#i mean they did just move me to full time hours
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gothamrain · 7 hours ago
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THAT’S NOT A PART OF YOUR ASSIGNMENT
Dick Grayson x art student!reader || 1.6k words
Warnings: smut, naked cuddling, blow job, slight exhibitionism but not quite
Summary: You have an assignment for figure drawing and thankfully have a willing model (along with yourself). Time to take some reference photos. Unfortunately for one horny boy, this means he can’t move. lol poor guy.
a/n: goddd i’m a senior so i’ve spent a bajillion hours in figure by now oof. so here, let me indulge my fantasies. need me a muse like Dick Grayson… well, maybe it’s for the best, since this fic shows how i wouldnt be getting anything done with him around agdjhsajhfk
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“Hey, Dickie, can you come in here for a second?” you called and instantly you heard the sock feet of your fiancé come padding towards you.
“Do you need me for something, Baby?”
You were too distracted with the task at hand to pick up on his flirting, “Yeah, just come lay on the bed for a bit.”
“Oooh. Of course~” Dick grinned as he eyed the camera you were adjusting on its tripod before he flopped down onto the bed, “any particular pose?”
“Nah I’m just fixing it right now, you can do whatever as long as you stay on the bed,”
You had meant, like, maybe he could scroll on his phone while you worked. But he took that as ‘whatever sexy pose you want, Babe’ and began showing off his lithe body. Little distracting, but you were used to him enough to successfully ignore it. But damn, was it hard. Especially when he turned around so you could get a nice view of his ass.
“So, we shooting sex tapes or what?”
You rolled your eyes, “No, we’re not shooting sex tapes. I need references for a piece for Figure. We’re supposed to be focusing on the ways the human body will fit together, so we need at least two models,”
“Sound’s intimate,” he schmoozed.
You sighed, “Yeah, that’s why I thought I should just draw us. I like the intimacy of the way we fit together—“
“So we are making sex tapes,”
“No. We are going to just be cuddling, I'm not going up in front of my class to present an explicit piece of us fucking, thank you.”
“But we are going to be naked?”
You sighed even more dramatically this time, “Yes, Dick, we are going to be naked. I have to ‘show off the beauty of the human form’…”
He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively, you shook your head, “and I'll admit, I wanted it to be a little sensual, okay, but it's not like that,"
You went back to fiddling with the camera, ignoring his childish snickering. You positioned it perfectly, able to capture Dick's full body but not too much background with it. Hopefully cramming yourself in there too wont crop anything weird.
Humming to yourself, you grabbed the tiny remote for the tripod and tested it to make sure it was working. Doing so, you accidentally got a shot of Dick taking off his shirt. The way his stomach and chest were flexed as he lifted the shirt over his head was beautiful. Just what you wanted, art. You didn’t delete this test shot like you would’ve done on any other day. Don’t tell Dick.
“Little eager there, Babe?” you flirted.
He had already moved on to stripping off his sweatpants. As he threw the garment across the room you noticed he uh, had a little problem growing. Ah..
“The faster we get these pictures the faster I can convince you to “take a nap” before patrol tonight,” he slipped his boxers off as he talked to you.
“Uh. Yeah. Um,” you started unbuttoning your shirt, “Let’s get this done, yeah…”
Great, now you’re flustered. You’d think you’d learn your lesson by now, to not use your own boyfriend as a model. But he was so pretty, it was always so tempting. If you had your way, all you’d ever draw were portraits of Dick. If you did that, though, you’d quickly get known as “that kid who only draws local celebrity Dick Grayson” around your university, which would most likely get shortened to just “Dick Kid”, and you did not need that kind of bullying in your life right now. You’re a professional studio artist now, goddamnit.
You heard the springs of the bed as Dick laid back down, “So what were you thinking?”
“…” man what were you thinking again? Oh, “I wanted to start with a shot of us spooning. You know, how the legs fit together, how a face fits into the crook of a neck,”
He smiled, “Do I get to be the big spoon?”
“I guess,” you teased.
You took off your own pants and underwear and gave your hair a good finger comb through before laying down on the bed with Dick. He smirked as you cozied up to him. He placed his hand on your hip as he repositioned himself.
“So you want my leg like—”
“Uh huh,” you felt the heat of his bare body melting into yours. And his errection nestling into your ass. Geez…
“And my face—“
He nuzzled into the side of your neck, brushing against the sensitive artery there. Hoo boy, perhaps this is a bad idea. Dick hummed against your throat as he began peppering the area with light kisses.
Mmm, perhaps it’s a really good idea.
“Dick, pose,”
He stopped his onslaught on your neck for a moment, keeping still as you pressed the button on the remote to take a few shots.
“Thank you,” you shuffled over to check the photos, much to Dick’s disappointment at you leaving his embrace, “these are good, next pose,”
“What now,”
You adjusted the angle on the camera, “okay now sit up, on your knees,”
He did as you told him and you crawled back over.
“Uh, sorry, I promise I’m trying to keep professional thoughts right now,” he gestured to his now very prominent boner.
“That’s fine, Baby,” you snickered as you started straddling him, “they’re not gonna be able to see it. This one’s about how legs perfectly bracket a waist,”
“Hands?”
“On my chest, with your fingers in between the ribs,”
Dick was a little confused on what you meant there for a moment but he found it. You were right, his fingers did perfectly slot in between the bones of your ribcage.
Took everything in him to not start running his hands up and down your sides, feeling more of you beneath his fingertips. The gentle way your skin was always soft, no matter where he touched you drove him wild.
And it’s like you knew, the way you grinned and shook your head.
“Here,” you dipped your face towards him and he greedily took the kiss you offered.
It was just a chaste thing, when he tried to deepen it you pulled away. Dick had to fight back the whine in his throat.
“Forehead to mine pleas—“ he gingerly complied, “there we go,”
Dick’s eyelids were pressed tightly shut, but he heard the click of the shutter go off a few times. You then disentangled yourself from him to go check the photos. He missed you immediately, even though you were just right over there.
Damn. This was horrible. Torture. His punishment from the gods like Tantalus’s fruit. He’d rather clean the Batmobile with a toothbrush than have you naked in his lap and not be able to do anything about it.
Okay so maybe he was being a little overdramatic. Can you blame him, though? He can’t just hold his everything in his hands and not make love to them. It feels irreverent.
“Okay, last one”
Thank fucking god. He could feel his cock throbbing and it was starting to get painful.
“Come get close to the camera, this one doesn’t need to be fullbody,”
He crawled closer as you adjusted it once again, “what’s up with this one?”
“How hands were made to cup our curves. I’ll need you to hold my chin in your hands,”
Done. You don’t have to ask him twice. But damn, as you positioned yourself to how you wanted, was it hard to not just start kissing you.
He gazed lovingly at you as he gently played his part, holding you for the camera (and a bunch of students, apparently) to see. He hoped he was doing you justice in this, in all of these. Although, a part of him didn’t want them to be good, didn’t want other people to see how beautiful you could be for him. Your home was his own private little gallery with you as the star and maybe he didn’t want to share.
Gatekeeping art. Tsk…
The shutter clicked and flashed but you didn’t really care anymore. That was the last picture, after all, and Dick was looking at you like he was about to devour you.
And you were right, as he realized he had a greenlight and dove right in.
Dick wasted no time in shoving his tongue into your mouth this time, lapping at your molars. Two can play at that game, so you licked into his mouth as well, only for him to fight dirty running his tongue along the roof of your mouth in flicks. A shiver ran down your spine as Dick pulled your face, still cupped in his hands, further into his. He moaned with the action, and damn, he really was trying to devour you.
He continued his attack on your mouth, sliding his tongue along yours in the most delicious way. You felt the vibrations of another groan as you let your hands start to wander down his body. His trapeze artist tits pecs.. his grabbable hips… his very hard cock weeping precum onto your hand as you fisted it. He pulled out of your mouth with a jolt, panting for air.
“Please—“ he was cut off by a surprisingly high-pitched noise breaking out his throat as you went down, wasting no time in taking him into your mouth.
You took him as far as you could, the head hitting the back of your throat. You pressed your tongue flat into the underside of his cock, slowly dragging it along his tender shaft before pulling off of him again. He made a strangled noise as you looked up at him.
“What?” why’d you stop before you even started?
“Well look,” you placed your tongue back into the divet where his tip met his shaft, “it’s like my tongue was made to be there. Fits together perfectly,”
God, you were going to be the death of him.
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mikatenoh · 3 days ago
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This prompt spoke to me and my love for little Lily Evans. Just in time for her birthday too <3
*✿❀ ❀✿*
"This is your first potion?" The sound of her Professor's voice had Lily's head turning to look up as he approached.
"Yeah? Did I do it wrong?" She asks, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. She'd wanted nothing more than to make a good impression in their first practical lesson.
"No, it's- perfect. You got it perfect." Slughorn reaches out, filling a vial full of the potion she'd spent the last hour working on.
She relaxes at that, a genuine smile spreading across her face as it's held up for the rest of the class to see. A warm fuzzy feeling spreads through her as he compliments the colour and consistency.
She glances to her left when she feels a foot tap against her own, sitting up straight when she sees the proud look on Severus' face. "Told you you'd fit in, Lils." Her friend says to her, nodding his head.
It meant a lot to hear those words from him; that even after the looks the older Slytherin's gave him when they saw the pair together, he still wanted to be seen with her.
She knew he felt the same; that he worried every time he saw her interacting with Remus that the other boy's friends had finally gotten to her and she wouldn't want to know him anymore.
*✿❀ ❀✿*
When Lily reflected on her beginning at Hogwarts, it was those moments of her friendship with Severus that she focused on. Emotions that led to a wound she could never heal from. The person who had been so wholly in her corner for so many years had ended up being the first person that she ever grieved for. Not for Severus himself, but for their friendship that he'd thrown away.
She shouldn't mourn him. Losing Severus' friendship had helped her to grow closer to her fellow Gryffindors. If she'd remained friends with him, she never would have grown closer to the Marauders. Or James.
The boy in question was hunched over their shared cauldron, inhaling deeply at the vapors that rose off the mother of pearl surface. "Is this your first time making this potion?" He asks her curiously, lifting his head to meet her gaze.
"This one in particular? Yes." She replies, tilting her own head as they make eye contact. "Why, Potter, is it wrong?"
That pulls a laugh from James, a sound that brought back the fuzzy warm feelings from when Professor Slughorn had complimented her work. "Evans, I don't think you're capable of making anything other than a perfect potion." He tells her seriously. "Tell me how it smells to you?"
She shifts closer and leans in, inhaling deeply. "The Quidditch pitch when it first starts to rain..." She begins, closing her eyes as she inhales again. "Polished mahogany and..." She pauses, opening her eyes so she could meet his warm brown ones. "The transfiguration classroom."
Was that surprise colouring James' features? "Well then, Potter, your turn. What does it smell like to you?"
"To me?" He sits up a little straighter, his shoulders rolling back as he looks between her and the potion they'd been working on. "If you have to know..." James trails off, but makes no move to lean in toward the cauldron again; as if he has the scent already memorised.
"Of course I'd like to know. It'll help me gauge if I am correct. If it smells different for the both of us, that means we can bottle it up and be done." She points out to him, folding her arms over her chest as she holds his gaze. Waiting.
"Grass in the early morning; you know, when the dew just starts to settle on it? Freshly spun sugar quills and that dark corner of the library that's always open because no-one wants to study in it."
The way James' face was warming could almost be mistaken for embarrassment if one hadn't been privy to the way he'd been telling her for years that he loved her. And now? The proof was in the Amortentia.
She quiet for a beat, reaching for the vial to retrieve their sample to hand in for assessment. After levitating it up to Slughorn's desk, she clears her throat and looks up at James again. "Say, Potter, did you maybe want to go to the Three Broomsticks with me next Hogsmeade weekend?"
He laughs again, that noise still managing to make her feel things. "Evans, I thought you'd never ask."
"This is your first potion?"
"Yeah? Did I do it wrong?"
"No, it's— perfect. You got it perfect."
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00valentina-writes00 · 1 day ago
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Please i need Ambessa visiting Reader's apartment and seeing that she has a huge room dedicated to being her personal library, slightly the largest personal library Ambessa has seen in her life. Ambessa looking at Reader like "did you really read all that?" and Reader saying with a proud smile "yup, ma'am! And at least twice every book you see there". Thankssss :]
A War Room of a Different Kind
Warnings: None! Except for being a damn bookworm
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Ambessa Medarda was not easily impressed. She had conquered cities, commanded armies, and stood in halls where history itself had been decided. She had seen war rooms with towering maps and strategy tables carved from the finest stone, libraries filled with dusty tomes that whispered of bloodlines and power.
And yet—nothing quite prepared her for the sheer size of your personal library.
She stood in the doorway, hands on her hips, taking in the endless shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. The scent of aged paper and leather filled the air, a quiet, scholarly sort of authority lingering in every corner. There were books stacked neatly, books left open with annotations in the margins, books arranged by genre, subject, and—judging by the meticulous order—some personal system only you understood.
Ambessa let out a low hum, stepping further inside. The room was larger than some council chambers she had seen, filled with enough knowledge to fuel several lifetimes.
She turned to you, arching a sharp brow. “Did you really read all this?”
You grinned, standing a little taller as you clasped your hands behind your back. “Yup, ma’am! And at least twice every book you see there.”
For a long moment, Ambessa just stared at you. Not in disbelief, but in something bordering on… admiration.
Her dark eyes scanned the shelves again, fingers trailing idly over the spines of well-worn books, the touch almost reverent. “Twice,” she mused. “You read all of these twice?”
You nodded, unable to keep the smugness from your expression.
Ambessa huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “If only my generals had half your dedication.”
You shrugged. “Well, reading is a battlefield of its own.”
She smirked at that, finally turning her full attention back to you. There was something different in her gaze now—something considering, assessing. She had known you were sharp, but this? This was a weapon she had yet to see in its full force.
With slow, deliberate steps, she closed the distance between you, standing just close enough that the heat of her presence made your pulse tick up. “And what exactly,” she murmured, “does a woman with a mind like yours do with all this knowledge?”
Your smile widened. “Oh, you’ll find out soon enough.”
Ambessa chuckled, a low, knowing sound. She reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear before stepping past you, already plucking a book from the nearest shelf.
“Then by all means,” she said, flipping through the pages, “impress me.”
Ambessa Medarda did not idle. She did not waste time in places that did not serve her. And yet, here she was—settled into the worn leather chair in the corner of your personal library, one leg crossed over the other, a book in her hands.
It had been nearly an hour since she first sat down, flipping through pages with a quiet focus that was, quite frankly, surprising. You had expected her to make some teasing remark, maybe humor you for a moment before moving on. But no—Ambessa was still here, brow furrowed as she studied the text, utterly absorbed.
You leaned against the nearest bookshelf, arms crossed, a slow smile curling at your lips. “Didn’t peg you for a history reader.”
Ambessa didn’t glance up. “History is strategy,” she murmured. “Every war, every betrayal, every rise and fall—it’s all a lesson.”
You tilted your head, amused. “And what lesson are you learning from that book?”
She finally looked at you, dark eyes sharp with something unreadable. “That you may be the most dangerous woman I’ve met.”
You laughed at that, pushing off the shelf. “Oh? And here I thought you liked dangerous women.”
“I do.” Ambessa set the book down, resting her forearms on her knees as she watched you approach. “But this?” She gestured at the towering shelves around you. “This is another kind of battlefield entirely.”
You smiled, letting the compliment settle over you like armor. “Books are just another form of power, Ambessa.” You reached for the book she had been reading, skimming the page she had left off on. “But I’m guessing you already knew that.”
Ambessa’s gaze flickered over you, her expression thoughtful. Then, with the smooth ease of a woman who had spent her life commanding, she gestured for you to come closer. “Tell me,” she said, voice low, inviting, dangerous, “if you had to choose one book—one text to outthink me—what would it be?”
You smirked, plucking a different volume from the shelf. You turned it over in your hands before handing it to her, watching as she read the title.
Her lips twitched upward. “Clever girl.”
You met her gaze, stepping between her knees with a quiet confidence. “You said you wanted to be impressed,” you murmured. “Consider this my opening move.”
Ambessa chuckled, low and approving, fingers skimming the edge of the book before pulling you down, down, until you were settled onto her lap, caged by the sheer weight of her presence.
Ambessa was warm beneath you, the solid weight of her presence a reminder of the sheer power coiled beneath her composed exterior. She held the book in one hand, fingers lazily flipping through the pages, but her attention was entirely on you.
“You look awfully smug for someone who just handed me their best weapon,” she murmured, amusement curling at the edges of her voice.
You tilted your head, letting your fingers trail along the spine of another book on the nearby table. “A weapon is only as good as the person wielding it,” you mused. “And I highly doubt you’ll use that book the way I would.”
Ambessa hummed, resting her free hand against your hip, a touch that was neither possessive nor idle—just there, like an anchor. “Is that so?”
You smirked. “You’re a warlord, Ambessa. You read for battle, for conquest. I read to know people. Their fears, their desires, their mistakes. That’s why I’ve read all of these—twice.”
She exhaled a quiet laugh, setting the book aside. “You’re a dangerous little thing,” she mused, fingers tightening slightly at your hip. “You might be the only one in this city who could outmaneuver me.”
Your smirk deepened. “Might?”
Ambessa let out a low, appreciative hum, her eyes scanning your face as if recalculating some hidden equation. Then, without warning, she shifted, gripping your chin between her fingers and tilting your head just enough to hold your gaze captive.
“You want a war of minds, little wife?” she murmured, voice rich with challenge. “Fine. But know this—when I play, I play to win.”
You swallowed, your pulse betraying you even as you refused to look away. “Then I suppose,” you whispered, leaning in just enough that your breath brushed against her lips, “you’ll have to keep coming back.”
Ambessa’s smile was slow, knowing. “Oh, I intend to.”
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Lessons for first-time Audiodrama creators I learned making Lavender Evening Fog
Today marks the four year anniversary of the first full episode of @lavender-evening-fog-podcast. If you want to make audiodrama, here are some lessons that I learned along the way, that will make it easier for you. We went into it loving the audiodrama artform but not knowing a lot about it, so please learn from the experience we gained making the show over four seasons.
Cut the volume you plan to put out in half. And then maybe cut that in half. There are a few ways you can do this-- for example if you are planning on every other week, put out monthly episodes instead. Or maybe rather than doing a 12-episode season, you do a 6-episode season. Or maybe rather than doing 12 half hour episodes, do 12 fifteen minute episodes. One of these ways of reducing may make more sense for your story than the others, but the takeaway is the same--producing an audio drama is a lot of work, and if you have never done it before, it is likely more work than you expect. You can still tell your story, it might just take more time. "But Victoria," you say, "I am already being very pragmatic about this!" I believe you dear reader. When we started LEF we intentionally made the episodes monthly because we knew more frequently would be difficult. Yet the plan was to have two 12-episode seasons that would involve dropping an episode every month for two years without break. About six episodes in we realized that we would burn out if we did it that way. Fortunately, because of how we mapped the story, it was very easy to convert that to four six-episode seasons. This allowed us to take breaks while still having consistency in our release cadence, because that consistency is incredibly important, and it is easiest to sustain over time if you have a handle on the work.
Have as much as possible done before you develop a release schedule. This may be the exception to #1--if you have everything done, by all means, go forward with whatever schedule you like. But it is easier to have a season done and drop episodes than to be working on it up to your release day.
If you can't have everything done before you start thinking about a release schedule, at least have the writing done and polished. Sometimes, you will need to revise pretty heavily. Especially at the beginning when you are getting the voice right. Because writing and getting feedback can take awhile, you want to give time to think about it, try to have your scripts done if nothing else.
If you find yourself relying on some part of your story too heavily, try writing a scenario without it. At the end of Season 1, we introduced the idea of Nick voicing Billy, and by the Season 2 premiere, we felt comfortable recording more interactions (remember, this project started during peak Covid). I was so excited to write for more than just myself, so I wrote a bunch of Billy scenes that didn't move anything forward. Once it was pointed out that this was a problem, I decided to send Billy to a conference. That gave me an opportunity to reframe rather than relying on a narrative crutch. This resulted in the Anna-Georgina is sick episode, which I still think is one of my favorites.
Create frameworks that make writing easier. For example, we wrote the show in little fragments of Anna-Georgina's audiodairies. That made it so much easier to plan (we know we need 8-12ish segments per ep), to write (again, if I wasn't feeling like tacking a particular big of the plot, I could work on another), and to record (The Lucy letters and the long pieces of exposition were always recorded last)
Figure out your tech before you record your first episode. We didn't fully and I'm still kind of embarrassed. Like I'm proud of what we produced starting out, but I wish we (mostly me, Nick always knew what he was doing) had figured it out earlier.
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peapodbond · 2 days ago
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that was us part eight
aka fuck it friday
tagged by @leashybebes
skipping ahead a few parts because i can and i want to. aka 7x05 as seen through the lens of the former fiancee/current besties abbysaltommy text thread
abby texting, tommy texting, sal texting
so, how was the first date?
turns out evan is not out to anyone.
it was his first 'date with a dude', but he's an ally.
sounds like a train wreck. (sorry, abby)
that part was oddly okay? it was adorable.
his best friend showed up at the same restaurant on a date with his girlfriend. evan said that we were 'going to pick up hot chicks later'.
i ducked out of going to the movie and just went straight home after dinner.
sal, cue us up a grindr best of lineup.
wait, i want to know what tommy said about the hot chicks.
not proud of it but i made a closet joke. the friend's girlfriend is moving in so it wasn't out of nowhere. i don't think any of them caught it, actually. but it made me feel a little better.
that's my boy!
you're a menace, sal. at least it was on the first date, tommy? it could have been worse.
mm. this feels like a sign that i should take a break from dating.
as opposed to the absolute bevy of dates you've been on recently?
sal, don't be mean. when was the last time you went on a date?
all right you two, no infighting. as fun as it is to watch you argue, i'm here for some moral support.
we can do that. hey, at least you can use the helicopter rescue to land dudes.
helicopter rescue? what helicopter rescue?
it's not a big deal.
tommy flew into a fucking hurricane and found a capsized cruise ship.
oh my god. days like this i miss la. nothing like this ever happens in phoenix.
i'm lucky i didn't get fired, okay? and we are not doing a grindr lineup. one bad date is not going to get me back on the apps.
you get one week to mope and then we're going for drinks and you're flirting with someone at the bar.
that's not a bad plan, sal. i approve.
at what point do i get a say in this?
you don't.
you don't.
their text thread sits quiet for a few days and abby debates asking tommy for more details. between jordan and marcus he hasn't had much to smile about, and even though he'd only met evan two weeks ago, the way that he'd talked about him… she'd really thought that tommy's luck was about to turn around.
they're driving tess to tucson for a college tour when she finally has enough time to text tommy separately.
it was one bad date abby, i'm fine.
yeah, but you liked him. like, really liked him.
i've really liked a few guys. and i've survived. we didn't even know each other for a full month. he'll just be a great kiss and a fun evening and that's the end of it.
a great kiss, huh?
i already told you that.
let's talk once we're back from the college tour? it's been a while.
sure, but you're signing up for a party viewing of love, actually.
double feature with die hard?
…evan just texted me.
what did he say?
do you want me to go fight him.
he wants to meet for coffee.
you should do it!
hm. at least you get a free cup of coffee. he is buying, right?
sal. yes, he's buying. i really liked him, you know? up until the hot chicks it was the best date i'd been on in… a while.
definitely go, tommy. you haven't said you had the best anything in a long time. abby thinks the last time she heard tommy say something was the best he'd ever had it was when she still lived in la (but after they broke up). if it's not great, it's just coffee. it's only going to be an hour or so.
i feel like someone should play devil's advocate but abby's got a point.
sal, how about i text you if i need you to fake an emergency and leave?
no, don't approach this like it's going to go badly!
works for me. i've always got you on speed dial, buddy.
you can hide any pitchforks the two of you might have found.
so it went well?
the question is how well it went.
sal.
sal.
what? just because he's not out doesn't mean they couldn't have some fun.
he actually did come out? to his best friend and his sister. we're going to try again and go on another date.
where's he taking you?
better be somewhere fancy.
i am not telling either one of you where it is. one of the delucas would try and pop up to spy on us.
i'm in pheonix, you can tell me separately.
it would be gina. definitely. she's small and sneaky.
they're not even denying it. you can find out where we're going after he's actually out to everyone.
sal, don't ruin this for us.
what? i'm being supportive.
so where's the date?
i'm not telling you.
why not?
because you'll tell gina and gina will tell sal and someone's going to pop up like a demented jack in the box.
i resent that implication.
because it's true?
see if i watch another romcom with you, tommy kinard.
that's a dirty lie, abby clark. listen, if we survive the second date then maybe i'll tell you two snoops more about him.
i'll let gina know ;)
i always regret introducing you two.
me and gina or me and sal?
all three of you.
here's hoping date number two is better than date one.
your lips, god's ears, etc etc.
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mscryinglighting · 2 days ago
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hello, would you do an alex turner x musician reader? she's just as famous with a solid fanbase, and they get a lot of media attention and even called a power couple of some sort. yet behind closed doors they're like any ordinary couple that love each other the most and doesn't care about what other people say about them? basically lots of fluff. i hope this makes sense! <3
Between The Chords
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Alex Turner x musician!reader
Word count: 1.1K
a/n: Thank you sm for this request!
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
The paparazzi's camera flashes momentarily blind you as you exit the airport, arm in arm with Alex, you try to speed walk through attempting to reach the car in one piece, all while the shutterbugs yell things like:
“Do you think you’ll be up for a BRIT this year?
And
“Y/n, any thoughts on the criticism of your new single?”
“These paps seem tame enough, non invasive especially for LA’s standards.” You thought, though their relentless camera flashes were starting to turn your mild headache into a full on migraine. You were fairly new to the scene, your debut album having blown up a little over a year ago, Alex on the other hand was slightly more well versed in the music industry, maybe that was what drew you to him -his experience- he’s become sort of a lighthouse keeping you afloat among the madness.
After what felt like an eternity you finally reach the car. Alex, ever the gentleman, holds the car door open for you, once you’re in he climbs in next to you, his fingers naturally finding yours, intertwining them as the car eases forward.
“God, I have such a headache,” you groan, burying your face against his neck.
“Oh, me poor baby,” Alex teases, smirking. “Need some Aspirin?”
“Shuddup.” You grin despite yourself. It’s like his superpower—making you smile through anything.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
The hum of the engine and the faint rhythm of raindrops against the windshield make the drive almost peaceful. Alex’s thumb absentmindedly strokes the back of your hand, his warmth lulling you into a half-daze. Before you know it, the car slows to a stop outside your place.
“You alive, love?” Alex murmurs, squeezing your hand.
Barely. You just want to crawl into bed—but with him, of course.
Inside, the familiarity of home washes over you. Despite four months of touring, you both fall into your usual routine like no time has passed. Instead of unpacking like a responsible adult, you strip down and slip into a pair of Alex’s boxers and his hoodie—your real post-tour uniform—before heading downstairs.
Alex is already in the kitchen, and you watch him from the couch, your favorite spot for early morning and late-night admiration.
“Whatcha makin’?” you call, arms draped over the back of the couch. The open layout of your home—a design choice you hadn’t realized you’d love so much—means you get a perfect view of him moving around the kitchen, a bonus you fully take advantage of every time he makes breakfast shirtless.
Alex returns from the kitchen, a steaming mug in hand. “Doctor’s orders,” he jokes, handing it over with a lopsided grin. “Drink up before your headache gets worse.”
You take a sip, the warmth spreading through you. “When did you get your medical degree?”
“Oh, love, I’ve been a specialist in you for ages,” he quips, nudging you playfully.
“Stop it.” You blush bashfully, hiding your face in his chest.
He chuckles, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head before reaching behind the couch to pull out his guitar. “Mind if I play some tunes?”
“Now?” You raise a brow, amused. “You just survived an eight-hour flight, and you still have energy for this?”
“Yes, now while I still have my gorgeous muse beside me.” He starts to strum out a tune on his guitar, his fingers moving with practiced ease until he reaches the F Major, the one chord that always seems to trip him up.
You’re playing it wrong,” you say, watching him fumble with the chord.
“I am Alex Turner, y’know.” He says smugly while still trying to perfect the chord.
“Then act like it,” you tease, playfully nudging his shoulder. You set your mug down before briskly taking the guitar to show him how it's done. 
“Look,” you say, shifting closer, “put your index here, and your middle on this string—like this.” You guide his fingers into place, your hands lingering over his.
He looks up at you, his eyes glinting under the warm glow of the lamp. “What would I do without my genius of a girlfriend?”
Alex strums the chord again, this time getting it right transitioning into a melody. It’s slow, almost hypnotic, and then he starts singing—low and soft, just for you.
You rest your head against his shoulder, letting his voice wrap around you like a warm blanket.
“You falling asleep on me already?” Alex murmurs, his lips brushing against your hair.
“M’not,” you mumble, but your body betrays you, melting further into him.
He chuckles. “That’s what they all say before they start drooling on me hoodie.”
You swat at him weakly. “I do not drool.”
“Right. Just like I don’t mess up F Major.”
You groan, hiding your face against his chest. “I regret helping you.”
“No, you don’t.” His voice is warm, teasing. “And you love me.”
You huff, but your sleepy smile gives you away. “Yeah, yeah.”
Fame could be loud. But moments like this? This was what really mattered.
Speaking of fame, the airport paparazzi pictures have already been posted to social media, both your fandoms were going absolutely berserk over the images. Since Alex was a grandpa about social media you had to read out all the comments to him. Well maybe only the nice ones.
“Wanna hear what the internet has to say about us?”
He hums, strumming idly on his guitar. “Oh, go on then. What’s the verdict?”
You clear your throat and read dramatically, “‘Rock’s Most Stylish Couple Spotted in L.A.: Y/N Stuns in Casual Chic While Turner Keeps It Classic.'"You glance down at yourself—his hoodie and boxers, your hair still slightly messy from the flight. “Casual chic, huh?”
Alex looks over, eyes flicking lazily across your outfit. “Yeah, proper high fashion, that.”
You snort, scrolling down. “Oh, this one’s good—‘Alex Turner and Y/N Y/L/N prove once again they’re the definition of couple goals.’” 
Alex smirks but doesn’t look up from his guitar. “Ah, well, hate to break it to ‘em, but we’re actually a disaster behind closed doors.”
You roll your eyes, scrolling further until a tweet makes you burst into laughter. ‘Alex and Y/N are real-life couple goals. If they ever break up, love isn’t real.’
You turn to Alex, raising a brow. “No pressure or anything.”
Alex finally stops strumming and squints at your phone. “They’re putting that much faith in us?”
“Oh, absolutely,” you tease. “Apparently, we’re single-handedly holding the concept of love together.”
Alex sets his guitar aside and tugs you closer, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. “Well then, guess we’ve got no choice, love.”
You grin, leaning into him. “Guess not.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
a/n: Hope I did this amazing request justice! I had so much fun writing this, and I truly appreciate all the love and support. Also, part 2 of ‘The AM Effect’ is in the works—I can’t wait to share it with you all soon!
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kissingarthurclaus · 8 months ago
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What if I told you Barb is a he/him lesbian to me? What then?
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shatterthefragments · 16 days ago
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And she fucking needs to reschedule her appt. She always wants to do it together with someone. But no. Of course you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you never sleep at those hours anyway. Of course not.
And fine. We’ll reschedule bc what other choice is there. But. Yeah. “I’m sorry”
I gave up my weekend to cater to this bc otherwise I could’ve gone another day to get my new Covid vaccine. I could’ve booked for another time. I could’ve used this day to go in and borrow dad’s car so I could’ve gone to a waterfall or beach even though it’s freezing.
And now I’m probably going to have to give up next weekend - ASSUMING there’s appointments left for then. My last two day weekend before my semester starts and I split my days off. Which is fine. It’s my choice. But I was hoping to do some stuff on my own :(.
And she probably doesn’t. Fuck. I still need to take her for bloodwork (overdue) and picking up an updated will since the sis and I are adults now and it might be A Thing that it needed to be updated. And not to be like especially given their health and that they’ve both had Covid now. But. I worry. I’m not really in a position to be able to support the household even if we inherited and there aren’t taxes. But I’d have to hold it together. I’m older.
She won’t drive herself to go do these things.
(But I have to drive myself now if I can’t bus there).
And I get having anxiety. I am anxious too.
But for it to get so bad years and years ago that it severely affects your family AND your family has asked you to get help several times (on a regular basis too. Bc we’re not professionals and can’t really help you. Especially when you don’t even agree to come along and just sit in the car as I drive around) it’s frustrating. (How would we have turned out if you had actually sought help for your mental illness? And why do I just KNOW that you’ll blame yourself for our mental illness. That we have to hide any attempts to better our own so that you don’t blame yourself?)
Who could we have been if any of us had been diagnosed?
I shouldn’t have had to deal with that as a child. In elementary school. Especially when I was already suicidal on my own anyway.
And yes. I resent you.
“I bet you wish for a different mother”
Yeah. One that fucking tried a little bit harder to get help before it got this bad. Before having us preferably. One that when asked to get help - agrees. Even if we’d have to arrange and just get you in the car and escort you there.
One that even occasionally stuck to anything you say you’ll do.
When I couldn’t even rely on you as a child. An older child.
“At least I raised you to not do drugs or lie. Or drink soda.”
I never felt safe to tell the truth of course I lie to you sometimes. I’ve craved nothing more than the sweet release of oblivion sometimes. Painful violence with flavour isn’t fun.
And then now. You’re. Even now. You’re so judgemental. “You’re such a rebel now”
For what?! Getting tattoos?! That I’ve always wanted!!
I am frustrated.
You wonder why I try to go out of the house and do things?
I hate staying here. But where else am I going to have so much space? And not have to pay a formal rent?
Urges are there. But. Can’t. It never helped to hurt myself anywhere near as much I needed. And I have healing tattoo and touch up’s right now. Im ok though. I don’t. I don’t do it like that.
I need food is what I need but fuck I’m annoyed.
#vent#family#shattered fragments#honestly I slept like shit too. I passed out after dinner and woke up about midnight and then had to go back to bed#and convincing myself to get up to brush my teeth took until past two am#but I did sleep#tw#anxiety I guess.#just. lots of family shit#and it’s just. when you rely entirely on somebody else to take you to do things. please.#either admit you’re disabled and try to access the very few benefits that might be available to you#or get in the fucking car when I need you to#and I know it’s not that simple and that disability SUCKS here#but I work full time and go to school and have hobbies and things I like to do#so when I give you my options of when I’m free to help you get to things. for fucks sake I planned my week or month around it.#I’m not a caretaker by any means#but I feel like I have to be#real reason to find love/get married: moving out 😭#but then I’d just feel guilty for leaving. bc then who would help?#and I’d have to probably just drive back and do it all anyway#like hey. mum. you remember how burnt out you were caretaking for grandma? without any other job or school to do?#*you’re going to do that to me*#and I KNOW part of it is almost definitely that we’re nd. but FUCK.#and I’m so exhausted by having to always concede to you.#like we get it. but EVERY SINGLE TIME?#I have other stuff to do too. and you won’t taxi or drive yourself.#just. fuck.#but now I have less than an hour before I need to go for my own. and I need to reschedule hers before I do so she’s not a no show
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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 months ago
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also "textless" versions of these, wahooo
#corned beef#joe iconis christmas extravaganza#bsol#speaking of >:3 & >:3 third time's the >:3 in successfully slammed both up against the window of joe iconis's car (twitter @'d & Seen)#which is really just a :3 but whom among us (orchestra hit) is not a little impish with it#first year i did fanart like wouldn't it be fun if joe saw & liked this. second yr like Same plus it did happen last time#then also recency Fun Times bias sure but he did make it a frame in his End Of Year Good Times Celebration video like >:'3#yes i draw exactly what i wanna draw b/c it's some specific thing i enjoy that much so Yep that is the xmas show to me#so powerfully i was moved like ooh fun xmas villain wrole?? in '19 when i was paying attention & relieved of some bmc closure malaise#by the xmas show but obv Least aware / knowledgable lol. technically showed up in '18 around nov/dec but no chance Right then of tuning in#i mean i had the capacity but did not know it existed / even Less helpful preexisting context. anyway so by the time the show returns#& i've done research in between & gone my god i am i live laugh loving like Yeah i'll do more fanart & omg cyril & omg krampusfucking#able to ramp it up this year & like just thanks to Drawing Experience i'm better at forging ahead through thee process even when it's#extra ambitious like my god am i in over my head? well keep swimming for the surface like only several times going [aaa....] only to yknow#not be that tripped up anyway but still go [(celebrate) christmas!!! (with me)] & be like Do It For The Krampusfucking Gift#one post for another like lighting up my life joe just coming out like ''who wants clips. first up Full Cyril Fucks The Krampus number''#like jeez made that happen And passed it along....it's always the like epitome of my art like i make the specific often really niche stuff#i really respond to; does anyone else enjoy this? if yes; Wheeee; sometimes this is also ppl Behind the really niche shit i enjoy#like i truly hope you do get that kick out of it as i slam it up to the window; worth a Highlight Of Your Year or not#the power of [i do like to Draw the things i latch on to] + [internet] for you#really the bsol design even More an event in ''how did i even do this'' b/c even when planning to make it slightly easier like well#fewer figures; i'll use ink pen so i hone the lineart less than i would to precisely get [line weight mostly irrelevant] Line Geometry#yet still going ruh oh i'm honing for sure. but then like did Most of the lineart all in one night + all the coloring the next round#when i draw quite slowly / the Honing is virtually always an inextricable part of my process like i do Nothing in less than Hours#like i think even my freewheeling bsol sketches posted just this morning took me at Least an hour; judging by vids i played in the bg lol#not quite calibrated to have Attuned Confidence In My Ability To Forge Ahead thusly like oh no if i don't have Momentum or it doesn't#happen to be one of those times things just spontaneously come out great right off without more honing / consideration we're fucked....#not actually the case but yknow still realizing this lol But still able to just pat myself on the shoulder like It's Manageable & it is/was
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tonycries · 28 days ago
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STICKYYY
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Synopsis. His new year’s resolution? To knock you up!
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, babyféver, BRÉEDING, creampíes, buIges, mentions of kíds, cervíx kíssing, full neIsons, GOJO’S POWERS, ínnapropriate use of jujutsu, PÚSSYDRÚNK JJK MEN, marathons, true form Sukuna, dp, Sukuna’s second mouth, p talking, cúmplay, spítting, making it fit, use of “ma’am”, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Be honest can y’all tell that I’m ovuIating…
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - FEVER!
“T-Tooooji-”
You’re being oh-so-easily shut up with just three stinging slaps! of Toji’s hefty, swollen tip. Strawberry-red, and just as angrily plump. Making such a mess when he’s smearing between your treacly walls in a gluey kiss - like he never wanted to let go. 
And you never wanted him to.
Not even when he’s rolling his eyes with a mean titter, “Don’t remember my heh- birthday gift includin’ this chatty mouth of yours, doll.” A singular, masculine palm sheaths over your deliriously slack maw - rough. “S’even more talkative than her-”
But it was impossible not to be after these hours upon hours.
Impossible for your sloppy entrance to not drawl out resoundingly filthy slurps every time Toji’s scooping his buttery seed back in with his vicious fingers.
“Ya realize that’s supposed to stay ah- inside, ma?” Wrangling your legs open into a rude full-nelson to leave a sappy smack! at that gooey heaven right between. Toji sounds so utterly sullen at the waste, “How m’I gonna get myself a daughter if ya can’t keep it in, hm?”
It was a rhetorical question - and Toji was fucking you like it was.
Sculptured, beefy biceps barely even flexing at the practically non-existent struggle to manhandle your thighs open. It gave you both such a perfect view - of your saturatedly glossy pussy folds being constricted around his lazily sinking size. Struggling. Goopy masses of Toji’s honeyed cum from just prior being drooled out after every syrupy squelch-
“Mouthy fuckin’ cunt.”’ You’re hearing him whisper from right behind you, puffs of condensed air hitting the tender spots on your neck and making you keen. “Makes me wonder- heh- who the babyfever got talkin’ more. You or her.”
He was babbling nonsense - and you were, too.
The raw ruptures of his bloated head making your jaw droop stupidly open, lashing around your heated insides to probe up rigorously against those sweet spots. Toji Fushiguro had no relent - he had no mercy. 
Because he was promised another damn brat for his birthday, and he wanted one now. 
“N-now?” Your heart-eyes are bulging out, the trembly waver in your voice shrilling upwards after every drag of his balloony tip down the span of your elastic cervix. Oh, shit, did he say that out loud? Whoops. “Toji wh-what if it hasn’t ngh- taken yet-”
Toji’s cutting you off - urgent. Spitting, as if those mere words shouldn’t be spoken out loud. “Move that hand f’me-” Couldn’t even wait the few split-seconds it takes for you to shuffle your carefulling covering hand away before flinging it off with a rude swat. “-touch that lil’ bulge- ngh- wh-where I am. Feel me.”
Your fingerpads are shaky - unstable. Caressingly feeling for that riotous smooch of Toji’s bawling fat tip peppering tiny kisses onto your cervix. Your womb. 
The blood in your veins boil with sheer need at the rounded globular edge, pressing down hard in just the way you knew that would drive Toji wild. Making his weighty breeder balls flinch with a harsh thwack! “See? Feel that? How m’alllll up in that cute womb? Bold of you to think that you’ll fuuuuck- walk outta this bedroom not pregnant, mama.”
He was determined. Feral.
Every puncturing rut had your spine arching into the most perfect curvature on top of him. Your back pressing heatedly in a lecherous massage against his heated skin, so bumpy with every flexing ab and muscle. 
You couldn’t help but feel so…ruined. In the best way.
“I-is that a promise?” You’re craning your head over your shoulder, batting those tear-clung lashes in a way that makes Toji’s willowy eyes widen. Tongue pinpointing his sinful scar once his mouth waters. What a dangerous little thing you were. “Wan’ you allll inside, Toji—”
Yeah, dangerous alright.
“Can’t have it alllll inside if yer hngh- lettin’ this cunt drool.” You’re squealing when a few calloused pads of his strongly thick digits pry open your slobbering mouth agape. Letting your tongue loll out lazily for him to splatter a honeyed wad of saliva, “Tha’s what that hngh- filthy mouth gets.”
Before in the blink of an eye, he’s bullying a few free fingers between the pursed pucker of your sensitive folds until he was knuckle-deep. Rummaging out into the geysering orifices hidden against your melty walls, he’s knotting up the ribbony ropes of his creamy seed from trickling out. 
Can’t have his pretty girl wasting a single ounce, now. How could he?
“And for my cutely ovulating wife…” You could barely even hear him above the thundering plap! plap! plap! of skin-on-skin, in such a cottony state of mind that you just register when you’re being gifted with another quick stream of spit lacquering your tongue. “-ya get- this.”
And it wasn’t just the slewing volumes of spittle that your open jaw was being splattered with.
It was the way you were cumming - without even realizing. Without even registering the uncountable heaps upon heaps of edging whines that flood your mouth, vision sparking white hot.
“M’cumming-” you’re gasping out. One limping hand bravely rovering to clutch onto Toji’s sweat-slicked locks and pull, “M’cumming m’cumming- ah! Toji–”
“Yeah yeah, e-easy on the merchandise, doll.” He’s groaning, but you can almost catch the way that he swallows. The way that his heavy balls shift with purpose underneath that girthy base to squeeze. Pulling taut. “Jus’ s-sit still n’ let me breed this ngh! goooood fuckin’ pussy like the good girl ya are.”
With a shudder, you feel like you’re being split-apart - more so than you already were.
Head buzzing with fuzzy little explosions at the thudding splatter! of just about the nth glaze of his seed scouring your deepest gooping insides. You’re being covered over and over in every tiny ridge and sweet spot with whipped icings of his potent cum.
And you can feel it almost knocking at your womb, creamed globs of it sliiiiding all the way down your walls with a promise.
“God…” You feel so full. Like your rubbery cunt was inflated widely enough that you think you might just burst. 
He’s scoffing, “Toji works jus’ fine.” 
“S-so cocky-” Head swimming cockdrunkenly with every jerking grind up into you, he’s slinging out the filthiest driveling squelches! that halfway drown out your pretty noises. What a shame.
“Oi oi, shut up-” But not to you. Toji simply can’t help but laugh - and if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have huffed at the sheer audacity. Gleaming ivory teeth snagging down onto your tender earlobe, “-the h-heh…mother of my kids is talkin’.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Hubby material.
“Hands on the wall now, darling.” Nanami’s throaty order is spoken gently. Lovingly. But you knew better than to not listen - hastily planting your splayed-out hands onto the cool kitchen wall. “Good girl. Now gimme a little show.”
“Kentoooo-” That slutty arch of your back was almost embarrassing, and you’re sure that if it hadn’t been for the strong arm circled underneath your hips then you’d have been weakly collapsed on the floor. “J-jus’ put it in- already-”
“Shhhh- patience, my love.” Your dear husband is rewarding your pitiful whines with a sudden swat! right onto the jiggling mound of your ass. Tutting with every soothing squeeze of his massive palms, that glinting wedding ring cold against your stinging flesh. “Patience s’the number one trait a good parent should have.”
And he’s so proper. 
Or…at least it seems. 
Because those cracking whimpers spilling their way between your lips only make Nanami greedier. The slight tremble of your thighs when your teary slit douses the tile below with a sticky puddle of slick driving him wilder-
“I- I know-” you’re huffing, head craned with an oh-so-irresistible pout. “B-but a good parent should also be ngh- punctual.” 
Punctual? Nanami Kento was always punctual. 
To every date, every meeting, every appointment - everything but right now when he feels his swollen pink tip twitch at your smart little backtalk. Biting down on the hollowish insides of his cheek to keep that dark chuckling from slipping through.
“Hmmm…” Nanami’s letting his rich baritone drawl, perfectly knowing the way that it was enough to make your thighs squeeze together needily. He’s tapping a soft massage down your curved spine, “Let me think…you really think a good- hah- parent should be punctual, darlin’?”
“Mhm–”
“Y’know I always trust your judgement…”
And it’s so cute the way you can only nod and nod, babbling. “Y-yes. Please- Ken, need it- want it-”
Well then, if his wife says so. Right? 
You’re barely even given the time to fucking breathe in a steadying gulp of the heady air before whatever remnants of it are being fucked out of your lungs. 
Oh…this was a change.
Because there was something about the way that Nanami was shoveling all his long, solid inches into you with almost-reckless abandon. Something rough, something…carnal. 
Like every heaving breath had his poor sanity fraying. Guiding one hand to wrap around his hefting hilt and smear away your adhesive-like folds with the globular mountain of his mushroom tip, the other steadied at the bottom of your back to angle you bent even deeper-
The stretch.
Fuck, the stretch - Nanami was so big. His incredible girth bullying past that taut first ring of muscle and peaking up into those spots without even trying. So fully encompassing each and every hidden nook inside your gooey walls that you always end it wanting more more more- 
“Momma’s always gonna ngh- know best, hm?” Nanami’s hiccuping into your ear, flecks of golden blond sticking to his prespired skin and yours once he kisses away your cockdrunk splatters of dribble. “Awww, n-none of that hngh! drooling now, s’gonna make ya dehydrated n’ that’s not good for the baby, darlin’.”
You’re feeling a softened thumb glide along your lips to tenderly clean off the messy streaks of spittle. “Th-thank you, Ken-” Looking up at him with literal hearts for eyes, “-gonna be the best daddy.”
He was. He was going to make sure of it.
But hearing that from you? 
Shit, Nanami has to sneak down a pinch at the side of his muscular leg just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming or in heaven right this very moment. 
Pulpy surfaces of his toned thighs smushing up against your own, he’s finding himself bending ever-so-slightly a few degrees at the knee to lessen the burden on his poor wife’s legs. Making your ears ring with the filthy paps of his hip-bones ploughing vigorously into your ass. 
Bruising your skin, your cervix, your hips once one of his free hands scurry underneath you to take the pressure off of your ever-weakening hips. Crushing your back tightly against the rippling planes of his sculptured front.
And Nanami’s cooing gruffs come out scorching against the sensitive side of your ear, “C-can’t put too much ah- strain. S’not good for the b-baby…for my girls.”
Girls - not just one.
Nanami wanted two lil’ daughters that looked exactly like you, and loved you exactly as much as him. A blissful image of his little family drawing itself clearer and clearer with every smack! against the fat of your cervix. Tight. Close. 
“Gonna take c-care of ya-” He’s inching his bludgeoning tip to slobber a fat stripe down the door to your womb, accompanied by an innocently tender peck against the side of your forehead. “Reeeal good care. A-and then…”
“And then, Ken?” 
“Then- m’gonna-” You can only gasp when Nanami cranes his neck over to where your open palms are still positioned on the smooth wall. Glassy eyes ogling the twitch of the veins running down his throat when he’s placing a soft smooch right on your wedding ring, “-m’gonna marry ya all over again.”
Nanami Kento is sure that he’ll be renewing your vows every year. Every single week. Every single day - even after your daughters are born - perhaps if only you’d let him. If only you’d keep singing out his name in a sultry whine exactly the way you always do when you cum.
Head tumbling backwards with the sheer power of it, body wracking with boiling peaks of your high. Again and again and again-
“There we go, there- hngh- ready, my love.” He sounds so proud. So fucked. And you know you’re not imagining it when the rugged callouses of Nanami’s fingers dart around your throat to drag you into a steaming hot French kiss. One that left his weighty balls squeezing dangerously- “S’about to get…messy.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Baby SHOWER
“Oh shiiiiit, girl.” Geto’s rolling his eyes, softly rounded fingertips rovering down from its second-favorite position around your neck all the way down to his most favorite - smearing open your thoroughly stuffed pussy lips to pinch your puckering clit. Glazing his long five-inch digits with a treacly lamination of your translucent squirts. “Didn’t think you’d be so ngh- messy. S’this all f’me?”
Yes. yes, yes yes it was.
But you couldn’t mangle out the syllables right now - don’t think you had it in you to even try. Not with the way that he’s planting three sappy smacks! down your slobbering cunt. Snickering at the throaty little S-Suguruuu letting off from your lips-
“Ah ah- needy. Can’t even t-talk properly, huh?” And, fuck, was Suguru Geto ever-so-grateful that your copious amounts of orgasms tonight left you already fucked stupid. Because your saturated mind isn’t catching onto the way his rumbling baritone wobbles, the way he has to gulp before muttering. “Now, gimme a kiss. Heh, gimme a ngh- kiss n’ I might just cum inside to give you a little…daughter.” 
The only thing you’ve wanted for so long now. 
But Geto always did find you the cutest when you were teased. When you were split-open on his mean cock and whining for him to fill you up with each deeply vulgar stroke. It made him only want more. 
Made his palms stretch your jittery thighs even wider in his filthy little mating press, like a gooey little banquet for him. Pearly canines showing off in such a snarl when you’re lolling your head upwards to press a few drawling smooches against the corner of his pretty lips, “O-oops. I missed, Suguru.”
“Try again.” Well, he has to build up the patience for raising his future daughter somehow, right? 
Locking your ankles around that neck of his with only one strong arm, and the other grappling dexterously around your throat to drag you down. You’re being manhandled - unapologetically.
“But-”
“Again.”
“W-wan’ it insideee- wan’ a baby.” you’re squealing when his plummy cockhead spatters a few steaming hot dewdrops of pre against your poor cervix. Rutting out solid pound after pound. Each one making you desperately catch his chin, his jaw, his lips in a few drunken kisses. “Please, Sugu?”
Damn.
Damn that evil, evil nickname of yours. 
And he really can’t help but steal a greedy peak down at your drooling cunt, scoffing at the way he feels his parted maw slip through a few rivulets of drool at the fucking sinful sight. 
Your gummy pussy being molded wiiiidely open around his rummaging cock. Glossy rings upon rings of your sugary slick and his creamy pre being drenched upon every single inch that was bullied inside. Even more so when those bumpily inflated veins of his graze right against your forbidden sweet spots. 
And Geto couldn’t stop his light-headed bout of laughter, teasing. “Second opinion?”
It’s almost as if every battering ram had your overfilled pussy talking back to him. 
“C’mon- speak up.” He’s hastily swiping away the curtains of his silky black tresses sticking to his clammy forehead, yearning to hear those lecherous noises from below better. Before curling his engulfing palm once more around your delicate throat, “Not you- Oh? Mmmm-”  he’s huffing out, ears craning. “If you say so, girl.”
Not to mention that you hadn’t uttered a single word. 
But to Geto that didn’t matter, to him it was all he could do to nod along sappily as if having the most intriguing of conversations with your bulging cunt.
Nuzzling into the treasure trove of the crook of your neck, he’s gulping in your pheromones. Shuttering out hot puffs of words between every bludgeoning thrust, “Aren’t I so nice? Listenin’ ta what she says. Yer real lucky s’me fillin’ up this pretty ngh- pussy, gorgeous. Real lucky- because…”
“B-because- what?” You’re hissing, eyes decorating with puddles of oversensitive tears. They trek down your cheeks and make Geto groan once his ravenous tongue laps up every salty ounce. 
“Because when I breed you, m’gonna do it right.”
A promise. 
One he was already halfway through fulfilling if the way that Geto’s staggeringly full breeder balls were twitching against your slamming mounds of flesh told you anything. Urged you. Pushed and pulled with every mounted pump-
“G-gonna be all round and full, arent’cha, ngh- my gorgeous baby? Glowing?” And he was ruining the both of you. Brows marrying closer and closer with every cozy sheath, your clingy walls made his thickly swollen shaft just flood your spongy pulpy cervix with wiry ropes of precum. “Heavily pregnant?”
“Y-yeees-” Gaze heart-eyed and crossing diagonally together, you’re barely even noticing it when your dear lover rests his damp forehead against yours to pucker his lips and grace your tongue with a heavy wad of saliva. “Want it all, Suguru– a-all ngh- deep inside.”
“All?” He’s echoing, and something in his pupils amethyst pupils darken. Something in his voice hardens. Movements jittery and coated in a shimmer of awe when he strays one of your hands down to soothe over your tummy, “Sure ya e-even have the space? M’right-” Pressing down - hard - on that plump rotund tip of his driveling deeply down inside. “-here, y’know? Where our h-heh, daughter’s gonna be.”
Oh. Motioning out a lethargic nod, “All.”
Because Geto only lets his mind shatter for a split-second, his entire muscular body jolting. Fuck. You were going to be the fucking death of him.
Before giggling. Giggling. All drunk on your pussy and you, “Th-then- then, say it with me. Ngh- t-tell me you’re ready for the hah- biiiig stretch, gorgeous.”
“M-M’ready for-” Shit, so embarrassing even despite your barely-lucid state right now. “-the big stretch-”
“Uh uh- the biiiig stretch. Say it with me-”
Practically sobbing with need now - and your poor cunt wasn’t any different. You swear you could feel a sloshing pool of lewd juices forming right below you. “Fuck! Sugu- Suguru, m’ready for th-the ngh- biiig stretch.”
“Then…” he’s practically purring with delight. Ah, finally. “-fucking cum f’me, pretty momma.”
And when you do it’s riding upon the waves of his, too. 
Seeing white, the peaks of your now-fragile high being ruptured and dragged out with every sticky waterfall of Geto’s aqueous seed. 
Treacling into the narrow orifice of your sloppy hole, you could feel every swabbing ribbon slip and slide its way inside. Deeper and deeper every time Geto was fucking each voluminous ounce back in, in, in-
“Now now, what did I s-say…” Splattering out another sugarcoated douse of streaming spit onto your tongue, Geto is in no way shy about punishing your sopping wet slit with a resounding thwack! Tutting at the buttery white lipstain seeping from the corners of your puffed-up pussy and making such a filthy mess at his thickened base. “Look at all that ah- wasted. Mouthy pussy o’ yours said you could hah- take it all, but s’ like a shower.”
Your lips part when he’s pumping you doubly full with his relentless digits, shovelling back the velveteen slathers of his own seed back in. “Suguru…”
“Guess I jus’ hafta fuck ya full all over again.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Boys boys boys
“C-can you ah- hold my hand for this ngh! first time, baby?” He’s hiccuping out like a mantra - a prayer - after every sloppy peck of his ruddied tip onto your adhesive-like folds. Choso’s poor heart barely working up enough courage to dab a slow circle around your quivering entrance. 
And he didn’t know what to do. What to expect but…the only thing that mattered was that he had you.
“Awww, of course, Cho—” It makes him so fucking shy how your warmly cooing tone is all it takes for his achingly hard cock to twitch. Mind shattering into a zillion shards as one hand of yours sweetly laces with his, “No need to be- ah- nervous.”
It was unfair - it was so fucking unfair. 
You were driving Choso wild - absolutely feral with just a singular plap! of your rounded ass ricocheting down to ride your dear boyfriend free of his fucking soul. So tight. And…heavenly. 
He didn’t read anywhere online that it was supposed to feel this good. Curving your sultry birthing hips in lecherous little circular motions that have his dewey eyes battered in tears-
And that was the fucking problem. Your hips. Your cute cunt. You. 
“Fuh-fuck. So soft and warm…” Making him curdle out a few whining whimpers from between his plumped lips, puckering into an oh-so-cute pout as Choso bats his long lashes up at you. “Didn’t ah- didn’t know a p-pussy could feel so ah- good.”
He didn’t know what to do but let his slagging maw drool around where he was lathering the fleshy mounds of your tits with his syrupy saliva. Sucking. 
Neat brows knitting at the way there was no milk - didn’t that manual say humans produced- ah, not yet. Not unless…He could faintly feel something in the very back of his melty mind sparking. “B-baby…”
“Mhm?” And oh, you could get used to that tone. Seeping out into Choso’s prettily rumbling voice whenever he got just a tinge too pussydrunk. Babbling. “Cho– what h-have I ah! said about talking with your mouth full?”
Fuck- Choso didn’t even register what he was doing - register what you were saying. Roughened pads of his tastebuds gleaming down your nipples for a solid few seconds before he’s gurgling out, “I- I want…”
You’re humming. God, he was so pretty like this. Handsome features blushing strawberry red at your half-lidded gaze and the way your clingy walls were smooching his bloated, mushroomy tip so tight. You had no mercy. “Yeeees?”
“I want a son.”
Oh.
Oh.
And just as soon as that sodden little confession is spilling from his lips - tumbling out like he didn’t even mean to formulate the words - Choso sees white. And he feels it, too.
Feels himself lathering your gooey cunt in heaps upon heaps of his torrential cum. Dousing thick, creamy swabs that pinpoint all your most tender orifices for him to dig into. So hot. Heavy. Swashing around in slight treacles at your thoroughly opened insides like a gluey second skin. And the rut of his hips is so animalistic - up, up, up with every ounce of cursed power he has. 
Part of him knows he’s fucking pathetic to be cumming so early from just that - even if it was his first time.
But he doesn’t give a fuck.
Not when your pretty pussy had him seeing his future with you. Seeing stars - and you right there in the middle, holding onto a giggling bundle with his hair, and your eyes. 
Not when his calloused fingers are latching onto your waist like he was planning on never letting go. And Choso’s jaw simply drops at those velvety ribbons of milky white spattering from your drooly cunt and sliding down the ladder of washboard abs. 
You were clenching around him so cozily. So hypnotizingly. Perfect enough that…
Something snaps. 
“Oh god-” he’s gasping, eyes wide - wild. Slender digits carving out neat crescents so harshly against your perspiration-simmered skin. Entire body hunching to French kiss the valley between your tits, “Oh god oh god oh…god…s-s’not enough. It’s not- I-I don’t think it took. Need to- to get you pregnant, baby.”
Sounding so genuinely devastated. You’re shivering at the warm splat! of his big, pearly tears between your bodies - lower lip wobbling at that heavenly slight right in front of him.
Of course it wasn’t enough. And, right now, Choso thinks it never will be.
His pretty lips are just letting out intoxicated nonsense by now. And during times like this, you really forget just how strong your beloved boy is. 
How…greedy he is.
Because those electric aftershocks of his syrupy high had barely even passed. Barely even started to bate before he’s leveraging his superhuman strength to easily flip the two of you over. 
You’re being crushed pliantly and helplessly in half between those drenched navy bedsheets and his flexing muscles. 
Choso was just melting into you; saliva-glossed mouth slacking into a condensed kiss against your own, forehead desperate and feverishly hot resting against yours, big, beefy arms caging you in. 
You could feel that sappy thwack! of his tight, globular balls smearing against your ass once more. That split, peachy cockhead of his skates right down your headily sweltering walls to gift a puckered snog against your cervix. And another. And one more. And just one more-
“H-hey…come back t’me.” He’s huffing out in lethargic little pants, palms clasping onto the crown of your head and pushing you down. Down. Down. Filling you up with his girthy cylindrical shaft until you were fucked stupid. He’s begging, “Hear me out- no zoning out, m’kay? Need you ta g–give me a baby, m’kay, baby?”
And despite the broken pleas that were flooding into his mouth, you couldn’t do anything against the way that Choso’s body was pinning yours down with hungry pound after pound. Fuck- is this what they say? About losing control? About…baby fever?
God, the thought is enough for him to curl his hips sleazily backwards until you’re squirming. Letting the fountain of opaquely milky seed gush! down your inner thighs with the wettest of squelches. They ring saturatedly in Choso’s ears like his favorite song-
Well, it was his favorite song now. 
“Your hah- lil’ human womb s’gonna be so full- s-so cute.” Taking his time filling you back inch by inch. Choso’s button nose crinkles at the sight bouncy recoil against the spongy ends of your pussy. He can’t part from you - not even that. Doesn’t want to. Leaving kiss after kiss on your jiggling tits, sucking. “Need these f-filled. Need a son- m-my son. Gonna be the beeeest momma mhm- with the sweetest milk.”
A few sneaky set of his lips droop to your puffed-up nipples and bite almost mindlessly. Lacquering a heavy layer of spittle as Choso sucks like his favorite gummy candy.
And the way you arch your back into a perfectly slutty curvature to glissade your fatigued body against his sculpted front has Choso gaping. Has his eyes spying down at the bloated outline of himself inside you, nuzzling one mountainous palm. “A-and…ngh- daughter s’good too actually…maybe both. Maybe- maybe I just- jus’ really wan- need you.”
An uncharacteristically smug grin plasters all over his face at the way your mouth pouts, “B-boy or girl, Cho?”
Choso’s shivering. Aching with that red-hot depravation coiling at the bottom of his stomach to fill you up more and more and more- “Five boys- n’ one ngh- girl- all of ‘em with your pretty smile. You…you’re gonna g-give me that, right, ma’am?” 
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 1000 Yr. DILF?!
“Cummin’ on my cock again? Makin’ such a damn mess.” And anyone would recognize that disapproving tut wafting sternly from between the King of Curses’ lips, anyone would fall completely to their knees. “This yer hah- first time bein’ bred or what, girl?”
Except for you.
You’re not sure you could even if you wanted to.
Because Ryomen Sukuna had you all over him like his absolute favorite doll - your boneless limbs hanging on for dear life in this rude standing nelson he’d manhandled you into. His favorite. 
One out of four of his massive palms splay out greedily onto the crown of your head, teasingly indenting the sharp corners of his black fingernails into your scalp. Dragging you to bear your droopy eyes into that cracked floor-length mirror at the very ends of his royal chamber. 
“Oh riiight-” He’s rolling his eyes, hips bucking up to overstuff you full of his bloated shafts. And through the ever-so-slightly cracked lids of your own, you can spy his sleazing grin. “-it is.”
“K-Kuna Kunaaa-” Your mouth just can’t stop squealing it out like your own personal mantra, limp legs dangling in midair with every sloppy slap! of his dual lengths. You’ve never felt so…blissfully helpless. “I-inside. I need you inside-”
“M’already inside, woman.” Fuck- you were so cute when you got all stupidly cockdrunk like this. But it’s not like Sukuna was going to admit that, instead covering up for the roughened hitch of his breath with a snicker. Second free hand gifting a punishing swat! onto your clit. One. Two. Three. “Only thing tha’s not inside ya yet is my heir. Yet. Seriously- that fuckin’ ngh- greedy for me t-ta fill ya up till yer overspillin’ or what?”
And you can only nod. Nod and nod and nod while buttery scoops of his glossy pre sprayed all over your g-spot, your cervix, everywhere and anywhere. 
Sukuna was leaving no crevice and sweet-spot unturned, the matchingly staggering sizes snugly barreling inside you until you were spellbound. And it really didn’t make him soothe his pace to be even just a bit more merciful the way those near-thirteen inches made your tummy swell. 
Bloated up with such mouth-watering abandon. Just like it would if you were…
“...pregnant.” Oh, that word is leaving Sukuna with more of a whine than he intended. Hips snagging upwards to peak the lightning bolts of his thumping veins salaciously down the side of your g-spot. “A c-cute lil’ cunt like this is how yer gonna end up ngh- pregnant.”
Listen, he’s not one to get all stupidly sentimental.
But your heavenly pussy was just plaguing him with rosy visions of you and a lil’ gremlin to call your own. With pink hair and that stupid, stupid smug grin that was stolen undeniably from his genes. Dammit. 
Who said you could make him feel all…mushy. He should have you charged with treason for this.
And, well, of course this was Ryomen Sukuna’s favorite position.
Of course, he’s taking that absolutely blasphemous advantage to let the second oversized tongue split apart his abs slosh outwards. 
Slithering muscle careening its snailing pathway down your teary pussylips, lapping up ounces upon ounces of syrupy slick. Before twirling around and around that plump button of your clit. And it was so…filthy, it made you squirm. 
“S-s’dirty…” You’re throwing your head back into the cushiony valley of his toned pecs in a frenzy, electric bolts of pleasure sprinting down your spine with every wet thwack! emanating from down below. Though, you weren’t complaining. You really, really weren’t complaining. “Kuna…”
And- fuck. You should’ve known.
Should’ve realized that letting your mouth smear dangerously open to echo out your whines would result in the devilish curse spitting a wet splatter right at the corner of your pouty lips.
And Ryomen Sukuna had perfect aim - he had the perfect ability to make this ordeal as neat as possible. 
But where was the fun in that?
You were just so adorable with your saliva-slicked lips wobbling open, jolting at the terrorizing scrape of his overgrown nails smearing away the pools of delirious dribble. Gently. 
“Dirty? Hah! Wha’s real hngh- dirty s’this pretty pussy in ovulation. Look.” He’s grunting out, and before you know it you’re being nudged even closer towards that ancient mirror. Fully drinking in the way that Sukuna was filling you up, the way that you were taking him. Chest heaving you up and down as he swallows in a deep inhale, “Can fuckin’ smell it on you- heh, my favorite time of the month. Has you beggin’ f’me to fuck you full with my seed? To give you an heir, huh?”
You were.
Throat scratching out the tiniest of pleas that you don’t even register slipping through your lips - but Sukuna could. He yearns for them. 
Feels them stir up the heated depths of his rounded breeder balls when they stick against your ass after every tireless pap! Your hands crane around to claw useless into those bulging deltoids of his-
“Oi, where’d ya think yer scratchin’? Trynna run?” Preposterous. As if you could ever run away from him - from the bruising smooches that Sukuna was leaving down every elastic inch inside your goopy depths. Sopping. Sodden French kisses. “Or…” Tongue gliding down his bared canines, other tongue leaving a sappy plap! of a touch onto your peaked clit. “...or is it that momma here is gonna heh- cum?”
“C-cum-” Fighting to strangle out - as if you needed to, in the first place. You didn’t, but you were just so endearing like this. “-gonna cum- ngh- gonna- gonna-”
“A-after that, ya better fuckin’ make me a daddy.” 
And if this was any other time then Sukuna would have mocked your pitchy whines. Lilted his growling baritone to taunt you as you fell apart. 
But he couldn’t - because he wasn’t doing any better. 
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck, so fucking embarrassing how the clingy embrace of your sopping walls clamping around his bloated lengths was enough to make him cum. Him. The all-powerful King of Curses at your utter mercy. 
Those split, bawling divots of his splurging out seedy strings of pearly white, decorating your sloshing insides until it felt too heavy. Too tight. 
Voluminous masses of his cum settling deep at the goopy depths of your pussy - and Sukuna always had so much to give. A smirk plastering all over his face once the sensitive undersides of his cocks brush up against one another. 
Twitching to pry your gluey walls wide open enough to let a few thickly viscous dollops of seed frost your puffed-up pussy lips. Lips that his second mouth can’t help but kiss to clean up-
“Tch…such a damn mess.” You’re hearing ring inside our cottony brain from somewhere above, still short-circuiting blissfully. “But yer my mess, huh, Queen of Curses?”
♡ INO TAKUMA - “W-woah…”
Ino can’t stop himself - he can’t fucking shut up.
Pathetically drawling words tumbling out with every slight translucent sliver of fucking drool. With every pussydrunkenly content sigh that escapes him once he’s sinking back and forth past your tender entrance. “Atttta girl, th-this is the life…”
And, in fact, Ino can see his life with you when you’re on all fours and milking him so prettily like this. Especially when you’re like this.
He can see just how much prettier you’d look round and glowing and round- Filled to the brim with all of him until you pop out a cute lil’ boy with his eyes and your smile…or two boys…or three.
Ino can’t help but flex his wracking body forwards until you’re being absolutely crushed with the weight of all his slender muscles. Every plunging bump of his ruddy pink cockhead swirling into your most precious treasure trove of sweet spots. And the way your dewy eyes veer crossed with every one of his bludgeoning rams is so cute-
“P-pretty…” And he doesn’t mean it just as that cute lil’ nickname for you. Plumply puckered lips punching sweet little pecks down the pearlescent beads of perspiration at your forehead, “Wh-what do you think about taking ngh- us to the h-heh..next step.”
And, fuck- that should’ve been an inside thought.
That was supposed to have been something he kept to the confines of his sugarcoated brain. 
But when you’re flashing a simpering curl of your lips like that, then he can’t stop himself from letting his angry cock twitch. Bursting with spattering showers of his scorching pre that make an easy trailway for Ino’s bulging shaft to slip and slide easily deeper. “N-next step?”
“Mhm–” Fuck it. He spits onto the curvaceous pads of his fingertips, gliding to nuzzle your swollen clit. Tugging on the hood of that sensitive nub in a way that makes you see stars. “The next step.”
“Engagement?”
“Nuh uh-”
“Marriage?”
“No, silly girl.” Letting off a few sickly sweet swats at your buzzing clit, he’s snickering at the way that makes your spine arch. Lips sleazing up a few kisses right down the middle, “M’talkin’ kids. M’sayin’ I wanna breed ya- knock ya up f-fuck I need to-”
And you’re so addicted to just how needy he is. 
A bout of light-headed giggles making its way from between your slackened lips, that sound enough to make him huff out a pout and shovel a few solid inches even meaner. You’re mumbling out, “Th-that pussydrunk, Taku—?”
“Sh-shut up.” He’s grumbling, dousing his dextrous digits with a few candied slathers - for only a split-second before stuffing them into the slobbering orifice of your mouth. Making you taste yourself. Taste him. “Shut up when I’ve- ngh! g-got my cock kissin’ yer pretty cervix, sweetness.”
And it was true. 
As if to make sure you don’t underestimate how serious he is - how ready he was right now - Ino’s trekking up one of his feet to plant right on the top of your head. 
Pressurizing with that strengthened weight to shovel your face deeper and deeper into the pillowcase. Completely soaked with waterfalling layers of your saliva, only growing more drenched with every battered ram of his pulpy peach crownhead into that g-spot.
“Ngh- Taku-” Your fingers grapple hastily towards the creakily singing mahogany headboard, clenching. Moaning wantonly, “Taku- baby– fuck! Jus’ like that.” 
“I know I know.” And he honestly doesn’t know how he finds it in himself to fucking roll his half-lidded eyes, all pretty white teeth bared in such a snarl. “Wanna milk me, huh? Take me fuckin’ cock n’ f-fuuuck gimme a ngh- son or two…” Mumbling, “...or three.”
Three. 
Three. 
Fuck.
It’s just about all you can do to weakly buck your hips in an attempt - an attempt - to meet his sloppy cadence. Nudging your hips up in sultry little gyrations that Ino is sure hypnotizes him.
And you can’t even blame him because you’re much the same-
“Wan’ it-” you’re muffling out into the silken fabrics, that awestruck expression on Ino’s face so cute that you’re gifting him with a long few sucks on his greedy tongue. Tasting him like your very favorite lolly, “O-one or two- ah! Want you to f-fill me up-” And he’s so tender interlacing his fingers with your own, letting you guide them up to your still-empty tummy and press. “-right here.”
You didn’t have to tell Ino Takuma twice. 
“Shit- shit.” He’s gruffing out, mere moments before you feel his sharpened canines dig into the delicate crook of your neck. Hard enough to break skin-
Nothing more until he’s letting his sobbing divot burst out in stealthy ribbons upon ribbons of cum - already. Drawing out his initials into your rubbery cervix as much as he can over and over. 
Ragged moans tearing into whines at just how blissful it felt, how embarrassing it was that he’s reaching his high just from a few of your words. 
“M’sorry I-I-” Ino nuzzles the neat circle of his teethmarks, smearing the roughened pads of his tastebuds along those oversensitive indentations. That slight tinge of pleasurable pain making your gripping walls squeeze, and Ino hisses. “-actually- fuck! M’not sorry ngh- not sorry ta breed this ngh tiiiight cunt.”
You’re humming once one set of fingers loop your neck to drag you into every shuddering grind. Pumping your tight channel fuller and fuller with creamy swashes of cum, “G-gettin’ really cocky, aren’tcha, baby?”
“Only for you.” He tuts, “Gotta h-hope our ah- two sons don’t get my personality, huh?”
“Three, remember?”
Oh.
Oh? 
“Can you…” Ino’s whispering, throat ragged and raw. Gazing droopily gluing together with tears and utter heart-eyes when he’s babbling onwards, “...can you marry me, pretty?”
♡ GOJO SATORU - SIX EYES
“Sweetheart…sweetheart-” Gojo’s voice comes out in more of a rasping growl than anything else, and it’s just as fitting that he’s latching his pearly whites onto your throat to help drag you down, down, down. “Dammit…you’ve gotta s-stop movin’ around so much n’ just ngh- Take it take it take it take- it-” 
Take it you were - for the past few hours now, in fact.
And the electricity was already out in every ward of Tokyo, your bed was already splintered and useless. 
But Gojo’s heavy cock was still sputtering out rummaging swab after swab into you right then and there on your bedroom floor. Leaving creamy remnants of cum glissading down your insides everywhere. Anywhere.
Fuck - he came again.
Gojo can barely blink his eyes open to admire the traces of gooey white that made their home inside your sweltering hot pussy. Good, he’s stuffing back that soppy puddles forming at the ends of your puckered crease, very good.
“W-was told m’Christmas gift would be ngh- you all round n’ pregnant-” he’s whining in a sickly syrupy tone against your ear. And you’re catching the way that Gojo’s gummy pink lips curl into a pout, “So we’ve gotta start early.”
Shit- you didn’t know what to expect telling Gojo that you were…ready. 
But it certainly wasn’t for the famed strongest to lose his goddamn mind, for him to lock one beefy bicep around the small of your middle and drag you like some glorified ragdoll to meet his determined mating press. 
“T-talk t’me pretty momma–” He’s plastering his body all over yours, greedily sucking up every ounce of space you own. It was his space now. Just like this was his pretty pussy that he was breeding.
“Satoru—” Your fatigued fingers cradle the side of his handsome face, motioning to scrape across Gojo’s cloudy tufts of white in a way that makes him purr. That makes his overworked cockhead douse your heated cunt with copiously thick dredges of pre. Perhaps even tiny wisping ribbons of cum. Just from that. “H-how are you still…”
Honestly, you didn’t even have to ask.
Because even through your bleary heart-eyes, you’re catching the way that his narrowed eyes bolt with miniscule flickers of bright blue lightning. Zapping with cursed energy as they droop drunkenly half-lidded, “H-heh…perks of bein’ ngh- fucked by the honored one, girlie.”
But the one ruined here was him.
Every warm lacquer of his own treacly seed swirling and sloshing against his shaft with every jittery rut. The weepy swipe of his peach-pink tip has Gojo’s fuzzy mind blanking. Feverish ounces of blood making his bludgeoning cock swell fatter and fatter-
“Sh-shit…” Gojo’s maw spills open, watery eyes of sapphire sprinting all the way to the very back of his lid. Only to be greeted with visions of stars and you, you you - all round and…pregnant. Fuck, he needed this bad. “Dammit dammit- dammit! Think m’gonna cum–”
You’re nodding, “Cum f’me, Toru– D-don’t miss.”
As if he would ever miss.
“Damn- how filthy.” He’s grinning, “Could cum from j-just that, y’know?”
But if you noticed the urging tease in his words then you don’t snap back - you can’t. Making the towering man himself let out a low whistle, “Oh? No mockin’? Shiiit- that fucked dumb, huh?”
And you really shouldn’t be surprised when the stilted atoms in the air seem to freeze around you two. Everything tight and stuffy with the use of cursed energy as Gojo’s activating his six eyes, glowing eyes eagerly feeding down upon- oh.
You can’t help but let out little whimpers at the bzzzzz–! of jujutsu when he’s skimming a few six-inch fingers down your tummy. Down, down, down like he could see through-
“Hmmm, right on time-” Gojo’s chuckling - and there’s something else that’s utterly dark tinting his sing-song voice. Something…dangerous. This really was the strongest. “-yer ovulatin’ right now heh- this one’s gonna be th-the ngh! one.”
“Wh-what?”
“My daughter and my son- duh, my silly girl.”
Fuck, what?
Only being able to gape at the lustrous sheen of drool flooding from between his grinning lips. Snowy brows raising the longer Gojo’s gaze locked right where your womb was. He was so fucking eager. 
Barely even realizing what he’s doing - whether he’s even using his powers - when resting your boneless legs on top of two strong forearms. You could feel the flex of his muscles underneath your flesh as Gojo unabashedly and unapologetically cracks your legs even further open.
His own personal buffet. 
Vicious thrusts ruining the syrupy harmony inside, “Not gonna miss- never g-gonna miss f’it’s ta ngh- make my cute lil’ twins, m’kay, my girl?” Patting at your inflationary cylindrical outline, “Gotta s-safe space riiiight here s-so just-”And you keen when a fat fingerpad lathered in vibrating jujutsu thumbs over your clit. “-cum.”
And you were more than happy to.
To let that tautly pulled string of yours burst to fall right over the edge. You’re cumming with Gojo’s mouth on yours and his swollen tip French kissing your bruised and battered g-spot. Marking out permanent indentations of his girthy circumference. 
“Thereeee we go-” He’s giggling - giggling. Limitless long since flickered off to let your nails drag their red, red patterns down his Herculean back muscles. “Mhm- Toru’s here. Tha’s right, h-hngh! hold on wh-when ah, fuck- Toru here fills ya up…”
And it was much more than just filling you up. 
Because it’s like Gojo was trying to flood your poor insides, his cock hitting in a sappy thwack! against the rubbery end of your cervix to glaze out thick wiry bursts of cum. Again. And again. And again and again and again- because he couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to.
“Take it- oh, take it.” He’s breathing out, heaving right into your open mouth. Perhaps if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed the way the furniture jitters, moves. Reeling into the magnetic field that was Gojo Satoru and his six eyes bumping into overdrive. “Can see it- hehhhh– My good fuckin’ girl milkin’ every inch of me. Just look at h-how you have the ngh- strongest. On his fucking knees…”
But Gojo didn’t mind - not one bit as his creamy dabs slipped and slided to stain your pussylips a glossy white. Pretty pinkish balls squeezing out a weighty few wads of sap before he’s whimpering. Yes, whimpering, “Ngh- I c-can tell the ah- first s’gonna be a girl…my cute daughter- gonna be as ah- pretty as her momma. And my son- heh, total momma’s boy.”
Just babbling right now - begging and begging for you to take even more with his hips fucking you powerfully full. 
“Sweetheart…” Gojo’s eventually piping up over those ringing squelches, oversensitive eyes fluttered firmly shut. 
“Hm?”
“Yer gonna be such a fuckin’ MILF.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Pony.
“Ride it, angel-” Higuruma knows he should let his poor girl take it easy, he knows he should wipe that filthily sleazy grin off of his face when your hips stutter even harder down all of his mean inches. “-I said ride it- ride me. P-put those hips to work now like a good girl f’me.”
And you were.
You couldn’t stop - not when your babyfever was at an all time high. 
Barely even letting your poor husband walk two steps past the front door from work, barely even letting him take off his sexy office suit before burying his swollen cockhead deep past your sappy folds. Needing him. 
You were leaving needy smooch after smooch of your glossy folds on the neatly trimmed happy trail down his washboard abs for what seemed like hours now. 
But it still wasn’t enough. Still. Your mouth aching for the same kiss-
You’re wrapping your fingers around the silken fabric of his tie to haul him even closer. “Wan’ a k-kiss, Hiromi–” His pretty first name dripping from your tongue like a prayer, and the way that only makes him gulp has your velvety orifice spraying out a sodden rivulet of treacly slick. 
“A kiss?” Higuruma’s batting his dark lashes teasingly, the corners of his mouth turning upwards into a simpering smile that only you had the privilege of ever seeing. Your glissading body gets easily pulled into his with a hefty arm wrapping around your waist, head tilting upwards. Close. “Really think ya deserve a hah- kiss, my slutty girl?”
“Y-yes–” Your hips are swerving in languid gyrations to swallow everything that Higuruma has to offer. To let your depraved walls cling onto the heated girth of him tight enough that it’s almost as if you were trying to permanently imprint every one of his bloated ridges, every vein, every thwack! against your plush walls. “W-won’t you give the ah- mother of your kids a k-kiss, Hiro?”
Oh.
Oh…
Higuruma’s dewy eyes are snapping open, jaw loosening with raw shock and something…carnal. You really were made for him - you clever, clever woman.
“So…” He’s quirking up a stern dark brow, and suddenly you’re reminded why so many find your attractive husband so intimidating. “A kiss, huh?”
Clasping one of your wrists to place a long peck against the back of your hand - it’s so gentlemanly. So tender. “How about this for a hah- kiss? Or…” The complete opposite of the way that Higuruma’s hips were bucking uncontrollably up, up, up - breaking through your steady tempo to plant a thorough clash of his mushroomed tip against your cervix. Sneaking in a loooong drag right down the middle to make sure that you’ll feel him puckering up there for days. Weeks. “-how about this?”
Fuck.
He was so mean.
Cackling out at your huffing and puffing, “S-so rude- Ngh- I take it back, don’t want ya to b-breed-”
“Awww, don’ say that my pretty lil’ wife-” The mahogany bedframe sings out protesting creaks when he plants his feet onto the cushiony mattress, driving his scouring crownhead into you lazily. Mazing through those gluey walls of yours to wrench out tiny squeals as he easily takes over. “Don’tcha know how hck! badly I wan’ my own lil’ family. A lil’ daughter.” One hand tugging on the tie that was still dangling haphazardly from his neck, “You jus’ hafta- hah- sit there all p-pretty and take it. Let me fuck ya full, tha’s all…”
That’s all but it felt like anything but. 
Because Higuruma was no stranger to letting his speed pick up as dirtily as he wished, pounding into the tight crevices of your gummy hole until you felt like you were molding to his exact circumference. 
“H-hate how you always know what to- ah!” He doesn’t even let you finish your half-heated sentence, letting your hands rest precariously on the broad deltoids of his shoulders. Because you felt so weak.
“Mhmm— love you, too, angel.”
He knew exactly how to ruin you.
Tweaking a few fingers over to rub that silvery sheen of your sweet, sweet juices taking over the sensitive nub of your clit. Flicking at where you were the most tender with one index, he mutters, “Heh- cute.” Before tap! tap! tapping your gorgeous tummy - oh, how he loved every part of you. Every part of here that he’d make sure grows full…glowing with his kid. “S’bout time I ngh- filled ya riiiight here. Must be feelin’ awful empty, huh?”
Glazed eyes of yours latching onto his, “Yes- fuck- f-feels so lonely without ya.” Shit, those babbles were affecting Higuruma more than he’d like to admit. More than he wanted but- really, he couldn’t complain. He was addicted. “Want you to c-cum in me. Okay, Hiromi?”
Higuruma can only titter, “Yes, ma’am.”
And when he does - when he finally, finally does with a few vicious strokes plummeting against your most mushy spots - it’s so much that whatever shredded rationality left in you seriously wonders about your little request.
“G-gonna gimme a ngh- daughter, right?” Feeling the hot trickle of Higuruma’s cum showering your inner thighs, buttery globs of pearlescent white drooling from your pussy lips. “Lemme p-play hah- barbies with her. Lemme teach her to have one h-hell of a smart mouth like her parents.” Talking up to him in saturated squelches with every drilling plap! up into your overspilling pussy. “Teach her ta be as sweet as her momma.”
He was daydreaming. Eyes slipping dangerously closed with each stubborn dab of seed pushed into your womb. 
And you’re running your fingers through his now-disheveled slick-back, “S-sounds amazing, baby–”
“Yeah?  This ‘nough?” He’s groaning against your jaw, your throat. Needy and clingy - just the way that he can’t help getting at the honeyed slosh of his seed inside you. “Take it- take it, okay? Shiiit ya got even tighter- S’allll yours ta milk and…and…” 
“And- ah! what, baby?”
Peck after peck until, finally, against your lips, you hear- “And, if ya take it all like a good girl n’ I’ll let ya hngh! ride my nose next, angel.”
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A/N. Hope y’all have a lovely week!!
Plagiarism not authorized.
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chlorinecake · 4 months ago
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— YOU'RE RIGHT, BABY | 𝐂.𝐁𝐂
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▹ PAIRING: soft!dom fiancé bangchan x f. reader
▹ SYNOPSIS: Chan gets a little upset upon realizing that you weren’t wearing your engagement ring, but you make it up to him by letting him fuck you in his studio after a long day of work…
▹ WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, kissing, teasing, dry humping and heavy petting, mentions of food, breeding kink + cream pie (chan’s a possessive freak and in love with the idea of getting you preggers lol), dirty talk, light breath play (f. receiving), pet names (good girl, baby), that’s about it
▹ WORD COUNT: 1.8k — DAY 2
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BEING THE AMAZING partner you are, you decided to stop by the studio where your fiancé was working and bring him some dinner, and by dinner, I mean a box full of his favorite takeout foods:
Grilled beef, steamed rice, broccoli teriyaki, and a chicken egg roll…
He was working a few hours overtime that day, and aside from the fact that you wanted him to have something good to eat after expending such efforts, you really just missed his presence…
You missed looking at his gorgeous face and hearing his adorable voice while he did absolutely nothing but vibe with you… you missed having his hands on you and your hands on him as you both got lost in the lusts of your own hearts—
“Chris,” your voice came out gently as you stood behind him, caressing over his tense shoulders while he remained seated in his desk chair, “just rest your little head, baby… you worry too much…”
“I do… you’re right…” he sighs deeply while leaning his head back against the headrest to look at you, the smell of takeout distant in the room.
His eyes are clearly tired as you know he’s been overworked lately, but you hold yourself from bringing it up to him, placing a gentle kiss to the center of his forehead instead.
“Thanks for stopping by, though, princess,” he went on, and you already feel like he’s trying to push you away, despite how you literally just got here, “I have to get back to work now, though—”
“You’re always getting back to work, Channie…” you chuckle slightly, and his eyes flutter shut as your thumbs come across a particularly tight muscle in his left shoulder…
Digging in, you massage the knot gently, but the pressure you apply doesn’t feel so soothing at first—
“Ouch, that hurts!” Chan exclaims with a wince, and you simply smooth over his skin with your touch, massaging a different area instead as you decided to give that spot time to heal on its own.
“Look… your body’s aching as if you’ve been working in a field all day… that’s why I’m here to make you feel better,” you return, and his body is clearly starting to relax the more and more your fingers smooth along the base of his neck and back down his shoulders again, soft hums coming from his throat at the sensation.
“But you don’t have to, love…” he says, voice a little weak as the warmth of your touch reeled him into relaxation, “just having you around is making me feel better already…”
“Aww,” you pout facetiously, even though he can’t see it from where he’s sitting, “You missed me, Channie?… Your very own nagging fiancé?…”
“Nooo,” he corrects, turning in his chair now to get a proper look at you, “I missed my beautiful wife to be, and my adoring partner in crime…”
Reaching out a hand, the veins in his arm appear highlighted under the dim studio lighting as he guides your face into his before giving you a kiss that you both smile into… weakly though, considering how it’s literally 4 in the morning...
Breaking from the contact, you tug at his wrist slightly, not letting go until he finally gets up from the chair, letting you lead him to sit on the couch.
The look on his face now very clearly lets you know what’s on his mind, but you simply decide to sit on his lap in a straddle position, wanting him to make the first move from here…
And he did.
“Can I?” He asks while lifting his hands from the couch cushion, hovering them over your hips and being careful not to touch until you allowed him to.
“Of course, silly,” you chuckle, making him blush slightly at your brief fit of laughter.
“It’s not like anyone’s here to tease us for it,” you went on, thinking back to the countless times that your fiancé’s friends (specifically Minho and Han) would outwardly gag whenever you two publicly display affection—
“You’re right, baby… no one’s around to bother us,” Chris breathes in agreement, finally letting his eager hands rest at your hips before adding a bit of pressure as he caressed up your waist and along your thighs, “The two of us could practically get away with doing anything we want for the next few hours in here…”
You didn't even have to ask to know what he was specifically implying, but you decide to play dumb anyway, just because you absolutely loved hearing his strong Aussie accent come out whenever he was sexually worked up with you…
“Takeout’s still waiting to be opened, Chris,” you whisper, letting your nails gently drag against his scalp as he melts into your touch, his silky curls looping around your fingers, “we shouldn’t keep it out for too long or else it might spoil…”
“Well I’m not in the mood to eat anymore,” he whispers back in a raspy voice, and you let your weight sink further into his lap, your bottom resting right above the spot his true hunger was pulling him most.
“Use your words, baby… tell me what you want,” You press, leaving a kiss along his clenched jawline… and another one on his pretty thick lips… and a third one against his Adam’s Apple that makes him groan out loud…
Or maybe his groan had more to do with the way you were also rocking your hips against his clothed hard on, making his hands slightly grip at the fabric of your jeans for any sort of leverage.
“Why… of all the bottoms that you own, did you close to wear tight, denim jeans at a time like this?” He asks with frustration, making you giggle a bit at the way his chest rises and falls every time you circle in his lap, the rough material tantalizing him…
“Don’t you think they make my ass look good, though?” You tease with a pout, watching as he smirks at your question, only to hiss at your movements again.
“They make your ass look great, babe… but they also make it impossible for me to touch you properly…”
He was doing it again, you thought to yourself… That thing where he gets you to do what he wants without specifically asking.
Yes, Chris was a typically a pretty confident guy, but sometimes, you had a way of bringing out his shy, reluctant side when it came to sexual things, but you still found it cute nonetheless.
“Fine, then… since you’re too shy to ask for it properly, I’ll just do it myself,” you say in a bratty tone while getting up from his lap, and he visibly scoffs at the way you stood before him now, fingers meddling with the buckle of your jeans until he stopped you.
“C’mere,” he huffs, pulling you close to him by the belt loop of your jeans until you fall into the couch beside him with a gentle plop.
His smirks again once he finally unzips the rough fabric just enough to see a leak of what’s beneath, and the expression is so wide that his dimples come through…
At first, you’re not sure why he’s a grinning mess, but you understand once his fingers run over the lace of your black panties, the same pair that he brought you a while back on one of his tours cross-country.
“I’ll take a wild guess and say you wore these for me, huh?” He asks with a husk to his tone now that you’re bumping your knee against his clothed hard-on, and his hips subconsciously chase the friction.
“Mhm,” you hum softly, lifting up on your elbows now to look at him better, “I just didn’t expect you to take so long to get ‘em off me…”
“How cute,” he returns, and your eyes follow the veins trailing his forearm, his flexed fingers hooking at either side of your hips before tugging your jeans the rest of the way down and past your ankles with your panties, tucking them under the couch cushion for his private use later…
“Cute?” You repeat with a raised brow, spreading your legs before him as you both watched each others cores intently, practically itching within yourself for him to finally untie his sweatpants.
“Yup. Love it when you get in your little attitudes,” he says plainly, but his smile is half-hearted now as he leans over you, bracing himself with his hands before kissing your forehead.
You try to follow where his eyes are looking, but his bangs are in the way, and you can’t help but ask him what the matter is…
However, he doesn’t answer immediately, simply taking your hands in his and placing a kiss to l the closed knuckles of your left hand, right before pinning your wrist at either side of your head on the couch.
And that’s when it hits you… the reason behind his sudden change in aura:
You forgot to put your engagement ring on…
You had only taken it off for a second before coming to meet him in the studio because some oil from the takeout bag had spilled on your hands… while washing up in the bathroom, you had put the ring in your purse and simply forgot to put it back on…
Though, you knew at this point it’d be worthless trying to get that story through Chan’s thick skull, as he had already made up in his mind that you were playing games with him…
“Where’s your ring, baby?” Your fiancé asks while shimmying down his boxers and trousers with one hand, and you near choke on air at the sight of his glossy and girthy tip springing out before you, red and angry with need.
“I-it’s in my purse,” you stammer, almost feeling guilty now that you had even forgot to put it back on in the first place, “I can go and get it—”
“No need,” he interrupts you, lining himself up with your entrance as the depth of his voice equally catches you off guard, “just make sure you put it back on after this, yea?”
You winced at the sudden stretch of his cock filling you up just right, and your hips are already trembling at the delicious fullness.
“Channie… it slipped my mind, baby… please,” you say, and you’re not quite sure what it is that you’re begging for, but you always had a habit of going dumb around his cock, even if it’s just resting inside you.
“I gave you a simple order, love… now, do you understand me, yes or no?” He asks more sternly this time, thrusting into you with a sharp hit of his hips, and you internally cringe at yourself for hiccuping at the force.
“Y-yes, I understand,” is all you manage to say as he continues slamming his hips into you at a painfully slow pace, looking you dead in the eye as you crumble beneath his intense gaze.
“Say it again,” he orders, and you listen, gripping at his biceps and biting your lip as an attempt to keep your moans in, but the little whimpers and whines end up spilling out anyway.
You can feel Chan's cock twitch inside you every time you say yes for him, especially with the way your walls are throbbing around his length as he groans the words “good girl” in the midst of it all.
“So so good for me,” he continues, grinding his hips in a way that makes his pelvis graze your clit rythmically, and you’re sure you’re seeing stars once his hand finds your neck, just resting it there to get your attention.
“Good enough to let me cum in you, huh?” He questions, but it’s more so of a suggestion than anything, and you oblige to it, nodding your head in desperation as your hips start to follow the movements of his.
“Yes, baby… w-want you to fill me up so bad,” you whimper, and he lets a groan out right after you… one that makes your stomach flutter with emotions given how beautiful it sounded.
“Gonna put a baby in your pretty little stomach,” he huffs in between fucking you open with all his strength, “and at that point, who cares if you don’t have your ring on? Everyone will know who you belong to once your tummy’s all swollen because of me… tell me who this pussy belongs to…”
“Y-you, Channie,” you blabber out pathetically, your own mouth filling with saliva at how amazing he’s making you feel right now.
“Louder…”
“It’s all- fuckkk… yours, b-baby,” you cry out, and it’s a weak cry at that given the way his hand is tightening around your throat, but you don’t mind… not one bit when it feels THIS. Fucking. Good…
He finally lets his lips find yours in a needy kiss, and a string of spit keeps y’all together as he break away to let out a moan of his own, but you’re pulling him back into you, wanting him to be as close as possible to you in this moment.
The couch starts to creak to the rhythm of his movements, and you couldn’t be more thankful for the large cushions it was made with, otherwise you’re certain the both of you would’ve been on the floor at this point.
“Feels so fucking good inside you, baby… sooo fucking good,” he grunts, and you know he’s almost close just from the way his eyebrows are screwing into adorable little crinkles, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier by the second.
“F-fuck~” you mewl against his lips, feeling the knot in your own stomach tighten as his cock hit mesmerizing places inside you.
He keeps his hand snug around your neck while looking into your eyes, and his hips can’t bare to piston into your cunt any longer once your walls clench around him, making him feel dizzy in the head.
“Cum in me,” you plead with a soft voice while, lips puffy from how hard you’d been biting them, and Chan finally lets himself go, barely getting any extra thrusts in before painting your walls with his hot release, groaning shamelessly like a porn star.
“Oh my God,” he grunts with a strained voice, using his last bit of strength to prevent himself from collapsing on top of you given how spent he is now.
“Wait, Channie,” you say, thighs still trembling a bit as he pulled out of you, a bit too early though for you to remind him that his cum would only spill out—
“Shit,” he swears under his breath upon realizing, rushing to catch the fluid spilling from your cunt now with his fingers, trying not to get it on the couch, but to no avail.
He instead lets his fingers push the cum back into you, holding his wrist there until he’s able to reach for a napkin off of his desk to help clean you up.
“Stop that, baby,” he says with a mischievous smile, but only because your walls were sucking his digits in, preventing him from taking them out to clean them off, “give me some time to recharge and then we can go again, okay?…”
All you can bring yourself to do is hum at his words, and he in turn offers you another gentle smile.
Applying light pressure to your lower stomach, he finally gets your walls to release his fingers from the confines of your sloppy hole, wiping the residue off with the napkin.
“Didn’t expect you to cum this much,” you say in a sleepy tone while reaching for your jeans to slide them back on.
“Me neither,” he chuckles, readjusting his pants before getting up to toss the soiled napkin in the bin nearby, “but uh... just know that if in three weeks, we find out that our first future child was conceived on this couch, never tell this story to anyone…”
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⋆♱✮ Huge thanks to everyone who made it to the end of this fic, concluding DAY 2 of my Kinktober Event !! This was also my first time publishing any written work for Stray Kids (my ult group XD) so feel free to tell me how I did in the comments !! Finally, if you're interested in reading more works like this, check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist here by clicking one of these links !!
⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:
@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash
@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl
@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr
⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:
@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs
@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij
@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess
@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier
@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408
also, check out THIS fic NEXT if you're interested in more...
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metranart · 8 months ago
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— HAWKS + DABI + BAKUGO + SHIGARAKI || THINGS THIS LOVESICK BOYS SAY WHEN IN BED WITH YOU
-----------HEADCANONS-----------
HAWKS
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“Oh, my darling...fuck, keep doing that.” 
“You're so beautiful, I'm so glad we found each other.”
“I know I’m a mess-… what else was I supposed to do while waiting to make you mine?” 
“Lay back and let me do all the work. I’ve dreamed of eating your pretty pussy all week.”
“Hey, don’t shy away from me. C’mere-”
“You’re so fuckin’ soft. Shiiit…”
“Hey—no teasing the feathers.”
“I n-need to-... I just-…-I’m going to start moving now.”
“Arms around my neck and legs around my hips— ngh! Gravity is a bitch, I don’t want you falling on me, at least, not literally.”
“What a good mate, you respond to me so well."
“I’m so fuckin’ deep, my pretty girl-”
“Fuck—I can’t... I’m not gonna last-”
“Don’t be embarrassed. I love when you squirt on my face.”
“God I’ve wanted this for so long. I’m going to breed your pussy every day, all day long, even after I’ve knocked you up.”
“We're both getting older, babe, and if we want to have more chicks than stars in the sky, then we need to get started.”
“Tell me you love me-… tell me again.”
“I do get ahead of myself often, but I can’t help it. I just know we belong together-” 
“What do you say we try for a baby this time?”
"You’d be adorable, so swollen and full that you can't walk, that you'd have to rely on me for everything...”
“Touch yourself, c’mon. Let me see how you play the right notes.”
“You're going to be a wonderful mother for my chicks.”
“Let me help you move pretty, put your hands on mine.”
“No one’s gonna hear if I put my hand here… no biting, hun.”
“I’ll make it quick, darling... just—let me… let me go again.”
“Need a hand or a finger?”
“Just wait, baby... Fuuuuck—give me a damn minute.”
“Keep your eyes on me.”
“Arch your back, there you go, such a good girl.”
“Fuck, even after cumming you aren’t ready to accommodate my size. Don’t worry, baby,” he kisses your creased forehead, “—then just the tip this time.”
“Shit, I can’t help it—” you can feel him twitching excitedly inside you. “I just like you so damn much!” He grunts and snaps his hips again, diving deeper. 
“Just bear with me, I swear I’ll eat you for hours after…. Please, pretty, pleaseeeee…” He kept his pace, practically purring with his throaty groans. 
“No matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, I know how to fuck you well, ain’t I, beautiful?” 
“C’mon let me hear you, I can feel you getting tighter… my cock’s rubbing those hard-to-reach places…. Fuck! I- slid in so easily.”
“I’m painfully close-…. Fuck, I don’t want to cum yet…”
 “Is this your sweet spot I’m bullying?” 
“Each thrust is inching you closer… should I slow down or go faster?”
“Deeper? Okey-… just try to keep it together, I have neighbors.” 
“Give me one more. please, just one more baby.”
“Try to keep your eyes open, I know it’s hard…b-but try for me beautiful.”
“Go ahead and sleep, honey, I’m not going anywhere.”
NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON
DABI
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“What’d I did to deserve such a pretty thing like ya?”
“I’ve barely touch you. You really that hot for me, sweetheart?”
“Open your legs, not gonna say it again.”
“Doesn’t hurt, its already scarred skin.”
“If I have to kiss your tears away again, you are gonna get it— I’ve already told ya, it doesn’t hurt anymore-”
“Bury your hands in my hair, yes... Just like that.”
“Stop pushing me away. You’re gonna take it all, don’t make me shove it down your throat.”
“You love to play the feeble act, but your moans give you away, princess.”
“Nuh-uh, you haven’t cum yet.”
“I said ass up.”
“You want it so bad? beg.”
“Take them off before I rip them off of you, doll. Don’t try me.”
“Harder,” he mutters, not a minute after you started. “Harder,” he demands again.
“Could you go any slower? Ride me like you mean it, princess. I know you can.”
“Can barely feel that shit. You gotta do better than that, princess. You know I like it rough.”
“Fuck,” he bit out. “Yes, fuck…. Just like that.”
“Come on pretty girl. Ride me till you’re numb, yeah? Want you to fuck yourself stupid on my cock today.”
“Move my hands again and see what happens-”
“Fuck—” 
“Sorry, baby-… I just had to jump at the opportunity to sink my cock deeper.”
“Sit on it.”
“Worried it won’t fit? We always make it work just fine—”
“I don’t have condoms, they’re annoying.” He grunts the reply, inwardly absorbed with impatience. 
“Don’t move—Just gimme a minute… F-Fuck…”
“You fuckin’ genius, dammit, I love you so damn much! Not even I knew that spot— …” He shakes his head, in disbelief of the pleasure, even more so that you been the one to give it to him.
“Did you do that on purpose, princess? ‘cause now we are doing it every time.” 
“Fuck that. Don’t know if you heard sweetheart, but you were made for me to fuck and breed.”
“Stop it, no more whining—I’ll do my best to be…. gentler.” 
“Really? resist me all you want. I know you love being treated like this.”
“Ridiculous, I could stare at your pretty cunt all day long.” 
“Fuck Yeah! I adore the way your thighs tremble like jelly after you cum.”
“Should I pull out? Nah, better give me a daughter to spoil.”
“Unless you were playing with yourself before I got here, I’m guessing this is because of my pretty face?”
“Over my knee, now.”
“Sure, I love ya— but you are not in charge here, princess. Fuckin’ spread them for me.”
“Want me to spank that pussy? lay on my lap then-”
“One’s never enough, I know my princess’s pussy and its begging for another.”
NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON
BAKUGO (NSFW art teaser here!)
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“Do you want me to fuck you harder, cutie?”
“You can be loud, I love to hear you, (Y/N).”
“I’ve waited so long for this...”
“That’s it... slow and easy—” 
“How much longer you gonna make me wait, baby?”
“You ever take it raw? Get a big load of cum in your pussy? —don’t shy on me, I know you love when I talk dirty to you.”
“Take it off before I tear it off.”
“Baby... please...I hate to beg-”
“Make me wait much longer and I’ll have to fuck you in an alley somewhere.”
“What a naughty little girl I have just to myself.”
“Ugh, so hot and wet.” 
“I said I wanted to eat your pussy, didn’t I? Just sit back and enjoy it, baby girl.”
“I’d hate to stop teasing you right before the fun part.”
“It’s so warm...”
“Who do you belong to?” 
 “Whose pussy is this? Say who you belong to.”
“God, what a good fucking cunt. It keeps clenching on my cock like it’s hungry for more milk. You want that? You want me to fill you up?”
“As you wish, princess.”
“You gonna cum?” 
“Go on, gorgeous. Cum on Daddy’s cock.”
“Fucking take it... take every drop...” 
“Nice and stuffed... all mine... my little slutty girl...”
“I said spread those fuckin’ folds.”
“So wet and tight, but my cock just slides right in. It’s like you were born to take me inside of your cunt.”
“Aren’t you a sight. All blissed out when we aren’t even done.”
“That’s right, darlin’. You didn’t think you could tease me for so long and get away with just one little fuck, did you?”
“Oh, did you think we were finished?”
“Did I stutter or somethin’?”
“Alright, baby girl, you asked for it. Just don’t come crying to me if you can’t move after I’m done with you.”
“Don’t move—Just a sec… F-Fuck…”
“No, this is-this is fine. This is beyond fine. Keep doing it, please.”
“Shit, darling, don’t-” 
“God, you make me so needy. Please.... fuck, please...”
“You feel so wonderful, I might go crazy—"
“More... please, more...”
“Fuck, I’m stretching you so good.”
“God, the thought of you ever doing something like this to anyone else... I can’t stand it.”
“I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again. You’re my precious BABY, now and forever."
NSFW ART OF THIS HEADCANONS IN MY PATREON
SHIGARAKI
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“It isn’t even a ‘might’. I can tell you right now with the utmost certainty that you are MINE.”
“Keep looking into my eyes, don’t you fuckin’ look away…”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head,” He coos in a demeaning tone. “I’ll be your first and your last. Not any of these other NPCs.”
“I can hardly keep my hands to myself, your room or mine.”
“I can do whatever I want to you, I’m player one!”
“I know, I’m keeping track of my digits, don’t worry your pretty head.”
“You are too precious to me to turn to dust, my love.”
“I can’t- I’m dying to breed you, to bury my cock in your wet pussy. Don’t move, I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart.”
“My pants are uncomfortably tight, the fabric’s straining against my throbbing dick, I told you not to put on that dress, dammit” Shigaraki’s practically scratching at the wooden table, surges of arousal shaking him to his core. “Can we go now? Like right NOW?!”
“MY girl, so pretty and needy for my cock.”
“You want him dead. You got it.” Ruby eyes stare through his bangs up at your face in some sort of silent promise. “—Of course, I will. You are my everything.”
“It hurts. I need you to- FUCK, just like that.”
“Fuck, how-how are you this fucking wet and warm inside, fuck, fuck…!”
“Please fuck me.”
“H-hey, I know a fun game we can play together… It’s called ‘how many times can I make you cum all over my cock?’” 
“One point, five points, ten points—Cumming again? Are you shooting for a new high-score, sweetheart?”
“Now... care if I use my mouth on you?”
“Just be good for me, and I’ll take very, very good care of you.”
"Look at you, so worked up over a few couple of fingers, did you miss me that much, sweetheart?" 
“Just looking at you is enough to, oh fuck, drive me wild.”
"So desperate for my cock to stuff you-say it, say you want my cock—ngh!”
"S-Shit,"
"Needy girl, I'll let you have it, be fucking grateful." 
"What? Fainting on me already?"
"Don't let me see you doing this again, or else."
“Just fuck me. I need you, (Y/N), please. Please just fuck bury on me already...! I want it...! I want YOU..!”
“Have it your way then.”
"Keep licking my balls, oh fuck! I’m gonna die—"
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-!"
“You look so pretty choking on my cock.”
“Where do you want it, baby? Mouth, breast, face, pussy… take your pick-”
"Are you close, sweetie?" 
“My feisty little girl. Aren’t you just adorable?”
"Good girl. Give me a minute and I’ll clean up that mess you made." 
“Cum for me. Cum on my cock and show me that you’re mine.”
“I just... wanted to cuddle a little more, is all. Didn’t want to... you know, waste the moment.”
“Don’t you worry, my love. I’ll be sure to give you anything you could ever want and more.” 
“You don’t have to take me all the way into your esophagus, but I expect you to make me cum, and yes, I do want you to swallow.”
“Go on, get on your knees.”
“Ngh, that’s it, keep going...”
“You look so wonderful like this, with your lips wrapped around my cock. I wish I could take a pic for Dabi to swallow his words.” 
“I want you all to myself.”
“H-here it comes...Be sure... to drink... every.. last... drop...YOU ARE FUCKIN’ MINE!!”
I MADE SOME SICK NSFW ART FOR THIS HEADCANONS, YOU CAN CHECK THEM OUT IN MY PATREON. (Along with more MHA nsfw artwork)
7K notes · View notes
sloaneispunk · 26 days ago
Text
“friend or foe”
soft!frontman (hwang in-ho) x you
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when frontman joined the games, he thought it was solely to see gihun fail, but his intentions shifted when a certain player number 455 caught his attention…
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part one
after the first round of voting, half of the room was left speechless, how could majority have voted to stay? the games were inhumane and above the top, was the money worth it anymore?
you headed up back to your bed where you could see everything clearer. the ‘o’s cheering loudly while the ‘x’s stood still as the air hung heavily upon them. then, you saw the player that had caused the majority to overule the ‘x’s… player 001.
he was a tall middle aged man with astonishing features. his hair somehow still styled neatly on his head, leaving only a few strands out of place. his lips curled into a small smirk as he walked past the crowd and seemingly back towards the bunk beds.
you must have been staring for too long because 001 suddenly halted, causing you to lean further down to see what had caused him to stop in his tracks. suddenly, his head snapped up, looking right up at you with that same expression on his face.
‘shit’ you cursed as you threw yourself back onto the bed, back hitting the cold mattress within seconds.
suddenly, a face appeared at the side of your bed, causing you to let out a scream as your hands flew to your mouth, shufflig towards the other end of the bed.
“hi there.”
there he stood, right there at the other end of your bed. player 001’s brown eyes looked so innocently into your own, he now had a bigger, more geniune smile on his face as he waited for a reply.
“you scared me.” you breathed out, still not moving from the edge.
“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to. i noticed you were alone earlier, i hope you don’t mind if i join you since we’re both by ourselves in here.” 001 said with a calm and gentle voice.
“uh.. yeah-”
“i apologise if i’m being too pushy, i just thought a young, pretty girl like you being here alone could be risky. i wanted to make sure that you were alright.” he interrupted. “my name is young-il.”
he stretched out his hand towards you, waiting for your hand in to shake his.
“i’m y/n, nice to meet you.” you replied, still skeptical, but nevertheless you showed your appreciation with a handshake.
oh, right then and there. with your hand in his, the frontman in disguise was heating up. he craved so much more then merely your hand in his. he wanted to touch every part of you, leaving nothing that he had not savoured.
he was brought back into reality when you pulled your hand back, staring at him, waiting for the charismatic man to say yet another inviting sentence to draw you in more.
“i’m afraid i didn’t notice you during the first game.” young-il said.
you shifted on the bed, moving towards the headrest as you beckoned him to the empty space in front of you which he gladly complied.
“during red light, green light?” you asked and he nodded. “i was at the front, guess i didn’t want to take the risk of lagging behind.”
“you must have completed the game pretty fast then.” he stated.
“i had a few minutes left, i spent it trying to help those who were falling behind.” you shrugged.
there it was. that kindess, that compassion. it was exactly what he was looking for. right now he was the big bad wolf licking his lips as he sat watching his prey.
“you have a kind heart, y/n. how did a girl like you end up in this place?”
“just mixed around with the wrong people i guess, i plan to start a new when i get out of here.” you said, full of hope, making him grin.
the two of you spent the night talking, getting closer with every hour that passed. the more young-il talked to you, the more he felt the need to dive deeper, there was so much he wanted, no, needed to know about you. all he needed was time to earn your trust and he would have everything in his control. when you had fallen asleep, young-il checked the surroundings, ensuring that everyone was fast asleep before he walked up towards the masked guards.
“make sure every single one of you nutjobs get this message. whatever you do, do not hurt player 455. if i find a single scratch on her, i will kill you all myself. is that clear?” young-il whispered but was still somehow stern enough for the guards to be taken aback with fear.
things were starting to change with the frontman’s plan, but he could adapt to change right?
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part two
the next day you were awoken by the cheerful song being played on the speakers.
“good sleep? you dosed off halfway during our talk last night.” young-il, chuckled, sitting on the edge of your bed, extending his hand out for you to take.
“were you here all night? my god, you should’ve went back to your bed! you didn’t sleep?!” you scolded as you took his hand.
he let out a laugh and helped you onto your feet.
“it’s no worries, y/n, i wasn’t tired.”
“so you watched me like a creep while i slept?”
“i- y-yeah, no! i mean n-no-”
“i’m kidding.” you cut the poor man off, “thank you.”
“yeah, of course.” he replied. “c’mon, let’s see what game we’re playing today.”
“ladies and gentleman, please follow in an orderly fashion to your next game.”
as you and young-il followed the crowd into the colorful, long, windy staircase.
“what if the next game is difficult, young-il?” you asked, following behind as he kept you close even when walking.
“hey, it’s okay, nothing will happen to us. i’ll make sure of it.” he smiled, pausing in his steps momentarily for you to walk beside him.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part three
when you entered the room, you realised it was much smaller than the room for ‘red light, green light’. this one however, had two large rainbow circles on the floor and 5 tables spaced equally around.
“this game will be played in groups of 5, the game will commence in 10 minutes.”
your eyes shot to young-il. before you could say anything, 3 men came up to you and young-il. “hey man, would you want to join our group?”
3 men stood behind young-il, player 390, player 388 and player 456.
“why not? me and y/n can-”
“oh… we were looking for a team of men.. i’m sorry but your friend can’t join us.” player 390 interrupted.
“no.” young-il said sternly. he wasted no time arguing and instead took your hand and walked away.
after searching for other groups that would take you both in, you realised it was useless. no one really wanted a girl in their group and you couldn’t blame them. you stopped and sighed, causing young-il to turn around.
“young-il, it’s useless. you should join them. i’ll find others, we don’t have time.” you sighed, beckoning him to leave before time ran out for the both of you.
“no. i can’t garuntee your safety that way.”
“you don’t have to. it’ll be fine i’ll see you when the game is over.”
“c’mon, y/n i-”
“miss?” a voice said from behind you. “we need one more person for our team, would you want to join us?”
it was a sweet old lady, behind her stood 2 girls, player 120 and player 095.
“mom did you find someone?” a man jogged towards the old woman. “oh great, okay just in time.”
“come dear, who says women can’t win this stupid game.” she grumbled, taking your hand and leading you towards her group.
“i’ll be fine.” you smiled, leaving young-il standing alone with worry in his eyes. with much hesistation, young-il let you go, joining the team of men without you.
“you, hey! come join us! let’s win this!” player 456 cheered, inviting young-il back into the group.
“time is up, please sit down in your groups… this is a six legged race where you will have to complete 5 mini games individually while being chained to each other. the games played will be ddakji, flying stone, gonggi, spinning top and jegi. please order yourself in which you will be playing the games in.”
a sense of unease set in in young-il. he searched the room to find you. even if he was worried, he couldn’t show it on the outside, it would be too risky for you and for him. he remained calm as he scanned the room for you, eyes eventually landing on your face from across the room.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part four
“we’re lucky we have many girls in this team! which games are you familiar with?” the old lady asked, looking at you.
“oh i’m not really sure, why don’t you guys pick first?” you replied embarrassed, an awkward smile plastered on your face.
as the others discussed which game they were going to play you looked around, searching for young-il once more. when you finally spotted him at the far end, you gave him a small smile and a wave, seeing how he was already looking at you.
“so i’ll play ddakji, your son will play flying stone, ma’am you’ll play gongi, ms 455 will play spinning top and ms 120 you will play jengi. is that alright?” player 095 said, looking around for approval from the group.
when the game started, your team was the first. you took your place on the rainbow with your team, all equally as nervous as you were.
“hey we’re gonna be okay, we’ll win easily.” you said offering a smile to the team.
“yes! we can do it ladies! oh and you too son.” the old lady said.
a gunshot fired in the air, indicating the start of the game.
“hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!” every grunted in synchronicity, moving rather quickly to the first station.
the other players were up on their feet, following around the circle as they cheered.
1. ddakji
player 095 closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
piak!
the sound of the paper slapping on the ground echoed through the room, she opened her eyes and looked down. it flipped.
“first try! let’s go!” player 120 cheered.
“pass”
“hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!”
2. flying stone
“son, just imagine. that rock is the face of the dealer that screwed you over.” the old lady said to her son making the rest of you snicker.
“you son of a bitch! give me my money back!” the man yelled as he threw the rock. without even trying, he managed to hit the other rock down.
“pass”
“holy shit! you did it!” you exclaimed. “let’s go! quick!” you exclaimed practically jumping in place.
hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!
3. gonggi
“come, come! sit down everyone, i need to concentrate.” the old lady said.
she picked up the first few pieces with ease, but couldn’t catch the last one causing her to start over.
that must have struck a nerve because every try after that was not a sucess.
“mom. you said you played gonggi with bullets in the korean war, you can do it.” her son said. “picture it as dad’s face-”
“you imbecile!” she yelled as she picked all the pieces up again, putting them down and picking them up once more with ease.
“pass”
4. spinning top
young-il cheered like the rest, maybe even more. he was holding his breath with every step you took. even as the frontman, he wasn’t sure why he was anxious for a player like you to win. it was very unlike him but he had to admit it felt good.
he watched as you coiled the rope around the spinning top. he could see your hands shaking as everyone’s eyes burned holes into you.
with two minutes left on the clock you trusted your instincts and drew your hand back, carefully flicking your wrist. the spinning top flew through the air, with a soft bang it landed on the ground, spinning perfectly.
“pass”
“she did it!” young-il shouted, causing a roar of cheers to erupt as your team moved towards the last and final game.
hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!
5. jegi
“can everyone look away? i just need some concentration.” player 120 asked. everyone including your team turned to look away, even with the time left, you were shaking with fear. one wrong move and you could leave this game as easy as you came in.
everyone remained quiet as you listened for the sound of the shoe and jegi coming into contact.
“one.”
“two.”
“three.”
“four.”
“five.”
“oh! we did it! that was five!” the old woman shouted.
you looked up seeing the guard makinga circle up with his arms.
“pass”
“let’s go! let’s go!”
with that, your team was let go. relief overwhelmed you as you passed the finish line. as the guards unchained your legs, you turned to the crowd finding young-il easily.
you offered him a smile and a little wave, making him do the same.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part five
when it was young-il’s turn his team took place at the start of the line.
“well, it’s a little sad that we don’t have an audience.” player 390 sighed.
“no, it’s good. we don’t have distractions.” player 388 replied.
throughout the game, there was one thing on young-il’s mind, getting back to you. he couldn’t wait for another of your late night conversations. the stupid smile you had when he cracked a horrible joke.
he knew that the game was designed so that there couldn’t be many mistakes made each round. when he joined it was merely for the thrill of it, also the fact that he wanted to see player 456 suffer. but now he knew he had to play the games thoroughly and right, he knew he had to do this to keep his promise to endure your safety.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part six
you waited anxiously on your bed as more groups came in, but not young-il. it was nerve wrecking, with every group that came in, somehow the number of player became lesser. it was made clear that not everyone was made to pass.
a few minutes later, the metal door swung open again.
the final group walked in, player 456, player 388, player 390, another player you hadn’t seen before player 222 and young-il.
young-il didn’t waste any time, he jogged back to your bed, seeing your smile widen as he came close. before he had the chance to say anything, you pulled him into a hug, wrapping your hands around his neck tightly as he bent down onto your bed.
“oh my god, you did it! i was so scared, i-i was so worried-”
“hey, it’s okay. it’s okay, i was worried sick too.” he chuckled, taking a seat beside you on the bed.
“i thought the team didn’t want a girl? how did she manage to get in?” you asked, pointing to player 222 who was now with the rest, talking and laughing.
“she was heavily pregnant. we didn’t have a choice, i’m so sorry they didn’t take you in.” he apologised as you shook your head.
“it’s okay, i understand. don’t worry. i’m just glad you made it.” you said, leaning so close that you could feel his bodyheat.
“you know… when i was playing the spinningtop, i couldn’t for the life of me figure out how you did it in one try!”
“of course, an old man like you comparing yourself to me?” you gasped sarcastically, making him laugh.
“yea right, come on says the one who’s almost lying on me.”
you jerked back, you hadn’t even noticed.
“i’m so sorry, are you uncomfortable? i can mov-”
“hey, i’m playing around. come back, you can do whatever you want. i’m just a makeshift pillow for you.”
you sneered and laid your head on his shoulder, legs tangled together on the bed as you could feel the rhythm of his breathing match yours.
“thank you, young-il.” you whispered, your hand finding his, squeezing it to show your appreciation.
young-il looked down to your hand in his and raised it to his lips, giving it a gentle peck. “anytime, y/n.”
whethere he liked it or not, the game had hit a big obstacle. as the frontman he needed to balance between running the games and keeping it safe for you, and preventing player 456 from infiltrating.
even so, he knew the dangers of the next game. ‘mingle’ was one set out to kill, his plans were all falling apart. frontman realised that keeping you came with a cost, and it was one he was willing to pay.
2K notes · View notes
kateschi · 29 days ago
Text
back in action
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synopsis: being the wife of bakugou katsuki comes with multiple benefits, one of which is a front-row seat to his scrumptious back.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: i know at least 2/3 of you have seen that figurine
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you swear there’s no better sight in this world than katsuki bakugou’s back.
not the view from your honeymoon suite in santorini, not the sparkling ocean from your vacation in okinawa—hell, not even the perfect strawberry shortcake you baked last weekend.
no, none of that compares to the sheer beauty that is your husband’s ridiculously broad, wonderfully sculpted, unfairly muscular back.
the way his muscles shift under his skin when he moves? art.
the ripple of strength as he stretches? divine.
the faint sheen of sweat glistening on his shoulders after an intense workout? a masterpiece.
and, as if the gods of attractiveness hadn’t blessed him enough, the scars that mark his skin only add to his allure.
each one tells a story of battles fought and won, of heroism that the world praises but he humbly shrugs off. to you, those scars aren’t just symbols of strength—they’re proof of his resilience, his dedication, his heart.
so, yes. you are absolutely obsessed with your husband’s back, and no, you don’t care how shameless that makes you.
“katsuki,” you call from the couch, chin propped up on your hands as you shamelessly watch him rummage through the fridge.
he’s in nothing but a pair of loose sweatpants, the waistband hanging dangerously low on his hips, and his shirt? nowhere to be found.
a completely intentional choice on his part, because he knows exactly how weak you are for him like this. “did anyone ever tell you that you’ve got the best back in the entire universe?”
he pauses, a carton of orange juice in one hand and an eyebrow raised in your direction. “you tell me that every damn day.”
“well, I mean it every damn day.”
he rolls his eyes but doesn’t bother hiding the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “you’re such a weirdo.”
“damn right,” you shoot back, grinning when he snorts. “come here. let me look at it properly.”
“what, my back?” his expression is one part exasperation, two parts amusement as he shuts the fridge and leans against the counter, arms crossed. “the hell do you need to ‘look’ at it for?”
“because it’s a work of art, obviously,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “and I haven’t had my daily dose of admiring you yet.”
he groans, dragging a hand down his face like you’re the most exhausting person on the planet, but he still walks over to you without another word. you can tell he’s secretly enjoying this, though.
“alright, idiot. knock yourself out.” he turns around, presenting you with the full, glorious view of his back.
your eyes immediately light up. “oh my god, it’s perfect.”
“it’s a back,” he deadpans.
“no, no, no. it’s the back,” you insist, reaching out to lightly trace your fingers along the curve of his shoulder blades.
he tenses slightly under your touch—his body always reacts before his mind can catch up—but quickly relaxes as you continue your impromptu “admiration session.”
“you’ve got no idea how unfair this is,” you mumble, running your hands down the defined lines of his lats. “how am I supposed to focus on anything when you look like this?”
“you’re ridiculous.” he’s shaking his head, but you can hear the way his voice softens, the way the edges of his usual gruffness smooth out when he talks to you like this.
it’s a few days later, and you're lounging on the couch, flicking through your phone when you hear him coming from the hallway, the sound of his footsteps heavy and deliberate.
katuski’s been in the gym for a couple of hours, and you can already hear the deep exhale he lets out as he moves closer, his breath still heavy from the workout.
"guess who's back," you say, looking up just in time to see him walking into the living room, wearing only a towel around his waist, his body glistening with sweat from his workout.
he pauses for a moment when he sees your face—wide-eyed and full of admiration, already zeroing in on that perfect, chiseled back. his muscles tense as he moves, and you feel your heart skip a beat.
"really?" he says, voice dripping with disbelief. "you still on about this?"
“can’t help it,” you say, setting your phone aside and leaning back against the cushions, fully prepared to watch him, unashamed. "I’m just amazed that someone like you exists in the world."
katuski rolls his eyes, but there's a soft chuckle that escapes him, betraying his indifference. "yeah, well, quit starin'."
"I can’t help it," you reply, your voice a playful purr as you look him up and down. "I mean, who else looks this good after a workout?"
he tilts his head to the side, his signature scowl starting to form, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“quit actin’ like I’m some kinda showpiece, alright?” he grumbles, though you can hear the lighthearted edge to his voice.
you laugh, clearly enjoying yourself too much. "sorry, can’t help it.”
later that week, you and katuski are out on patrol, both suited up in your respective hero uniforms.
it's business as usual—rescuing civilians, stopping some petty criminals, and making sure the city is safe.
the sun’s setting, painting the skyline in beautiful oranges and purples, but you're still laser-focused on one thing: his back.
it's a total accident—really, it is—but when you're standing next to him after you’ve just subdued a villain, you can't help but sneak a glance at the broad expanse of his back.
you feel that familiar pull to reach out, to trace the powerful lines of his shoulder blades again.
“don’t even think about it,” he warns, his voice low and gruff as he catches the glint of mischief in your eyes.
you smile innocently, taking a step closer. "what? I was just going to—"
"not here. we’re in the damn public," katuski growls, his sharp gaze snapping to yours as his fingers tighten around his gauntlet. "you really think I’m gonna let you paw at me in front of everyone?"
you laugh, unbothered by his obvious annoyance. "I’m not pawing at you, I’m admiring you. there's a difference, katsuki."
his jaw tightens as he glares at you, his usual frown deepening. "that’s the same damn thing."
you can’t help but grin, even though he’s clearly not having it.
but, deep down, you know that katuski secretly loves it. sure, he’s tough and grumpy in front of the public, but you both know how soft he gets when you're alone, how he indulges you without hesitation.
so, you take one last daring step forward, placing a hand on his shoulder, letting your fingers brush along the fabric of his uniform.
he’s about to bark at you to stop, but you just flash him a quick, mischievous grin, and that’s all it takes for him to roll his eyes, muttering under his breath, "unbelievable."
and katsuki was right in his reprimand cause you were breaking the headlines the very next day.
for all the wrong reasons.
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kofi — navigation — masterlist
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do not copy, translate, or plagarize
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luvyeni · 3 months ago
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( reaction ) riize when you’re ovulating ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 라이즈 ՞
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⸃ ⸰ ⌁  using riize when you’re ovulating ヾ
OT7!라이즈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ ‎ wc ・ ‎1k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library
request. hear me out ☝ riding Riize and using them like a toy or whatever you want because you're ovulating.....
「 ୨୧ authors note 」 <3 !!!
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﹙ 𐙚 : shotaro ﹚ .ᐟ
your ovulation week really puts his dancers' stamina to the test , but he does keep up – ready to be used by you whenever you need him. “again baby?” he smiled as you climbed into his lap. “so-sorry taro , but i need you.” the feeling of your warm cunt suffocating his cock. “fuck , don’t worry baby , take what you want love.” lets you move on your own pace , just sitting back , toying with your sensitive nipples. “fuck baby you feel good?” he was smiling as you used him , he loved this. “so sensitive baby , you gonna cum again?” you nodded , legs tired as you came , but that didn’t stop you. “taro , need you.” he sprung into action , wrapping his arms around your waist fucking up into you. “fuck taro im gonna cum.” it’s not about if he cums when you’re ovulating it’s about calming you down for a while , and if that means letting you use him to cum then he’s down forsure.
“that’s it baby , i know you want to cum again , cum for me.”
﹙ 𐙚 : eunseok ﹚ .ᐟ
the only time he’ll let you do what you want — but that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t have control of the situation. “slow down now.” he commanded , you whined , your clit grinding against his pelvis. “fuck , I said slow down.” he slapped your ass. “seok please.” you whined , holding his shoulders. “listen here.” he grabbed your cheeks, you finally slowed down. “just because you’re ovulating doesn’t mean you can act like a disobedient slut.” he let your face go. “o-okay.” you moaned , he tapped your ass. “good , now keep going.” you resumed bouncing on his cock , his tip kissing your cervix. “yeah fuck just like that.”
“that’s it keep bouncing on my dick like a good girl and i’ll let you cum as much as you want.”
﹙ 𐙚 : sungchan ﹚ .ᐟ
he loves this, he wants you to do this, use his cock, milk him for all that he has and then more. sex when you’re ovulating is the best sex in his eyes ( even tho it doesn’t matter ) it last for hours and almost every day … he’s in heaven. “oh fuck you’re killing me baby.” he chuckled , his head sticking to his forehead due to swear as you sunk down in his cock for like the 5th time , already full of his past loads. “fu-fuck im gonna shoot blanks if you keep going.” your sweet cunt clenching around him. “we-we can stop.” he slapped your ass making you yelp. “did I ask you to fucking stop?” so you didn’t you actually sped up. “yes fuuuuck.” his hand coming back down to your ass again. “that’s it.”
“keep going , use my fucking cock.”
﹙ 𐙚 : wonbin ﹚ .ᐟ
now this little fucker is a tease, he knows you’re hornier than normal because you’re ovulating, but he just can’t help but tease you. “no don’t move yet.” you whimpered out. “stop it.” he had been holding you down on his cock, feeling him twitching inside of you. “i need to fuck you.” you moved your hips against his wishes , he chuckled at your neediness. “need to fuck me?” he groaned watching your precious cunt suck him in. “so slutty baby.” he said , slapping your ass as you bounced on him, legs slap against his. “using my cock , fuck , humping me like a bunny in heat.” you moaned. “is that what you are? a slutty bunny wanting to use my cock to get off?” you nodded , “yes , please fuck!” he slapped your ass , signaling you speed up.
“then speed up slut, ride my cock like you mean it.”
﹙ 𐙚 : seunghan ﹚ .ᐟ
wants to treat you like a princess when you’re ovulating; but knows you like to take control when you’re ovulating so he lets you — at least that’s what you think. “baby slow down.” he said softly, holding your waist. “i'm not going anywhere princess.” you whined as you held his shoulders, his cock stretching you out just how you wanted him too. “just want to fuck you.” he chuckled, kissing your bust tenderly , you nipples sensitive. “you feel good, baby.” he said , he’d hold off on cumming simply so you could continue. “fuck hannie im gonna cum.” he let you cum , but you kept going. “fu-fuck baby.” he groaned. “hannie im gonna cum again.” you were insatiable but he knew you’d calm down eventually. “go a head princess.”
“cum all you want.”
﹙ 𐙚 : sohee ﹚ .ᐟ
sohee ears and his cock stands up the moment you randomly told him that you were ovulating. “lay down.” you told him, and he obey — because why wouldn’t he? you unbuckled his pants, ridding them of his bottoms along with your bottoms. “so pretty baby.” he groaned as you stroked his cock, sinking down on him. “oh fuck use me baby.” you began to move you hips , bouncing on his length. he was more of a mess than you were , you were using his cock as your own personal toy , you had been at it for about an hour and you didn’t seem to have any plans on stopping any time soon. “oh fuck baby.” he whined , throwing head back in pleasure. “fuck.”
“just keep using my cock , keep making yourself cum on me.”
﹙ 𐙚 : anton ﹚ .ᐟ
gives you exactly what you want , no fighting. he just lays back and allows you to do what you want to do. “o-oh fuck.” he moaned. “fuck baby this feels so good.” your hand was wrapped around his neck lightly not choking him as you rode his cock. both of you were lowkey fucking each other out , this always happened when you were ovulating and he loved it. he’s a dom , but he loves when you take what you want from him. “wait baby fuck.” he moaned , the room was hot , and both of you were sweaty — and anton was spent, you had milked him dry , but you weren’t letting up. “fuck baby i don’t think i can cum again.” you whimpered , still needing his cock even if you were already stuffed full of him. “pl-please one more , just one more.” you moaned. “fuck im gonna cum.” he was sure he was gonna start shooting blanks soon , but he allowed you to keep going.
“fuck baby keep going if you want.”
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©️LUVYENI
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whytheylosttheirminds · 4 months ago
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Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 6 (part two)
(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.1k words)
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series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.
tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder
series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues
⇢ series masterlist
additional chapter cw! suggestive moments, mature readers only please!
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You and Carter didn’t fight, it just didn’t happen.
Like any sisters, you got on each other’s nerves, you disagreed on things, you borrowed each other’s clothes without asking - but you didn’t fight. 
Growing up, your parents fought all the time. You and Carter would sit in her bedroom and listen to music, talking and laughing and pretending not to hear. Ever since then, you had a silent agreement; you didn’t fight and you never raised your voices at each other.
The problem with this system was that you were never quite sure when she was upset with you. Your stomach churned the whole rest of your shower, as she stood uncharacteristically quiet at the bathroom sink and did her makeup.
Maybe she hadn’t heard you, or maybe she had just hated your words so much that she couldn’t even respond to them. You knew she wouldn’t like it when you admitted that you’d be with Rafe if he asked you, but pretending it had never been said seemed particularly childish. 
A little while later, you sat on a stool in front of the bathroom mirror as she did your hair and makeup. You found your eyes continually drifting up to her, searching for any sign of anger. When a full half-an-hour passed and she still hadn’t responded to your comments about Rafe, you broke down and asked, “are you mad at me?”
“For what?” She scrunched her eyebrows.
“For what I said in the shower,” you wrung your hands in your lap, not sure you wanted the answer.
“Bitch, you know I have the short term memory of an ant, you’re gonna have to give me more to work with.”
You laughed at her bluntness, the lightheartedness of her words relaxing you enough to face your fear.
“What I said about Rafe,” you said. “That I’d be with him if he asked me to.”
She paused her work on your hair, setting the brush down and meeting your eyes in the mirror.
“When did you say that?” She twisted her lips.
“When you came back in, while I was in the shower.”
She shook her head, “must’ve been talking to someone else because I’ve definitely never heard you say that. I feel like I would’ve remembered something so insane.”
You looked down at your hands in your lap, playing the whole thing back in your mind. You had definitely heard someone come in, the door squeaking at their arrival. That means someone else in the house was walking around with your deepest secret. And now Carter knew it too.
“Oh,” you said. “Never mind then.”
“Yeah right, you really think I’m just gonna move on from that?” Carter put her hands on her hips.
“We could just pretend I never said anything,” you shrugged.
“Yes you know me,” Carter rolled her eyes, “I’m famous for letting things go and being super chill when I hear someone say something batshit crazy.”
You sighed, “okay fine, but what you didn’t hear was me following the statement up by saying I know I shouldn’t be with him ‘cause I’d probably hate myself the whole time.”
Carter started working on your hair again, her contorted face betraying her attempt to act casual.
“Please just say whatever you’re thinking,” you urged her.
“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” she replied.
You snorted, “since when?”
“I just, like, ugh,” she dropped her head back in frustration. “Why him? Like I’ve never understood. What is it about him?”
“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I’ve never really known. He’s just…”
“Arrogant, selfish, a bully…” she finished your sentence for you.
“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head.  
“Just be careful, okay?” She placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting your eye in the mirror. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”
“I know,” you nodded. “I will be.”
“If Rafe Cameron has zero haters then I am dead,” she concluded.
“I know that too,” you smiled.
Carter leaned past you to collect a couple bobby pins from the bathroom sink, her shirt slipping slightly off her shoulder and revealing a patch of deep purple marks.
“Oh my god,” you squealed. “Are those hickies?!”
She dragged her shirt back over her shoulder defensively.
“No! I fell!”
“Uh-huh, right onto Topper’s mouth apparently!” You poked her side, teasing her.
“Shut up,” she smiled and you cackled. 
After that, the Rafe conversation was dropped as you pressed Carter for more details on her hook up with Topper. She tried to play cool, but you could tell there was something more going on under the surface that she didn’t want to say. You decided to be patient, if she was going to finally come to terms with her feelings for him, she was going to do it all on her own.
When she was finally done with your hair and makeup, you inspected yourself in the mirror. 
“Baddie,” she winked at you.
You blushed, “alright let’s go, the boys are probably waiting.”
Carter stood back and crossed her arms, giving you an incredulous look.
“What?” You questioned.
“You’re not wearing that.”
You looked down at your outfit, a crop top, black jeans, and boots. You thought it was a perfectly acceptable clubbing outfit, but Carter clearly disagreed.
“Why not?”
“We’re going out to, like, clubs. In downtown Miami. You gotta stunt on ‘em a little bit,” she argued.
“I am! Look how tight these jeans are,” you did a spin to display your point.
“Good thing I brought the perfect dress in your size for just such an occasion,” she ignored you.
“Oh okay so this was a premeditated makeover?” You smiled.
She ran down the hall to her room and returned with a lacy, red minidress. Knowing you’d lose any argument you posed, you changed into it reluctantly. The corset top hugged your waist, pushing your chest up. Your shoulders slumped instinctually, like you could hide away in yourself. You’d come a long way on your self-love journey, but your self-doubt still crept in from time to time. 
As per usual, Carter sensed it right away.
“Shoulders back, head up,” Carter reminded you. “Let ‘em know.”
You took a deep breath, nodding in the mirror, choosing to leave your insecurities behind. You’d borrow her faith in you for just one night.
As Carter, Maddie and Sabrina did their final touch ups and compared outfits, you pulled on your heels and headed downstairs. The other girls didn’t seem concerned with punctuality, but you were sure Topper was probably freaking out about how long they were taking.
It wasn’t Topper you found in the kitchen, though. 
Rafe stood at the sink with his back to you, his black button up pulled taught over his defined back muscles as he stared off into space and the cup in his hand overflowed.
You smiled, holding your shoulders back as Carter had taught you, bracing for him to see you in this dress.
“Thirsty?”
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He felt his resolve break with the rest of his brain, dizzy and drowning in the sight of you. He had the ridiculous urge to shield his eyes, like he was hiding them from the sun, your beauty too overwhelming to gaze directly at.
He set the glass down on the counter, drying his hands with a nearby towel, never once breaking eye contact with you.
Licking his lips quickly, he shamelessly let his eyes drag over your bare legs and up your body, knowing full well you could see him take in every inch of you. He didn’t care, he needed you to understand what you were doing to him.
When his eyes finally landed on yours, he clenched his jaw tight, nostrils flaring with his rising pulse. He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, telling you silently: you’re killing me.
“You like it?” You whispered, running your hands over the lacy fabric.
Rafe opened his mouth to answer, planning something along the lines of “do I like it? Are you fucking kidding me?” but before he could, the rest of the girls came clamorring down the stairs behind you, stealing the moment. 
At the sound of clicking heels and giggles, the rest of the boys came filing into the room.
Rafe gave you one more longing look before handing Kelce the glass of water. Kelce tried to protest, but Rafe shoved it in his hands anyway.
“We’re not leaving ‘til you drink it,” Rafe scolded him.
“Taking over Topper’s mom duties?” Maddie laughed at the exchange.
“No, Rafe’s much more dad vibes,” Carter countered.
“Yes and mom and dad will be pissed if our Ubers leave, so let’s go children,” Topper herded the group toward the front door. 
Rafe took the now empty glass from Kelce and left it in the sink, and you lingered back for a second, pretending to fix your shoe so you’d both end up at the back of the pack. He watched as you bent down and fiddled with the slingback, hovering close when you stood.
“Nice dress,” he mumbled down to you.
“You think so?” You twisted your lips to keep from beaming at him, trying to maintain some semblance of nonchalance.
“There’s not much of it,” he teased, scratching the back of his head as he looked down over the lacy fabric. “But yeah, it’s nice.”
“You gonna give me the ‘you’re not leaving the house in that, young lady’ treatment?” You pressed him. “You really are like the dad.”
“Why? Would you change if I told you to?” He asked skeptically.
“Not a fucking chance,” you scoffed, swinging your hips as you spun and made for the front door.
He was really planning on staying away from you? What a fucking joke. He followed you out of the house like you had him on a leash. He was in for a long night.
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It took all of five minutes for Carter to grab Topper’s hand and pull him to the corner of the club, and it took even less time for their close talking to become a full on makeout.
You smirked at them as you ordered another drink, knowing you’d need something to help you get through this evening if Carter wasn’t going to be by your side. You could feel Tom’s eyes on you as he approached from the other side of the bar.
The whole Uber here, Tom had been eyeing you in the rear view mirror from the front seat. The only stare that made you more uncomfortable was Sabrina’s. It couldn’t be more clear that she’d grown attached to him on their jet ski ride, laughing loud at his unfunny jokes and hovering in his vicinity all night. You had unwittingly fallen into a love triangle you wanted nothing to do with.
You could feel his attempt to hit on you before he even spoke.
“Put her drink on my tab,” Tom told the bartender. 
“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” you said, not wanting to give him any openings.
“Not a problem,” he said. “I know I’ve been kind of a jerk today, the least I can do is buy you a drink to say sorry.”
The bartender handed you the glass, and you immediately took a sip, fiddling with the straw uncomfortably.
“Sorry for what?” You feigned ignorance.
“Last night, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird,” he said, stepping closer to you. He clearly couldn’t see the irony that he was apologizing for making you feel weird while actively making you feel weird. “I just think you’re really cool and I wanted to get to know you better.”
He was crowding your space now, the scent of his heavy cologne choking your senses. Just a few days ago, you found the same smell enticing, but now, there was only one person you wanted standing this close.
Your eyes flicked over Tom’s shoulder, scanning the crowd for him. You found him leaning against the wall, Kelce talking to him emphatically about something you couldn’t hear. You didn’t have to get his attention, his eyes were already on you. Tight lipped smile, you flicked your eyes between him and Tom, trying to communicate your need for his assistance.
Rafe didn’t need anything more to understand what you were asking, tuned in to your every move and sensing your need for him before you even caught his eye. He pushed off the wall and left Kelce talking to no one so he could shove his way through the crowd. Taller than almost everyone, you tracked him the whole way through the sea of people. Tom seemed none the wiser, continuing hitting on you.
“Maybe we could get out of here,” Tom suggested, leaning in a little too close so you could hear him over the music.
“Nah, not tonight bro.” 
Rafe appeared by your side just in time, forcing Tom to take a step back as he draped his arm over your shoulders possessively. Tom’s eyes flew between the two of you as you reached up to the hand on your shoulder and threaded your fingers with Rafe’s. Relief swelled through your body as Tom stepped back. You leaned into Rafe’s hold more, wrapping your arm around his waist and giving him a grateful squeeze. You knew he felt it when you saw his mouth perk up at the corners. But he didn’t take his eyes off Tom, his work here unfinished.
“Since when are you two together?” Tom puzzled defensively.
“Look man, why don’t you go find, uh, Sabrina,” Rafe waved him off. “Or literally any other girl here.”
As if Rafe’s suggestion had summoned her, Sabrina appeared at Tom’s side.
“Oh my god,” she slurred, eyes red and glossy with intoxication. “Are y’all a thing now? Girl, I never thought you’d actually do it. Good for you!”
It had the cadence of women supporting women, but the undertone was clear. You didn’t miss the disbelief in her tone, subtly trying to cut you down while appearing to lift you up. If Carter was here, she’d bitch her out. But you didn’t need saving from this one.
You tightened your hold on Rafe’s hand, swinging his arm from around your shoulders but not letting go. You pulled him away from Tom and Sabrina, leading him deep into the crowd on the dancefloor. 
Before he had the chance to ask what you were doing, you placed his hands on your waist, spinning in his grasp until your back was flush with his chest and moving to the music. He made no protest, squeezing you between his hands and swaying along with you. Tom and Sabrina watched from across the room, his jaw clenched and her arms crossed.
After a few minutes, both sets of eyes eventually left you, but you didn’t notice, and you didn’t stop. It wasn’t for show anymore. You closed your eyes as you continued to let the music move you. Rafe’s strong arms on either side of you, your brain flashed images of his half naked body in the kitchen and how he kneeled in front of you in the basement. The same fingertips that had so gently caressed your calf were now burrowing into the soft flesh of your hips. One of your arms stretched up, your palm finding the back of his neck, kneading his skin as you clung to him.
When you looked up to meet his eyes, they were ablaze with pure lust. Your lips parted to tell him you felt it too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Instead you showed him, your body moving through the music like water. The bass pumped through your chest, tangling with your thumping heart beat until you couldn’t tell which was which. 
Rafe held you tight against him, like if he let you go you might slip under the waves again. His head sank low, until the tip of his nose was grazing just over the curve of your neck. He was hardly moving, not so much dancing as swaying, letting you do the work his eyes drank in every inch of your body.
With a precise roll of your hips, you pushed against him, and you nearly gasped at the feeling of something hard and demanding pressing into your hip. Your lips twisted with the sweetest satisfaction.
“Thought you were trying to be a gentleman,” you said over the music.
“I was,” he brought his lips to your ear so you could hear him. “But you’re making it too fucking hard.”
Smirking, you twisted in his arms until you were facing each other. You both caught the accidental euphemism and met eyes, breaking into matching laughter.
“You know what I mean,” he rolled his eyes.
“I don’t think I do,” you teased with a quirked eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”
His smile fell, as did his hands, lowering from your waist to your hips. You reached both arms up, wrapping around his neck and lacing your fingers behind him. 
His eyes swept over your face as he whispered, “you look so-”
“Cute?” 
You meant it in jest, but he didn’t laugh. His eyes darkened and his jaw clenched as he took you in, serious as hell when he said,
“So fucking beautiful.”
You shuddered in his arms, and he ran his hand down your exposed back, tracing his fingers delicately over your spine.
“Been driving me crazy since I saw you on the beach,” he continued.
His hand kept falling lower, though it slowed as it reached your lower back, asking for permission with his hesitancy. Your body arched into him without even thinking about it. His palm glided over your ass, the soft fabric of your dress and your plush flesh beneath it pulling an involuntary groan from him. He went lower still, slotting his fingers in the crease where your ass meets your thigh, lingering, setting up camp like he’d stay there all night if you let him. He found the spot so deliberately that you knew he’d been thinking about it for days. 
You waited with baited breath, your silence inviting him to keep talking. 
All he said next was your name. It was low and needy, like a request, or maybe a warning. Flames erupted in your stomach and sent a hot blush sweeping across your body.
“Do you…” your throat tightened with vulnerability, “do you want to go somewhere?”
Yes, Rafe thought, anywhere, for any amount of time.
But there was a small voice in the back of his head giving him pause. Your voice, earlier today in the shower, when you thought you were talking to someone else.
“I don’t want you to hate yourself,” he shook his head, sad eyes falling from your face to his shoes.
You tilted your head as you examined him, unsure for a moment what he meant. Then it clicked, realizing those were your words on his lips. He was the one who heard you in the bathroom. You fought the temptation to run away in embarrassment when you remembered what else he must’ve heard. 
After all you’d admitted to, the piece he was clearly holding onto was the only part you didn’t actually mean. You had added the detail about hating yourself when you thought you were talking to Carter and that she was upset with you.
It was too much to explain to him there on the crowded dance floor. You slipped your hand into his and pulled him from the crowd, out a side door and into the alleyway.
Once outside, you tucked your hair behind your ears and looked down anxiously at your feet. The loss of the music and the sobering night air weakened the boldness you had mustered inside.
“When you said we should go somewhere I wasn’t picturing so much garbage,” Rafe motioned towards the nearby dumpster. 
You laughed, his playful words successfully easing your nerves. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself why you’d brought him out here.
“You heard me, didn’t you? In the shower?” 
“I’m sorry,” he blushed, caught red handed. “I wasn’t trying to spy or anything. But…yeah.”
“I didn’t mean it,” you told him.
Hurt flashed in his eyes for just a second, before he nodded and squared his shoulders to cover it up.
“Got it,” he shrugged.
“No, I mean, the hating myself part,” you clarified. 
“So the other stuff…?” He was quick to follow up.
The door for you to finally tell him how you felt was wide open in front of you, but you weren’t sure if you could walk through it. The words you’d been holding back your whole life sat on the tip of your tongue, but refused to pass your lips. You looked at him helplessly.
“I can’t,” you shook your head.
Rafe sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“What? You can’t what?” 
Your mouth fell open in disbelief, incensed that he was the one with an attitude here.
“You know what?” You said, hands on your hips. “I don’t think you have a lot of room to be snapping at me, Rafe. Not after everything you’ve done.”
“Everything I’ve done?” He huffed. “Please, tell me what I did that’s so terrible?”
“Seriously? High school wasn’t that long ago, Rafe.”
“Look I know I was a dick, okay?” He stepped forward, voice softening a bit with his apology. “And maybe you’ll never forgive me. But all that shit? That guy? That’s in the past, and I don’t want to talk about the past anymore, I just wanna be with you now.”
“I don’t know, Rafe,” you shook your head sadly. “I don’t know if I can just pretend none of that happened.”
“How long then?” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Tell me how long I’m gonna be paying for some shit I did when I was seventeen so I at least have an idea, please. Give me a date so I can plan for it.”
“Let’s see, Rafe, I wanted you for twelve years, you’ve wanted me for like two days. Does that seem even to you?”
Your words struck him, the anger in his eyes dissolving, replaced with tenderness. He stepped towards you tentatively, ducking just a bit to better read your face. 
“You really think I’ve only wanted you for two days?” He mumbled softly. “Baby…”
It was the second time he’d called you that today. You were in too much pain when he said it after you fell off the jet ski, but your brain had tucked it away subconsciously to revisit when you felt better. He’d called you baby before, when you were in high school. It had always given you butterflies, and you never called attention to it, afraid he’d stop if he realized how much it meant to you.
Since then, you’d reframed the memories to convince yourself that he never actually meant it, that it was some kind of manipulation tactic. But the way it rolled so naturally off his tongue earlier, and the way he’d breathed it so desperately now, made you reconsider.
“Please don’t call me that,” you pleaded. “Not if you don’t mean it.”
Rafe just blinked back at you, not an ounce of deception in his voice when he said, “I’ve always meant it.”
His confession pinched your heart, the whole story rewriting itself in your mind. For the first time ever, you let yourself actually believe that he cared for you, that he’d always cared for you. To anyone else who knew the whole story, it might seem unlikely, but seeing the look in his eyes right now, you had never been so sure of anything in your life.
You bit your lip as you looked up at him, your deep longing for him stronger than ever. He felt it too, you could tell by the way he drew closer, his body lining up with yours, eyes locked to your lips.
With the most tenderness you’ve ever encountered, he reached his hand up, the pad of his thumb landing on your bottom lip and pulling it gently from between your teeth, undoing you.
“Rafe…” you whispered, a plea and a question, as his lips ghosted over yours.
“Can I?” He breathed. “Please?”
You nodded, never meaning anything more than when you told him “yes.”
(chapter 7)
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a/n: chat what do we think? are we forgiving him? only 3 chapters to goooo. Also I wrote “shoulders back. head up. let ‘em know.” on my bathroom mirror as my new morning mantra 💘
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