#i told you you'd regret asking
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bbokicidal · 4 months ago
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"I Don't Have A Girlfriend." - H.H [SKZ]
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Summary : In which you go with Hyunjin to get his wisdom teeth removed.
Warnings : Hyunjin all doped up at the dentist for shits n giggles, felix/seungmin/changbin laughing at him, teasing banter, mention of binnie's bday gift from minho
"What year is it?"
"2024. Halfway through, baby." You laugh, hand coming up to the arm of the chair he lays in to rest there in case he tries to move around. And he does, sitting himself up a bit as if he's worried he's late for something.
Hyunjin huffs out a breath through his nose, turning his head to look at you. You can't deny that he looks god awful and adorable at the same time; Hair tousled, eyes puffy with sleep and cheeks swollen far more than usual from the medication and procedure he'd just undergone. "How long was I asleep?"
You pull your notification tab down with the tip of your index finger to check. "They put you under about an hour and a half ago, so you were asleep for.. I don't know, twenty minutes after they were done?"
"Twenty..." His voice trails off, soft and grumbly from just waking up. His lips press together before parting again, forced open by the gauze in his mouth and cheeks. His head turns towards the door and then down to the thin blanket placed over his body. Slowly, he begins to relax back into the chair.
Your hand comes up to rest along his cheek, brushing over the skin just barely before moving to pull hair back from his face. He blinks tiredly and keeps his eyes down, focused on the way his hands move under the blanket as he tries to pull it up further towards his shoulders. "Feeling okay, bubs?"
He huffs again, sighing out in what seems like distress that he's too sleepy to truly convey. "I have to go soon."
"Go where, baby?" You chuckle, curious on where his mind was wandering as the drugs slowly wore off.
His lips smack once, twice, and he blinks open his eyes again to look at you. It's a silly sight, his head tipped down toward the blanket and face pudgy with the angle. "I have a dinner date later. With ..."
You smile. "We rescheduled our dinner date for next week, Jinnie, remember? We'll have that dinner date eventually, don't worry."
"No.."
"No?" You grin this time, giggling out when he seems to reject the dinner offer. "You don't want to go on a dinner date with your girlfriend, baby?"
A few chuckles come from the screen of your phone. You'd facetimed Felix as soon as he'd asked you to after you'd told him Hyunjin was waking up. He insisted he needed to see what his hyung would be like all doped up at the dentist. So at the present moment, Felix's left eye and Seungmin's forehead fill the screen - and you know Changbin is lingering somewhere in the background.
Hyunjin clicks his tongue before his nose crinkles in careful regret. He adjusts in the chair, tugging the blanket fully up to his chin as he hums out. "I don't have a girlfriend."
Seungmin's laugh breaks the soft silence that fills the room and Hyunjin peeks open an eye in confusion as to where it came from.
"I'm your girlfriend, Jinnie." You remind him in a playful tone, still laughing through it all. Your hand finds his under the blanket and as the words settle in, his brows crinkle together.
"Uh, no." He blinks a few times at you, lips pursing. "I have a wife waiting for me at home. You can't be my girlfriend."
Your expression falls deadpan - but it all seemed worth it when Changbin's laughter exploded from your phone speaker, mixed with the sound of Felix dropping his phone as he fell to the floor cackling and Seungmin hitting the couch cushions in amusement.
Your eyes roll and you look back to your boyfriend, amused. "Right. Forgot you were married."
His lips purse once more, tongue sliding over them slowly as he realizes they're numbed still, before his eyes slip back shut in peace. "Mhm. My wife has pink underwear, too."
"Your wife has WHAT?"
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gojoshooter · 5 months ago
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HER HO!NY HUSBAND : GOJO SATORU
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tw. suggestive, gojo flashes his goodies
Husband!Gojo coming out of the shower with a wet muscular body and a piece of towel hanging along his waist—only to see his wife laying on the bed right in front of him.
Pregnant Wife!Yn who had been insecure of her growing belly and weight since a couple months due to her pregnancy, watches Gojo check her from head to toe, an unexplainable look on his handsome pale face.
Sitting upright, she fixes her loose garments. Maybe he’s finally come to the realisation of not being such a big fan of my mom body.
Husband!Gojo sensing her dejected mood, snaps out of his internal thoughts as he decides to reach out and sit next to her instead.
“Baby? Something’s bothering?” he asks softly, tucking a long strand of hair behind her ear.
Pregnant Wife!Yn ever a self-conscious overthinker, mumbles while looking up at her husband, “I saw you gazing at me few a many times now...” she fixes her garment again, in embarrassment “like... weirdly. You start looking stiff all of a sudden, as if you want to confess something. About my bad shape maybe.”
At her confession, Satoru pauses, lips parted open slightly and not sure which part to explain first. He brings a wet but comforting hand on her swollen belly.
“Silly girl. Are you worrying about your plump little adorable tummy again? I told you I like it.”
Pregnant Wife!Yn frowns, not really sure of his words. “Really? Then how would you explain everytime you stopped to stare at me? Your face doesn't seem as if you love it—or even like it, Toru.”
Husband!Gojo who shakes his head, body turning more towards her distressed wife. “I don't like it? I love you and every part of you babe, you know me.”
Yn sighs softly, looking down with an upset face. “I do... but maybe i shouldn't have asked for a baby. I just... I feel like you'd have appreciated my old body more, Toru.”
Satoru snaps his head towards her, eyebrows raised in disbelief. This was his last straw. She has to know what his pregnant, innocent wife does to him.
As he stands up slowly from the edge of the bed, he makes sure she's all eyes and ears. “Oh really now. Then I must give you a real reason to never regret your baby with me...”
Undoing the towel hooked on his dripping wet waist, the white haired man reveals his lower half of the riches. As her eyes set down, there comes in view an almost fully hard wet length of Gojo Satoru.
Pregnant Wife!Yn being taken aback, is unable to react for a good few first seconds, mouth agape. Light hue of red crawls up the neck to settle on her cheeks, when her husband hums in question.
“Mm? You see this? This is what you do to me, silly girl.”
Everything seemed suddenly more reasonable—Gojo stealing those frequent long gazes, his odd body language while he checks his pregnant wife out. Gojo gets aroused.
Pregnant Wife!Yn tears her gaze away from his manhood, cold sweat making her feel more or less like her currently out of shower dripping wet husband. Oh the thoughts that might be running in his perverted brain, all the ways he could take you in and you wouldn't be moving away with all the weight you bear of his baby, but comply, and relish, and whine.
“Oh-oh...” she mumbles shyly, the revelation lessening her insecurity effectively more than all sweet words combined could have ever had.
an. husband gojo >>> also this is my 1k readers special! ty for giving my writings your time, love y'all. likes & rbs are appreciated <33
tags: @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts
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chuluoyi · 4 months ago
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my boyfriend will kick your ass !
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- fushiguro megumi x reader
it's a date gone wrong when you get into an argument with your aloof boyfriend. but will he save you when it counts?
genre/warnings: tw. street harassment, catcalling. hurt/comfort, arguments and reconciliation, protective!megumi and fluff !
note: i miss my emo boi :(
general masterlist
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“Stay back!”
This is an utter plot twist. When you came out of your apartment today, all dolled up and ready to go on a date with your boyfriend, you never imagined you’d end up cornered by two creeps in a deserted alley.
“Easy, girl,” one of the guys in front of you cackled, lips curling into an unsettling sneer. “We’re just trying to get to know you better!”
“Listen— My boyfriend is super scary, you know!” you barked, willing yourself not to shake. “Now you better not come any closer or else—!”
“Or else what?” the other creep mocked with a snort. You gripped your umbrella—now your makeshift weapon—tightly, pointing it at him as a threat.
“Or else my boyfriend will be here in any minute and he’ll kick your ass!”
It was a partly a lie you hoped sounded convincing, because how could Megumi suddenly show up and find you in this dingy alleyway... right after both of you had a petty disagreement in the middle of Shibuya's shopping district?
Oh lord, how you regretted raising your voice and running away from him earlier.
"You are late!" you scolded him heatedly as he yawned, showing up twenty minutes later than your agreed time. "Can't you at least text me beforehand? I'll match your time if you do!"
Megumi sighed, fixing you with a blank stare as he scratched his head. "My bad. I overslept. I rushed here so didn't think of it."
It was so easy for him to say, and you would've understood if it was the first time, but you had noticed this pattern over the past two weeks. Whenever you asked him out for dates, his face always soured, and he didn't bother to be on time. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was reluctantly agreeing.
And by this point, you thought you knew better and that was really it.
Finally, you blurted out the burning accusation: "You never realize it, but it shows, you know? You never seem happy when we go out together."
He exhaled in exasperation, green eyes darkening at you. "What do you mean?"
"Exactly that."
It seemed he had run out of patience. Standing your ground, you braced for his next words. But the glare he sent your way and the words he spat pierced your tender heart more than you thought—
"You're always nagging. Can't you stop being annoying just once? What a pain."
Perhaps he was right, you were annoying him all this time and dealing with you was a pain. You could imagine it if you were in his place, but you couldn't handle the very implication that you had done so, and you screamed at his face:
"So be it then! Fushiguro, you are the worst!"
—and ran off with tears in your eyes, deserting him altogether.
You knew you weren’t exactly a model of maturity, but in your defense, it stung deeply that he saw you as annoying and a pain. What girlfriend wouldn’t be hurt by that?
Anyhow, you loitered near the Shibuya station afterwards, and at first you heard some catcalls you didn't really pay mind to. But when those two guys started whistling and edging closer, it hit you—you were their target.
You quickened your pace, turning down several corners, only to find yourself trapped in a dead end. Just how much worse could your day get?
"Aha, the girl says she has a boyfriend!" Creep #1 snickered, turning to Creep #2 with a smirk, before pretending to scan the area. "But I don’t see him?"
"Miss, I swear we’re not up to any trouble," Creep #2 chimed in, his eyes gleaming with a predatory delight. "Won’t you be our friend? You’re too pretty to be alone—this is Shibuya, after all!" he said, eyeing your legs and whistled. "And ooh, have I told you that skirt suits you well?"
These guys were straight-up perverts!
"Get lost!" you yelled, your fingers trembling as you swung the umbrella at him when he tried to close the distance. "Can’t you just leave me alone?!"
You were at your wits' end, and it was clear this situation wasn’t going to improve with them still blocking your way. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart, and decided to do the only thing you could.
In hindsight, a stupid move—
You barreled towards the two of them with your umbrella—managing to push past them. For a moment, you thought you had a chance and ran as fast as you could—
"Ack!" —until you tripped and crashed on the ground.
You rose and immediately winced, looking down at the site where it hurt the most. Oh, you had scrapped your knees badly.
"Ahh, miss! Don't be too hasty~!" you heard the second guy's sing-song voice, and you really wanted to cry. Why did this have to happen to you?
"Don't come c-closer!" you stammered, backing away as they approached. Your whole body shook, desperately trying to think of ways to save yourself. "Or— I'll scream!"
"Whoa, whoa, wait just a minute! Why don't you just—"
You really thought you would scream, until suddenly the familiar scent of mint filled your sense and a strong arm pulled you from behind, and a broad back shielded your view from them—
"What do you need from her?" Megumi's voice boomed, his eyes glaring at the two men who had been harassing you. His breathing was ragged, as if he had run all the way here. "Fuck off."
At that moment, you couldn't help clutching his sleeve, hiding behind him further as you kept trembling. Megumi sensed it, and turned over to have a look over you—
You looked disheveled, spooked, and his eyes widened when he saw the blood trailing down both of your knees.
"Hey man, your girlfriend practically asked for it! Just look how she is dressed—"
Before you could process what was happening, Megumi had yanked the man by his collar and thrown a punch at him. You yelped and immediately got a hold of his arm to stop him further. "Megumi!"
The other guy quickly caught his friend, who spat out a string of curses, his lips bloodied from the punch.
"Fuck. Off." Megumi glowered at them, and they finally got the message, scurrying away in hurry. The moment they did, he faced you again and you finally let out a sob, throwing yourself into him. His body was warm, his heart pounding hard— yet it meant reassurance for you.
"Are you okay...?" his voice was noticeably softer as he wrapped his arms around you and returned the hug. "Did they touch you—?"
Megumi froze when he felt his chest dampen with your tears and heard your sniffles, your figure shaking like a leaf in his embrace. A wave of guilt washed over him, realizing how scared you must have been. Instinctively, he held you tighter.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry," he muttered, his breath warm against your ear. It was as if there was an invincible knife that twisted his chest when it dawned on him what you just got into. "I'm here now, okay? You're safe now."
If it weren’t for his harsh words earlier, you wouldn’t have run off. He kept shushing you, his own heart breaking at the turn of events.
And when you nodded against him, he knew he had to make it up to you somehow.
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Later, Megumi tended to your minor injury while crouching down before you, as you sat on a bench near the convenience store where he had picked up the first aid kit.
Your eyes were swollen, your outfit was dirtied, but you ignored the curious looks from passersby. Still shaken, you kept your gaze fixed on your lap.
You recoiled when the disinfectant touched your torn skin, tears welling up again in your eyes. "Ow..."
"It'll hurt just a bit," Megumi looked up at you worriedly, seeing you struggling to hold back tears. He gently blew air on your wound. "It’ll be over soon."
Megumi noticed how you were uncharacteristically quiet. Between the two of you, you were the chatty one and he was the silent listener. But now, you were completely silent, and he knew it was definitely not a good sign.
And so he thought it was a good time to finally explain himself. With a sigh, he began. "I... was on back-to-back missions last week."
You glanced at him, both surprised and confused.
“I was so burnt out— that’s why I’ve been oversleeping lately. Sorry for not meeting you on time.” Megumi applied the ointment to your knees, and you stiffened from the sting. He blew air on them again to ease the discomfort.
"You never told me," you pointed out.
“Yeah, uh, sorry...” he winced. “It’s so... lame. I’ve been exhausted for a week straight whereas Itadori bounces back so easily. Stupid, I know.”
"You... didn't tell me because you don't want to look uncool?"
As soon as you worded it that way, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Megumi remained silent, looking down, and you knew that his silence was a definite yes.
Totally stupid. But exactly how Fushiguro Megumi was always wired. A part of you was exasperated, but also forgave him for it.
When he met your gaze again, he finally saw the light returning to your eyes. It was a relief to him, so he let out a small sigh and put on a strained smile.
"How did you find me anyway?" you asked quietly.
"You didn't pick up my calls. I was worried. And then I ran around until I heard your voice." His eyes narrowed into a frown. "Did they do anything to you?"
You shook your head, and Megumi let out the breath he had been holding, gripping your right hand in his. "I’m glad."
You brushed away the trace of tears on your cheeks as he finished applying band-aids to your knees, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.
"Sorry for being annoying," you mumbled softly, not meeting his eyes, feeling yourself so small all of a sudden. "Will totally happen again though."
"You..." Unwittingly, he cracked a smile at your blatant remark. "Just... don’t run off again, dummy. Do it where I can see you."
He ruffled your hair gently, then intertwined your fingers with his. "And sorry... for getting mad at you too."
Your cheeks felt warm, so you looked away, puckering your lips together. "...I'm hurt. You have to make it up to me."
He hummed, the beginnings of a smile on his face. "Let's go have that shaved ice you’ve been craving then."
“Huh? You remembered! But you don’t like them?”
“You like that kind of sugar dump, don’t you?”
Hand-in-hand, both of you traversed the Shibuya shopping district together. Your eyes were still puffy, but you were smiling and talking his ears off again just like you always did.
“I told those pricks my boyfriend will definitely kick their asses,” you giggled to yourself, swinging your joined hands in joy. “And you really did~”
“What are you talking about…?”
Sometimes you were beyond his comprehension. Sometimes you were also cute beyond comparison.
And Megumi thought... he liked you the best this way.
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ariestrxsh · 16 days ago
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જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 content warning: smut, innocence corruption, masturbation, public fingering, praise, sneaking around, mentions of sex and virginity loss, small age gap (both characters are adults), pervy!brothersbsf!matt, innocent!reader
જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 author's note: sooo i wasn't planning on making a part two for this fic, but you guys asked, and now there will be multiple parts. you can read part one here.
જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 summary: your brother's childhood best friend, matt sturniolo, takes your virginity, and the two of you begin sneaking around in plain sight.
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young god part two
Matt woke up in a cold sweat, his chest covered in a thick layer of perspiration, laying on the floor next to your brother's bed in his dark room. He had heard your brother's voice so clearly in his dream that he was sure it was real while it was happening.
He had taken your virginity earlier in the night, and his conscience was already nagging at him in the form of vivid nightmares that the interaction had ended in your brother walking in on the two of you.
In reality, he was thankfully a heavy sleeper, and it was a running joke in the family that he could sleep through a car accident, and he actually had once. It was a minor fender bender, but still. So even as Matt woke up in a panic, gasping for air, your brother was snoring loudly, the same way he was when Matt had snuck back into the room after he'd cleaned you up.
It's not that Matt regretted having sex with you. In fact, he was already plotting how he could get you alone again. But he knew he was playing a dangerous game. Your brother was bigger than he was, stronger than he was, and he'd seen him beat the shit out of people for less. Matt really believed him when he told him he'd kill him if he had sex with you.
But how could he have walked away from you after finding you like that, pleasuring yourself and moaning his name? He really thought it would have been more cruel to have left you all alone to your own devices when he knew that what you really wanted was between his legs, and he knew he could make you feel better than any toy could.
He started pawing at himself through the soft fabric of his underwear while he replayed the encounter in his head. He recalled the way he had stumbled upon you with your vibrator, softly moaning his name from one room over. He remembered how vulnerable and fuckable you'd looked.
His curious hand wandered into his waistband, and he wrapped his fingers around his thick shaft, fervently tugging at his cock while he recounted the shocked expression on your pretty face while he'd breached your entrance. He couldn't stop thinking about all the lovely sounds you'd made while he'd deflowered you, stretching you out for the very first time.
He started pumping faster, his mind flooded with images of you, getting closer and closer to the finale. He remembered how you'd clenched around him while he played with you and the way your breasts had jiggled while he had pounded into your sweet little cunt.
You were no longer pure and virginal, and it was all thanks to him. He had tainted your innocence with his dark desires.
He threw his head back and shut his eyes as a few strangled moans filled the room. His stomach dropped, and his muscles tightened as he finished himself off, milking his throbbing cock for all of its worth. He came all over his hand while he pictured your hole dripping with his seed after he'd filled you up.
He remembered the way you had softly begged him, "Please, don't tell my brother," while peering up at him with your big eyes, your lip caught between your teeth as his cum was still dribbling out of you. "I wouldn't dream of it," he had panted in response before leaning down and pulling you into a deep kiss.
A satisfied smile formed on Matt's face as he slowly brought his strokes to a halt, and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. He couldn't wait until the next time he got to have his way with you.
Finally, Matt was able to drift off again and sneak in a few more hours of uninterrupted sleep before the sun began to rise.
જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴
The next morning, you woke up smiling and satisfied from what Matt had done to you the previous night. You galavanted into the long hallway, tiptoeing past your brother's door. You floated down the staircase, running your hand along the smooth banister like you did every morning on your way to the kitchen.
"Morning Boots!" You greeted the family dog, ruffling his fur, and he wagged his tail in response. You let him out the back door to do his morning business.
You were humming to yourself, rifling through the fridge, pulling out a carton of eggs when Matt appeared out of the corner of your eye at the bottom of the steps. "Shit," you muttered as you lost your grip on the carton of eggs, sending the last six in the container crashing to the floor about your feet.
"Sorry, sweet thing. I didn't mean to startle you," Matt chuckled, watching you forget how your motor skills worked just because he was in your presence. "Hi, Matt," you timidly greeted him.
For a moment, you glanced up at him and then back down at the shattered eggs beneath you as you remembered the vulnerable position he'd seen you in the night before. You knelt down on the ground and started scooping up the broken shells.
"I make you nervous, don't I?" Matt smirked, slowly walking towards you. You innocently looked up at him with a flushed expression and your big, doe eyes. You didn't have to respond for him to know he was right. "Has anyone ever told you how pretty you look on your knees?" Matt cooed quietly, bending down and softly brushing his thumb against your smooth, pink cheek.
You felt your stomach drop as Matt looked into your eyes, caressing your face and saying all the right things to you. "You were such a good girl for me last night," Matt whispered, smiling deviously and running the pad of his thumb along your plump bottom lip.
Suddenly, you heard heavy foot steps descending the stairs, and Matt quickly pulled his hand away as your brother materialized at the bottom of the staircase. Matt started to help you pick up the broken egg shells, but you couldn't will away the pink shade your face took on after Matt had spoken so sweetly to you.
"That's okay. I'll just have cereal for breakfast," your brother rolled his eyes, approaching the pantry after witnessing the mess. "It's my fault," Matt said, winking at you as he stood up, disposing of the eggs shells and rinsing off his hand. You avoided eye contact with them both, cleaning the rest of the egg off the tile.
You appreciated that Matt took the attention off you by taking the blame. You were paranoid that if your brother looked at you for too long that he could see it written on your face that you weren't a virgin anymore.
"You know, why don't we all go out for breakfast?" Matt suggested, smirking over at you once he picked up the nearly empty carton of milk out of the fridge.
જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴ ♡🍨જ⁀➴
You, Matt, and your brother found yourselves at a nearby local diner with a bit of a 50's vibe to it - classic checkerboard floor, a vintage jukebox, and vinyl pink booths. I Only Have Eyes For You by The Flamingo's played quietly through the speakers as a woman in bright red lipstick and a poodle skirt greeted the three of you and led you towards your table in the back of the empty restaurant.
Both you and your brother sat down across from each other, and Matt made the bold move of taking a seat next to you, earning a curious look from your brother that Matt quickly brushed off.
The waitress poured fresh, hot coffee into each of your ceramic mugs and set off in another direction to give you all a few minutes with your menus.
You decided on French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon. Matt got the biscuits and gravy combo, and your brother got steak and eggs. Shortly after ordering, the server came back around to top off everyone's coffee.
"So what do you guys like the most about being away at college?" You asked Matt and your brother as you stirred a couple sugars and cream into your mug. "Definitely the fact that our overprotective mother isn't always asking where I'm going," your brother chuckled, taking a sip of coffee.
"How about you, Matt? What do you like the most about college?" You asked, batting your lashes at him. "Probably how loud I can fuck now that I don't live at home with my parents," Matt said, smirking over at you.
"Wow. How inspirational. Maybe tone done the sex talk in front of my little sister, huh?" Your brother snorted, dipping his fingers into his water and flicking it at Matt. Matt did the same in return. You blushed and giggled at their rapport.
"What have you guys missed the most about being home?" You wondered, glancing between the two boys. "I missed Boots the most. We can't keep pets in our dorm rooms," your brother stated, excited to be around the family dog again.
You turned your attention towards the boy to your left to hear his response. "I missed you the most," Matt said in a seductive voice, staring into your eyes, nudging you in the knee with his, and secretly placing his hand on your thigh. You smiled and blushed at him.
"Did you miss me as much as I missed you?" He cooed, gently drawing circles with his fingers just inches from your heat. You bit your lip and nodded. "Hey, Matt. Could you stop hitting on my little sister in front of me?" Your brother asked nonchalantly. "No. Look at how much she likes it," Matt sneered at him, and your brother kicked him under the table.
It was a small price to pay in order to watch how embarrassed and flustered you'd get around him.
It was around this time that the waitress returned with your steaming hot breakfast. The smell of maple syrup and bacon wafted through the air, and you each thanked her as she placed your plates in front of you all. There were a few moments of silence while everyone dug into their meals.
You felt Matt's hand that was resting on the inside of your thigh as he started hiking up your sparkly pink dress and inching towards your pussy. Your eyes widened, and you slowly looked over towards Matt as he casually pulled your panties to the side.
He shot a subtle smirk in your direction as he slipped a finger between your folds, gently stroking up and down and just barely grazing your clit. You bit down on your lip to suppress a whimper. With one hand between your legs and the other gripping his fork, he nodded at your brother while he recounted his least favorite teacher his first semester of his freshman year of college.
"Hopefully, you don't get him next year, sis. Basically had to teach myself trigonometry because he refused to dumb down the information. Pretentious bastard," your brother mumbled under his breath. "Yeah, and he was a real hard-ass for no reason," Matt added, gesturing with his fork while he rubbed your sensitive button underneath the table.
"Just because you never showed up to class doesn't mean every single one of your teachers is a hard-ass, Matt," your brother snarked at him. Matt chuckled at your brother's comment while he inserted a finger into your drooling hole as you were taking a sip of your coffee.
You inhaled sharply, sputtering on your hot drink and nearly spitting it out onto the table. "You good?" Your brother asked you, and you nodded while you placed your mug back down with a trembling hand. "Lay off the coffee. You're shaking," he pointed out before cutting into his steak.
Matt slowly thrust his finger into you while you tried to remain as composed as possible. You loved the feeling of him moving in and out of you while your brother was across from you, unaware of what the two of you were up to on the other side of the booth.
Thankfully, after a few more minutes, your brother excused himself to use the bathroom, and he walked away without paying any mind to what Matt's fingers were doing under the table.
The second he disappeared around the corner, Matt grabbed ahold of your leg and rested it on his knee to open you up further. He spread your lips and stared down at your wet, juicy cunt. "Such a pretty pink pussy you have," Matt admired, hungrily wetting his lips.
He lined two of his fingers up with your entrance and started fucking you hard and fast with them under the table. "If the waitress or your brother start coming this way, be a good girl and let me know. I don't think this will take very long, though," he whispered, seductively smiling at you.
A few strangled moans escaped your lips as you gripped the edge of the table. "Good girl. You're so wet," Matt softly commented as his digits slipped in and out of you with ease. You could feel your stomach dropping, your core tightening, and your whole body quivering as Matt brought you to the quickest climax you'd had in your life.
There was something about the risky factor and the publicity of it all that sent you plummeting over the edge while Matt passionately finger-fucked you.
"That's it. Cum all over my fingers. Come on, sweet thing. I know you can do it," he urged you. His praise sent a current of pleasure through you while you started rhythmically clenching around his digits, your hips bucking as he finished you off.
"Good girl," he lustfully commended you as your jaw fell open and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He pumped in and out, slowing down his pace as your orgasm concluded. A wave of tranquility washed over you, and Matt gave you a mischevious smile as he pulled his fingers from your slick hole that were covered in shiny layer of your juices.
"Mmm," he hummed as he stuck them in his mouth and licked them clean, cherishing your flavor. "I can't get enough of you," he whispered as you pulled your legs shut again, smoothing out your dress, and going back to eating your food as your brother came into view from around the corner on his way back from the bathroom.
You almost couldn't believe you'd let Matt do that to you in such a high-risk situation, but you fucking loved the rush you got from it, and Matt could tell due to how quickly you came.
When your brother returned to the table, you could feel how flushed your face must have looked as your brother's eyes traveled between you and his best friend. Matt couldn't hide the guilty smirk from his face, but he tried to cover it with his hand as he propped his elbow up on the table.
He got a sort of sick satisfaction out of sneaking around with his best friend's little sister right in front of his face. The only problem was that he was too smug and arrogant for his own good, and his God complex would quickly have him falling from good graces if he wasn't careful.
"You guys are acting weird today," he commented, narrowing his gaze. "If one of you did something to my food while I was gone, you're both dead," he laughed, skeptically looking at you and the boy beside you.
"Nah, nothing like that. Don't worry about it," Matt replied in a conceited tone. "If you're playing some kind of prank on me, I'm gonna figure it out, Sturniolo," your brother responded, laughing and pointing at him with his fork.
You sat uncomfortably in your soaking wet panties, silently finishing your coffee, unable to look at either one of them. Your heart was still beating quickly, and you were still trying to subtly call your breath back to you. Luckily, the subject changed, and the boys started talking about something unrelated.
You couldn't bring yourself to add to the conversation, so you listened quietly while you picked at your french toast and eggs, trying to draw as little attention to yourself as possible.
You couldn't keep your eyes off Matt the whole ride home, studying his profile and swooning every time he turned around to wink at you or lick his lips while he peered between your legs. Every silent exchange between the two of you felt like a little secret that only the two of you were privy to.
You liked concealing the sexual nature of your relationship with Matt. As far as everyone else around you knew, he was just your brother's best friend. However, behind closed doors (and under the table in empty diners), he was the manifestation of your fantasies, the embodiment of your wildest wet dream, and the boy who had popped your cherry.
All you could think about was the next time you'd get to be alone with him. Behind his hauntingly beautiful blue eyes, he was wondering the same about you, daydreaming about the next time he could fill you with his cock.
જ⁀➴ ♡🍨 part three here 💖
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sluttywoozi · 2 months ago
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(Boy)Friend Material | Part II | csc x f!reader
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Part I
Seungcheol really thought that, having met you on a dating app, you'd be more into, well, dating him. He supposes he should have made sure you knew that's what he thought you were doing.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~9.2k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: romance, smut
Warnings: elevator makeouts, minor safe sex discussion, lil tiny mention of birth control making reader depressed, restraining, oral f. rec., vaginal fingering, squirting, sex with a condom, crying during sex
Reader Notes: referred to with she/her pronouns, has two cats, has breasts and a vagina, gets carried by cheol, wap
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Seungcheol is still fucking floored that he’s been dating you without your knowledge for four months. 
All this time, he’s feared that you weren’t as into him as he was into you. What else was he supposed to think when he was constantly the one reaching out? He was the one making the dates, and inviting you to hangouts with his friends, and asking if he could come over and spend time with you. 
He tried not to mind that it was always him hugging you, him wanting to hold your hand, him touching you in all the little ways people in relationships do. He told himself that he just hadn’t discovered your love language yet, and that once he did, things would change. 
Honestly, if you were anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have stuck it out so long. He was willing and able to because you’re you, and he likes you so damn much. 
You got his attention effortlessly with your opener, and the way you committed to the bit instead of backing down or changing the subject kept him interested. Then when he met you, you were somehow even funnier and prettier in person, and he was fucking enchanted. As soon as you parted ways, he was trying to figure out how he could see you again, dreaming up different scenarios and cycling through ideas until finally, he just asked. You said yes, so he kept asking. 
And now here he sits on your couch (where he can be found most Sundays), playing with your cats and listening to your musings as you pack your weekend bag. He doubts you think he can hear you or you probably wouldn’t be asking yourself, “Comfy or sexy?” out loud. He’s not sure which you pick but he’s kind of hoping for comfy because that’s always been sexy to him, the surety that you’re comfortable around him and cozy as can be. 
It’s been a while since his last relationship and he’s not a serial dater like some of his friends, so he was a bit out of practice when he met you. Still, he counted himself lucky that you grew to be so comfortable around him after only a few weeks, though now he knows it’s because you thought he was just your friend. 
He regrets that it took him thinking you wanted to break up to finally be honest about feeling like the relationship was one sided, because everything could have been resolved so long ago. 
All the times he’s thought about kissing you, he could have. Every morning that he’s surprised you with your favorite iced latte, every flower garden that he’s ever brought you to, every movie night that he’s looked over at you and watched the colors dance across your face in the darkness. He could have been kissing you for months, and you could have been kissing him back. 
He mourns the lost time, but part of him can’t be upset this miscommunication happened because it’s made him move with purpose. He’s constantly thinking of you, always trying to be what you need, and he honestly isn’t sure he would know you this well if he didn’t feel like he had to prove himself worthy. 
It’s not like he’s going to stop trying to prove himself now, but it helps to be reassured that your withholding nature wasn’t because he likes you more than you like him, it was because you didn’t know he likes you at all. 
He feels so juvenile talking in terms of like, but he’s a little scared to introduce love to the equation. He could so easily define his feelings for you in that way, but it’s been four months of dating you without you dating him back, and he’s reluctant to take that leap without being sure you’ll take it with him. 
After he bore his soul to you, though, you said all of those things, told him that you don’t ever want to let him go, which sounds a whole lot like a love confession just minus the actual word…
Bluebell paws at his hand, asking for attention, and he grants it, trying to shake off worries that don’t hold weight anymore. Poppy sprawls against his thigh, purring so loud he can feel the vibrations.
This has been enough, he tells himself. Count yourself lucky that it’ll get even better now that she can knowingly participate in the relationship. 
“Ready,” you say in a sing-song voice as you struggle through the door to your bedroom, your shoulder laden down with a duffle and your hand holding your giant water bottle…cup…thing. You’re wearing your favorite lounge set, one he’s seen countless times, but the way the soft fabric clings to the curves of your body still makes his heart pound. 
He rises quickly to greet you, sending Poppy skittering off the couch. She darts over to you, yowling as if he committed a mortal sin, and you pout indulgently at her, asking, “Did the big man scare you? Poor baby.”
He doesn’t mind the teasing, especially when you call him big in the process. 
Before he gets too wrapped up in staring at you, he strides over, carefully taking hold of the strap on your shoulder and lifting until you slide your arm through so he can shoulder the duffle instead. 
“Wanna get a refill before we go? I know you like your water more than mine,” he offers, continuing to say (because you’re so fucking cute when you’re adamant about something), “Even though it tastes the same.”
“It does not taste the same! My water is better and more refreshing!” You claim instantly, walking across the living room to your kitchenette.
“Maybe that’s because I’ve changed your water filter twice since I met you even though it only needs to be changed twice a year.”
“Maybe so, but you’ll change it a third time for our six month anniversary and you’ll do it with a smile on your face,” you playfully command him as you fill your monstrous water container. 
Six month anniversary. So you really do want to keep him around.
“Yeah, baby, I will,” he sighs, hoping you can’t tell that your little light-hearted threat has him feeling like he could drown, he’s so awash in adoration for you. 
“You’ve never called me baby before,” you gasp gleefully, spinning to face him with bright eyes and a wide smile. 
“I didn’t know if you’d like it,” he shrugs, a bit sheepish that it’s taken him this long to test it out. 
“I love it, baby is my name now,” you tell him, screwing the top back onto your water and sounding so serious, it’s almost comical.
You grasp your cup, holding your free hand out to him for what might be the first time. His heart skips a beat as he takes it, intertwining his fingers with yours and following you to your door. 
“Bye Bell, bye Poppy, I love you,” you call out, looking over your shoulder to find your cats already asleep in their favorite spots on your mushroom and flower cat tree. He whispers his own goodbye and closes the door gently, pressing the button and turning the lock until it clicks. 
Immediately, you’re tugging him down the hall and towards the elevator, a chuckle escaping him at the sound of your bubbly laughter and quick footsteps. 
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” you press the button and chant at the machine, bouncing in place beside him. 
“Excited?” He teases, amused by your lack of patience. 
Your head turns at the speed of light as you look at him with wide eyes and ask, “Aren’t you?” 
He would be sarcastic but it sounds like your heart is primed to break, and he can’t risk hurting you just for a joke. 
“More than I can say,” he answers honestly, expecting your smile but not the way you hustle him into the elevator and back him up against the wall, wrapping your arm around his neck and looking away only to press the ground floor button. 
“You gonna kiss me or not?” He murmurs, his eyes already on your lips as you get close enough for him to feel your chest against his. 
You answer without words, your perfect lips soft and unyielding, his hand dropping to your hip to tug you into his body as your fingernails scratch at the short hair on the nape of his neck. The feeling sends a shiver down his spine and drags a sigh out of his mouth, one that you swallow with a needy gasp. 
He lowers your duffle to the floor, stepping forward until he’s got you against the wall and sliding his thigh between your legs to see what other sounds he can summon from you as his passion starts to overflow. His lips move against yours insistently, a fire lighting up in his veins when you wilt into him and let him take control, the transfer of power mouthwateringly sweet. 
And then you pull away. You pull away and he tries to chase you but you stop him with a hand on his chest, and he won’t push you, he would never push you. 
“Everything okay?” He pants, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts and images of you that fill it. 
“Yeah, it’s just- we’re here,” you whisper, blinking at him and glancing over at the elevator doors. 
The open elevator doors. 
The lobby is empty, but if Seungcheol is being truthful, he thinks he wouldn’t really care if people did see. 
You’re his girlfriend, and he’s your boyfriend. What’s so wrong with it?
Then again, part of him does want to keep you all to himself, kissing in elevators included. Which is why he’s quick to step away from you and take your hand again, grabbing the duffle before pulling you through the lobby and to his car. 
He’s not in such a rush that he won’t still open your door for you, waiting as you get in and gently shutting the door before tucking your bag in the backseat and jogging around to the driver’s side. He closes his door quietly even in his haste, not wanting to startle you or make you think he’s upset in any way.
His hand finds your thigh again after starting the car up and getting on the road, the silence that fills the space anticipatory instead of stifling like it was just an hour ago. He finds himself clenching his jaw and bouncing his left knee, counting down the traffic lights that sit between your place and his until finally, there’s only one left. 
It’s red when he rolls to a stop, and his heart is thumping so hard in his chest that he swears if he looked down, he’d be able to see it beating. He glances over at you and finds you already staring at him, which has happened more than a few times in the months that he’s known you. This time is different, though, because you don’t pretend you weren’t looking, or start rambling nervously, or even look away. 
You just meet his gaze and let him see everything. Your nerves, your desire, your impatience, he sees it all, and feels it all himself. For perhaps the first time since he met you, he knows for certain that you and him are on the exact same wavelength. 
He’s so entranced that he doesn’t notice the light turn green until the car behind him honks, and that disturbance is still barely enough to make him tear his gaze from yours. His eyes reluctantly return to the road as he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze and presses the gas pedal, closing the distance between the light and his parking garage as quickly as the speed limit allows. 
A long minute passes and he’s pulling into his designated parking spot, his seatbelt unbuckled and his door open before the car is even off. Sometimes, you’re distracted and he gets to open your door for you, but this isn’t one of those times. You’re out just as fast as him, meeting him at the trunk and taking his hand. 
Together, you speed walk to the door that opens into his hallway. You pass through first and then he does, your pace getting faster the closer you get to his place until finally, finally, he’s unlocking the door and beckoning you inside. He pauses to slip his sneakers off at the rack and you follow suit, the sight of your shoes next to his lighting up the part of his brain that craves domesticity with you. 
You don’t come over as often as he goes to your place so when you slow, he takes the lead, his hand still holding yours tightly and his heart still racing. 
He doesn’t quite mean to press you up against the wall but he takes a step forward as you take a step back and then it’s just too easy to lean in and taste you again, your lips supple and your sigh sweet. 
The kiss starts off slow, tame, but it’s not long before he’s inching closer and sucking at your bottom lip, his tongue gliding along yours when you open your mouth and let him in. You’re so warm and soft against him, your breasts flush with his chest and his dick starting to throb against your stomach, the combination of sensations making his head spin. 
It seems he can’t get enough of you now after what feels like millions of missed opportunities, millions of times he’s wanted his lips on yours and his hands on your body. He’s lost in you before he knows it, near mindless with desperation and devotion, his hunger for you so overwhelming that he fears no amount of you will ever be enough. 
It’s never been like this before, nobody else has ever made him feel as if he would suffocate without their air or perish without their touch, but here he is, kissing you like you’re breathing pure oxygen and gripping your hips like he’ll fade into nothingness if he lets go. 
He knew you were special to him but he didn’t know he would need you like this, and the realization is enough to make him pull back, saying through sharp breaths, “Maybe we should slow down, I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush.”
You gaze at him, almost through him, and say, with great care, “Seungcheol, I’ve wanted your dick inside me since we met. If you want to slow down, we can, but if I had it my way, we’d be moving even faster.”
And fuck if that isn’t enough to spur him into action, to make his cock twitch in his jeans and his hands fly to your waist, a rough, “Jump,” escaping his swollen lips. 
You gasp but wrap your legs around him when he starts to lift you, his grip shifting to your thighs as you vine your arms around his neck, seemingly holding on for dear life. He’d die before dropping you so you have nothing to worry about, but he’s too focused on getting you to his bed to inform you of that fact. He also maybe likes feeling you cling to him like this too much to give you any reason to stop. 
“We need a condom, right?” He checks as he walks, fairly certain the answer will be yes. 
Jeonghan bought him a box when he first started seeing you, the exact size he needs and brand he likes, and handed them over with a wink and a wiggle of his eyebrows. Seungcheol rolled his eyes at the time, but he’s thankful for him now because he never would have bought them himself, too fearful of jinxing the situation. 
“Yeah, I stopped my birth control, it was making me hella depressed. Is that- I mean, are you okay with using one?” You ask, though you absolutely don’t need to. 
“Baby, all I care about is making you feel safe. I’ll wear a condom, I’ll pull out, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“You’re the best boyfriend,” you sigh, hugging him tightly and pressing a kiss to his cheek as he crosses through the doorway to his bedroom.
He left it relatively clean, thankfully, and there’s nothing embarrassing out, unless he counts the picture of him and you that he got framed last month to keep on his nightstand. You see it when he carefully deposits you onto your back on the mattress, your face twisting up like you might cry. 
He’s alarmed until you say, “I have that photo framed on my nightstand.”
The fact that you have one is enough to make him smile but the fact that you picked the same picture is enough to make him fucking beam, his lips stretched too wide to kiss you even though he really wants to. 
He tries anyway, his smile fading as he braces a hand next to your head and presses his mouth to yours, climbing up on the bed when you grip his shirt and start to pull him. He’s imagined this so many times, pictured you under him and on top of him and in front of him (face down, ass up as he slides inside of you). 
He’s made himself cum to the thought of you in this bed, and now that he has you here, he almost doesn’t know where to start. You seem to have your own ideas and desires though, and he’d give anything to find out what they are. 
So, like Seungcheol always has, he just asks. 
“You said you’ve wanted me since we met… What have you thought about?” His voice is ragged when he speaks, deep, but he thinks you like it, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip before your breath leaves you in a sigh. 
“Lots of things,” you whisper, your hands skimming down his chest until they find the hem of his shirt and start to push it up. He sits back on his knees between your legs and hauls it off, fighting a smirk at the way your eyes grow hazy.
You hesitate to put your hands on him, so he takes one of them in his own and presses your palm to his stomach, his muscles jumping at your warm, gentle touch. 
“Like what?” 
“Like… how big you probably are. If you’d be soft and sweet or if you’d be a little rough, a little mean.” 
Following your words, he drags your hand down and lets you feel him, his dick hard and pressing into the zipper of his jeans. You can’t cover all of it, but you close your fingers around the shaft as best you can and rub firmly, one, two, three times. 
“Fuck,” he sighs as you squeeze, the pressure making his eyelids flutter as pleasure sparks within him. “Which do you want more? Soft and sweet or rough and mean? I can be whatever you want.”
“You’re already all I want you to be, Cheol, so just be you.”
God, you’re going to be the end of him. Death by swollen heart.
“A bit of both it is then,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, shifting his grip to your wrist before pushing your hand up to rest beside your head. He does the same with your other hand, leaving you unable to move your upper body. 
He’s about to break away to check in, but you melt into the bed and wrap your legs around his waist, tugging his hips into yours with a soft moan. 
The sound sends a lick of heat down his spine, his dick pulsing in time with his heart and so hard, it almost hurts. He breathes a shuddering sigh into your mouth and grinds into you, wishing his jeans could magically disappear so he wouldn’t have to stop kissing you to take them off. 
The denim is getting to be too restrictive though, especially when he’s dying to feel you with no barriers at all. So he tries to pull back, but you whimper into his mouth and hug him closer with your legs, and the only way he can respond to that is by kissing you harder and letting his body press into yours. 
He’s gone for you for a few more minutes, his jeans all but forgotten as you roll your hips against his and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. The slight sting makes him gasp and dig his cock into you in retaliation, his hands tightening around your wrists when you just push back and bite his lip again. 
It feels almost impossible to pull away from you now but he can’t take it anymore, the clothes need to come off, yours in particular. He’s imagined this too often and wanted you for too long to make this a quick, messy, fully-clothed fuck. You deserve better, you deserve everything, and he’s going to do his absolute best to give it to you. 
So he breaks the connection, ignoring the whine that escapes you to pant out, “I’ll kiss you again when we’re naked, promise.”
“Yes, oh my god, take your pants off,” you reply in a rush, your eyes lighting up as you attempt to free your wrists from his hold. He releases you immediately, but he climbs off the bed before you can wrestle his jeans down, his hands finding yours and pulling until you stand with him. With a laugh, he says, “I said ‘when we’re naked,’ baby. That means you, too.”
“Strip me then,” you raise your arms, a challenge in your gaze, and he can do nothing but accept it, tugging your shirt up and off and freezing in place when he sees what you have on under it. 
“Fuck me,” he murmurs, staring at the cherry red lace that encases your breasts. There are delicate little bows on the straps and the lace is so fine that he can see right through it, could probably rip it without even trying. 
“Did you wear this for me?” He asks absentmindedly, his eyes caught on your tits as they rise and fall with your breathing. 
“Yeah, I bought it when we started talking. I thought you’d like it,” you answer softly, tucking your thumbs into the waistband of your lounge pants and pushing them down just enough for him to get a peek of the very same red. “It’s a matching set.”
His knees weak at the thought, he sits heavily on the mattress, setting his hands on your hips and guiding you to stand between his legs. 
“Can I see?” 
“That’s kind of the point,” you whisper like it’s a secret, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders as he starts to pull your pants down. They slip off easily and pool on the floor, leaving you nearly bare before him and more bewitching than he could have ever imagined. 
“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he sighs out, feeling almost dazed as he takes the sight of you in, his thumbs tracing over the bows that sit on the front of your hips. He sinks his fingertips into you, squeezing to feel the give of your flesh and using all of his willpower to stop himself from tearing the lacy panties right off. 
He could (and would) buy you a new set, but you bought this with him in mind, and had to wait so long to wear it for him. It’s too special for him to damage it just because he’s desperate to see you bare. 
You must be able to read his mind, taking your hands off his shoulders to reach behind your back and undo the clasps, the bra loosening on your body before you shrug it down your arms and toss it on the bed. 
Seungcheol finds himself spellbound once again, captivated by all the skin before him, the way your nipples pebble under his gaze making his breath catch in his chest. “Can I touch you?” 
“I feel like I’ll die if you don’t,” you answer immediately, gasping in relief when he smooths his hands up to cover your breasts. He cups them, testing the weight, and squeezes gently, already obsessed with the feeling of your soft, supple skin under his palms. His thumbs drag over your nipples, circling them until you let out a quiet little whimper, one that he would give his life to hear again. 
“Lay down for me, baby,” He requests, needing you spread out before him so he can fully drink you in. 
Forgetting a change in position means he has to stop touching you, he pouts when you step out of his reach, though he’s distracted almost instantly by the cheeky cut of your panties. 
He stands on knees that are still slightly weak, getting out of your way and watching as you climb up on the bed. He tries not to ogle you but your ass looks so fucking biteable from here, and he can’t even let himself focus on the space between your legs because he just might combust if he gets a good look.
You settle on your back in the center of the mattress and he feels his heart squeeze at the sight of you in his bed. He’s wanted you in it for months, and not just for sex, but for cuddling and reading together and falling asleep in each other’s arms, too. So much time has been wasted, but he won’t let it bother him, not when this literally feels like a dream come true. 
He starts moving toward you, trying to formulate a game plan for how he can kiss your stomach and suck one of your nipples at the same time, but you hold a hand out and say, “Stop.”
Every muscle in his body locks up, his heart pounding in anxiety that he’s done something wrong, that you’ve changed your mind about him, that you- 
“Don’t look so worried, Cheollie, I just want you to take your jeans off,” you soothe, making him sigh out his stress and squeeze his eyes shut. 
“Listen to me, Seungcheol. I like you so much that it scares me sometimes. I like you in a way that is concerning to my friends. I like you more than I have ever liked anyone else. My crush on you is deeper than the Mariana Trench,” you say emphatically. “I will tell you this until you believe it.”
Fuck, he feels like he might cry. 
Hearing these words from you is affirming beyond belief, soothing to his very soul, and the steadiness and truth in your voice as you said them is what gives him the courage to admit it. 
“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers quietly, his eyes still closed. He hears rustling, envisions you making your way to the edge of the bed, and he’s not surprised when he feels your hands take his. 
“I know I’m in love with you,” you whisper back, your fingers intertwined with his and your voice just as sure as before. 
He blinks his eyes open, finds you staring up at him with a teary, affection-soaked gaze, and can’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss stays chaste and soft even though your tits are out and he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, this moment so precious to him, his desire takes the back burner. 
Until you pull back and tell him, “Now take your pants off, please. I’m so fucking wet for you.”
Fuck the back burner, you just lit the stove on fire. He unbuttons his jeans, the fly barely halfway down before he’s shoving them off and stepping out of them, kicking them away like their presence offends him. You didn’t ask him to, but he sheds his boxer briefs as well, feeling his cock pop up and hit his stomach before it hangs heavily between his legs. 
Your eyes grow wide and you open your mouth to say something, but he can’t stop hearing, ‘I’m so fucking wet for you,’ the words seared into his brain forevermore. 
“Let me eat you out?” He practically begs, willing to ask again on his knees if you want him to. 
“I love that you ask, but you don’t need to anymore. Just do what feels right and I’ll stop you if I don’t like it,” you promise, laying back and lifting your ass for him as he slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts to tug them down. 
And shit, they’re soaked, fucking sodden with your arousal, the lace sticking to your pussy as he peels them away. He can feel his mouth water when the scent of you fills his nose, leaving him breathless and near brainless with need for you.
Sinking to his knees, he gently pushes your thighs apart to reveal the prettiest fucking pussy he’s ever seen. Maybe he just thinks that because it’s yours, but that doesn’t really matter when you’re glistening and open and all for him. 
He’s always imagined himself having some amount of finesse when he finally got his tongue between your legs, always pictured going slow and taking you apart piece by piece, or at least pacing himself even a little bit. Now that he’s here, with his hands on your thighs and his face just inches from you, he knows that won’t be the case at all. 
You smell too fucking good for him to hesitate any longer, his tongue darting out and dragging from your opening to your clit. He can’t hold in the groan that leaves him at the first taste of you, his cock twitching as your arousal coats his taste buds, heady and rich and perfect. His eyes flutter closed and he buries his face in your cunt, pushing your thighs up to your stomach so he has more room to work. 
He feels your hands against his, feels them hooking beneath your knees to hold your thighs up for him, and he moans gratefully in response, setting his thumbs on either side of your pussy and pulling your lips apart so he can taste you more directly. 
He dips his tongue into your entrance and you clench around it, the sensation making him whimper into your pussy and delve even deeper inside. Just this might not be enough to get you there but you taste fucking heavenly and feel even better, and he’s wanted his mouth on you like this for months. 
So he allows himself to be selfish for a few minutes, fucking you with his tongue just to feel the way you quiver and squeeze around the muscle. Your arousal starts to leak down his chin and he almost regrets the waste of it, pulling his tongue from your pussy to latch his lips to your opening and suck. 
“Seungcheol, please, I need-,” you implore him, your words halting when he fills you with two of his fingers, the digits sinking inside with a squelch. You whine above him and his gaze travels up your body to find your back arched and your kiss-swollen lips parted, every sound that escapes them like music to his ears. 
Fuck, you’re a goddamn wet dream.
His fingers curl inside of you, exploring until he finds that patch of nerves along your front wall. As soon as he grazes it, you gasp brokenly and buck into his touch, making him bite his lip and return his eyes to your pussy and the way it swallows his fingers. His mouth finds your clit and suctions around it, the little bud firm under his tongue as he flicks it back and forth, following your sounds to find what you like best. 
“Cheol, I-I’m getting close,” you moan out in a warning tone, but it only makes him more determined, his fingertips grinding into you and his lips puckering around your clit. You seem to love it when he sucks in pulses and crooks his fingers into your sweet spot at the same time so he sets a quick tempo, hoping to help you find the edge and then tip you over it. 
It happens sooner than he expects, the molten velvet of your cunt tightening around his fingers rhythmically as your cries reach a fever pitch. He doesn’t stop, wonders if he even could when you’re making the noises you are and begging him, “Please, Cheollie, please.”
He would soothe you but his mouth is still hard at work on your clit, his tongue rolling over the bud again and again as his fingers prod that spot inside of you. Soon enough, you can’t speak, just sobbing and sinking a hand into his hair to hold him in place, your thigh falling to rest on his shoulder. 
He doesn’t mind the weight, loves your soft skin against his ear and the feeling of you pressing his face into your pussy, as if he’d even consider pulling away now. You want to cum again, he can tell, and he’s not going to stop until you do. 
He fucks his fingers in and out of you faster, pursing his lips around your clit and sucking deeply, grumbling and groaning into you in encouragement, his brows furrowed and his vision hazy. 
Your cunt spasms around his fingers, growing impossibly wetter and locking down like a vise until all he can do is curl his fingertips into your sweet spot and dig his tongue into your clit. A sharp whine pierces the air and your thigh trembles on his shoulder as you break, arousal gushing out of you in spurts to coat his neck and drip down over his collarbones. 
It’s the only flood he’s ever been thankful for, and before you’ve even started to recover, he’s already voicing his gratitude.
“Fucking beautiful, baby. That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me, oh my god,” he mumbles, pressing kisses along the thigh that rests on his shoulder, withdrawing his fingers to clean them off with his mouth. 
“I didn’t know I could do that,” you whisper dreamily, struggling to lift your head. 
He lowers your thigh and rises to his feet, shaking out his stiff legs before leaning down over you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. The kiss grows deep in an instant, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you wrap your legs around him and pull his body into yours. His aching dick gets trapped in between until you reach down and take hold of it, guiding it to rest against your hot, wet cunt. 
That first bit of contact is enough to pull a low groan from him, the slippery heat of your pussy on the top side of his cock making him throb and leak against you. He’s so fucking desperate for you but there’s only one thing that he wants more than to sink inside of you bare right now, and that’s to respect your wishes (and not get you pregnant… for the next year or two, at least). 
Maybe someday he can fuck you without a condom but that day won’t be today, so with great difficulty, he drags his lips away from yours and reaches an arm out to pull open his bedside drawer. He feels around for a second, exclaiming victoriously when his fingers catch on the box before he takes hold of it and sets it on the bed. 
Looking back at you for approval, he finds you beaming up at him like he hung the stars in the sky just so you could bask in their light, and fuck, he swears he’d rearrange them all in the shape of you, given the chance. 
He fumbles one-handed with the box for a minute, his other hand braced next to your head to keep himself from crushing you, before you take over and tear it open, ripping a packet off the strip and tossing the rest onto his nightstand. 
“We’ll need those for later,” you inform him matter-of-factly as you unwrap the condom and reach down to wrap your fingers around his dick. He’s been leaking enough precum that your hand glides when you pump it up and down, and it takes an astounding amount of self control not to fuck into your grasp as if he’s never been touched before. 
You place the condom at his tip and start to roll it on and even that is heavenly, your touch electric and your eyes bright like the summer sun when your gaze meets his. He feels you line him up, his cock jumping at just the thought of being inside your perfect cunt, barrier or no barrier. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling his hips into yours, and he takes that for the hint it is. 
Sucking in a deep breath, he starts to sink into you, the head of his cock pushing through the tightness of your entrance to disappear inside of you inch by inch. He goes slowly, both to give you time to adjust and to give himself the opportunity to get it together, the blazing heat and intoxicating grip of your pussy wiping out every coherent thought in his brain. There’s a stretch but it’s eased by your arousal, and the way he can feel you relaxing and opening up to accept him is nothing short of exquisite. 
“How does it feel?” He gasps out raggedly, watching your face as he finally bottoms out. Your eyebrows are scrunched up and your pretty lips are parted, soft breaths escaping as you hitch your thighs up higher on his waist and let your eyes blink open. 
They’re full of tears, making him blanch and immediately start to pull his hips back, sure that he’s hurting you and you’ve been unable to even speak through the pain to tell him. 
“No, stay! Stay, Cheollie, it’s fucking perfect,” you plead in a broken voice, hugging him closer with your legs and wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Then why are you crying?” He asks, confused and still slightly worried though the fluttering of your walls around him is enough to make him want to cry too. 
“I’ve just wanted you for so long, and you make me feel even better than I ever dreamed you would,” you tell him through a wobbly smile. ���I think you’re my missing piece.” 
“Baby,” he sighs lovingly as he melts against you and drops down to his elbows to press his lips to yours, the movement burying him just a bit deeper inside and making both you and him moan in pleasure. 
He doesn’t think he even knows words that could explain how flawless, how right you feel around him, but he can at least try, for you. 
“Being inside of you is like… coming home. Like I’ve been wandering in the cold my whole life and I finally found somewhere soft and warm and safe to rest. I kind of want to never leave,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours and gazing into your eyes as he speaks. 
“You may not be able to stay forever but I’ll always want you to come home again,” you promise him gently. “You will leave enough to move, though, right? Because-”
Laughing, he squeezes his eyes shut and steels himself before pulling his hips back a few inches, the drag of your clenching walls on his cock enough to steal his breath even with the latex in between. He tries to go slowly as he presses back into you, but the igneous embrace of your cunt draws him in with one effortless, gliding thrust. 
Somehow, burying himself inside of you the second time feels even better than the first, and it’s easier to withdraw from your warmth again when he realizes that the pleasure will only compound as he moves more and more. 
Fighting to keep his eyes open and on your face while he establishes a rhythm, he builds speed until the catch in your breath and the fluttering of your eyelashes tells him he’s found the best pace for you. He can’t make it out more than a couple inches before your legs around his waist stop him, but he loves that you want him inside as much as he wants to be inside, so he just puts more power behind his hips as he slides back in to make sure you feel it. 
Time starts to pass and he falls into something like a trance, the feeling of your pussy clinging to him as he leaves and cradling him as he returns hypnotic. It’s almost as if he’s lost the ability for complex thought and replaced it with pure sensation, just acting on instinct now that his brain has been rendered useless. 
It doesn’t help that your gaze is deep, mesmerizing, fucking magnetic. He can’t look away, feels like he can’t even blink as he fucks into you, his face close enough to yours that he’s breathing your air. Still, he wants to be even closer, wants to burrow inside of you, climb into your ribcage, and make a home right next to your heart. 
The desire is so intense, it’s nearly frightening, but nothing could scare Seungcheol away from you now. He’s yours, mind, body, and soul, belonging to you in a way he’s never allowed himself to belong to anyone else before. 
He hates to admit it, but he’s already starting to get close. Lasting has never been an issue for him, even in the past few months when all he could think about was you, but thinking about you and being inside of you are two very different things. Your pussy is goddamn magical, everything about fucking you is goddamn magical, and he fears his only hope is in changing positions. 
“Baby, can I- shit, can I fuck you from behind?” He stalls his movements long enough to ask, dreading the moment he’ll have to pull out completely so you can turn over. 
“Um, yes but…I honestly don’t know if I can hold myself up,” you reluctantly admit, like you think it’s something to be embarrassed about. 
“That’s what pillows and my hands are for,” he assures you, smiling at the way you relax and unwrap your legs from his waist, allowing him to begin the process of extricating himself from you. 
Slowly, he begins to draw his hips back, ignoring the alarm bells that ring in his head as he feels his cock leave your heat inch by inch. It’s only for a minute or two, he tells himself, pushing off of you and sitting up so you can get onto your stomach. 
He watches your body move as you roll over, his eyes stuck on the curve of your plush ass before you get your knees under you and they shift to the gleam of your wet, fucked open cunt. Keeping his gaze on you, he reaches to the head of the bed and grabs the two pillows that rest there, sliding them under your hips one after another. You sink into position, your back arched and your cheek pressed against his sheet, completely relaxed even with your body on full display for him. 
The groan escapes without his permission, the memory of your taste on his tongue making his mouth water. Before he knows it, he’s on his stomach too and burying his face in your pussy, reaching up to press down on the small of your back so you arch even deeper into him. 
“Cheol!” You gasp, pushing back onto his tongue when he shoves it inside of you, making him whimper into your cunt as he devours you. 
“Never gonna get enough of this pussy, fuck,” he mutters as he shifts his focus to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking in pulses. He doesn’t know how long he eats you out, just that he goes until you’re dripping down his face again and squirming against him, desperate to cum. 
“Seungcheol, please, I ne-need your cock, need you to fill me up,” you cry out, reaching back and gripping one of his hands where it holds you down. 
His dick jumps and leaks into the condom at your words, the plea in your voice sparking a shiver he feels all the way from his scalp to his toes. Pulling his tongue from you, he rises back up on his knees and shuffles forward, taking hold of his cock and gliding it up and down the seam of you, nudging at your clit. 
“Cheol,” you begin, likely about to threaten him. He would love to hear it but your entrance catches on the head of his dick and he can’t resist the alluring, feverish depths of your cunt, sliding inside in one long, ruthless thrust. 
You keen when he reaches the end of you but you also tilt your hips to accept the last inch, the snug clutch of your pussy near mythical in the bliss it brings him. With one hand gripping your hip to hold you up and the other firm on the small of your back to keep you in place, he starts thrusting in and out of you. 
The tempo he takes is brutal, fierce, the force of his hips impacting your ass making it ripple and bounce as he fucks into you. His hearing is fuzzy with how fucking good it feels but he can still make out the smack of his skin against yours and the slick sound of his cock gliding through your wetness. There’s a squelch every time he bottoms out, and accompanied by your whines and whimpers, all of the noises combine to create a masterpiece of a melody. 
Seungcheol truly thought the pause would help but he’s right back where he started, throbbing and leaking for you and so fucking close to the edge, he’s concerned he’ll make it there before you do. Sure, you already came twice, but you deserve a third, a fourth if he can hold himself back long enough - one orgasm for every month he spent not making you cum. 
The hand on your back slips around under your hips, working itself down between your legs to find your clit. It’s swollen beneath his fingers, slippery from the arousal his dick keeps pushing out, which only makes it easier to swirl circles into the bud, the way your pussy instantly clenches around him making him moan roughly. 
The added resistance just enhances each stroke, your walls trying to suck his cock back in when he pulls out and hugging him tighter and tighter every time he pushes inside again. He fears he won’t be able to make you cum without it making him cum too, but there’s something so poetic about finding that euphoria together that he can’t be bothered about breaking this soon. 
“Getting close, baby?” He asks, fairly sure what your answer will be. 
“Yeah, Cheollie, wan-wanna cum with you inside me so bad,” you gasp, craning your neck to look back at him. “Thought about it every time I-” 
You can’t finish your sentence when his fingers start to move faster, but he thinks he knows where you were going with it. 
“Every time you fucked yourself, you wished it was me instead, huh?” He teases a little meanly, knowing he has no room to talk.
Your face crumples as you nod, tears filling your eyes, and he leans down over you, his hand leaving your hip to brace himself so he doesn’t suffocate you. He presses his lips to your cheek, your jaw, your neck, murmuring, “I did the same fucking thing, baby, and I always wanted it to be you.”
“Promise?” You whisper, a vulnerable tinge to your voice. He’s reminded that, until tonight, you had no idea how he felt about you. This is all still new, and he needs to be kind, delicate, reassuring as you acclimate to the reality of him being in love with you. 
Stopping all movement so you can fully focus on his words, he whispers back, “Cross my heart and hope to die. Ever since we met, I’ve thought about you, wanted you, dreamed about you. I fell for you. You’re it for me.” 
“You're it for me too, Seungcheol,” you tell him gently, before asking, “Can I turn back over? I want you to hold me.”
He answers by smacking one last kiss to your cheek and climbing off of you, helping to roll you onto your back and pulling one of the pillows out from under your hips, leaving you slightly elevated but not so much that it’s uncomfortable. Sighing contentedly as he stretches himself out along your body, he slides his forearm under your shoulders to pull you into his chest and holds himself up with that elbow, slipping the other hand between your bodies to guide his dick inside of you. 
“Better?” He confirms, grinning when you nod shyly and wrap your arms around his neck, your legs rising to encircle his waist as he sinks back into you. He hopes you feel as held by him as he feels by you, the sheer comfort and safety of your body enough to make his eyes water this time. 
He moves slowly, carefully, rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, never leaving you more than halfway before burying himself inside again. The brief pause did wonders for his self control, his release feeling far enough away that he thinks he really might be able to get you there once before he lets you pull him over the edge too. 
Until you start kissing him, that is. 
Once your lips meet his and your tongue slips into his mouth, every part of him is wrapped up in loving you. There’s not a single thing on his mind except for you, every thought dedicated to kissing you, fucking you, pleasing you, and it feels so goddamn right. Like this is what he was made for. 
And fuck if that doesn’t have him closer than ever before, his cock pulsing and leaking into the condom, the latex probably the only thing keeping him from cumming right now. If he could feel you bare, it would be over for him, and as much as he wants to experience you without the barrier, he’s thankful for it. 
His fingers settle back onto your clit and start to rub circles around it, his mouth catching the gasp you let out when his hips scoop on the next thrust in and drag the head of his cock against your g-spot. 
He can’t hit it with every stroke, not when he wants to get as deep as possible, but combined with the work of his fingers, he can feel you getting closer each and every time he does graze the erogenous patch. 
You stop kissing him to tilt your head back and let out a long, high-pitched whine, and he knows it’s almost time. He doesn’t change a thing, not when your nails dig into his shoulders, not when your hips buck into his, not even when your pussy starts to swallow around his cock. He just keeps his steady pace, continues to roll your clit beneath his fingers, and hopes, prays, wishes that pleasure will find you before it washes over him. 
“Please, please, please baby, please fucking cum for me,” he begs, every muscle in his body tensing as he fights to hold off his own orgasm. It’s not in vain, thank fucking goodness, because you whimper brokenly as your pussy starts to undulate around him, growing tighter and tighter until he can’t move, can barely even breathe. 
You’re cumming, fuck, you’re cumming, and so is he, the pulsating of your walls around him making him surge deep inside and stay there as he fills the condom with his cum, his cock jerking and jumping within you. It’s better than it ever has been, every thought in his head wiped out by pure fucking ecstasy and every muscle in his body tensing then relaxing as he succumbs to the urge to just melt into you and let two become one. 
Minutes, or maybe hours, pass before he can pull himself away from you, but eventually you release your hold on him, your arms falling to rest beside your head and your legs gingerly returning to the mattress. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to not be inside of you, but the condom is starting to feel uncomfortable now that he’s softening, especially as full of cum as it is, so he holds the base of it as he withdraws himself from you. 
You pout the whole time and he does too, but you say nothing as he gets off the bed to slip the condom off, tying the end in a knot before dropping it in the bin next to his desk. 
Seungcheol doesn’t know why but he’s nervous to turn back around, to face you again. When he does, though, you just smile up at him sleepily and open your arms, waiting for him to find his place. 
He grins softly and slides back into bed, laying on his back and gathering you up against his chest, humming contentedly when you snuggle into him, your leg tossed over his thigh and your arm wrapped around his waist. 
“We should wash up, but I don’t want to move…” he murmurs, lifting his head just enough to press a kiss to your crown before letting it drop back down, his eyes fluttering closed. 
“I have bad news,” you say quietly. His heart starts to race and his eyes fly open, his arms tightening around you like that’ll protect him from what you’re about to say. 
“What is it?” He asks, hesitation clear in his voice. 
“We forgot my stuff in your car,” you whisper nervously, as if that’s something he would actually get upset with you over. 
He can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of him, tinged in both love and relief, though he does muffle it in your hair. 
“That’s not so bad, baby. I’ll go get your water and bag, and you start the shower, okay?” he proposes, already planning to jog so he can make it back in time to rinse off with you. 
“Okay,” you sigh happily, sitting up and rolling out of bed before prancing over to the ensuite, fully fucking naked. 
Yeah, no way in hell is he staying on that goddamn couch tonight. 
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AN: what a fucking journey this was!! I’m so happy i kept yall updated through it because it was so nice to have you cheering me on and to know you were excited for it to come out 🥺 did i expect it to be three times as long as part one? no! are their feelings a bit dramatic? yes! is this fanfiction? yes, so i can make it as dramatic as i want! people get married after one month, they’re allowed to be in love after four! ps you don’t know how hard it was to keep more breeding kink from slipping into this like it’s borderline impossible for me to write seungcheol without breeding kink but i did my best and i did it for you
all i have left to say is this: you deserve someone who will love you like seungcheol loves reader! you deserve someone who will listen to you and respect you and do everything in their power to make you feel good! that’s what i, user sluttywoozi, wants for you! remember that the next time you think about settling for less than what you deserve!
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Taglist: @so-da-1 @plskillme22 @nightshadeblooming @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @gyuguys @jennwonwoo @lelestarmy @disneyprincessshuri @alexbarberry @scoupsjin @sourkimchi @bangrauhl13 @meowmeowminnie @jungkooknippleanddicksucker @lukeys-giggle @polyglot-ton267 @bubbletroubble @bouclesdefeu @sunshinekyeom-sang @ujimatchaaa
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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 months ago
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Don't Run Off Like That
You told the LADS Men to not piss you off and what did they do? Pissed you off. How I imagine they would react to you storming off in tears and you're not answering their calls or texts. [Requested by: Anon]
Zayne
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The minute you run off Zayne would watch you retreat not because he doesn't want to chase you, but because he's going through every possible outcome in his head on whether he should follow you or not.
By the time he decides to follow you're already out of sight. Now you have him walking through the streets of Linkon looking like a lost puppy. After about five minutes of blowing your phone up he's turning into Sherlock Zayne and doing some deductive reasoning about where you may have gone.
He was relieved to find you wrapped up in a blanket. Not in your bed, but in his instead.
Zayne: Please never run off like that again MC: I can't argue with you especially when I'm pissed off I'll always lose Zayne: its not really a competition it's us vs the problem MC: I know that which is why I didn't want to argue with you especially in public Zayne: I feel the same MC: I just needed to calm down Zayne: *Smiles* In my bed? MC: .... Your scent is calming I just didn't want to hug you while I was mad at you so your bed was the perfect solution
Rafayel
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Rafayel is immediately chasing after you the minute you storm off, but of course you break out into a full sprint. He would be STRESSED. This man gets antsy when you don't reply fast enough. Now you're not replying and he can't find you? Yea his chest hurts. He's calling you on speaker phone just so he can continue texting you. After about ten minutes of your phone blowing up non-stop you share your location with him.
He found you in his kitchen, sitting on the counter, eating all his snacks. "I thought you got kidnapped or something!"
"Need I remind you I'm a trained fighter and constantly have a gun on my hip?" Rafayel would roll his eyes before taking the snacks from your hands and slotting himself between your legs. He rested his head in the crook of your neck while taking deep calming breaths.
Rafayel: Why did you run off like that? MC: I didn't want to say anything I'd regret so I needed time to myself Rafayel: So you turn into sonic the hedgehog? MC: I knew you'd come find me Rafayel: I'll always find you.
Xavier
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Let's be so for real Xavier is on you. If you try to run from him he gonna teleport in front of you. So in order to get away from him you have to excuse yourself and then dip out when he can't see you. That whole turn around and storm off you planned on doing? Not happening that mf way too fast.
He would realize you've been gone for a while so he'd text you with concern. A few minutes pass and he starts getting worried. He's immediately on the move looking for you; checking your location, trying to get the coordinates on your watch. He'd call Jeremiah asking if he'd seen you as he's running around.
He manages to find you in the Hunters Association doing research on the increase in wanderers.
Xavier: You'd rather do research than talk to me? MC: You pissed me off and I hate arguing with you ... I needed something to take my mind off it Xavier: I don't enjoy it either but please don't disappear like that you almost gave me a heart attack MC: I needed to calm down Xavier: There's nothing wrong with that I just .... if something happened to you I don't want our last words to be out of anger you know? MC: I know ... I don't want that either
Sylus
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Sylus would feel terrible for making you upset enough to storm off in tears, but he'd let you blow off some steam before coming to find you. He would definitely have the twins contact you first before he showed up. He'd have Mephisto watch you and report back to him as well.
You didn't go far he knew you'd storm off to one of your favorite places on base. The home library. He found you curled up on one of the giant bean bag chairs that you just had to have(he couldn't say no of course)
Sylus: May I come in? MC: Permission granted Sylus: I didn't mean to upset you Princess MC: Im sure you didn't mean to but you did and we're at a good point in our relationship I don't want to say anything I'll regret later Sylus: I don't mind you cursing me out MC: I mind Sylus: Are you ready to talk? MC: Yes, but I want a foot rub as we talk Sylus: *chuckles* I may have spoiled you too much MC: Is that a no? Sylus: *Grabs your foot* I'll do anything for you as long as you talk to me
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reshinless · 2 months ago
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──── day 2: dnd on the hotel door.
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⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. wherein your friends give him.. more than just suggestive photos at your wedding. (you had a private boudoir photoshoot prior to it!)
⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich, neuvillette, zhongli, tartaglia, capitano x gn!afab!reader. !!NSFW/SUGGESTIVE CONTENT!!
⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. saw a cute tt of this exact topic (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠) will do diff characters next week!
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kinich who'd already been so nervous for whatever was to come on this day; he was always more than willing. he knew the first laugh you both shared. the first kiss you both partook in, not everyone he's kissed had such a long-lasting impact on him, that's if he ever kissed anyone at all (that wasn't you.)
it wasn't all that special he said, but everything you've ever wanted in a wedding was there. he remembered what flowers you'd always pluck from the grounds you traveled on. or the colors that always had your eyebrow twitching just hearing the first letter of the pigment's name.
the venue wasn't necessarily small either, borrowing whatever he could in his homeland to make it perfect, even going as far as to asking others for help on what to embellish the locale in.
for as long as you've known him- kinich wasn't much of a romantic. letting you take the lead instead, switching up occasionally by spooning you alternatively. but you remembered he'd always laid his head atop your chest, from the nightmares of his own past, and regrets; he found peace in listening to your heartbeat, and feeling your torso heave slowly.
he wanted to make you feel special today & tonight. so he wants to do it right at least. he tried to fluster you in a way that you'd be surprised, aware he wasn't very amorous.
or at least that's what was in his point of view because you had a whole other plan ready for him. but you didn't know about the surprises he'd throw either.
the whole theme of the wedding was based on his tribe, encased with traces of your own home/favorite colors.
but something that you'd see as a surprise this afternoon was kinich's suit. it wasn't the usual black suit and tie. no- he wore.. your initial around his neck, and his tie was the color of your eyes.
you felt your eyes water a little, walking down the aisle, your arm entangled with the guardian who's been with you since day one. (or whoever you'd like!)
after the classic bouquet toss, and squealings later. you told your newly-wed husband your bridesmaids had a surprise for him. he didn't think much of it; meeting them before, they seemed nice enough. (one of them is mualani btw :3)
mualani who stands beside kinich briefly for the picture, she hands him a polaroid photo from the photographer's kamera. "what is-" he gets cut off, his face turning to playfully sour until it slowly changes to his usual stoic behavior (he doesn't know his face is turning redder by the second)
"you.. hmm." he awkwardly nodded after another picture was taken of his reaction, cheeks aflame; the picture was still so clear in his mind. now it couldn't get out!
the mental image of your body in frilly lace/in nothing but a blanket over you, a simple layer of clothing that stopped him from seeing your bare body- fuck he could feel himself get hard already.
and the more time that passed, progressing with each photo being taken, the worse his boner got. shit he can't believe you're his. and he's damn well lucky to have you.
even as he stood idly, talking to some of the guests, some more of the bridesmaids came up to him, handing him more scenes for him to visualize in his head.
"ahh.. may i excuse myself from this conversation?" he politely bows and walks away to where you were. the eventide's stellar in the sky definitely wasn't shining each time he saw you. oh there it is- that laugh he always loved and fell in love with again each time he heard it.
"pretty.. ahh.. there's something i.. need help with."
kinich who's already in your newly bought home, hurriedly stripping you of your clothes, ready to devour you and eat your cunt out to his content.
kinich who could only palm his erection, as his mouth latched onto your wetness was already waiting for him. your taste, how it smelled, how your slit was already so wet for him- you knew what you were doing. and it worked really damn well.
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neuvillette who was already nervous, throughout the proposal, even you relationship before being fiancees, I mean, it was you, why wouldn't he be worried? he was ready to jump off a cliff if anything went wrong if he'd tell the truth, but he'd never say that.
neuvillette who sighed with relief, the days of worrying that something bad might happen to you on your special day with him. taking pictures with the bridesmaids for the wedding's little picture book for you to look back on soon, and maybe even for your kids to look at and call you both corny for.
neuvillette who suddenly received 3 photo frames from 3 of your bridesmaids, confused as he took a look at it, he could only feel the rush of warmth crawling up from his neck to his ears. his horns grew the more he looked into the photos.
"w- where did you get this?" he observed the room shyly, looking for any signs of you, why? to help him out with 'something' of course. no one could take care of it better than you did.
they simply shrugged and walked away, whispering and chuckling to each other. awkwardly walking to find you, pulling you to the side, inside one of the venue's main buildings, bringing you into one of the bedrooms.
"you didn't need to tease me like this." you were pinned to the bed once the wedding ended. the painful boner you had caused hadn't gone away, even now, throbbing, missing where it's supposed to be (inside you)
ripping your wedding dress off your body (not really, just making sure you get out of it without ruining it), he couldn't wait to fill you with his seed. he wanted to see personally if you could take all of him in. he could only caress the very rim of your hole, teasing you with his fingers before he would finally split you apart with his cock.
from the amount of time, he's been alive, his stamina would be unmatched, so it'd be entirely up to you for how long you wanna do this :)
it felt as if he was such a meanie, but his words were different- praising you, and gently holding your wrists in place. it didn't quite match the pace of his cock drilling itself inside you though, it felt deep, and it looked as if the night has barely even started. oh well.
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zhongli had never thought of the idea of marriage until he overheard you speaking about it with a few of your friends. it wasn't you necessarily hoping he'd propose, but you were the only one within the group of four to have not been married yet!
he knows you'd never leave him for another, but adding a ring to your pretty little hand definitely would tell all the other men and women alike who try to hit on you to say everything for him.
the wedding was more than just a delight, it was planned to the very smallest of details. it was beautiful, even on a budget of somewhat a lot but not too much; it made sure to shine brighter than most of the stars that night.
before he could sweep you into his arms, and take you upstairs into the home you both chose out before the wedding; some of your bridesmaids, along with your maid of honor had handed him a book.
they said nothing but laughed and walked away to the food section, looking through the book and oh wow.
he hadn't learned what a boudoir was but he definitely enjoyed what he was seeing now. flipping through the pages, staying to the side so no one else could see what was happening. he'll have to ask you about that lingerie set later, white definitely complimented you..
"s'dirty.. you tease me like this, even on our special day? mmmf.." you sat down on his cock, as he showed you off in the mirror. the same lingerie set you wore in the photo book was already ripped off your body, and on the floor. geo marks that scattered, covering most of his arms caressed your thighs that trembled.
his strong arm ran over your body, carefully exploring every inch of you that he could. the thought of being legally, and weddedingly(?) yours. you have his last name now.
he could only imagine how much more pleasure he'd want to give you throughout tonight. he could only praise you for taking him so well, watching you try and use his cock for your own, but he's too big :(.
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tartaglia who introduced you with pride to his family after proposing. but watching you treat his little sister and brother so well.. oh he had to get you pregnant.
but for now, he'd put those thoughts to the side, and enjoy his and your special day, no lust, just love.
you had other plans though. and he wasn't gonna complain.
a couple of your bridesmaids took pictures with him for the futurity of the book of photos for his siblings to look through as well. but after each photo, they all handed him Polaroids.
"what's this?" he looked at them confusedly, but all they did was "just look at it!" "you won't regret it!" and boy he sure did not!!! ssshit just covered in a blanket, no nothing underneath? you wanna get fucked tonight?
he pushed you against the wall of the master bedroom. "mmm.. w'na try to get me hard like that again in public, and I'm gonna do a looott worse than tonight, baby."
the ring on your finger he saw as your hand held onto the wall while he stripped you- he couldn't help but let out a loud as hellll groan. even when he held you down to the bed, he made sure to kiss the jewelry on your finger that meant you're his for life.
while you ride him, his eyes are always on the necklace that has his initials on it, watching it bounce up and down on your chest. for the longest time; he was foreign to the idea of even a relationship, let alone getting to marry someone. but he was gonna make sure you'll feel what he couldn't express throughout time.
when he's soo obsessed with nutting inside you, he holds your hips down onto his, making sure not a drop will be wasted. he could already imagine what your kids with him would look like.
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capitano who preferred a more quiet wedding. one between simple friends, and I guess co-workers (he was against it but you invited them anyway.)
so in this sense, columbina, arlecchino, and signora had agreed to accompany you as your bridesmaids. tsaritsa also agreed to bless your wedding (because she agrees that you are strong, mentally, and physically, and give capitano something to look forward to, unlike before.)
i guess the others attended (most attended just to say congrats and leave, pierro was best man)
accompanying you down to a glass garden house nearby the venue you chose out, but before he could proceed, your three bridesmaids stopped him. cheeky smiles on signora, and columbina's lips- arlecchino handed him a book.
"they want you to have this." the fourth harbinger states, leaving with the two ladies simply giggling and walking off, opposite sides of arlecchino.
he questioningly opened the book while about to walk back to you but oh. wow.
as he catches up to you, he's still a bit flustered, but quickly composed himself once more. "are.. you trying to tease me, kitten?"
and as much as he hasn't had any experience in a long while, oh boy is he ready to find out if he still got it or not
but capitano never knew he'd be so turned on to think about what real married life had to offer.. like kids. he knew he couldn't necessarily have them since he's a harbinger, but a man can dream, right?
anyways he's already pulling your hair from behind, while he has you doggy style on the mattress. I don't know cause I get the feeling he would.
a tight hold onto the strands of your hair. "fffuck.. this is what you get for looking so fuckin' hot.." he groans.
even so when he isn't fucking your pussy with sloppy thrusts from behind- he's fingering you with his long fingers that make you go wild.
he does take note that his fingers are pretty long, so he's pretty careful when it comes down to that.
you sitting on his lap while he admires you in the mirror, watching how you reacted to simply him adding another digit inside your hole, as another hand held onto your left hand, caressing the ring that binded you to him. he couldn't be happier!
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 months ago
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Sebastian (Pressure) fluff. I need it.
"I gotta ask, do you have personal beef with those Squiddles? Because you sure like harassing them with that light of yours."
"I don't do it on purpose! If that damn Angler stopped killing the lights in every big room, maybe I could see my own hand in front of me!" You scowled up at the sea creature while standing in his humble shop.
Why was Sebastian always taunting you whenever you died to something unexpected..only to act all friendly-like in this place?
Well, you had to be grateful he was the only thing down here that wasn't trying to kill you, and that no other monsters could barge into the shop when you least expect it.
So for once, you could breathe easy..
Until he decided to remind you of those creepy squids who were somehow always in your way.
He must get a kick out of watching you perish.
"Oh of course, blame everybody except yourself." He tsked. "You have more than enough clues on how to survive each creature you encounter...but maybe they should've spoonfed all the details to you instead-"
"I don't need this from you." You huffed. "My damn hands are cramped from holding a locker shut against Pandemonium, Eyefestation gave me a killer headache, nobody bothered to tell me about the people in the walls-"
"And don't forget about those Squiddles, hehe."
Silence.
"Okay, okay. I've had my fun. I'll shut up about them now."
"Thanks. You have any medkits available?"
"Right on my tail, buddy. Hope you got enough data."
"More than enough." As your eyes surveyed the items strapped to his tail, they eventually wandered over to the desk with batteries laying out.
But it wasn't them that caught your interest, but rather the file on the table. 'How curious..is this for a monster I'm gonna meet soon?' You went over to investigate.
"Is the document for sale?"
"Wow, you might be the first to ask me about that and be able to afford it! The others before you barely had enough for a flashlight." Sebastian chuckled, clasping his hands together. "If you're interested, give me a thousand data, and I'll have it ready for you to read when you return to the surface. And don't worry, it's all there. So I won't have to kill you to to reveal any information."
You blinked, realizing what he meant by that as you read the folder's cover and why he was asking so much for it.
Sebastian's Document
Of course, you knew he'd be recognized as a specimen, too, but to be put with Pandemonium, the Anglers, and all those other monsters that tried to eat you alive?
For some reason, it made you frown a little.
"This is your file, and they let you keep it?" You turned back to him.
"...I stole it. And I'm not gonna lie...I regret reading it." He muttered, suddenly looking a bit tense..and sad, even, although he was quick to mask any signs of vulnerability when he realized you were staring. "Anyways, it's a steep price. I'm sure you'd rather spend your assets on-"
"What if I buy it and take it off your hands right now?"
For a moment, his ear fins perked up with surprise, glowing eyes widening. But he was quick to give you a suspicious gaze. "Really? You're that nosey about my lifestory? Pretty weird if you ask m-"
"It's more of a courtesy to you."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"I mean..you look like you're carrying a heavy weight just from that folder being there. You haven't stopped looking at it since I mentioned it." You pointed out, seeing his ears twitch again. "You've always told me "out of sight, out of mind" with the Anglers. Couldn't I say the same about you and that document?"
".....using my own words against me, eh? What're you, a damn psychologist?" He teased, although his words didn't hold as much spite or sarcasm as usual. "But no, you're right. I'd rather forget about it forever. So if you want it that badly, be my guest." His third arm made a grand gesture towards the table. "Just don't get caught parading it around. And don't come crying to me when you realize you needed something else instead of-"
"I won't, trust me." You exchanged the data, taking the folder. "I'll be on my way now. I got a crystal to find."
With that, you began ducking down to renter the vent and continue your journey into the abandoned site-
"Hey."
You paused and looked back at Sebastian, tilting your head as you wondered why he seemed nervous again--wringing his hands together.
"Um..thank you, genuinely..for taking that off my hands." He cleared his throat, sweeping back his dark bangs. "I hope that whatever you find in there doesn't..get in the way of our "partnership". I'd hate to lose my number one customer."
Nodding, you gave him a reassuring smile. "You won't lose my business, Seb. That I promise."
"..now hold on we aren't THAT close to start going by nickna-" He began to snap, but you've already disappeared into the duct. "Aaaand they're gone...hmph..well..least I don't have to worry about that anymore."
Sighing, he looked around the shop, wondering what he should do now.
What you did was certainly a nice gesture.
He only hopes you'll keep your promise and not be afraid of him.
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tsukimefuku · 5 months ago
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3rd of july ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆.˚ nanami kento
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piece written in collaboration with my beloved friend and one of my favorite people, @rahuratna, for nanami's (a.k.a. internet's collective husbando) birthday. 💜🧡 content warning: fluff/comedy/sugestiveness word count: 1k
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Nanami wasn't one to make big celebrations on his birthday. Up until he met you, he'd usually go about his work day quietly, saving up a few extra hours to simply go bowling or visit his favorite restaurants for dinner.
After you both started dating, not much had changed. You'd simply tag along for whatever he had planned, and would usually surprise him with something by the time you both got home - a box of dark chocolate, a new set of lingerie, a nice warm scented bath, a new CD album he had been looking for.
This time, however, you decided to push your luck on teasing the poor man.
On his birthday, of all days.
"Kento, how do you feel about surprise parties?" you ask, hiding the smile pulled on your cheeks behind your tea cup.
On the couch by your side, you could feel Nanami holding the urge to flinch the moment you were finished speaking.
"They are not my favorite," he answers in earnest.
"Seriously?" you inquire with a faux disheartened look.
"Yes," Nanami replies, with a tinge of concern to his voice.
"That is... unfortunate, then," you ensue, putting your tea on the coffee table and pulling your robe tighter around your body.
His Adam's apple bobs as he silently gulps.
"Why?"
"Well, my plan was to surprise you when you got home, but I figured you wouldn't want to get instantly jumped. So I told them to wait in the room," you finally say, with a grave finality, pointing to the closed bedroom door.
Truth is, he has no clue what you are really up to.
"Darling…" Nanami sighs, ever so patiently, "I thought it would just be the both of us unwinding, like the past years."
"I… I'm sorry, I really wanted to surprise you with something different this time."
You do sound regretful, and he plants a soft kiss on your cheek in response. Even now, he doesn't quite find it in himself to be annoyed at you, even if the prospect of Gojo lurking around his bedroom is enough to send disgusted shivers down his spine.
"It's… fine. Let's get this over with at once, and then have the house to ourselves."
"Are you sure? I could always go in there and tell them to-"
"No," he counters firmly. "You've arranged something a little different this year, and I'm going to appreciate it."
"Come on, then."
As perceptive as he is, Nanami doesn't notice the mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Naturally, since you have successfully planted a seed in his mind, a terrifying image of his pristine suits being tried on by students and his custom made bowling ball being transformed into a disco light by the white-haired menace he calls a colleague.
When you reach the door and step aside for him, he visibly braces himself, fingers almost straightening a phantom tie at his throat.
"Sweetheart, I need to go and fetch a scarf. It's a little chilly in here."
Bless his heart. He's actually playing along.
You raise your voice.
"Oh, I left the blue one on the top shelf. Your closet."
"Right."
Nanami heads in with the air of a man charging from the trenches to face a volley of cannon fire. He stops dead in his tracks, eyes taking in the room.
It is empty of people, for starters.
The comforter on the bed has been pulled back, the white sheets scattered with rose petals. Candles have been placed strategically on the bedside table and vanity, emitting the subtle scent of the ocean. On a corner of the bed, a few ribbon-wrapped gifts await; a small stack of books and a box of his favourite dark chocolate with orange.
You saunter in behind him and he turns to you with a look that is both a solemn reprimand and a loving promise of a punishment you may appreciate later.
"Hmm. It's awfully crowded in here, my dear."
"Well, the rose petals were quite chatty, Kento. They've taken up all the space on our bed."
"They have indeed, you little-"
You laugh as you slip out of his reach, standing coyly in the doorway.
"Have a look at your gifts first."
He narrows his eyes, but approaches the bed, fingers unraveling the ribbon that holds the books together.
"What do we have here? 'The Master and Margarita.' Ah, wonderful. 'Bowling your way home: A salaryman's escape from bondage.'"
He pauses and raises an eyebrow and you gesture airily for him to keep going.
"Fine. What's this one? The-"
His voice cuts off abruptly.
"Kento? Are you all right?"
Very slowly, he turns to you.
"You got me the Kama Sutra?"
"I figured it would make a nice addition to your collection. I may even borrow it, from time to time."
You approach him now, casually opening the book to where you've placed a strategic leather marker within the section on sex positions.
"Since it's your birthday, maybe you'd like to start with the Virsha here?"
He considers the page seriously, before taking the book from you and flipping through it.
"I'm not sure, darling. You've put in enough effort setting all of this up."
Handing it back to you, he watches the flush that spreads upwards, across your neck as you are presented with the Indrani pose he has chosen instead.
"How about you let me do the work from here on out?"
"Well... "
"No, I insist."
His voice has that special intonation now, the husky rumble of desire, the inflection of hushed intimacy, the promise of that playful nature that only reveals itself when you're entangled in the sheets together.
You lay the book down, open to the very instructive illustration.
"In that case, let me present you with my last gift."
"There's another?"
Wordlessly, the robe you've been so studiously arranging around yourself slides to the floor. His kindling gaze takes in the sheer, violet lace, the tiny flowers embroidered strategically over the parts of you that he will discover at leisure.
***
Later, when the gossamer material lies discarded on the floor, when his exhausted limbs entwine with your own, when his golden hair runs like silk between your fingers, you speak into the hush of the bedroom.
"Happy birthday, my love."
His voice is muffled from where his face is pressed against your stomach.
"That was quite the surprise party."
"Maybe we should have one every year."
He snorts indignantly, but his lips curve in a smile against your skin all the same.
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mariasont · 5 months ago
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maria, i have an ideaaa!!
bimbo!assistant!reader goes on a date with a really shitty guy. and she sneaks away to the back door and calls hotch in the alley to come and save her (it’s also raining). she’s all wet and her makeup’s all ruined when hotch comes.
he then takes her back to his place and takes care of her… and… mushy soft fluffiness happens… and maybe feelings are confessed… and maybe a kiss or 2 happens…🥰💖
TALK ABOUT A BAD DATE - A.H
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a/n: genius, genius, you are an absolute genius!!!!!!!!!!! this was probably my fav bimbo!reader fic to write <3 thank you sm for requesting
masterlist
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pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
warnings: um the rain takes out reader's shirt, so she does kinda flash him for a hot sec, hotch also blatantly checks out her ass, cuties being sickeningly cute, cuties kiss in 4k
wc: 2k
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A perfect, flawless, stunning, never-been-done before outfit wasted on a loser of a guy. Your makeup had taken an hour alone, your hair—well, you didn't even want to think about it because you were certain you were starting to break out in hives.
You steadied yourself against the brick wall, the uneven asphalt beneath your heels threatening to take you down as you fished your phone from the depths of your purse.
You dialed the first number you could think of--Hotch's. His was also the only one you had memorized. The battery icon flashed a warning of five percent as you hunched beneath the alleyway's awning, trying to shield yourself from the rain. You desperately hoped he'd pick up.
There was frankly no plan B if he didn't. Go back inside and ask you so-called date for a ride? That was not an option. The moment he pulled up in one of those big trucks, with its deafening music and roaring engine, you regretted not driving yourself. After all, you were well aware what men were compensating for with a big truck.
"Hotchner."
His voice was gruff, the sound slightly distorted by the speaker. You imagined he had just walked through his door, despite the time being eight o'clock on a Friday night. He was presumably preparing to pour his routine glass of scotch.
"Sir, it's me," you said, attempting to ignore the relentless raindrops assaulting your makeup--a battle they seemed intent on winning. Clearly, the concept of setting spray was foreign to them. "Can I ask you for a favor? If you say yes, I pinky promise I'll stop rearranging your desk. I know you have a system, but it just looks so bland sometimes."
"I'm going to overlook that desk comment," he stated, his sigh audible through the phone. You could picture the pensive frown that came with it. "What do you need?"
You drew your lips into a tight line, looking down to watch the rain mock the effort you had put into your outfit.
"Can you come pick me up? Pretty please with sugar on top?"
"Pick you up? From where? Are you okay?"
You shivered slightly, your free hand instinctively rubbing warmth into your arm. You should've brought a jacket. The thought of sharing this evening's failings with your boss did not sound appealing, so you avoided most of his questions.
"I'll text you the location, okay?"
"Okay, yes, I'll be there. Just stay put."
You thanked him and followed that by a double promise to stay put (he didn't believe you the first time). You also told him you'd wait inside, which was less than truthful. The thought of getting drenched was far more attractive than the prospect of bumping in that women-hating boy again.
You didn't have to wait long, thankfully, spotting Hotch's car turn into the alley, the headlights flaring up like spotlights against your face. You used a manicured hand to shield your eyes, narrowing them against the glare. The distinct sound of a door opening and closing signaled his arrival, and soon, Hotch was striding towards you.
"Christ, get in the car," Hotch insisted, more a command than a suggestion.
He was by your side in an instant, his arm on yours as he opened your door and helped you in. Then, unexpectedly, he reached over you to fasten the seatbelt. You giggled, his hand pausing just above your thigh.
"What?"
The rain gently streamed over his perfect skin, his hair now saturated and plastered to his brow, his blue dress shirt bearing the brunt of the downpour.
"You don't trust me to buckle my own seatbelt?"
"I don't trust you with a lot of things." Completely false. "For instance, your choice of men." Completely true.
He clicked the seatbelt into place and swung the door shut, cutting off any chance of a response, then moved around the car to the driver's side.
You can't help but pout, even as your eyes traced the line of his jaw. "How'd you know?"
Any trace of annoyance vanished as quickly as it came as he placed a hand behind you, giving you an even better view of his profile while he reversed the car. Your focus shifted to the ripple of muscles under his shirt.
"I'm trained to know when someone is in distress and you practically spelled it out. The restaurant, the clothes..." His voice tapered off, disguising his pause with a cough while his gaze flickered over your outfit, his cheeks tinged with a fleck of red. "I've got a spare sweatshirt in the back if you need it."
You traced his line of sight to your chest. Emitting a small squeak, you quickly shielded yourself with your arms, realizing that your white top had become completely see through.
"Totally not embarassing," you say, pursing your lips as you unbuckle your seatbelt.
"It's fine," Hotch insists, but you don't miss how his eyes are now careful not to drift from the road. "Put your seatbelt back on."
"I can't reach the sweatshirt."
You shift to face the back, knees planted on your seat as you lean over to grab just the thing you were looking for. In the rearview mirror you catch the brief moment his eyes do stray, discreetly (or so he thought) sweeping over your ass.
A self-satisfied smile crept across you face as you slid back into your seat, slipping on the sweatshirt. It smelled like him—an intoxicating blend of aged leather and pine. You liked it. A lot.
"So do you wanna talk about it?"
You really didn't. With a sigh, you dug through your purse for your lip gloss. Flipping down the passenger mirror, you froze, confronting your reflection.
"Hotch, didn't you think to mention my face is all... smudgy?"
Your mascara (and setting spray) had betrayed you, leaving dark trails down your cheeks and a slightly unhinged look.
"Your face is perfect," Hotch remarks dryly, like he was tired of you, he undoubtedly was. You were a handful after all. "Why are you avoiding my question?"
You let out a delighted gasp.
"Did you just say my face is perfect?" Leaning over the console, you tap his nose with your finger. "You're just the sweetest."
The look Hotch gives you is flat, expectant as if he knows just what you were trying to do.
"Okay, okay, fine, it was just a terrible date. Like, Hotch, I'm talking disaster-level bad. He made fun of my job, ate like a toddler, and his truck? He wouldn't shut up about it." Your hands are now shuffling through the contents of your purse in a panic. "And now, I can't find my keys."
"Your house keys?"
A breath of frustration flows from you, fingers pulling through your hair as you nod. "Dang it."
You felt a slight unraveling in your usual poise, and the panicking that came with it. Hotch's hand landed on your shoulder, his thumb grazing across your collarbone.
"Hey, it's fine. It's late, and you're upset. You can stay at my place tonight, I'll crash on the couch, and we'll find your keys in the morning."
He made everything seem so simple.
"I'm not upset," you insist, lips pursing as you angle your body just enough to feel his touch more fully.
His hands felt right on you.
He chuckled quietly, his thumb tracing a path from your shoulder to brush away the solitary tear beneath your eye that you hadn't noticed before.
"Must be a raindrop," you shrug. Hotch's soft laugh tells you he doesn't quite buy it. "Are you sure you don't mind me staying over?"
"I'm certain."
"Okay."
"So why did your date make fun of your job?"
"Because," you start, your fingertip lazily sketching doodles on the misted car window, "when I was telling him about being an assistant and working for you, he implied that the only reason you hired me was so you had something pretty to look at."
"Well, he's not entirely wrong."
You let out a surprised giggle. "Hotch!"
You reach over the console, pinching his arm which he just laughed off, pulling into what you assumed was his driveway. You had never been to his house. It was nice. Really nice, the kind you'd find in movies—not imposing, but inviting, with its brick walls and stout brown pillars framing the porch.
You were even more surprised when you entered the house. The image you had of Hotch's house one of meticulous order, a place where you could hear the tick of a clock from rooms away. But this... this was a home. There were throw blankets casually draped over the couch, books overflowing, armchairs worn in just the right places.
You lean down, intent on stripping off the torturous heels, but a wobble has you teetering. Hotch is quick to step in.
"Here," he offers, lifting each foot in turn to his knee, skillfully undoing the straps and easing them off you.
Standing flat-footed, you suddenly feel much shorter, and you wonder if Hotch has ever seen you without them.
You look up at him, smiling cheekily. "My very own prince charming."
He ignored you and moved through the living room. "Do you want a pair of sweatpants?"
"Sharing clothes now, are we? I bet there's a clause against this in the employee handbook."
Hotch raises an eyebrow, "I don't think I need to remind you of the numerous times I've overlooked your creative interpretations of the handbook rules."
"So you're admitting to showing me favoritism?"
You plucked the sweatpants from his hands, not giving him an option to respond as you shuttled yourself into his bathroom. You changed quickly, trading your sopping wet clothes for Hotch's dry, warm ones.
You reentered the living room to find Hotch reclining on the couch with an ease that was new to your eyes. He, too, had slipped into something more comfortable—sweats and a form fitting grey long sleeve that threatened to distract you completely.
You dropped your purse onto the coffee table and settled next to him, maybe a little closer than you should have.
He let out a sound that was more a breath than a laugh, a sound that all the same made your heart flutter unexpectedly. "You've still got some, uh, makeup under your eyes."
He reached up to wipe it away with his thumb.
"It won't come off that way," you said, grabbing his wrist with a soft smile. "I have makeup wipes in my purse."
But he didn't hand you your bag like you would've thought, instead he dug through it, pulling out the wipes and starting to dab at your face. The softness of his touch felt disarmingly intimate, so gentle it coaxed your eyes to flutter more slowly, eyelids becoming more heavy.
Your head tilted downward and Hotch used his free hand to tilt it back up. "Stay still, or I'm going to poke your eye out."
"You're making me sleepy," you murmur, your voice a soft, drowsy hum, but then he moved the wipe to your lips and suddenly you were anything but.
He was even more gentle with your lips, if that was possible, wiping away the gloss like you were made of glass.
Your eyes snapped open, and you found yourself gazing into his warm, brown-sugared eyes, your heart thundering in your chest. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. How did you get so close? You weren't sure, but he was there, noses almost touching.
He pulled away the wipe, using his thumb to clean up left over gloss though you were sure there wasn't any. His hand paused there, resting on your lower lip like it was meant to be there. You felt every fiber of your being stand on high alert. You wondered what he was thinking.
Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him?
"Are you going to kiss me?" You asked, half-hopeful, half-daring, giving a microphone to your inner monologue.
He took a moment, eyes flickering from your lips to your eyes then back down again. "Yes."
It was certain. Like there was no doubt about it, but he didn't move.
"Okay, I'm ready," you breathed out, pulse roaring in your ears.
Hotch's laughter was a low and warm sound. You had heard it a lot tonight.
"You kill me," he said, and it wasn't patronizing—it was affectionate and genuine, and it made your whole body turn to mush.
Then his lips were on yours, and you were both laughing, the sound muffled by lips. It was tentative at first but it quickly morphed into something sweet and soft and perfect.
"Aren't you glad my date went terribly?" you mumbled into his soft skin.
"Devastatingly glad."
One thing was clear—Hotch was not going to end up sleeping on the couch tonight.
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reiderwriter · 6 months ago
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✍️ Dear Diary ✍️
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge
Requested: Hi thereee! I was thinking about a request since I saw they’re open again… I was thinking maybe Con-non con breeding/cream pie?🤭 maybe somnophilia too. S get home en R is sleeping and he just take what he wants but it’s obviously something mutual.
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Dubcon/ CNC, somnophilia, breeding, pet play (kitten/owner), daddy kink, unprotected sex, almost one bed trope, oral (m recieving), Perv!Spencer, dom!Spencer, sub!Reader and just incredibly horny Reader and Spencer.
Summary: Spencer comes across your dream journal and finds out that you're not plagued with nightmares but with wet dreams. And they're all about him.
A/N: Thank you to @reidmotif, who basically told me the entire concept of this fic was forcing Spencer to read smut headcannons about himself and watching the reactions. I think this is the quickest I've ever written something from start to finish 💀
Masterlist || Bingo Board
Spencer didn't know what possessed him to read through your diary, but he couldn't stop when he started. At a single glance, he could tell it wasn't the book that he was looking for, the one you'd sent him to find in your bedroom, the one you'd recommended he read. 
That one was beside it on the side table, but there was something about the black moleskin, laid perfectly flat on the desk, that had his fingers itching as he moved it forward. 
You were otherwise occupied with setting out the plates of takeaway you'd ordered for the six people currently sat in your living room, so knowing his company wouldn't be missed for a few minutes, he sat himself down and began reading. 
Within ten pages, he completely regretted it. 
He'd sussed out by the title page that this wasn't just a normal journal but a dream journal. It was heavily recommended in a lot of the mandated therapy sessions you guys did. Hell, even Hotch had suggested it to him a few times, so he shouldn't be surprised you kept one. 
He was just surprised at the content of your dreams.
He knew his own were dark and painful, and he was curious, thinking that knowing your dreams could help him assist you better through whatever was plaguing you recently. 
In ten pages, he'd managed to suss out that it was him that was plaguing you. 
“May 8th - Woke up hot again. Dreamt of Spencer waking me up with his tongue. Need to get this out of my system.” 
“May 10th - On my back tied to the bed. Spencer again. I'm going to hell.” 
“May 22nd - Kitten ears. And Spencer's cum splashing on my face as a wake up call. I'm a freak!” 
Each entry was similar, and he read on page after page, until he felt his cock stiffening and he had to put the book down and remind himself that there was company just a few doors away. Company that included his friends and a woman who'd been dreaming of fucking him every night for… three months now. 
He took a deep breath. He took a lot of deep breaths, forcing himself to think of the most unappealing things ever as he calmed himself down. 
A voice down the hall called his name, and he dropped the journal like a scalding pot and picked up the other book, opening it to a random page and trying to look convincingly entranced. 
“Spencer, what-?” You asked, seeing him sat on your bed reading the book. He thanked the heavens that the book was a hardback and just big enough to hide the remaining stiffness in his pants while he tried to will it to deflate. 
“Oh, good book, right? I should've known you'd start reading it straight away. Just take it home, Spencer.”
“No, no, it's okay, I don't need-” 
“No, it's fine. You can give it back at the Stanford Review Psychology Seminar next weekend. We're rooming still, right?” 
He took in what felt like a gulp of air, forcing the oxygen down into his lungs as his tongue laid as useless in his mouth as his cock felt in his pants.
“Right.” He managed to get out as you told him to haul his ass back to the living area. 
He took up your journal again, though, and for the next few minutes, committed your diary to memory and left the room. 
“Spencer, come on, kid, what book is as interesting as Wrestlemania?” Morgan said, clapping him on the back as he ripped through a slice of pizza. 
One where the author said she'd woken up mid-orgasm just imagining he'd tied her down. And him specifically.
“Leave the kid alone, you know he's prone to his little fantasies,” Rossi chimed in as well, passing Spencer a beer quickly and cracking one open for himself.
Not the most prone person in the room to fantasies, of course, but possibly the second most prone. 
“Shut up and watch the game, you're making him squirm,” you said from your perch behind his seat on the couch, giving him a quick pat on the shoulders, your fingers lingering just too long. 
And with the word squirm went his whole concentration as he started imagining your small mews and purrs of pleasure, your sleepy face dazed as his fingers roughly curled into your cunt. You'd squirm for him, and you'd do a whole lot more than that. 
The rest of the night tortured him the same way, though thankfully he'd managed to find a pillow to cover up his small - though growing ever harder - issue. At last, he was the last one left in your apartment, the others letting themselves out after you'd crashed on your own sofa just inches from him. 
To be fair, they'd pulled off the herculean task of cleaning up after themselves without waking you, despite your notoriety for sleeping light. 
He'd waved off the others and said he'd get you back into bed, protests quickly falling on deaf ears. Yes, Morgan may have been the better choice to carry your dead-tired weight, but he was also five beers in and just as likely to slam you into the bed a la whatever wrestlers Spencer had been ignoring on the screen all night. 
He'd gotten himself mostly under control anyway, so he'd been able to rush them out of the door, drunk or senile, and managed to turn himself back to you. 
You were curled up in a little ball, like a cat who'd found the perfect cardboard box to sit in. You filled the space and looked comfortable, but he knew you'd be sore in the morning. Either that, or your words had driven him to the brink of insanity and he just wanted his hands on you for once.
He didn't bother trying to fully lift you, knowing you'd definitely freak out and wake up if he tried. 
Instead, he started talking to you in your sleep. 
“Y/N… let's go to bed,” he whispered, pulling your arms limply around his neck as he tugged you upwards with two hands firmly on your hips until you were standing. 
You let out a small whimper of protest, head falling forward to nuzzle into his chest as he started slowly walking you back to your bed. It was a technique he'd used on you more than once, getting you to comply when half asleep on multiple occasions to assist you when drunk or exhausted or both. 
With the revelations of your diary, he thought about talking you into even more in your sleepy state but resisted. 
“Spencer…” you mumbled, gripping him loosely and pressing kisses against his shirt and chest, lazily. 
He had to remind himself you were still asleep, even if you were moving and talking. Asleep, even if you had wanted him to wake you up with a cock in your cunt. Asleep, and not his girlfriend, or lover, or anything more than coworker, as his cock hardened and the backs of your knees finally hit the side of your bed. 
You half collapsed onto it, and we're half lowered gently by Spencer, though in all his uncoordination, he couldn't stop himself from falling directly on top of you. 
“Yes, Spencer…” you sighed, hands brushing up and down his chest above you as he froze solid. 
He was screwed. He'd read every word of that diary. He could imagine exactly what it was you were dreaming of at that moment, and he needed to extricate himself before he did something he'd hate himself for. 
His hand snaked up your waist, just brushing your nipple as he finally dropped it to the bed and pushed himself up. He couldn't touch you anymore without consequences, and while those consequences sounded truly…delightful, he resisted. 
Tucking you into bed, drowning out the sounds of your faint purrs and moans, he rubbed his cock through his pants to ease some of the ache. He denied himself more, grabbing your recommended book from the side table, leaving the infernal journal and closing the door on quite possibly one of the most arousing experiences of his life. 
He was screwed. 
A week passed and left him in his state of screwedness. You may have dreamed of him taking you like that, almost against your will, but he dreamed of you begging him to do so. 
He awoke stiff every day and refused to touch himself, to acknowledge the disgusting pleasure he was getting from his imagination. 
A week full of cold showers and blue balls, and what did it end with except being back in close quarters with your horny ass. 
Screwed supreme. 
You noticed he was acting off very quickly, and you'd commented on it the morning of conference day one, knocking him back slightly with each step towards him you took. 
“Spencer, are you sick?” You said, stepping closer, raising a hand as if to test his temperature. 
“No, no, I just... germaphobic, remember?" he smiled, gently brushing your hand away. He also took another step away from you to stop him from balling his hands into your sides and pushing you down to the floor to have his way with you. 
“That hasn't bothered you before. You literally said last week that we're in the same places so often that we've been exposed to the same bacteria and have likely formed an immuno-connection or whatever-”
“There's just-” he said, now taking another step further away from you, hands up in a surrendering pose to halt your approach. “A lot of people at this conference. It's making me a bit uncomfortable.” 
You seemed to understand that, backing off. And thankfully, just in time, because a second later and his hands would've been tangled in your hair, forcing you to your knees so he could show you just how compromised he could get you. 
You'd dreamt about something similar on March 25th. And April 3rd. 
It wasn't just his own lust for you fogging his mind - he'd dealt with that before, his hand a friendly nighttime companion - but compounded with your own, it was unbearable. 
He looked at you and all he saw was “March 2nd - Begged Spencer to cum inside me, and fill his little kitten as much as he could. Could I convince him to fo that for real?” 
For fucking real.
He felt infinitely more respect for your skills at your job now, knowing that he couldn't go a week without genuinely flinching away from your touch feeling this goddamn pent up, and you'd lasted three months and counting without so much as batting an eye. 
After wandering through the conference all day, listening to the keynote speakers and giving a speech of his own, he'd grown exhausted. He was tired of avoiding you, but it had to be done. The thing he feared the most was breaking and becoming one of the monsters he'd dedicated his life to catching. The thing he feared most was you. 
You'd hugged him when he completed his speech, lingering still after pulling away, so he was still aware of every inch and curve of you. 
“I'm so proud of you,” you said with a smile, straightening his tie. You wouldn't be proud of him if you knew what he wanted to do with that tie. He imagined, even in a crowd of people, pulling you back by your hair - March 31st - and gagging you with the scrap of material - April 17th.
After almost doing just that, he quickly excused himself, and 12 miscalls and 27 text messages later, you'd finally given him what he wanted - “I'm going to sleep now. We need to talk in the morning.” 
He finally crept back to the room you were sharing from a restaurant below. He'd thought about numbing his senses with alcohol but decided against it, not willing to take the risk that he'd numb his inhibitions at the same time. 
It wouldn't be the first time alcohol had made him get handsy with you, scowling as he remembered his hands trailing all over you during karaoke at the Delfino, his hands gripping tighter as the night stretched out longer. You'd both been trying to sing Billy Joel, and then he'd been trying to keep hold of you no matter how much you'd giggled and fidgeted. 
Looking back now, he was sure it was only the presence of every single one of your coworkers and half the FBI that stopped him from covering you in kisses, from pushing his hand up your shirt and playing with you. 
Alone in your hotel room, there was nowhere else. 
Sure enough, though, there was another bed, which he happily threw himself on when he entered, knowing he'd claimed the one closest to the door. 
He sat for a minute, then two, then three, and just knowing you were close had his brain begging to repeat everything it had learnt in your diary. 
“March 1st - I think I had a sex dream about Spencer. I think I really enjoyed it. I think I should avoid him today” 
“March 18th - Used my vibratory before bed and still woke up needy. What would Spencer's cock feel like buried inside of me?”
“April 14th - He took me over a desk in the bullpen while continuing his conversation with Hotch. I almost cried, waking up and finding out it wasn't real.” 
“June 4th - Spencer is coming over tonight, and I spent the whole day masturbating to memories of my own dreams about him…. I'm definitely going to hell.” 
It was as he repeated each of these entries in his head like a mantra that the bed shifted and he felt something next to him. 
Whatever bed he'd thrown himself into, you had decided to occupy as well. He felt your ass first, wiggling up against his crotch as you snuggled into whatever warmth he was offering beside you. 
The content sigh that left your lips was the final straw as Spencer's nerves frayed and his already throbbing cock begged for relief. 
His hands held your hips still as he unthinkingly began to rut into you, rubbing his cock against your ass in any way that would find release. 
He tried to stop himself, but you were mid-dream now, and you were making those noises again. 
Tiny little pants, mewls of pleasure, his name. Jesus Christ, his name. 
He pushed down his boxers as you threw your head back, landing at the crook of his neck, your breath fanning over his skin as you turned over. 
Instead of rutting against your ass, he could now hitch your legs across his thighs and at least get close enough to where he wanted to be, buried in your wet, aching pussy. 
He didn't let himself. Biting his lip, he moved his hands from your hips to his cock, and began a slow, painful attempt at jacking off. 
It should've been easy with you in front of him. He should've already exploded on his hand, especially after more than a week of nothing.
But you were in arms reach and it was as if his entire body was on strike until he sank into you. 
In the end, it was your movements that led him to crack, just like it had been your words in the first place that had moved him to such desperation. 
Shifting uncomfortably again in your sleep, you'd managed to push your leg over his lap and roll on top of him, all while unconscious. 
And then you started moving. Like really fucking moving, like dry humping. Spencer's brain disappeared as he tugged at your clothing to figure out how to remove as much as needed removing. 
Luckily, all he had to do was shift your panties to the side and make sure he didn't get tangled in the rest of your night dress, and, thoughtlessly, he was plunging into your depths. 
He thought it would be that first thrust that would wake him, and though he had his suspicions, he was right. You didn't move. If anything you were quieter now with his cock filling you than you had been dry humping it not a minute earlier. 
You were awake, he knew. You were awake, and you were pretending to sleep. His cock throbbed inside you at the thought and he knew he needed more. 
“March 19th, I dreamed that Spencer woke me up with some cream for his kitten. I called him Daddy. God, I wish it were real,” he whispered in your ear as you continued your facade, quoting your diary back at you as he flipped you over. 
He was gentle still, allowing you to maintain the illusion of sleep even as your heart beat out of your chest and a moan threatened to burst out of your mouth. 
Softly, his hips retreated from over yours, his thick cock withdrawing from your heat before slamming back in. 
“April 12th - Daddy let his good little kitten drink up her spilt milk from the floor. I licked his cum up with my tongue as he fucked me from behind. I'm perverse.” 
Your breathing was way harder to control now, as his hips swayed into yours repeatedly, his real cock stretching further than you'd ever imagined his dream one reaching. You'd never been a good visualiser. 
“Wake up, Y/N,” he said, kissing your neck and replacing his lips with a firm hand at your windpipe. 
“Wake up and talk to me. We're supposed to be talking about earlier, right? You're supposed to be mad at me, but instead, you're close to cumming on my big fat cock.”
You screwed your eyes up tighter as he lifted his head and let his tongue silence the first moan that you let.slip through. He'd won. 
His to guess clashed with yours as you tried to control his pace from under him, tugging your hips up, begging for more of his dick to enter you. 
Sure, you were awake, but to you, this was just another dream, and he wasn't going to let you escape him this time. 
“That's it, that's.my little girl, milk my cock,” he murmured, even as he grabbed your hips again and started setting the pace once again. It was his fingers stabbing into the gate of your hips and stomach that had you finally fully waking up and realizing that this was real, that Spencer had fucked you awake. 
“S-Spencer,” you moaned, chest jumping with each jack hammer, his head buried between them, picking and sucking like some ravenous beast devouring prey. 
“Daddy,” he corrected, sucking one nipple that had popped out of the top of your night dress into his mouth and biting down. 
You arched into the touch, and he didn't let you move away, hands instantly gripping you tighter as you squirmed and fought in his grip. He held tighter still as his dick entered you, again and again. 
Like you were falling asleep again, your brain cleared until there was only him, hic cock, his tongue on your chest, his hands on your ass keeping you in place.
“May 16th - Last night, Spencer was my owner, and he raped me in the middle of the night. He pushed his fat cock into me and I howled in pleasure, stating exactly where he put me until he released his load into me.”
The words were your own, but you couldn't feel any shame heading them, knowing the reenactment felt just as good as you'd hoped it would subconsciously. 
“Y/N, focus on me. Focus on milking my cock like s good little kitten, come on Y/N,” he said, thrusting into you with no qualms now. 
He'd given in, and he'd given in quickly, but if this was the reward, then he was never holding back again. 
“Spencer-” you shuddered out as your orgasm broke through you, his panting writhing form finally pushing you back down into the bed as he continued tutting into you until he, too, could no longer hold back. 
With a painful groan, he came and pulled out of you in an instant, letting his cum leak out of you as he watched. 
You barely had time to catch your breath before he pulled you up, tugging at your hair until you were both on your knees, then pushing you down until your face was level with his softening cock. 
“Clean up your spilt milk, kitten,” he panted, and you complied happily, licking up every drop that had splashed against his cock and stomach and thighs. 
His moans were musical, whimpers and pouts and sinful curses as he held up your hair and tried not to fuck your mouth, enjoying the sensations of your exploring g tongue too much for that. 
When he'd thought you'd done enough, he tugged you up again, wrapping his hands around your body firmly and pulling you in for one more kiss. 
“Next time,” he said, pulling away and panting to catch his breath. “Next time- you have- a dream- just- tell me.” 
You nodded and tried to chase his lips, but he pulled you back down to the bed before you made it  eliciting a small whimper of frustration. 
“You're sleeping in my bed,” he observed, stroking your head as he held you close. 
“You were avoiding me.” 
“I was avoiding you because I've been walking around with a boner for a week, and I didn't want to jump you in a conference room filled with 300 people.”
“You read my diary,” you said, pouting. 
“You let me read your diary. It was wide open on the desk, and you sent me into that room alone, knowing my eyes move quicker than my conscience does.” 
You hummed, smiling in reply but didn't answer the accusations. 
“I wonder what my wake up call in the morning will be like,” you smiled, shutting your eyes and letting yourself fall asleep, his chest pillowing your head and his arms closed tight around your waist. 
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dialovers-lover-xoxo · 17 days ago
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One Shot:
X-Reader with Sakamaki Brothers, Reader is a type 1 diabetic and their blood sugar is so low they think they're going to die
DISCLAIMER: The person who requested this has type 1 diabetes. I asked them for their experiences before writing these one-shots because I wanted to be accurate. That being said, not all people with type 1 diabetes have the same experiences.
Shu
------
You stumbled, holding onto the couch's arm. You could feel your energy slipping away rapidly. "Shu..." you whispered quietly. Your lover, with his earbuds in, didn't hear you. "Shu." You said with as much strength as you could muster - which wasn't very much, but to your relief, one of his eyes opened. He sat up slowly and said your name.
"What's wrong?" You held onto your head and tried to steady yourself, but you ended up collapsing. Shu rushed to your side and cradled you in his arms, his eyes panicked. Your blood sugar had gotten low before...but it was never like this. Your vision was fading fast. You grasped for Shu's hand, holding it limply. "I feel like I'm dying."
Through your blurry vision, Shu's eyes flashed with a mix of anger, fear, and determination. "No." His voice came out form. "I love you." You told him weakly. He growled. "You're fine. You're not leaving me." He gently laid you down on the couch and ran to the kitchen, his long legs running as fast as he could. You could hear him opening a cupboard. His footsteps rushed back and he gently pushed a straw into your mouth.
You leaned up on your elbows and managed to drink. The cold, sweet apple juice didn't immediately bring your senses back to normal, but it would soon. Your vision cleared. Shu helped you into a sitting position and wiped your hair from your forehead. You made eye contact with him, his blues eyes soft. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead. Shu took your hand in his and pressed another small carton of juice into your palm. "Start keeping snacks with you. I won't let you die, ever, but don't scare me like that again."
Reiji
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One second you were fine. The next you were on your knees, barely holding yourself up. Reiji, who had been examining his vials, immediately rushed to your side. You gripped your head as your vision swam and your peripheral vision turned black. Never...it was never like this before. It was slower, you had time to grab something to get your sugar back up. This was different and it scared you to your core.
Reiji was talking by your side, but you could barely compute his voice. "My love, tell me!" "Blood..." you were only able to make out the beginning "sh" sound of sugar, but Reiji knew. He grabbed a syringe from his desk; his syringes were all around the house. He bent down next to you again. "Hold still, my love." He moved your hair to the side and injected the syringe into your neck carefully. Almost instantly you felt better. He had come up this serum almost as soon as you'd entered the mansion, first for convenience, later out of love.
He held your arms and gently lifted you to your feet. You swayed, but ultimately the strength returned to your limbs. He pressed his forehead to yours. "I should've realized what was happening when you collapsed." He lifted his headand cupped your cheek gently. "But it was never like that in the past." "I know." You leaned up and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to Reiji's lips. "But your serum really works. I'm thankful you made it for me." Reiji's eyes softened. "My love, I only regret I can't do more."
Ayato
---------
You swayed, holding onto the counter. "Oi, Titless! What's the hold up?" Ayato rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. His eyes zeroed in on you and he stepped forward carefully, saying your name.
"Hey...talk to me. What's wrong?" He was concerned but the words were forceful. You turned to him. It took you a moment to focus on his face; your eyesight wasn't right. You touched your head with one hand, the other still gripping the counter. "My head..." You got out. Ayato's eyes widened. "Shit. That diabetic thing again?" You nodded and the action was too much for you. The fingers holding onto the counter slipped and you fell straight into Ayato's arms, who had lunged at the speed only a vampire possessed to catch you.
"Fuck! This damn-" Ayato cut off, looking around the kitchen. He saw the cupboard full of the snacks to get your sugar up. His arm reached up until you weakly said, "Ayato...I feel like I'm dying" Ayato was shocked to the core for a brief second. "No, you're fucking not." He growled leaping up and opening the cupboard, then grabbing everything he could. Ayato joined you back on the floor and gently lifted your head in his lap. He slowly fed you some of your favorite jelly, not even bothering with a spoon in his hurry to make you well.
It took a while but you started to feel better. You opened your eyes to find your vision clear and focused. He looked down to you, his face concerned and his eyebrows furrowed. "You alright?" You smiled and he smiled in return, helping you get up on shaky legs. "I'm alright."
Kanato
----------
Though he hadn't understood - and originally threw a tantrum believing you just didn't like the same sweets he did - Kanato had eventually accepted that the cakes and cookies and desserts he ate weren't safe you. He actually ended up quite excited to shop with you and even tasted your desserts - and spitting them out and crying when they didn't taste how he expected.
Nevertheless, Kanato was being the loving boyfriend you were used to again. After putting you in his favorite dress and doing your hair, he kissed you sweetly and called you his prettiest doll. Today he led you to a table that was surprisingly already filled with sweets and hot chocolate. You stared at Kanato, confused. Normally he asked you to do it and you just assumed you always would. He noticed your staring and narrowed his eyes. "Stop staring at me. What, are you surprised that I'm a good boyfriend?" "Of course not! It just looks so good." Kanato smiled, satisfied. "Yes, it does, doesn't it?" He beamed and added, "Teddy helped me." hugging his beloved teddy bear.
You smiled and sat down. He sat down across from you and giggled, holding out one of your favorite pastries. You opened your mouth, but as you looked down you noticed your fingers were shaking - and pale. As if seeing your fingers accelerated how fast your blood sugar levels were dropping, you felt faint and soon - too soon - the corners of your vision were fading in and out of blackness.
You tried standing up, but your legs couldn't support your weight and you toppled over, holding your hand to your head like a maiden. Kanato cried out in surprise, rage, and concern. "Stupid! Why did you fall over?" You reached out a pallor hand to touch his vampire-pale cheek. Kanato's eyes hardened in realization and he growled. "How inconsiderate of you. Right after I set this all up!" Under his angry words, you saw the concerned tightness of his eyes.
But...this happened so fast. Normally your blood sugar dropped at a much slower rate...now it had only taken a matter of moments for you to collapse, for your vision to turn dark. There had to be something wrong. You felt beyond light-headed, you felt like you were slipping away...
"Kanato...I love you, even in death..." your voice trailed off and your eyes closed. "No, no, no!" Kanato screamed, standing up. With great effort you opened your eyes to see him stamp his foot. "Stupid, stupid! Don't say that! I won't let you leave me!" Kanato stormed back to the table and filled up your hot chocolate with sugar and creamer, so much so that the brown liquid had turned porcelain white. "Drink." Kanato commanded. When your shaking nearly knocked the cup out of Kanato's hand, he batted your hand away, tilted your head, and dripped the incredibly sweet liquid down your throat. All at once. You spluttered, but your vision cleared and you felt your blood sugar skyrocket.
He hadn't exactly done it right, but for now it was good enough a fix as any. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him. "Thank you, Kanato." "Stupid..." he muttered against your neck, and you felt his tears on your skin. "I can't lose you."
Laito
--------
Laito's nimble fingers were touching the keys, his eyes closed as he created gentle music, so experienced he need not even open his eyes to make such a beautiful sound.
It was one of his softer tunes, the music you'd hear during a lullaby. It wouldn't be the first time you've fallen asleep to the sweet sounds your lover played. You'd always wake up in his bed, safe and sound. He was so gentle when carrying you that it never woke you up.
But this time was different, instead of your head rolling forward and your eyelids drooping, your vision was turning black. It was so different than what you expected that it took you a second to realize what was actually happening. "Uhh..." you groaned in discomfort. Laito stopped playing the piano and turned to the couch you were laying on. You felt yourself slipping off and your vision went almost entirely black. Then you were back and Laito was there, gently putting you on the floor. "Laito..." Oh God, this was bad. Your head was already swimming so badly you could barely make a coherent thought.
What was this? Were you dying? "Laito. I love you...I love you..." for you it seemed like an eternity passed, but apparently it was only a few seconds. Laito had already come to the conclusion on his own and, to your surprise, or as surprised as you could be in that state, he pulled a pack of special gummies from his pocket.
"Open wide, Little Bitch." Laito said, his voice sing-songy and playful, but from his shaking hands and the slight quiver of his voice, you knew he was fearful. You managed to eat the gummies. You weren't sure how long it would took, but eventually you gained the strength to push yourself up on your arms.
Laito looked at you sadly. "I hate that you suffer from this." He pressed his forehead to yours. "But it's okay, right? You're always here." Your eyes met his and you saw the steely determination, his playful green eyes turned to hardened emeralds.
"I am. I will be."
Subaru
----------
"Oi!" Subaru called. You whirled around. "Why are ya rockin' 'round like that?" You were rocking? You looked down and your legs weren't steady. You touched your hand to your forehead. You were almost as cold as Subaru. Mortals weren't supposed to be that cold.
"Uh...". You groaned. Your head had felt foggy for a while, but that was normal for you. "I'm fine..." you muttered. "No you fucking ain't!" Subaru growled. You barely reacted to his harsh tone but you saw the regret in his red eyes immediately. "You're not...just let me have a look at ya, alright?" Subaru asked softly.
You nodded and he gently took your arm and pulled to him. "You're way too fucking pale." Subaru told you, and this time it wasn't anger that made his voice sharp. You leaned your head against his chest, first simply seeking to rest your head on something, but out of nowhere fatigue hit you hard and you crumpled against your lover.
Subaru cried out in alarm. He gripped your forearms and lifted you up. "Fuck! That damn mortal thing!" His fangs bared. He scooped you up. "Where are your fucking sweets? If Kanato ate them himself I'll fucking kill him!"
You barely registered Subaru gently putting you on a soft surface. You swayed and fell against a pillow, the sides of your vision turning completely black. You felt like you were dying. "No! No, you aren't." Subaru snarled, and you realized you had said that aloud.
Subaru gently lifted your head. "Stay with me, please." He slowly fed you something sweet and soft. He kissed the side of your head and stroked your hair. "You'll be okay. Just work with me." It took a while until your vision cleared. You groaned and he gently lowered you to lay completely on the bed. You blinked and leaned up, feeling better, but he pushed you back down and then stretched out on the bed. He gathered you close.
"I ain't losin' ya, ya hear? Not even some stupid mortal problem can take ya."
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twstowo · 10 months ago
Note
Bro you can't just make a forehead kissing post and NOT do the rest of the characters 😭🙏 /j
No but actually can you do the first years? I like to imagine all this started with a dare from one of them coughcoughACEcough and now Yuu's just going around sniping all their friends' foreheads with their lips
♡︎ You are right anon, I will redeem myself by doing all the characters.
♡︎ Includes: First Years
[Here]☆[Second years]☆[Third Years]☆[One final forehead kiss]☆[Extras]
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The quest for giving everyone a forehead kiss began when you stumbled upon Ace, deeply engrossed in his thoughts. His hair danced in the gentle breeze, adding an extra layer of charm to his profile. Unable to resist, you tried to slowly approach him without making any sound, trying your best to catch him by surprise and when you came close enough to him you interrupted his daydreaming with a tender forehead kiss.
"What was that for?" he laughed, his response oozing with self-assurance. And to be fair his smug demeanour grated on your nerves, you just gave him a forehead kiss and he reacted like that? No, way! He needed a reality check!
"If you didn't appreciate it, I'll just find Deuce and shower him with forehead kisses instead!" you told him, enjoying the surprise in Ace's widened eyes. Unwilling to back down, he rolled his eyes and stood up.
"Go ahead! Kiss the entire school's forehead! See if I care." Those words struck a chord, prompting you to turn on your heel and leave him to his own devices. You were going to make him regret saying those words.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Deuce:
As soon as you kiss his forehead, he becomes a mess. He touches the spot you just kissed, trying to form any coherent words. Just show him your forehead and tap it, as if telling him to kiss you back, he turns red but kisses you as quickly as he sees you gesture for him to kiss you, as if he always wanted to do that. His hand cups your face, tenderly caressing your cheeks without even thinking.
He daydreams about these moments for the next few weeks.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Jack:
Feeling extremely embarrassed by the unexpected gesture, he avoids eye contact and looks everywhere but your face. After a while, he musters the courage to thank you, and then you both find yourselves in a silent, awkward moment. If you linger without leaving, he eventually gathers more courage and asks if you'd like a forehead kiss in return. If you agree, he gives you a quick kiss, followed by a gentle pat on the head.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Epel:
Finds himself in an internal struggle, Epel wrestles with various thoughts. Does your gesture mean you see him as cute? Is it an affront to his masculinity? Does he need to step up his game? Swiftly, he decides to take action, pulling you by the waist and delivering a surprisingly passionate kiss. Once he's done, he turns as red as you, contemplating the consequences of his impulsive move.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Ortho:
He is so happy with your forehead kiss that he starts to delve into an explanation of the significance behind various types of kisses. He proceeds to suggest the kinds of kisses you should bestow upon his brother. At this point, he's essentially delivering a lecture on the art of kissing. Idia passes behind the two of you and overhears the conversation, for the next week you can’t find him anywhere, he is way too embarrassed to show up in front of you.
──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────
⋆⋅☆Sebek:
Grateful to the Seven for the unforgettable moment, Sebek cherishes your gesture, vowing to remember it for the rest of his life. Then he proceeds to tell you that your actions are obscene and that you shouldn't just kiss him like that out of nowhere. Throughout the week, he can't shake off the memory, and whenever he encounters you, he blushes, scowls, and quickly turns away, unable to contain his embarrassment.
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etheraltides · 1 month ago
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BITTER SWEET ᥫ᭡࿔
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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x kook!thornton!Reader
Summarize: Rafe Cameron, a rising name in the business world, desperately needs a date for the wedding of the year. With a major investment deal on the line and his image at stake, he finds himself reluctantly turning to the last person he ever expected for help: Topper’s little sister, a girl he’s bickered with since he could remember.
Warning(s): cursing, Rafe being Rafe.
A/N: English isn’t my first language and I did my best to edit it all - so if something escaped me, please, let me know. Feedback is more than welcome .ᐟ
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊ Chapter two: shopping for disaster ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊
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Rafe Cameron sat in his car outside Topper's house, the black SUV gleaming under the midday sun. He glanced at his watch for the third time in less than ten minutes, annoyance bubbling beneath the surface. Rafe had dismissed all his meetings in the afternoon and a few in the morning to make sure he'd be there in time so she wouldn't have an excuse to back away from it. He hadn't expected her to take her sweet time, but he should have known better.
Rafe should've known you weren't be civil even if you accepted it. Which, to be honest, still surprised him. He was ready to have the door slammed on his face but it seems not even you could say no to some easy money.
His phone buzzed with a text and for a moment, he thought it was saying you'd be down in five, but it was just Topper reminding him about their gym session tomorrow morning, having no idea what his best friend and sister were plotting behind his back. He sighed, shifting in his seat, the leather creaking under his movements in a way that had his annoyance growing. Why was it taking so long for you to get ready? You weren’t going for some fashion show, just to buy stuff downtown.
"Fucking bitch" Rafe muttered under his breath, hitting the horn a couple of times. He was already regretting all of this. The longer he sat there, the more the idea of bringing you as his fake girlfriend felt like a terrible decision. You'd probably jump at every chance to mess with him like you were doing now.
Just as he was about to give up and head home to, hopefully, contact a few clients, he spotted a car pulling up. He hadn't seen this one around before and by the low price, it surely wasn't your family’s. From the rearview mirror, he saw the loser push his aviators up, leaning in to kiss the girl. Rafe's stomach twisted as Topper's sister slid out, your hair tousled and a satisfied smile playing on your lips. Gross.
The sight of her closing the passenger door sent a jolt of irritation through him, mixed with something he couldn't quite identify. You looked carefree, laughing at something the guy said, and for a moment, Rafe felt like an intruder on a private scene he had no right to witness.
"Seriously?" he muttered under his breath, slamming closed the door of his truck. Were you hooking up while he was waiting in the sun?
You turned around towards the voice, your smile fading when you caught sight of him. His jaw clenched and his gaze sharp.
"Rafe?" you asked, surprise etching your features as you adjusted the strap of your bag, the casual air of confidence slipping slightly. You hadn't noticed his car when the touron parked. "You're early."
If Topper heard about this, you'd be dammed. You had told him you'd be sleeping over a friend.
"Or you're late.” he replied, crossing his arms, unable to keep the edge out of his voice. "What was that all about?"
Your brows furrowed, the glint in your eyes replaced by defensiveness. "I had... plans. Not that it's any of your business."
"Plans? Is that what you call it?" Rafe shot back, frustration bubbling to the surface as he ran a hand through his buzzcut. "You said we'd leave at noon. Did you really think it was okay to keep me waiting while you were off with some random douchebag? I fucking canceled my meetings to be here on time because you wanted to go shopping for shit!''
"As if you care, idiot." you snapped, the challenge in your voice clear. "I'm doing you a favor, remember? You have no right to question me about my plans and he wasn't a douchebag."
"Because I thought you'd have some decency!" he countered, irritation lacing his tone as he struggled to keep his voice down, walking closer to you. He points towards the car was minutes ago. "That asshole didn't even open the door for you when he dropped you off."
"Well, it was better than sit around and wait for you!" you shot back, an eyebrow raised defiantly as you wrapped your hair in a messy bun, feeling too hot from all this arguing in the sun. "It's not like you're the perfect image of being on time."
He shook his head, trying to tamp down the rising anger and something deeper that he always refused to acknowledge. "Let's just go, alright?" he muttered, opening the passenger door for you with an exaggerated sight.
You arched a brow, starring at him while he stood there with the door held open, for you. Whatever. You shook your head, clenching your jaw as you moved to the passenger seat, only to realize a second too late that you needed to change into something… well, better. The door was already slammed closed and Rafe was already on his seat.
Rafe started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. The radio was off and you had your arms crossed over your chest, looking to the window with an almost unnotiaciable pount on your lips. He didn't even give you time to shower and change. How could you go shopping in a t-shirt and jean shorts? Rude. Brute.
"Do you even have a plan for this?" you asked after a few minutes in silence, watching the front of the boutiques.
"Yeah, I figured we'd just wing it" he replied, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. Did Topper know you were hanging around with broken tourons now? If not, he'd make sure to tell him later.
"Wing it? You're kidding, right?" you laughed, but the sound had a sharp edge. A superiority that crawled under his skin. "People love to gossip at these events. If we just act like we're a couple, someone will definitely ask questions."
"Fine." he snapped, annoyance dripping in his voice as he parked the car in front of one of the many expensive stores of the island. "What do you suggest then, Mrs. Director of Fake Dates."
He hopped off the car and you rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag. You muttered a thank you as he opened the door for you, stopping in the sidewalk.
"Where did you say the wedding was again?" you furrowed your brows, not really remembering this piece of information. "Well, anyway. We need a backstory. Something believable. How about we say we've known each other since we were kids? You're my brother best friend. We had a falling out last summer and decided to give it another shot. Cliché. People eat that shit."
"Italy" He shrugged, following you as you decided which store would be first. You stopped in your tracks, looking at him with arched brows.
"Did you just say Italy as if in Europe?" you blinked, taking a deep breath as you nodded at yourself.
“How many fucking Italies do you know?” He snorted as his head turned to look at you, dumbfounded. You forced a smile, showing him the middle finger.
"Don't worry. It's just for one weekend, I told you." He held open the door of the boutique you stopped in front of, pushing you inside by the shoulder. "Let's keep the details of the story short, alright? The less people know, the better.”
“All right, Mr. Boring. Time to find me a dress that won’t embarrass you.”
Rafe followed you inside, mentally preparing himself for the impending chaos. The store was bright and stylish, filled with an array of dresses and heels. You immediately dove into the racks, pulling out pieces in vibrant colors and flowing fabrics, not sparring him a second glance.
Fuck, he could already feel his pockets hurting.
“Help me out here,” you called over your shoulder, an armful of dresses piled high. “You’ve got baby arms but let’s see if they can handle this.”
He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he picked up a few dresses. “I don’t have baby arms,” he retorted, but the smirk on his face betrayed his amusement. Baby arms, really?
“Are you serious right now?” you teased, glancing back at him with a playful challenge in your eyes. “Maybe I should get you my workout plan instead of a dress.”
He shot you a glare, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a reluctant smile before he caught himself. “Just get what you need, and I’ll carry it, but don’t expect me to play your little games.”
You grinned, the mischievous light in your eyes making his heart race. Because you were infuriating. “Oh, but you’re going to play. It’s part of the deal.”
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You’d already been through several rounds of dresses - each one met with a casual nod or a half-hearted comment from Rafe as he scrolled on his phone. A sleek black gown had caught his eye for a moment, and the deep red one had nearly made him lose his cool, but he managed to keep his reactions under control. He wasn’t about to give you the satisfaction of knowing just how much he was affected. You already were infuriating enough without him feeding your ego.
But then you stepped out in a blue dress. It wasn’t just any blue dress—it clung to you figure like it was made for you, the fabric flowing and shimmering as you walked. It hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating you curves in a way that made his breath hitch. The neckline dipped just enough to draw the eye, and the slit running from the edge of the dress to the top of you thigh was nothing short of provocative. Rafe felt his heart race, an unfamiliar heat burning in his veins.
He caught himself staring, quickly snapping his gaze back up to your face. Get it together, Cameron. She was annoying, infuriating, and the last person he should be looking at like that. Yet here he was, shifting in his seat, a strange heat building in his chest as you spun around and gave him a look that practically dared him to say something.
“What do you think?” you asked, your voice teasing but soft, as if you already knew the effect the dress was having on him.
He cleared his throat, trying desperately to summon one of his usual sarcastic remarks. “It’s… fine,” he managed, though his voice didn’t carry its usual edge.
You tilted your head, eyes gleaming with amusement as you starred at him through the mirror. “Fine? Just fine?” You pouted and turned around. You stepped closer, and he could feel the air between you grow thicker. “You’re not even looking.”
“I’m looking,” he muttered, his eyes betraying him again by glancing down at your legs before he moved it to his phone. He hated how easy it was for you to get under his skin. Every part of him was screaming to look away, to say something snarky and put you in her place, but for once, he couldn’t find the words. You looked too good. He hated it.
“No witty comeback? Wow, I’m impressed,” you teased, taking another step forward, the fabric of the dress shifting with your movement in a way that only drew his attention more.
He swallowed hard, doing his best to remember why you annoyed him so much. You’re frustrating. You’re a pain. He forced himself to think of every little thing you’d ever done to irritate him, but the sight of you in that dress made it nearly impossible.
“At least you’re as hot as you are annoying,” he finally muttered under his breath, shaking his head in a vain attempt to hide the fact that his pulse was racing.
You raised an eyebrow, clearly delighted with his response. A surprise chuckle escaped your lips. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Rafe huffed, trying to regain some composure. “Don’t get used to it,” he said, though the slight crack in his voice betrayed him.
“Too much for your business crowd?” you asked, spinning around in front of the mirror, your tone laced with amusement.
“Nah, you’ll fit right in,” he said, though his mind was screaming the opposite. Too much. Way too much. Too much for his own sake.
As you turned back to the mirror, adjusting the slit in the dress, Rafe allowed himself one more glance, feeling a mix of frustration and something else bubble up inside him. He preferred you when you were just annoying.
“I’m not carrying you out when those heels become too much,” he tossed out, trying to steer the conversation back into a safer territory.
You laughed, not missing a beat. “Don’t worry, I can handle myself. But it’s nice to know you’re concerned.”
“Concerned?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “More like I just don’t want you slowing me down.”
But as you disappeared back into the fitting room, he leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair in frustration. You were supposed to be his best friend’s little infuriating sister helping him with this. Yet with every passing second, it felt like you were becoming something else entirely. He couldn’t shake the way his gaze lingered on you, how he was beginning to dread the moment you’d step out of his line of sight. When did you turn human and stopped being a complete bitch?
Maybe it’s just been too long since Rafe got laid. Yeah, that was right. Between throwing his dad’s ashes and building a name for himself in the business world, Rafe barely had time to find some release. He’d fix it tonight.
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Rafe was already at the counter, signing off on the receipt for all the dresses you’d tried on and decided that would be used in the weekend. His jaw clenched as he tried to ignore the numbers.
“Well, that was fun,” you quipped, an exaggerated smile as you leaned next to him, telling the lady that he’d be carrying all the bags.
Rafe shot you a look, muttering, “Fun? For you, maybe.”
“Come on, Rafe,” you teased, “one of the conditions for me agreeing to this whole thing was that you pay for everything.”
He scoffed, sliding his black card back into his wallet. “Yeah, trust me, I’m well aware. Still doesn’t make it any less painful.”
“Don’t be such a baby. We’re practically made of money,” you said, glancing at the bags filled with dresses for the wedding weekend. “Besides, you should be thanking me. You’re the one getting something out of this.”
“Yeah, I’m getting a headache.”
You rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully - a bit too hard. “You’re so dramatic.”
He offered you the fakest smile you’ve ever seen before shoving half of the bags to you.
As you stepped out into the street, Rafe hesitated. Against his better judgment, he found himself saying, “You hungry?”
You blinked, clearly surprised. “Why, Rafe Cameron, are you actually offering to buy me food after spending all that cash on dresses?”
“Don’t push it,” he grumbled, starting to walk toward a small café nearby. “But since we’re supposed to be convincing everyone at this wedding, we might as well figure out the rules over lunch.”
You followed, a surprised smirk playing on your lips. “Rules? You mean besides the one where you’re my personal ATM for the weekend?”
“Yeah, that one too,” he said dryly as they found a table outside the café, placing the bags down not so gently.
You sat down, menus in hand, and for a brief moment, they both seemed content to sit in silence. Until you broke it.
“Okay, so first rule,” you glanced up from the menu. “No kissing.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Why would think I’d kiss you? I’m not desperate”
“We can hold hands, lean in, whatever. But no actual kissing,” you insisted, tone firm. “This is strictly business.”
“We can hold hands, lean in, whatever. But no actual kissing,” she insisted, her tone firm. “This is strictly business.”
“Strictly business, huh?” He smirked, shaking his head. “You say that, but you’ll be the one swooning if we get too close.”
You let out a laugh, clearly unimpressed. “Please, Cameron, if you were half as charming as you think you are, you wouldn’t need a fake girlfriend in the first place.”
“Oh, I’m charming enough. You’re just stubborn and blind.” He leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “Admit it - you’re at least a little curious what it’d be like.”
Your smile faltered just for a second before it was replaced with a disgusted face, “Curious? About you? Only to see how much more annoying you can get.”
Rafe’s gaze flickered down to your legs as you shifted in the seat, his jaw tightening as he caught himself. Annoying. Infuriating. But damn if you’re not hot, he thought, biting back a comment. His expression hardened, trying to snap himself out of it. He really needed to get laid, quickly.
You crossed your arms, leaning forward a little. “Second rule: no jealous boyfriend act. I don’t need you scaring off guys at the wedding.”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Why would I be jealous? Get over yourself.”
“Yeah, okay,” you leaned back in your chair. “Just remember, this isn’t real. No need for the possessive act.”
“I got it. Fake dating. No jealousy,” he repeated, the sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“And no trying to use this as an excuse to annoy me,” you added with a pointed look. “Topper won’t be knowing about this. Ever.”
Rafe barked out a laugh. “Annoy you? That’s practically the only fun part of this arrangement.”
“Right, because you’re soooo fun to be around,” you shot back, rolling your eyes dramatically.
“Look, just follow my lead, alright? I’ll make sure we don’t look like complete idiots in front of my business associates,” he said, picking up his menu.
“I’m not the one who looks like an idiot,” you muttered under your breath, pretending to read the menu.
He snorted, clearly hearing you, but chose not to respond. The air was filled with silence again as they waited for the waiter.
Finally, you set your menu down and locked eyes with him. “Okay, but one more thing.”
“What now?” he asked, exasperated.
“No flirting with other girls while we’re there. I’m not covering for you if you get caught in some hotel scandal.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, half amused and half annoyed. “Please. I should’ve known you were the jealous type.”
“Oh, sure,” your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Just stick to the plan, Rafe. We get in, play our parts, and get out without embarrassing ourselves. You can handle that, right?”
Rafe leaned in slightly, his smirk still in place. “I don’t know, princess. You seem pretty good at embarrassing yourself. Might be contagious.”
You glared at him but couldn’t hold back a small smile. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re still here, so what does that say about you?”
You opened you mouth to respond, ready say that it made you the kindest person in the world, but the waiter returned just in time to take your orders. As you waited for the waitress to come back with your order, you pulled your phone to scroll, had seen enough of Rafe’s face for the afternoon.
You tried to think of the best way to survive this fake dating arrangement with as little emotional damage as possible for one weekend. Maybe you’d end up killing each other first.
“Can you…” you took a deep breath, nibbling on your bottom lip while you looked around before meeting his gaze. “Not tell Topper about what you’ve seen earlier?”
“The douchebag?” Rafe arched a brow, his jaw tensing as he remembered the encounter, your hair tousled.
“He isn’t a douchebag but yeah, that.” you let out a long sigh, sipping on your juice.
“I’ll think about it. Let’s see how you will do during the wedding, huh.” He offered you one of these smug smirks that made you want to punch his face. Of course he wouldn’t make things easy for you.
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⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ TAGLIST: @megiiite @melsunshine @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @lilithblackkk
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fluffylino · 6 days ago
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Strawberry Cow ! Chan 🌸🍓🌸
he's not just any kind of hybrid...he's the first ever 'male' cow you've ever met. chan's a sweetheart, even more so when he's milked...
(i was suppozed to write this a year ago and finally here it is, enjoy lovelies <333)
reblogging > liking
part two
-contains mildly suggestive themes
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Hybrids were pretty much accepted into this world of ours. they were treated like humans, with respect (most of the time) and accepted into society quite easily.
And somehow you found yourself accidently conversing with one particular male hybrid.
he was handsome.
so incredibly beautiful, it made you question if he was even real.
two horns on either side of his head and a pair of fluffy white ears twitched beneath them. it wasn't a white that hits the eye, it was a white that looked like freshly whipped cream. with soft fur that was slightly longer than usual.
you weren't quite sure what species he was. it was difficult to make out and honestly nervewracking to ask a hybrid that kind of question.
it was almost the same as asking a human if they were a person of colour, as if they were of ethnic descent.
he could be a gazelle? maybe a buck?
but his horns weren't so sleek and thin. they were neither black in colour.
instead his thicker horns were a complete contrast to his dark hair.
a bull, maybe? or did he dye his hair?
you were about to lose your mind.
"I'm actually a cow hybrid..." he let out so quietly, with a nervous smile. Damn, he was too beautiful for his own good.
"I've never seen a cow hybrid" you mutter without much thought.
instantly regretting your statement upon seeing his awkward stance.
"no no i meant i've never seen a cow hybrid as handsome as you" waving your hands dramatically to clear the tense air.
"as...handsome as..me?" he mumbles and you were sure your heart stopped beating.
"oh god it was wrong of me to assume what you are and how you'd prefer to be addressed-"
your voice dying down as you hear him laugh.
its such a soft laugh, it goes straight to your heart. neither mocking nor a loud one. soothing to the ears.
"i'm sorry if i'm so shaky...its been a long time since anyone has ever..complimented me..."
you sighed in relief, letting a smile creep up on your face. his cheeks dusted with a light shade of pink and you knew you looked as shy as him.
The small coffee joint was beginning to crowd and it seemed that neither of y'all liked crowded spaces.
the cow hybrid slowly stood up, straightening his posture and your eyes widened.
he was well built, a good height compared to yours and his muscles were defined enough to leave an imprint on the shirt he was wearing. loosely buttoned up and hanging low on his collar. Black really was his colour...
you mentioned his build, complimenting him to the point his ears were redder than ever. shy little giggles escaping his plush lips. gosh...
his lips made you want to kiss him senseless.
"could we..uhm...be friends or uh more...i mean-" he mumbles, stuttering so sweetly.
"of course, darling. but you never quite told me your name?" you coo.
"I'm chan or...you can..call me chris"
he smiled continously as you told him your name and how you come by here often.
his ear twitching excitedly when the two of y'all share phone numbers. promising to keep in touch in the days to come.
.
🌸
.
Chan was a lot different from your first meeting. considering the fact that nearly a month or more than a month had passed.
you happened to find out how much a hybrid like him had to go through. to you, he was an ordinary cow hybrid. but chan explained how the term 'ordinary' never existed in his vocabulary.
of course you knew he was a male but what did not strike you was the fact that he shouldve been called a bull.
Instead he was classified under cow, making him a proper cow hybrid.
Taking into consideration that he was also a male, made it difficult for him to lead his life as usual. bodily changes and phenomenon occurring during certain periods made the poor hybrid's life tougher.
Cases like him were rare, not exactly non existent.
.
.
His room was unimaginably aesthetic. changing colours that faded to pink and purple, sometimes gold.
one thing you realised was his love for the colour black. laughing when he opens his cupboard. it was a black hole in there with numerous clothes lined up.
making yourself comfortable on his bed, you noticed how on-edge he was. his behaviour much different, extra shy as he sheepishly sat beside you. your backs resting against the wooden headboard.
"why'd you call me here, channie?" you asked, smiling at the way his thin sleek tail swished around.
his eyes gaze at you with such pureness, you blurt out another statement.
"I mean, i'd spend my entire day or even week with you if you wanted! but i just got a bit worried because you called me here oit of the blue, baby"
reassuring him while patting his knee lovingly.
"I..I wanted to come c-clear about myself"
you nodded, urging him to go on. he pauses, looking at you for a few seconds. theres this nervousness in his energy and you scooch closer to him.
"I lactate...almost every four days, sometimes every two days depending on tge weather..." gazing at you sweetly.
"yes, im aware channie"
"you know about-" his eyes widen, surprise in his tone.
"of course I do, did you really think I wouldn't find ways to help you after you told me how hard your day to day life is"
you joked lightly.
"if i don't...milk myself every now and then, I feel full. like heavy.."
you squeeze his hand fondly, interlocking your fingers.
"do you do it manually? or do you use some kind of device?"
from his expression and body language, you could see him grow comfortable.
"manually...pumps are quite the price"
you gasp, wondering if you pried a little too deep. chan takes it as you being weirded out but you stop him before he starts overthinking.
"no no no sweerheart, i was just surprised that you did it manually for so many years"
"i've tried a pump once or twice...but i don't like the feeling...it made me feel like an object..." he pauses, cheeks turning pink as ever before he continues.
"whenever i...uhm my chest swells and gets really sensitive..."
well that was new info to you.
"like mine?" you let out, laughing as his ears twitch and he blinks furiously.
"w-what do you mean-"
"I meant like does your chest get to like my size? i'm pretty average but does yours get bigger?"
the strawberry cow hybrid blushed.
"it depends! on m-my mood and..uhm everything"
.
🍬
.
"Chris?! what's wrong?"
worry filling your mind. the hybrid looked distressed and out of his senses. sweating profusely.
"its n-nothing, I don't feel so good" he tried to reassure although it wasn't quite reassuring to you.
his fluffy ears were lopsided and his tail swished around desperately
you cupped his face gently. his reaction waw everything. nuzzling into your palm. it was obvious. it was happening.
"channie. baby look at me"
you urged, making him focus on you. and only you.
"do you want me to help you?"
"help...help with milking me? p-please?" his tone gentle and he uttered a small plea.
"just place your hand h-here and massage slowly"
his bigger hand held onto yours as he pressed your palm flat on his chest. he was right. his chest was swell and warmer than ever.
"do you mind, baby.."
obediently he held his shirt between his teeth. gnawing on the material. you let your hand run over his toned abdomen. feeling up his tense muscles.
"y-you're so fit, channie" he grunted softly.
his milk running down your fingers slowly. with every massage, more seeped out of his pretty nubs.
unconciously you stuck your tongue out, licking up the droplets that rolled down the expanse of his chest.
"ah don't let it g-go to waste p-please please"
begging you to drink more. his hands squeezing yours. whining so sweetly as you sucked his pumped up chest. his breathing quick and shaky.
god, you wanted to corrupt him...
.
.
.
.
.
.
fuck...part 2?
should i?!
this concept to me, is so hot!!!!!
i wrote a part two-
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heartmix · 2 months ago
Text
Messed Up - Joe Burrow
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Pairing: Joe Burrow x fem!reader
Word Count: 3k+
Warning: swearing, mentions of s*x, joe's an ass in the beginning and also dumb, driving while on the phone (focus on driving!) angst but fluffy ending
A/N: cleaned out all my wip and deleted around 50 so i could motivate myself to write more. found this gem while i was cleaning
Masterlist / NFL Masterlist
He didn't mean to make you feel like shit. Really. You were the most understand person in the world especially when it came to his job. If he told you that practice was shit and that the winning drought was getting to him then you would've understood, but he just had to say,
"You're a distraction, you need to stop being all over me I can't focus on work."
That one sentence sent everything into a spiral. He regretted it the moment he said it, apologizing as soon as the last word came out but it was too late. The sad eyes mixed with the anger radiating from your body was evident.
"Hope you can focus for Tennessee." Was all you said before grabbing your phone and rushing to the guest bedroom before joe could get you from not locking the door.
Tennessee being venom on yours lips was a reminder that he had an early flight in the morning for this weekend's game. Of course he had to go and say some stupid shit knowing he wouldn't be able to see you till Monday.
His sleep was absolutely shit. He fell asleep outside the guest bedroom hoping in the middle of the night you'd crawl back in bed or open the door and take pity on him, but you didn't. You slept the whole morning. Even when he had to leave. He screwed up. The texts and voice memos he sent you piled in like a train that morning. In every way he could say sorry he wrote and said. He even made sure flowers and breakfast was on your doorstep before he boarded the plane.
You weren't completely heartless, you knew he regretted what he said, but that didn't change the fact that he said it and looked like in that moment he meant it. Not wanting him to have an even more terrible practice and even worst game you caved into the texts, sending a picture of the flowers with a
'Thank you, it's beautiful. Have fun in Tennessee'
Joe felt a wave of relief seeing your text come in. He knew it wouldn't make up for everything, but at least you weren't ignoring him. He was going to take as much as he could get until he saw you on Monday.
Over the next two days the texts were dry on your end. Just simple replies to his texts and pictures here and there of your day (when he asked). Those two days he was thinking of ways to make it up to you. All of his troubles washed away seeing your Instagram stories before the game. No matter how mad you were you still supported him (even if that wasn't your team).
Bengals got a win off the titans, a close game that was decided by a last second field goal. He was grateful for the strong wind and his kickers experience with wind over Tennessees'. He played a hell of a game, scoring 2 passing touchdowns. Seeing your celebratory stories made him feel even better. He thought everything was going to be okay once he got home.
Sure you loved supporting him every chance you got, but that wasn't the entire reason you posted about the bengals win. It would be suspicious if you didn't. Texts from friends who knew you all to well would roll in with
'you and Joe okay?'
'Joe piss you off?'
'Tired of the bengals?'
You didn't want that. You couldn't handle that right now. You got your anger out of the way and all that was left was irritation. Irritation with what Joe had the audacity to say that to you and Irritation that he couldn't just tell you he wasn't in the mood. He made you feel like a slut and that was the last thing you wanted to feel in a relationship with one of the biggest quarterbacks of this generation.
Monday morning rolled around and Joe couldn't be happier to be home. He couldn't wait to tell you all about the win and hear your praises. He loved hearing your insight after game day, especially over a game he knew he played great in.
When he walked in the house he expected the usual greeting and excitement from you. But it was silent. You didn't work today and even if you did you worked from home most days so you'd take a short break to great him. The whole house was quiet, not even music blasting from the speakers. The more he traveled in the house he finally found you in the walk in closest with your earphones in. You knew he was home evident to the notifications your got from the doorbell camera, you just didn't care to meet him at the door to greet him.
"Hey mamas." You felt his hands snake around your waist as he buried his head in your neck.
"Hey. Great game. The plane ride okay?" You asked pausing the current song so you can show some decadency in paying attention to him as much as you didn't want to.
"Yeah. The win made it easier to fall asleep for a bit." He mumbled in your neck. The reminder that he won hit you right in the chest. Maybe he did win because you weren't a distraction this weekend.
"I bet, at least you got some rest."
"Yeah but now I'm home and I couldn't be happier to be here." All you did was hum at his response as you continued to sort your clothes.
"What are you doing?" He noticed you were making an overnight back.
"Staying at Milla's tonight. She wanted a girls night with just us after we were with the girls all yesterday."
"Oh." Was all he could get out. He was confused. Obviously you could make plans whenever you wanted it's just you rarely made plans when he came back from a road game. You dedicated that day to him and him only. He loved those days even after a win, even in a lost you'd spend it in bed watching film and helping him analyze the games.
"Don't forget to put your laundry in the basket." You turned to him patting his cheek before grabbing your bag getting ready to head out.
"Wait! Whats the matter?" He chased you out of the closet with a confused look on his face.
"Nothing? I going to the store to grab dinner so I can cook at Milla's. She's in the mood for my cooking."
"Okay. So I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" His signature pout made its way onto his face. Normally you couldn't resist it, but today you really didn't care what face he was making.
"Mhmm."
"Bye i love you, text me when you get there." He came up to you planting a kiss to your lips deeply with you barely reciprocating it back.
"Will do." You gave a fake smile to him before leaving the house.
You didn't come home the next day. In fact you stayed one more day at Milla's with the reason being that Milla tired you out at the mall and you didn't feel like packing up everything from the tiredness. When you came back Wednesday morning Joe just got back from his morning work out but could tell you were in a rush.
"Hey! Woah in a rush?"
"Heading into work today. Got a new project." You replied swiftly has he watched you get undressed and dressed in front of him. Every ounce in his body wanted to take you in front of the mirror, but with the look on your face and your pacing he knew you were in a hurry.
"Oh okay. I was thinking dinner tonight with Sam, Ja'marr and Tee? Said they missed your cooking."
"Yeah sure. I'll text you when I leave the office." You smiled grabbing your work bag off the bed and rushing out the door before Joe could even pull you in for a goodbye kiss.
The only thing joe could think about all day was you. He couldnt wait till you got home and have you to himself, even though he needed to wait a few for you to play host. The text came in 2 hours after the boys arrived and they were well into a game of 2k. Screaming and jabs made them forget about the food that was promised.
'Hey sorry on short notice staying late tonight. New project is big. Tell the boys I'm sorry and that I'll cook for them next week. Don't wait up for me.'
'It's okay mamas, don't work yourself to hard. I love you'
All he revived was a heart reaction and no follow up text. He found that strange, but put it off as you were focusing on your work. He understood that. Quickly ordering some takeout the boys didn't mind hearing that next week they were for sure getting your cooking.
Joe didn't even know when you got home last night. Having the boys over drained him so he went to sleep earlier then he thought, he tried to stay up to wait fr you but failed. So to his surprise you weren't even in bed when he woke up. You weren't in the bathroom either. When he made his way downstairs he saw you already dressed for the day washing your finished coffee cup and making a new batch to go.
"Hey I didn't hear you get in last night."
"Yeah I crashed on the couch. To tired to go upstairs." Which had some truth to it. He knew you loved the couch so it wasn't strange you slept downstairs.
"Already heading out?" He asked coming up behind you circling his arms around your waist burying his head into the crook of your neck.
"Just for a few hours. Want to understand the project to I can bring it home for a few days."
"Mhmm, sounds good I missed you home." He mumbled still being comfortable in the crook of your neck.
"You need to get ready for practice and I need to run." You gave him a tight lip smile before rushing out with your coffee and bag in hand. No goodbye kiss, not even a goodbye in general.
He knew something was up, but couldn't figure out what. This whole week since he got back you were short with him. He wasn't even sure he saw you for an hour combined this whole week. The three men who were over that night could tell Joe was deep in his thoughts.
"What's got you all depressed?" Expressed Ja'marr as they were taking a break on the bench. 
"My girl. I haven't even seen her for an hour combined the whole week."
"Woah what did you do to piss her off." Next was Sam who spoke what everyone was thinking.
"Nothing I think? When I got back home she was running off with Milla for a sleepover and that turned into 2 days. When she came back the next morning she was rushing to get to work and stayed overtime which is why she didn't have dinner with us and this morning she was up and out when I woke up. I got two sentences out of her before she rushed out. No goodbye or even a kiss goodbye."
"Oh my guy you messed up big time." Tee said chuckling at the mans stupidity. He didn't know exactly what his teammate did, but knew it was his fault.
"I don't even know what I did! She wasn't like this before the week-" he stopped in his tracks now realizing what could be the cause.
"What did you do?" Ja'marr said knowing that face Joe made all too well.
"Before we flew out, the night before I told her that she was a distraction to me and that I couldn't focus on work with her being all over me." The QB hung his head wanting to knock himself out.
"You gotta be kidding me man."
"You blamed her for your shitty work performance?"
"Oh my god. I didn't even notice. I didn't think she was mad anymore after she was posting about the game on Sunday." Joe was now frantic. How could he have not know sooner.  
"Dude she posts every game it would be weird if she didn't." Tee said the obvious thing that Joe didn't seem to notice that it would be weird to everyone else if you didn't post.
"I would even question why she didn't post." Sam shrugged being the dude less on the internet out of the four. 
"Holy shit I'm a terrible boyfriend."
"Yeah you fucking are." Tee got out a little too fast.
"Wow thanks guys."
"It's your fault I didn't get her cooking last night? Unbelievable." Ja'marr exclaimed making Joe roll his eyes. Of course that was all he focused on.
"So how are you going to make this up?" Sam spoke seeing his friend stressing out.
"I don't know. But I need to do something before she comes home."
As soon as practice ended he rushed home having no time to waste. On the drive home he managed to order food from your favorite restaurant, have flowers delivered to home and a bag you've been eyeing for months. He was going to wait till Christmas to get the bag, but what better time than right now. As dangerous as it would be to be on his phone while driving he checked your location every minute to make sure he would make it home before you. Just as he reached home it was when you left your work place. He hoped you'd come straight home and not make any detours. 
He worked fast, putting the flowers front and center on the kitchen counter, unpacked the food and put it on plates and finally placed the Dior package next to the flowers. Smiling at the little set up he looked at this phone seeing he had time to get dressed up. Sure you didn't mind the sweatpants and a bengals shirt but he didn't feel like it was the most "i'm sorry" fit. 
Walking through the door you let out a sigh. As much as you wanted to avoid Joe more you couldn't help but admit you missed sleeping in your own bed especially with him in it. Maybe you should let up on your semi silent treatment. Your thoughts were paused when you heard your playlist coming through from the kitchen. Peaking your interest. Turning the corner you found Joe standing all dressed up with a goofy smile on his face.
"What is this?" You inquired placing your work bag on one of the free counters.
"A sorry, a i messed up and i didn't realize it till now."
"Joe-" you started before he cut you off.
"I missed the welcome homes, i love you's and the way call me by a nickname instead of Joe. I was stupid. i thought everything was okay with what I said to you last week but it wasn't. Trust me when i say i didn't mean it. This is no excuse, but it was an in the moment thing. I know my performance was shitty these last few weeks and that my day was bad and that was no excuse to take it out on you when you were only trying to make me feel better. I also know that i should've just came to you. The most understanding girl i know, especially when it comes to my job. I don't know what else to say besides i'm sorry." he got out all in one breathe which shocked you. He wants one for a grand speech, but he was pretty good at it.
"It took you almost a week to realize something was wrong with me." you still didn't want to let down your guard, you were going to milk him for everything he had to say.
"I know, I mean i knew you weren't alright since i left, but i guess i let the praise you gave me online clouded everything. Sorry it took me so long to realize."
"You know you made me feel like a slut. like all i wanted from the new hottest quarterback was sex. normally you like to take your mind off of work when it affects you that much but i was wrong and i'm sorry for that."
"Don't apologize. i never meant to make you feel that way, you are not a slut. you've been there for me since my first year at LSU. how could i make you feel any less." He said pulling you into an embrace which was much needed for the both of you.
"Do you forgive me?" He mumbled in your hair making you giggle at how whiny he sounded. 
"I do, and i missed you."
"I missed you more then you could ever know, this past week was worst than my losing streak."
"I doubt that but ill take it. now whats all of this?" You pulled away looking at the little fixture on the kitchen island."
"food from the place you like and a little gift."
"A little? It's a Dior package."
"Open it." he begged you.
Reaching over to the bag you didn't know what was going to be in it, Joe's love language was for sure gift giving so it was always a surprise. When you opened the box you gasped at the bag you've been eyeing out for months. You didn't even tell Joe about your interest in the bag. When you looked back up at Joe he had the signature smirk on his face. 
"How did you know?"
"I pay attention believe it or not."
"You didn't have to." You pouted up at him for the sweet gesture. No matter how many gifts he would shower you with it still caught you by surprise everytime.
"I wanted to. I was going to get you it for christmas, but i have enough gifts to spare." he said as a smirk creeped up on his face.
"You're unbelievable." You laughed pulled him down by the jacket he was wearing to plant a deep kiss. He couldn't help but bring you closer. Right when he was going to lift you up on the counter you pulled away.
"Food is going to get cold." You reminded with a smirk of your own making his drop.
"I haven't touched you in so long." he growled out making you laugh.
"Could've had sex the night before your flight and sex this whole week but thats on you." You said patting his chest as you made your way to sit on the barstool.
"Oh you're never going to let that go."
'am i getting my dinner next week?'
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