#i don’t talk enough about how much i love these two together

[kamitv]

Nerd!Nanami who whispers filthy praises into your ear while you’re sitting in his lap and his fingers are curling deep up into your cunt.

He’s got his glasses on but they’re sitting center on the bridge of his sharp nose, allowing them to slide down slowly since he’s too distracted with you to push them up like normal.

You’re facing him and your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, legs spread nice and pretty over his lap while he drives his thick veiny fingers up into your leaky hole. With every moan you let out into his ear, his cock bulges harder against his tight tan slacks.

Rolling his hips up slightly in an attempt of getting some friction, Nanami’s all in your ear whispering to you. “So wet f’me ‘n I’ve barely even touched you all day. Did you miss my fingers that much, sweetheart?” He talks as if you weren’t dry humping him less than twenty minutes prior to this…

Even so, you nod and your lips graze his ear. “Uhuh,” You babble, feeling his fingertips curve right against your g-spot before rubbing against it genteelly.

“Words, pretty girl. Talk to me.” Nanami hushes out to you while dragging his fingers outwards slowly before plunging them right back in and listening to the gorgeous squelch that rings out from your pussy.

Your arms cage his neck all the more tighter and your hips jerk forwards. “Fuck. You w-were busy with work all day Ken’, hnngh… couldn’t s-stop thinkin’ about your hands ‘n how much I—oh fuuck, I m-missed them.”

His lips curve into a knowing smile and he has to adjust his legs below you slightly to stop himself from snatching his fingers out of you and bouncing you up ‘n down his cock for that entire statement alone. Nanami loves it when you talk while he pleases you, he loves the way your words come out all pitched and full of pleasure, just can’t get enough of it.

“Is that so?” He hums simply with a tortuous swivel of his two fingers against your walls that has your legs caging around his thighs tightly. “Did you touch yourself to those thoughts too? Hm?” Nanami’s voice has you dripping all down the skin of his hand, your slick shiny against his wrist as it drips off of him and right over his bulge.

You drop your head into the crook of his neck and roll your hips forward in an attempt of riding the fingers he’s fucking you with. “N-No but, I wanted to.” You admit honestly.

Nanami suppresses a groan. He can only imagine how needy you were for him, probably squeezing your thighs together all day just because you missed him. “Aw,” Nanami coos deeply in that smooth honey-coated baritone of his, “You should’ve done it and then sent me a video. I would’ve stopped working and came to help you, sweetheart.”

Your breath hitches at the thought alone and you immediately start lifting your hips to escape the overwhelming rush of pleasure, to which Nanami places his other hand on your waist and keeps you in place.

“Stay still, pretty girl. Lemme take care of you,” He’s whispering to you again, digging his fingers in and out and in and out while slipping his thumb up and rolling circles over your twitching clit. “Don’t run when y’know she missed me this much. S’not nice.”

“Kento,” You whine in a desperate tone before sliding one of your hands down to hold his wet wrist.

Nanami only increases the pace of his fingers at the sound of your wines, allowing the slicks of your pussy to overtake your small noises rather quickly. Then, he turns his head and kisses at your neck just as you lift and toss your head back. Sucking on your skin, staring up at you intimately, fucking his fingers you adore so much deeper inside you—Nanami makes it so very clear that he just loves pleasing you like this.

“After this,” He speaks hotly into your skin and he can feel your cunt pulsing and clenching around him with every word. “If you help me finish my paper within’ thirty minutes, I’ll fuck you all night jus’ like you want me to.” As his little challenge leaves him, you’re making a mess of his two fingers.

Gasping, “Mmnh, really?” Which only makes him smile because he knows damn well he’s going to do that regardless of the paper he has due tonight.

“Really.” Nanami confirms.

Hell, he’ll fuck you while he completes the damn paper if he has to…

He’s practically picturing it now—having you bent over his work desk, rolling his hips firmly into yours and driving his fat cock in and out of your sopping walls while he simultaneously reaches over to your side and messily writes or types out what he needs to.

Your moans and soft whimpers of his name would be distracting, sure. But Nanami’s pretty sure he can fill you and his paper up at the same time with no problems…

[katiascraft]

"This is how you fall in love" | OP81

parings: Oscar Piastri x Reader.

Summary: Oscar is truly, madly, deeply in love with you.

Now playing: "this is how you fall in love" by Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler.

Word count: +1,2k

Warnings: I think none just pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many errors). I do what I can. Not proofread.

Authors note: hey I don’t even know if this is good - I really hope it is - but I needed to write about Oscar SO BAD. (Btw is Yale in New York? Forgot to look it up). Update: I changed it. Yale it’s no even near to NYC 🤣 I’m a mess. Don’t forget to comment, like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

It was a sunny morning in Monaco. The quiet of the city could still be appreciated. You were asleep on the bed you shared with Oscar. It was your first night here since you haven’t seen each for the last time about 1 month or maybe almost 2. Time is a difficult thing to be aware of with his schedule to be honest.

Both of you had really busy lifestyles yet managed to build this relationship. Mostly it was a long distance relationship. He was traveling and working the whole year. And you were a student at Ivy Columbia University in New York City. As students it was difficult to find a gap between your exam and classes that fitted the races. You tried your best to always be there for him. Even if it was through the phone after the race. And for him that was really considerate.

You didn’t even have time to breathe when it was exams season yet you still find time to call and check on him. He knows it’s an obvious thing you’re supposed to do with people you love. But still he really appreciates it.

He was so happy and grateful you were finally together. Because you don’t see each other that often - every moment you spend together it’s so intense and pure magic. You do everything you could think of before saying goodbye again and part ways. It was the hardest part of your relationship. You said goodbye to each other so many times it anxiety breaking. He just never could get enough from you, from being with you. He has never felt this way about anyone and the fact that it’s been 4 years of being side by side it was crazy to him. How he would never get bored of you. You were always so intriguing, unpredictable, witty. You were the opposite when it came to what others could see. But behind close doors in your little magical and full of love world - you two matched each other's crazy perfectly.

Oscar is an introvert and really shy when it comes to interactions with people, always feeling nervous and so polite. You were always loud and could talk even with a wall if you wanted to. Always the life of the party so extroverted. You were the opposite but the same in a way. You would get so shy around him giggling like the teenager you were since you two met. And he could be the best at flirting and teasing around you. You made him feel so comfortable in his own skin and he just got loose and relaxed. Could be the real him with you. And just for you.

In your little beautiful world you wouldn’t stop talking about everything and anything. Joking around and teasing each other just to end up having sex in the living room. The chemistry between you two was unmatched. Behind your four walls he was the most confident man and you were as well. Bringing the best of each other out. Just for the other one. You were sexy, fierce, not afraid of anything. He made you feel even powerful.the way he always uplift you when you needed him the most and the fact that you could be so vulnerable knowing he won’t judge. He never did. He knew the real you and embraced it. His love changed you so much. He is the best thing that ever happened to you. And you were his. Oscar with you was kind of another person. It was him of course but intensified. Open and free. You gave him that space, that safety. And he adored you so much for that. Being himself it’s something he struggles with most of the time. Shying away. But with you by his side he could be the life of the party too.

He loved watching you study so concentrated. He would join you in silence, maybe by reading a book, or preparing your favorite tea in moral support. Or he would just sit in silence admiring you. How the sun would reflect on you and how it could make you shine even more. How perfect you’d look. And how that could make his heart race high speed. He would feel so lucky to have you. The comfort he felt was so big. He would want the time to stop right there and live stuck there forever. With you. Also, he loved the way you showed him so much love. He loved your homemade cakes and pies. You were so good with pastry. It was your inside joke. Because you were so good with him as well. He sometime would join you and try to help just to fail miserably and start a flour fight. The kitchen ended up in a mess but you were giggling and enjoying yourselves. Everything was worth it.

He really loved sharing activities together. Whether it was a paddle match against George and Carmen or Maria Kart battles with Lando. Also you loved hiking together and discovering new places around Monaco where you could escape reality and plan picnic dates. He loved that you got along so well with his friends and family. Since day one it felt natural. Everyone was welcoming of you. He was so nervous about it. But it was perfect because for him you were.

He heard you coming down the stairs just in time for the breakfast he had prepared for you both. You appeared with your hair in a mess and sleepy eyes. His tshirt on and your boxers of lighting mcqueen. You looked so adorable. Squishy. he smiled widely at you. And you returned the smile hugging him tightly.

“Good morning sleeping beauty” he said sweetly, grabbing you in his arms and kissing your temple. He heard you giggle.

“Good morning my Prince Charming. How grateful I am to wake up next to you for the rest of my life” you said teasingly and romantically looking at him. He giggled blushing. A soft pink tone now on his cheeks. You always had that effect on him.

“and how grateful I am to have you in my arms every morning for the rest of my days” he said just like you making you giggle to then plant a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you,” he said, pulling away gently.

“Me too my love” you said softly.

You two took all of the things he had prepared with so much love to the table by the pool. The morning was beautiful and warm. Perfect. He put all of your favorite fruits and prepared your favorite cappuccino as well. He is always on the details. He remembered everything about you. You didn't have to ask - he already knew. He was perfect. Perfectly imperfect. There was no other man like him. You were sure about it. And you felt really lucky he even looked at you. These past few years were everything and more of what you could ever have dreamed as a kid. You always wanted to have your special someone - but you never thought you would find him.

You had your breakfast talking about what you were gonna do for the day.

Maybe this is what it really feels to fall in love.

Peaceful. Comfortable in silence. Not overthinking. Just being you and feeling loved. Feeling seen. Feeling celebrated. Cared for. Being chosen. The one. The bestest of friends. Your shoulder to cry on. Laughing until crying. Hugs and more hugs. Plasire. Deep talk. Vulnerability. Partnership. Support. Admiration. Trust and communication.

Giving a part of you to someone else to carry everywhere they went trusting they will never break it.

Maybe this is how you fall in love.

How you two fell in love every single day.

——————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

[lanadelnegan]

Sober Enough

S7 Negan x Assistant

Summary: After 2 years of being Negan’s assistant and remaining professional, one night of playing pool together in the Sanctuary's lounge changes everything. Warnings: 18+, smut, extreme dry humping, c*m licking (lots of it), angst, negan being sweet, very slight daddy kink

“You’re insufferable. You know that?” I glare at Negan from across the pool table.

His chest rises and falls with a laugh as he leans over the table, adjusting his stance. “So I’ve been told, doll.” He smirks before sinking the striped ball into the pocket.

“I mean, seriously. Who needs multiple wives?”

He strides around to my side of the table, plucking his beer from the bar behind me and taking a generous gulp.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous.” His gaze drags over me, igniting a heat within me I’ve kept hidden for two years—ever since I became his assistant, or right-hand woman, as he calls it.

I laugh, trying to shake off the warmth spreading through me. “Do you hear yourself, Negan? I think you’re drunk.”

I lean over to line up my shot, but my balance falters, and I tumble into him. His arms wrap around my waist from behind, steadying me. The scent of his leather jacket and woodsy cologne envelops me and I breathe him in.

He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I’m sober enough to catch you.”

Something about his tone and the way his arms are still clinging to me has my heart beating out of my chest. His lips skim across my neck and I smell his minty breath laced with beer, a reminder that this is probably just the alcohol talking.

If I were sober enough myself, I’d plunge out of his arms and call it a night. But my heart is tired of pretending I’m not head over heels in love with this man and have been for a while.

I turn around in his arms, my chest now pressing against his as I look up at him. “What else are you sober enough to do?” My hands roam teasingly along his chest, coming across much more confident than what I’m feeling on the inside.

His slightly glazed-over eyes dart back and forth between mine. He looks like he’s battling himself on the inside right now and I wish I knew what he was thinking. Before I can ask, he leans down and presses his lips to mine, tilting my chin up to gain better access as he deepens the kiss.

I let out a whimper that makes him growl in return, and he turns my back to the pool table, setting me on it like I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around his waist and he holds them there, his rough hands gripping the back of my bare thighs.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me? Walking around here all day in these pretty little dresses, begging for my attention?”

I don’t bother arguing with him. Mostly because he’s right.

His hand closes around my neck gently, claiming me as his. When I let out another whimper, he continues. “That’s what you want, right? My attention?”

He stands between my legs and I don’t know where to put my hands, so I rest them behind me on the pool table as I look up at him.

“That’s why you asked to be my assistant, isn’t it? So you could follow me around all day.” He chuckles, his rough voice growing deeper with each word.

“Answer me.”

“Y-yes.” I say, my heart pulsing.

“Yes, what?” He bites out impatiently.

“Yes sir.”

"Atta girl." He lets go of my neck, his hand gliding down to my exposed thigh, where my dress has been hiked up, almost exposing my damp center.

“Well, you have my full and undivided attention sweetheart. What are you gonna do with it?”

Feeling a surge of confidence, I lean forward, my fingers reaching for the noticeable bulge in his black jeans. His eyes darken as he closely observes my face, allowing me to explore him. I trace my fingers along his lengthy shaft, feeling the ridges beneath and imagining how incredible it would feel to have him inside me.

“I - I wanna see it.” I say, unbothered with how desperate I sound. I’ve imagined what it looks like since the day I met him and he bragged about how big he was. Most men would only brag if they felt the need to compensate for something, but I knew that was never the case with Negan.

And now that I’m feeling him, I know for sure he wasn’t lying. He’s big. Bigger than anything I’ve felt before.

He lets out a low chuckle, carefully removing my hand from his pants and placing it back on the pool table. He then holds my hands down on either side of me, leaning in close to my ear. "Such a desperate little slut, who would've guessed?" he whispers, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You had me fooled with your sweet innocent act, doll."

I wrap my legs tighter around him, needing to feel some sort of friction, even if it’s through his jeans.

"Fuck," he exhales as I begin to grind against him, the sensation making me bite down on my lower lip. His hands return to my thighs, guiding my movements as he gazes down between us. His eyes are fixated on the way our bodies connect through our clothes.

I watch his expression, getting off even more on how his brows knit together and his mouth hangs open slightly. He always looks good, but never as good as right now, with my wet pussy soaking his jeans.

“Negan, fuck, it feels so good.” I cry out, wrapping my hands around his shoulders to steady myself.

His mouth falls to my neck, as he groans with each of my movements, his sounds fueling me to ride him faster. I lift my ass off the table for a better angle and he grips my ass underneath my dress, driving me into him over and over.

“Shit… fuck darlin’, if you don’t stop, I’m- fuck, I don’t want to come yet.”

I pull back, leaning my hands back on the table and riding him slower. I can feel the heat radiating off my cheeks as I stare at him, both of us on the edge and ready to blow any second.

“Baby.. You’re so fucking perfect, have I ever told you that?”

I blush harder at his words, not expecting him to say something so sweet.

“I mean it, y/n. You have no idea how many nights I’ve fucked my fist thinking of you.”

I exhale, speechless as we stare at each other and he rocks his hips into me, taking the lead this time.

His quick, rough thrusts cause my tit to fall out of my dress and his eyes lock on it instantly before he bites his lower lip.

"Fucking perfect." He shakes his head subtly before diving forward and taking it into his mouth, sucking gently on my hard nipple.

I cry out, knowing that’s all it will take to push me over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, Negan, I’m-“

I don’t finish my sentence before tears run down my cheeks, the feeling overwhelming me like no other orgasm I’ve had before. And this is just with his clothes on.

He gazes down at me, a hint of pride etched on his features as he rocks his hips into me.

“That’s it baby, that’s it. Give it to me.”

I start to come down from the high, softly moaning before my lips find his neck and suck on his flesh. He groans in my ear and I know he’s holding back his own orgasm.

“Negan, stop holding back. I want to you to come.”

I pull back slightly, locking eyes with him and I can see his pained expression like he doesn’t want to blow in his pants like someone horny teenaged boy. Taking back control, I grind my hips against his shaft in a circular motion.

“Baby…” he whines.

“Please.. daddy.” I say sweetly, blinking up at him.

“Fuck.” He growls, dropping his forehead to mine as my hips work faster.

“I can’t hold it, sweetheart. Fuck, I -“

He buries his face in my neck, letting out the most animalistic groans I’ve ever heard a man make.

I firmly hold myself against him, feeling him pulse over and over. Knowing that his warm cum is filling his underwear makes me want to get on my knees and lick every last drop.

As if he read my mind, he stands back, unzipping his pants and keeping his gaze locked on me. “On your knees.”

“I-but, you already-“

“Do not make me have to ask twice.” He snaps impatiently.

I drop to my knees hesitantly, gazing up at him while waiting for his instructions. With a proud grin, he pulls his underwear down to his knees.

My eyes widen at the sight of his cock covered in his cum. Even soft, it’s insanely impressive and thick. I reach out to grab it but he knocks my hand away.

With his thumb, he pulls down my lower lip, tracing the pad of it over my tongue. “Open that pretty mouth and clean up the mess you made.”

Taking one last glance at his handsome face, I lean in and lick my tongue along his shaft, instantly moaning at the taste.

“Look at you.” He praises, gliding a hand through my hair. “Such a good girl.”

After a few moments, he pulls away, buckling himself back up. “Fuck.” He lets out a long sigh. “I’m sorry.” He helps me to my feet, but immediately backs away again, running a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Oh, okay... I get it.” I laugh annoyed. “You’re sober now and coming to your senses?

“No, that’s not, fuck, that’s not it. I-“

“Don’t worry, I got it. I’ll see myself out.”

“Y/n…” He says, making no effort to move towards me, which just makes me want to leave the room that much faster.

How stupid was I to think he was actually into me? God, how embarrassing.

I fling the door open to leave when his large palm wraps around my arm, turning me to face him.

“Goddamn it, listen to me.”

“Fuck off, Negan. Next time you get drunk and horny, use one of your wives to get off, not me.”

I try to wiggle out of his grasp but his large frame presses me against the door.

“I wasn’t drunk, y/n. Fuck, I wasn’t even buzzed. I had one beer. And if I wanted to simply use you and get off I would have fucked that pretty pussy without clothes in the way.”

My cheeks heat under his serious gaze. “So why didn’t you?”

“Well, before you tried to run off, I was going to tell you that I’m fucking crazy about you. And have been since day one. Not sure how it wasn’t obvious, doll.”

“Then why did you apologize?”

He slides a hand over my jaw, cupping my face. “Because I didn’t want to tell you like this. I wanted our first kiss to be… hell, romantic.” He rolls his eyes playfully before his serious gaze returns.

“What about your wives?”

“Sweetheart. I haven’t touched any of them since I laid eyes on you.” His pleading hazel eyes bounce back and forth between yours.

“I-I don’t believe you.”

“Then I’ll prove it to you.” He picks me up, carrying me me over to the black leather couch in the middle of the lounge. “But first? We’re going to finish what we started.”

Tag list <3

@loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor

[faeriekit]

CLOSE ENOUGH.

*(This was originally an unbirthday gift for biblioteque on discord! ...and I forgot their tumblr username! So!)*

When Clark is young, he doesn’t know any different.

“Be careful, Kal,” Mama says as he toddles around the house, her hands on his hands, his feet on her feet. They march together, Mama and Kal, as they go around the farmhouse. “You’re going to be big and strong like your father. You gotta be gentle.”

“Gen’le,” Clark gurgles, the word barely English.

Pa laughs from his place on the table, newspaper in hand. “And smart, too!”

Father snorts through his cup of coffee. “There was no possible alternative. Kal-El will be exceptional, as expected of his house.”

“Well,” Mama says cheerfully, cutting Father a look through her glasses, “Maybe he’ll get lucky and won’t be as big-headed as you.”

Pa laughs, and Clark laughs loudly and openly with him; Father smolders into his coffee, and the morning passes.

Clark doesn’t know a lot, when he’s little.

He knows that he hears a lot, so sometimes there are things he’s not allowed to be in the room for: Father puts him to bed with a song and long stories of the science of the stars when Mama and Pa have tense words about money; Mama puts Clark to bed when there are strange men in the cornfield, and Pa stays downstairs with the hunting rifle; Pa or Ma or Father or whoever puts him to bed when the rest of his parents have heavy-breathed and strained ‘alone time’.

“I think Pa’s sick,” Clark says from his tucked-in place in bed, half-listening, playing with his bear’s plush limbs while his parents make noise elsewhere. They sound kinda strained, like they’re working too hard. Pa says that’s not good for you.  

“…That’s not what’s happening,” says Ma, too tired to talk.

Clark pats her hand. Ma sounds like she feels bad too. They move onto sharing a story while Father and Pa make noises down the hall, and eventually Clark gets to sleep.

Clark doesn’t think much of his family when he’s little; it takes going to school to find out that he’s different than the other kids in Smallville.

He’s different from a lot of other kids.  

“I have two names,” Clark tells Chloe at school, before Pa and Ma and Father tell him not to. His second name is a secret. Clark doesn’t know why, but he listens, and stops telling people why Father calls him Kal.

“How come you only have one Mom and one Pop?” Clark asks from the swings, Mike on the pair beside him. His feet pump back and forth as they swing. “Aren’t they lonely?”

Clark tells Tom “I’m not allowed to go outside of town without Ma or Pa,” even though it was super nice to be invited to watch the game with Tom’s family. Clark wrings his hands. “Father says it’s not safe.”

Eventually, Father and Ma and Pa are able to tell Clark the important things—that Clark is special, but not better than anyone else; that Clark is different, in ways that might scare people who don’t already love him; that what Father does is private, and is nobody’s business.

To be fair, Clark isn’t certain what Father does.

Father works in the attic, with equipment that beeps and chimes and hums and doesn’t need to be plugged in. He writes in a language that Clark only sometimes understand, and when Clark reads the results aloud, Father always corrects his pronunciation. The screen for Father’s work is clear and bright. There’s no static, like there is downstairs with the television, and when Clark runs his fingers through the screen, they don’t touch anything at all.

“Don’t touch that, Kal-El,” Father says simply, reading triangular words across the screen. Clark guiltily pulls his hands out of the screen.

“What is it?”

Father’s voice rumbles from his chest, his fingers never still on the keypad. “Weather results. I calculate the predicted weather for the next few weeks on the second of every calendar month.”

Clark peeks. That’s why he can’t read it that well, then: he doesn’t know any weather-words. “I thought that weather reading is super hard, and that you can’t tell what the weather is all that well?”

Father’s lips quirk upwards. His typing continues. “With inferior equipment, yes. With a little more experience and better tools, however, the accuracy improves significantly.”

Clark tells Eliza that a tornado is going to touch down at four on March 28th, since his Father told him so. Eliza, with her brown pigtails and hand-me-down play dress, puts her hands on her hips and calls him a liar.

Ma and Pa watch Father haul equipment out into the storm to take notes from their spot in the window, only for the shape to start funneling right before their eyes.

The tornado touches down at 4:00:23pm.

Eliza ends up owing Clark all her tooth fairy money—almost a full four dollars and seventy-five cents.

Ignoring my 15+ wips to invent new, worse wips is my passion. Don't look in my documents folder. Seriously. Do not.

[a1ecmcdowell]

coincidence — rafe cameron x pogue!reader!

part of the short n' sweet x obx collection, found here!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤincludes, pogue!reader. cheating. sad!rafe :(. i promise i love sofia.

❛ what a surprise - your phone died, and your car drove itself from l.a. to between her thighs! ❜

you and rafe were a bit tumultuous. he loved you in private, and he loved you so much that it sometimes ached, like the sweetest form of violence. 

but in public, he could never manage to switch off the part of his brain that rejected every pogue he came across like he did when you two were alone. it was like he was more concerned about what his friends thought of him and his relationship than he did about your feelings. 

he was pulling back. you could see the signs of it in the ways he started having excuses to keep you from coming over, how his hand would subtly slip from yours when you were out together. 

and you couldn’t just pick apart his brain and fix whatever the problem was, because he didn’t talk to you enough anymore to let you in. 

you didn’t know if you were even still together, but he wouldn’t just ghost you a year into your relationship. he couldn’t. 

you’d decided the night before that you were just going to show up and demand an answer from him. it would probably be a fight, you knew; but what could hurt more than being with someone that didn’t want you any longer? 

that next morning was cloudy gray and speckled with misty raindrops. it didn’t feel like a very good omen about what was coming, but it didn’t slow your footsteps up his porch.

your hand raises to knock on the door at the same moment that it pulls open, and out stumbles — a girl. short brown hair, pretty glossed lips, wearing nothing but a pink bikini top and denim shorts. 

and behind the open door, strong hand wrapped around the edge of it, is rafe. smiling at her like he hadn’t smiled at you in weeks. 

the smile falls the moment his eyes lift to you, and the girl apologizes as she dodges running into you, and it all feels like a big fucking slap in the face. 

he’d been the best part of your life for so long. this hope that you could be more than the cut. and all of this time, he was waiting for the moment that he could dump you back off on your side of outer banks.

“why didn’t you call?” he asks, like that’s the first thing anyone should say when they’re caught cheating. 

you can’t tell if you’re more angry or hurt. both emotions feel like a hot, heavy weight sat right on your sternum. “you don’t answer anymore.” 

“because i’m busy.” 

there’s no remorse in his eyes. actually, you can’t even tell if there is, because he’s looking away from you like he’s already cut you from the picture of his life. 

“what, screwing other girls?” you snap, your voice biting and raw. 

his jaw flexes, tongue pressing into his cheek. “it’s complicated.” 

“i don’t think it is, rafe.” you shake your head, your lips pressed into a tight line. “you were cheating, and you’re mad you’re caught.” 

“oh, you think it’s that simple, huh?” he takes a step closer, his frame taking up the entirety of the doorway. “y’think overnight i just started thinking about wanting to fuck someone else?” 

you falter. no, he’s not going to get away with flipping this on its head and blaming you. making you apologize. 

“you can’t just blame me because you don’t want to take responsibility—” 

his fist slams against the wooden doorframe, and you flinch, because this really was going to be as volatile as you thought. you’d hoped that you were wrong, but you were right, and he was angry that you weren’t just some stupid little pogue he could manipulate. 

“i am taking responsibility. yeah, i fucked sofia,” he seethes through his clenched teeth, “yeah, i’ve been sneakin’ around, what the fuck else do you want to hear?” 

your arms wrap around your chest, and you have to resist the urge to stumble backwards. sofia, sofia, sofia. it plays in your head on a loop, the girl he deemed worth ruining what you had for. 

“why?” is all that you can manage to say. 

his eyes finally drop down to look at you. they’re so blue in the dawning sunrise that you wish, wish, things were different right now, so you could smooth the creases in the corners of his eyes. “m’not good for you.” 

“bullshit.” you spit it out before he’d even finished speaking. “if i thought that, i wouldn’t have stuck around as long as i have. i wouldn’t be sticking around now.” 

“you shouldn’t,” he says just as violently serious as the last, “i’m— i’m trying to push you away, sweetheart—” 

sweetheart. 

it shouldn’t affect you like it does, after how he’d just hurt you like this. but it does, of course it does, because you loved him like the sun loved the moon, and even when he was trying to break this, you’d always be in his orbit. 

“you can’t,” your voice is small as it leaves your lips, but your words aren’t, “i’m not goin’ anywhere. this is one good thing you can’t ruin. not on my watch.” 

he stares at you with that intense blue gaze of his for a long minute. the seconds tick by like hours while you wait for him to say anything. 

and he doesn’t — not with his words, anyway. his arms move from the doorway and encircle your waist, tugging you into a tight embrace. 

you’d known about how much he struggled with wanting acceptance, craving validation that he never got. you’d never expected him to be so used to rejection that he tried to cause it himself, just to be in that familiar place again. 

“m’sorry, sweetheart,” he whispers into your hair, pressing his lips to the crown of your head and leaving them there. “don’t deserve you. i don’t.” 

“you will, and you do,” you push, your fingers curling tightly against his spine. “when you go wash her perfume off of you.” 

his laugh cracks, but it’s a laugh, so you feel better about this. about him. about where he’s at in his head. “of course.” 

“and delete her number.” 

his hands raise to your face, framing it between his large palms. “already did it, baby. but you’re real cute when you’re jealous.”

[sammyluvr]

sweet smile — sam winchester

cw : fluff, gn!reader, detective!reader, transfem!sam, barely any dialogue, mentions of death/violence, not proofread, also definitely not my best writing but that's okay, no y/n, 1.9K words. requested !

summary : it's almost startling how quickly you develop a small crush on the most gorgeous fbi agent you've ever seen when she comes in to help solve your case.

on nearly any occasion, sam stays out of the local police stations during cases as much as she can. and usually, with her pantsuit and fake fbi badge, the police are as glad to see her go as she is to leave. but sitting next to you and your meticulously constructed evidence board, she doesn’t mind spending extra time here.

you’re the lead detective on this case, and sam finds you both sweet, cute, and clearly very intelligent. sam’s pretty sure that she and dean are dealing with a wraith this time around, but even without the knowledge of the supernatural, you’ve managed to compile an impressive amount of evidence and string it together in a way that actually makes sense. she thinks that this might be the first time that normal detective work might actually lead her and dean straight to the killer.

so, sam sent dean off to go check out one of the crime scenes while she stays here, listening intently as you carefully explain each and every detail of your evidence board. she can tell that you’ve gathered enough information to actually start seeking out suspects. of course, you’re still unable to fully explain the cause of death, but otherwise, sam can’t help but be highly impressed with your work.

not only does she get extra help in searching for official suspects—you’ve cleared her a spot on your desk across from your own seat and offered your help doing research—but she’s also blessed with the pleasant sight and sounds of you explaining everything to her. you’re rather endearing as you talk, and the blinds in the office are open wide, letting the mid-morning sunlight cast a bright line along your profile each time your head tilts to a certain angle.

she gives you a sweet smile when you're done explaining. any other day, with any other person, she’d give a kind, polite smile. there’s a difference. and, of course, you wouldn’t know that, but the smile sends your heart racing anyway.

“thank you, detective,” she says, sincere and unrushed. now that you’ve given her all the information that you have, she doesn’t need to stay any longer. but she wants to take you up on your offer. she wants to sit right across from you on your small desk and whatever excuse she can get to keep watching the way your fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt or hear your impassioned voice as you do everything you can to be sure that the victim’s families receive closure and justice.

“of croup se,” you smile back, hoping that you at least look like your composure remains intact. internally, you’re undeniably freaking out about how absolutely gorgeous she is. “thank you for making the trip over to help us out with this case. i really can’t help but feel like we’re missing something big. this cause of death is driving me crazy.” 

normally, you hate the feds. but she’s so pretty and sincere that you can’t do anything but love the fact that she’s here. and she smiles at you in the most lovely way that it makes your cheeks heat up.

“just doing our job,” she says. her smile isn’t quite as life-threatening this time—your heart only skips a beat or two—but she says those words like she’s less concerned about the job part than the part where she’s helping you out. from the way her partner acted early, it seems like they don’t really spend all that much time with the local police on cases. which means she’s staying longer than necessary, for one reason or another. and she says that she’s just doing her job when her job doesn’t require her to be here and looking at you like you’re the reason. it almost feels like she’s flirting. you might go into cardiac arrest if that’s the case.

you tell yourself that she’s too beautiful to be staying behind just for you. then she grabs the chair from you that you picked for her so that you don’t have to carry it any longer than necessary. and then when she sits across from you and her long legs keep brushing against yours in the cramped space, she looks up from her computer with a pretty, bashful smile and a sweet, murmured apology.

making eye contact with her is like that tiny, pleased, and slightly childish rush one gets when quickly running a finger through a candle’s flame. it’s simple, not some overwhelming surge of exhilarating adrenaline, but you find this to be just as effective in making you feel something for her. it’s softer, like the melting of wax and slight singe on a fingertip. it’s unwise to keep putting skin to flame, even for a split moment, but her gaze doesn’t burn, you just know it. it’s too kind and well-meaning, so you figure it isn’t fire, but something akin. some sort of warmth and light that couldn’t possibly do any harm. you’ll keep locking eyes with her because everything about her feels safe and pure.

her presence is a lovely contrast to the gore and death and confusion of this case. funny, she’s been thinking the same about you. neither of you are unused to violence or dead bodies, but a pretty face to ease the eyes never hurts.

it’s a bit hard to concentrate with her right there, but you make do. there’s enough motivation in being some sort of help to her. 

the shadows cast by the open blinds shift as the sun rises to its noontime peak in the sky. it’s one p.m. before you know it, then you’re hungry and most definitely distracted by her pretty face.

you softly shut your laptop to subtly grab her attention, your gaze already waiting for hers when she looks up. your lips quirk up into a light smile, tired of frowning at police records and endless files and reports. there must be something in the air today, because the moment you have her attention, you rest your chin on your palm and manage not to break eye contact as you speak.

“i’m hungry,” you say simply, “we should catch lunch and a break.”

sam feels guilty. you look at her with this soft sort of hope, as if it would make a difference in your day to spend more time with her. there’s not really any expectation along with that hope and sweetness, like even just being friendly with each other while she’s in town is perfectly nice enough for you.

but sam knows that being around her any more than that could never be good for you. you’re looking to her for a sense of reprieve within all this death and stress of the case. she understands; she’d love to have lunch with you, preferably somewhere outside the precinct so that it can feel a little more personal. it’s just that she’s convinced that she most certainly isn’t any sort of real respite. sure, she smiles at you when she thinks you’re being cute, but her presence here represents a worse, more violent, and darker truth about your case, about the world that she hopes you never come to know of.

and yet, the look in your eyes is enough to persuade her that lunch can’t do any harm.

“that sounds like a good idea,” she smiles. she should be allowed to push down that constant guilt every once and a while, right? she hopes you suggest eating somewhere else.

you have to keep your smile from growing too wide. you hope it’s not too much to suggest eating somewhere else. “there’s a great cafe down the street, as long as you’re okay with the city’s best sandwiches.”

sam thinks it’s quite adorable the way that you come across shy and forward all at once. you look bashful while you speak, but are playful and simple without stumbling over your words. it gives her confidence, lets her wonder if flirting with you would make your cheeks heat up.

“i definitely won’t say no to the city’s best sandwiches with the city’s best detective,” she says, closing her own laptop. it was a bit of a fight to maintain eye contact throughout the whole line; her felt confidence doesn’t really remedy her inherent awkwardness. but she made it through her little quip and indeed, she’s pretty sure that she’s succeeded in making you a bit flustered.

“you flatter me,” you refute after a moment, trying to sound cool, but laughing awkwardly. if you weren’t lost in her damn gorgeous eyes, you’d cringe at yourself. she just finds it endearing.

“i’m serious,” she says, and the way her voice turns all sincere proves just that, “you’ve done some really great detective work. half the time when we show up, the police have almost nothing to go off of. usually it’s not their fault, but most places i’ve seen would have been about ten times more clueless than you are.”

heat rises up your neck, but you can’t help but feel proud to hear it. she sounds far too sincere to just be flirting. “thank you,” you murmur, smiling softly.

she pulls on the brown knee-length overcoat that she wore when she first came in, and you’d probably start drooling over how good she looks in it if you stared a second longer. so you pull on your own jacket and walk into the crisp november air with her.

the walk is short, just across the street and a few businesses down to the right. even so, you think you’d like to keep walking with her, maybe do this sometime again. it feels like wishful thinking, but maybe you’ll have another chance before she goes. it’s startlingly easy to imagine holding her hand or sharing an umbrella or fixing her scarf. she’s not even wearing one, but you know she’d look all soft and cozy if she did.

in the cafe, she orders a coffee that sounds nice and a simple caprese sandwich. tomatoes aren’t really any good at this time of year, but when her eyes skim the menu, they skip over the options with meats and you wonder if she’s vegetarian or if she just prefers not to eat deli meats.

when you sit, you call her agent, and she says to just call her sam. it rolls off your tongue so nicely, makes your cheeks feel a little warm. you insist that, if that’s the case, she’d better call you by your first name as well. when she does, you nearly choke on your hot drink. if you weren’t aware of this little workplace crush on her, you’d think you’re beginning to develop a fever.

sitting and talking with her, sharing looks out the window to people watch or sharing looks to secretly think of how pretty the other is, and wasting time to avoid going back is all soft and sweet with her. considering your nerves, it’s much easier than expected, too.

unfortunately, you can’t dawdle forever. she walks back with you, but doesn’t sit. instead, she gathers her things and tells you with a regretful smile that she has to meet back up with her partner to continue on their end of the investigation. you don’t show it too much, smiling back and nodding in understanding, but you’re certainly sad to see her go.

maybe she’ll be back.

[tsupengu]

old art dump (afufubu themed)

[tonycries]

THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

Synopsis. Don’t worry, he knows exactly the solution when you’re upset - fúck it out of you, of course!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, FÉRAL GOJO, cheering you up, oraI (fem receiving), breéding, MAJOR overstím, PRAISE, THEY’RE SO DOWN BAD, lowkey sweet, slight exhíbitionism (Toji’s), mean Geto, síxty-nine, chokíng, making Choso cry mhm, spítting, pússy-slappíng, cúmplay, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. You’re loved n’ I hope y’all have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Noise complaint(s)

Any time Toji decided to visit you in your cute lil’ apartment, so did a few complaints from your neighbors. 

It wasn’t because of his intimidating presence, or those deadly glares of his - targeted at everyone but you, or even because of the way his large frame unapologetically blocked every doorway in your building.

No, they were noise complaints. 

“So that’s what’s got my girl so mm- upset?” Toji has the audacity to chuckle - chuckle - so raggedly at that syrupy pout of yours he’s kissing away. “Usually you and this sweet pussy-” He cups a palm at your glistening cunt, smearing your sweet, sweet juices in a glossy sheen down his wrist. “-are so happy to see me, n’ now you want to keep her quiet? All because some blue-balled loser just moved in next door and got jealous overhearing your pretty moans?”

At your nervous nod, he clicks his tongue gruffly, “Makin’ you all upset like this, tch-” Leaning down to whisper, until his sharp canines graze dangerously against your earlobe, “He’s about to find out that he hasn’t heard even half of it.”

“But Toji!” you’re squealing, fingers scrambling to clamp your already-deliriously sagging mouth shut. “I told you- we have to mmpf- be quiet. He seemed so grumpy, and-”

You’re being cut off with Toji nudging the divot of his fat head against your g-spot, until all those complaints are lodged in your quivering chest by a moan. Teasing, “Talking ‘bout another man when m’trynna make you feel better, doll? Bold today, aren’t ya?”

“N-no I was jus-” Barely-audible babbles drag out of you at the heavenly stretch of your pussy lips. Toji’s muscled chest heaves up and down at the way your pussy lips addictively swallow up his leaky cock, slobbering down, down, down his length till it glistened in the dim lighting. Your legs kicking up in the air when he insistently feeds your cunt inch by greedy inch. 

Again. And again and again and so needy. Depraved. 

But it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Aww, come on, woman.” He’s rolling his eyes, that tiny scar curling up in a devilish grin when he pries away the hand on your mouth. “Why’re you lyin’ to yourself like this? I know you wanna heh- scream my name as much as this cute cunt of yours is right now. Do it.”

As if to confirm his point, Toji’s pushing apart your puffy folds to let your gaping pussy squelch! even louder at each of his bullying thrusts. Tight ring of muscle taking each and every smack of his sharp hip bones so well, the riotous creaking of your bed following shortly, headboard just slamming into your poor wall despite being bolted onto it.

It was already so loud. 

“I don’t hngh-” you let out a feverish gasp when each roll of his hypnotic cadence gets too much. “I don’t wanna give off a b-bad impression…I just want the neighbors to like me.”

Heart clenching in his chest at how cute you are, how sorry your voice sounds, he finds his irritation flaring once again at whoever this bastard was that had you doubting yourself this way.

“Doll– they’d be fuckin’ stupid not to. And I’d beat their asses, too.” Two soft pads of his fingers come to smush your cheeks together, forcing you to stare up into his darkened emerald eyes. “But my poor baby’s still ngh- upset, no?” When you’re hesitant with your answer, they slide down to your neck - just barely putting a bit of leering pressure, “Answer me while m’still being nice, doll.”

It’s all you can do to choke out a shrill, “Yes.” He can feel your walls clenching around every ridge and prominent vein down his shaft so tight with every sultry, mewled-out word. “H-he was really sweet! But it made me- a bit- jus’ a bit.”

“See?” And Toji sounds so smug, predatory tone bleeding into the way his harsh rams pick up to an obscene speed. A thumb of his dips down to swivel over your neglected clit, wrenching out those candied moans he loves so much. “Nothin’ wrong with makin’ my girl feel better after a shitty experience. N’ if anyone has anything to s-say, they can come complain to hngh- me.”

“B-but-”

“Ah ah-” Toji kisses sloppily at your lips trying to press together and quieten, sucking on your lower lip. “What did I say just now? Loud, pretty girl.” 

And it’s like a dam breaks open right then and there, you’re arching your body off the bed like such a slut to press your bare tits against Toji’s pecs. Sensitive. Faster. “Toji- oh fuck, m’so-”

“Heh, louder. I don’t hear you losing your beautiful voice yet.”

Keening, “M’so close. Fuck- g-gonna cum all over your cock.”

He’s cupping his ear so mockingly, hips still stuttering and thrusting forwards without a moments’ faltering. “Still can’t hear you, m-ah not gonna let you cum if you’re not loud enough, y’know.”

You were sure your sinful noises were traveling through the heavy, plastered wall now. Picking up in pitch and speed with every double-attack on your sweet spots everywhere. Spearing the lewd curve of his dick into you, he’s fucking you into the mattress so mean - meaner that usual. Rugged muscles of his toned waist flexing when he jostles and thrusts unforgivingly. Your voice is hoarse at this point, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck Toji m’cumming. I’m-”

Every other loud moan is drowned out by the ringing in your ears, Toji’s own soft rasps filtering through the white-hot pleasure running down your spine. 

He’s fucking you through wave after wave of high, gifting your bruised g-spot with a thorough, sly pistons of his still-swollen cock. Something that didn’t bode well for you, you already knew. 

“Tha’s it. Yeahh, that’s it-” A hand cups the back of your head gently, even though his slamming staccato was anything but. “Loud. Jus’ like that- shit, gonna make him jealous. Have him regret makin’ my girl upset, fuck-” An irritated banging sounds from the other side of the wall right above your headboard - your neighbor. “Fuck, just watch I’ll give him a real show.” Still throwing jagged hips your way, ram after ram. “What’s the fucker’s name again?”

“He- he said his name was Shiu.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Sweet, sweet treat

“I can fix it.” your husband eyed that droopy bowl of frosting and back to your candied, icing-glossed pout. He can’t help but plant a sweet, sweltering kiss on them, just groaning out, “We can do it together.” Barely managing to break away and breathe out, “S’gonna- turn out- perfect, my love.”

Which is how you find yourself splayed out so shamefully on the cool granite countertops of your kitchen, your soft cotton dress only pulled lazily to the side. Nanami’s knees seated firmly on the hardwood floors, face tucked in between the heavenly sweet folds of your already soaked cunt. 

“Oh- oh fuck, Ken–” he makes you let out a honeyed drawl with every drag of his hot tongue up and down your soppingly wet slit. “Y-you’re gonna get the- ngh- counter dirty!”

So what? He thinks, and it only takes a flicker of surprise in your half-lidded eyes for him to realize he accidentally said that out loud. Not used to those uncharacteristically brash sentences, but Nanami was so drunk off your addictive juices right now. 

Tipping his head back, back, back to let them make their slow, sultry journey down his throat. He’s slurring out proudly, “I’ll clean the mess after I cheer up my upset lil’ wife, okay?”

With this, he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Adding to the glistening gloss that traveled down your folds - and Nanami couldn’t help himself but kiss at the mess he’s made. Over and over and-

“F-fuuuck, jus’ like that-” You’re keening when he’s alternating between hollowing his cheeks out with methodical, never-ending sucks on your sensitive clit and just peeking inside your needy hole with his tongue. “You’re too good with your hngh! -tongue, Ken–”

It’s impossible to run away - and he knew that, too. Every little inch you backed on the counter had him just dragging you back twice as much. Hot tongue clashing and angry to part your swollen pussy lips. 

You can only thread your fingers through his neat blond hair even tighter when he surges back forward. Pussydrunk. Groaning at the lewd smack of his tongue dipping in and out of your puffy folds, Thumb circling around your throbbing clit, “And you’re too sweet, darling. Even sweeter than-” He pools your slick on two thick fingers of his, coating a glossy sheen of obscenity all the way from his rounded tips to the gold wedding ring glinting in the dim light. Before popping them in his mouth to take such long, cleansing drags without even a shred of abashed hesitation, “-that icing of yours.”

“I know–” you’re babbling in disappointment, the full force of your failed attempts at baking something special earlier this evening hitting you once again at full force. “Ugh, what a waste. I can’t even-”

A syrupy beat passes. One. Two. 

And at that very moment, you’re feeling the maddening stretching of your gummy walls being forced to their very limits. Whirling your dazed gaze down to spot that Nanami was now standing, belt unbuckled, tugged down just enough that you were reeling from the pressure of his fat head just barely kissing past your fluttering hole. 

“That’s my wife you’re talkin’ about.” he growls, low and satiny. Hands steadying on the two sides of your trembling thighs, his grunts catch in his throat when he thoroughly sinks his swollen length in. Never-ending, dizzying. A quick frosting-coated glide of Nanami’s fingers on your lips, and he’s pressing another lingering kiss on your slack mouth. Tasting you and the sweet icing and you, “And I don’t let anyone talk about her that way, my love.”

Now, usually, Nanami was a man of patience - liking to prepare and play around with your pretty pussy as if you were his favorite toy. Molding your plush walls like clay to take his massive cock.

But now, oh now Nanami Kento was anything but patient. Shit, he didn’t even know if your snug walls could take him right now. 

Hands curling up into painful fists far away from the curve of your hips, as if he was trying to stop himself from just grabbing your quivering body and just slamming himself inside you until he reached your lungs, your heart, that stupid brain of yours that loved to overthink.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ say anything bad about my wife. You’re perfect.” he breathes, greedy hazel eyes looking like they could devour you whole. “The frosting is perfect, the anniversary cake is perfect, your smile, your mind, you-” You’re being attacked by a flurry of kisses being gifted on every inch of your face that could be reached, “You you you- I love you.”

If you were in the right state of mind, you’d have responded back in a heartbeat. But right now, he’s not waiting a split-second longer before bullying the rest of his swollen, filthy cock in. Solid inches being shoved inside to force your walls to accommodate, stretching out so maddeningly across every divot and upwards curve down his shaft.

In and out in and out in and-

Your nails tear across his favorite blue button-up, down his muscled shoulders, down to that speckled yellow tie you’d gotten him a few years ago. 

“You’re so- hngh-” you squeal, tugging Nanami closer by his tie. Making him bully past your narrow opening even deeper, slick walls squeezing so tight at how his weepy red tip presses right on top of your g-spot. 

He chuckles, it’s so endearing how you’re already too cockdrunk to speak. One engulfing hand on your shoulder is all it takes for you to be sprawled back on the cool counter. Nanami’s pummeling cock bullying so deep inside your hot core it’s the only thing you can think about - nothing but him. 

“How about, after-” Another dredge of sweet sweet frosting is dabbed along your lips, your heated skin. All for Nanami to lick sultrily, “-we’ll make the cake together, hm?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just use me, baby.”

Those shallow, sultry words are falling from Choso’s rosy lips before he even realizes it - ringing like sheer melodies over the heady smacking of skin-on-skin where he’s bullying his fat cock into you. 

After a few seconds of his sloppy, stuttering rams sending the gooey puddle of cum and slick spreading further and further on the sticky, silken sheets below you - the words finally register. 

“Use you, baby?” you purr, batting your lashes in a way that has him gulping. Feeling his aching shaft twitch against your gummy walls, swollen balls squeezing so so angrily with how much seed he’d been gushing out tonight. “You want me to use you?”

Each thrust of his is lingering, rolling forwards to push you further and further up that pooling mess. He can’t think, he can’t even breathe. And it takes everything in Choso to groan out, “Yes yes- fuck, please.” You’re feeling him place a trail of wet kisses up to the nape of your neck, big tears clinging to his dark lashes, “If my- hngh- if my girl is upset, I want her to use me. Ruin me till she forgets all about it.”

It only takes a split-second for you to immediately flip around your positions, pinning a whiny, pliant Choso so harshly down onto the plush mattress. 

“Hngh- oh, baby—” He bounces slightly at the sheer force. Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head at the slobbering sheen of cum dripping down his long, long length. Bucking up his quivering hips till you’re speared all the way down on his cock, clit hitting the tufts of black at his thick hilt. “Fuuuck—.” He’s groaning raggedly, like a mantra, two big arms tugging your body stuck to his sculpted front. Nodding half-lucidly, “Yeah- yeah just like that. Whatever you want with me.”

Your pace was unforgiving - barely even giving him a moment to spew out those pussydrunk promises before rocking your hips up and down up and-

“Use you, huh?” you echo back his own words, the sheer need dripping in them having Choso bow his body upwards to pummel into you in a matching feverish pace. You’re humming, thinking back to those stupid pick-up lines the creepy new manager at work had snided just today. It was harmless, but oh how Choso would kill him if he knew. “Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

With a pained keen, he’s surging upwards onto his elbows, craning his head to mesh your honeyed lips with his. “Mmm- mpfh yeah, exactly like this.” Mixing out such throaty groans with your gasps, so desperate to please you with the way he plants two feet on the bed, thrusting up hazily to find your sweet spots, “S’this any better? How do you- ngh how do you feel, baby?”

You’re letting out a drunken giggle with how he’s the one asking - when really it should be you. Because your sweet boyfriend looked so ruined, eyes wrecked with tears. Milky skin a canvas for possessive red marks from your nails. Kiss-bitten lips spit-glossed and permanently parted in ecstasy, only slacking further every time your snug channel dragged down him. 

“Much better, forgot about m’day already.” you’re hissing into his open mouth. “So fuckin’ gorgeous n’ mine, that bastard doesn’t know what the fuck he’s ah- talking about.”

Choso had no idea what you were talking about - though, he thinks his mind is too much of a hot, gooey mess to understand right now. Still so needy to please. Only being able to babble out a stupid, “Yours- fuck m’yours.”

And despite being the one setting the tempo, you can only let out such whiny groans at the sheer stretch Choso’s swollen cock is causing you. By the way he’s molding your gummy walls to each and every throbbing vein decorating down him.

“Sh-shit m’so close, baby.” he whines, a fresh wave of tears streaming down with each overstimulating smack! of his tight, overworked balls against the curve of your ass. Lazily, like he’s moving through molasses, Choso’s drawing messy patterns on your pulsing clit - not even circles, brain too fried to. “M’so close fuck- I need you to- I need-”

“Shhh shhh.” you coo, running a hand through his dark strands, damp with sweat. “Cum f’me, Cho~”

“Hngh!” He can’t stop his hips from bucking up ferally, crying out, “But- I can’t. Wan’ you to feel better. Need you to cum f’me. Use me-”

“Cho.”

“Please-”

“Choso.” you warn, narrowing your eyes, deciding to tease him a little with shallow, repetitive grinds of your hips up and down. Toes curling at the friction of his creamy seed sloshing around inside. “Cum.”

“Hngh- but-” he’s thrashing upwards, so addicted to the rough collision of your sensitive spots against his fat head. Pulling out such fucked-out moans from you already, “But m’spposed to be making you feel happy-”

Your fingers deftly find themselves on Choso’s temping throat, right above his racing pulse. You tighten your nails just enough to leave five matching crescents to match the rest of his marked-up body.

“Cho–” you puff in a sultry groan against his ear. “All I want is for you to fill me up right now.”

And then he’s spilling into you in thick, hot dredge after dredge of his potent seed - before you’ve even finished your sentence. It overfills your pre-painted cunt, that obscene white slopping out of your slit and onto where your hips rocked against your boyfriend’s even harder. A creamy white ring forming mouthwateringly. Relentlessly. 

“See?” Choso couldn’t - vision blurry, ears stuffed with cotton. “I don’t care what any sleazy manager has to say, you’re perfect for me.” A gentle kiss is placed on his pouty, worried lips and shit you still didn’t show any signs of slowing down, overstimulating him to tears. You trace his furious marks, “N’ pick me up from work tomorrow in your skimpiest muscle tee~”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Overtime?

A lewd smack! is all that’s ringing in your ears right now, so loud over the distant hum of the photocopier. Accompanied shortly by Geto’s sing-song rasp of, “Heh, missin’ our reservation for this- Are you the one havin’ a bad day or am I?”

Before you can answer, you’re being gifted with another mean kiss of your boyfriend’s palm against your bulging pussy. Smack! Lingering on the nudge of where he could feel your sloppy hole mending around his girthy shaft, before dancing upwards to grip your hair in a sultry hold. 

Pulling your entire weight up, up, up like he didn’t care about the way he was treating you like some ragdoll right now. Up to drag his lips towards your ear, “Doesn’t matter, because m’still fuckin’ you just the same.”

“S-Sugu–” your breaths crack with need when he’s pushing in a harsh thrust to slam back into the very bottom of your poor pussy. Eyes darting to the tiny window of your office photocopy room, “Sugu, we’re going to get caught.”

“And yet, she’s still hah- sucking me up as sluttily as ever.” he grins, tilting his head back to get those long, inky strands out of his face. He chuckles at the obscene sight of your cunt stretched to her limits, struggling, and drooling a sweet, sweet gloss down his length. “What’s with the ngh- attitude now? You said you wanted to feel better about working overtime so here we are.”

You bite down on your lower lip to hold back your moans when his fat tip draws a solid, straight line across your bruised cervix. Slamming forwards to have you scrambling forwards into some more important paperwork you really should be looking over right now. 

“I did but-”

“Problem solved then.” Geto lets out a low whistle, sounding so utterly smug when he pulls your hips deeper into his. “Now let me make this shitty workload hah- so much better for you, gorgeous.”

Honestly, when you told your dear boyfriend that you’d have to cancel tonight’s date because of a sudden deadline for tomorrow, you felt guilty. Working after everyone else had left, spewing out upset little apologies until he told you he’d come over to the office to “help you take your mind off of things.”

You just didn’t expect it’d end up like this. 

Smack!

Geto scoffs, “Aww documents have you zoning out on me again, pretty girl? Take a break, didn’t I tell ya you don’t have to worry about work and all those stupid things when you’re with me?”

Your knees weaken involuntarily when his gruff question is followed by such an unapologetic crash into your ravaged g-spot. Thankfully being held up by one of Geto’s strong arms to fuck yourself back all the way from his red, weepy tip to that see-through ring dredged up on his thick base. Somehow, you’re managing to gasp out, “N-no, I was just…”

“N-n-no, you were just zoning out, that’s what.” he’s mocking your answer in an overly-dramatic higher pitch, adding a few extra moans you were spilling with every harsh slam after slam of his hips. “What did I tell you now, relax. Let me fuck this shitty overtime and that shitty boss outta ya cute lil’ head, gorgeous. You and her-” His red-rimmed eyes, drunk on the feeling of your slicked walls enveloping him, lock on the sight of his curved dick disappearing so easily in and out of you. “-don’t have to worry about a thing right now.”

It was that same little promise - the one he’d whispered over and over into your sagging open mouth when he’d first ambushed you in the photocopy room. Bending you over the nearest flat surface before ramming into you all those thick, greedy inches of his long-needy cock.

And here he still was. 

Splatters of your syrupy slick coats his toned pelvis with every jagged thrust, fucking you so deep - so disrespectfully - into the office desk. Your feet don’t even touch the ground now, mind spinning and syrupy. Geto’s bending his own to angle up exactly to hit the bullseye of your sweet spots. All those familiarly mapped-out areas to drive anything and everything out of your mind but him and the temptation for more more more-

Click!

Both of you are raising your heads in sync at the distinct clamor of an opening door somewhere in the office - shit, was someone doing patrols at this time?

Your jaw drops open in shock - and the feeling of your boyfriend sliding two slender fingers to your pulsing clit. Drawing rough, skimming circles on the bundle of nerves. He has you jolting and arching your back right into him, his arms - exactly where he loved to have you. 

“Now we’re-” your words come in strangled little stutters, mindlessly bouncing your ass back onto his cock. Feeling the sinful tremors run down your spine with each slam, “-we’re really gonna get hah- caught. And I’m not even halfway through my project yet.”

And Geto - that smug bastard - sounds amused. He thinks he’ll have a ah- talk with your boss later about piling on workloads later. But for now, he sounds so fucking content when he’s musing, “Better cum fast before they give you more than overtime, pretty girl.” Before planting a deceivingly chaste peck on your lips, “Though, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to havin’ a cute lil’ housewife to spoil all day either.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - QUIET TIME!

“Oh, Kuna–”

“Now that’s music to my ears.” Sukuna smirks darkly, lips searing in a trail right down your arched spine. Two inhumanly large hands massage down your back, pulling you against his sculpted front. “So much better to hear you say m’name than complain about some fuckin’ eugh-” His tone trembles in distaste, “-office drama.”

Scoffing, “No need to be so mean, Kuna. You really should’ve heard what Mrs. Smith down at-”

That little tangent earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your bare ass, cupping the little tremors with a chuckle. He hums with a mocking lilt in his baritone voice, “You’re testing my patience~” Sukuna goes back to kneading at the stressed knots in your body. “Shut up and let me massage you, woman.”

And oh you should’ve learned your lesson - should’ve taken this rare, sweet little moment you’d gotten from your rough boyfriend. Should’ve done anything other than huff out, “Ugh, if only you’d heard what she said, ruined my whole-”

“Lift your hips.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden interruption, “Wh-what?”

“Lift your hips goddammit.”

It’s all you can do to mindlessly head his gruffed out words, legs stuttering and shaky when you get up on all fours. A gasp rips from your throat when Sukuna shuffles into the gap between your pliant body and the silken bedsheets. Not stopping until his hot breath was puffing against your sopping slit, your eyes mere inches away from his massive erection. Throbbing thickly and outlined with precum through his boxers. 

Your mouth waters, “K-Kuna what-”

“So it really takes this to get me back on your mind, huh, brat?” he’s cutting you off with another branding smack on your ass - this time, the very rounded tips of his thick fingers just grazing against your dripping folds. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ about some fuckin’ Mrs. Smith even when I’m right here.”

“Are you jealous?” you muse, brows turning upwards in confusion. “Because I can assure you-”

Before you can run your mouth again, Sukuna’s cutting you off with one hand reaching down to wrap around your throat. The other pulls your shaky hips down to sit on his face. 

“How’s this for jealous?” He grunts, an obscene slurping noise pouring into your hazy bedroom, eyes rolling to the back of his head at this messy kiss with your needy cunt. “Gonna make you forget about those shitty people. Just focus on me.”

You’re managing to wrangle your greedy gaze over your shoulder to spy his lewdly wet smirk, glistening down with a glossed cover of your slick. They’re so pretty, so kiss-bruised in your favorite shade of pink when they wrap around your throbbing cunt to give a harsh suck. “What? Got a problem, woman?”

You wine softly in protest, your lower lip jutting out in a pout that makes his clothed cock just coat down his fat tip with syrupy precum. Opening your mouth to retort and-

In all of two seconds, Sukuna’s hand snug around your throat drops down to tug on his boxers. Tall, angry erection hitting your parted lips with a soft thwack! It doesn’t stay there for long - no, because you feel that familiar pressure back on your throat again, and his achy cock being bullied down, down, down your throat. 

“Actually, don’t answer that.” he’s letting out a strained groan, sanity dancing away with every clench of your tight throat around his glistening shaft. Holding you still with the hand on your throat, Sukuna’s powerful thigh muscles strain when he’s fucking up into your heavenly mouth slow, sultry. Spitting to coat him in all your sweet saliva, “Consider this quiet time, just shut up and take my cock.”

Your eyes are watering, Sukuna’s girth rubbing against every part of your plushy mouth. Swirling a pool of salty precum on your tongue. You can’t do anything but keen brokenly around that warm weight when long, thick fingers are spreading your puffy folds to wrangle his long tongue in deeper. Textures of his tastebuds grazing over and over against your spongy entrance - your clit. 

“Hngh- mmpf-” you’re jutting your hips traitorously. Dragging your slobbering pussy up and down his thorough lips, giving longing, drunken licks up from your weepy base to your hot clit. “Kuna-”

He breaks away with a sinful smack! Your sensitive bud being tugged along with snapping strings of delicate precum and slick.

“Mhm, that’s what I like-” he’s slurring out words mixing together with need. Free hand coming down to toy your clit between two rolling fingers. And you could tell how much he liked this, fat shaft twitching animalistically inside your mouth. Nudging his leaking head at the back of your throat, it’s only with how long you’ve been with Sukuna that you manage not to gag. “-to have you shut up on my cock this way. That pretty mouth is better used for something other than rememberin’ some shitty people when you’re with me. They can fuck right off with the disrespect towards my woman.”

It’s all you can do to keep your jaw slacking further and further with every dragged-out smack of Sukuna’s heavy balls against your face. His hips using you like some glorified cocksleeve, ruthless in his pace. Molding your mouth to the shape of him while he does the very same with yours.

“F-fuuuck-” you manage to gasp out through the drooling edges of your lips. “It feels so- ngh–” Moans getting lost when Sukuna flicks your throbbing clit slowly, nudging with the very tip of his dark fingernails. “You’re being so-”

“So loud.” he finishes your own sentence for you. Grinning a grin that sends shivers up your spine, right to where he was stuffing your mouth shut with all long inches of his cock. Murmuring dangerously around your sloppy hole, “Interrupt quiet time again and you don’t get to cum, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Unmistakably depraved.

“Fuuuuck, sweetheart.” Gojo’s whispering, over and over. As if he can’t - won’t - manage to articulate anything else right now. The honeyed words wrenching out of him with each sticky crash of his shaft down your sloppy slit in this firm mating press. “Do you know how hngh- long I’ve missed this sweet cunt?”

You don’t have to answer, and the echoing smack! of his too-sensitive balls against the curve of your ass is enough of one for him. Making his eyes gleam with such a feral glint, traveling straight to where he was pressing in bullying little grinds past your clamping walls. 

It’s been so long - too long - about a whole week since your pussy-whipped boyfriend was able to have his fill of you.

A soft pad of his thumb rolls in a  languid circle over your needy clit. Sending white-hot shockwaves that have you jolting the balls of your feet to greedily swallow up even more throbbing inches of him. 

“Fuck, forgot how tight you s-squeeze me when I do that.” Gojo eyes dance to the back of his head with every bottom-out hit against your clingy mess of a cunt. Crashing so messily onto every velvety inch of your cunt. It only takes a few drags of your slobbering walls down his length for your dear boyfriend to run his mouth, “Forgot allll about this because of some- hngh- some mournng for a fucking fictional character-”

“My favorite character, Toru!” you exclaim, through furrowed brows. Both of you are shocked at the fact that you’re still managing to speak in coherent sentences - just means he hasn’t fucked you good enough yet, he muses with his syrupy, pussydrunk mind. “He was my- my favorite and he died and-”

You’re immediately being shut up by two sweet lips planting on your own, immediately moving to suck on your tongue so filthily. “Well, I’m your favorite boyfriend-” Your only, but semantics. Gojo whines - whines, “Shouldn’t I- hngh- be more important?”

As if to help you make your decision, he’s burrowing his cock in such needy thrusts. And Gojo can’t help but crane his neck to bite down on your frantically racing pulse, feeling himself salivate with how well you’re milking each and every single vexing ram of his hips. Just spearing the hotly saturated tip into your spongy g-spots, so fucking big that every stroke feels like a brush against your throat, an indent into the plush walls of your pussy, wrapping and molded around his girth. 

Another bite to your neck at your silence - sharp canines just shy of drawing blood. And you swear Gojo’s eyes spark with an unnatural lightning blue when he devours you with a greedy stare, “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“You a-are.” Is all you can gasp out, but that’s not enough for the great Gojo Satoru. You’re instantly earning a rosy pout and a loaded smack! right on the bullseye of your glistening clit, faintly you think you hear the crackle of jujutsu. Thighs burning at the sheer stretch of being folded down, down, down until your knees knocked against your tits. “You’re more- hah! Fuck fuck fuck don’t– you’re more important!”

This seems to soothe your jealous boyfriend a bit, but it still doesn’t stop him from placing such brutal thrusts on your poor, ravaged pussy. Bruising. Sloppy. 

You’re whining so brokenly, “Fuck, right there- feels too good- hngh!”

“Mhm, exactly what I thought.” Another explosive slap to your sensitive nub, humming with power, and Gojo throws his head back at how much it makes you gush so wetly around his thick hilt. “Now, was that- ngh- was that so hard?” Spitting out little profanities into your lips, as if the man he was jealous over wasn’t a few pixels, “The f-fucker- Had to wait a whole week before I got to comfort my sad girl? I’d kill him myself.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that - not even if you wanted to. Because with increasingly sloppy drags of his cock against your walls, Gojo only grows more and more heated. 

“Fuck- makin’ my girl so upset. Gonna fuck all thoughts outta him for ya.” Babbling out little curses a mile a minute, swift pace bruising your spring cervix, your g-spot. A thin trickle of drool trails messily in-between your clashing kisses, only growing every time he’s ramming into your gripping cunt. “Gonna make you cum- make you mine.” Difficult, even with how you were clinging onto his every rough, angled thrust, and you don’t think Gojo even realizes the possessive little spanks he’s repeatedly leaving on your puffy clit. “Won’t you cum like a good girl f’me, sweetheart?”

He’s moaning at the sloppy way you listen to his ragged plea, letting out such pretty moans into the heady air when you fall back into your high. Toes curling, jolts of needy pleasure running down your spine, such a mess. 

It makes Gojo falter in his tempo, it makes the sharp bones on his toned hips slam into you even harder, stuttering and rutting forwards like some animal in heat that can’t bear to do anything but be buried well inside you. It makes him cum. 

“Oh- fuck, Toru s’in so deep.” You mewl, too cockdrunk to say anything else. To feel anything but the slow, sultry filling of your quivering cunt. Rope after rope of his hot cum painting the mess of your branded walls inside, and each time he’s fucking his cum even deeper you feel a lewd whimper of his name leave you. Vision tinging with need, with the feeling of being so overfilled you could barely breathe. “Oh- oh my god I feel it coming-”

Your words hitch in your throat when Gojo - cock still angry and twitching with faint wisps of trickling cum - plugs a slender finger into your bulging cunt. Stopping the overflow, the grins, “Hope you’re on the pill, my girl, because we’re not done until you forget.”

A/N. Ouu y’all should’ve seen the way I was CACKLING writing Toji’s ending.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[lovelivision]

Satoru finding out reader has a praise kink🙏🙏🙏

₊⁺ જ⁀➴💌 and so it was done !! gojo and praise kink might kill me 🙂‍↕️ hope you like it lovely !! 💗💗

꒰꒰mdni // masterlist꒱꒱

Gojo is completely unfair when he discovers your praise kink in bed, his head tucked into your neck as he hammers into you, his moans and whimpers making your spine tingle. His hands everywhere on your body, pulling your face to his, lips interlocking hotly as he shoves his tongue in your mouth.

When he pulls back your lips are connected by a string of saliva, snapping as he licks at his lower lip, “You feel so good, sweetie,” he groans.

His hips stutter at how your pussy flutters around him, the small praise getting to you more than you think it should. Something he catches onto quickly, a breathless kind of chuckle leaving him at his realisation.

“You like being told how good you feel?” His voice is low, words tickling against your ear.

Turning your head away, you try asking for mercy, “Satoru–”

“–Don’t be so shy,” he almost singsongs at you, “You’re doing so good for me, taking it so well.”

You gasp at his words, hands pushing at his chest. It’s embarrassing how quickly he picked up on how he’s making you feel.

“So– fuck–so tight, gripping me like crazy,” he chokes on his moans, trying to talk to you at the same time.

He’s going crazy, your snug cunt sucking him back in every time he pulls back, pussy wet and drooling obscenely around him, slick coating his length so much that there’s a creamy, white ring at the base of his cock.

Your skin grows warmer at his earnest words, at how he moans for you, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he looks down between the two of you, to where he’s stuffing you full of his dick.

His eyes flick back to your face and it’s almost like he melts into a puddle for you all at once, a small whine leaving his lips before he has a chance to even think about stopping it. “You look really pretty,” he coos at you, large hand cradling your face.

The unexpected compliment has your pussy fluttering again, along with your heart, “I don’t think–”

“–I don’t think, I know,” his thumb pulls at your bottom lip before letting it go, “So beautiful while you let me fuck you full.”

His eyes are completely lost as he feeds you compliment after compliment, completely pussy drunk but still aware enough of what his praise does to keep spitting out nonsensical flattery. Words tripping over each other as his voice cracks with his moans and whimpers, the hand holding himself up gripping into the pillows behind you as he struggles to keep it together.

“Making the cutest faces– hnn– the cutest moans–” he intakes a sharp breath as you twitch around him, trailing off into a groan, “Don’t know how you feel so good, pussy divine– hah– fuck–”

The sounds of his pathetic moans and broken words have you dizzy, eyes hazy and wet as you struggle to focus in on his face. His own features wrecked, a lazy, blissed out smile on his face at how ruined and turned on he’s making you.

“Pretty little thing, look so hot when you’re close, sweetie.”

It’s entirely too much, his words pushing you over the edge, cumming all over his cock, coating him in your slick. Gojo doesn’t hold out much longer after, only really capable of a few more thrusts before he’s dumping his cum deep inside you, painting your walls white.

When he pulls out, he watches the way his cum dribbles from your cunt, his smile bright when he says, “You look pretty full of my cum.”

Proud of himself, even when you throw a pillow in his direction, because he now knows just how much you like when he compliments you and he’s never going to let you forget that.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing

You weren’t stupid.

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

And then you heard hers. No fucking way.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.

That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.

After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.

But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name.

Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.

Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long.

Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.

You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.

Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.

Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb

@rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2 @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols

@icaqttt

[patrophthia]

mini skirt | theodore nott

pairing: theodore nott x reader

wc: 3.5k

genre: smut (minors DNI), fluff, best friends to lovers, meddling blaise zabini just coz, they’re in love 🤢🤢, self indulgent im so sorry for the person i am

smut tags: dry humping, coming untouched, (very little) oral sex, come eating, unprotected sex (don’t do this!!), fingering, size kink, breeding kink, bulge kink, cream pie, so much dirty talk oml, big dick theo 😞, reader being shorter than theo, reader wearing a mini skirt, lots of cussing

summary: blaise zabini’s idea of how to play matchmaker might be different from the traditional way of doing it but at least you ended up getting dicked down, so you guess his method works too.

Blaise Zabini's idea of playing match maker is whispering to you —in a not so quiet way, that he'd heard 'Nott's got a big dick' and though you swatted him away. Face disgruntled, mumbling about how you did not want to know about your best friend's private parts. You're terrible enough of a person for your eyes to drop to his crotch when he sat down on the couch opposing yours.

There's a call of your name, once, twice. Before Theodore leaned forward, his voice loud enough for your eyes to tear itself from his thighs to his eyes. You gulped, hoping —hoping that he thought you'd blanked out and just happened to be staring at a very unfortunate spot. "Hmm?"

Theodore's held onto your gaze, lazying back onto his coach. "You okay? I asked if you wanted to head back up but you didn't answer."

"Head back up?" You repeated. "Head where?"

He eyes you suspiciously. "To your dorm?" Theodore gets up from his seat and leans down to crouch beneath you, staring up at you. "Or mine?"

You blink. Mind running in all kind of ideas —save for the ones you knew he meant when he asked you this question. You shift slightly in your side, scanning the Slytherin's common room as the party rage on; it's nothing too big, a get together between all seventh year supplied with alcohol —that Draco definitely did not buy just to impress the golden boy, not at all.

"I'm pretty sure I saw Draco take Harry up to your dorm, and neither of them look like they're exhibitionists." You say off handedly, looking down at him. "Besides, I'm actually enjoying myself here."

And to prove yourself, you get up from your seat; pulling your mini skirt low enough to cover your ass. Theodore, despite having every chance to peer underneath it, remains respectful as he plays with the hem of your skirt. "You are?"

"You aren't?" You ask back, trying not to squirm from the way his finger brushes against your thigh. Salazar this was your best friend for shit's sake, knowing that he could hypothetically have a big dick should not turn you on as much as it was.

Theodore shakes his head, slowly, almost as if he was in a haze as he quietly tells you. "Not really."

"Let's head up then," you tell him, and though both of your voices are low —barely even audible considering how loud Mattheo decided to play his music. Theodore was able to understand you perfectly, picking himself up as he used your waist as his guide. "Come on."

His pinkie finger catches onto yours as he gets onto his feet, him towering over you the slightest bit. And though, Theodore and you leaving a party early to turn in for the night was a sight your friends were used to by now —knowing that nothing ever did came out of leaving the two of you alone to your own devices. Something about how Theodore was looking at you makes them think that that might just change tonight.

But, they regress and bid the two of you goodnight with a few sporting playful frowns on how you never stay with them until the party actually ends.

You only smile, leading Theodore up the stairs to your dorm like every other night. Once in the comfort of your room, you sit yourself down on your bed, patting the spot for besides you for Theodore to take. He did as told, melting into your touch as you brush his hair back. "How much did you drink?"

His eyes are shut, face leaning into the palm of your hand as his own grips onto your skirt, tugging you closer to him. "Just those two shots we took when we first went down."

You hum, letting him pull you to him. "Did you smoke?" Theodore shakes his head slightly, before opening his eyes back up at you. You laugh lightly. "Then what's up with you tonight? I'm always the one dragging us back."

"Just tired, I guess." He murmurs.

"You guess?" You ask him, standing up —letting his hands fall where it'd been trailing up your skirt back to his lap, lingering slightly on what sits above it. "When are you ever not tired?"

Theodore laughs at your words, eyes crinkling as he did so. "When I watch you play quidditch," he says, pushing himself up to press his back against the head of your bed. Watching as you shuffle towards your wardrobe, picking out a pair of sweats along with two shirts he'd left at your room. "Or when you're drunk out of your mind and I'd to have to play pretend as your boyfriend and take care of you."

You snort at his words, picking out a pair of shorts for yourself. "You don't have to pretend to be my boyfriend to take care of me."

"Mhmm," he hums from his spot, lounging lazily as you walk up to his side, the change of clothes in hand. "But it's more affective that way." His hand finds its way to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "And I like it. I like pretending to be yours."

There's a split second where his eyes falters, looking at you almost nervously as he waits for you to respond. "You do?"

"Mhmm," he hums, pushing himself up to sit straight. "More than anything."

It's nauseating to see him look at you —eyes lacking their usual stoic and disinterest to instead be replaced by lust and adoration.

Without thinking twice, you leaned down meeting his lips halfway as your eyes flutters shut. And though seated, Theodore was still tall enough to kiss you back with ease. Letting you melt into the feeling of his soft lips moving slowly and desperately against yours.

"Fuck," Theodore mutters breathlessly, he pushes against your hand; dropping your (mostly his) clothes to the floor. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"What?" You giggle, letting him pull you onto his lap. "Kiss me?"

"To kiss you again," He murmurs, attaching his lips back onto yours; a soft whimper slipping out of his lips when his clothed cock brushes against your core through his swift movements.

Fuck, Blaise was not lying.

In between your legs, underneath beige slacks, Theo's giant cock ruts up to you. You gasp into his mouth. "Ah—" you try to catch your breath. "—fuck, Theo. You've been wanting to kiss me since we were thirteen?"

"Mhmm," he hums, long slender hands gripping onto your waist before he slides one underneath your shirt and lays it flat against your tummy. His free hand, resting on your thigh, guiding you down onto him. "You're the only girl I ever want to kiss."

It's silly, you know it is —especially when his cock was pressing into your cunt, only separated by a thin layer of clothing— and yet you can't help but smile up at him, almost giggling when you ask him. " 's that why you asked me to be your first kiss?"

"Mhmm." He's smiling when he kisses you. "Can you blame me?" His tongue licks at your top lips, quick and gentle, trying to gauge on what you tasted like. "Prettiest girl at Hogswart and she was willing to be my first kiss."

His hand moves grips onto your waist, his touch blazing hot. "... Flatterer," you say, a playful pout prominent on your lips.

He chuckles, pressing his lips back onto yours, hand moving from your thigh to tug at your shirt. When you nod, Theodore pulls away just enough for him to take your shirt off and toss it Salazar knows where.

He doesn't even try to hide his staring, canting his hips upwards as he held you down. "Can you feel that?" He asks breathlessly, almost whining as he humps against you. "Can you feel how hard you make me?"

You could only moan, nodding dumbly as you rolled your hips. "Fuck—" he says against your lips, "—how'd you get even prettier, baby?"

And despite how hot —how nauseating it is to feel his boner pressing onto your wet cunt, you can't help but giggle at his words, at how turned on he got just at the sight of your tits. "It's just boobs."

"It's your boobs." He hand goes up behind you, making quick work at the clasps before kissing your chest, licking at your nipples; his hips not halting in its movement. "So so pretty."

His hand slips down, going underneath your skirt to knees at you thigh. "Shirt—" you roll onto him, breathless each time you feel just how hard he was. "—shirt, Theo."

Though incoherent, Theodore still understood you enough to pull his shirt off of himself before attaching his lips back onto you. His tongue glides against yours, swallowing your moans up when he bucks particularly hard.

It’s humiliating how the simple act of humping, combined with Theo’s hand playing with your tits, pinching and rolling your nipple between his long fingers with his tongue exploring your mouth has you writhing on top of him.

"Theo, ah—" you whine, hands gripping onto his shoulders to steady yourself, a familiar warmth building in your stomach. "— wait, fuck!"

Theodore's hips coming to a halt, as he watch you cum on top of him —in awe, without him even having touched you. "Did you just… ?"

You whine, pressing your face against his bare shoulder to hide just how embarrass you were. Theodore pulls you back, looking at you with what you could only assume was love. "Did you just come, baby?"

You nod bashfully, hands going to cover your face just for him to pin both of them down. "So cute, so so pretty." He kisses you roughly, rutting up to you. "Gonna fuck you nice and full, how’s that sound?"

Theodore only frowns when you nod, always having been the talkative one in your relationship. “Words, baby. That sound good to you?”

“Ah!” Your panties stick to your cunt uncomfortably, feeling all too messy when he grinds his cock onto you. “Good,” you whine, “ ‘s good.”

Theodore smiles, pressing a quick kiss onto your lips as a reward. His hand trails down to your thighs, flipping your skirt up before groaning at the sight of his beige slacks soiled by your slick and cum. "Look at the mess you made, didn’t even have to touch you.”

Sliding your panties to the side, Theodore runs two fingers down your slit. "Even your cunt's pretty," he murmurs, bringing his finger up to his mouth to licks at your juices. "You taste even better."

You're pouting as you watch him play with your pussy, fingers pressed onto your clit, going back in for another taste before you finally move down his crotch, just enough for you to palm at his cock.

"Fuck—" he whimpers, hips bucking onto your hand.

Feeling proud you pulled such a reaction out of him, you reach for his belt, lifting yourself up off of him as he helps rid himself of his slacks. Pulling back his boxers, you will yourself not to drool over the sight of his long and thick cock, milky from the precum leaking from its tip.

Your hand moves on its own, wrapping around the base of his hard cock only to find that your hand was too small to wrap all the way around him. "Why didn't you tell me your dick was huge?."

"You want me to —fuck—" Theodore whines, cock twitching in your hand as it begged for you to move. "You want me to tell my best friend about the size of my cock?"

"Yeah?" You move your hands up, thumb running along his tip. "Biggest dick I've ever seen."

"You never told me you had —fuck, baby— never told me you had a perfect cunt either." Theodore moans, the sight in front of him feels like it came straight out of a porno. His best friend and her small hands playing with his cock, tits out with only her tiny skirt stopping him from fucking her into the mattress.

You giggle softly before leaning down to take him inside your mouth. "Fuck!" Theodore choked out, hips roughly thrusting into your mouth. He's too big for you to fit in entirely in your throat and he knows it. And he's too close to cumming in your mouth to keep you were you are.

His hand pulling your head up and away from his cock swiftly. His eyes are shut, head leaning back against your headboard as he breathes heavily.

Your eyes are teary when he opens his eyes back up, and he wills himself not to think about how it's the result of him fucking your face. Theodore brings you up to sit between his legs, kissing you desperately, groaning when he tastes himself on your lips.

Your hand goes back to grab at his length and he whines, pressing his face into your neck and squirms underneath your touch. "Wait, fuck—" his hand goes to stop you, brain going dead as you pumped his cock. "—fuck, fuck wait."

Theodore moves away from your touch, pressing your hand down onto your mattress as he heaves heavily. "Shit— Next time," he whines, "we can do all that next time," he murmurs against your neck, pulling his head away to look at you, he adds: "but I need to fuck you. Please, just let me fuck you. I'll do anything to feel your cunt and fill you up nice and full, please baby."

And when he pleads for you so nicely, who were you to deny him anything? He kisses you again, laying you down on your back, whispering soft thank you’s as he presses open mouth kisses down your body. Slender hands roaming around as he tries to map you out. It's only when Theodore flips your skirt up, ripping away your panties to give himself a full view of your throbbing pussy did you realize what he's about to do.

"Hey, I liked those!"

"I'll buy you more, baby." You're dripping in front of him and he think he might be losing his mind. "Need to eat you out first."

"Thought you wanted to fuck me," you whine, gasping softly when he slides his fingers over your pussy, "why can you play with —fuck."

You pout at him, not expecting him to slide his finger inside you while you talked. "Why can you— ah! —play with me when I can't play with you."

"Not playing baby, just stretching you out," he tells you with a soft smile, leaning over to kiss your pout away. "Not gonna fit unless we stretch you out."

" 's fine," you whimper, feeling him slip another finger in, fucking into you slowly. "it'll fit just fine."

"You sure?" He picks up his pace, long fingers reaching places your own never could. "Don't wanna hurt you."

" 's fine," you moan when he slips a third finger into your cunt, "don't care if it hurts, just wanna feel you."

Theodore pulls out, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you once more. Moving back up, Theodore grabs at a pillow, placing it beneath your lower back to elevate your cunt. Slowly, he guides his dick into you, gasping at the feeling of his thick head stretching you open.

"Fuck—" Theodore pushes in deeper, pausing when he feels you clenching impossibly tight around him "—your cunt's sucking me in so good."

The burn is delicious, his cock tearing you open from within, stretching you out to take him into you. "So full," you whine, pressing your head into your sheets as he slides in even deeper into you. " 's too much."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, rubbing slow circles onto your thighs, "just a little more, I know you can take it."

You whine pathetically, feeling him fuck the last few inches snuggly into you. "Ah!" He hasn't even moved and you're already breathless, feeling him in your stomach. “Fuck me, Theo. Fuck me nice and full.”

“You want me to fuck your small cunt nice and full?” Theodore pulls out entirely, leaving just his tip in your cunt before roughly thrusting back in, hands on your hips as he pounds into you. "I’ll fuck it nice and full for you, maybe even put a baby in you."

And when your pussy grips his cock at his words, Theodore drives into you even harder. “Put a baby in me, please.”

“Yeah? You want that?” He watches as your tits bounce with each harsh thrust. “You want to carry my baby? Have your pretty tits grow bigger? You want that?”

“Yes,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut, the pain of his cock splitting you open mixing with pleasure. “Yes, ah— want it.”

“Fuck—” Having just about enough, Theodore pushes your mini skirt up your stomach giving him a full view of how well he's fucking his thick cock into you. The mound of your pussy bulging as it makes room for his dick to spear into your cunt.

"See that baby? See how good your cunt’s at taking my cock?" He asks, his hand grabbing yours to press down below your navel. "See how good I'm fucking you?"

You can only moan, crying out his name when he presses your hand down onto the bulge in your stomach, pushing his own dick out of your pussy. "Feel how deep my cock is inside of you?"

“Gonna be so easy for me to breed you,” he murmurs, wrapping your legs around his waist to fuck himself even deeper into you. “Want me to breed you, baby? Hmm?”

You nod desperately, too cock drunk to speak. Jolting when Theodore presses a harsh finger to your clit, circling it as he fucked deeper into you. "Theo, I'm gonna—"

"I know baby," he says, his cock getting impossibly harder inside of you. He presses another finger onto your clit, rubbing tight circles as you squirm underneath him. "Fuck— you're pussy's so good. Need you to come on my cock."

Theodore leans down to kiss you, pushing his length even deeper into you. You moan into his mouth, fucking you through your orgasm, your legs trembling as you try to squeeze him in.

Theodore fucks your cum back into you harder and faster, chasing his own high. One quick glance at his cock coated with your cum, followed by the bulge in your tummy was sends has him rutting into your tight cunt, spilling his warm seed inside you.

Theodore thrusts a few more time just to savor the sight of you spread on his cock before finally pulling out of you. "Fuck Theo," you whined, his cum leaking out of you, making a mess all over your bedsheet. "Were you just never going to tell me your dick is huge?"

Theodore only smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss onto your forehead. "We're still on this?"

"You expect me to not be on this?" You say with a slight pout, Theodore only half paying attention to you as he grabbed a random shirt from the floor to wipe at you thighs. "It's almost like you don't even think of me as you best friend."

"Pretty sure best friends don't go around telling each other about how big their dick is, baby," he replies.

"Blaise can know about your dick size but I can't?" You murmur. "Talk about double standards."

Theodore pauses his movements, hand hovering over your spent pussy. "That fucker."

"Hmm?" You're curious now, confused as to why he was suddenly cursing out your friend. Never having been one to use curse words unless —well, unless he's fucking you.

"He told me that you liked guys who begged," he says with a slight front, going back to cleaning you up nonetheless.

"Is that why you begged to fuck me?"

"No, that was all me," he answers truthfully, ears tinging red in embarrassment,"just wanted to fuck you."

"And they say romance is dead," you say playfully before your eye zeroes into what's in Theodore's hand. "What about the whole breeding thing? And ‘s that my shirt?"

Theodore, freezes with his hands between your thighs, feeling you stare him down as he did so. Slowly, he unravels the shirt he'd use to wipe you clean only to realize that yes, that is your shirt.

"You ripped up my panties, messed up my skirt, tried to put a baby in me, and used my shirt to wipe up your cum," you say, frowning, "I'm never having sex with you again."

Theodore's quick to apologize, peppering your face with kisses, mumbling sorry over and over again. "I'll sneak you out of Oxford street, take my black card with you, how's that sound?"

— from bee: this is my first time writing smut be nice to me 😡

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

Girls will say things like “you’re not too much and I wish you wouldn’t try to make yourself smaller all the time” and expect u to be normal about it

[chelseeebe]

just a taste

18+. mdni. smut. kinda perv!eddie x fem!reader. he is a lil freaky in this i'll admit.

a/n: i just love the idea of the citrus six all living together lol idk i think it’s so nice also i have never watched cheers i just googled 1991 american tv shows and picked one at random LMAO ++ for the movie, i thought it’d be a nice lil easter egg for them to watch something with winona in:,)

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

eddie doesn’t know who you are or why you’re coming to visit or why exactly it was him that was being made to vacate his room for the two weeks that you were here. 

“c’mon eddie,” robin pleads, nay, demands, “you sleep on the couch most nights anyway, what’s the difference?” 

“uh, maybe because it’s my room? i don’t want some random girl in there touching my stuff,” almost flabbergasted that she’s even asking. 

“she’s not a random girl,” robin frowns, “she’s my friend and she needs somewhere to stay.” 

“tell her there’s a great hotel in town,” rolling his eyes, trying to leave the conversation before she breaks out the puppy dog eyes. "i'll even give her a ride if you ask nicely," no longer interested in entertaining this conversation.

“i’ll give you fifty bucks,” robin deadpans, using her last resort.

this was bribery of the highest order but eddie's not stupid. fifty bucks is fifty bucks.

“now?” 

she sighs, sliding her wallet from her pocket to reluctantly hand over the bill. she stops just before it touches his palm, “promise you’ll clean your room.” 

eddie goes to grab the paper but robin’s faster, jolting her hand into the air, “and change your sheets.” 

“okay,” he huffs, holding his palm outstretched. 

she graciously places the note down, smiling wickedly as she does so before skipping off back to her own room. 

he can only roll his eyes, turning around to the shit hole that was his room, wondering if fifty dollars was worth having to tackle it. 

-

eddie’s sat on the couch when you arrive, barely looking back as robin begins to fuss, talking loudly about your journey. he doesn’t really care enough to involve himself, besides, elvis presley had just given sam a very important message. 

“eddie,” robin hisses, standing in front of the screen, “don’t be rude, say hello,” her hands firmly on her hips like she was his mother or something. 

he looks up at the looming figure by the couch, hoping his eyes hadn’t given his immediate shock away too much. 

you flash him a sheepish smile back, waggling your fingers in a short wave. 

two weeks on the couch didn’t seem so bad now. 

not if you were sleeping in his bed. 

it’s just a shame that he wouldn’t be in there sharing it. 

“hey,” he stands, hoping to indiscreetly catch his breath, “i’m- uh, i’m eddie,” offering his hand out, though he regrets it as soon as it’s done. 

who shakes hands now? christ. he needed to get a grip, and badly. 

“hey,” you reply, your name dripping from your tongue. though you do shake his hand, not bothering to hide your confusion in the process. 

“eddie very kindly said you could have his room,” a bright, big sarcastic smile on her lips. 

“yeah.. no biggie..” christ, he’s almost panting. “do whatever you want in there.. or you know, just- just make yourself at home.” 

his desperate pleas for the earth to split open and swallow him whole go unanswered. instead, robin shoots him a concerned glare before ushering you away from his weird, longing gaze. 

'pull it together loser' she mouths before disappearing, leaving him to reflect upon how utterly hard he had just fumbled that entire situation. 

-

when everyone’s home from work and you’ve exchanged niceties and greetings with the rest of the house, robin brightly suggests a movie. 

eddie usually hated movie nights in the house. 

jonathan would want to watch some indie cult classic that no one else had ever heard of, steve wanted to watch some dumb comedy that only he’d find funny and then nancy and robin typically opted for the romance genre. 

leaving eddie and argyle with absolutely no choice but to sit in silence as they bickered. 

tonight it’s different, you get to pick. 

and now he’s not saying that whatever you choose will forever change the way he views you but.. well, that’s actually exactly it. 

you land on edward scissorhands. 

not the worst choice you could’ve made, and hey, his mom used to call him edward when he was in real bad trouble. 

in the end, it doesn’t really matter what you had picked because eddie can’t muster up enough energy to actually care about the film. not while your thighs are peeking out from underneath your oversized shirt. he can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like wrapped around his ears. what previous sounds would fall out of your mouth in response.

at some point during the movie, you stand up and walk out of the room to the kitchen but that doesn’t stop him. staring through the open door, marvelling at the way the hem of your shirt lifts, exposing the tiny shorts you had on underneath. 

he’s practically hanging over the back of the couch to get a look, craning his neck at a ninety degree angle just to get a glimpse of your soft, pillowy skin. pinching himself as he tries to resist the urge to just sink his teeth into your inner thigh.

robin jabs her elbow into his ribcage, drawing his eyes back to the room with a grunt and a harsh glare thrown her way. 

“you’ve been staring at her all night,” she whispers angrily into his ear, “stop it, or next time it’s your balls,” a harsh warning he didn’t find entirely necessary. 

you sidle back into the room, drink in hand and eddie can’t help but let his eyes wander over again, short glances that robin hopefully wouldn’t pick up on. 

he can’t help it, some magnetic force swaying his gaze in your direction. he wishes so badly that he could just crawl out of his head and tell you how much he wanted you. 

unfortunately for eddie, he’d instead spend the night dreaming of your ass and all the ways he could have you if he’d only grow a backbone. 

-

living alongside you is an entirely new feat eddie’s not sure he’ll survive. 

it’s torturous. 

testing the limits of how ridiculously horny one man can get without self-imploding. 

so close and yet so far. each night you’d tuck yourself into his bed, doing god knows what in between his sheets all without eddie getting a look in.

of course he’d made up a hundred different scenarios to fall asleep to each night. 

his favourite being the one where he walks into his bedroom to find you mouth open, legs apart, too encapsulated in your pleasure to notice him. only until you do, inviting him closer, between those supple thighs of yours, a forbidden nirvana he’ll never get to know. 

though more often than not he’s cruelly forced back into reality by robin ripping the curtains open at the ass crack of dawn, blaring sunlight on his face as you slip away from the grapples of his dream land. 

now is his opportunity, the house quiet, bar the muffled giggles of you and robin upstairs. he’s safe for now, he thinks, rather foolishly. it’s late, the rest of them asleep or too busy in their own rooms to catch him in the act. 

eddie’s never done anything like this before. it’s disgusting, perverted to the core. 

good grief, this is prosecutable behaviour. 

tiptoeing down the hall to his room, the door open just a crack, enticing him in further. he can still hear you on the floor above, giving him enough confidence to push it open a little more, edging inside with a quick glance back down the hall, just in case. 

gratefully it seemed that you were just as messy as he was, your clothes strewn across the floor. his eyes immediately turning to the peeking of lace from under the pile. glancing one last time at the cracked door, ensuring that absolutely nobody would see him. 

reaching down to gather the fabric in one quick swoop, bunching them in his palm as he lets out a quick sigh of relief. 

oh fuck. they were so soft, fingers spreading to really get a feel. he wasn't even going to take them, he'd just wanted a little look, something to help his overactive imagination get all the important details right.

“what are you doing?” startling him in this precarious position, the lace of your underwear entangled around his fingertips. 

eddie freezes, he can feel the heat rising through his chest, all the way up to the tips of his ears. scarlet red. 

“uh.. i..i-i don’t know..” he hasn’t done anything like this before, he swears. 

your mouth is open in a sort of half-smirk, half-perplexed gawp, closing the door before he could bolt. 

you move around the mess, creeping closer until he can feel you brushing against his side, peering over into his hand. 

“oh wow..” you remark, breath hot and sweet against his cheek, “what were you gonna do with those?” 

eddie feels sick, trying not to projectile vomit across his room. there’s no way you wouldn’t tell robin. fuck. he could hear you now, voice full of disgust, robin laughing at how pathetic he was. 

“n-nothing i swear..” stumbling through his sentence, “i was just..” excuses fail to come to mind, “i was uhm.. looking for something,” the absolute best his flustered mind to muster up. 

“oh really?” reaching around to untangle them from his hand, “you sure about that?” 

there’s no anger to your voice, but he doesn’t dare turn around to look at your face. afraid of what he’ll find. your eyes pitying, sad that he has to root around your dirty laundry to get off. 

“i’m- i’m sure,” though the crack in his voice gives him away. 

you hum, coming around to stand in front of his gormless face, “so you don’t wanna keep these?” holding the evidence up to his face, the hem just barely grazing his cheek. 

eddie’s knees almost buckle, his breath shuddering as any semblance of composure he had left, floats right out the window. 

“here,” reaching forward to tuck the baby blue fabric into the waistband of his sweatpants, your eyes never once leaving his as you do so. “you keep those.. but next time just ask, okay?” 

he nods like an obedient dog, lapping up the scraps you were throwing him. he could stand here all night long, keeping up the weird little power game you’d started. 

“goodnight eddie,” you smile, giving him a gentle nudge, a sign for him to get the fuck out. 

you were the master, he was just the lap dog, eager to please. 

-

at breakfast the next morning, he struggles to even keep his eyes open. having spent an embarrassingly long amount of time on the couch last night shamelessly sniffing the lace you’d gifted him. 

you don’t even acknowledge it, or him for that matter. happily chatting along with nancy about some news article. 

“oh and eddie,” robin begins, flashing him a stern look, “i don’t appreciate finding your fucking panties in between the couch cushions,” 

he chokes on his mouthful, his knife clattering against the table in shock. a multitude of eyes turn to stare at the spectacle he was making. 

“they’re- they’re not mine,” clearing his throat as he clears his name, though he doesn’t dare look in your direction, terrified that he’d absolutely lose his mind if he did. 

“well whoever’s they are, i don’t care, stop leaving them on the couch.. i’m sure our guest doesn’t want to sit amongst dirty underwear,” she bites, calming down now she had gotten her point across. 

if only she knew. 

eddie must’ve fallen asleep with them still attached to his hand, thanking his lucky stars that no one had walked in on him with them pressed to his nose.  

he keeps his head low, focusing on the plate in front of him. nothing had ever been as mortifying as this. not even the time he had slipped off the dinner table in the middle of the cafeteria. 

cutlery scrapes and clinks against the china, uncomfortable silence until argyle clears his throat, “gnarly meal robin, thanks dude,” seemingly settling the tense atmosphere, for now. 

everybody hums in agreement, getting back to their food without another word. but your eyes peek up, meeting his with an indescribable glint. and really, the worst part is that eddie would sit through this horrific situation a hundred more times, just for one more measly sniff at your panties. 

-

eddie can’t take it anymore. 

he’s never been so pent up in his entire life. and he’s tried to hold on until he could move back into his room but he couldn’t last any longer. 

but he’s careful, waiting for everyone to trundle on off to bed, listening carefully for the muted click of the light switch and even then, waiting another hour to be sure. 

the clock glares an alarming 1:04 by the time his belt clinks and his jeans come down, the first of them would be awake in just a few hours, ready to take you on to the airport. 

he wishes it would’ve played out differently, that he wouldn’t be sat here on the last night of your stay alone. but alas, eddie’s never been particularly brave and especially not in regards to hot women. 

your panties wrapped around his right hand as he spits on his left, wrapping around his stiff cock while his fingertips play with the lace in his other hand. 

“ohh fuck,” he hisses, wanting nothing more than to start hollering the house down. 

robin wouldn’t be too pleased if she ever found out what he’d done. and he can’t really afford to get the entire couch dry-cleaned so he really must be careful. 

thinking quick, he shoves his t-shirt into his mouth, muffling the chorus of grunts and groans threatening to spill over into the dark room. the muted light from the tv illuminates his face, breathing loudly through his nose 

he hadn’t heard the door open or the soft sound of your feet padding down the hall, only made aware of your presence when he reopens his eyes, near enough jumping out of his bones. 

how long had you been there watching him shudder and whine?

“fuck,” he exclaims, fist still wrapped tight around his throbbing cock, too aroused to care about it too much. 

“you want some help with that?” 

eddie looks at his dick, then back at you, mouth hung open in a mixture of awe and confusion. 

it’s not very clear but you move closer anyway, sinking to your knees and nestling in between his spread legs. 

“okay?” maintaining eye contact despite how difficult it was, eyes bright and eager. 

he nods, unable to comprehend what was happening. knowing he’d wake up from this twisted dream to some soggy boxers and a whole lotta shame. 

your palm wraps around the base of his cock, shooing his hands away to make room, smiling as your lips wrap around the already leaking tip. were you a psychopath? were you placed on this earth to goad and tease him?

this isn’t real. this isn’t real. the voice repeats around his head though it’s quickly silenced by your tongue swirling circles around the tip of his cock, readjusting his t-shirt to bite down harshly on the fabric. 

eddie’s hands lay useless on his thighs, twitching to intertwine with your hair, still doubting the reality of the situation. this could all be a dream and the second he touches your hair, you’d disappear from in front of his eyes.

the t-shirt falls from his lips, “fuuck,” grunting into the tense air, gritting his teeth so as to not expose your precarious position to the rest of the house. 

the wet sounds of your lips wrapped tight around his cock make his toes curl, his hands find your hair, not without prompting from you. tugging gently at the tendrils as his head starts to spin. 

when your eyes look up to meet his, eddie thinks he might just cum right down your throat then and there. he can see that troublesome glint in your eye, a roaring fire that he so desperately wants to keep stoking. 

your fingers slide up his thigh, finding his neglected balls and with a slight smirk, you grab ahold, gently fondling them as his brain melts out of his ears. 

no one had ever, ever made him feel so good. collectively losing brain cells when you hum on his cock, getting just as much out of this as he was. 

“oh yeah, fuck- shit fuck, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming,” eddie’s mouth rushes, louder than he ever should’ve been. bright flashes of light fill his peripheral, using your scalp as leverage to keep himself on the couch. 

his hips stutter, thrusting into your mouth with his fingers tight in your hair, yanking harshly in an effort to get your lips off of him before he came everywhere. 

you don’t budge, nails digging into his thigh as his release seeps down your throat, his eyes squeezing shut as his fist instinctively comes up to muffle his mouth, moaning into his clammy palm instead of alerting the entire house. 

eddie’s other hand lets go of his strong hold on your hair, allowing you to get off of his dick, panting happily as you sit up between his knees and with lips glistening with his release, you kiss him. all soft and gentle while his brain fails to compute. 

it should be gross. but eddie just can’t find it in himself to care, because in reality, this was the hottest thing that had ever happened in his measly little life. 

“please let me taste you,” he begs between kisses, grasping desperately at your waist, the fabric of your shirt slipping between his desperate fingers.

you giggle, pulling back to look at him through the dimmed light, “not now,” you hover just above, constantly teasing and unobtainable

“well when?" jutting his bottom lip out in hopes it'd convince you to change your mind.

"when i'm back," letting him down gently. eddie'd count the seconds till you came back if that was what it took to get even a tiny glimpse of your pussy.

“what time do you leave?” he pants, chasing your lips. eddie was nothing if not a chancer, though if it hadn't happened already, there's a miniscule chance of it happening now.

“seven,” whispering back, a hint of annoyance that this build up had only crescendoed now, just as you were about to leave. he'll blame robin for that, poking her nose in and trying to turn him off. it shouldn't have worked. he should've been braver.

“but it’s your turn,” an awful sadness and regret overcoming him. someone better, someone like steve, would've had you pinned to that couch by now, his head between your thighs and your slick dripping down his chin.  

“next time,” only repeating yourself, smiling coyly before you plant one last kiss to his longing lips before standing fully upright and disappearing back off to his room, leaving him reeling with a story nobody else would ever believe.

[luvmila444]

SWEET RELIEF - C.S

…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………

Chris sturniolo x fmreader

summary: Chris can’t help but get a bit worked up while on a tutoring study call with you, when you realise what he’s doing, you only pushing him further to the edge.

content warning: male masturbtion; dirty thoughts; praise kink

word count: 2.8k

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Chris was a little embarrassed with how fast he had picked up the phone call from you, not to mention the blush that had spread across his cheeks and his quickly paced heartbeat when he heard your sweet voice ring through the speakers. 

“Hey, Chris!” You smiled as you spread your small pile of assessments and study papers across your desk to get yourself prepared. This had been a regular thing on Wednesdays and Saturdays for the past two months. You guys would set up a phone call together as you would help him study as Chris was falling behind in class…a lot. You guys had to do it over the phone as both houses were always so busy due to Chris’s brothers and your family always occupying your living spaces, making it difficult to have privacy and quiet to help him focus and bring his grades up. Therefore, you resulted in two easy phone calls across the week, which Chris always enjoyed a little too much. 

Chris loved that you could never see him and what he was doing at the sound of your voice over the phone. The sweet ring of it through the speakers. The way you ramble so passionately about the work. Yeah… he definitely liked having the privacy of his room for these calls more then he’d like to admit. Although he can never help but imagine what you looked like, what you were doing. Fuck… he’s been on the call for no more than ten second and he’s already getting himself worked up. 

“Chris…?” He heard you voice agin. Fuck that voice. 

“Yeah... I’m here, hey y/n.” He couldn’t help the smile that rose onto his lips hearing hear giggle at his slow usual response. 

“Okay well glad you're here,” you say readying the paper you had recently got giving by your teacher, on to the top of the pill of books you had been working on, “why don’t you fine the paper that mr Hudson gave us today and we will work through that one today, yeah?” You say cutely but trying not to talk so fast so Chris could take in the information. 

“Yeah, yeah sure…” he buries his way through his overflowing piles of unfinished homework to find the paper that was given to him today by his teacher “why did he give us the paper today, anyway?” Chris huffs, flipping to the first page that you wanted to start working on. 

“I have no idea, it’s not like we don’t already get enough work given to us on Mondays and Fridays, but now on Wednesdays too? It’s getting a bit intense at this point!”

Chris hums in agreement, loving the way you get worked up about things. However, once you were done with your small rant, you let out a sign that was so quiet only the most observant person would notice it, lucky for you, Chris was that person. As you made the noise Chris felt a familiar warm feeling in his lower stomach, just imagining you making that noise in a very different scenario…

“Did you see jenny today?” You interrupted his quickly drifting dirty thought, referring to girl who passes every class, not using her smarts but her body instead, fucking her way to good grades. 

“No, why? What was she doing this time?” Chris asked slowly, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and suppress his dirty thought of you. 

“Woah I’m surprised you didn’t see her! She was practically pushing her tits out of her very tiny top to try and get out of this paper…. practically had all the guys drooling,” you huffed. You’d always been quite jealous of Jennifer. She could literally get any guy she wanted and could always get out of these stupid papers. It was irritating to people like you who tried their very hardest in their schoolwork and seem to go zero appreciation for it, when all jenny does is gossip, do her obnoxiously babyish laugh and pop a tit, therefore having the whole classroom wrapped around her finger. It was pathetic.

“Nah, guess i don’t really care that much about her,” Chris was very aware of Jenny’s usual inappropriate behaviour, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you all through that class. He was sat near the back of the class, so he had a good view of his surroundings and could easily see you sat a few rows in-front of him, at the perfect angle so her couple see you left side perfectly. Chris simply couldn’t understand how anyone could pay attention in that class knowing that you were in there, not jenny but you. 

Your short denim mini shirt that accentuated you ass and hips so perfectly and highlighting your legs. However, to keep yourself warmer and seem more modest, you through a knitted sweater over the top, making Chris’s eager to rip it off and see what you hid beneath the layers of warm wear. God, if there was nobody else in that classroom, he would not hesitate you lift you up on the desk and kiss up your legs to your perfect thighs and up your body. He would make sure to take perfect care of you, bring his lips underneath your sweater and bring his hand to you perfectly round and covered tits. 

Full, he could barely take it anymore. He could feel his harder member quickly growing underneath his get sweats, but he didn’t want to stop. No… he couldn’t stop himself.

“Huh, thats surprising, i could’ve sworn that the guys next to me literally had dribble on his chin, it was crazy.” You laughed. 

Fuck that laugh. Chris brought his hand up to his crotch and felt where he had grown harder just thinking of you. He began to palm himself, trying to relieve the growing soreness between his legs. 

"We should get started now." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I you barely understood what was going on it that class."

"Uh, yeah." Chris coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What did you want to start with?" 

You voice begins to drift into an explanation of what was said at the beginning of the class, only worded in a simpler way, yet Chris could barely take in any of this information. You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Chris furrows his own for an entirely different reason. 

He continues to palm his dick through his pants while your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants beneath his hand. Christ, i can’t actually be doing this right now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, quickly responding to what you were saying with a hum and an "ah, that makes makes more sense." 

Chris doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much breathier, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, teasingly licking at his cock, as your devious eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head. 

“So thats basically the first part,” you continued to explain, unaware and completely oblivious to Chris’s hand rubbing at himself on the other end of the line.  

He won’t do more. He can’t, this is just so wrong of him Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak, and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy. His breathing had grown heavier, but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions. 

“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask, feeling as if Chris wasn’t getting everything he needed out of your words. He had to spare a glance at his incomplete work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need. 

His cock was now rock hard, it was torturous. His mind began to glaze over with lustful thought of you “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching into the waistband of his sweats and briefs, pulling his cock, which was now leaking with drops of pre-cum and the tip was a bright rosy, red, much like his cheeks.

He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you edge him and make sure he’s extremely overstimulated as you milk him dry. Chris’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm. His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Chris becomes lost in your tone as his cock twitches. 

“Chris?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure. 

“Yeah?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling. 

“Are you…okay?” 

Your question makes him halt, much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”

“You sound… i don’t know, out of breath?” You say, behind the line trying to think of why.

“Really, you think?” He hums with a small smirk on his face enjoying the uncertainty in your tone and how innocent you mind must have been.  You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Chris’s lips. You had to be mistaken, as it had almost sounded like one full of pleasure that could have only been as a result of one thing... 

Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…

“Chris.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again.  

“What are you doing?” 

Chris curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying obviously. Being tutored s-so well... by you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s wanting to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm, attempting to stop himself from stuttering his words, but he just couldn’t help it. 

“You’re sure you’re good?” You asked unconvinced, as a small smirk rose to your lips.

“No. No, I’m all good, i swear.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly begun to stroke himself again, his cock angry. 

“Ah huh, yeah…okay,” you knew what you were going to do, this was going to be fun. “Did i tell you how good you looked today?”

Chris’s eyes opened, looking at his phone slightly trying to keep a steady pace of his raging cock but if you were going down this road of compliments, he probably wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.

“Uh, n-no,” he stutters pathetically, somehow unaware of the game you were playing. 

“Well, you did, your hair…wow. I could just run my hands through it! How do you always get it looking so soft?” You paused momentarily, hearing Chris’s surprised whimper. “Sorry thats kind of a goofy thing to say…sorry.” You were basically just teasing him now, the basic matters of the studying gone.

“I- no i don’t think its goofy. a-at all…” his words are broken up by that heaving panting.

“God. really? You’re so sweet chris…wow,” You hum, making Chris’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke. 

“R-really?” His eyelids began to feel heavy again, wanted nothing more but to see the darkness and use it as a canvas to paint his dirty images of you in his mind. 

“Yeah, i mean you’re the literal sweetest” you hum lightly, “you always make sure i havea seat in class, you listen to me when i speak and when i help you i study, you defend me in-front of your friends! You’re so sweet! Such a sweet, good boy for me” you were practically grinning at this point.

Chris could have sworn that your words could have sent him spiralling over the edge.“I a-am?” He asked, almost to clarify that this was real, that you were actually saying this to him.

“Well of course, and you’re always so busy as well, yet you always make time for me in your busy schedule. You must be stressed a lot of the time. I could always help you…relax sometime, relieve some of your…tension.” You had lowered your voice now in order to have a more seductive tone to your voice now.

Chris chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My tension…?”

“I mean, yeah… i could alway give you a massage, rub you down, you know I’ve been told I am very good at giving…massages.” It was becoming blatantly obvious what you were doing now but Chris must’ve been blinded and in a lustful haze because he still seemed to be completely oblivious to what you were doing. Continuously pumping his dick eagerly and chasing his release.

The thought of you sat on top of him, rubbing all down him in order to relax him was definitely doing the opposite effect and only working him up more. Fuck. He had almost come from the thought of you taking care of him. the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm.

“You’d do that for me?” Chris whined, only imaging what else you would do for him almost sent him over the edge.

“Of course, i would baby, you would tell me where it feels good before i drag my hands down your body…” Chris let out a pathetic whimper at not only the simple thought but at the nickname as well. Baby? Baby??! Oh, my lord he was going absolutely feral at this point, “however, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.” 

Chris moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?” 

“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be, okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable— “

“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.” 

You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear chris’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.” 

Chris nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?” 

“Yeah, is that okay?” 

“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release. 

“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making chris’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.” 

At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.” 

“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through chris’s body. 

“W—what?” 

“Come to my place, i know yours is always super hectic.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm. 

“Fuck…yeah that sounds good, i-if you’re happy then s-so am i…” he was no biting his own lip so hard he could’ve sworn he was drawing some blood. He now had his back so far arched up off of his bed and was practically fucking up into his own hand. 

“See, again, you are alway thinking…of me,” oh he was definitely thinking of you, thats for sure, “you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you. He watched as the white strings of cum coated and stained his dark shirt. 

“Fuck” he let out a relieved groan, now not even hiding the action that he had just did. 

“Maybe next time we study i should just jerk you off instead,”

Chris’s eyes widened at what you had said, before realising how blatantly obvious what he was doing was. You giggled once again hearing Chris’s heavy breathes, pleased to know that it was you who had pushed him over the edge. 

“Fuck, you can do whatever you want to me,” Chris let out with a deep breathe. 

Oh, you certainly would…

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/n : thank you so much for reading, this is literally my 3rd time trying to post this because I keep making mistakes 😭😭I really hope you enjoy and if there are any more mistakes pls lmk

ily my angels 💞 (especially @gamermattsgf)

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Doting

Tags: jjk men as dads, tooth-rotting fluff, comfort drabbles

Synopsis: How the JJK men treat you while pregnant (spoiler warning- they dote on you.)

An: This is my formal apology for writing Nanami angst on the “Baby’s first words” post 😔 it will never happen again (can we stop with the death threats now?)

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI

SATORU

Oh, your loving husband is all over you while you’re pregnant. He genuinely has such a cute fascination with all the changes your body is going through. He seriously thinks you’re so strong for carrying his heir.

He loves rubbing your bump. In fact, he will always be touching it in some form or fashion while you two are together. When he’s away on missions, he has you send him pictures and updates on your pregnancy as if anything major has changed in a couple of days.

You best believe he is ready to indulge you on your every craving, no matter how strange. It’s three a.m and you’re crying because you need that specific brand of chicken wings and a can of whip cream? He’s heading to the store immediately to fetch whatever you tell him to.

He genuinely worries about being a good dad. Many nights he lays his head on your bump and talks to you about how teaching didn’t come naturally to him. He wasn’t born knowing how to meet people where they’re at. He use to expect people to be able to meet him on his level. He worries that he may inadvertently put a lot of pressure on his kid, and that’s the last thing he wants due to how he was raised. He just wants his kid to be a kid.

He’s the best, most loving and compassionate dad to your baby, more than you could ever hope for. Even if teaching didn’t come to him naturally, being a father did.

SUGURU

He’s such a “sit down and let me do it for you” while you’re pregnant. He cooks, cleans, works, and tends to you completely throughout your pregnancy.

Suguru gets hyper fixated on your health during pregnancy. He only feeds you the yummiest and healthiest foods while you’re pregnant. He encourages for you to sit on the yoga ball and do (very) light exercises. He just wants the best for you and his baby.

Whenever I said he tends to you, I genuinely mean he tends to you. He’ll gently brush your hair at night time, rub your back when your belly is becoming heavy to carry around, serve your breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed, carries around emesis bags and breath mints for if you get morning sickness while you two are out.

This man is the king of enforcing your boundaries to people when they don’t listen. That really annoying family member that insists on being there for the birth even though you’ve already explained to them that you want this to be an experience for just you and Geto? Yeah, he’s made it very clear to them that they will not be at the birth if they want to be in your kid’s life.

He is absolutely not afraid to hurt feelings if it means his wife and future child are safe and cared for. He really don’t give a fuck who anyone else is. You and his child are first priority.

TOJI

Toji is definitely the type to express his love and devotion for you in other ways than the most conventional methods.

He is so incredibly gentle while you’re pregnant. He doesn’t rile you up as much or play fight with you anymore. He constantly reminds himself that you’re carrying another life inside you and that you have enough on your plate.

This man… whew does he love seeing you pregnant. Toji’s the type of man to feel so feral when he looks at you heavily pregnant with his kid.

He adores your body. He’ll rub lotion all over you and oils to help your skin accommodate to the stretch of carrying a kid. He massages your body and absolutely worships it while he’s rubbing the lotion and oil on you.

Your breasts are sore? He’ll gently massage them until they feel better. Your back hurts? He’d be the type to lift your bump up and take the weight off you for as long as you ask him to so you can feel relaxed for a few minutes.

And look this is probably TMI but like, if you got a clogged milk duct due to breastfeeding, Toji would unfortunately be the type of man to fix that issue with his mouth. i’m sorry but he would.

Final thing is, you better believe that he doesn’t allow anyone to get too close to you. He is so unbelievably protective over you while you’re pregnant. If he could, he’d lock you up at home to prevent anyone from getting close to you.

SUKUNA

On the outside, he acts very nonchalant and unbothered by your pregnancy. On the inside, he is constantly plagued by the thought that your body may not be able to carry his heir. The thought of losing you or his child haunts him.

He will secretly observe and take notes on your body and how it is changing. If he catches you expressing any sort of short windedness, he will immediately send you off to bed rest. Though, you’re usually able to convince him to take you off of it by the next day.

The only servant he trusts to tend to you is Uraume. No one else in his court is allowed to be anywhere near you unless he gives specific instructions. Still, he hates leaving you in the care of Uraume. He trusts them, but he wants to be the one to take care of you.

He loves holding your body close to him at night. All four arms are wrapped around you and holding you closely. Since he doesn’t need much sleep, he will stay awake rubbing on your tummy all night long. One time, he felt the baby moving in your stomach while you were asleep. He was so intrigued that he woke you up and told you to “make them do it again”.

Now, he will randomly approach you at any given time while you’re heavily pregnant and hold his hand out so he can feel his baby moving around inside of you. It soothes his worry.

During birth, Sukuna was a complete mess. The amount of blood lost during birth fucking terrified him. He was panicking and yelling at anyone to do something to save you, even while everyone was assuring him that you’re okay and this was natural.

After 9 long excruciating months of extreme worry and constant fear, he finally feels peace when he’s cradling a newborn in his arm and a sleeping wife in the other arm. All of his hard work to protect you paid off he thinks.

NANAMI

Oh, to be pregnant by the king of domestic love himself.

Nanami is the type of man to immediately start working on a nursery for you as soon as you reveal to him that you’re pregnant. He immediately changes the guest bedroom into a nursery that you design for your little baby.

He reads up on all the parenting books and articles. He’s constantly compiling things to either do or to not do during pregnancy and even while raising a kid.

Like Geto, he tends to your every need. He is a total house husband all while working 40 hours a week. When he’s at work, he is constantly calling and texting you to make sure that you’re okay and taking care of yourself, but let’s be fr he literally did everything for you before he even left for work (meal prepped for you, set out your clothes for you, put out all your self care items in case you want to bathe).

When you express concerns of your body getting bigger to him, he does everything in his power to show you that he loves and respects your body for creating life. He literally cherishes and worships your body for hours if you let him.

Like Toji, Nanami is protective over you. He constantly has an arm around you if you two are in public, and he watches everyone who dares to get close to you like a hawk. If he gets a bad vibe about anyone, he’s immediately stepping in front of you and taking over the conversation.

Nanami is the best partner to have during birth. His reading of articles during your pregnancy really paid off. He is supportive without being overbearing. He listens to your needs and tends to you without question. Constant praise and encouragement while you’re giving birth. The moment he gets to snuggle with you and the baby is the moment he realizes that he cultivated the life of his dreams. He has the family he always wanted.

[moonsgemini]

cherry wine - firefighter!rafe

* ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ₊˚ ⋅

summary: who knew career day would involve a hot sexy mustached firefighter wanting to take you on a date.

warnings: teacher!reader x firefighter!rafe, mutual pining, fluff, a little self doubt, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, talk of sex but no smut

an: that pic is how I picture firefighter!rafe, I don’t think I need to elaborate any more. title will make more sense in the second part, hope you all enjoy!! & yes this will be a part 2 of the date hehehe. I did not proof read this so my bad

masterlist - part two

* ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ₊˚ ⋅

This day could not end sooner. I had been the most chaotic day trying to consistently wrangle a bunch of nine year olds. It was the third grade’s career day at the school you taught at.

The day has been filled with moving from station to station and learning about new careers. Some were a little more interesting than others. It was hard to get the kids to leave the lizard wrangler but they didn’t care much for the optometrist.

Some of the lovely volunteers were kind enough to provide treats for the kids which only made their energy sky rocket. It was your first year teaching and even though you felt confident in your abilities to handle the kids you still tripped up a bit. A kid scraped his knee running from the hair stylist to the park ranger. You were a bit busy untangling a brush out another students hair to tell him not to run. It had been a lot.

Now it was nearing closer to the bell ringing and your weekend starting. You were definitely going to need a drink after today. Career day led up to the fire department coming and showing the kids every tool, button, and switch on their trucks. It would give you and your fellow teachers some time to relax as they all sat around the parking lot waiting for them to arrive.

“You survive today?” Martha asked as she stood next to you. The two of you started at this school together, both being first time teachers. That alone strengthened the immediate bond you had with the curly haired woman.

You let out a tired laugh, “Barely, you?”

She nodded, “Barely.”

You looked around briefly to make sure students weren’t listening to you two, “Winnie’s tonight?”

She grinned happily, “Thought you’d never ask. I could use a drink or ten.”

“Agreed.” You nodded.

That’s when you all spotted the two trucks approaching. The kids started to cheer and scream as they honked.

Martha leaned in to murmur, “At least we get to end the day with hot men with mustaches.”

That’s when it hit you. You hadn’t even thought about that all day. Now your hair was a mess and your light makeup all practically gone.

“I didn’t even think about that. I look like a mess,” You muttered.

“Oh please you look good. Even after wrangling twenty five children all day.”

You nudged her with a grin. The trucks parked in front of the students and the firefighters began filing out. The principal stood in front introducing them and what they were going to do.

Martha was right. Hot fireman indeed. There were six guys and they all began introducing themselves. You tried your hardest to pay attention to each one and watch your kids, but it was hard when one particular firefighter stood out.

He looked younger than the rest with his bleached hair and untrimmed mustache. His biceps bulged in his navy tee shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked so big and broad you wanted to melt. His eyes scanned the crowd as the guy next to him began introducing himself. That’s when his eyes passed you and did a double take. At least that’s what you hoped that was. He made eye contact with you and a small smirk began forming on his lips. Not looking away as your face began to heat up from his stare.

You looked away briefly as your nerves bubbled. When you looked back he was still looking at you and that smirk had gotten wider. Even when it was his turn to introduce himself he didn’t look away.

“Hi everyone I’m Rafe, I’ve been a firefighter for three years now. I also help train the new fire dogs to be able to help us out when we need them,” He finished giving the crowd a big smile. He finally looked away from you as he rubbed his mustache.

-

The presentation was supposed to be and hour but it somehow felt like five minutes. Probably because you couldn’t look away from someone in particular. He was just so handsome. The way his back muscles tightened and arms bulged as he picked things up had you feeling butterflies in places you didn’t know were possible.

This was not like you to get so dumbstruck by a man. You should know better that attractive fireman should not be trusted. But damn was he good to look at.

Rafe was grateful that he had decided to sign up to volunteer for career day at the schools. He liked seeing how excited kids got at their job so he was doing it solely for that. He didn’t expect to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. At first he thought the teachers were all going to be his mom’s age older, but nope. He had been very wrong.

As him and the guys went through their presentation he couldn’t help but glance over at her any chance he got.

Even the mom’s who arrived early to get a glimpse of them weren’t enough to distract him. Even after first setting his eyes on her he knew he was going to do everything in his power to talk to her.

-

The firefighters stayed until all the kids had been picked up so they didn’t get stuck in the after school traffic. Rafe was thankful they didn’t get a call either or else he would have missed his chance. He looked over to where you were waving goodbye to your last student of the day and saw his open window.

He pat Javier on the back leaving him to wind up the hose himself, “Be right back.”

He stood up with a furrowed brow, “Of course Cameron.” He muttered as he said the blonde stride over to the pretty teacher.

You were texting Martha as you began walking to your class to see if she was already at Winnies. She had gotten out earlier as all her students were picked up already. You didn’t notice the broad man that approached you.

“Hi, can I walk you back to your class?” You looked up slightly startled.

Were you hallucinating because of the heat? Why was this big tall handsome stranger talking to you? You looked around to see if he was talking to someone else.

“Me?” You pointed at yourself with a questioning look.

His smirk widened, “Yeah, it’s really dangerous out here to be walking alone.” He teased.

You laughed, “Right um yeah sure.”

“Lead the way,” He said as he put his hands in his pockets.

“Your guys presentation was really good, the kids loved it. I already know they’re not going to shut up about it next week,” You laughed brushing hair behind your ear. You felt like a teenager again with a crush.

He smiled, “Thanks. Hopefully inspired some future firefighters. I’ve been doing it for a couple years now, is this your first year teaching?”

You were surprised he even thought about that, “Yeah actually it is.”

“I knew I’d remember that face if I’d seen you before,” Rafe wasn’t one to hold back with his flirting. When he knew what he wanted he would do anything in his power to get it. His career choice definitely helps him out a bit.

You coughed a surprised laugh, “Oh I- uh this is me,” you stuttered out as you got to your classroom. You weren’t used to men being so forward. They usually danced around compliments like they wanted you to work for it before earning one.

He opened the door for you, “I’m Rafe by the way,” He held his big hand out for you to shake. He took your much smaller hand in his as you told him your name. The heat of having his attention never leaving your cheeks.

“Are you doing anything tonight? I’d love to see you outside of work,” He leaned against the door casually. As he folded his arms over his chest they looked even bigger. You’re surprised there’s no drool dripping down your chin.

“No uh well yes I am, I’m meeting my friend Martha. She was standing next to me during the assembly. We’re going to Winnie’s if you’d like to join. Or not it’s fine if you don’t and you changed your mind or something,” You cleared your throat as you finished rambling.

That smirk turning into a wide grin, “I’ll see you there. Maybe I’ll bring one of the guys with me.”

She nodded with a smile, “That’d be great, I’m sure Martha would appreciate that.”

“I’ll see you then,” He winked subtly and walked back out. That smug grin still on his face.

-

“You are the bestest friend I’ve ever had!” Martha exclaimed as you finished telling her about your conversation with the hot firefighter.

You laughed, “I didn’t even do anything, god he’s so hot I hope I don’t embarrass myself.” You looked back at the entrance to the bar to see if he was here yet.

“You won’t. He probably loves the whole cute young elementary teacher thing,” Marth said as she took a sip of her cocktail.

“I don’t wanna be that though. I want to be a hot sexy woman,” You sighed dramatically.

When you got to winnies you spent about 10 minutes in your car fixing your smudged makeup and messy hair. You really wished career day didn’t put you through the ringer. You even changed into a random top that was in the backseat because the tee shirt you were wearing wasn’t doing you justice.

It had been almost an hour and they still hadn’t shown up. You had begun to feel disappointed that maybe he was just all talk. Maybe he did that to every new teacher at the schools he went to. But to save yourself the self pity you thought maybe he got a call and had to work. That was the most reasonable explanation. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“They probably got busy. Saving lives or something,” Martha waved off as she finished her second drink. You were also currently on your second and your feet were feeling fuzzy so you were cutting yourself off. You’d probably end up going home after the buzz wore off.

You tried not to show how disappointment flowed through you, “Yeah probably. Guess it was too go-“ you cut yourself off as you saw the door open and a head of bleach blonde hair came through. Your eyes widened and look away quickly.

“Ohmygod he’s here,” you mumbled to Martha. He hasn’t seen you yet.

She smiled, “Is the friend hot?”

You looked over and that’s when you met his eye. Rafe was already looking at you. He smirked and began walking over with a guy to a similar build as him walked behind him.

“Yes and they’re coming,” You said quickly as you cleared your throat.

“Hello ladies,” Rafe smirked as he approached.

You smiled softly, “Hey,”

Rafe thought you were pretty before but now in this setting you looked unreal. He was so glad he signed up for career day.

“This is Josh,” He nodded towards the brunette next to him.

You smiled politely at him, “Hi Josh. I’m y/n and this is Martha,” You looked over at her, “Martha, Rafe.”

They greeted each other as the guys sat down. Having Rafe so close to you was making you a bit dizzy. The alcohol wasn’t helping that either.

“What are you drinking?” Rafe asked you nodding towards your drink.

“Oh I was having gin and pineapple juice but I think I’m done for the night,” You admitted sheepishly.

He smiled teasingly, “Well wish I could have made it earlier to actually have that drink with you.”

You thought about it for a minute, “I guess I could have one more with you. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“You sure about that? You’re okay with just straight tequila shots?”

Your eyes widened muttering, “Geez maybe you will be drinking alone.”

He laughed, “In that case I guess we’ll just have a beer?” He said more as a question wanting to make sure that was okay with you.

You pretended to think for a minute humming, “Hmmm fine with me. Except no IPA’s,” you said making a face

“Yes ma’am,” He nodded getting up from the high table.

Across from you Josh was getting Martha’s drink order and you could already tell he liked her. The way he leaned in as if he couldn’t hear her despite the bar not being loud yet. You looked over at the bar where Rafe stood waiting for a bartender. He looked so good leaning over the bar. The muscles of his back flexing under the navy shirt. You couldn’t be more grateful for career day.

-

Rafe was oh so screwed. He was liking this third grade teacher a little too much. He had never felt so attracted to someone. Not just physically. He loved how animated you were when you talked, always using your hands. The passion in your eyes when you spoke about your class was admirable.

It was a done deal that you weren’t going to just be a hook up. No way would Rafe think about letting you out of his grasp. You were so soft and sweet, he can already imagine just how sweet you taste.

He knew it wasn’t one sided either. He saw the way you watched him as he told childhood stories and how he became a firefighter. You didn’t look at him like some hero the way most women did but you looked at him like you were proud of him. It made this weird feeling in his chest bloom. But he loved that look in your eye.

Whatever dance you two had been playing the last hour was starting to wear him thin. He wanted to touch you. Not even in a sexual way but he wanted to tuck that piece of hair behind your ear or give your thigh a reassuring squeeze every time you thought you were rambling. Rafe wanted to hear you go on and on about everything.

Throughout the night your chairs had slowly started to scoot closer to each other. Then your arms started brushing each other. Even the small contact set his skin on fire. The need in his bones growing.

You would dare to move a muscle once your skin touched he was so warm and as you looked over his bicep was just beghing to be bitten. The alcohol was helping your brain wander to that place you only visited at night alone in your bed.

As was telling a story about his vacation in Italy your eyes couldn’t help but wander back over to those biceps that had you drooling when you first saw him. He had his arms crossed over the table. Muscles flexing as he picked up his beer bottle and took a sip. The way his neck moved as he swallowed had you clenching your thighs. You wondered what his skin would taste like. You also wanted to know what it’d feel like to be wrapped in those biceps as he held you up while pou-

“You good?” Rafe asked lowering his head to your gaze. A teasing smirk on his lips.

Your doe eyes looked up at him, “Uh huh.” Way to play it cool.

He chuckled, “What were you thinking about?” You hadn’t noticed that Martha and Josh had gotten up and walked over to the dart board across the bar. Now leaving the two of you alone. The bar had gotten more crowded now and

You shook your head fighting the heat creeping up your spine, “Nothing really.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in closer, “I bet we were thinking about the same thing.”

You swallowed hard trying to use as much of that liquid courage as possible, “Then tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll let you know if you’re right.”

He liked that playful look in your eye, “Well I was thinking about soft your thighs would feel on my cheeks.”

Your eyes widened. Maybe you really weren’t expecting him to be honest. But that truth had you fidget in your seat as that warm feeling in your stomach blossomed.

“I guess we were then,” You hum.

“Mhmm,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “And what should we do about that sweetheart?”

“I-I” And just like that you had lost your cool. This insanely attractive, funny, smart guy wanted to get into your pants. Hot guys with all those personality traits come once in a blue moon and you were fumbling.

He laughed raising a hand to your shoulder brushing your hair back. His fingertips grazing your exposed collarbone. The light touch making goosebumps rise on your skin. You wanted to lean into his touch but before you could he pulled away, “Let me take you out. Just you and me.”

“Really?” You were a bit dumbfounded. It’s not like you thought he was going to be a bad guy but a part of you had prepared for a one time hook up kind of guy. Which you didn’t mind at first because well it had been almost a year since anyone has met your needs. You weren’t going to turn down sex with a hot firefighter so you’re definitely not turning down a date with one. But you couldn’t help but be curious as to why.

He nodded, “Of course. You’re beautiful, sweet, funny, smart, passionate. I really could go on but I’ll save that for our date.”

You huffed out an amused laugh, “Okay yeah I’d love to go on a date. Assuming this doesn’t count?”

He shook his head with a frown, “I’d never do this for a first date, especially not for someone like you. I’ll treat you right y/n don’t you worry.”

That heat was back again, “You say this to all the women you meet at on career day?”

He smirked, “Just the ones I can’t stop thinking about. Which has only happened with you.”

His reassurances ignited something in you. The feeling of being wanted was something you hadn’t felt in a while and you really liked it. You really liked who was making you feel wanted.

“So how would you treat me Rafe?”

God. He loved the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. He wanted to hear you say it in so many scenarios. Specifically ones where you’re naked.

His knee bumped hers under the table, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six and show you exactly what I’d do.”