. Both of you oblivious to Jax´s stare, a mix of annoyance and jealousy. Chibs wasn't obvious though, and he did what he was there for. ¨You don't look too happy there, Jackie-boy¨.

Ever since he'd seen you go in, he was on edge, he didn't know why. Okay, he did, you looked awesome and it wasn't for him. He regretted what had happened between you, and he felt guilty, he should've stood up for you to his mom. And now you were there, all gorgeous. But it wasn't for him, and you weren't with him. You were with Juice, admiring his muscles. And it pissed him off. You thought you could just walk in? Not even say hello? Prance around looking that good? Flirt with one of his brothers? All of that in front of him?

Juice and you were still joking around about how girls just swooned when they saw his ¨guns¨, as he liked to call them. If Jax thought that was as bad as it got, he was wrong when a song you loved came on and you seemed determined to have Juice dance it with you. He eventually accepted and pulled you close to him by your waist,  your arms around his neck. Jax was burning holes between his brother's tats when Chibs decided to continue his quest.

¨They´re getting cozy, aren't they?¨. He could feel the scot staring, but his eyes were glued to you.

To Juice´s hands on your waist, to the space separating your bodies that seemed to be getting smaller by the second. And your face, you were laughing at something, you lit up when you laughed. The way your right hand traveled from Juice´s neck to his arm again, squeezing it teasingly. He could feel the tension in his jaw, how tight he was gripping the beer, his knuckles white. And so could his brothers. 

Then, you turned your head to look at him, your gaze uninterested and bored, and said something in Juice´s ear. That was it, you had crossed a line. Ignoring him was one thing, but that look of pure disinterest, you could not ignore what you meant to each other. So he started walking before he could think about it, not knowing what he was going to say when he got to you. 

While you danced and joked, you suddenly felt Juice´s demeanor change, but you didn't need to ask what was going on.

¨Shit, I don't think Jax is loving this¨. He didn't stop dancing, but you could tell he was being careful. 

You decided you were not going to take it seriously so you retorted, ¨Why wouldn't he like us dancing?¨

Juice chuckled, but his tone was serious, ¨Don't play innocent, you know he's jealous¨

You just couldn't resist a peek, was he really?, so you turned your head, very focused on keeping a neutral face, and looked at him. He did look jealous, and annoyed. You tried not to let it get to you, trying to have a good time. 

So you made a joke, you had to get close to Juice´s ear so he could hear it, ¨Is he scared you´re gonna make a move on me or somethin´?¨

Instead of an actual answer, you saw Juice´s look of terror. Turning around, you understood why. Jax was walking towards you, an angry look on his face.

Juice´s whisper got mixed with yours, ¨Oh, hell¨ and ¨For the love of god-¨

Jax stopped in front of you, his eyes flickering back and forth between you two. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw before speaking in the coldest tone you'd ever heard from him. 

¨What the hell is going on?¨ It was an easy question, with an easy answer, but you weren't feeling like taking the easy and safe route. 

Did you know he probably thought you were flirting? Yes. Did you care? No.

So, before you could think, or Juice could answer, the snarky remark was out your dark red lips. ¨What's it look like, genius?¨

It didn't seem possible, but his jaw clenched harder, he wasn't even looking at you. ¨It looks like you're flirtin´with Juice, gettin´all up on him right in front of me¨ There was something bitter about the way he answered. 

¨You think I care that you´re here? ¨ Of course you did ¨You think I did this for your attention?¨ You hadn't, you actually hadn't. You were just trying to have some fun and ignore the hottest guy in the room. 

Jax knew you were just trying to provoke him, and it was working, but he refused to give you the satisfaction. He just hated seeing you two together, laughing and having fun while he was miserable. And maybe he also hated how damn close you had been dancing. The way you were looking at him, a challenge in your eyes. Go ahead, make a scene. He absolutely hated that he was about to.

He took a step closer, lowering his voice. ¨I don't think you did it for my attention, but now you have it. So cut it out¨ 

What did he think was going to happen? You'd just agree? No, he just wasn't thinking straight anymore. 

You, of course, only challenged him further. All that was needed for that were a scoff and two words. ¨Or. What.¨

Another step closer, you could touch him if you wanted to. ¨Or you´ll find out, that's what¨ He just growled an empty threat, you both knew it. He also knew he was out of patience and you were not going to keep pushing his buttons. 

You realized something then, he had growled, and you heard him. How had you been able to hear him with all of the noise…everyone was staring at you. Well, fuck. 

¨Okay people this isn't a show, go back to the party¨. With that, you left the clubhouse, only stopping against one of the picnic tables to lay against it and breathe deeply. 

Jax´s eyes followed you, as they had through the night. He could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on him, this had turned into a bit of a spectacle. He let out a frustrated sigh as he followed you to the picnic table, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. 

You heard him before you saw him, and as usual around him, you spoke before you thought. ¨You did always like to be the center of attention¨. 

The snarky comment had Jax gritting his teeth, his anger flaring up again. He did not speak, however until he was standing in front of you, arms crossed over his broad chest. 

¨I don't know what the hell your deal is tonight, but you´re really pushing my buttons, you know that?¨ 

To that, you only shrugged, looking at him coldly. ¨My deal is I just wanted to have some fun¨

Maybe looking at him had been a mistake, if he had looked good from afar, he looked even better right in front of you, illuminated only by the streetlamps. He was wearing what he always wore, and still he had never looked better in jeans and an oversized white t-shirt. Your face did not show any of that obviously, it was neutral. He could tell you were angry though. But you could tell that so was he, so you were in a tie. 

Fun, that was what you were calling it? He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. ¨Yeah, real fun. Gettin´all cozy with Juice, practically making´out with him in front of me. That your idea of fun?¨

You bit your lip, trying not to lose it on him, the fake fangs drawing his attention. ¨So let's see if I got this right¨ You put all the poison you could in your words, hoping they stung as much as seeing him again did. ¨You´re mad that I danced with Juice, whose attention was on me, as opposed to dancing with you¨ You poked his chest before continuing ¨who didn't even say hi when I walked in?¨ 

He felt a pang in his chest at that, you were right, he´d been so caught up in his anger and jealousy that he hadn't even considered how he had ignored you up until that point. Jax looked away for a moment, a flash of guilt in his eyes. 

¨I didn´t-¨ He started to defend himself, but cut himself off, you were right. Instead he let out a frustrated huff.

¨Yeah, that's what I thought¨ You let a beat of silence pass, then looked at him again. Fuck he looked good . ¨Got a smoke?¨ You needed something to do with your hands.

Jax looked confused for a second, his eyes scanning your face, staying on your lips for a second too long. He was still mad at you, but he obliged. ¨Yeah¨

He patted down his pockets until he found a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He took one out and handed it to you with his lighter. You only took the first, bringing your hand up as you asked , ¨Light me?¨

His pulse quickened at the simple request, something about the way you said it. A bolt of desire went down his spine. Something in him wanted to challenge you, so instead of just lighting it, he took the cigarette from your fingers and placed it between your lips, lightly brushing them. You made an effort to not show the way he affected you. Jax then leaned in closer, shielding the flame from the wind with his hand, not touching you. Your eyes were locked on his, the intensity of the moment almost unbearable. The fire made his eyes sparkle, you got lost in them. 

His gaze was still fixed on yours as you took the first drag, his face so close to yours he could almost feel your breath on his lips. The intimacy made his heart race, his anger slowly fading into the background. Your anger also became less and less prominent, upstaged by a complexity of feelings. 

Jax grabbed the cigarette from you and took a drag of his own, never breaking eye contact. The air between you was electric, crackling with tension. It was hard to breathe, having him so close. He blew the smoke, you felt it on the tip of your nose before it was blown away by the wind. His blue eyes were relentless, never breaking from you, not as he took another drag, and not as your hand searched for his to grab the cigarette. It felt like the tension was growing thicker by the second. Jax was very aware of how close he was to you, how easily he could just touch you. 

He watched you smoke, and you watched him. Until your eyes focused on the cigarette instead of his blue ones. You followed the lipstick stained cig, and then your eyes stayed locked onto his lips. They wrapped around the end of the cigarette, then closed while he held the smoke in, and finally parted to let the smoke out. Jax could feel your gaze on his lips, it made his stomach clench with desire. 

He took another drag, slowly and deliberately, his lips closing around the cigarette in a way that was almost sinful. To top it off, he let out a low hum, eyes never leaving yours even if you were not looking him back, mesmerized by his lips. He was fully aware of the effect he had on you. And you both knew it. You cursed him mentally when you realized he was doing it on purpose.

When he hummed though, that was straight up mean, and this time the curse came muttered under your breath, ¨fuck-¨

Jax smirked at your cursed response, his ego inflating. He could tell he was riling you up, and he was loving every second of it. 

¨What was that, baby?¨ His voice was low and dripping with false innocence. And using baby so casually, like he would while you were together. None of it was accidental.

He took another drag, this time he watched you with a wolfish smile playing on his lips. You couldn't let him win.

Your hand went up to his face, sneaking the cigarette from him and taking it to your own lips. You exhaled the smoke in his face, lips almost brushing his. 

¨Didn't say anything¨, you played along with his innocence, replicating it.

Jax´s heart skipped a beat when your hand snatched the cigarette from his mouth. He could feel your breath on his skin when your lips came so enticingly close to his. The innocent facade only making it harder not to close the space between you. But he knew it was only an act, one he wasn't buying.

He chuckled lowly, ¨Yeah, sure you didn´t¨. His eyes fell to your lips again. Your gaze was fixed on his eyes, the hungry look in them making it harder to think of a comeback. 

You did what you could, taking a drag, hoping it would distract you, it didn't. ¨Yeah, sure I didn´t¨

Had it been the smartest thing to say? No, but it was the best you could come up with, so it would have to do. You had to up your game, he couldn't  win. Jax  found your teasing infuriating, it was also hot, yes, but infuriating. He was on edge, trying to keep his thoughts in check each time your lips wrapped around the cig. The need inside him to kiss you senseless was overwhelming, clouding his brain. 

¨You're such a damn tease¨, he growled, ¨you know that?¨

To say that the growl had made your knees weak would be an understanding, so you decided to bring it up a notch too. It was only fair. 

You replied in what could be considered a purr, rather than actual talking. ¨Don´t know what you´re talking about¨

His body ached to touch you, he gritted his teeth, wanting to kiss you until you couldn't breathe. Hell he wanted to kiss you until you couldn't remember your own damn name. The next time he talked you could hear the desire dripping in his rough voice, ¨God damnit, darlin´¨

You liked the effect that had had on him, so you purred again, this time closer to his ear. ¨What is it baby?¨ 

You hadn't meant to call him baby,  it slipped, you got too lost in the heat of the moment. If you weren't so distracted, you'd realize the importance of what you had just said, the major step back you'd taken in getting over him. And his beautiful blue eyes. And his perfect lips. But he didn't give you time to think about all of that because his eyes darkened, his body stiffened by the tension. The sultry purr, calling him baby, you made him want to show you how much he'd missed you. 

¨You know damn well what you're doing to me¨, the desire was mixed with a bit of a warning. It did nothing to scare you off.

Using the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette, you pulled him closer by his belt loop, all caution thrown to the wind. 

¨Remember when we used to smoke together? Blowing the smoke into each others mouths?¨. You sensed him nod, watching him clench his jaw.

The reminder of those memories felt like a punch to his gut, your mouths touching, feeling your breath against him, the way your kisses would taste,...Jax felt like he was drowning.

His hands came to rest on your hips and his voice was barely  rough whisper, ¨Yeah, I remember¨

You hummed, enjoying the feel of his hands on you, yours now resting on his abs, ,¨Havent done it in a long time, have you?¨

You could feel him tensing under your hand, fingers caressing his skin over the white cloth. His mind was spiraling, it had been so long since he felt your touch, and he wanted more. Jax tried to pull himself together, shaking his head and looking at your eyes. 

His husky voice broke the silence, ¨No¨, and hesitantly, he added, ¨Not since you¨.

The hold on your hips got harsher, holding steady against his body. It made you press your legs together, and even worse, it pulled a groan from your throat. The fact that he hadn't done it with anyone else held significance, it felt like it was yours, it was something you did whenever your screaming matches reached a dead end. You´d share a cigarette, and it always led to this, which always led to bed. Or a couch. Or wherever. Even the pool table once.

Your legs pressing together did not go unnoticed, igniting in him the urge to pin you against the picnic table and take care of it himself. But he needed to keep some semblance of control, even if it was slipping further and further away. He did lean in closer, pressing himself against your body, his mouth so close to your ear you felt his beard scratch it. 

But you couldn´r let him have this, so taking control over your body. Okay, maybe taking control was an exaggeration. Regaining an inch of self control, you whispered in his ear, ¨Wanna do it again? for old times sake?¨

Jax´x breath hitched as your breath ghosted over his ear, it took him a few seconds to understand what you said. And when he did, a shiver ghosted down his spine. His eyes fell closed as he fought the desire inside him, the want to do very ungentlemanly things to you against that table. But when had he even been a gentleman? He opened his eyes and looked at you, sending sparks though your whole body. 

When he spoke and you looked up to him again his eyes were practically burning with desire. ¨Fuck yeah, I do.¨ His voice was barely above a whisper, yet it seemed to resonate through your whole body.

You did not have the strength to do anything, scared that your hands would tremble or your voice would shake. It wasn't a problem, because Jax took the cigarette from your hand, letting his knuckles graze your fingers. Your touch against his abs was driving him crazy. So did your smell. And so did your eyes, which were locked on his lips. The heat of your body, even if it was a chilly october night, made his mind travel to dark places. He took a slow drag. 

¨Open up¨, his voice was raspier, holding the smoke in his lungs. 

Your lips parted on their own accord, your head moving closer.That made Jax hum, itching to close the space between your mouths. His next command came right before he exhaled, not giving you time to react or answer, ¨Inhale¨. So you just obeyed, lips barely touching his. 

That graze sent a wave of heat through his body. Every little detail, from the way the smoke curled around your nose to your hand tracing patterns on his abs, was more overwhelming than the last. It was a hard fight against himself, against the crippling desire to fuck you right then and there. The anticipation though, was making the moment hotter and hotter.

Your self awareness, the little voice screaming don´t do this, seemed to have disappeared with your self-esteem when he next ordered: ¨Hold it in¨. You almost moaned at that, his dominant side had always had that effect on you. Your hand moved to his waist, needing somewhere to hold on to before your knees gave out. 

Your hand clutching his waist, that brought back memories. way more naked memories. Your body pressed against his, he was sure you could feel how hard he was against your thigh. And you could. It was distracting. You felt his arm move up again, but your eyes were locked on his. 

Jax got closer as he spoke, his lips now millimeters from yours, ¨Ready?¨ You could taste the smoke as you exhaled. 

Then your mind managed to work for a short second, what did he mean by ready?. ¨Another one?¨

Jax seemed to be a second away from tearing your dress off  as he answered, ¨Yeah…another one¨. It was a challenge, he was challenging you, the stubborn bastard. But you were definitely not losing this fight. 

So as the cigarette came closer to his lips again, you snatched it, ¨My turn. ¨

He could hear it in your voice, you were fighting a losing battle, so was he. The idea of losing control with you in this moment, though, seemed appealing and terrifying at the same time. What you got instead of an answer was a groan and a rub,  his impossibly hard dick against your soft thigh. You didn't realize you had moaned until he mocked you for it, ¨You need to keep it together baby¨, then his head moved lower as he bit your earlobe, ¨We haven't even started yet¨. 

His sass, as much as it bothered you, was hardly enough to keep you from clashing your lips with his. But he pulled away, his voice dripping sex and cockiness, ¨Show me what you got¨, nodding to the cig in your hand. And you had no voice but to obey. 

So you took a long drag, hoping it would distract you from the ache between your legs. It didn't. Moving the hand from his waist to his face, you caressed his lower lip and decided to throw his words back at him. 

¨Open up¨. You sounded way more confident than you were expecting, or felt for that matter. You could tell it had bothered him, good . That's not all it did, it caused him to hum. And as he parted his lips, his tongue darted out and licked your thumb. You shakingly exhaled the smoke, not knowing how much more you could take. 

Jax did not need your instructions, closing the gap between you and inhaling the smoke, not pulling away even after he let the smoke out, you were breathing the same air. Jax somehow got closer, one of his hands steady on your hips as the other moved up, finally setting on the back of your head. His fingers traced patterns on your nape, sending shivers down your spine. Your mind was no longer yours as you slowly licked his lower lip. His lips parted a second later, but he didnt give in. Lucky for him, you didnt give a fuck anymore. Using the hand on his cheek, you pulled him closer and kissed him, your tongue in his mouth, battling for dominance. Fuck. It was somehow better than you remembered. And you couldn't get enough, his lips tasted like smoke and addiction. 

Life never made it easy for you as the clubhouse door flew open, breaking the moment, shedding light and noise on you. On your compromising position. 

[testrella]

CRAZY RICH ASIANS..! G. SATORU X READER

𝜗𝜚 | CHAPTER THREE : just..friends!

NEXT… CHAPTER FOUR : tutoring.

gojo was reclined on his couch, legs sprawled out everywhere. the comfort of his own home at 17 was a luxury not anybody could afford. yet, it was gifted to him by his grandma on his 16th birthday. a 32 acre estate mansion designed by switzerland’s best architect. a blend of traditional japanese and a mix of modern luxury. despite the mansion being large enough to home a village, it was only filled with servants, gojo and silence.

which is why his father thought it was a great idea to have him take on a responsibility, a quite immense responsibility. 

“who the hell are you?”

gojo glances up from his phone and looks for what voice peeped from the entrance of the lounge room. the large dark oak doors were fully opened yet from his peripheral vision, there was no one there. that was until he looked down at a young boy.

his jet black hair, fair skin and green eyes stood out from any other kid has ever laid his eyes on. a shiver runs down gojo’s spine and goosebumps slowly form on his forearms as he continues to stare at the young boy.

“satoru,” his father’s voice echoed from the hallway, slowly becoming more apparent as he got closer. “this is megumi fushiguro, he will be staying with you from now on.”

the young white haired male’s jaw drops to the very floor as he repeated the last name out loud, “..fushiguro?” he glances at the boy then back at his father before raising an eyebrow, “and why is that?” there was no curiosity in his tone, just genuine concern. 

his father opens his mouth to respond before shutting it as megumi turns around to face him, seeming to have the exact same question. why is he staying with 17 year old gojo satoru?

“his father has..business to take care of. it required him to leave for a certain period of time so i’ve agreed to take him in.”

the explanation was typical; vague and left no room for any further questions. gojo knew better than to further poke the sleeping bear and just nod in agreement. but even though he answered gojo’s question, his eyes told a different answer. there was no doubt the boy’s father got into some trouble and was taken out for good.

gojo shrugged the lingering thoughts away before making his way to megumi. he knelt down to megumi’s height, to come off as less intimidating, and patted his head. “megumi, right? i’m satoru, looks like we’re gonna be roommates for a while.”

“i am not sharing a room with you.” megumi spat out while clutching onto a small dog plushie. even if he tried to come off as fearless, gojo couldn’t help but notice the way he was violently shaking. 

he chuckles at megumi before pulling him into a tight and unwarranted hug. “sure man, whatever you say goes.”

the busy streets of tokyo were alive every night, capturing the life of the city and its residents. honking horns, distant chatter, and the same rhythmic footsteps of busy people wanting to get from point A to point B. gojo suggested the two shopping the day after the party, which clearly irritated megumi.

“do we really have to go shopping during rush hour?” megumi grumbled and shoving his hands into his pockets. “i have better things to do.” 

satoru only chuckled at the angsty teen’s behavior. he watched megumi grow from a know it all toddler to a slumped moody teenager. “oh come on megumi! i’ve been meaning to buy you something nice. besides, it’s not like you actually have friends to hang out with.”  

megumi shoots him a glare, “i do have friends, and i could have plans that only involved myself.”

“like what? brooding in your room all day?” gojo teased, ruffling megumi’s hair before he slapped his hand away.

as they entered a high end luxury store, gojo’s attention was immediately caught by a limited edition pair of sneakers. he nudged megumi towards the display before picking it up and carefully inspecting it. “what do you think megumi? these would look great on you!” 

megumi barely glances at the shoe before mumbling a response, “they’re fine i guess. can we get them and go home now?” irritation was written all over the poor boy’s face. 

gojo was able to immediately pick up the teen’s attitude towards him. he rolled his eyes at the moody behavior, “you’re in a mood today. something bothering you?” 

“i don’t know… maybe it's the fact you're texting my teacher and asking her out for dinner again!” he whispered-yelled in the middle of the store.

gojo clicks his tongue. “ah, so that’s what this is about huh?” he said with a stupid smile plastered on his face, “well i happen to think miss. l/n is a lovely person to be around. she’s humble, intelligent and she seems to talk to me like a normal person. she’d be a wonderful friend!”

megumi scoffs and crosses his arms across his chest, “you’re not fooling anyone, you know there’s more to it!”

gojo leaned slightly towards megumi with a slight mischievous look in his eyes, “it’s refreshing to talk to someone who isn’t obsessed with the whole gojo clan nonsense. she’s not stiff and never talks about business.” he leans further into megumi’s personal space, “but you seem to be real caught up on this. are you jealous..?!”

megumi’s face flushed in a mix of embarrassment and annoyance. “i am not jealous! i just don’t think it’s appropriate for you to make plans with my teacher. it’s  weird..” he mumbled the last sentence. 

gojo raises his hand to scratch his chin and pretends he’s in deep thought. “hm, well if it makes you that uncomfortable then i suppose i have no choice but to cut contact.”

“r-really?! you’ve decided that quick?” 

“of course,” gojo said, ruffling his hair once again. “you’re more important to me than making a new friend.”

a small pang of guilt hit megumi’s chest, and his expression softened. “i mean, you don’t have to stop being her friend. just..stop trying to invite her to private dinners.”

“deal!” gojo says with a wide grin, “now, let’s go find some shoes you’ll actually like.” despite megumi’s outburst, he knew he cared for him in his own way. no matter how many times gojo has been a victim of megumi’s prickly demeanor, he would still let him have his way.

the duo exits out the store, with gojo swinging multiple bags over his back, into the bustling streets. the both continued to have a quiet conversation about tonight’s dinner options. just as they turned the corner, a small figure collided with him, again. 

“ah, miss. l/n!” gojo exclaimed, caught completely off guard. standing before them was today’s topic of discussion dressed casually with a few bags in her hand. 

“megumi, mr.gojo! what a lovely surprise to see you two here.” you smiled.

gojo cleared his throat, trying to regain any composure he had left “y-yes, quite a surprise indeed! we were, uh, out shopping for new shoes for megumi.” he tried to reach over to pat megumi’s shoulder, with his eyes on remaining on you, and ends up patting his face.

you glance at the multiple bags being held by gojo, “seems like you guys found something nice.”

“yeah thanks to this idiot.” megumi muttered before swaying gojo’s hand out his face, “he insisted i get new shoes.” 

“well, it was nice seeing you both.” you replied. “i’m actually on my way to a movie. i’ve been meaning to watch the new action movie that recently came out.” 

gojo’s eyes light up at the mention of the film, “oh really?! we were just about to grab something to eat but a movie sounds even better! right megumi?” he glances back at the teenager who seemed to be absolutely mortified by the sudden turn of events. 

“uh, sure but we really shouldn’t intrude-”

“don't be ridiculous!” gojo chuckled before turning to you, “we’d love to join you if that’s okay with you miss. l/n. tickets and snacks on me!” 

you laughed softly at the man’s eagerness, “i don’t mind at all, some company would be nice.” 

megumi gave gojo a “what are you doing?!” look but he was too infatuated with you to even notice. 

as they made their way to the theaters, gojo makes an attempt to make conversation to fill in the comfortable silence. but his nerves seem to hate him.

“s-so, miss. l/n.” gojo’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat before attempting again. “i hear that the, uh, curriculum changed throughout the year. i-is it difficult for you? but i mean i wouldn't be surprised if not since someone like you is capable of handling it well..”

you smiled kindly despite being confused at his sudden awkwardness, “it’s just an adjustment. i’m fine as long as the students are.” 

megumi sighed before yanking gojo aside and whispering, “ please stop, you’re embarrassing yourself. can we just-”

“relax megumi, i’m just trying to make conversation.” gojo said while nervously chuckling.

when they reached the ticket counter, gojo confidently stepped in front of both of them. “three adult tickets please, i’ll be paying.”

the young cashier smiled, “sure thing. i’ll be sure to add on tonight's family discount.” she prints out the tickets and hands them over to gojo. “enjoy the movie and your family night out!”

both megumi and gojo froze, processing her words while you chuckled at the misunderstanding.

“we’re not-” megumi started but was quickly cut off. 

“thank you and we will!” gojo said before snatching megumi by his collar. 

as they entered the theater, megumi gave gojo a stern look before muttering “did you seriously go along with that?!” 

gojo only laughed at megumi’s response to the situation. “why not? it’s kind of nice to be seen as a family, don’t you think?” he turned to you, waiting for your approval. 

your eyes softened towards megumi, “the two of you certainly give off the dynamic of a family. it’s cute to see.”

the theater’s lights start to dim and the chatter that was once there starts being hushed. gojo, being sat in between megumi and you, couldn’t help but keep up his playful demeanor. whenever a dramatized scene came on, he would whisper in your ear witty but funny remarks on it. all megumi heard were giggles coming from his teacher, and being caused by his mentor. 

it was annoying enough to see gojo play his classic playboy persona in front of his teacher. that was what he thought until he further inspected him. despite the horrible lighting, he noticed the subtle signs of nervousness.like the way gojo would lightly tap his fingers on the shared armrest, how he would stumble over his words, or the way he constantly looked over at you as if he seeked approval.

no matter how much of a distraction the both of you were, he couldn’t help but find amusement in watching the two of you. it was a rare sight to see gojo, the overly confident playboy, be genuinely flustered. for once, he decided to let gojo’s antics slide. 

once the credits rolled, megumi leaned into gojo’s ear. “you owe me for this.”

and before gojo could question what he meant by that, he sees him turn his attention onto you. “miss. l/n, i’m actually having trouble adjusting to the curriculum you mentioned earlier. would it be okay if you could tutor me at gojo’s house? he’ll pay you!”

and being the dedicated teacher you are, you respond with genuine concern in your tone. “of course! why didn’t you say anything sooner?!” 

tag list: @poeticlovefanpage @mistyheart @sureconfused @chilichopsticks @lightshowerrr @faeryminnyx @0001010dog @myabae @therealestpussyeater @kolpvii @sleepykittycx @tojisworm-5 @universallystrangeravenue @catobsessedlady @nico707 @invisible-mori @peqch-pie @dilflover-3 @foliea @honoredalone @goldenglow149 @portgas459ace @sealsu @misorastars @silkija @r0ckst4rjk @ritsatoru @starlostwish @yihona-san06 @mx-mekla @iaminyourfloors @gabi-moureira @thesharkcollector @misorastars @hyori2 @selysixn @miffysoo @lordbugs @mimidonottouch @moonlightazriel @bubybubsters @manyno @rixyaaaa

if you’d like to be added, please do the inbox thing! it’ll make it easier on my part. this is the updated tag list (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[greg-montgomery]

any other world - part 1

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au

series masterlist

prologue

once again a huge thanks to this angel @criminalskies 🥹🫂🩷

(38)

“Haley, I said no.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so opposed to that name.” She smiled; Aaron assumed it wasn’t a genuine reaction, but more of an attempt to lighten up the mood.

This happened a lot. She’d say something that made him think of you, he’d have a reaction, and she’d pretend she didn’t notice. It broke his heart, but there was nothing he could do about it.

“If you have a different name in mind I’m open to suggestions,” she added, taking his hands in hers.

He leaned in to kiss her. “Just any other name besides Jack. Please.”

“Okay.”

--

(20)

“Aaron…” you whined, kicking one of the pillows that decorated your bed on the floor. “Be done with it already.”

“My exam is at 8 am. I won’t have any time to revise in the morning. Just give me thirty more minutes.”

“I can’t sleep without you.”

“I know. But if I come to your bed to study, I will not be studying,” he argued, since there was no need of you to say anything for him to get what you were insinuating.

“I’ll just lay my head on your chest. I promise I won’t even talk to you.”

“Fine,” he said, always unable to say no to you; even though your weight on him and your sweet scent would definitely make the letters on his papers start dancing.

But you kept your promise. You carefully laid on him, letting him wrap one of his arms around you. The only thing you did before closing your eyes was kissing the inside of his wrist, just like you did every night.

“Good night.”

“Good night, tulip,” he whispered and turned his attention back to his notes. He’d ace the test and then he’d get to hear the words ‘I’m so proud of you, baby!’ from your sweet lips. Then all the sleepless nights of studying would be worth it.

--

(21)

That couldn’t be right. There was no way that was right.

H.B.

Aaron would never forget the heartbroken look on your face when you saw those letters. The way your excited smile faded into an expression that went straight through his heart and made it bleed.

He was desperate to comfort you, but how could he find the right words to say when his whole world was crumbling in front of his eyes too? Every single dream, every single plan for the future, every single promise had vanished into thin air.

“These are not my initials,” you said quietly. You were still holding his hand in yours, staring at the new mark on his skin.

“Baby…” he whispered, cupping your cheek.

“No, Aaron,” you said, your eyes slowly filling with tears, “These are not my initials.”

Aaron pulled you into his arms as you broke down crying. You were holding onto him with a strength he didn’t know you had. He rubbed your back, trying to clear up his own thoughts.

How could the girl in his arms not be his soulmate? His best friend, his lover, his partner in everything? You were his family.

“I don’t care,” he whispered in your ear. “I don’t care what the mark says. You’re my soulmate.”

“I’m not,” you sobbed, pulling back so you could sit face to face again.

“You are. You’re the love of my life.”

“Apparently I’m not though,” you raised your voice. He knew you weren’t angry at him, you were angry at life. “God, Aaron, what the fuck? How could we have been so wrong?”

“We haven’t been wrong. I’m not gonna let an unknown fucking force decide who I’m spending my life with. You’re the one I want and I’m staying with you.”

“That’s not how it goes.”

“That’s exactly how it goes.”

You closed your eyes and breathed deeply, the way you always did to calm yourself down.

“Maybe we’re just meant to be friends.”

Aaron grabbed your jaw with his hand and pulled your face close to his, “Tell me when I was inside you earlier making you cry about how good you felt, did it feel like we were meant to be just friends?”

You wrapped your hand around his wrist and removed his hand from your face. “It doesn’t matter how I feel.”

“That’s actually all that matters to me.”

A deep sigh escaped your lips. “What are we going to do, Aaron?”

“I don’t know. We’ll figure it out, as long as we’re together.”

“This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go.”

“I know, my tulip.”

“It’s unfair,” you added, like a kid whose toy was stolen by their sibling.

“I know. But I love you, okay?”

“Okay.”

Aaron was grateful you let him hold you when he pulled you into a warm embrace. But it was impossible to keep the thoughts from running into dark places. Like the clear skin on your own wrist which would be soon stained with initials that weren’t going to be his either.

--

(21)

It felt like the mark on Haley’s wrist was mocking you.

A.H.

The two letters you had been craving all your life to have them written on your skin, were decorating her wrist instead.

Haley was beautiful, smart, popular. The perfect girl next door.

You and Aaron had met her in high school. She was staring in a school play he was forced to participate in because of a bet he’d lost. You got along with her pretty well, and so did Aaron.

Back then you weren’t worried over the way they both used to geek over Star Wars – which you simply couldn’t get into, no matter how hard Aaron had tried to make you love – during rehearsals. You weren’t worried when he’d invited her to his birthday party that year and you had noticed her eyes sparkle when he had played his favorite Beatles’ song.

Back then none of that mattered. Because back then, Aaron was your soulmate.

Yet you still couldn't hate Haley, because she was in pain too.

Her birthday only a month after Aaron’s had confirmed your suspicions that his soulmate was her. And you could relate to her heartbreak, when Aaron had to break the news to her. When he informed her that no matter what their wrists said, he was choosing you instead.

Neither of you truly had him, and in that way you understood her.

--

(21)

“Here.” You placed the hot cup of coffee you’d made for Aaron, next to his book.

“Thank you, honey,” he said, reaching out his hand to touch your waist under your shirt. With that motion he pulled you close to him, so you were standing right in front of his chair.

He wrapped his arms around you and your own hands got lost between his hair. Aaron left a tiny kiss on your stomach and looked up at you. “I’m anxious.”

“You’re going to do great. You’ve been studying non-stop for days now.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing enough,” he admitted.

“You’re always so hard on yourself.” Your thumb rubbed the short hair on his temples as you kissed the tip of his nose. The nose kiss was followed by a soft one on his lips, before you pulled away again. “You’re doing more than enough. And I’m so proud of you.”

His dimples made an appearance and your heart smiled at your success. “There’s my boy.”

“Shut up,” he laughed, rolling his eyes. You could just pinch his cheeks every time you made him shy.

“Do you want me to help? We can go through some questions together. I’ll ask, you’ll answer.”

“Yeah,” he said, looking through his notes. “Haley gave me-”

At the realization of saying her name, he paused.

“It’s okay, you can mention her around me, I’m not gonna break,” you said, hoping you successfully hid the fact that you were annoyed.

He cleared his throat and continued. “Her cousin took the same exams last year, so she gave me his notes. He has written down all the questions that were on the test.”

“Good then. Let’s get to work.”

--

(45)

“Good night, buddy,” he whispered, leaving a sweet kiss on his son’s forehead. Jack usually replied with a ‘Good night, daddy,’ but he was already fast asleep.

As Aaron made his way to the living room in order to clear up the floor from his son’s toys, he heard a knock on his door.

He walked towards it as silently as he could, and looked through the peep hole; the fear of a possible intruder still poisoning his blood.

But the face he saw on the other side of the door took his breath away.

A face he hadn’t seen in years. A face he saw every night in his sleep.

He didn’t let a second more to pass before opening his door.

“Y/N?” he said in a breath.

Your eyes were red, and full of tears. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

tag list: @magical-spit @lilsunshine1092 @hiraethrhapsody @cult-of-enji-todoroki @emo-markie

[nickfowlerrr]

such a tease

pairing: stucky x curvy!reader

warnings: 18+ only. idk lol.

words: 1.4k

notes: trying to practice writing shorter fics so here’s a lil oneshot. enjoy!

thank you in advance for reading. feedback and comments are always welcome and so appreciated! 🩵

“Steve, this isn’t a joke. Where did you put it?”

You’re kneeling on the floor, peering under his bed as you continue your search. You hear his smug chuckle and your eyes narrow. You sit up and turn to look at him over your shoulder as he stands in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest... his biceps bulging against the sleeves of his shirt…

No. No distractions right now. You force your eyes up to his face as he smirks down at you.

“I told you, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit, Rogers,” you call him out as you stand up and stride over to him, jabbing him with a finger and doing your best to look intimidating but knowing full well you were failing as his smirk grew and his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Look, you give it back now and I won’t breathe a word of this to Bucky. Scout's honor,” you say as you cross your fingers behind your back and hold up three on your other hand.

Steve laughs, genuinely laughs, and it confuses you for a second before he pushes off the doorframe, uncrossing his arms and turns you around.

Your face falls stoic as you’re met with your reflection in the mirror behind you. Steve’s hands are still on your arms as he presses closer against you, his lips right against your ear as he speaks through his never faltering smile, “You really need to work on being more perceptive, doll.”

“I’m plenty perceptive, pretty boy,” you reply haughtily as you push your hips back, your ass pressing against him. You watch as his jaw tightens and his hands squeeze you just a bit tighter, his eyes shutting as he wets his lip. You can’t help but smirk in turn at his reaction. “You have something of mine. And I want it back. So, either you give it to me or I’ll have Bucky get it back from you instead.”

“You keep saying that,” he laughs, “but I think I’m gonna call your bluff. I don’t think Bucky even knows about it. And I have a feeling you don’t want him to know, either,” he whispers against your ear as his broad hands fall to your waist.

You try to stifle your gasp as he pulls you back more firmly, holding you to him. You deflate just a bit as you realize he’s seen right through your lifeless “threats”.

"Steve," you whine, letting your head rest back on his chest as you pout up at him, placing your hands over his as he continues holding you. He meets your gaze and smiles down at you, bending to place a soft kiss on your lips. "Pleeease," you murmur against his lips, hoping he'll give in this time.

You really never know with Steve, some days all it takes is a bat of your lashes to get him to fold and other days he truly has the resolve of... well, him.

The nipping of his teeth on your lip as he pulls away lets you know the last thing on his mind is giving in.

"It's a surprise, Steve. Don't ruin it," you complain, turning to face him.

He tuts, apparently insulted at the insinuation. "Ye of such little faith," he admonishes. "If anything, I'm doing you a favor, sweetheart. Your hiding place isn't as secret as you'd like to think. It's in a much safer spot, now. Scout's honor," he smirks, coping your earlier actions. You roll your eyes at him before trying a new tactic.. You need the album before Bucky gets back, the rest of his belated birthday gift all wrapped and just waiting for the final addition.

"I get it," you nod in faux compassion, eyes gazing into his bright blue greens. "You're jealous," your voice is laced with pity as you bring a hand to his solid chest.

He grabs your hand roughly and tugs you, keeping you close against him.

"Maybe I am," he admits. "Why does Buck get all those pretty pictures and not me?"

"Because," you begin, walking into him as he allows you to lead him back, "they were his birthday present; special, just for him. With all the work we've been doing these past few months, things just got pushed back, took a while to get everything together," you shrug.

"And, there's no reason to be jealous, baby. You'll be getting your very own next month. Different pictures, of course. Special," you say as you lean up on your tip toes, your lips brushing against his, "just for you."

You can't help the giggle that escapes you as Steve grabs you and picks you up with no effort at all. You're on your back on his bed in the blink of an eye with Steve on top of you as he attacks you with kisses.

"Such a god damn tease, you know that?" he breaths heavily against your skin as he tugs down your bottoms, taking your panties with them.

"So I've been told," you smile as you lay back and shamelessly watch him undress before you. You pull your top off and don't wait for Steve to lower himself back down to you, instead sitting up on your haunches. Steve follows your lead and sits on the bed when he finishes undressing. You waste no time as you crawl onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Steve pulls you closer and crashes his lips to yours.

You can feel his cock hard against you and you smile into the kiss.

It's hot and heavy and you're nearly panting as you just enjoy the feeling of one another's bodies being so close, his lips so soft and pillowy against yours, you could just stay like this all night.

The loud clearing of someone's throat has you pulling away from Steve and turning to the open doorway.

"Hey, babe," you say breathlessly as Steve continues trailing his lips down your neck.

"What happened to waiting it out til I got home?" Bucky asks, playfully unimpressed as he strides into the room, already pulling off his jacket as he gets closer.

"He started it," you defend as Bucky stands before you, grabbing your chin before leaning down for a kiss of his own, then taking hold of Steve's and pulling him off you to take his lips in his own.

"Did he, now?" Buck asks as he keeps hold of Steve who smirks in response.

"You said you'd be an hour, you've been gone since twelve. You're welcome for waiting as long as we did."

"Yeah," Bucky scoffs before letting him go and pulling off his shirt. You watch him, always so awestruck by him - by both of them, honestly - as Steve nuzzles into your neck. His lips are pressed to your ear, and he whispers just loud enough for you to hear.

"It's in your closet."

"I looked there," you say confused.

"I was moving it around after you," he smirks boyishly, biting back a laugh.

"You're such an asshole," you smile, pushing him playfully as you climb off his lap and off the bed.

You slap Bucky's ass as you pass by him while he throws his discarded briefs into Steve's laundry basket, turning to you with blue eyes dark already, looking up and down your naked form, hunger clear on his face. You bite your lip as you eye him in return. "Be right back," you simper before turning and scurrying off to finish his gift basket.

Your heart feels like it could burst as you hear his and Steve's laughter mingle from the other room. You finally get your hands on the album you'd spent the last hour searching for and arrange it just right in the center of Bucky's gift basket. When it looks just right, you sneak it to Bucky's room and place it carefully on his still neatly made bed. You’ll make sure he sees it later.

You saunter back to Steve's and admire your men from the doorway. Their grunts and moans are intoxicating, and you feel yourself growing more and more hot and bothered the longer you watch. You whimper when Steve lets out a throaty groan as Bucky attacks his neck, his hand never stopping as he keeps pumping Steve’s hard length. You're practically salivating when Bucky's teasing voice breaks you from your trance.

"You just gonna stand there all pretty and dripping and watch or you gonna actually join us, sweetheart?"

[pinkslipxox]

May I please request a kind of enemies to lovers fic with Miko? She & reader met in high school through Mari, and reader just never liked her cockiness and thought Miko was a fuck girl, but really the only reason Miko ever entertained other girls was because we kept turning her down. Now years later, she's recording Trap Kitty and we go to the studio with Mari and Miko is just so sincere and sweet so we finally give her a chance 🥹

Of course, angel! Ugh I loved writing this one 😭🙈

——————————————————————————

“C‘mon, Y/N! I promise she’s changed since high school,” Mari tries to reason with you.

“Vicky? Change?” you scoff in disbelief.

“It’s been five years, of course she has! Besides, you’re the only person she asked for,” Mari says and for a moment you put down your defenses.

Your jaw drops. “I-I am?”

You are genuinely shocked.

María Victoria Ramírez de Arellano Cardona— known to everyone at the time as Vicky— was a name that you knew all too well. You met her through Mari, your best friend since childhood, in high school. Everyone in school knew who she was. Her bold personality and cocky attitude made her stand out of the crowd. It was what made her loved or annoyed by your peers and teachers.

In your case, she annoyed you.

Vicky absolutely loved to pick on you. Her flirtatious smile, the mischievous gleam in her eyes, the way she sweet talked everyone made her into the typical fuck girl that you swore to never fall victim to. Yet, little by little, you started to notice that she started to pick on you less and less. Instead she started to pick on other girls, which confused you, but at the sametime made you feel relieved.

The last time you’ve seen or heard from Vicky was at graduation day. You picked up songwriting, a hobby of your that soon became into your career. While you were still not as well known, up and coming artists have reached out to you for your expertise, which made you grow a small fan base. And if it weren’t for Mari, you would never have known or even guessed that one of those up and coming artists was Vicky herself.

Under the name Young Miko.

“She wants to meet with you— today,” Mari reveals and your jaw drops even lower.

“W-what? What time?” you stammer.

“Her studio session starts at six.” Mari checks her watch. “Ya son las 4:45 p.m., Y/N. Si vas a ir, tienes que decidir ahora.”

You bite your lip. The thought of seeing Vicky after all these years both flatters you and makes you nervous. You’re surprised that she’s even remembered you in the first place. It just has to be coincidence that the two of you are even interested in the same industry together.

“I’ll go,” you tell Mari, who sighs in relief.

“Perfecto. Puedes ir conmigo en mi carro,” she says and you nod.

You quickly gather your things together and head out of the door. As the two of you drive to San Juan, Mari fills you in on Vicky’s career thus far and the album she’s planning to release later this year. And that’s where you come in. Mari tells you that she’s been having trouble finishing the lyrics to a song she’s working on, and it’s for that reason why she’s reached out to you in the first place. You’re genuinely impressed by how well Vicky was doing so far. And you admit that you’re excited to listen what she’s been working on. You absolutely love music, and the fact that Vicky did too does not come much as a surprise to you.

By the time Mari parks her car, the nerves slowly creep their way back into you. You’re just minutes away from seeing Vicky again. And you pray that she really has changed as you and Mari are whisked away to the seventh floor of the building, where Vicky’s studio is.

“Puedes pasar!” you hear her voice from the other side of the door, and Mari pushes the door open.

“Adivina quién llegó!” Mari announces as you step inside the studio.

You make eye contact with a brown haired girl. A gasp escapes your lips when you realize that it is Vicky. Physically, she hasn’t changed save for the tattoos that decorate both her arms. She is clad in an oversized hoodie with baggy jeans and a beanie on her head. That part of Vicky hasn’t changed either. She was rarely seen without a beanie or hat on her head.

“Y/N!” she exclaims with excitement, making your nerves calm down a bit, and she hurries over to you with a big smile on her face.

“Hi, Vicky,” you greet politely.

Should you shake her hand or hug her?

“Can I hug you? Is that okay?” Vicky asks sweetly as if to read your mind, and you inwardly breath a sigh of relief as you nod.

“Of course,” you say, and for a moment, you are frozen when Vicky wraps her arms around you, but nevertheless you return her sweet gesture.

“How have you been? It’s been, what, three years?” she muses and you chuckle softly.

“Five years, actually,” you correct her and she gasps.

“Acho! Time flies, doesn’t it?” Vicky giggles. She then gestures towards the she seat she was sitting on. “Siéntate, por favor. I hope you’re as ready as I am.”

“Let’s get started,” you chirp.

Turns out that Vicky is very talented. She even plays you some of her finished songs for you. And asks for your feedback once they end.

“I really like the beat. And the lyrics are catchy. What was the name of the song again?” you ask her, and you can’t help but notice that she’s gotten a little shy from your compliments.

“It’s called Riri,” Vicky says softly.

“That song would go hard in a club,” you tell her, earning a sheepish giggle from Vicky, and you can’t but admit just how adorable she looks right now.

“Gracias, mami,” she murmurs, catching you a bit off guard with the nickname she gave you.

“So…” you hum, trying to sound nonchalant, as you straighten up. “What about that song you need help writing?”

“Actually,” Miko says sheepishly after a beat of

silence, biting her lower lip, “I never needed help with the song. I… I actually just wanted an excuse to see you.”

“What?” you say softly, your heart beginning to flutter. You’re not sure if it’s by the way Vicky’s looking at you or if it’s by the confession she just made to you.

“I just really wanted to see you. And… also to apologize for bothering you throughout high school.” Vicky then takes a deep breath, her eyes looking into yours with a tenderness you’ve never seen before… and hesitation. “I had a such a big crush on you— I still do, actually. I did what I did to get your attention but…” She then gently takes your hands in hers. “If you’d be willing to give me a chance, we can start over. And I’ll prove to you just how much I’ve changed.”

Her words echo in your ears. Vicky has never been as sweet and sincere to you like this. Ever. She was always so teasing and forward. At first you think this is all a dream, but the feeling of her warm hands holding yours is proof enough to assure you that what is happening in front of you is real.

“I’d love to,” you murmur, unable to contain the smile spreading on your lips.

Vicky visibly relaxes and she breaths a sigh of relief.

“If you’re not doing anything after, let’s go out for dinner. And we can catch up,” she proposes and you nod excitedly.

“That sounds amazing,” you smile, and Miko gives your hands a gentle squeeze.

“Perfecto.” She then bites her lip again. “Can I kiss your cheek, Y/N?”

Your heart flutters again. “Of course you can.”

And so does. She holds your chin ever so gently and kisses your cheek. Your smile only grows, and you know deep inside you that is but the beginning of a beautiful new relationship with Vicky.

Your Vicky.

[nadvs]

Hiii love, how are you?? I usually don't send asks to writers on Tumblr, so you're the first writer I'm sending to, yayyy 🤗 I loved loved loved the ending of the Watch and Learn, I loved the entire series. Rafe's growth throughout this series was amazing, you write him so well. Because of all your series, I continue to be a Rafe girly, I thought Cam Girl was your best series but Watch and Learn took the cake and I can't wait for you to finish Both Sinners 😊

You really are an incredible writer and I'm so happy I found your blog, you're always on my most recent blogs bc I check your page sm 😅 I really almost cried when reading the last chapter because I thought back to how Rafe and reader were in the beginning and how they are now in the end 😪 They're literally couple goals, I'm obsessed. Oh gosh, I've already made this so long but while I was reading the last chapter, I couldn't help but think back to the girl Rafe hooked up with and how he had the audacity to msg reader after. If it's not an issue, can you feed my fantasies and write a small blurb on reader getting revenge on Rafe and making him sooo jealous for doing that, I'm petty like that🤣 If you can't, it's no worries but thank you for continuing to be an incredible writer and such a sweetheart and for reading the excessively long msg 🥲 Much love hun🩷 Byeee👋

HI HONEY i’m good tysm, how are you!! you are so so so sweet 😭 i feel honored to be the first writer you’re sending an ask to 🥹 thank you for reading my work and sending such a kind message!! hehe my fav part of writing the last chapter of watch and learn was def sprinkling references to all the things they’ve been through since they met and the memories they made 🤭 i am so glad that you loved it 💘

i LOVE this prompt and absolutely can feed into the pettiness hehe 😌

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It was bad enough hearing Rafe make a girl moan through your shared wall. It was ten times worse when Rafe texted you “his bad” for the noise.

Followed by an lol. What a douche.

If he’s trying to make you jealous, two can play at that game.

You go to an on-campus bar with friends the following Friday night when you bump into a guy you recognize from one of your lectures. Once you realize he’s hitting on you, his eyes trailing down your cleavage, you feel the exciting twist of arousal deep in your stomach.

You invite him to your dorm. He seems shocked you’re giving him a chance. It makes him even cuter.

Rafe just got home from a night at the frat house when he hears you laughing in the hallway. He figures you’re with a friend or on the phone. Until he hears a male voice under your giggles.

He hears the door shut. Then music. Then… damn it. You’re moaning.

He’d be turned on by the sounds you’re making if it wasn’t for the fact that another man was coaxing them out of you.

You’re on the other side of the wall, body buzzing while he uses his mouth on you. He needs some coaching, but he’s definitely skilled.

You’re exaggerating your moans a little bit, unsure if Rafe can hear. When you hear thudding on the wall, you know he can.

Rafe’s fist is burning as he knocks on the wall, trying to get you to quiet down. He wants to say he’s just annoyed that you’re being loud this late at night, especially after you’re so self-righteous about quiet hours, but he knows jealousy when he feels it.

And this is jealousy.

When you get on top, your moans aren’t as exaggerated anymore. You feel genuine bliss as you ride him, controlling the pace, feeling his hands on your hips.

He’s not a talker at all, so you can’t help but think of the things Rafe says during sex.

Suddenly, the knocking is on your door instead of your wall. You meet your classmate’s eyes and laugh with him, taking a pillow and covering your body with it as you answer the door.

Rafe is standing in the hallway, jaw tight.

“Check your phone,” he says. “I’ve been texting you.”

“I’m… kinda busy,” you laugh.

“Yeah, I can hear,” Rafe mutters. “I think everyone on our floor can.”

“Don’t be jealous,” you tease, hoping he gives it away that he is. When he looks away with a scowl, you’re pretty sure he is.

Rafe can’t take it anymore. He tilts his chin forward, straightening up as much as he can.

“She moans louder when she’s with me!” he half-shouts into your room.

“Rafe,” you scold, nudging his arm. He smirks at you and you shut the door, shaking your head.

After your classmate leaves, you check your phone to see the texts Rafe was talking about.

Rafe: happy for u that ur getting some but chill

Rafe: he cant be THAT good

Rafe: you know i can fuck you better

Rafe: CHILL ur so loud

You laugh at the texts. He definitely can fuck you better. But he doesn’t need to know that.