#i deserve to enjoy weird things and so do you

[icallhimjoey]

Not sure if you've done this but it fits the general mood of the fandom lately: I want grovel-y Joe. Knows he really fucked up but he's a guy so he doesn't know how to fix it so he just throws anything at the wall to see what sticks. And honestly we're not sure if we'll forgive him but we're definitely sticking around to see how far he's willing to go.

(yes I am in therapy 🤣)

okay im using this request to fix whatever that bullshit was that i wrote before this - hope you enjoy! Wordcount: 3.8K

---

I'll Let The Sun Decide

Joe realises it in the morning. Feels like the biggest fucking idiot in the world.

Correction: the biggest fucking idiot on the moon.

He watches you walk out of his bedroom after leaving a perfect cup of coffee, exactly how he likes it, on his bedside table and everything about that makes his heart ache.

After the way he behaved last night, he knows he doesn't deserve a sweet gesture from the girl who looks like she only managed to sleep for about two hours.

You look exhausted.

He only catches a glimpse of you, and a few seconds later he can hear the coffee machine go again. You're making a coffee for yourself after making him one, and Joe can't help but groan his face into his pillow.

Fuck.

He didn't reach out for you in the night.

Your one fucking rule.

He vaguely remembers going, "Hmm?" after he raised his head off his pillow in a jolt.

"Just me." You'd whispered, nothing malicious hidden in your voice, because it was after midnight and it wasn't the time to continue whatever you'd started earlier that evening.

He should've reached over then.

He hadn't. Not even a knee to your thigh, or a toe to your foot.

Nothing.

He should've been happy you'd come back to his flat instead of going to your own. You could've so easily decided to avoid him for a bit, but you didn't. You said you'd come back, and then you did, and, fuck.

He hadn't reached out.

He hadn't even read the texts you'd sent. Left you with a bunch of grey ticks.

Well.

He had read them, but only in the notification bar.

He'd seen the messages about you making it to the office safely. Of how Charlotte was there too - you'd do the work together and you'd be done much faster that way. A little later of how you'd just be another hour, and of how you'd let him know when you'd leave.

He wanted you to feel bad about choosing your work over him, so he withheld the coloured ticks and had felt real fucking smug over it. It was sickening how right he'd felt about his actions in the moment. Every petty little thing justified, just because you'd hurt his feelings.

You'd climbed into bed after he had already fallen asleep, and the feeling of movement next to him pulled him from his slumber. And then, instead of reaching over like he should have done, he had sighed all heavily, like he was really fucking annoyed that you'd woken him up as you got comfortable under his covers. He'd rolled over and ignored you. Turned his back and festered in his own anger like a moody teenager because he truly believed you deserved it.

What a fucking loser.

Didn't touch you all night.

The realisation slaps him in the face unexpectedly, and your early-morning kind gesture is what flips the entire script. What a fucking loser of a boyfriend.

You've made the deadline.

Joe sees it when he opens his messages after taking a perfect sip of hot coffee, and it's weird how he feels awful about himself and proud of you at the same time.

He didn't need to let the world burn over such a tiny inconvenience.

Joe hates the moon.

Longs for the sun.

The moon is cold and dark and he's all alone up there, only warmed by the light the sun will bring him.

The sun. Or, the messy-haired girl with tired eyes in soft clothes too big for her body who brought him a hot cup of coffee before she even made one for herself. Either or. Same thing.

Joe stares at your messages in silence, gives you the coloured ticks he should've given you last night, and feels heavy guilt find home in the pit of his stomach.

You finished all the work in time. Probably have done a real good job at it too. Did it at the office, away from Joe's bad temper, and managed to actually focus and forget about how he told you to fuck off when you were already on your way out anyway.

What a dick-move.

Fragile ego syndrome, you'd guessed then.

That dick-move is what had you second-guessing going back over to Joe's for a while. Maybe going back to your own flat was the smarter idea. Avoid the confrontation and just text him the next day, after he'd cooled off a bit.

Maybe he'd actually read those then.

Another dick-move.

Joe could be so annoying sometimes, but it was easy to read him and you knew that just a little consideration of your time would fix whatever this silly issue was. With that in mind, you'd made your way back over to his.

You knew his dick-moves only meant he was going to feel bad about himself come tomorrow morning.

And you were right.

Besides an annoyed sigh and a soft grumble, you didn't get much else from him when you got into bed.

That was fine.

Again, you didn't think it was the right time to continue a fight anyway.

But the morning brought something new.

You woke up before Joe did and it took a few seconds for you to remember. To realise your prediction was right. Joe hasn't reached out in the night. No silent I still love you touch under the covers for you.

And it stings.

Could make you cry if you thought about it long enough.

Joe's stayed on his side of the bed, facing away from you, and you tell yourself that at least you've come back to his flat like you said you would. You finished the work you had to finish, and did the right thing by returning.

But then, you concluded, you also haven't reached out to him at all, and immediately felt bad.

Joe can be so annoying sometimes, but you do still love him, and a warm palm to a shoulder blade could've at least let him know.

It would've made you the bigger person.

Which, you still were. You came back, didn't you? But Joe was being an absolute child and you didn't want to sink down to his level.

You should've reached over. Should've touched him. You have no good excuse for not following the one rule you came up with after your first real argument, and now you feel bad.

Shit.

The coffee is to make up for it. At least a little. To say, I'm sorry I didn't reach out, here's me doing that now.

"Morning," you whispered when you saw him stir and open a squinty, confused eye.

You didn't wait for a reply. Just left the coffee there and walked back to go and make yourself one too.

Joe watched you leave and the moon came crashing down.

He knows what the coffee means.

He's read your messages, can hear you make breakfast in his kitchen and decides he needs to reach out too. With his coffee in hand, he gets up and makes his way over to his living area where he finds you rubbing your fist into an eye through a yawn, with a carton of eggs in the other hand.

"Morning," he croaks, and sees how it's only just starting to get light outside, it's so early still.

It feels a little weird and embarrassing to speak to you right now. To remember how you'd been in this same room just a few hours ago, and he'd told you to fuck off.

Fuck off, he'd said. To his girlfriend. Had meant it with his whole chest too. What a fucking idiot.

You turn your head to give him a small smile that doesn't reach your eyes, and ask, "Do you want some eggs?"

The moon can die.

He doesn't want the moon.

The moon is too far from the sun. He wants you closer and happy and well-rested and for your smile to overtake your whole lovely beautiful face when you see him and he hasn't got the faintest clue where to even start to fix it.

He doesn't know how to turn all the feelings in his chest into words to convey how sorry he feels. Has no idea what to say. Has no idea how you'll react to a verbal apology either.

But you look so soft, shoulders slouched, the scrunched up bit of fabric that held your hair up and out of your face as you slept about to slip out. And, even though he can tell it's not a real smile, you're still giving him a kind face. You're being civil.

You've made him a coffee how he likes it and just offered to make him some eggs and, Jesus, he's just the most awful person ever, isn't he?

The overwhelming need to wrap himself around all of you takes over.

Joe leaves his coffee on the side and steps closer to attach himself to your back. You accept it, and he can feel how you let your head rest against the side of his as he hugs you, arms tight around your waist.

He's glad that you let him.

But he also feels the defeat there.

The, Joe what the fuck, that's waiting to slip out of your mouth. Maybe it's why you're keeping things surface level. No time or energy to get into an actual conversation right now. Just breakfast eggs and perfect coffee.

That's okay.

Joe doesn't know what to say anyway, and he'd love some eggs, actually.

"I'd love some, but," Joe kisses the side of your face, does it quick so he doesn't have to feel you pull away from it, and then gently moves you aside. "Let me."

A first attempt at fixing it.

Joe finishes breakfast whilst you go for the quickest shower of your life. When you turn the water off he asks what time you need to leave from the kitchen. His eyes find your coffee that's going cold, and he thinks it's so stupid that you have to be back at work so soon.

This time he doesn't feel sorry for himself, though. This time he feels sorry for you.

It's a big difference.

You've only just left the office, Joe thinks. And sure, sometimes he makes long hours and feels like he lives on set, but you're in an office.

He knows that's different.

Worse.

You've got to go and present all the things you've finished and he knows you like it just as much as he does. That being: not at all. There's no use in getting angry at you.

He sees that now.

You're just as much at fault for not being able to go out with him last night as he is. That being: not at all.

Joe watches you take a few hurried mouthfuls of egg on toast, and he wants to tell you sorry before you leave.

He doesn't.

Isn't sure how, and feels like a literal child because, Jesus Christ, they're just words.

But you smile at him, even though it's only small. And you let him kiss your cheek on your way out. And when you've left, it's not even eight o'clock, which is too fucking early, and he decides he needs to give you more quiet I love yous that he didn't give you under the covers in the night the way he should've done.

You get flowers delivered to the office that afternoon.

It's a large bunch, beautiful colours, and you can't lie; it absolutely makes you smile. You can tell it's expensive, and you know he's paid extra for the same day delivery, but... he didn't reach for you last night, and you didn't reach for him either, and whenever you think of Joe, that's all that comes to mind.

You'd seen him turn to stone.

So cold and careless.

Had seen in his face how he didn't give a single shit about how inconsiderate he was being.

A bunch of flowers isn't going to magically make that visual go away, but it's nice that he' tried's trying, and you try to hold onto that.

When you leave the office that day, you text Joe that you're headed to your own flat because there's food in your fridge that needs eating before it goes off, and your dishwasher is half filled with dirty dishes that have been in there for about a week already, so you kind of need to go turn it on, and there's probably also a load of laundry you could do, plus a quick pass of your floors with a vacuum, maybe.

Joe doesn't get to read it for a few hours. Busy day on set. When he eventually does, sort of annoyed that you had to wait for his coloured ticks again, he texts back, "Yours?"

And you text back so quickly, it makes his guilt grow.

"don't forget your key, im gonna lie down "

Perfect, Joe thinks. He'll sneak in and maybe get some of your shit sorted whilst you kip on your sofa.

But when he walks in, you're not on the sofa. You're already in bed, and that's sort of heartbreaking, because it's so early, and Joe finds the food that's about to go off uneaten in your fridge still. Finds the dishwasher still half filled, smelling rank, dirty dishes growing mould in there. He also sees the full hamper that needs sorting and washing, and, how had he even had the gall to assume that you could just make time for him at a moment's notice when you hadn't even been able to take care of any of this?

Joe starts the dishwasher.

Sorts your dirty laundry and starts a dark wash.

Cooks the food that's about to go off and places it in plastic tubs to have at another time.

Notices you've not taken the flowers that he had express delivered home and tries not let that affect him, but fails.

You're not sure what it is that wakes you. The beeping of the dishwasher, or the clanging of plates as Joe places the clean ones back into their cupboards. When Joe comes to find you, you're on your side, facing away from the door, but Joe can see you're awake by the light from your phone that silhouettes you.

"You're awake," Joe says, voice surprised, and it makes you turn to look over your shoulder.

"Hey," you say softly, and Joe's eyebrows knit together automatically at how sad you sound.

"Thanks for the flowers," you turn in bed to let Joe kiss you as he bends over to place a small one to your forehead. "They got delivered during my presentation."

"Was it embarrassing?" Joe asks, sitting down next to you, one arm either side of you as he leans over. Kisses you again, but on your mouth this time.

"Very. Vanessa just barged in with them."

"Did you like them?"

"Hmm," you nod and give a little smile. Joe's glad for it, but he feels there's a distance there still. You're keeping your hands to yourself, even though his bare arms are right there.

"I um," Joe starts, and wants to start listing all the things he's done. Wants to tell you how he's been sweet, and kind, like you were with him this morning, and he wants those things to be the silent I love yous he should've given you last night.

But then he changes his mind and says, "Did the, um... did the presentation go okay?"

You nod, because it did go really well, actually. Thank fuck. But Joe doesn't ask any more questions about it, and he seems to hesitate to even speak at all. Seems to want to say something that he's clearly not saying. Afraid to say the wrong thing, maybe. You wonder if there's a sincere I'm sorry hiding in there somewhere.

"You seem tired..." he skirts around the issue, and it's disappointing, but not surprising.

"I am tired."

Then Joe looks at the empty space in your bed for a moment and gets up. Starts undressing. Leaves his clothes in a neat pile on your dresser and goes to brush his teeth.

When Joe looks at himself in the mirror, he frowns.

Fucking idiot.

Look at that coward.

He rests both hands on the sink, hangs into his shoulders, breathes through flared nostrils, and feels like a failure. You must think he is one too.

He didn't reach over last night.

With his toothbrush still in his mouth, he steps back into your bedroom and inhales a deep breath through his nose before he mumbles a barely audible and a very foamy, "I shouldn't have..."

He hears himself, grumbles low in this throat and turns on his heel, spits the toothpaste out and comes back.

Starts again.

"I shouldn't have said those things. Last night. I was being a dick, I shouldn't have done– well, anything, really. I was being mean just to be mean, I'm–"

"Joe," you interrupt, your voice soft.

You didn't reach out either.

"No," Joe argues, moves to sit back down next to you, arms back either side of you, hands pressing into the mattress. "You have nothing to be sorry for, I just," Joe sighs. Frowns. Doesn't know what to say.

What can he say to make you run a hand up one of his forearms?

"I didn't..." he tries once more, but falters again. Drops his head and knows he can't cry because he is not the person he's hurt.

He didn't reach over last night.

"Hey. I didn't either."

You read between the lines, even though your vision goes blurry with tears. You can hear the words Joe isn't saying and can read the thoughts he's not communicating. Joe's face always tells you a million things. You wonder if he's aware how easy he is to read.

You also wonder if he's aware that it's not going to be enough.

Joe swipes a thumb across your temple, close to your eye, and catches a tear that was about to slide into your hair.

He swallows thickly. Tries to swallow down whatever's hurting his throat.

"I don't want to live on the moon..." he then mutters, regretting how he set the world on fire. He wants to live on planet earth, even though it's all grey and black ashes now. He'll plant flowers there. Will feed them water, and will politely ask the sun let them grow.

Will ask you.

You're the sun.

You get to decide.

You don't fully understand what Joe means, because it sounds ridiculous, actors and their theatrics, but you tell him you don't want to live on the moon either and he huffs a laugh at how absurd that sounds coming from your straight face that's pretending it's not actively crying.

You're the sun.

Of course you don't want to live on the moon, silly.

"Your priority–" you start, breath hitching, but Joe is quick to interrupt.

"You. You. Us. I'm... it's us. I promise, it's us..." Joe sighs again, seemingly upset at remembering his own behaviour.

"Saying that is easy, though," you start, finally letting your fingers slowly wrap around one of his arms.

A touch.

It's enough to make Joe's whole face crumble.

He ducks down. Lets his arms find your shoulders to pull you up a little so he can hug you properly, both arms wrapped tightly around your frame, his face hidden into your neck, and you know Joe's only crying because of your fingertips touching his wrist. The smallest things can get him sometimes – so dramatic.

But you continue, "I believe that you believe that your priority is us, but when you're stomping around your kitchen, blaming me for shit I have no controll over, telling me that it's my fault that I–"

"No," Joe mumbles into your skin, and pulls back just enough to press his forehead against yours. "No."

And you give his forehead a slight push with yours and you want to say, yes.

Yes that's what you were doing.

Yes that's what happened.

Yes you got caught up in all of your own feelings and forgot that I have a whole set of my own.

But then Joe whispers, "I'm sorry." and you can't help but go absolutely lax in his hold.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have. I love you, I'm sorry." he whispers his apologies against your mouth through heavy breaths because he's doing his best to not cry, but he's failing, because then he feels you shake with a sob, and, fuck that, he'll banish himself to the moon, actually.

He'll live up there no matter how miserable it is, and he'll take whatever sunlight he can get, and he'll be thankful for the rays you'll allow to even reach him at all.

"You didn't t-touch–" you stutter, and immediately feel Joe squeeze you tighter.

"I'm sorry, I love you. I'm so sorry." Joe whispers right into your ear. Keeps repeating it, over and over and over.

Your one rule.

He should've never broken it.

It's good to hear the words, the I'm sorrys tumbling over his lips, and you'll accept them for now. But actions speak louder than words, and you know that there will probably be a time where the way the world treats Joe will make his head grow to twice its size again. He'll do and say similar shit. Won't want to meet you halfway, but will demand that you make the trek all the way over to him, won't care what the ground will look like, and won't care if you're wearing shoes for it or not.

Joe doesn't know it right now, but you can see into the future and know it will happen again.

And when it does, you'll grow a little colder.

Let some of your rays die out.

"Here. Lay back." Joe says after holding you for a while, and when your head finds your pillow again, Joe curls around and uses every body part of his to touch yours under the covers.

Every inch of skin touching yours is a big fat quiet I love you that he'll repeatedly tell you all night. He's not gonna let go.

He knows he's on the moon still. Up there, all alone. Cold. In the dark.

He said he's sorry, but knows it's not enough.

Wants off, but is smart enough to not set foot somewhere he's not allowed yet.

He has said that he's sorry, and now he needs to wait for the sun.

Wait for you.

And he'll touch you under the covers until you're ready.

Whispers the promises into your hair as you fall asleep.

You get to decide.

He'll let the sun decide.

---

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[jillsandwhichs]

RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection , Chap 7 , Gentle Mornings

Masterlist

Pairing: F!Reader x Chris Redfield (RE6)

Summary: Chris wakes you up and surprises you with breakfast in bed. And if that wasn't enough, he fucks you against the kitchen counter : D

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Dating

WC: 2.6k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: Kissing, Dirty talk, Clit rubbing, You cum on his fingers, Kitchen sex, Unprotected PiV, Spanking, Hair pulling, He finishes inside of you

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

"Wake up beautiful."

You could hear the deep voice faintly, you knew it was Chris. You are so tired though, more sleep'll do you good. You could lay in this comfy bed forever and be content, but alas.

"Sweetheart, get up." Chris said softly.

You could feel his gentle big hand caressing your upper arm-it made you feel all warm inside. Chris is very physically affectionate, which you love. Being touched is something you also enjoy, more-so than being the toucher. Chris is like a bear-he's large and cuddly. "Baby, I'd love for you to open your eyes." At this point, you were being stubborn and you could tell just by his tone that he knew. "Don't make me make you." He teased, patting your butt.

Ultimately, you opened your eyes.

"Hi." You chuckled, sitting up and adjusting to the light in the bedroom. The curtains were spread apart, the light was on and the TV was on too-all so glimmery. "Hey princess, good morning." Chris laughed, stroking a few pieces of loose hair from out of your face. "Did you sleep good?" "I did. I slept very good actually." "Good." Chris smirked, leaning in and kissing your cheek gently. He is in such a good mood, it's odd. Of course, he always tries to be positive but this is just weird, especially considering it's... You checked the clock. Nine in the morning...

Analyzing the room, you noticed a tray of food set on the white dresser the two of you share. You were curious as to what it was.

"What's that baby?" "Oh, the food? Well baby," He stood up and grabbed the tray carefully, scared it may tip over just by one wrong move. "I made you breakfast." Chris said kindly, sitting on the edge of the bed once again. Did he really? How sweet of him. The only other time he's ever done this was on Christmas a few months back. "Sweetie, really?" You spoke in awe-he is truly the best. "Thank you. Why though?" You tittered, picking up the fork-you were ready to dig in. "Just thought you deserved it." He whispered, caressing your lower leg.

The plate had all sorts of goodies on it. Toast, eggs, fruit and sausage, it looked amazing. You were still somewhat confused as to why Chris suddenly decided to do this for you but either way, the gesture is out of this world.

You are excited to eat. Funnily enough, you are starving first thing when you wake up since you don't eat before bed, it's as if he read your mind. "Just eat up honey, I'll be out in the living room, okay?" "Alright." You gave him a quick nod as you took a bite of the steaming, smokey meat. Chris grinned, he was glad you were happy. "Good, love you." Chris pressed a kiss to your small nose before exiting your guy's shared bedroom. "I love you as well." You shouted, making sure he could hear you good.

You'd eat then go see him, that's the plan. You began to eat as fast as you could, you now just wanted to spend your morning with him before he has to leave for work at ten.

-

The breakfast he made you was immaculate. Chris is an amazing cook, definitely better than you are. You finished it rather quickly too, surprisingly. All that was left on your plate was a couple scrambled eggs but other than that, it was totally clean.

You hopped up out of bed with a grunt & a yawn-you were still pretty tired. Plate in hand, you walked out of the bedroom.

Down the hall, you could see Chris. He was just sitting on the couch, checking out one of his stupid man magazines that he gets weekly. He noticed you were done and whistled, seeing you walk out in just your shirt and panties. "Hey hot stuff." He teased, tossing the magazine down and getting up off of the couch. "Hi." You smiled from afar, setting your plate down in the empty sink-he even did the dishes!

Ambling towards you, you couldn't help but let out a soft sigh as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. His face tucked itself into the crook of your neck. He placed soft, warm kisses all along it. "Mmm, I love you." What has him in this type of mood today? "I love you so much but Chris, why are you being like this?" You chortled, setting your hands on top of his, his were resting on your lower tummy. "Because I love you, is that an issue? Can I not love my girlfriend?" Such an ass.

"Babe, don't be dense," You snorted, "Trust me, I love this, you just usually aren't this lovey dovey, that's all." "Well I'm feeling it today." His kisses moved to the back of your ear. You can't deny it, it's turning you on deep down.

As he kissed all over your face from behind, you felt his large hands begin to trail downwards. The shirt you are wearing is oversized and long, but you knew he'd continue. Once his finger tips were just above the waistband of your panties, he stopped and whispered, "Can I?" Um, of course he can.

"Mhm." You mumbled. Your hands were holding onto his wrists, you didn't know where else to place them. With a groan, you felt his hand slide down the outside of your panties. His thick fingers were right above your covered clit. You were wet and you knew he could tell. "So soaked for me, hmm?" He whispered in your kiss, planting more kisses onto it. "Mhm." You giggled, your breath shuttered as he pressed down onto your nub. "I wanna fuck you so hard right now." He growled.

You two literally fucked last night, he is such a teenage boy. "Did you not get it out of your system last night?" "Oh I did, but you build it back up so easily." Chris chuckled. He began to slowly rub your clit through your panties. His fingers are magical. "Oh." You seethed. Your head tossed back as he caressed your clit quickly. "Feels good?" "Yeah..." You whimpered. It was hard to keep your eyes off of his hand. It was fascinating-how he would please you.

"You gonna cum for me baby?" That condescending tone he gets when he knows he is ruining you. "Shut up." You huffed out, earning a snicker out of him. "You know I'm just messing with you."

Chris rubbed it even faster. Your legs were shaking already. Your clit felt like it was going to explode. That inevitable firey feeling in your stomach was evident, it was burning-a burning passion for Chris. The breakfast in bed, the dishes being done and his loveyness? Yeah. It was no surprise he was also going to wind up fucking you.

A few more caresses-and it was your undoing. You loudly moaned, your legs shaking and your back arching automatically. Chris hummed, kissing the back of your head a couple times as you came just by him stroking you. "That's my girl." He commended you, enjoying how fast you finished for him.

Suddenly, you squealed as he bent you over the kitchen counter. You've never fucked in a kitchen before, this is new. "What're you doing?" You questioned him. The sound of his fly being pulled down was heard. "Fucking you, what does it look like?" Chris chuckled, bringing his hand to your ass and squeezing it. You giggled and simply rested your head against the cold, polished counter.

You bit your lip seductively. It's so early in the morning, how could he possibly be in the mood already? You aren't complaining though. You could feel him pulling your panties down your legs til he left them at your ankles-a hard slap then came to your ass. You could hear him pulling his sweatpants down as well, he was wasting absolutely no time. "I'll be gentle, at least at first." Chris teased. You giggled. He knows how to make you laugh.

Chris's hand went to your ass, gripping onto it for support. Chris has a love for your ass, he's always been more of a butt guy. "Mmm." You heard him moan out from behind you. You knew he wasn't going to waste any more time-foreplay was non-existent.

You could hear his hand pumping his cock. He gets turned on so easily. You remember the time you simply walked out in a messy ponytail and a pajama set and not even a minute later, he was deep inside of you. You two fucked very early on into your relationship-its not surprise it happens so often in your relationship.

"You sure I can?" "Yes baby." You chuckled, spread your legs slightly more, wanting him inside of you already. You could hear him whisper something beneath his breath. It sounded like he said "Fuck." But it was hard to tell. Chris is absolutely enthralled by you. He's obsessed with you, just as you are with him. You felt his tip tease your entrance-instantly arousing you furthermore. "Oh." You winced. You were fighting the urge to push yourself into him.

With his hand on your ass, the other around his dick, you moaned softly as he entered you. Your body accepted him with grace. The way you wrapped around him directly after said so much. You were made for him-that is how you feel at least. "My God," Chris hummed, both hands squeezing your rear. "You're so damn tight." Those words are like music to your ears. You didn't really know how to respond. Dirty talk has never necessarily been your forte. "You feel good." You whispered whilst nestling your head against your arms.

Feeling him felt like heaven. He's not too long nor too big, he's just right. You've missed this-despite it only being a literal day since you two made love.

Chris began to pull out of you. He was slow with it. He dragged it out so long. "Chris." You whined. Feeling every single inch slip out of you was tortuous. You just wanted him to rail you-hard. All you got in response was a snicker. He's such a prick sometimes. A sexy one though.

Once his tip was practically out of you, he slammed back into you. Your entire body was shoved into the counter, causing you to wince. Both of his hands held onto your waist firmly. Each thrust was exuberant. You loved how he used you. His pleasure meant everything to you. You can't get enough of the idea of him being fulfilled. He deserves it. His hands caressed your midriff with each movement.

All you could do was relax and let him use your pretty little pussy as he pleases.

Your head was resting against your cold arms-the counter being even cooler. Each time he pounded into you, your hood thrusted against the counter. While it wasn't the most pleasant feeling, the feeling of him being buried inside of you countered it out. He's so good at this. He's always been practically a God at fucking you. He makes you cum way to easily.

"Baby." You moaned, your eyes closing and mouth becoming permanently agape. You felt a wack come to your ass as his speed increased, along with the power of his movements. He is already leaking inside of you. You could feel his member twitching, just begging for that lovely release. Making love like this, oh it'll never get old. "Just keep taking it, princess." He muttered. His fingers were slowly yet surely making their way up your back, trailing ever so slowly.

"I can't..." He stammered. "I cannot get over how good you feel, God, you're soaked." He huffed out. You began to push yourself against him, therefore he wouldn't be the only one working. You heard him grunt & moan. It felt good to know you could please him just as he does with you.

For a moment, you could tell he quit his movements. Now, it was all you. You pushed your ass up against his man hood, moving and twisting in all sorts of ways, just attempting to bring him closer to his peak. You wanted to make him feel all sorts of ways. "You are so sexy." You heard him mumble. His deep, scratchy voice has always been so attractive. "Say more." You moaned. You wish you could be staring at him in this very moment. You wanted to see his face as you made him moan & grunt and overall made him feel perfect.

"I love you."

"I needed this."

"You're so pretty, baby."

Gosh.

Everything he said just made you feel euphoric.

As you felt his hand nuzzle itself into your hair, you whimpered. With a tug and a thrust, he was suddenly fucking you like literally never before. He was holding your hair tightly. Your head being forced backwards, all you could do was let it happen. It felt so good. He was moving so fast now, so hard too. "Good girl." Chris whispered. You could tell just admiring you. Taking the sight of you in. You were his drink and he was dehydrated. He needed this just as much as you did.

You could feel how deep he was inside of you.

Each pump, you felt like he was bruising your insides. His girth brushed against your clenched walls. The movements brought you closer and closer with stroke. You needed to release. It was becoming way too much.

"I'm gonna cum." You panted out. You could feel it-your orgasm stirring up inside of you. "Cum for me baby." Chris grunted. His free hand came down and squeezed your ass before smacking it-that was what finished you off.

Arching your back even more than before, you whimpered quietly as you came all around it. Your fluids coated the entire base of his dick. "Fuck." Chris chuckled, caressing your rear. "Such a dirty girl." The way he spoke, so intense & sexy. "I'm gonna cum too." Chris moaned.

He let go of your hair, allowing you some freedom. You held yourself up now, both arms resting on the counter to uplift you. His head went to the crook of your neck. You could feel his breath on your throat-it was hot and he was close. "Gonna cum so deep inside of you." "Oh." You moaned, tossing your head back slightly, feeling him plunge into you at a non-human rate.

He did not lie.

Shortly after, you felt his semen shoot inside of you. Right as he came, he simply stilled inside of you. It felt so interactive, so pleasurable. "Mmm, dear Lord." He snickered. He kissed your neck a few times, breathing in your intoxicating, feminine scent. "That feel good?" "So good." You giggled.

Chris pulled out of you and immediately grasped you, holding you up. It's like he knew. Your legs were weak & wobbly. You felt like a balloon. "I gotcha sweetheart." He laughed, kissing you gently. The kiss was so sweet. He takes care of you, even after such rough and intimate moments. "We should shower." "Good thinking." Chris whispered.

Your boyfriend picked you up into his arms and off you two were to the restroom.

Hopefully while he's at work, he won't be able to get his mind off of you and it'll be just like this when he arrives home...

[m3vl0vesu]

𝑨 𝒄𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅

..............................................................................................................................

He didn’t smile. 

.

.

That was one thing you noticed about the only other kid in the classroom, one of the many Wayne kids.

 And apparently the only biological one, not that you cared really. His family was none of your business, you should really be more concerned about your own to be honest…never mind. You closed your eyes and sighed, catching the attention of the boy, who was now sitting in your chair. Well it wasn’t yours but it was yours. He watched as  you adjusted the pile of sketching paper slightly to the right, making sure they were all aligned perfectly. He watched you watching the boxes full of dis-arranged paint tubes and bottles, he saw the way your hand twitched at the scene. Weird. 

.

.

It was a Thursday afternoon and every Thursday, after last period,  you would head towards the art room upstairs. It was the only club you ever joined. You got to know everyone there and some even became your friends. But even after the club ended you’d still linger in the room. Even after you'd cleaned up your (and other people’s) mess, and you had put the pencils away, and you had cleaned the paint pots, you lingered. It had become a habit, you enjoyed the quietness. You enjoyed that the only noise you could hear was your breathing. What you didn’t enjoy was that the ‘new’ kid also liked staying behind. 

Ruining one of the only times your mind was quiet…or quieter than usual. I mean it’s not like he was loud or anything no-it was just his presence, you wanted to be alone-no. Needed do be alone. But what can you do? He liked art. He was damn good at it too. 

So there really was no point in being annoyed, just suck it up and deal with it. Like you always do. Why do you always do that? After another sigh, you swing your bag over your shoulder and walk out. You didn’t mean to slam the door, honestly there was no reason for you to be angry, Damian didn’t do anything wrong. Damian. Damian. Ugh. Why was his name also annoying? . . . As you turn the corner you stop abruptly. Looking up you meet the eyes of your Art teacher, Miss Williams, she looked down with an eyebrow raised. You smiled. You really did adore her and her loving nature, she was like a big mama bear. Gotham didn’t deserve her. She was so…her.

 Every other day she had some new fun way to do her hair, today her afro was star-shaped. Fitting. You smile softer, the sound of her voice saying your name pulling you out of your trance. “You're leaving earlier than usual” she states, almost concerned, “is something wrong?” You just shake your head, leaving after a simple goodbye

.

.

.

The bus was almost empty. Your eyes stared at Gotham Academy until it was out of sight. It was a big school, you hated it. 

Hated the rumour-filled halls, the rude pompous pricks that roamed the halls, hated that you were on a scholarship for so therefore could not escape it. And you especially hated how proud your mother looked whenever she saw you in the uniform. As the bus continued to drive you watched the big mansions and penthouses turn into dirty streets and run-down apartments. It was a big difference. Messy, dirty, bloody…home. Your eyes spotted the way the bus driver’s lips tugged upwards as you gave him a small thank you. It was probably the only nice words he heard today, it was probably the only nice words you said today. The worn-out soles of your shoes hit the ground and you begin walking, just a few minutes away from home. Each leaf you stepped on getting more darker than the last, it was almost winter. That meant that after school clubs would be closed. Barely even any schools even have after school clubs in the area, since it’s Gotham. .

.

. After a call with your mother you slowed down, not really wanting to go home. It was quiet on the streets. Oh wait. 

Now it wasn’t. There was shouting, it sounded like two-or more-male voices. You see, there's a rule when you walk the Gotham streets. Do not, whatever you do, look. Just keep walking. And you do. Don’t look. Keep walking. 

Don’t look. Keep walking. 

Don’t look. Keep walking.

Don’t look. Keep walkin- . . . After the very obvious gunshot you heard a distant thud. 

Your feet stopped and your knees felt weak, bile rising in your throat as you stared wide eyes at the pavement in front of you. Don’t look. 

You beg yourself not to turn around. 

So you close your eyes, and beg yourself not to open them. . . . Small arms wrap around you as you lay in bed, your sister mumbling about something going on with her friends. The rest of your journey home was a blur, all you know is that you will not be going school tomorrow. Even if that means lying to your parents. . . .

..............................................................................................................................

>>>>Pt.II

A/N: This is going to be a story based fic with some dark themes. Feel free to click off if any of it disturbs you in any way. I know there wasn’t much Damian in this but there will be more in pt 2! I always try to keep Reader as ambiguous as possible, this is a f!reader fic but you can read no matter what gender! :D Reblogs are always loved and as always Mev loves you!!

[bee-cringe]

If you hate one your past self for liking dsmp don't even talk to me, in fact, if you hate on your past self for being "cringe" or "weird" I think you should think about why you're doing that, is this really what makes you happy? Hating on yourself for daring to find joy in something?

[dailykugisaki]

Day 127 | id in alt

They hangin out on a building fr.

[idonthaveacontract]

Please say your "main controversial female character opinion". Coward. :)

hmmm it's about my personal level of interest in Joan which is not very high even though I generally like her and she has many incredible moments. But I feel really disconnected from the general fervor surrounding her both on here and tbh society-wide and I'm kind of cynical in thinking that's coming from a place of uhhhh people not actually appreciating her for her strength of character if you know what I mean. The next time I rewatch intentionally I'd like to focus more on her so I could hopefully make more posts that lead to a more humanized and not so girlboss-y conversation around her because as it is idk the way the notes of my posts about her read is just off to me compared to every other character. I don't think it's wrong of me or anyone to just say "I don't connect with this character as much as the others" which is how I would generally characterize my feelings towards her but I also think there's a lot there I haven't leaned into just because I don't really get anything from the typical discussions around her because they're kind of hollow to me so I would say that's both an indictment of me not trying the way I do with other characters and the culture kind of sucking. badly.

[moonchild-in-blue]

I need our best friend Mr. Adam Ross to come through with those flower crown pictures because I cannot function right now.

(also if they decide to give ii one as well I'll legitimately pass away)

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

the heist!mark brainrot is consuming me…, just imagine mark n the viewer meeting for the first time as little kids to shoplift candy or smth together ╥﹏╥

the (brain)rot consumes!! I can relate

my dear anon... LISTEN. I am a big advocate for childhood friends captaineer, it's one of my favourite headcanons, but a childhood friends AU for the heist partners? that's something I hadn't considered until now. and it's adorable. I had to write something for it asap because I was INSPIRED. I hope you enjoy💖 thanks for sparking the idea!

Heist!Mark x reader (not explicitly romantic at all it's more about the friendship in this one) | Words: 1,317

You are in the kitchen of your shared home base, unloading the groceries your heist partner has just bought, when you pick up a bag of sour candies, smiling quietly to yourself. He's always been a fan of them.

Turning the packet in your hands, an old memory drifts to the surface of your mind:

You don't remember exactly how long ago it was, but you couldn't have been much older than maybe ten.

Your father was busy working, and had reluctantly sent you to the store with a small list after you insisted you could handle it on your own.

You slipped the folded piece of paper out of your school bag and scanned the list of items. At the bottom was a note that read, ‘Remember to stay hydrated, kiddo! :)’

You walked around the supermarket collecting the few things on your list and placed them in your trolley. On your way to the checkout, you passed through the candy aisle and slowed to eye the products on display.

‘Aren't you going to get anything?’

Your head perked up, shocked at the sudden voice addressing you.

There was a boy next to you with dark hair, looking at you inquisitively. He seemed to be about your age. He might have even been slightly shorter than you.

You must have been standing here for longer than you realised if it had prompted him to ask you about it.

You shook your head.

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, um. My dad only gave me enough money for what we need,’ you said timidly, showing him the list.

‘Ohh, that's too bad.’ Then, a small yet undeniably mischievous smile appeared on his face. He glanced discreetly up and down the aisle. ‘You know you can just — ’ and he took one of the small packets of candy off the shelf and slipped it swiftly into his pocket.

Your eyes went wide, stunned. Both from the fact that he was suggesting you steal, and at the speed and subtly with which he'd enacted the crime, as if he'd done it dozens of times before, if not more.

‘What are you doing?’ you spoke in a harsh whisper.

‘It's no big deal,’ he said in a lower voice than before, but one that still felt entirely too loud. He slipped another bag into his pocket.

You did not want to associate with this boy any longer.

You pushed your trolley away and towards the checkout, handing your items to the cashier.

You were unhappy to find the boy waiting for you when you exited the store, shopping bag in your hand.

‘What do you want?’ you asked, a little standoffishly, frowning at him.

‘There's no need to be rude,’ he said with a small pout. ‘Y'know, I think I might have seen you at school a few times.’

To your dismay, he followed along as you started walking home. When you pressed him, he simply said, ‘Hey, I'm not following you! I live down this way too, I promise!’

As the two of you walked, he chatted annoyingly by your side. What was more annoying was that you found you didn't mind his presence. You were a quiet kid and you didn't have many friends. Having someone to walk home with you was kind of a nice change of pace.

Just as you thought this, though, you immediately chided yourself mentally. You and him were not friends. You weren't going to be friends. This boy was a criminal and he wasn't even sorry about it.

You frowned in thought.

Oh no, what if he got caught? What if you went to juvenile jail for being an accomplice to theft? What would Dad say? What would Mom say? What if—’

‘Hey, are you listening to me? You haven't responded to anything I'm saying.’

You simply sighed as he pulled you out of your thoughts.

‘Are you still mad about the candy? I told you it's not a big deal.’

You stopped as you realised you were approaching your front door. The journey seemed to have gone a little faster than usual.

‘Really?’ you finally replied in an exasperated tone. ‘That was no big deal for you? That was stealing. Stealing is wrong.’ You couldn't believe you had to spell it out to him.

‘They won't notice a couple tiny bags of candy are gone. My mom says big companies that own supermarkets are greedy. They make loads of money anyway and don't pay enough taxes.’

‘Does your mom know you're a thief?’

‘W- well, no, but-’

‘That’s what I thought.’

He looked a little disheartened.

‘Please don't tell anyone. I'm sorry if I upset you,’ he said quietly, looking down.

You hadn't really expected an apology from someone like him. You sighed again.

‘I won't tell, but don't expect me to just go along with it. And don't act like we're best buds all of a sudden. We don't know each other. You don't even know my name!’

‘Well, what's your name?’

You gave him a slightly surprised look before telling him your name, albeit hesitantly.

‘Look, I have to get going now…’

You fumbled with the shopping bag as you reached into your coat pocket, feeling for the house key, when you suddenly felt something that wasn't there before. It made a crinkling sound beneath your touch.

‘You didn't.’ You pulled the candy out of your pocket. ‘When did you—?’

The boy grinned at you.

‘I thought you could have one of mine.’

‘I don't want your stolen candy!’

‘Judging by how you looked at it earlier, I think you do. And besides, stolen treats taste better!’ he called out, already walking away.

‘Wh- SHH!’ You hoped none of your neighbours had heard.

‘I'm Mark by the way! See ya, buddy!’

You stood outside the front door, dumbfounded.

Finally you let yourself in. Your dad wouldn't be home yet for a while.

You put the shopping away and sat down at your kitchen table, staring at the stolen goods in front of you.

You could try to put it back but… that would be more suspicious.

You figured, the deed had been done. There was nothing you could do now, so you may as well make the most of it.

You tore the edge of the packet and popped one of the candies in your mouth, savouring the sweet and sour combination on your tongue.

Maybe Mark was right. It did taste extra good. But maybe it was just because you'd been craving it.

What a weird kid.

‘Stealing is wrong, huh…?’ you mumble under your breath. You look down at the candy in your hands. It's not the same brand as the one from back then, but you imagine it tastes more or less the same, from what you remember.

Present day Mark is the one to pull you out of your musings.

‘Hey, what's with that face you're making? I know that look, buddy. Are you contemplating your life choices??’

You chuckle softly.

‘Just… got reminded of something. I suppose I got lost in nostalgia for a moment.’

‘Oh yeah? Penny for your thoughts?’

You turn and smile at him.

‘This just made me think of an annoying little boy stealing candy from a supermarket. And his reluctant acquaintance who ended up getting dragged into his antics for the foreseeable future.’

It takes a second for it to click.

‘Ohhhhh.’ You watch as realisation turns to him smiling fondly at the memories, which turns to him snapping his attention to you with a fake-offended look.

You laugh at his expression.

‘Wait, hey! Annoying?!’

‘Mhm.’

‘Excuse you, I was a wonderful, sweet and positively charming child.’

Your laughter rings out in the kitchen, full of mirth, and he shakes his head at you with a familiar lopsided grin, and you are so grateful for the cheeky little boy who approached you that day.

[harvestmoth]

pocket monster ideas

[jungleboy-cruise]

Bad news lads.... i didn't like the Barbie movie.

I'm gonna rant about my take in the tags please don't send me messages for why I'm wrong this was my personal take away if you don't like it and it makes you mad please just block me.

[foolishreichmasquerade]

I usually don't judge fiction as I really am not that type o' guy but I have a LOT of trouble finding art that matches how I see Crow because I am barely comfortable the lackluster of fanart with any other body type than uncomfortably buff + uncomfortably human. maybe its just my neurodivergent ass but I personally don't like when they draw him like that.

[exoexid]

he does deserve that spot he's crazy and evil they're perfect for each other but more importantly he should kill that man <3

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

HEY! Just because I am now 20 I think having something to kind of re establish boundaries would be good! Considering the ones I put all those times ago have changed :D GENERAL RULES! Do not be racist, sexist, homophobic, antisemitic, ableist, or discriminatory against anyone for any reason. Please if someone is calling you out for things you have done or said, please self-reflect and take the proper steps to change or remove yourself from the community. If you see something you do not like, and it IS MADE WORSE BY BRINGING ATTENTION TO IT, THEN IGNORE IT! Bringing attention to problems that just arent really problems with either the community or me in general are not worth it! Please use common sense when thinking about what/what not to engage with! I personally wish that people in the community do NOT engage with people who just obviously do not like me! Chances are they want a reaction from it so it is MUCH better to just not argue with someone whos mind you will not change! ALLOW CRITICISM OF ME AND MY CONTENT! IF YOU DONT AGREE OR DONT LIKE THEN DO NOT ARGUE ABOUT IT!!!! ALL IT WILL DO IS CAUSE UNESSICARY DRAMA!!! DO NOT make ANY comments or content about me that is explicitly sexual. I completely understand that lately there have been bits due to the changes in how I’ve been presenting myself and how I’ve been presenting more femininely, but that does not allow anyone to use that as an excuse to sexualize any features and such that are more feminine or masculine. Remember that femininity is not sexual and should not be seen or created as such just because its there! (for example, the Vtuber costume and chat being overly weird over the added boobs where there was no need for it). DO NOT draw me in ways that are sexual either, such as highlighting any aspects in a sexual way, or making the content something sexual. I am completely okay with being drawn as any body type, masculine presenting or feminine presenting, as long as you stick to this! PLEASE DO NOT SPECULATE ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE!!! Making jokes about certain topics CAN be fine, but a line is crossed when it becomes a legitimate speculation or if a joke is said when I have expressed my discomfort! RESPECT MY FRIENDS!!! All of my friends are their own, incredible people. And they do not deserve to be lumped in or referred to as JUST "my friend". Be respectful in their chats even when im not there, and be respectful to all of them everywhere else! IF SOMEONE IS TRYING TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU MAY BE DOING SOMETHING WRONG PLEASE LISTEN!!! There has been a lot of times in which I have seen people be unwilling to change in the face of a genuine discussion, and that is not something I want in the community! I should NOT have to police every single thing because it should NOT take me saying something in order to change your mind! As my words are not worth more or less when it comes to a lot of subjects! And lastly, do good. Whenever you have the ability to. BE POSITIVE!!! The hater mindset is very draining and can be very toxic to both you and the people around you, so highlight the good instead of the bad if you have the ability to! I am so incredibly proud of how far this community has come, and I cannot wait for the future!!! I have spent some time writing this, but it may not be perfect, so I will update this as time goes on and I think of more, or if something needs to be SUPER cleared up, but for now these are the main ones! I will NOT be updating this after every little thing however, as I do not want you guys to feel like the only way that something is wrong is if I talk about it! As you guys should be able to sustain yourself as a community without my consistent input! Imma go enjoy my birthday by eating a pizza :) thank you all!

[todayisafridaynight]

Would You Believe I was studying so I have yet to watch any further... but I 1000% trust your judgment and will resume shortly!

That's the consensus! He sounds really cute :) I think he's just hard on himself. On that note, this ad is the only time I can remember him singing in earnest (this video was one of the first things that marked my descent into madness btw. Kirin... Ichiban... Domestic "Jo"... what's not to love)

Your tag for my asks was #holder until i think of a tag for these asks!

absolutely valid reason to put a pause on watching my impulse control could never 🙏😭☠️ get that knowledge up my guy !!

ok but help i've actually had kirin ichiban a few times (i remember blogging about it here every time i did vlkaejvlkej), this is a real cute commercial though 😷😷 (even if it does make me hungry.. ironically speaking.. cause its meant to sell me the damn beer--)

[angelicblondie]

fwb!rafe x meanprincess!reader

you knew you werent allowed to be jealous - that wasnt fair, and it certainly wasnt part of rafe and yours agreement.

and you knew it wasnt rational - you didnt even know why you were jealous. it wasnt like you had feelings for rafe, he was you best friend. so the two of you had fun every now and then and hooked up, he was still only just your best friend. in fact. he was really just looking out for you, making sure that you were getting the pleasure you deserved, that no one but him could give you. it was a solid arrangement, and you wouldnt change it anyways.

so what if you wanted to hold on a little tighter after he pleased you? so what if you liked it when he stayed later to watch a movie? so what if you liked it when he bought you things? these were normal things that best friends did, or at least thats what rafe told you.

but you were mad right now, and all you wanted to do was leave this stupid party rafe dragged you to.

rafe had left you alone for just a few minutes with his friends, and you didn't mind at all, enjoying the company of the two boys quite a lot. top and kelce were like brothers to you after all these years, and you thought they were the funniest boys in the obx. you were having fun, but then you turned you head to the drinks table where rafe was, surround by a literal swarm of girls. and the worst part, was he looked like he was enjoying it. you huffed with a narrow of you brows and turned your attention away from the scene, not wanting rafe to catch you looking.

you mind ran wild. what was he doing? why was he enjoying all that attention when you gave him all of yours and then some? were you not good enough for him?

you decided to play it cool, continuing your conversation with the other boys. eventually rafe came back, sitting right next to you as he was before, and handing you a drink. feeling petty, you look at the drink and scrunch your nose up, then shake your head, turning back to top and kelce. rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes, and set your drink on the table in front of him, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back against the couch, his arm resting on the cushion behind you.

you pretty much ignored rafe the whole rest of the night, and you could feel him growing frustrated beside you. rafe cleared his throat before speaking. "I've gotta take this one home, boys, curfew."

you narrow you eyes and open your mouth to oppose, but rafe sends you a withering stare and you decide against it, saying your goodbyes as rafe drags you out.

he huffs, bending down with his hands on your biceps, his expression hardened. "ok, what the fuck was that all about?"

you eyes narrow. "nothing."

he scoffs. "bull shit. why'r you actin like a brat?"

the annoyed pout on you face spoke for itself. "nothing, its just that if you wanna fuck other girls, thats fine, but i'd rather you tell me so I could get checked for whatever weird shit they're carrying around".

rafe face lights in realization and he drops his hands from your arms, running them down his face with an amused smile, shaking his head in subtle laugher.

you pout, spurred on by his sudden amusement. "what?" you snap.

he finishes his laughter, crossing his arms. "no, nothin, its just - I just get it now. i get your lil problem."

you cross your arms, mirroring him. "do you?" you ask sassily.

he chuckles, walking right in front of you, leaning down to be face to face. "sweetie, if you were feelin a lil territorial, just say that," he says, his voice quiet and cocky. his hands traveled to your waist, giving it a good squeeze.

you feel more enraged and you scoff, pushing him away (though he barely budges). "get the fuck over yourself, rafe, god!" you exclaim.

rafe grabs your wrist in a tight grip, the smile disappearing from his face. "hey, no no no. none'a that. was tryin t'be nice but guess thats out of the books, huh princess?" you pout at his condescending tone but don't speak, knowing it would only dig you in a deeper hole.

"y'know that I wasn't gunna fuck any of those girls. we were j'talkin," he explains, his voice coming across level, almost as if he was trying to dumb down his tone.

at his words, you roll your eyes, which causes rafe to tug harder on your wrists. "hey, stop," he scolds sternly. "m'not fuckin anyone else, hear me? so stop being such a little brat about it. god, makes me wonder why I fuckin put up with you."

his words trigger a pout, and you tug again at your wrist, trying to free them. "quit it, rafe, i hear you."

"nuh-uh, dont think y'hearin me," he responds, his features softening up the slightest, "how bout this, huh? i take you back to tannyhill, make y'feel real good, and then you know for sure that m'not fuckin with anyone else? how does that sound baby?"

you werent sure if it was the suggestion, or the way he called you baby that made you agree, but all you knew is that you ended the night with rafe, feeling much more confident that he wasnt, and wouldnt, fuck any other girl in the obx but you.

[2hightocare]

PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷

“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—

Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..

Genre: established relationship!

Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)

a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍

for @ohsweetmimosa !!

Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.

Until you met him.

There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.

You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.

“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.

“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.

“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.

He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.

You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.

You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.

Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.

Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.

“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.

“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.

“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.

“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.

Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.

Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.

He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.

Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.

When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.

It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.

“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.

“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.

“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.

“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.

“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.

“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.

“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.

He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.

Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.

“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.

“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.

“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.

“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.

The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.

Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.

“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.

His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.

“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”

Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.