#ily always puts a smile on my face

[astrasng]

SCRATCH || BANGCHAN

MINORS DNI!

pairing: idol!chan x female!reader

summary: thanks to chan's solo stage you finally made him yours.

warnings: blood (from scratches obv), handjob, spanking, petnames (baby, honey, angel, sweetheart) unprotected sex, cursing

author's note: from my previous breakdown post bc of chan got me in an inspired mood so i made a little somethin somethin. still what the fuck was he thinking. also, if you're a regular reader by any chance (ily) you might have noticed i write jealousy tropes, IDKK WHY THO SORRY

important!: this is pure fiction, the act in this story is by my imagination and not based off true events. please do not copy the work.

enjoy!

It isn’t like you’re not supportive of your boyfriend. You’ve always been there for every idea, even if you thought that it wasn’t the best one. The things you have to deal with him being an idol settled deep into your mind, already accepting the consequences that may come in the way. But it’s not like you would ever give up your relationship with Chan just because he’s doing risky things that you may not like. 

To be honest, it kind of became an advantage for you. 

You would watch him having fun on stage with the other members, sometimes splashing water at each other, making everyone in the crowd either cheer or laugh at their silly behavior. There were times when they got sentimental, wishing all the happiness for STAY and the members for the future. It made you emotional just in the same way as you would watch them through the TV in your shared apartment. 

And then there were times where you couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together and wait for him.

“Had fun today?” 

The sarcastic tone caught Chan’s attention as he’s doing his everyday night routine, just as he’s finishing up his shaving session. He knows exactly why you’re talking and reacting to him this way, you’ve been all fidgety with him since he got home from the first day of the tour, and when he stepped inside the apartment he saw you still sitting on the couch, not welcoming him in with the usual hug he gets. 

Chan looks a little bit to the side so he can get a reflection of you changing in the room, the towel you used laying on the ground after taking a shower. Without him. 

“Of course.It’s always heartwarming to meet with STAY’s. And the kids were so hyped about getting solo stages too.”

Now that just boils your blood. 

“Oh, were they?” You keep your back facing him,not letting him see how frustrated you really are about the game he’s playing. “They were doing an amazing job indeed.” You shut your eyes momentarily before putting on your velvet nightgown, and slowly walking towards the bathroom where your boyfriend is staying. 

“Yeah, I assume you saw mine too, right? Did you see the special makeup they did on me?” With pride he chuckles while putting away his shaving equipment, patting his dry as he picks up his toothbrush. His question should have a very easy and simple answer, yet here you are ready to give him a brainwash about not caring about your mental health. Cause what the hell was that? You can’t even form the offensive words you want to say to him out of frustration, you could never say anything negative about his performances in general — but the way he’s talking about it, so full of himself, you can’t help yourself. “I wonder who made all that.” It slips out, biting down on your lip softly to stop yourself from further embarrassment. 

“It must’ve been the makeup artist of course, but I could’ve done a better job if you ask me.” You step into the bathroom just as you finish your sentence, Chan unable to answer due to his mouth full with mint scented bubbles. 

As you want to pass behind him, you swipe your delicate fingers on his defined back muscles, the photos of him painted in scratches for the performance fills your vision. 

“Makeup was unnecessary,to be honest.” 

There’s something glinting in Chan’s eyes as a lopsided smile appears on his face, looking at you through the mirror placed above the bathroom counter. As the words leave your lips, he licks his plump lips slowly, putting away his toothbrush he just used. “If I had asked you, would you do it?” 

The air stops suddenly in your throat,taking your eyes off of him as you busy yourself with something else infront of you. “Well…it doesn’t matter now.” 

“Oh it does, honey.” Chan says lowly, his voice suddenly closer as you want it to, and you know perfectly he’s only a step away from you. “If I only knew my baby just wanted to help me out in my solo,” He snakes his arms around your waist slowly, his bare chest pressing into your clothed back as he’s standing behind you, whispering in your ear. “I could’ve used some help.” With that, he pressed a slow open mouth kiss on the side of your neck. his hands caressing the skin on your stomach. 

“Should we recreate it and show it to my makeup artist?”

Chan whispers against your ear, biting down slightly on your earlobe as he makes eye contact with you through the mirror. You look already disheveled just from his touch, your nightgown scrunched slightly up as he kneads your stomach, one of his hands slowly inching up to your breasts. “Would you like that, baby?” 

“I didn’t mean it like that, Chan – mhphm…” A small moan leaves your lips as he pinches your nipple in his slender fingers, continuing to make out with your neck as you try and compose yourself. 

“How did you mean it then?” He grunts out as you push your backside on his crotch, his cock twitching already in his sleeping pants at the thought of you being jealous. “Tell me.” 

“I–I just…” You try to form words, keeping yourself together and not yet falling for his words but then Chan sneakily slides his other down towards your waiting heat, his finger immediately meeting with slickness between your pussy lips. He groans again, grinding into your ass to ease the pain from being so hard. “Baby, if you want to scratch my back that badly just say it.” There’s something hiding behind his words which makes you shut your eyes from the pleasure he’s causing, your hands flying on the counter for support. “I kind of…wanted to..” Your breath hitches, cutting off your sentence when Chan flips your nightgown upwards to expose your wet pussy, your naked ass on display in front of him as he takes his hand away from your breast and caresses one of your cheeks. “You wanted what? Do you need some help darling?” He grunts under his breath when he feels you clench around his fingers, plugging it in and out to take your breath away. You moan out when you feel his fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your back arch. 

But Chan doesn’t give in that easily. 

You suddenly feel a stinging pain on one of your cheeks, moaning out shamelessly from the sensation he just caused with his hand. When you pick your head up you see Chan already looking at you through the mirror, lust filled eyes raking over your already fucked out face. “Say it baby.” 

You can feel his hand smoothing over the place he just spanked, the air in the bathroom so humid you can feel yourself getting sweaty again. His finger never stopped working inside you, with that spank almost knocking you over the edge. 

When Chan doesn’t see you changing your mind and finally answer him, he only clicks his tongue and tilts his head to the side. Without a second thought, he slaps your ass again, his finger circling around your clit rapidly when he hears your pornographic moans echoing in the bathroom.

“I–I wanted to mark you!” 

And there it is. 

As you practically moan out the words, Chan’s finger is coated thickly with your cum as his words made you tip over the edge. Your whole body shaking in his arms as you come down your high slowly, trying to gather your thoughts and realizing what you just said.

When the words finally leave your mouth he can’t help but smirk, the possessive side of you finally showing for the first time in your relationship. “And why is that honey?” Chan teases you, seeing your ears red from the sudden confession you just made. 

“Just so everyone knows that you’re mine..” You mumble quietly, shame overcoming you as it paints your cheeks deep red. 

Something snaps inside Chan. He can’t help but groan out, his cock painfully hard against his pants as he turns you around and places his hands on your throat, slightly adding pressure on it. Before you know it, you’re pressed up against the wall, his lips already chasing yours. 

“Do it baby.” He kisses you, his tongue sneaks through his lips to taste your lip balm you applied earlier he loves so much. “I want you to do your worst on me,” He whispers between kisses, his hand suddenly picking you up to put your legs around his waist. Your whole body welcomes him, your mouth opens as he slides his tongue inside once again, and your fingers landing into his freshly washed hair as he devours your lips. His hand scrunches up your gown once again before he presses his hardness into your slick core. 

At the contact you moan out loudly, already wanting him inside you, to ease your pain that he caused. 

“Feel that baby? It’s all yours. Nobody else has that but you.” 

With a whine you throw your head on the wall, Chan’s lips continuing to leaves red splotches on your sensitive skin as he takes his hand and pushes down his boxers, hissing out the minute the air hits his precum covered cock, tip red from all the waiting and veins bulging with excitement. 

He drags his wet tip over your puffy lips, spreading them open more to make room for himself when he circles around your clit. As he slides his length between your folds, you feel all emotions gather up inside you, the feeling too hazy as your vision becomes blurry from the need. “Channie,,please..” 

“‘s okay baby,I’ll give it to you.” He chants when he finally pushes his tip inside you, groaning out from you uncontrollably clenching around his cock when he nearly settles halfway in. “You have to relax,angel. You make it impossible for me to–”

“Chan — I’m so sorry, I–” He hears you gasp out, your body all tensed up, your eyes wide open as you look into the mirror across you. He looks swiftly behind him to see your naked bodies melted into one, and then it catches his eye. 

With one thrust he settles fully inside you, moaning from how incredibly tight you are around his length, keeping himself back to not buckle into you rapidly. He puts his hand on your chin, making you look into his eyes and not on his blood covered back. “I asked you to do this, right?” With a softened gaze, he makes sure you understand what he’s saying, not taking his eyes off of you until he sees your lust filled expression again instead of worry ones. “Right baby?”

“Y-yes..” You gulp when you see your fingers slightly covered in red around his neck. “But I didn’t want to-”

“It’s fucking hot.” He hisses, his voice whinier than usual as he puts his forehead on your chest, his hips starting to move. “You did such a great job sweetheart.” He pulls completely out before thrusting into you again, this time harsher as he hears your cries next to his ears. 

When you take another look in the mirror, you see what you just caused. The moment you felt his cock hitting you so deeply you couldn't help but deepen your nails into his skin on his broad back, now covered with blood here and there. It softly dribbles down his defined muscles, and Chan is right. It is fucking hot. 

So you clench around him again when you feel his fingers circling around your clit, his cock hitting the perfect spot as he moans out your name. “Do it again.” He demands, his hand flying on the wall next to your head to thrust up harder into you, making you roll your eyes. As you see Chan so deeply in emotions you scratch his back again, now only deep redness showing on his pale skin. 

The pain on his skin makes him inch closer to his release. The jerks of his hips, slamming against your hips are quickening, becoming more erratic, intense and desperate. You cry out his name nonstop, feeling him twitching inside you. 

“Give it to me.” He’s breathless as he chants into the side of your neck. “I need you to come around my cock baby.” 

His demand tips you over the edge again, moaning out his name as you feel him curl against you, his shoulders on display for you to see what you painted on his back. His grunts are vibrating through your body, the pain melting into pleasure as he paints your insides with his thick cum, feeling so full of him, feeling him everywhere. Chan bites down softly on your skin,kissing the pain away quickly as you both come down from this high. 

You are his. He made sure a long time ago, but now, you made sure he was yours too as you watch the crimson red blood slowly sliding down his back, gathering it on your fingers.

“It took a solo stage for you to claim me as yours?” Chan asks when he softly puts you down on the bathroom counter, a bright smile painting his face once again.

like and reblog is much appreciated! ♡

divider by:@enchanthings

[yuujispinkhair]

Had this silly little thirsty thing in my head for weeks and I have enough courage to say it skdh

Letting Yuji thighfuck you as his reward

Making Sukuna thighfuck you as his punishment

Idk- I feel like Yuji would love it.. cause he's so sweet and thinks you're cute all over *kicking my feet*

And- now idk how you'd make Kuna submit like that- although, that subby college kuna is on the mind yk hehe

anyway- that is all, ily and I'm loving the Hockey AU so far mwah 💗💕

AAAH RISA I LOVE THIS 🥵🥵 Thank you so much for sharing this with me!! 💗

Yuuji x Reader, Sukuna x Reader. 700 words. 18+. Smut. Thighfucking (Reader is sitting on a kitchen counter with her legs crossed). Praise kink, cum-eating in Yuuji's case. Degradation kink, overstimulation, squirting/piss in Sukuna's case. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

Yuuji is happy about anything you give him. He is so in love with you and your body it drives him crazy to push his leaking cock between your beautiful thighs. He walked into the kitchen, seeing you sitting on the counter in that short skirt, and he was instantly rock-hard. He laughed sheepishly and apologized for his dick, but you smiled at him and put a hand on the large tent in his grey sweatpants.

"It's ok Yuuji. I like how much you want me. Come here, baby."

The moment Yuuji realized what you had in mind, he was already pushing his sweats down eagerly, lips opening in a loud moan. It felt dirty, and that excited him.

Yuuji is always a nasty one. Cute but nasty and very horny. So he is all too happy and grateful that you let him rub his horny cock against your soft skin. It looks so hot how his swollen, wet mushroom head peeks out between your plush thighs, drooling pre-cum all over himself and smearing it between your sexy thighs when he fucks them. Things become more slippery with each horny thrust, and it makes Yuuji moan shamelessly.

You tell him to look at you, and when he does, you pet his hair and coo at him,

"You are so sweet, Yuuji. Such a good boy. I love you so much, baby."

And Yuuji nuts so hard 💗 His large hands dig into your thighs, his moans all high-pitched and cute, while his pretty cock throbs and shoots Yuuji's thick warm cum down your thighs.

You don't even have to tell him afterward that he should lick you clean. That sweet boy is already on his knees, caressing your calves with his large warm hands while he eagerly licks his cum off your thighs while moaning against your skin how much he loves you.

Sukuna (I also imagine fucktoy Sukuna from "Bad Boy - Good Toy" here) grits his teeth to hold back his moans and glares angrily at you while he ruts desperately against you. Angry at himself for being such a needy mess for you, who needs to touch you so bad that he is even ok with this!

He thought you would let him fuck you tonight, but you just grinned at him and laughed mockingly, telling him that bad boys don't deserve your pussy. "Next time, you better behave nicer throughout the day. You are such a brat, Kuna. I really have to put you in your place."

He hates how fucking hard he got when you talked to him like that and when you sat on the kitchen counter and pointed to your legs with that cruel smile on your pretty face.

"If you are so needy, you can put your pretty dick here, baby."

He hates that he didn't even hesitate but pulled his cock out immediately, slapped it against your thigh, and then pushed it between your crossed legs with an angry and horny hiss falling from his lips.

And now Sukuna is standing here in the kitchen with his jeans and boxer briefs pooling around his ankles, fucking your thighs like some dog in heat. Fast and desperate. Groaning anytime his throbbing cock glides through the tight warm gap between your thighs.

He feels his head spin as you milk drop after drop of pre-cum out of his aching cock, while taunting him about how excited he is. But fuck, it feels good, and the way you smile at him makes him feel so strange.

"Aww look at you, Kuna. You are so pathetic. You gonna hump yourself against me until you make a mess all over me? So cute. My little horny slut."

It's too much. Sukuna growls a needy-sounding "Shut up, brat!" even as he feels his muscles contract, unable to hold back the intense orgasm that makes his whole muscular body shake as he cums all over your legs and the kitchen floor like some little excited loser, shooting his milky seed everywhere.

You don't let him go, only press your thighs together tighter and squeeze his orgasming cock, forcing Sukuna to give you every last drop of cum he has in him. He is whining by the end, so over-stimulated that tears gather in his eyes, and he even squirts a little, hearing you laugh when the sticky mix of his warm piss and cum trickle out of his angry, swollen cockhead.

😵😵💗💗

Both of them drive me INSANE!! Yuuji is such a cutie, and I want to praise him all day!! And Kuna is my favorite little brat who brings out my sadistic side. I am so in love with both of them!!

Thank you so much for sending me this sexy idea!! 💗

I hope you enjoyed your little fun time with our boys ;) Who is your fave?

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet 💗

And if anyone wants to read more about this subby version of Sukuna, you can find two sexy stories about fucktoy Sukuna here: Bad Boy - Good Toy

[parfaitblogs]

risk ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you have the sweetest regular, and it’s probably too soon to tell him you love him!

pairing: spencer reid x barista!reader genre: fluff tags: s1 spencer. who rambles. biblically accurate career!reader sorry if some of the coffee talk makes no sense to you. reader makes all the first moves. y'all kiss (aww). written in timeskip sorta it's not crazy (like maybe a month). not proofread sorryyy (im not). word count: 2.2k a/n: first instalment of my spencer reid eras tour🙂‍↕️ season 1 spencer reid i freaking adore you. he's so cute. gif!! i thought gifs in this series could be cute lol. envisioned 1x10 spencer bc of his nightmares if that means anything. enjoyyy ily im off to work 🏃 

series masterlist

There are many reasons you come to work each morning. The money (an obvious one), your coworkers who usually make each day a little bit more bearable. And Spencer. A regular who had become a little notorious for having an odd coffee order, that most of the store workers hated making. 

Except for you. 

It wasn't especially odd. But in a store that thrived on making the perfect cup of coffee, sometimes it meant remaking it three or four times because the shots didn't pour at the right amount of time, and recalibrating the machine was a hassle you all didn't want to deal with in the middle of the morning rush he usually came during. 

You had taken note of him the first few times he came in — always keeping to himself, flashing the most awkward smile you think you've ever seen on a human being, and ordering his old order (a large latte with as much sugar as you could fit in the cup). It was by the seventh time that had you thinking of him a little more often than just while you were at work. 

He looked a lot more exhausted than usual. His usually tame hair now loose and hanging over his face as he took a weary step towards the counter, fingers brushing strands away and tucking them behind his ears. 

"The latte, right?" you had asked him, and he had frozen, and you stood in fear of this not being the Spencer you thought he was, and you had just asked a total stranger about a coffee they've never ordered. 

But then he let out a nervous laugh, shaking his head. "Uh, no. Not today. Um—do you guys have a limit on how much coffee I can have?"

Your eyebrows furrowed. "No... we don't. I wouldn't recommend any more than like five shots in our largest size, though. It'd probably taste gross. But we can add as much as you need."

"Five's good. Yeah," he nodded his head, fingers wrapped tightly around the leather strap of his messenger bag. 

"Just... a five shot latte?" you clarified, and he froze again, shaking his head once more. 

"Do you recommend anything else? I—uh, I want it to be sweet enough still."

"I can do you a mocha?" you offered. "White chocolate mocha if you're looking for it to be even sweeter."

"I'll try that," he nodded his head, and out came his awkward smile, which had you smiling back just as awkwardly. 

Which was how he got to his current usual. It honestly became a test to ensure your coffee machines were actually running well, considering pulling five well-done espresso shots at once was no easy feat. And, again, most of your coworkers hated making his drink. 

Which was why it was palmed off to you. Every single morning without fail. And maybe in another universe you would join them in the hatred for this man's frustrating drink order. But then, in that universe, you wouldn't get to talk to him every morning (and slowly break him out of whatever shell he had locked himself up in). 

"I never asked," you began, staring at him over the top of the coffee machine while putting white chocolate fudge into the bottom of the cup. "Why did you change your order randomly?"

He parted his lips and his eyebrows creased together for a few seconds, as if he was deciding whether or not to tell you. You were kind of grateful he concluded on trusting you. 

"I wasn't really sleeping. When I asked about changing my order," he explained, hands letting go of the bag strap so he could talk with them. "Then I guess I just liked the taste of it? And it kept me awake. Which is a bonus."

"I can imagine it would," you nodded your head in agreement, flashing him a small smile, which he returned, bashfully. "Why weren't you sleeping?"

He went silent, and you almost cursed yourself for asking. Maybe you had gone too far. It was why, when you had begun to busy yourself with making his drink a little faster, you jumped when he spoke up again.

"I was getting these nightmares," he said, and your head lifted from the milk you were steaming. "Because of what I do for work."

"Law, right?" you asked, and he let out a small laugh, tucking hair behind his ear. 

"Sort of. I'm with the FBI."

"Oh, that's right," you replied, nodding your head in recognition. He had said that to you at some point in the earlier days when he first started coming in, because you had asked where he works so close by to be coming in as often as he did. "Can you tell me what part? Or is that confidential?"

"No, no, I can. I'm with the Behavioural Analysis Unit," when your face twisted into confusion, he added, "We use psychology to analyse serial killers and catch them. Well, not just serial killers, actually. But that's what we focus on."

"And it works?" you asked, eyebrows rising as you placed a lid atop his coffee, sliding it out on the pick-up section where he was standing by. His face fell slightly, and so you were quick to add, "Not—I didn't mean it like that. I just mean I'm shocked. That psychology is all you really need to catch a serial killer."

"It's not all we need. There's a lot of other elements that go into finding one. But our primary focus is how their brain works and we use behavioural science to figure that out. Actually, we used to be called the Behavioural Science Unit when it was first created."

He was too busy talking animatedly with his hands for him to have picked up his coffee, and you were too busy watching him with a smile to remind him it was ready. 

When he did reach for it, you could feel the familiar pang of disappointment that had started shooting through you every time he was picking up his coffee and leaving. A weird sensation that left you clawing at the walls of your brain to come up with something to say to keep him there. 

It was probably why you blurted out, "Are you seeing anyone?" Which was followed by stunned silence from him, and regretful silence from yourself. What a question. 

Slowly, he began to shake his head, his lips twitching into a confused frown. "No. I'm—I'm not." 

It shocked you a little. He wasn't jaw dropping, per se. But he was attractive. You had said it a few times to your coworkers whenever they asked why you talked to him so much — there was a running joke that you were already secretly dating him behind their backs. Not funny.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to..." you hesitated. "Go out for dinner? Maybe? I'm so sorry if I'm totally overstepping. In fact, I encourage you to say no, because this is a little weird. I'm so sorry," you rambled when you were met with only silence from him, wondering if you had weirded him out of the ability to talk. 

"With me?" he pushed out, his voice a little higher pitched than usual, and you nodded your head, because maybe he wasn't weirded out. Maybe you had just flustered him. You hoped so, at least.

"Yeah," you said. "Is that weird? Or is it okay? To ask that?"

"It's okay. Yeah. Yes. I would love—like to. I mean, that would be nice. Yeah," he stammered, and you smiled. 

"Here," you held your hand out and gestured for his coffee, taking it back and picking up a Sharpie to write your number atop the lid, before you slid it back to him. "I get off work at one. Call me?"

"I will," he nodded, eyes fixated on the number for a few seconds more, before he returned his eyes to you. "I will. Um—bye!" he took a step back, and you let out a loud laugh when he stumbled into a chair behind him. 

He was sheepish as he waved to you, bidding you another goodbye, the sound of the bell above the door ringing once, and then again when it fell shut. 

And you had, somehow, secured a date with Spencer.

Which turned into two dates. Then three. And then, with some weird stroke of luck and twist of fate, you were spending every evening you could at his apartment, and him at yours. 

But you were yet to kiss. 

Not by any particular reason. Really, nothing either of you did ever really called for a kiss. Which was as frustrating as it was understandable. Frustrating, because you felt like you were simply friends, who sometimes went out for dinner, and had feelings for each other. But he had told you very early on he'd never been with anyone before, let alone ever been on a date. Hence; understandable. 

But frustration was more overwhelming than you had thought, because you were on his couch, blanket draped over both of your bodies, as he read you a book — The Chameleon. A short story by Anton Chekhov (an author whom you were only barely familiar with). And yet, all you could think about was kissing him. 

In your defence, he was very kissable, as you stared at his lips while he spoke, your heart stuttering quite uncomfortably in your chest. You weren't sure what it was precisely about him that made him like that. Maybe it was the natural pout of his lips, or how they twitched in humour at the little jokes Chekhov had written into the book that only made sense in Russian, despite him attempting to translate it for you. 

Whatever it was, it was overriding your senses, and in true Spencer fashion, he hadn't noticed you weren't intently listening to his reading until he glanced down to catch a reaction to something he said. You caught as he closed the book and placed it off to the side, jostling you from your haze. 

"You don't like the book, do you?" he asked, and you were quick to shake your head. 

"No, I do," which was true. The parts you were actively listening to you enjoyed. "Sorry, I'm distracted."

"By what?" he shifted on the couch to face you.

You fell silent at that, the answer hanging on the tip of your tongue, unsure whether or not saying it could ruin things. You didn't think it would. "You."

"I'm distracting?" he asked, eyebrows creasing together and a confused frown pulling his lips down. 

Which confused you. "Yes?"

"I don't think I'm meant to be sorry for that," he said. "But I am."

"You shouldn't be," you breathed out with a small laugh. 

"Right," he nodded his head, laughing too, awkwardly. "How am I distracting?"

You studied his face for a few moments, which ended up being a pathetic excuse for a lip study, because you were fixated on them again, and you decided Spencer probably didn't even realise that that was what you were doing. 

"We haven't kissed yet," you told him, instead. 

"No. We haven't," he agreed. 

"Do you just not want to kiss me?" you asked.

He did that thing he does when he's thinking — furrowed eyebrows and parted lips, eyes blinking a few times, before he comes up with his response. 

"I just don't want you to be disappointed. I've never kissed anyone before."

"I concluded that," you answered. "I won't be disappointed."

"You might be," he mumbled, and his gaze averted from your own, which had another smile stretching across your lips. 

"Only one way to find out, right?"

He hesitated before nodding his head, lifting his eyes back up to look at you. It was then that you learned that, like everything else, you might have to make the first move on him. Again.

The thought made you laugh, and though he wanted to, he didn't get a chance to question why you were laughing, because your hands were on his face and you were pulling him into you, lips meeting his in a gentle kiss that elicited a surprised squeak from him. 

"You've gotta kiss me back," you murmured against his lips, and his response was a quiet 'oh'. 

But he was a fast learner, because soon after he was. Objectively, it wasn't the best kiss you've ever had in your life. But it got better by the second, and he was doing enough to make your heart stutter in your chest, his hands reaching up to cup your own face, palms and fingers covering the mass of your cheeks. 

His hands there provided him the ability to keep you there, and you had to pry them off your face so you were able to pull back for air, breaths coming out in short pants. Only for a short second, because he was chasing your lips again, and you laughed, before letting him kiss you again. And again. And again. 

Until both of you were out of air, and he was glassy-eyed and pink-lipped. Though, you were probably his mirror image of that.

And he smiled at you, crookedly. And you wondered if it was too soon to say you loved him. 

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[jamminvroomvroom]

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

-

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

-

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i���m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

���can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

-

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

-

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

-

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

-

hehe the end

-

taglist

had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3

[teddybeartoji]

toji is a cat dad. the cat looks so fucking tiny next to him that it's a little comical actually. they spend every morning together – the cat twirls around and between his legs as he's grabbing the food, quietly meowing and purring. toji smiles softly to himself at the little thing's neediness. so cute.

the cat also just loves to follow toji around the apartment. always. he goes to the bathroom? the cat goes to the bathroom. he's cooking in the kitchen? the cat is in the kitchen. he's asleep in the bed? the cat is in the bed. (big man toji stomping around the house with the smallest cat in the world running after him.......... guys i'm melting i'm dying)

ok but he was a little weirded out by the cat's need to be in the bathroom with him lmao. like he's taking a piss and he looks over his shoulder only to find the little kitten just staring up at him with big eyes😭😭😭 toji grumbles under his breath and tries to ignore him but then he ends up looking over his shoulder again, hoping that he left but no. he's still there. sitting like :3 😭😭😭😭

"yer fuckin' weird..." is what toji tells him as he places the cat on the bathroom counter and he just gets a cute meow back as a reply. the cat watches him brush his teeth and toji has to fight the thing because he's now in the sink????? toji needs to spit out the toothpaste but the critter is getting comfortable in the bowl and he actually feels bad abt pushing him away... wahh he's so soft actually guys i can't do this anymore.

if the cat happens to be a big meower, toji's definitely talking back to him. he literally goes "what're ya yappin' about, lil man? 🤨🤨" while looking at the tiny creature. but he loves it, he thinks it's so funny. he picks the little guy up and just stares at him up close O.O (plss the cat is literally like the size of his palm i'm dying it's so cute).

he also likes to carry the cat on his shoulder. i think every cat would actually love toji so much, this is also canon here you cannot argue with me. and i think they'd all find him very comforting? and i think they'd love to sleep on him. so whenever he's cooking and the cat paws at his legs, he just picks him up and places him on his shoulder.

he once did that when shiu was over and he was just ????????? like man what are you doing put the damn cat down ????????? and toji just went. "no. he wants to see." with a blank face. to him it's very obvious. c'mon, the cat is so little, he has no idea what's happening up here, ofc he wants to see??????? smh shiu do better😒😒😒

oh and this was definitely just a stray cat he took in btw. after a long day at work, he was just walking home with a cig between his lips when he heard the teeeniest tiniest little meow coming from behind the dumpster in an alley. and well... the curiosity got the best of him and he went to check it out aaand lo and behold!!!!!!! itty bitty kitty!!!!

big eyes peering up at him behind a thrash bag, he just knew he couldn't leave the poor thing there. he reached out his hand, letting the kitty smell him and he almost dropped his cig when he actually leaned into his touch immediately!!!! that's his baby now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he held the cat to his chest as he made his way home and he even stopped by a little corner store to buy him something to eat. the cashier did look at him with a raised brow bc what the fuck this massive man is holding the smallest cat in the world, but toji didn't mind. he didn't care. the cat slept on his back that very same night.

ALSO. thank u @kentophilia for putting this idea in my head ily<33 during the late hours of the day, toji lays in bed while reading his book with his glasses on – the cat stands on his chest with a determined face. he's already purring even though toji hasn't even done anything. he's just soo comforting and the cat just loves him soooo much okay:((((( toji lowers his book to look at the thing before scratching the top of his head and smiling to himself when the cat closes his eyes and purrs even louder.

the cat ends up trying to make biscuits on him and that makes toji yelp lmao. the tiny little claws dig into his warm skin as the he kneads toji like he's a piece of dough. purring and content – toji doesn't have it in him to make him stop either. it's not like it actually hurts, he was just caught off-guard. he didn't get scared by a cat btw, he didn't. in the end, he keeps reading his book with his one hand while petting the creature with the other. this is their routine. they're family!!!!!!!

anyway. he loves his little kitty cat with all his heart and he would literally kill for him:33333

[nereidprinc3ss]

Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

-------------------------------

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes. 

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening. 

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip. 

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed. 

“Why not?” 

“’Cause I want you to be awake.” 

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks. 

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment. 

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes. 

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. 

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling. 

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face.  “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair. 

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously. 

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone. 

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes. 

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss. 

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe. 

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,�� you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.  

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating. 

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily. 

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them. 

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch. 

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips. 

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills. 

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you. 

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already. 

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine. 

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin. 

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying. 

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom. 

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you. 

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off. 

Maybe even especially then. 

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth. 

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out. 

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp. 

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic. 

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit. 

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more. 

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back. 

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon. 

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation. 

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense. 

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name. 

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.  

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system. 

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again. 

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin. 

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows. 

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts. 

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once. 

“Handles! Duh!”

[luveline]

hotch x reader with new baby girl, honestly i have no ideas just anything with girl!dad aaron lovey fluff is all i want, he’s just so lovely ily jadey 💕

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Hotch is so hungry he genuinely wonders if it is acceptable to collapse and beg you to make him a sandwich. He probably would if Jane hadn’t tired you out so fiercely that morning; learning to crawl is hard on both the baby and the mom. 

It’s not his turn to make dinner, but he is, because he doesn’t really care who’s turn it is. He has the tortellini on a low heat, the veggies toasting to a golden brown in the oven. 

He wonders if having a baby isn’t what you thought it would be. It’s certainly not how Hotch imagined it, because Jane is gorgeous and he couldn’t be more in love with her, but she’s also very hard work. Hard work you often perform alone. You don’t seem upset, only tired, and so making dinner is his pleasure. It’s as he’s finishing up that he wonders if he should’ve offered to put Jane down instead. 

He’s trying so, so hard to be the best father and husband that he can be. He might always find it difficult (but it's an effort he’s always willing to make). 

“Dad?” Jack asks. 

“Yeah?” 

“Dinner almost done?” 

Hotch wraps an arm around Jack’s front despite his wriggling. “Almost,” he says into Jack’s hair, “did you wash your hands?” 

“I always wash my hands. Did you wash yours?” 

Hotch laughs. Steals that extra second with his arms around Jack before he pulls away. “Of course I did. I’m gonna go make sure everything’s okay in babyland, okay? And then we’ll fill in your homework diary.” 

Jack nods and goes back to colouring. In babyland, the living room, outfitted with toys and swings and sleepers, you and Jane are slouched on the floor. You’re leaning against the front of the couch with Jane in your lap while she looks up at you. At eight months old she’s more than fond of a cuddle. Her eyes are wide with love and awe alike as you rub the bridge of her nose with your pinky finger, the closer you get to her eyes, the more they squint closed. You repeat the motion over and over again. “You’re feeling sleepy,” you whisper in a funny tone, “you want to nap badly. You’re gonna sleep for a long couple of hours so mommy can have a bath.” 

“Mom can have a bath,” Hotch says. 

You don’t startle, but your surprise is evident in the way your hand slides up her back. “I’m kidding around.” 

“No, it’s okay. You go take a bath, I can have her.” 

“She might not like that.” 

Jane has clingy syndrome. “Does it matter?” he asks sincerely. If she cries, she cries, and he will try his hardest to comfort her. 

You smile slowly, and sweetly. “Okay, I’ll be quick. I don’t want to miss dinner.” 

“Dinner’s ready when you are.” 

Hotch crouches down to begin the transfer. “Hello, little love,” he murmurs, sliding his fingertips carefully behind her back. She’s warm, her onesie soft. “Can dad have a kiss?” 

Jane is a quiet baby. It’s normal that she might not start speaking for a few more months, but beside the occasional ‘bababa’ or giggly laugh, she doesn’t have much to say —not unlike her father. Her communication lays instead in affection. Her emotional intelligence is in the highest percentile, certainly. 

Not that Hotch is prone to bragging. “There’s my smarty,” he hums, pulling her gently into his arms before he stands. She looks at him with equal parts curiosity and annoyance. 

He can guess what she’s thinking. Why is dad picking me up? 

She looks for you with a wobbly lip. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, can’t dad have some time with you? You’ve favoured your mommy all day.” Hotch brings his free hand to her cheek to stroke it. She loves it, immediately tipping her face into his hand, tickled and huffing as he leans down to kiss her nose. “Please, can I have a kiss?” 

He kisses her cheek. She gives a spitty one back. 

You slink away while she’s distracted and he carries Jane to the kitchen, turning the oven off with one hand, and pushing a chair out with his foot to sit. Jack’s eyes brighten with her arrival, colouring pencils pushed aside. “Hi, Janie.” 

Jack waves at her. She waves back. 

He shifts Jane further into his arms to press lazy kisses over her ear. “My baby,” he murmurs, nearly inaudible against the hum of the washing machine in the utility room and the gentle patter of rain on the windows. “She’s my smart girl. Just like her brother.” He strokes her head back to see her and her baby-lashes. “Hm? You’re my smart girl, aren’t you?” 

She tucks herself into the curve of his neck.

“She knows how to wave already,” Jack says, “when will she be able to say my name?” 

“Pretty soon, bud. Babies tend to learn things in little jumps. She’s making sounds, the babbling she does? That’s a stepping stone. Next she’ll say mama, and then mom, and then we can teach her all sorts of words.” 

“Like crawling to walking.” 

Hotch smiles as Jane leans back against his hand. “Exactly. Jane isn’t the only smarty-pants, huh?” 

Jack smiles in return. “You look happy.” 

“I am happy. So happy, because I’m so lucky to be your dad.” 

“Is it weird?” 

“What?” 

Jack shrugs. “Being a dad.” 

“No, it’s never weird. Sometimes weird stuff happens. Like when we all panicked thinking we couldn’t fine Jane just to realise I was holding her,” —Jack giggles ferociously at the memory— “and, you know, sometimes things get pretty gross.” 

“Like spit up.” 

“Exactly. But being your dad isn’t weird. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m lucky…” He kisses Jane again indulgently. “To have ended up with another child as perfect as the first.” 

“Dad,” Jack says, squirming and pleased at once. 

“What?” Hotch laughs. He has spent a long time proving to Jack that he’s not as serious as he was, a long time trying to keep his promise, and he can see now that it worked. Jack shakes his head and goes back to his colouring as a smile apples his cheeks, not for a moment surprised that his dad loves him without hesitation. 

Hotch beams to himself, absolutely full to the top with love as he lifts Jane up just enough to make her smile too. “Oh, nummy!” he says, taking a big pretend bite of her belly. 

You take a long, long time in the bath. He ends up serving Jack’s plate when his son hints that he’s hungry, and giving Jane another couple of ounces of milk. She grows sleepy on his shoulder. With some soft taps to her spine and a handful of loving shushes, she falls asleep there. 

Sentimental, he thinks, Aw, my girl, and begins to rub her little foot through her onesie. 

You find him standing in the kitchen, hip to the counter. He’s not doing anything besides holding Jane, Jack’s plate abandoned at the table and his cartoons playing from the living room. Hotch should’ve put Jane down for a nap in the bassinet in the living room, freeing his hands to tackle the mess of dishes he’s made preparing dinner, but he honestly hadn’t thought about moving. He’d been perfectly content to hold her and rub her wiggling foot. 

“Sorry I took so long,” you whisper. 

“No, no, you take as long as you need. You look better.” 

You ease between Hotch and the counter, situating yourself in a snug corner to see Jane’s face more clearly. You look at her with love, and then you lean up to kiss his cheek. “I knew you’d get her to nap. You’re amazing.” 

“She likes all the same stuff as you and Jack,” Hotch whispers with a soft laugh.

You pause for a second. Careful, you bring your hand to his cheek, a gentle fist turned with knuckles inward as you stroke his cheek with your index finger. “Can I take a photo of you?” 

“What for?” he asks. 

“I wanna remember it. And it’ll be nice one day to show Jane.” 

“To show her what?” 

“You, Aaron. Show her how much you love her.” You drop your hand to his shoulder for a squeeze. “You’ve gotten even kinder since she was born. Did you notice?” 

It seems you’re feeling sentimental as well tonight. Your long bath has washed away the stress of a longer day. 

“Okay,” he says, too in love with your smile to disagree, “but just one.” 

[softspiderling]

so obsessed with your ex | r.c.

summary: “Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.

OR If Rebecca had known that her obsession with you would lead to you and Rafe getting back together, she would've done a whole lot different.

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader / Rafe Cameron x OC

warnings: during most of this fic, Rafe is dating someone else. Sorry, it's part of the plot, but they don't do a lot of couple-y things, if that's any consolation! Rebecca is kind of delulu (actually, she is very delulu), but i'm hoping that most of you can relate to it, NO cheating!

word count: 4,1k

author's note: something very different, i'm aware, but i was like a woman cursed when i listened to olivia rodrigo's song sorry and this was what i envisioned. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!!!! Also, I want to @ my loveys @rafesmuse and @rafetopia bc ily guys, thanks for the support and my wife @ghostofwriting mwah mwah mwah, happy reading!!!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Rebecca had always felt secure in her relationship with Rafe.

Until she found out about you.

It all started when she was looking for a hair tie, knowing she had left a couple of them in Rafe’s bedroom whenever she stayed over.

“Baby, have you seen my hair ties? I swear I could’ve sworn I put them in the bedside drawer…” Rebecca muttered to herself, pulling open the drawers, rummaging through them. She froze when she brushed a pack of condoms aside to reveal a picture she had never seen before. Rafe was talking to her from the bathroom, but Rebecca couldn’t hear a thing as she picked up the picture, looking at it with a funny feeling.

The picture looked like it was taken mid-conversation as you and Rafe were standing closely together, having eyes for no one but each other. Even though you were barely touching, it felt weirdly intimate. Too intimate to be friendly. And Rebecca recognized you, she had seen you around Kildare before, but you never had made an active move to talk to Rafe when they were at a party, so if you were friends, he definitely would’ve introduced you to her, right?

“Bex, hey. Did you find one?”

“What?”

Flustered, Rebecca looked up from the picture, her cheeks red and Rafe raised an eyebrow at her, a hair tie on his open palm.

“I asked if you found a hair tie. I put them in the bathroom,” he said, rounding the bed to hand it to her. “What d’ya got there?”

“Oh, just a picture I found,” Rebecca said quickly, taking the hair tie out of his hand, moving to put the picture back in the drawer, but Rafe was quicker, snatching it out of her grip with a laugh.

“Are we starting to lie each other now?”

Rebecca watched him closely as he took a look at the picture, pressing her lips together as he paused, taking it in.

“That’s-” she broke off, clearing her throat, before she said your name. “… Right?”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Rafe frowned, before he lifted his head to look at her. Rebecca couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. She had never seen him like this before.

“I didn’t know you dated her,” she said, nonchalantly, hoping he would deny it. But Rafe only shrugged, glancing at the picture one more time before he put it back in the drawer, shutting it close.

“We broke up before you came on the island, how were you supposed to know?”

Rafe pressed a kiss to her temple, but Rebecca was still fixated on the picture, staring at where she knew it laid inside the drawer.

“Are you ready? Top’s gonna come pick us up in a few.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rebecca replied, distracted. “Uh, you can go downstairs, I’ll be down asap.”

“A’ight.”

Rebecca smiled at him, waiting until he left the room, before she slid open the drawer again, reaching for the picture to stare at it, her thumb rubbing circles into the corner, wondering who was still printing pictures in this day and age. She wasn’t sure how long she was standing there, jumping when she heard Rafe yelling for her.

“Bex, Top is here!”

“Coming!” Rebecca called back and without thinking, she slipped the picture into her purse before heading downstairs.

To say that Rebecca grew infatuated with you after finding that picture was an understatement. She was obsessed.

Okay, maybe not obsessed, that had a weird tone to it. Fixated.

She was pretty fixated on you.

Rebecca immediately had followed you on instagram when she got home later that night. Scrolling through your profile, she noticed that while you weren’t following Rafe and vice versa, you still followed all of his friends and his family. Rafe’s younger sister Wheezie seemed to be a constant in your life still, judging by her comments under all of your pictures. Apparently you were still well-liked by his family friends, and Rebecca started to wonder why you and Rafe broke up. But it wasn’t like she could ask Rafe why you broke up, right?

“What?” Topper stared at her, as if Rebecca had just asked him to give her 1k. His look made her nervous though, and she glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Rafe was still out of earshot.

“You’re his best friend,” she stated, albeit unnecessarily. “You have to know.”

Topper rubbed his jaw, like he was conflicted, which Rebecca really didn’t understand. What was the big deal? She had intentionally waited until Topper was a little tipsy, and now she was wondering if that was a mistake, since he seemed strangely paranoid.

“You’re his girlfriend. Shouldn’t you be asking him that question?”

“I don’t want to stir up trouble! Why can’t you just tell me?” Rebecca raised her voice, her cheeks flushing when she realized that people were starting to stare, so she burrowed deeper into the couch, waiting until everyone went back to their business. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked this at a party.

“It was a mutual break up,” Topper then answered, speaking slowly as if every single word leaving his mouth was painful. “Rafe never really told me why, but they just disappeared out of each other’s lives from one day to the next, as if they haven’t been dating for the last four years. But she never badmouthed him in the aftermath… Neither did he.”

Topper’s explanation just created more questions than it answered, but before Rebecca could get her thoughts sorted to prod Topper again, Rafe returned, his shoulders lose.

“Your drink,” he said, handing Rebecca a cup, settling down on the couch next to her, throwing his arm over the back. He hadn’t even been sitting for a minute, when Topper got to his feet, muttering something about finding the pong table for a game.

“What’s with him?”

Rebecca only shrugged, choosing to sip on her drink instead of giving an answer, her mind still reeling from the information she got from Topper. The more she learned about you, the more she was intrigued and filled with questions, that she felt like would never be answered.

“You good?”

Rebecca barely lifted her head from the window she was leaning it, her reaction a little slow. She had been… Drinking a little more than she liked. Every time she wanted to ask Rafe about you, she stopped herself and went for another drink, and that process had repeated itself over and over again until Rafe cut her off, deciding to take her home. Rebecca was more than tipsy, her inhibitions slightly out of control.

“Fine,” she replied with a little sigh, rubbing her temple. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her and she could feel her resolve crumbling. “Why did you guys break up?”

The car swerved off the road for a second, making Rebecca grab onto the arm rest to keep steady while Rafe cursed.

“The fuck?” he said, glancing over at her with a frown. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Rebecca exhaled deeply through her lips before she looked over to him, her brows furrowed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Topper told me you were dating for four years, Rafe. Four years! But he couldn’t even tell me why. Isn’t he your best friend? He should know that, right?”

Rafe stared at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction. Rebecca hadn’t even noticed that he had pulled the car to the side, the motor long off.

“Is this like a test or somethin’?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “No. I’m just genuinely curious. She seems-”

Nice? Super pretty? Like his perfect match?

She didn’t finish her sentence.

“What?” Rafe muttered under his breath, and Rebecca only scoffed in annoyance.

“Whatever,” she huffed, leaning her head against the window again. “Just forget it.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rafe just sitting there, turning the ring on his finger, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“We got into a lot of fights near the end,” he started, his tone defeated. “She’s pretty headstrong, likes being right. I like sticking to my opinion… It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we both knew that something had to change, even though I still…. There was still love.”

Rafe stopped, but Rebecca held herself back with saying anything, wanting to soak up every bit of information he was willing to give her.

“We figured a clean cut would be best for both of us, have no contact. Give us a chance to start fresh, see new people.”

Rebecca could tell that he was holding something back, probably something along the line of how he was struggling with the no contact rule, but didn’t want to seem like he was still holding onto you.

“She’s really pretty,” she only said.

“Yeah.”

Do you still love her?

Rebecca was glad that she was still able to hold herself back enough to not ask that. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like the answer that much.

“Thanks for telling me.”

“Yeah. You done throwing tantrums?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes with a small smile and settled back into her seat while Rafe started the car to continue their way home. Most girlfriends would probably feel angry that their boyfriend seemed to be so sentimental still when it came to their ex, but all that Rebecca could think about was how you clearly were someone he held dear, and that she wished to become that person for him.

And when she was about fall asleep after they got home to his place, she wondered how often you had fallen asleep on her side of Rafe’s bed like this. Did Rafe curl around your back like he did hers? Did you have to fight Rafe for the blankets? She thought finding out more about your past relationship with Rafe, she would stop obsessing you.

But she didn’t.

She kept it to herself, however, not mentioning you again after that one talk in the car she had with Rafe.

Rafe, who had been lighter ever since he talked about you, ever since she pushed him to talk about, which showed her that it was the right thing to do. Her fixation on you helped her relationship with Rafe and to her, that justified the amount of times she was checking out your social media, but Rafe wouldn’t understand. She admired you. Honestly, Rebecca felt like she could become pretty good friends with you, but what excuse did she have to talk to you besides dating your ex boyfriend? Worst case, she’d curse you out, best case she’d give you a fake smile. No thank you. Rebecca would much rather stick to admiring you from afar.

… Which was the reason why she was so nervous, when she met you for the first time. In her defense, this was the last place she had expected to see you. The place being Kelce’s house.

It was his birthday, and to celebrate it, he decided to throw a huge rager at his house. While Rebecca did arrive with Rafe, they quickly separated, with Rafe trying to find Kelce - this was his birthday after all - and her going to see her friends. After about two hours, and Rafe not replying to her texts, Rebecca started to walk around to see if she could find him. Which was easier said than done, the house was packed. When it took her nearly half an hour to get through the kitchen, Rebecca almost gave up until she saw Sarah sitting in the corner of the couch talking to someone.

“Sarah!”

Although Rebecca wasn’t the closest with her, she was about the only person she knew right now, and she could use a familiar face. Slipping between a kissing couple, she made her way straight to the couch, touching Sarah’s shoulder gingerly.

“Hey, I’m so glad I saw you. Have you seen Rafe anywhere? He hasn’t been answering his texts and I-”

Rebecca trailed off when she noticed Sarah glancing to her friend, only to realize that it was you who Sarah had been sitting with, and her words get stuck in her throat.

Oh.

“Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”

“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.

“They’re probably in the basement,” you offered, maybe as some sort of olive branch. “Kelce likes to hide away down there to play pool during his parties.”

“Oh yeah yeah, Rafe probably doesn’t even have any bars down there,” Sarah chimed in.

“Right, okay, thanks,” Rebecca said, awkwardly. She stood behind the couch like a deer in headlights. You must have noticed, because you grabbed Sarah’s arm, scooting back on the couch to make more space.

“You can join us, if you want.”

“… Really?” Rebecca asked skeptically, not quite sure if the invitation was genuine or not.

“Yeah, ‘course.”

Hesitantly, she sat down next to Sarah, trying to get comfortable but she was far too aware of your presence, placing her purse in her lap.

“So have you already settled into Kildare?”

Your eyes were inquisitive and Rebecca was trying to see if there was any sign of malice or distrust in them, but all she could see was genuine interest.

“I mean, I guess so… Life down here is pretty chill. Like it’s its own world…?” Rebecca winces at her own words. “Sorry, that’s stupid.”

“No, no!” You insisted, waving your hands at her quickly. “I know exactly what you mean. We went to Charleston once to tour the college campus there and it was like we were on another planet, remember Sar?”

Sarah’s eyes widened and she nodded quickly, slapping your arm in excitement. It looked like it hurt, but by the way you were laughing, Rebecca assumed it was a regular thing. She wouldn’t know, she barely ever spent over twenty minutes with Rafe’s sister.

“Remember when we were auditing that one sociology class and Rafe fell asleep during the lecture?”

“Oh my god, yes. Because he and Top were playing that stupid video game that came out two days earlier all night long.”

You and Sarah giggled as you reminisced about the past, like two best friends and Rebecca grew envious of your friendship, wondering if she was ever going to have that kind of relationship with Sarah, though you did have running start with building a friendship with her outside of being Rafe’s girlfriend. Or ex, rather. Rebecca started rummaging in her bag, acting like she was looking for something, doing anything to seem less excluded, really.

Your laughter subsided and you smiled at Rebecca, stilling her hands in her purse when she realized the attention was back on her.

“How is Rafe?”

“Oh you know him,” Rebecca replied, a little less nervous now that she was talking about a topic where she wouldn’t feel left out, taking her purse off her lap, placing it on the couch between her and Sarah. “The usual. He’s more focused on keeping up the company than ever, been away a lot.”

You nodded, tucking your hair back, and for a second, you looked incredibly sad. Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, because a second later, you were smiling again.

“I’m really glad he has you,” you then said, completely surprising Rebecca. “I think you’re really good for him. Rafe has been really hard on himself, taking everything a little too seriously, and I think you’re really balancing it all out.”

Rebecca’s eyebrows have almost disappeared into her hairline by now, she was so shell-shocked she didn’t even notice Sarah clinking herself out of the conversation, crossing her arms as she sat back.

“Isn’t it weird for you?”

“You mean because he’s my ex and you’re his new girlfriend?” You smiled wryly at her. “I guess it’s a little weird. But it’s not like there’s any bad blood between Rafe and I… In the end, I just want him to be happy, and it seems like you’re making him happy.”

Ducking her head, Rebecca hoped that it was dark enough to conceal her red cheeks. To her, this felt like an insanely gracious statement and suddenly, Rebecca felt validated for obsessing over you so much. You were great and she wasn’t being parasocial.

“I- Thank you. That really means a lot.”

“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile, glancing at Sarah when she tugged on the ends of your hair gently. “What, do you want to leave?”

“I promised John B I’d meet him on the beach at sunrise.”

“Fine,” you sighed, you and Sarah standing up. Rebecca stayed seated, though she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the conversation was cut short.

“It was really nice to talk to, Rebecca. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

Rebecca waved good bye to you and Sarah, watching as you left with Sarah whispering into your ear insistently. She sat there by herself for a while, replaying the conversation in her head, before she realized she was being weird. Clearing her throat, Rebecca grabbed her purse, that still sat open next to her, her smile dropping when she saw that the picture she had snuck from Rafe’s drawer was peaking out of it.

“Shit,” she muttered to herself, pushing the picture deeper into her purse, before looking up into the crowd, wondering if you had seen it, and if you did, what you thought of her.

“Do you want to do something today?”

After discovering the picture had been sitting in the open like that, Rebecca started worrying if she just ruined her impression you had of her. But seriously, how stupid could she be? She completely forgot that the picture was in that purse. Rebecca had spent the remaining time at the party worrying what you thought of her.

“Like what?”

Rebecca rolled over in bed, looking up at Rafe as he got dressed. It was late in the morning, but still early enough for her to be tired after getting back from Kelce’s so late.

“I don’t know, something fun.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, his face disappearing momentarily while he put his shirt on.

“I have a meeting with Mr. Harris this afternoon and I’m meeting Dennis for an early lunch.”

“But it’s Sunday,” Rebecca pointed out, sitting up, a frown on her face.

“Work is work, no matter what kind of day it is.”

“Sorry, I just thought it’d be nice to do something fun for once,” she said, knowing she would spent the entire day worrying about what you thought of her if she wasn’t distracted, not noticing how Rafe was looking at her through the mirror.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked, his brows furrowed. “You never cared about that before.” Rafe paused, realization washing over his face. “You talked to-” His voice cracked, and Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him.

“… You talked to her, didn’t you?”

Rebecca could hear the accusatory tone in his voice and she leaned against the headboard, drawing her legs close.

“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”

Rafe was quiet for a while and Rebecca could feel a knot forming in her stomach. She couldn’t have two people be mad at her.

“That’s what she said?”

Nodding quickly, Rebecca smiled at him brightly. “Yeah. She was really nice. I like her.”

He let out a quiet huff, followed by a headshake, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

“Alright. Maybe I can cut my lunch meeting short and we can do something after,” Rafe relented, and Rebecca looked up at him in surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ll text you later, alright?”

With a wave, Rafe left the bedroom, and Rebecca laid back down, letting out a happy sigh. Everything was working out in her favor!

A couple of hours later, Rebecca was standing in front of her closet, scanning the different clothes that hung in there, trying to decide on what to wear. She wasn’t sure what Rafe had planned, so she didn’t want to be completely inappropriately dressed. Letting out a annoyed sigh, Rebecca picked up her phone to text her friend for some fashion advice, stilling when she saw the new notification.

“Oh my god.”

You followed her back on insta! You must have not seen the picture after all and think she was weird!!!

Rebecca’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, wondering if she should dm you, maybe ask if you wanted to hang out, before she decided against it, putting her phone back on the dresser, face down. She didn’t want to seem to eager, she could wait a week.

Okay, maybe not a week, Rebecca thought, picking out some shorts and a red top, but a few days at least.

When she was all done, Rebecca grabbed the keys to her car, making her way over to Rafe’s place after he said he was done. It was a beautiful day out and she was so excited to see what he had planned for their date. Parking her car behind Rafe’s truck, she got out, heading inside.

“Baby, it’s me!” she called, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t have to wait long, until she could Rafe coming down the stairs, a box in his hand.

“What’s that?”

Rafe looked at her, his face unreadable.

“… What’s wrong?”

He let out a sigh, before stopping in front of her, and as Rebecca looked into the box, she realized it was full of her stuff.

“We need to talk,” he said, and her jaw dropped.

“What?”

“I just don’t think I’m in this relationship as I thought I was, and I don’t want to string you along, Bex,” Rafe explained, pushing the box into her arms. She just accepted the box, too shocked to do anything else.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No. You did the opposite, actually. Helped me see what I was really feeling. And I thought I’d get this over with, before anyone else gets hurt,” Rafe told her. “You understand, right?”

She only blinked at him, nodding dumbly.

A grin grew on Rafe’s face, and he stuffed his hands in his pocket. “Great. I knew you would understand.”

With an arm on her back, he lead Rebecca outside, and she just let him, moving on autopilot.

“I’ll see you around Bex,” he said, standing in the doorway, his hand on the door. “Don’t be a stranger.”

With those words, Rafe shut the door in her face, and Rebecca just blinked, still not having processed the situation.

“And he said he doesn’t want to string you along?”

“Yes.”

The words were muffled.

Rebecca was facedown in her pillow, hoping to die of embarassment, even if Jane was her best friend in Kildare. It had taken her a week to recuperate before she could tell her friends what happened, mostly because she still wasn’t sure what had happened.

“Are you okay?”

She lifted her head, giving Jane a look.

“I just don’t understand why he broke up with me.”

Jane waved her off, picking up her phone. “Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll come crawling back tom- Never mind.”

“What?”

Having stopped mid-sentence, Jane was staring at her phone, eyebrows raised so high and Rebecca groaned, taking the phone out of her hand.

“You can’t just stop talking in the middle of the-”

Her eyes widened when she saw what had rendered Jane speechless: Sarah had posted an instagram story, a picture of a couple walking hand in hand in front of her. It was dark and a little blurry, but Rebecca could tell exactly who it was: You and Rafe.

“He’s such an asshole!” Jane screeched, snatching her phone out of Rebecca’s hand. “Let’s egg his house!”

Rebecca only snorted, rubbing her hands over her face with a groan. “J, no. Believe it or not, but I feel like this one’s on me.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: tell me what you think :)

[chaotic-mystery]

PROFESSOR’S PET

Pairing: Art Professor!Joel AU x Teacher Assistant!f!reader.

Summary: Professor Miller wants you to teach the class tomorrow morning & you need help being less nervous. What if he’s the reason you’re nervous, though?

Content Warnings: SMUT 18+ only! MDNI. Age gap but not specified, power imbalance (professor x TA, reader stutters when nervous, academic weapon, teasing, fingering, one (1) pair of panties ripped to shreds, oral (f receiving), spitting, pussy slaps, praise kink, name calling (good girl, sweetheart, baby, smart girl), dirty talk, talking you through it, spanking, condescending a little bit, cum eating, face riding, nasty freaky kisses to share your cum, no use of y/n.

Authors Note: Good morning, babies! This is for @studioghibelli & their fantastic writing challenge. This moodboard was absolutely brilliant. As someone who did not go to college & can’t retain information well, I tried to research as much as I could about art so I hope I did it justice! 🩵 || wc: 2.6k || beta’d by @wannab-urs <333 ily sm gin ||

“You want me to do what?”

It came out more as an exclamation rather than a question but you didn’t care at the moment.

He couldn’t have been serious.

“I want you to teach the class tomorrow about your two favorite artists. That’s all I’m askin’” Professor Miller says, stuffing his papers back into the desk drawer for the night.

“B-but you know I don’t talk well in front of them, I constantly stutter and they don’t respond well to me yet, I-”

“Do you need me to help you with the lesson plan for tomorrow? I can come over and help you write down some notes on what you want to talk about, but I need you to get more comfortable around them. We have a long school year ahead of us, and it’s not going to work if you’re afraid to speak up here.”

He was annoyed having to explain his reasoning, but he was right. Even if you didn’t want to hear you were doing a terrible job as a teacher's assistant. Scratching your head and turning so he can’t see the look of shame on your face, Joel shuffles towards you and hands you your coat off the coat rack.

“It’ll be fine. All you need is a push and you’ll do great. Hurry before we miss the train.”

You nod and take your coat to put it on, the tan fabric becoming darker as you step outside and rain starts to pelt off it. Mr. Miller sighs and hoists his briefcase above his head and takes his other hand to the side of him searching for yours until he finds it and grabs it, guiding you through the raindrops until you get under the stone archway to take a brief moment for the rain to calm down.

“Can’t believe I’ve had you as a TA for almost two years now and have never once seen where you live or even know about you outside of this place.” His finger wags slowly behind his head, indicating he was referring to the school.

“I don’t really like to talk about myself, but my parents made a really good name for themselves. I was put through all the good schools they could toss their money at. I was supposed to go to school to be a lawyer, but I wasn’t interested in the slightest. I told my mom I wanted to study visual arts and she wasn’t too surprised, said I always had an eye for that sort of thing. I want to become a professor here one day but for now I just want to learn everything I can, ya know?” You smile at the ground as you think about teaching here someday and hope it doesn’t come off as dorky.

He’s so much older than you and probably knows so much between art and life. You could only hope to have as much knowledge as him when you become a professor.

“I think that’s amazing honestly. I hope to one day see you as a professor here whenever you feel like you’re ready.”

His grin eases your nerves, and you hear the train coming, taking his hand once more to run to the train stop. Your shoes squeak against the vinyl flooring of the moving cabin until you get to a seat by the foggy window, plopping your bag right next to you with Joel sitting across the small white table that was tattered from all the use.

The train ride to your town wasn’t too long and Joel read almost the entire time, asking you every now and then if you were okay. Once you catch a taxi to take you home, it drops you off right at the black iron gates. He steps out of the sleek black car and is a little taken aback by the size of your house.

“What’s the matter? I told you they had money.” You giggle and push the buzzer on the stone post to the left of you, telling them to let you inside. Almost instantly, the gates push open and you walk along the pebble drive, flinging your book bag over your shoulder as he follows a few steps behind you, taking in the beauty that is your house.

Once you get inside and introduce him to the small group of staff working, they tell you your parents went out for the evening to some charity event and there’s food in the fridge if you were hungry.

The nerves about teaching tomorrow overrode the feeling of being hungry, but you still offered Joel anything he could’ve wanted. He settles with water, and you leave him in the study where he’s content with gazing at the walls covered in full bookshelves about any and everything.

You come back in and shut the rosewood pocket doors quietly, careful not to disturb him from the current book in his hand about astronomy. The way his fingers grazed over the corners of the pages made your stomach tingle just a little bit, the dim lighting from the chandelier glowing a soft yellow on his face as he was entranced by the contents.

Get it together, he’s off limits, you tell yourself.

There was no ring on his finger and he always talked about his lonely weekends, but still. You were his teacher's assistant.

You clear your throat and set his water down on the desk before you turn on the green bankers lamp sitting at the edge of the table. Joel closes the red leather book and looks up at you, noticing the water, and he puts the book back where he found it.

“Thank you.” He raises the glass to you before taking a sip, the muscles in his neck contracting as he swallows, and it brings that same feeling as before that you felt in your stomach.

So, give me two of your favorite art pieces and the artist with some facts about them. You don’t have to start from their birth or anything.”

He pinches his slacks right on the thighs to hike them up just a little before he sits down in the wooden chair at the head of the table, his hands on the back of his head as his fingers interlock against his skull.

Focus.

You pace back and forth at the other end of the table, Joel’s eyes on you intently as you fiddle with your fingers, running through the list of artists you tend to gravitate towards.

“I got it. Botticelli.”

“Nice choice. Why him?”

You continue to walk back and forth and sort out which facts about him and his artwork you love to tell people they wouldn’t normally know.

“I love the painting Birth of Venus but um- it’s not technically her birth story, it’s m-more like the story continued after her birth; when she steps off her shell and onto the island of Cyprus. S-she’s being blown onto…” you take a deep breath in and put your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

You turn away from him and look out the window trying to compose yourself.

“Just take your time, I’ve got all night, kid.”

Turning to face him, he’s sitting straight up now and you can tell he’s listening to every word coming out of your mouth. His dark jacket is tight on his arms and it’s just enough to show the outline of his muscles.

“She’s being blown onto shore by the spring winds which is Zephyr, who is accompanied by his wife, Chloris, who’s also blowing Venus’ shell to shore. Her pose was most likely inspired by an ancient marble statue in the Medici’s collection, which we refer to as the Medici Venus, the first ever nude female sculpture in classical art.”

You manage to recite all of that without stuttering this time and he grins proudly.

“I knew you could do it. Good job. Now, what I want you to do is write down bullet points on this note card with a keyword that’ll spark your mind and draw the facts out of you fluently.”

Your cheeks warm at first and then your brows furrow at his instructions.

“What do you mean, professor?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He scoots his chair back enough so you can stand to the side of him and watch as he scribbles down some words on the lined piece of paper. The red ink flows effortlessly and he pushes it to you, pointing at what he did.

“It’s just a keyword that’ll spark your brain to talk about it. If you write down everything you’re gonna say, it sounds like a robot trying to read it. This way, you won’t get overwhelmed by everything you wanna say and you can sound effortless.”

You nod as the gears in your head turn, the idea making perfect sense now. Reaching out to grab another note card, you bend over to write on it, starting at the top. You feel Joel’s hand on the small of your back very lightly as he watches you write, the pen in your hand moving faster than he’s ever seen.

“The next one is gonna be the technique he used for the painting.”

You write the word ‘technique’ shakily, trying to breathe manually.

“What about his technique?” Joel asks, his hand not moving from your back.

“H-he um, he used the tempera technique, it’s when you d-dilute a raw egg with water and mix watered down p-pigment with it and um-um paint with it.” Your words get breathy and all at once you stand straight up, clearing your throat once more.

“You’re still pretty nervous. Is it me? Am I making you nervous?” The condescending tone in Professor Miller's voice makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up, feeling like you’ve been called out.

“Partially, maybe.” You admit and turn away from him but you don’t move from next to him.

He runs his hand over his scruff and smirks slyly.

“Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation you nod yes.

“Turn around for me.” Joel’s hands grip your hips and spin you around in your spot.

“Now read your little note card for me. Come on, you’ve got this, smart girl.”

That was all you had to hear to make your stomach flip and arousal flood your body. Smart girl.

His hands never leave your hips as he holds you still, subconsciously rubbing the fabric of your skirt on the waistband while you read your notes. You manage to get through half of them before you stutter out and stop again.

“Again, from the top.” He says softly, still holding onto you. Just as you begin to speak, you feel yourself being guided backwards and you don’t stop talking, going with the flow of things.

For the purpose of learning, right?

Joel puts you right against his thighs, his head peeking over the side of your arm to see what bullet point you were on.

“Keep going, you’re doing such a good job.” He whispers as he rubs your back gently.

“Botticelli used the tempera technique, which is when you mix a r-raw egg with water a-and you dilute yo-our pigment with water and mix th-em together.”

His hand ever so slowly moves around the side of your thigh until he’s on the top of it, his thumb dangerously close to the point of no return. Your breaths were getting heavier and you were almost positive he could feel your heart rattling in your body like a caged animal.

“Joel, I-”

“Start it again, and if you stutter I’ll stop.”

His hand dips under your skirt and he nods to your index card, wanting you to restart.

“Well come on, be a good girl for me.” He grunts out and smirks before biting your arm playfully.

You didn’t know how you got here or why he wanted to touch you this way but you weren’t going to stop him. He was a good looking man and god forbid you do something out of your normal routine.

His fingertips dance over your overly excited clit and release some tension for you, and it’s like a key to a gate, your legs spreading more and more with every circle from his middle finger. You continue to talk through his efforts to make you stutter, even when he gets faster and kisses your back.

“Just like that, sweetheart. Next artist, let’s go.” He pushes you up on the desk and splits your legs apart, ripping your panties in two before he takes off his jacket and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

“The Swing painted by Jean-Honore Fragonard. It’s said it’s a commission from a man on the court who requested Fragonard to paint him and his younger mistress being pushed on a swing while he watches and admires her-oh my god, Joel, right there, yes, yes.”

His tongue dances against your clit after he spits on it, licking every inch of you just to hear your pretty moans. His hands travel up your abdomen until he gets to your shirt, ripping the buttons apart to see your beautiful breasts. A deep groan against your overly sensitive clit makes your eyes almost roll back into your skull and he slaps your pussy firmly.

“That’s not being a good girl. Did I tell you to stop?”

“No, sir.” You whimper and try to get back on track about the painting you were talking about. His curls tickle against the soft insides of your thighs as he continues, licking feverishly at your clit.

“The brushwork is rapid and it exemplifies the Rococo style of playfulness and elegance” you whimper out and buck against his face, your hand dipping into his hair to tug firmly.

He spanks your ass as he feels your body squirm under him, tugging your legs to rest on his shoulders as he continues to lap up your arousal.

“You’re such a filthy girl, riding your professor's face in your house, naughty naughty girl. Oh, yes, cmon sweetheart, use my mouth.”

You moan his name louder and thank god your sounds are muffled from the rest of the house by all the literature covering the walls. Somehow you finish telling him about the painting and he looks at you as you cry out for more from him, your slick glossing over his mustache.

“Please make me come, Joel. Please, I need you so bad.” You kiss him roughly and try to grab his rock hard bulge but he pulls his hips away and groans loudly on your lips before grinning, going back down to your pussy and moaning against you.

“Come right on my face, right fuckin’ now. Let me taste how sweet you are. I know you can’t handle much more and you don’t wanna disappoint me, right baby?” Joel smirks and flattens his tongue against your clit once more, teasing you and enjoying this just as much as you were.

The burning sensation in your belly starts to spill over and before you can tell him, you grip both edges of the table and come against his face, crying and squirming to get away from him but it only makes Joel pin you down by your wrists and lick harder, tasting every bit you give him.

He licks you clean and kisses his way up your stomach, through the valley of your breasts to your lips, sharing the deliciousness with you. As you come down from your high, the grandfather clock in the corner of the room starts to chime, indicating it was midnight.

“That 7:30 A.M. class is gonna be here before you know it, professor.” You push the damp curls off his forehead and giggle as he stands up tiredly, holding a hand out for you. As you sit up on the table, his hand cups your cheek and kisses you deeply once more.

“You owe me sleep, so much sleep.”

[dollfacefantasy]

Hold My Calls

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: you teasing leon about his flip phone leads to some fun

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral (f receiving), fucking during a phone call, age gap, daddy kink, praise/degradation, over-stimulation

word count: 2.9k

a/n: hey everyone school is kicking my ass rn, but i am back with another one. thank you so much for the support on my last post that meant the world to me. i don't care if this is not technologically accurate or whatever just let me be delusional in peace. as always comments and reblogs are appreciated and i will give you special smooches in return <3 also thank you too my loves @tosuckmyweenis @kaitkatme @chasingkennedy @explorevenus @sleepyluxe @death-paint @petitecolibri for helping me come up with ideas for this one and/or beta reading - ily all sm :)

When you started dating Leon Kennedy, obviously you knew there was an age gap. You figured it wasn’t a big deal. He’s only thirty-six. That isn’t that much older. And for the most part, that was true. The difference in years never seemed to play a huge part in how you loved each other. But there was one thing that reminded you of this man’s age.

He had a fucking flip phone.

Honestly, it didn’t even say much about his age. It highlighted his stubbornness. He was not incompetent. His job had him working with all kinds of shit that you didn’t even try to understand, so it’s not like he can’t work a smartphone. He just doesn’t want to.

It didn’t really matter. If anything, it was kind of cute. The way he fumbled with the buttons that were too small for his fingers. The loud chiming ringtone that he would grumble about yet never turn down. The sight of him trying to find the right distance to hold the phone away from his face so he could read the font. You had heart eyes on your first date when this man popped in a CD because he couldn’t use the aux with his flip phone. They were simple quirks, but they were just so endearing to you. You’d tease him about being outdated, and he’d put up with it cause it was you.

“Why do I need anything more? This thing can call you, and that’s all I really need,” he’d say with a teasing expression when you’d crack a joke.

You’d roll your eyes at the excessive charm, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, but-”

And he’d cut you off with a kiss. “Trust me. I like it. It’s simple. Plus it’s like indestructible. But if I ever want an upgrade, you’ll be the first to know.”

The only time Leon ever considered ditching his trusty flip phone and upgrading to something more advanced was when you would send him nudes. Seeing the masterpiece that is your body reduced to a handful of pixels on the tiny screen drove him fucking wild. Upon hearing the chime of his phone and seeing the small image of you gracing his screen, he’d find a moment alone to try and see the details. He’d hold the phone two inches away from his face trying to make out every last curve. Days when he got those pictures ended with nights where you got fucked on every surface in the house.

He’d come home from work, his eyes full of lust before he even saw you. You’d glide into the room with a knowing smile on your face. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you.

“Hi, baby. How was work?” you ask, feigning innocence. You close the distance between the two of you and wrap your arms around him.

“Oh, you care about my work now, huh?” he asks, a smirk creeping onto his face as his arms return your embrace, “Doesn’t seem like it when you send me those cute pictures during the day, distracting me, making me think about you when I should be focused.”

Your lips part and your eyebrows raise in mock offense. “I only send those to help you, motivate you,” you tease as your fingers coast along his biceps, “Maybe if you had a real phone they wouldn’t bother you so much. You’d be able to see everything clearly and not be left imagining.”

“I don’t need to stress about pictures though when I got the real thing waiting at home for me every night,” he purrs as he leans in and starts kissing you.

You return the kiss with the same level of passion, lips moving with his as the two of you stumble over to the couch. You fall back onto the cushions with Leon on top of you. His hands already roam your body and begin removing articles of clothing. He wasn’t in the mood to take his time after having that grainy image of you gnawing at his mind all day.

“Fuck, baby. Every time… I can never get enough,” he grunts as he yanks your top over your head and tosses it to the side. His hands rub up and down your sides, the rough pads of his fingers dragging over your sensitive skin and making you squirm. In no time though, they’re on your breasts. He kneads the plump flesh as his lips trail down to your neck and collarbone, leaving a trail of saliva-coated skin in their wake.

He’s all over you all at once it seems. It’s overwhelming in the best way. You’re moaning and writhing on the couch, nearly trying to hump his leg while one of your hands tugs at his hair. You bite your lip and whimper as his lips move down over the swell of your chest.

He grabs your hips firmly and presses them down to the couch. His half-lidded eyes look up at you momentarily. “Quit squirming,” he breathes. He gives your chest a few more kisses while keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Need time with my pretty girl after I’ve been aching for her all day.”

You give a weak nod and focus on controlling your movements as he tugs your shorts off and drops them.

“Good girl,” he mutters before attaching his lips to one of your nipples and swirling his tongue around the peak. He hums in satisfaction as he feels the bud in his mouth. His fingers lazily stroke up and down your folds over your panties. He disconnects his mouth momentarily and looks up at you again with a smirk on his face.

“So wet already?” he teases, now being his turn to look smug, “You want me just as bad, don’t you? That’s why you send those pictures right? You’re missing Daddy while he’s at work?”

“Mhm, miss you so bad. It drives me crazy,” you say. A whimper escapes you as his fingers apply more pressure and his movements more strategically target your clit.

“I can tell. Makes you act like a little slut, huh?” he asks before he kisses down your stomach to the hem of your panties.

You feel your face getting hot at his comment, but you nod anyway. You bite your lip and keep your eyes locked with his.

He chuckles at your timid confirmation. “That’s ok, honey. Daddy’s here now. I’m gonna make sure you get all the attention you need. Can’t have my girl left wanting,” he says, pulling down your panties and putting them with your other discarded clothes.

He loops his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer so that you’re angled in a way he can reach you from his position on his knees. Your back is flat on the couch, and your legs are held over his shoulders. He doesn’t waste time, licking a stripe up your cunt and then delving his tongue inside of you.

Your head falls back onto the cushion in response. A moan escapes your throat at the sensation. Your sounds only increase in frequency and volume as he grips you tighter and fucks his tongue in and out of you. He watches you, relishing how he can pleasure you with so few touches. His tongue laps up your wetness and his mouth finds your clit again, sucking and flicking against the bundle of nerves just how you like.

His name and a variety of expletives leave your mouth while your hand slides into his hair and holds the blonde locks. Your hips twitch from the rising feelings of ecstasy in your tummy, but Leon’s hands keep you firmly in place. He devours you like a starved man, the hours of torture that little picture inflicted on him all paying off right now.

He’s skillfully swirling patterns onto your clit and occasionally exploring your insides. He knows you’re close because he can feel the way you’re pulsing and hear the way your moans and whines reach that slightly higher pitch. It only makes him work with more dedication.

“That’s right, sweetheart. C’mon, give it to Daddy. Let me taste it,” he grunts as he continues working you to the edge.

You cry out, your thighs quivering and your hips bucking as you succumb to release. You’re moaning with abandon, fingers clutching his hair as tight as possible. He groans into you from the sight in front of him.

You ride the high and he continues with his mouth throughout. When you reach the seeming conclusion, your chest is heaving and your limbs feel heavy, but Leon doesn’t stop. He continues on as if you were still on the way to your climax instead of coming down.

“Too much,” you whimper as your hips jerk and your hands make a weak attempt to push his head away, “Daddy, please.”

“Daddy, please?” he mocks with a laugh, “But this is what you wanted, babydoll. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?”

You whine, hips still squirming as your retort dies in your throat. It felt euphoric, it was just so much. This was what you wanted though.

“That’s what I thought,” he says before burying his face between your thighs again.

He continues eating you out until you’re an absolute mess. Your eyes are rolling back, nonstop whimpers fall from your lips, and your twitching thighs are clamped around Leon’s head. It was what he’d been wanting to see since he’d heard that chime in his back pocket.

“I’m gonna cum,” you slur. Your head felt cloudy from the numerous orgasms he’d brought you. A strangled cry tears through you as your body moves like it’s possessed. You convulse on the couch while his mouth makes you see stars for the umpteenth time.

Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of your release, and finally, he starts easing off of you. He pulls your thighs off of his head and leans back. He wipes his chin that’s coated in your slick and licks his fingers. Seeing that alone has you clench around nothing which in turn spreads a smirk on his face.

“Good girl, baby,” he coos, planting a kiss on your inner thigh, “You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

He stands up from his knees, grunting as he gets to his feet and taking a moment to stretch. You can tell the extended amount of time in the position put some strain on him. Your lips curl into a small smile while adoration fills your hazy eyes.

“Your joints locking up on you, old man?” you tease with a quiet laugh.

“Don’t start,” he says, trying to sound stern, but you can see him suppressing his own smile, “Especially since I know you want more.”

That shuts you up because he’s right. He shakes his head and makes a mock sound of disappointment.

“I know you, baby. My dirty girl. Made you cum how many times, and you still want more,” he says. He begins stripping off his clothes into a pile next to yours. “My little whore would never turn down a chance to take my cock.”

Once his clothes are off, he languidly strokes himself a few times and climbs on top of you. He peppers some kisses on your face and starts to slide inside you. You were more than ready but still sensitive from the recent series of highs.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl. I’ll get you full of my cum in no time. Fuck all that neediness right out,” he murmurs into your ear, his breath on you sending chills down your spine.

You mewl and tighten around him in more ways than one. Your arms cling to his torso that hovers above you while your walls squeeze around him to take him deeper. He grunts and his head falls forward a little as he feels sparks of pleasure in his abdomen.

“There you go, angel. Taking me so perfect. My pretty girl. Made for me,” he says into your ear as he sinks into you completely.

You nod mindlessly, your head fogging up again as he fills you. He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he starts pumping in and out. You’re both breathing heavily and allowing the pleasure to take over. One of your hands slides to his hair to rub his head while his hips snap against you.

He’s falling into the perfect rhythm with you, one that’s driving you both toward the goal line, when suddenly you hear a muffled guitar strum coming from the floor. Leon groans and you burst into laughter as you hear the ringtone you had set for him as a joke.

His movements get weaker as his focus is drawn elsewhere, but he doesn’t stop rocking his hips. He reaches down to the floor where his phone is ringing in the pocket of his crumpled pants. He fishes it out and shifts so he’s kneeling while drilling into you.

He holds the phone up and squints to read the tiny caller ID on the flip phone which makes you laugh harder through moans. He smirks at your laughter and clamps a hand over your mouth. “Shut up, I gotta take this,” he says teasingly.

He whips open the phone, the maneuver causing you to moan and squeeze around him again. He winces at the sensation, nearly unable to restrain himself from giving into his carnal urges to groan and slam into you harder.

Your eyes widen as he brings the phone to his ear without stopping his hips and in the most monotonous voice says “Kennedy here.”

It’s good that his hand is over your mouth to keep you quiet. The contrast of his movements and that voice have the sparks of pleasure igniting into flames in your belly. Seeing how he handles his dumbass flip phone so smoothly has your arousal nearly pooling on the couch.

He listens to the call while grinning at you struggling to keep yourself somewhat under control. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Sounds about right,” he drones as the person on the other end goes on and on.

His strokes are just as deep as before, nudging you in the perfect spots repeatedly. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself getting near the peak. A soft whimper escapes you, loud enough to pierce the barrier of Leon’s hand. His hips sputter at the noise and his face contorts. He lets out a quiet grunt but quickly catches himself before losing it further.

“What? Yeah, I’m listening,” he says, his tone growing a little impatient, “Look, I’m just wrapped up in something right now. Could you not have just told me this before I left?”

You know he’s getting closer himself and struggling to hold back. You can tell from the way his jaw is clenched and his eyes are projecting his rising frustration he has for the person who made this call.

“Yes, I understand. I’ll deal with it tomorrow,” he says, effectively ending the conversation. 

Then, to hang up, he doesn’t press a button. Instead, he flicks his wrist and shuts the flip phone with a clack.

You throw your head back against the couch cushion and a loud moan rips through your throat. You shudder as a wave of pleasure courses through you after witnessing something so unexplainably hot.

His eyebrows raise in amusement, noticing how much you enjoyed that. “Hmm, I’m not hearing any complaints about the phone now,” he says. He’s trying to tease, but his voice is husky with arousal. He maintains his grin as he drops the phone to the floor again and returns to his previous position which was closer to you.

“Careful, you’re gonna break it,” you whimper.

“Nah baby, I told you that thing is indestructible,” he breathes and starts pounding you into the couch mercilessly.

You bite your lip and resume clinging to him, your fingers digging into his back. You both are panting, expressions going lax as you focus on chasing the high.

“Daddy, ‘m gonna cum,” you mewl, unable to contain yourself for much longer.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” he says into your ear, his voice taking on more of a growl, “Daddy’s right there with you. You deserve it for being so good for me. Being nice and quiet while I was on the phone.”

As soon as you have permission, you give into another release. Your legs shake and your arms cling to him tighter as the euphoria shoots through you. You’re gasping for air and whining while squirming beneath him. Soon it’s just too much for Leon. He tightens his grip on you and slams deep before groaning and draining himself inside of you.

He rocks in and out a few more times before slowly pulling out. He then sits up on the couch and sinks back into the cushions. You follow by sitting up as well and curling up against his side. He pulls you into his lap, stroking your hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while until he gazes down at you with a smug look in his eyes.

“I knew the flip phone was a turn-on,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

You scoff. “It is not. It was just… it was the situation,” you defend.

“Sure, but you were tightest when I was messing with the phone,” he says knowingly.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

He laughs at your stubbornness and gives you another kiss. “You can admit it, baby. I won’t judge. Really, if you like it that much, maybe I’ll show you how strong it can vibrate later.”

[tteokdoroki]

✩ — ANGELS SHOULD NEVER FALL THIS FAR FROM HEAVEN ⁀➷ everyone believes satoru gojo to be an angel. your mother considers her new son to be a blessing, even if he’s bratty and spoiled. but never once did think teasing him would make your step-brother to act on such ungodly desires. (3.2K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, pwp, college!au, religious imagery, step-cest, groping, fingering, ‘just the tip’, exhibitionism, clothed sex, male masturbation, slight degradation, bratty behaviour, use of oneesan, unprotected sex, ruined orgasms, cumplay, fem!reader, step-bro!gojo.

things to note. lol sorry it’s been a while !! trying a new layout also posting this into the void while i work on kinktober eee !! idk i’ve had a rough time trying to write a one shot so im glad i could make this !! special thanks to @kishibye for beta reading. i hope you enjoy this bestie boos ily <3

“what are you doing?” there’s a sharp edge to the tone of satoru’s voice, splayed across his tongue that holds back a stream of curses. his eyes speak fury in their piping hot flames of wild cerulean as he watches you enter the kitchen and shoot straight for the snack cupboard.

you can feel the weight of his gaze as it crosses the slopes of your body, from the back of your head, twirling around your curves before ultimately falling to your behind.

playing innocent, you stand on your tip toes and grasp at the bag of chips you’re after. the ones on the top shelf. “whaddya mean ‘what am i doing’?”

“what do you mean what do i mean?” your step brother retorts childishly, as if you’re two kids fighting on a playground at recess.

you click your tongue and pay him no mind. “don’t be such a baby, satoru,” you wave a hand in his face in a haughty manner. “use your big boy words.”

gojo suppresses a whine when your shirt rides up and reveals your skin to gorgeous eyes. he lets it gargle around in his throat like the sting of cool mouthwash, before striding over to you — grabbing the chips and slamming the cupboard shut so hard it makes you jump.

“you can’t just walk around dressed like that.”

he gestures to your get up — the clothes you wear when nobody’s home. your sapphire silly and scallop-edged panties, your old and ratty band t-shirt haphazardly thrown on.

“why?” you turn around to come face to face with your younger (step)brother, noting the way his stare hones in on the plush meat of your thighs as you squish them together — leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“my friends are coming over.”

“so, what’s the big deal?” there’s something about pissing gojo off that entertains you. he’s a brat by all means, raised with a silver spoon in his mouth and daddy’s dollars tucked into his pockets. whenever there’s a problem, all it takes is a classic ‘toru temper tantrum and your parents are on the scene to fix things for him. he’ll never know the hardships of being raised by a single mother, always having a little less than most. he walks around in his own little bubble of riches - and you can’t help but want to pop it. “shoko thinks i’m cool and geto will probably jack off to me later. it’s whatever.”

“but it’s not whatever,” you can practically see satoru fight the urge to stomp his foot like a petulant child — even going as far to have the audacity to pout down at you. “you’ll just embarrass me. so do us both a favour and put some clothes on, nobody wants to see all that ‘round the house.”

“do you own this house?”

“no but i-“

“but your daddy does. and daddy isn’t here! so shut up, satoru!” jabbing a finger into his chest, you smile up at your not-so-little little step-brother, evilly. “i make the rules.”

“oh fuck you. all you do is mooch off of my dad, princess. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your mom whoring it out for him.” he sneers in response, upper lip curling into a distasteful snarl like a dog with a stranger on its territory. his words, though cruel and foul, are far from the truth and you know that he doesn’t mean it. satoru is a brat that throws acid laced words at anyone who gets in his way — yourself included.

even though you agree that your parents tied the knot all too fast — barely giving the two of you a chance to get to know each other as siblings. they were in love and far too happy for the rivalry between their children to get in the way. you know that the fact pissed gojo off to no end, he hated how your mother doted on him and how he’d always needed to fight for his father’s attention. now it certainly wasn’t ever going to be on him. but the two women in his house instead.

your poor, spoiled, baby brother.

however, you won’t let his words and how he projects onto you, hurt you. “whoops! looks like i dropped my will to give a fuck!” whilst pretending to drop your snack, you bend over in front of him to reveal inches of beauty marked and blemished flesh, drawing hungry seafoam eyes to the bounce of showing your ass — testing your little step brother. “i don’t care satoru, i’m older.”

satoru’s mouth snaps shut after moments of wordlessly opening and closing. he stands frozen on the spot, as if he can’t seem to process the very idea that his older step-sister had just flashed him to prove a point.

but just when you think you’ve won, the silver-haired brat is pressed right up behind you, forcing your body to bend over the cold marble counter that instantly has your nipples hardening against the icy surface. heat rushes to your face, blossoming just under the barrier of your skin as his hard on nestles it’s way between your ass cheeks — a symphony of your surprised squeaks echoing through the modern kitchen.

“hey! what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

instead of responding, he pushes your head down against the counter — circling his increasingly wet erection against your behind, manhandling the globes of flesh back onto his dick. “not so fun, is it.” he coos down at you, voice chilly and full of condescending highs and lows. “yanno…you’re awfully mean to me.”

saliva pools on your tongue, weighing it down in your mouth like a paperweight as satoru’s girth slips downwards, seedy tip brushing over panty clad and your swollen clit. “aren’t oneesan’s s’pposed to take care of their baby brothers?” his breath is hot and ragged against your ear as gojo haunches over you, caging you in like a wild animal as you thrash and writhe under his touch.

you can’t even bring yourself to feel an ounce of shame when gojo’s left hand dances between your tangled limbs and slips past the frilly band of your underwear — ghosting over the throbbing pearl laying between your sticky pussy lips. “step…step brother!” you whinge at the tingle of pleasure that blooms in your lower tummy and spreads like angel wings throughout the rest of your body. 

satoru takes turns playing with you, alternating between his nimble, skilled fingers and his seedy girth that smears precum all over your inner thighs and panties. “like that even fuckin’ matters.” he laughs, twisted and proud. “could you get off like this? yeah i think you could…. you’re already so wet. just from grinding on your little brother’s cock.”

your legs grow shaky at his ministrations, beads of your juices oozing from your empty entrance to stain the man’s sweats, slicking him up as if it’s a signature of your claim. “‘toru!” you gasp, eyes rolling back into the depth of your skull. “m-more.”

“look at how fast you fold for me…” he pushes up your shirt so that the fabric pools around your waist — pawing at the fat there, massaging your hips softly as if he isn’t violently, cruelly rubbing one out on your achey pussy. “i don’t think you’re in a position to ask me for more, big sis.” satoru taunts, a heavy hand coming down on the bare skin of your ass, leaving a raw handprint in its place. “such a nasty slut, i bet you’d let me fuck you like this too. out in the open, where anyone could catch us.”

you yelp in surprise at the feeling of gojo’s messy, cream coated cockhead nudge at your entrance from over your panties — a slender finger pulling the soaked material to the side so he can fuck you with his tip. “oh, i bet you’d like that, huh baby?” he continues to purr, jutting his hips forward ever so slightly — feeding your greedy cunt a few more inches of him. satoru’s barely sheathed inside of you, but you’re already stretching deliciously around what he’s given you. he’s fat, girthy just as he is long and his mushroom tip drags along sensitive spots in your walls you didn’t even know you had.

 he hasn’t even fucked you properly yet.

you sob, wail and writhe on your little step brother’s cock, nails clawing at the marble counter while your breath escapes you. “satoru, please fuck me. ‘m sorry… sorry—!”

“shh big sis, you’re being too loud,” he cups a hand over your mouth. gojo eases two digits past your plump lips to pacify your cries as he shallowly pumps his wet cock into the heat of your sex — gritting his teeth to hide his own moans. “we…fuck, you’re tight as shit… we wouldn’t want my friends to know that you dress like a slut for my cock, would we?”

you shake your head with a muffled moan, suckling the taste of yourself from gojo’s fingers and breathing heavily through your nose. “no, we wouldn’t. that’s right. good girl, oh shit.”

satoru laughs, a little cocky and a little drawn out in a long, whiny whimper over the wet slap of the backs of your thighs in the front of his own. but he trembles from behind you, like his legs are about to give out every time your creamy cunt sucks a little more of him in. it’s a miracle he’s managed to hold you both up.

guilt wracks your body intertwining with the red blood cells coursing through your veins and carrying limited oxygen to your brain — your head practically empty at how your little brother ruins you on half of his fat cock. this isn’t right, this is completely wrong and yet you feel yourself coming undone — weak in the knees and shaky in your lips, the dam in your lower tummy threatening to burst at any second and flood the room in an erotic river of your arousal. 

pushing your head off of the counter, you lean into satoru, throwing your ass back onto him in rhythm with the harshness of his thrusts. everything is hotter, heavier and you can’t even think about how much of a bad step-sister you are when he’s dominating your body like this. the silky locks of satoru’s silvering hair press against your shoulder and he wraps a fist in the fabric of your shirt to pull you further back onto his cock. 

“‘m gonna c-cum, oh god!” you squeal, flinching as your juices crudely slap against the kitchen floor. “i’m so close!”

he pants into your ear like a desperate dog, fully wrapping himself around you and trapping you against the counter so that you have nowhere to go except towards your high. “yeah?” gojo breathes heatedly, temperate breath cascading over the back of your neck and only adding fuel to your fire of desire. “i can tell, you get like this. all needy ‘n cute when you’re about to cum.” 

his words have you clenching around his bulbous tip every time it pushes up against the pleasure spots you didn’t even know you had — your arousal catching in the pretty blue veins that spiral around the length of gojo’s shaft. “you don’t think i can’t hear you, big sis? late at night when you think everyone’s sleepin’….” his whistle tone moans are quickly replaced by deep growls and grunts that only just manage to escape from between the gritted rows of your step brother’s pearly whites. “when you stuff those tiny fingers into that tight little hole and—“

he reaches down between your mess of slick soaked limbs to land a harsh smack against your quivering pussy, sending the foamy ring of white where your bodies join flying about the place. “—and make yourself cum to the thought of me?” he continues, breathing ragged and laughing at you again when you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure. 

“s-satoru!”

he soothes you with quick circles over your swollen clit and kisses to your shoulder — being careful not to leave marks. “oh did that hurt, baby? am i  the mean one now?” licking a stripe up the side of your face and tasting the sweat on your glistening skin, satoru rambles on — filling you up with praises and copious amounts of precum. “you know i—fuck— you know i love you. my precious big sister, so fucking good to me. let’s make you cum, yeah?” 

you’re allowed to rut back on him for a little longer, since he loves the sound of his name whirling around messily on your tongue, all high-pitched and sugar coated for him. if only you knew how badly he’d wanted you, how pissed he was when his father went on to marry your mother. gojo has wanted you since the very first night you met — his every waking thought has been carefully carved to lust after you, think of your eyes, your smile, your lips. fuck, everything about you has satoru under some kind of spell. 

“r-right there. right there, t-there!” you chant the words like they’re the a prayer, as if they’re the only ones you know, allowing satoru to throw you through the loop of pleasure until you’re too far gone to stay on the ride. 

angling his slender hips upwards, his cockhead bares down on the gummy centre of your g-spot just has he buries himself inside of you — right up to the hilt. “h-here? this where you want me, big sis?” gojo’s amused gasp turns into a coo when you let out a meek hum of agreement, babling wild nonsense and drooling into the counter you’re pressed against. “mmhm, got you creamin’ around me already. so cute, so good when you listen. when you’re a good t’me, oneesan.” 

the honorific alone has your mouth running dry as if it’s been stuffed with cotton. though the syrupy pap, pap, pap of your sex says otherwise. it tells the truth of your sin.

and the thing that you don’t know about satoru is that he loves to give, feeding pieces of himself to you as he fucks you wild in the middle of your family kitchen. he wants you to have all of him, every corner and inch of his body just like he dreamed about. he knows it’s forbidden and that it’s wrong, but he can’t help but relish in the feeling of your pretty pussy sucking him in so selfishly, greedily clamping down on his thick base. 

he would give you anything. anything you wanted and asked for if you’d let him. his hands slip from your waist to intertwine with yours splayed out on the cool marble surface, using his last spurts of energy to drag you towards your orgasm and the deep depths of sinner’s paradise. 

“fuck me, fuck me, baby.” he growls possessively against the shell of your ear. “let go for me. lemme see how much you love your little brother—“

the crescendo of your pleasure is at an all time high, about to come crashing down on you like a tonne of heavy bricks. 

that is until the door bell rings, accompanied by the sound of geto’s voice from the outside of the house. “yoo, satoru! open up!” 

you’d think that you’d have been good enough for your little step-brother to keep going — to push onwards and let you cream all over him before he went to attend to his silly little friends. but he flips the script, pulling out of you just as you teeter over the edge to ruin your orgasm.

“no, no, please!” you sniffle, teary eyed with dissatisfaction sitting in your lower belly — the need to cum still there but the feeling of emptiness within your dripping walls taking over. “satoru…” you whine.

when you look behind you, he’s too busy finishing himself off — his black shirt between his teeth, sweats hanging low on his waist while gojo palms  his hard and heavy cock as he pleases. 

it’s coated in your arousal, shining under the artificial lighting in the kitchen and you watch with a pout as gojo jacks himself off to the view of your ruined cunt. he thumbs the seedy slit at the centre of his bright red tip, hissing through the sensitivity. he’s a picture perfect vision, appearing as an angel before your very eyes. a mop of halo white hair flop backwards with satoru’s head, rich sapphire eyes locked behind fluttering lashes that glisten with pearls of pleasure filled tears. 

you know not to be mistaken, you know that satoru is more like an incubus than the heavenly being he presents as. the parts of your brain with better judgement see him as the sinner who made you fall from grace, committing such a heinous act. the desperate side of you with a brain full of lust and smoke screens sees your step-brother as a god who controls all of your desires. 

you think you prefer that side of you more. 

meanwhile, a drop of sweat runs a track down the length of satoru’s neck, catching on the curve of his Adam’s apple as he swallows down his euphoric laments. you find yourself jealous that his own fingers are wrapped around his sloppy dick instead of drawing shapes against your aching clit. you envy how good it must feel for satoru when he finally cums. ropes of thick white sling around his knuckles, much paler in contrast to his pearlescent skin tone.

a deep, gravelly moan erupts from his hot mouth like lava, accompanied by curses and the stuttered syllables you recognise to be your name while he finishes himself off. gojo jerks his sensitive cock over your ass to paint you with the last spurts of his release. it’s a claim on you as your step-brother, a way in which he can show you that he always gets his way no matter what.

whilst still recovering, your step-brother drags a slender finger through the puddle of cum he’s left on you, and drags it down to your stretched little hole before pushing it against your overstimulated clit. “hmm, so pretty.” gojo grins, slow and sly, when you twitch and attempt to jolt away from him. then unexpectedly, he lands a hard smack against your bum — revelling in your sweet cry of pleasure, impatience and pain. “go put somethin’ on, will ya, sis? my friends are still waiting outside.” 

“i…i hate you.” you whimper shakily, brain frazzled from the situation. 

satoru might be a spoiled brat, but he’s not mean enough to leave you here a shaky, dripping mess so he helps you to your feet — tenderly fixing the hem of your shirt and panties back into place (failing to wipe his cum off of you beforehand). you’re still pouting from your ruined orgasm once he’s done, and he nudges the underside of your chin with a singular knuckle. 

“don’t worry big sis, i’ll come take care of you later. maybe i’ll even let geto watch since you love prancing around half naked for him too.” he teases, squishing your cheeks as you try to swat at him. “and you don’t hate me, you love me and this cock. clearly.” gojo sings and sends a cheeky wink in your before prancing away to open the door for his friends. 

he pulls his pants up as he goes, not minding the wet patch you’ve left on him. 

whereas, you scurry up to your room before they can greet you and gojo tells them that you’re feeling unwell. 

that day, you learn two valuable lessons: 

one —  never mess with a spoiled brat, it’ll never end well for you and gojo will always get what he wants no matter who pays the bills. 

two — geto really does like to jerk off to you, even more so when he watches his best friend punishes his older step-sister with enough orgasms to make her forget why she was in trouble with satoru in the first place.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[aurorawritestoescape]

JOEL’S VISIT | Bad Blood Extra | 3,8k

Summary: Joel pays you a visit and makes your night unforgettable.

Tw: +18, mdni, smut, step-cest, big age gap (reader is 22, Joel is in his late 40s), step uncle!Joel is a warning in himself, stepdad Tommy makes an appearance (kinda), fingering, ass play, anal, sex toy, spit as lube, pussy slapping, cum eating, creampie, degradation kink, praise kink, alcohol consumption, swearing.

A/n: written as a naughty bday present for my love @milla-frenchy 🥳 happy birthday, baby!😘🩷 ILY! Hope you’ll enjoy my little gift❤️ and Joel’s huge gift🍆🍑😏

Pics are only for the mood. Reader has no specific physical description. Reader wears a skirt. Dividers by @strangergraphics-archive

Series Masterlist || MASTERLIST || Milla’s MASTERLIST

You step into your favorite bar in your college town and search for him. You notice the familiar broad shoulders far away from the crowd and saunter there, on the way turning heads of the other patrons but you don’t care about them. As if by a magnet you’re being pulled to the man, who’s sipping whiskey in a dark corner booth. Joel Miller.

You hate to admit it but you really missed the fucker. Missed his rough hands, his dirty words, his assholish attitude. No one else can make your blood boil like that but the hate you often feel towards him morphs into passion so fast that you wonder if your relationship is meant to be. As toxic as they are, you've never felt such a strong pull towards anyone. Except your stepdad Tommy of course.

Right now Joel’s in the dog house. You’re still fuming over his intention to fuck someone with the hard on YOU gave him. So you don’t sit next to him and instead settle in front of the man at the booth.

Joel looks up from his drink and a smirk tugs at his lips, shining with drops of whiskey.

“Hey, uncle Joel,” you greet him with a reserved smile. He’s wearing a denim vest with a white tank top underneath and his huge arms make your heart skip a beat. Why does he always look so delicious?

“Hello, angel.”

His eyes slide down to your lips and then cleavage, with your tits almost spilling out of your top by design. He adjusts himself before asking,

“Doncha wanna give your favourite uncle a kiss?”

“Not really,” you reply as your eyes are boring into him.

He huffs a laugh and rubs his scruffy cheek.

“Being a cold bitch doesn’t suit you, baby. I prefer you needy and with my cock between your pretty lips.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, but your mouth waters at his words.

“It’s a health issue, Joel. I don’t wanna catch anything after you fucked every hole in Austin.”

Joel’s brows rise up and he leans forward, planting his elbows on the table. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you ogle his arms and shoulders.

“Oh, little slut’s jealous.”

You cross your arms making your breasts almost jump out of your top and lie,

“No, I‘m not.”

He narrows his eyes at you and takes a sip of his whiskey before talking again.

“Here’s a thing, angel. You can keep Tommy’s balls in a cute box under your bed. I don’t care. But ya definitely not getting mine.”

You scoff and he leans back against the seat.

“So let’s make it clear— I fuck whoever I want whenever I want.”

You clench your jaws as anger and jealousy squeeze your throat.

For some time you two sit in silence, the air between you electrified and heavy.

Finally Joel gets up with a grunt and you look up at him scared that he might leave, abandon you, but to your relief he comes up to your seat and plops down next to you. He turns to you slightly and puts his huge arm on the backrest behind you. He’s so close that it feels like a hug. His scent immediately envelops you and you gush as if on command.

“Look at me,” Joel gruffs but you keep staring ahead of yourself.

“Look. At. Me.”

The steel in his rumbling voice makes you throb and you turn your face to him, hiding your true emotions, your expression angry and cold.

“I’ve had a shitty day, angel. Don’t make it worse.”

He sounds serious and you furrow your brows with worry.

“What happened?”

Joel grabs his drink and finishes it. He wipes his lips with the back of his hand and talks to the empty glass.

”Paid Jess a visit today. Tommy left some stuff at your… her house.”

“Why didn’t he go himself?” you ask, feeling a pang of sadness that Tommy didn’t tell you anything.

Joel laughs.

“I don’t think he wants to meet your dear mother. He fucked her daughter on their marital bed. She ain’t exactly waiting for him there with open arms.”

“And you? I’m sure she wasn’t happy to see you either.”

“I don’t give a fuck. The bitch can curse me out all she wants. Tommy’s just too good of a guy. Feels bad.”

“Whatever,” you grumble.

Your gaze drops and you sit quietly, deep in your thoughts. Does Tommy feel bad about what happened? If so does he regret your relationship? Does he regret you?

“Hey,” Joel calls and you immediately look up at him, noticing a trace of softness in his voice. “Tommy asked me to give you something.”

“What?”

Joel turns to you more, his thigh presses against yours, and he brings his hand to your jaw. He pinches your chin and slowly leans down.

You slightly open your mouth, welcoming him, and he kisses you. In a second he’s licking into your mouth with passion, claiming you in front of everyone, and you melt, tasting whiskey and cigarettes on his hot tongue. He grabs the back of your head and devours your mouth, swallowing your needy whimpers as his other hand settles on your bare thigh, close to your naked pussy under the short skirt. He squeezes your leg and, feeling how much he wants you, you gush more. Your soft moans are drowned in a sea of chatter and music at the bar. It takes just a few seconds of this, of him, to make your pussy uncomfortably wet. Your core is crying for more and you open your legs wider, signaling him to touch you.

Joel’s plush lips part from yours as he mumbles,

“Here’s my needy slut.”

You reply with a flirty smile and press your body closer to his.

“Take me to a motel. Want you to fuck me like one of your cheap hookers.”

You drag your nose up his neck and Joel groans, roughly kneading your thigh.

“My sweet niece needs to get railed, uh? Dontcha have some fuck boy on standby at your dorm?

“I don’t cheat on daddy,” you whisper against his neck.

“Oh?”

”It’s ok if it’s you. It’s different.”

Joel huffs and then his expression gets serious.

”I can’t do motel today, baby. Need to get going.”

“Already?” you whine, pouting your lips.

“Yeah. Have work tomorrow. And if I get you all to myself in a room I won’t be able to stop fucking ya for at least a week.”

You smile and playfully bite the skin of his neck, before purring, “Sounds good.”

Your pussy is tingling for him and you desperately need to alleviate the ache.

“Please, Joel,” you sit straight and plead, batting your lashes at him. “I miss your big cock so much.”

Joel's wolfish grin makes your clit throb with the beat of your heart. Your tactics seem to work because he adjusts his big bulge and groans,

“My truck. Now.”

You can’t get up fast enough and then hurry to the exit, feeling Joel’s eyes on your swaying ass.

The parking lot is dark, illuminated only by one street light, and almost empty except for a few cars. Joel motions to his truck and you shiver when you walk there but not because of the cold. The culprit is an anticipation of his hands on your body, his cock deep inside you.

Before getting in you stop with your back to your step uncle.

”Wanna show you something.”

You bend over slightly and then lift your skirt. He sees your bare ass and you hear a whistle.

“Juicy.” He grabs your asscheeks but you swat his hands away.

“No, Joel. Wait.“

You push your ass out and spread your cheeks so he could see a pink jeweled butt plug, shaped like a heart.

“Fuck, angel, this for me? Been training your ass to take my big dick?

“Yeah. I thought you might miss it.”

You sigh when he presses his whole frame to yours. His big hands start kneading your naked cheeks and he licks the side of your neck and sucks a hickey into your delicate skin.

“Tommy asked me to leave this as a message for everyone.”

“What’s the message?” You breathe out, grinding your butt against Joel’s bulge.

“This pussy‘s taken. You’re ours.”

You moan, reveling in the possessiveness of the brothers and the sensation of Joel’s heavy body, pressing you against the truck, and you’re slowly but surely drenching your inner thighs. Soon the need overtakes any pride you have left.

“Fuck me, Joel. Fuck my ass. Please.”

“Sure, angel,” he growls, taking a step back, and pulls you off the truck. ”Inside. On your back.”

You do as you’re told, drunk with desire and excitement, and lie down on the faux leather seat at the back of the car. Joel settles between your thighs and throws your left ankle on his shoulder, opening you up for him.

“You often fuck here?” you ask, noticing how fast he found a comfortable position.

He replies with a smirk, “No, only on special occasions.”

You shoot him a playful wink.

“Aww. I’m flattered.”

“Ya should be. I’ll probably spend ages cleaning everything off your slick, little slut.”

“Fuck you,” you giggle and spread your thighs wider, as he grabs your hips and lifts them a little.

The hem of your skirt slides to your waist and Joel leers at your exposed pussy. In the almost dark car his eyes are glinting like those of a predator in a night forest. Your breath hitches as you marvel at his handsome features, accentuated by the dim yellow glow from the outside.

Joel seems to be mesmerized by you too.

“Here she is. Wet little pussy.”

He covers your cunt with his big hand and you shiver when his warm palm squeezes your cold folds.

A gasp crawls up your throat as Joel begins playing with your slippery cunt, drawing soft moans from you—he slides his fingers over your lips, massages your mound, lightly grazes your eager clit and when he lowers his hand and brushes the pink heart of your butt plug, you buck your hips, calling for him to take you.

His light ministrations feel so good you might cry but they are not enough to satiate your thirst so you yank the neckline of your top down and start kneading your naked breasts.

“Fuck, angel, never met anyone this horny and cock hungry.”

You don’t reply, fully lost in the sensations, but Joel demands your attention by flicking your clit and you cry out as a jolt of pain mixed with pleasure shoots through your body.

“Joelllll,” you whine but then a hazy smile blooms on your face and your step uncle notices it.

“How could I forget that my little niece likes a lil bit of pain with her pleasure? Dirty fucking girl.”

You smirk and Joel continues,

“I see you clenching your holes, baby. That pretty plug of yours nearly jumped out of your asshole. Let’s make it dance.”

Suddenly he slaps your pussy with an open palm and you whine,

“Fuck, Joel.” Your body jerks and all your muscles contract. His hot palm lands on your blooming cunt again and again, the strokes light but precise and sharp. Your soft moans fill the truck, sometimes interrupted by Joel’s encouragement.

“Doing good, angel— ya know ya deserve it—look at ya asshole sucking in the plug— your pussy’s winking at me—can ya come like that, baby?”

Through the lustful fog in your head, you barely register what he wants from you but when you do, your fingers start twitching your nipples, pushing yourself closer to the edge.

Slap—slap—slap, Joel spanks your slicked puffy folds and when his wet hand hits your clit just right, you cry out. Your head dips into the seat, your back arches as you come undone from Joel’s rough caress and he praises,

“Yeah, like that, angel. Good fucking slut.”

It takes you some time to stop trembling and when your limbs and body relax, you find Joel’s obsidian eyes drinking in every sign of your ecstasy.

“That was…Wow. Never came from spanking before.”

“‘s weird considering what a bratty bitch you can be. I’d think every second lover wants to slap your cunt.”

You smirk and flutter your eyes shut, still melting after experiencing such an incredible pleasure.

But they immediately snap open when you feel your butt plug move. You see Joel’s eyes glued to your puckered hole, held open by the jeweled toy.

“Joel?” Your voice is strained by the overwhelming sensation of the plug shifting its position inside you and you lift yourself on your elbows to see what he’s doing.

“I really missed your tight hole, angel. Very. Much.”

Joel empathizes each word by moving the plug in and out of your asshole. It glides smoothly, covered with lube and now your slick. You bite your lip, and whimper at the sight and feeling of your tight hole, stretching around the shiny head of the plug and then clamping around its base.

“Damn,” Joel mumbles to himself, as his fingers leave the plug and he begins unbuckling his belt. “Your asshole‘s drenched by your needy pussy. Might do without lube.”

“Yeah, Joel, fuck me raw. ‘s ok if it burns a little.”

“Shit, angel. Naughty slut. Look what ya doing to me.”

Joel unzips his jeans and tugs them down and your eyes are graced with the sight of his huge hard cock. The tip looks like a fat shiny lollipop and you almost drool seeing it bob over your naked cunt.

“Let’s replace the toy with something better, baby”.

Joel’s hand confidently wraps around the base of his stiff manhood while the other pulls on the plug. Your asshole clenches around it tightly, not letting it go, but Joel slowly slides it out and your ring closes.

Your chest is heaving with a mixture of excitement and nerves as Joel slides his cock between your soaked folds, wetting it, and then nudges your asshole with his leaking tip. He pushes in and you take a deep breath to relax but your hole is too tight.

“C’mon, little slut, relax for me.”

”Yeah,” you nod obediently and lie back down, looking up and trying to relax your muscles.

”‘s like that, open up for me, angel. You’ve taken me before.”

“Yeah, but … when I took your huge dick Tommy was there. He knows how to make me relax.”

You find Joel’s obsidian eyes, and then look down at his lips. The man scoffs.

“I ain’t gonna smooch ya forehead, baby. And ‘good girl’ for sure ain’t about you, little slut. So let’s try something else.”

Suddenly you feel Joel’s cock bump into your hardened clit. You whimper, hazy eyes locked with Joel’s, and he drops his head and starts drawing circles over your sensitive bud with his slippery tip.

“Ya like when I do this?”

”Yeah.”

“Good, breathe, baby. Unclench for me. Uncle wants to ruin your tight ass.”

He’s swirling your clit for some time and when the sensation of him, massaging your pussy, brings you close to the second climax, he slides his cock down to your crack and pushes into your tight ring.

With a gasp you feel your asshole give in as he inserts his mushroom head inside your ass, slowly but assertively. Your nails dig into the faux leather of the seat while Joel groans and closes his eyes and you watch his handsome weathered face twist in pleasure.

“Fuckkk,“ he growls and your heart sings, seeing him enjoy your body that much. Not minding the dull pain and the feeling of fullness, you whisper,

“Deeper, Joel. Want your whole cock in my ass.”

He opens his eyes and smirks at you,

“‘Course, angel. Gonna use you so good, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

His promise should probably make you nervous but lust has completely taken over your body and mind so you bend your legs and press them to your sides, submitting your body to him like an offering.

Joel’s huge hands grab your asscheeks, he spreads them and holds you open before rolling his hips, pushing his cock deeper into you.

He’s grunting and groaning while you’re breathing in and out steadily, opening up for him more and more. Letting him claim the deepest part of you.

Soon Joel bottoms out with a satisfied sigh and stops his movement.

“Look at that, angel. My dick’s fully inside ya ass.” His eyes are focused on the place where he’s sheathed inside you. ”Fuck, I’m so happy Tommy married your mother. It brought me here.”

He chuckles and drops his head back in pleasure and you lift on your elbows to see the way you are joined and watch your asshole flex around the base of his cock.

“Yeah, glad we met, Joel. Now can you please move?” You whine, desperately needing more. Joel doesn’t make you wait- he grabs your hips tighter and slowly pulls his cock out almost to the tip and then slams it back inside as you moan and grab onto the seat.

He starts off slow, rhythmically moving his stiffness inside your ass, then pulls out his glistening shaft half way out of you, spits on it, and plunges back in your canal. You moan as the wetness adds to the pleasure, coursing through your body, and soon your sweet sounds and Joel’s groans fill the inside of the truck.

You whine your step uncle’s name and your hand slithers down to your cunt.

“What is it, little slut? Aw, your needy pussy’s lonely,huh?”Joel mocks, through gritted teeth, and you gloat inside thinking that he must have a real hard time trying not to burst inside you.

But you decide to be a good girl for him so you bite your lip, pull your eyebrows together and nod.

“You’re cute, let’s fill your sloppy hole too then.”

Joel leans down and brings his index and middle fingers to your mouth.

“Make ‘em all nice and wet, angel.”

You smile and take his thick digits between your lips and lick them, glide your tongue over his skin, coating it in your saliva.

When Joel decides it’s enough, he pulls them out and straightens, slowing down his thrusts.

With his cock deep in your ass, he pushes two of his fingers into your crying pussy and you both watch both of your holes being spread wide around Joel.

“Fuck, I’m so full. Your fingers are like another cock inside me.”

“Ya welcome,” he mumbles and starts fucking both of your entrances— your ass with his cock, your pussy with his hand.

If you were enjoying yourself before now you’re in heaven.

“Yes, Joel, don’t stop,” you moan and the man growls in response. His thick and long cock in your ass takes so much room that your pussy channel feels tighter, his fingers stimulate you so much better, that in no time your walls start contracting around his fingers. Squelching sounds of your weeping cunt makes Joel fuck into your holes faster and soon you unravel under his ministrations, crying out his name and arching your back off the seat. You’re trembling all over, cock dumb, pleasure drunk, biting your puffy lips and leaving scratches on the seat.

When you relax and melt under the man, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, and slowly thrusting into your ass, lets you clean them up.

”Lick it off, angel, be a good girl.”

You lazily taste yourself and then he covers your body with his, pressing you into the seat, his hips flush with your asscheeks.

“Gonna come soon, baby. Gimme some sugar.”

With that he kisses you passionately and begins hammering into your ass, reaching the deepest spot inside you, feverishly chasing his climax.

Seizing this moment of unity with him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hold him tight, while your tongues are moving against each other. You’re gladly letting him take everything from you and soon his muscles tense under your touch and he makes a few hard thrusts and then moans into your mouth and begins spurting ropes of hot cum inside you. He’s filling you up to the brim, his throbbing cock moving in and out of your tight canal, pushing his cum deeper into your stretched ass.

You’re nuzzling his cheek, tasting his skin with your tongue, and the overwhelming feelings in your chest make you forget your complicated relationship with the man stuffing you so well and you purr his name into his ear, softly, gently, pouring so much into these four letters. Joel locks eyes with you, while his cock still twitches inside you from time to time.

His gaze is relaxed, soft and satisfied, rid of the usual sharpness, mockery, guard.

Your throat squeezes and your breath hitches when you realize that you’re staring at someone else, someone deep inside Joel you know and before he disappears, hides behind the wall, you kiss him gently, hug him close, and he gives you all of that back.

A few minutes later Joel’s tucking his cock back into his jeans, groaning about your slick and scratches all over the seat. The asshole is back.

“Maybe ya wanna lick off your mess, angel?”

“Fuck off,” you snap, fixing your clothes, and then get into the front of the truck and carefully sit down on the passenger seat. Your ass is sore and plugged up again with Joel’s cum inside. ”A warm farewell gift for ya,” he laughed.

“Going raw was a mistake,” you complain with a hiss and watch him get behind the wheel with a lit cigarette between his lips.

“Take me to the dorm,” you command and Joel glares at you without moving.

“Please, uncle Joel,” you bat your lashes with exaggeration and he starts the car.

You immediately take out your phone and call Tommy.

“Hey, baby.”

“Daddy! Guess who just fucked my ass!” You chirp with excitement into the speaker.

You hear Tommy chuckling, Joel curses and smiles at you.

“I need the details, baby.”

You give Joel a wink and start talking.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

SERIES MASTERLIST I MASTERLIST | Milla’s MASTERLIST

Tag list for the series: @milla-frenchy @iamasaddie @koshkaj-blog @survivingandenduring @nana90azevedo @mermaidgirl30 @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @obscurexsorrows @tammythr @ratoonstown @anama-cara @pedge-page @huskyfox5 @ashleyfilm @neverwheremoonchild @stevie75 @untamedheart81 @puduvallee @theoraekenslover @eloquent-dreamer @ashhlsstuff @evolnoomym @pinkiec6-rubi @guelyury

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk

[cherriesformatt]

vlog day || matt sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: you said yes to being in the vlog while spending time with ur best friends and your boyfriend.

warnings: none

word count: 1,1k

a/n: have a good day ily

“Are you filming already?” I asked sitting at the table and putting stuff in my purse.

I was cleaning it because I couldn’t find my favorite lipstick anywhere.

“Yes, you said it’s okay if we film the vlog with you right?” Nick asked me and I nodded.

“Yes, yes look guys!” I looked at the camera and brought a gift bag closer to me.

“So I said few days back that I wasn’t feeling that good lately like you know mentally because I had a lot of work and stress. I came in here this morning and this was on the table with my name on it” I showed the bag.

“Look what Chris and Nick got me” I laughed showing the camera the coffee cup with triplets photos on it.

“We know you love coffee so… you know you can look every morning at people who brings you joy in your life” Nick laughed behind the camera.

“Yes and you know what’s the funniest part? They only put one photo of Matt” I said and stood up when I saw Chris coming up with the new Dr Pepper.

“It’s finally here people let’s try it” he said.

“He is constantly talking about it let’s just get over it” I whispered to the camera.

“I found your lipstick honey… oh your filming already?” Matt came from his room.

“Aww Matt you’re not beating lover boy allegations ever again” Chris laughed at him but Matt only rolled his eyes and gave me the lipstick.

“Thank you Matt” I smiled and wanted to peck his lips but I didn’t.

I didn’t want to push that I was already in the vlog. But I was exited and I said yes because us four actually didn’t spent time together for a long time now. So I was excited for some fun with my boyfriend and his brothers.

“Ladies first….”Chris gave me the can.

“Okay because if I die it’s on you…” I say and I took a sip.

It wasn’t bad but also it wasn’t my favorite.

“Meh… it’s okay but I think you and Nick will like it” I gave it back to Chris.

He made his brothers try and they had a talk about it while I went to put my converse on.

When we got into the car I sat in the back with Nick so Chris could be in front of the camera.

“So we don’t know where we’re going yet” Chris said to the camera and we all looked at it surprised it’s on.

“What? I thought we can decide on camera…” he said.

“Let’s go to Melrose I want Happy Ice” Nick said and I clapped my hands.

“Yes! Happy Ice and pizza I’m in” I said and buckled my sit belt.

We were driving with Chris talking all the time and Matt crying about every dog we pass.

“When you explain something is impossible to know what you’re talking about… it’s like I spy game with 5 years old” I told Chris.

“Well I wanted to edge on…”He started.

“Oh you want us to edge you a little? Okay…”Matt said and I gasped.

“Matthew….”I hit his arm playfully.

“Don’t even start y/n” he said and looked at me in the mirror and I winked at him.

“Anyways… how much longer? I need to peepee” I said looking at maps.

“Oh my god you’re worst than Chris sometimes babe” Matt said.

I looked at him and laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“Guys.. that’s what y/n always does. 20 minutes before we left she said she needs to pee but instead going to the bathroom she did like 100 other things and she forgot to go and its like that every time we go out” Matt said.

“Woow sir what is this? Telling each other icks or what?” Nick asked looking at us.

“I would say about her hair in the bathroom everywhere” Matt added.

“Fair enough… I would say about your hair in the sink after you shave and we would be even” I laughed.

“And I would say your underwear under my couch when you guys forget you don’t live alone” Nick said and I covered my mouth with my hand.

“Shut up it was once” I said.

“Nah like three times” Chris said and I covered my whole face with my hands.

“We not putting this in the video and stop making her uncomfortable” Matt laughed.

“We were uncomfortable!” Nick yelled.

“Okay done with my sex life let’s talk about the weather or about how ugly is this persons outfit” I said when we stopped on red.

“Omg but look they are so cute having photo shoot together” Nick said and I smiled.

“Awww look how he’s holding her stuff for her” I said.

When we got to the pizza place I ordered for us and looked at the boys filming in the corner.

“Matt please don’t do that it actually sends shivers down my spine “I told him looking at him opening the water bottle with his teeth.

“Here I need to go to the bathroom” I gave him order numer and went into the toilet.

We ate in the car talking shit about people and than we got to the happy ice and I was holding the camera.

“Guys if he won’t take cherry for me I’m going to break up with him. I told him he needs to guess what I want” I whispered to the camera.

“Here I bought cherry flavored for you?” He came up to me with the desert and I smiled.

“Ah still need that anniversary gift then” I said to the camera when Matt took it from me and looked at me confused but I only smiled at him.

We walked around while we ate and then we came back to the car. While we were driving I saw a very handsome guy and me an Nick made a funny face in the same time looking after him.

“This guy was so hot!!” Nick yelled and I gave him high 5.

“ I knew you’re going to say that!” Chris said.

“y/n I’m not talking to you anymore” Matt said and I made a sad face.

“You love me Matty he was like 4 you are a 10” I said and he smiled.

“So technically you think I’m a 10?” Chris asked.

“Well yes but then you open your mouth” I said and everyone laughed.

When we came home I took my shoes off and sat down on the couch when boys finished up the video.

“Okay we’re done… that was fun thanks for coming with us and filming” nick said and he sat down next to me.

“I had fun too! I hope everyone is not going to kill me for being in the video” I said.

“They’re going to love you” he said and I smiled.

“Movie night?” Matt asked from the kitchen.

“Movie night!” I said happily.

He smiled and me and I hugged a pillow close to me. I was so relaxed after spending day with them. Nick was right. They were my favorite humans in the whole world.

[forever-rogue]

hi, angel! i saw that you were open for requests and i was hoping i could shoot my shot 🥹 i’m such a sucker for the idiots-to-lovers / ditzy!reader trope lmaooo so could i pretty please request one for eddie where he’s just so down bad for the reader but she just brushes off any kind of affection from him, not because she doesn’t like him back but because she just doesn’t think anybody would ever like her like that (totally not self-projecting woops) lol sorry if it’s too specific or something! totally okay if you don’t end up writing this ❤️ ily!!!

AN | Well, well, well, if it isn’t ditzy!reader and blind Eddie. These two are just so 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Soft. 

Your skin was so soft that it was causing Eddie’s mind to practically explode. He’d noticed it before but there was something so extra about it today. 

“Umm,” he heard your soft laugh and slowly came back to reality, “you can let go of me now Eddie.”

“Oh,” he shook his head to himself and let go of your waist, taking a step back and clearing his throat, “s-sorry. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” you gave him a pretty smile, bright and sweet, “I wasn’t watching where I was going and I tripped over my feet. I hate when I do that. I need to pay more attention but sometimes it’s hard.”

“I’ll be there to catch you,” he promised softly as you beamed at him. You put your hand on his shoulder and leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. Eddie opened and closed his mouth a few times, “uhh…I-I-”

“There’s Steve and Robin,” your attention quickly went to your friends as they pulled up to the park. You reached for Eddie’s hand and pulled him along with you, “c’mon!”

There was something about the feeling of your smaller hand holding onto his that made his stomach flip. He quickly followed after you, a dopey smile on his face. As soon as  Steve saw the two of you, there was a knowing smile on his face. Eddie pointedly glared at the boy, knowing exactly what he was thinking. Steve had been pushing Eddie to ask you for as long as he could remember but Eddie always said no. He could never understand why; the two of you were thick as thieves and it was obvious to almost everyone else that the two of you were much more than just friends. 

“Hey guys,” Steve drawled softly as he opened the back door for you to slide in next to Robin, “the two of you were looking awfully cozy.”

Eddie’s face turned a pretty shade of pink as he buckled his seatbelt. You laughed softly before shaking your head, “I tripped and Eddie caught me. He definitely saved me from banging up my face.”

“Can’t have you hurting that pretty face,” he agreed; Eddie wished he could melt into the seat. You exchanged a look with Robin and she rolled her eyes, causing you to huff with laughter under your breath, “alright, who’s ready for adventure?”

“Me,” Eddie said pointedly, willing Steve to start driving, “let’s go.”

“Say no more,” the two men fell into silence as you and Robin were excitedly twittering about in the back of the car. Steve caught Eddie’s eye in the rearview and offered him a small smile he hoped Eddie would know was a thing of solidarity. Eddie’s lips pulled into a thin line as he offered his friend a small nod. 

You were absolutely going to be the death of him. 

Unless he actually did something about it. But that seemed like a hurdle he wasn’t quite ready to take on.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie startled as he heard loud knocking at his door; it was so urgent and sudden that he heard it over the sound of the rain and the guitar he was softly strumming. He grumbled before setting the instrument down and making his way to the door. It was a rainy mid-week afternoon, so he had no clue who would have come round this time of day.

“Hello?” Eddie opened the door slowly, but was immediately thrown into a warm hug by you. He stumbled backward for a moment before hugging you back, feeling at peace just by having your presence there, “what’re you doing here, sweetheart?”

“It’s raining,” you pulled back from him and it was then that Eddie noticed you were wearing a rain slicker but your hair and face were wet. You brushed some of the water away from your face as you grinned at him, “oh. Sorry, I didn’t mean to get you so wet.”

“Yes…it is,” he nodded slowly, his hands settling on your shoulder, “do you want to come in? I can grab some warm clothes and we can-”

“No,” you reached for his hand and held it tightly in yours, “you gotta come with me! To go to the pond!”

“What’s at the pond that is so important?” he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of you out in the rain and getting wet.

“Everything,” you took his hand and started to pull out of the door of the trailer, “all the creatures are out, and it sounds so cool when the rain hits the pond! C’mon, let’s go and see.”

“Are you sure?” he was loathe to deny you anything. He actually thought you were adorable with how excited you were to take him to the pond. You were already nodding and looked at him with wide eyes. Eddie shook his head in amusement before reaching for his jacket and quickly slipping it on along with his boots, “alright then, show me this magic.”

“You’re the best Eddie,” you slipped your fingers in between his and tugged him along with you. You lived near Eddie and the pond was in between your places. It was a spot the two of you spent a lot of time at when it was nice out in the spring and summer. 

He tried to keep his cool at the way you casually offered him your hand, a token sign of affection. But internally he was freaking out at the feel of your much smaller hand in his. He gave yours a squeeze, not caring that the two of you were getting absolutely drenched. He could always dry off later - making memories was far more important.

You stopped in front of the pond, watching excitedly as the rain fell onto the water, loud and steady but also so calming. There were frogs singing and other critters that were out and gathering around the pond. The excitement on your face was palpable as you took in the scene. It made Eddie happy too; to see the natural flow of life and how it made you feel.

“It’s so pretty here,” you reached and plucked a small yellow flower from the ground, looking at it for a moment before holding it out to Eddie, “for you - a flower for my flower.”

Eddie’s stomach churned as he swallowed the lump in his throat. He reached for it and gently took it from your hand before tucking it behind his ear, “t-thank you.”

Your response came in the form of a big smile as reached for his hand to bring him closer, “thank you for sharing this with me. Coming here. You’re the best Eddie.”

He felt a rush of affection for you, even more than he already did. He squeezed your hand gently, “thank you for sharing this with me.”

“Anytime,” you gave him a smile, “there’s no one else I’d rather be here with.”

And that his heart almost burst into his chest.

He loved you. He decided then that he would tell you….one day.

Soon. Soon. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Oh! I’ve got a date tomorrow night,” you threw your declaration so nonchalantly as you and Eddie walked out of the movie theater. Eddie felt like a wave of icy ocean water hit him as you walked towards his van. He really hoped that he didn’t hear you correctly. When you noticed his silence you turned to him with concern etched on your features, “Eddie? What’s wrong?”

“What did you say?” he asked as you leaned against the side of the van. The look on his face was not what you had expected; he looked almost angry, but underneath it all was a look of hurt.

“I just said that I have a date tomorrow night,” you shrugged it off, trying to ignore the prickling feeling running down your spine, “that’s all. Nothing important.”

He huffed, unable to control his reaction. Sure, you’d been on dates here and there but it was never anything that had seemed important. But now he wasn’t so sure, “cool, cool, cool. I’m sure you’ll have lots of fun.” 

Eddie started to move around to the driver’s side but you quickly reached for him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, “Eddie? What’s wrong? Why are you acting like…this?”

His shoulders rose and fell softly as he shook his head. You dropped his wrist, feeling your eyes immediately prickle with tears, “you don’t get it, do you?”

“I don’t…understand,” your eyes were wide as you tried to figure out what he was saying, “what do you mean, Eddie?”

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration before groaning slightly, “I’m in love with you.”

That was definitely not what you’d been expecting to hear at all. A million different thoughts raced through your mind as your heart jumped around in your chest, “Eddie?”

“I’ve been in love with you for so long,” he whispered, unable to look at your eyes, “I just…I’ve never been able to say it before. But the idea of you going out on a date with someone else, someone not me, makes me feel so….sad. I don’t want you to go out with anyone else.”

“I-I don’t….” you paused, waiving your hand around, trying to make sense of it all. But then it hit you - holy shit. He’d just confessed his love for you, “you love me?”

“Yeah,” he let out a nervous laugh as his cheeks felt like they were on fire, “I do. I have for a long time.”

“Oh,” you chewed on your lip. You would have never thought that was possible, “I didn’t know. I thought you didn’t like me. Not like that.”

“How could you ever think that I wouldn’t like you?” he came a little closer to you, “I thought it was so obvious. I just thought you didn’t feel the same way.”

And then you laughed. You couldn’t help it as you looked at him with pure awe in your eyes. Eddie swallowed thickly as he hoped that you weren’t just laughing at him, “that’s so funny. ‘Cause I definitely thought it was obvious that I liked you too. I just thought you’d never be interested in me.”

And then it hit Eddie all at once. The two of you were idiots and had been blind. 

He grinned at you, a matching smile on your face as reality sunk in. 

He reached for your face, his hands gentle on your skin as he studied. He’d done this many times before but something about it in that moment felt so much different. Heavier and more important. You leaned into his touch, turning your face to press a kiss to his palm. He studied you for a few more moments before leaning in closer, leaving only a small distance between your bodies.

You could see the questioning look in his eye and nodded softly, leaning in and closing the remaining gap. The feel of his lips on yours was nothing like you’d expected - it was even better than you could have ever imagined. 

It felt like the most right thing in the world; like the two of you had been doing this for so long. Like you had always been meant to be doing it. You two only separated when you were desperate for a breath of air.

You touched your lips, almost as if trying to make sure that you had actually kissed Eddie. 

“Umm,” you were nervous, rocking back and forth on your heels as you beamed at him, “that was….something.”

“It was definitely something,” he agreed with a cheeky grin that made you laugh softly, “I think we should try that again…just to make sure it really was something.”

“Oh yeah,” you pretended to muse over what he had said before touching his face, “I agree…we should definitely make sure. For science.”

“For science,” he agreed softly before kissing you again, “I’ve been wanting to say I love you for so long and now I can finally say it.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” you stole a few more kisses from his pretty, plumped lips, “I like saying it too. And hearing it. Can you say it again? Please?”

“I love you,” he said, almost like a promise…you supposed it was, “and I really like kissing you. Everything…all of it.”

“I love you,” you whispered in turn, “everything and all of you.”

[httpdwaekki]

tummy | s.c.

wc: 2.7k

summary: binnie is feeling a bit insecure about he tummy, but you’re there to tell him how much you love it.

warnings: smut 18+ (MDNI), chubbyfem!reader, tummy praise !!!, petnames, hand job (m. rec), unprotected sex (use protection!!), crying, def more, read at ur own risk!!

a/n: happy binnie day!!! happy birthday to my favorite boy <33 and of course i had to do a lil something for his tummy :3 this is week two or binnie month w @straykeedz !! special thank you to @thefantasyden for doing a quick proofread for me <33. i hope you enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

자기야 = honey.

my library | bee’s vers | bee | binnie month | fundraiser

(photos not mine! credit to owners!)

you love binnie’s tummy, you never let him forget it, and you touch it every chance you get.

but you had noticed a slight change in him. he was wearing less compression shirts and would tense up whenever you’d even brush his tummy. you knew what was happening, you knew the feeling all too well.

you made it your mission to make sure he knew how much you loved his tummy. and you finally got your chance.

you walk into your bedroom to find him laying on your bed, fresh out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist. the water droplets still drying on his tan skin - his soft tummy on full display. he had his legs hanging off the front of your bed, scrolling through his phone, oblivious to your presence.

you make your way over to where he was, grabbing his attention as you climb onto the bed. he moves his phone, focusing on you as you move to lay on his tummy. you feel him tense for a moment, before he relaxes, putting his phone down next to him, giving you a soft smile.

“hi 자기야.” he whispers, placing one hand on your cheek, the other laying the cover the rest of his tummy. you feel a pang in your chest as you glance at his hand, covering his tan skin.

“hi bub.” you whisper back, placing a hand on top of the one that’s on your cheek. you look at each other for a moment before you turn your head, placing kisses across his soft tummy, feeling him tense once more

your hand still holding his, thumb brushing his fingers in a soothing motion- you sit up on your knees next to him, taking his free hand in yours.

you lean down, placing more kisses, looking up at him through your lashes as you place your lips across his plush tummy. you pull away, moving yourself to straddle him, placing his hands to your soft thighs.

you lean down to become eye level with him, place your hands on his cheeks. his eyes are wide, filled with confusion, the slightest glint of unshed tears.

“you know you’re gorgeous right?” you ask searching his eyes for any refusal. “and that i love your tummy so much, it’s one of my favorite parts of you.” the tears now prominent on his lash line, he shakes his head slighty. your heart breaks a little, you feel a familiar sting behind your eyes.

“you know how you always tell me how much you love every part of me, especially my tummy because you know i’m eating good and healthy.” he nods his head as a tear slips down his face. you quickly wipe the tear, continuing the soothing motion.

“i feel the same way about you. you’re the reason i can look at my tummy and not feel completely disgusted with myself. because i see a piece of you in myself when i look in the mirror. and i could never feel that way about you.” you feel a tear slip down your cheek, ignoring it, focusing on the man in front of you.

you lean back, quickly ridding yourself of your shirt, exposing your chubby tummy to him. leaving you in only your pink panties, feeling vulnerable under his gaze. you place his hands on either side of your waist, before continuing, “is this ugly or disgusting to you?” you ask quietly, slightly scared of the answer but you knew he needed this.

he shakes his head quickly, more tears shedding in wake of the movement. “then why is it any different from this?” you place your hands on his soft tummy.

you lean down, placing more kisses to the area, rubbing gentle circles to his sides as you do. his hands fall to your thighs once again, drawing circles on each one.

you kiss your way up his sternum, giving his pecs a few stare kisses as well before each nipple. he inhales a sharp breath as you kiss the sensitive buds.

you kiss all the way up his neck, across his jawline, each cheek before coming face to face with him. “i love you no matter what you look like,” you pause looking into his eyes, “as long as you’re happy and healthy, i don’t care if you have abs or a chubby tummy. as long as you are alive and well i will love you and your body no matter what, okay?”

his eyes are bloodshot but full of love as they look into yours. he sniffles, nodding his head before you lean down, giving him a passionate kiss. you bring one hand up to his cheek, the other staying on his tummy.

his hand moves to your cheek, pulling you impossibly closer. after a couple minutes, you pull away resting your forehead against his, both of you catching your breath.

“i love you so much.” he whispers, his chest raising and falling as he breathes. you smile pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “can i show you how much i love you?” you ask quietly against his skin.

he nods softly, pulling you back to his lips once more. you slowly make your way back down his body, leaving kisses as you make your way down, sparing a few extra to his tummy. you carefully kneel in front of the bed as he sits up.

you undo his towel, revealing his semi hard length, his pink tip leaking slightly. you give his thighs soft kiss each, causing him to tense, inhaling sharply, looking down at you.

you kiss your way up his thigh before grabbing his cock, give his tip a kiss. you move up, placing a kiss to his lips. “relax pretty boy,” you whisper against his lips, your thumb brushing his tip, causing him to stutter. “i got you, 자기야.” he groans into your mouth, kissing you before pulling away.

“you’re gonna be the death of me.” he sighs, leaning back on his hands. you giggle, placing kisses on body as you stroke his dick, making sure to pay extra attention to the glistening tip.

“god i love your tummy,” you say quietly into the soft flesh, picking up your movements, tightening your hand slightly.

“ah- fuck.” he hisses, throwing his head back, a hand coming up to cover his face. you grab his hand on his face, lacing his finger through yours, placing the intertwined hands on his thigh.

you feel his tummy tighten under your lips, signaling him coming closer to his release. you kiss your way up his body once, making it up to his ear, nibbling on the lobe.

“i know you close baby boy,” you kiss behind his ear, “let go.” you place a kiss to his jaw, giving extra attention to his tip, sending him tumbling into his release.

he squeezes your hand, turning his head into you as he groans, his cum spurts all over his soft tummy and your hands. you stroke him through his orgasm, his breathing heavy as he comes down from his high.

you pull away, looking at the mess he created, wasting no time bringing your hand down up to lick the salty substance off your fingers. you keep eye contact as you pull the digits out of your mouth.

“god i fucking love you.” he grabs your cheeks pulling your lips back to his. you grab the edge of the large towel, wiping his tummy before he grabs your hips, manhandling you onto his lap. you let out a noise of surprise into his mouth and as he grips your waist.

your arms wrap around his shoulder as he pulls your legs to wrap around his waist, pulling back slightly. “hold on sweet girl.” he warns but barely gives you time to react before he stands up.

he tosses the towel to the side, before laying you on the mattress. he places a kiss to the white bow on your panties, moving up to your soft tummy. mirroring exactly what you did to him, placing soft kisses over your tummy, trailing them up your sternum, placing a kiss to each peaked bud.

his arms move to cage you in, kissing up your neck and jaw, coming face to face to you. you smile, your hands coming up to lay on his biceps, turning your head to give one a kiss. “hi 자기야.” he whispers, loving eyes, flicker across your whole face.

“hi pretty boy.” you whisper back, bringing your hand up to lay against his chubby cheek. your thumb brushes his soft lips as he places a kiss to your kiss, pulling a giggle from you.

“as much as i love you worshiping my body, i thought it’s your turn this time big boy.” you lean up, placing a kiss on his soft lips. you tap his bicep, “come on.” you say against his lips.

he sighs before flipping over, laying flat on his back next to you. you sit up on your knees patting his thigh, “scoot up bub.” he complies, moving to lay against the pillows.

once he settled you moved to straddle him, your clothed core pressing against his bare semi hard cock. you lean down, hands finding his plush tummy once more as your lips find his.

you rock your hips, as your lips move against his, feeling him harden beneath your soaked panties. he has one hand positioned on your thigh, the other on your cheek, keeping you close to him.

he moaned into the kiss, kneading the soft flesh of your thigh. you pull away, sliding your thumbs into the waistband of your pink garment. you move your leg to get up but he quickly brings a hand up to stop it.

you pause looking at him, silently asking him what was wrong. “sorry-“ he gently pulls your leg back to the bed, bringing his hands to your hips. “can you just- lean back for me for a second baby.”

you listen, leaning back, placing your hands between his legs for balance. your legs spread a bit at the action, revealing the darkened spot on your panties to him.

he brings his hand up to rest on your pelvis, thumb rubbing slow circles on your clothes clit. “ah.” you sigh at the slight stimulation, your breathing picking up. he slowly picks up the pace, “look you, my sweet girl, treating me so well.” he sits up, causing you to fall back a little further.

he places kisses in the little bow on your waistband before sparing a kiss to your tummy. “my baby deserves something too, no?” his circles becoming faster and tighter, just like the coil in your belly.

“ah- bin-nie” you stutter, the more the coil tightens. you’re breathing is heavy, your hips have amind of their own, grinding against the signle digit.

“come on, bunny, give it to me, give it to binnie.” his words causing the coil to snap instantly.

“ah- fuck!” you whine, bringing a hand up to your tit, squeezing the soft flesh, brushing your senstive nipples in the process. “binnie- ah.” you moan as he continues the stimulation through your high.

once you come down he takes in the now bigger darkened patch. he places a kiss to the soaked fabric before tapping your leg, helping you pull off the material.

once you relax again, back in your previous position, leaning on your elbows this time. he uses one hand to spread your lips, giving your bundle a flick or two, your legs spasm at the action.

you sit back up, meeting him face to face, pushing him back down on the bed, “this is still about you, you know?” you ask, rolling your hips, causing your wet core to slide against his hard cock.

“you ready?” you whisper, looking into his eyes. he nods leaning up to give your lips a peck. you reached down, pumping his length a few times before rubbing his angry, leaking tip between your wet folds.

“ah fuck bunny.” he hisses, his hands finding your thighs once more, gripping the flesh. you whine as you slowly sink down on his thick length, thankful for your arousal allowing for easier access.

once you’re fully seated on his cock you lay onto his chest for a moment, enjoying the closeness and getting used to the stretch. he brings his arm to wrap around you, placing a kissing to the side of your head before you lift it.

“hi pretty boy.” you say softly, smile spreading across your face. “hi pretty girl.” he replies just as softly, smile gracing his lips.

you place you hands firming on his chest, bouncing slightly, your mouth falling open at the sensation. “fuck.” you whisper, dropping your head in pure bliss.

his cock stretching you so deliciously, the postion making it so he hits that one gummy spot that makes your toes curl. changbin wasn’t doing much better, one hand on your knee, the other squeezing your tit, pinching your nipples.

“ah! fuck i’m so full.” you groan, feeling filled to the brim and loving every second.

his hand drops to your bundle of nerves, pulling a high pitched moan from you. you slide your hands down to his soft tummy, loving the way it feels under your touch.

“fuck look at you,” you look at him as you bounce. “my big boy making me feel so good, like no else ever could.” you caress the soft skin, feeling him tense under your touch as your own release approaches.

“fuck i love you so much.” he groans, before thrusting up into your, making you lost your balance and fall into his chest. “i love you too.” you moan.

“rub your pretty little clit for me baby.” you comply, to fucked out to think about anything but changbin and your release.

you bring your hand down between your bodies, finding the senstive nub, rubbing quick circles. you clench at the added stimulation, pulling a groan from the man below you.

“god it’s like you’re made for me.” you nod, tears feeling your eyes because of the pleasure and love you have for him. he wraps his arms around you, rubbing your back as you ride him.

“made for binnie.” you babble, your circles getting sloppier, boucy becoming hard as your legs give out.

he takes notice of this, wrapping his arms tighter before quickly thrusting into you, pulling a silent scream from you. your eyes roll to the back of your head as changbin pounds into you, chasing both your releases.

“ah! fuck i love you, you fill me up so good, mine.” you babble, pure ecstasy floods your veins.

“i can feel it 자기야, let go for me, show me how much you love me.” the coil snaps once more, you’re not even sure you’re rubbing your clit, your fingers just brushing it with every thrust.

he follows soon after, your release was enough to send him other the edge. “ah- fuck .” he moans in your ear as he cums. he fucks you through both your orgasms before he stills, keeping you on him.

after a few moments you finally places your hands on his chest, gaining some sort of leverage to look at him. you whine as you feel him shift inside of you as you move.

you place a hand to his flushed cheek, rubbing it softly. “i love you soso much, no matter what you look like, that will never change.” you kiss him passionately, wrapping your arms around him as best you could.

you both wince at the movement, both of you feeling senstive. “i love you too my beautiful girl.” he kisses the side of your face wrapping his arms around you.

after a moment or too he taps you butt (to watch it jiggle) to signal you to get up. you slowly make your way off him, his soft length slipping out of you with ease, his cum sure to follow.

once you both pee, get changed and change the sheets, you cuddle up in bed, laying on his naked chest, pressing kisses every few seconds.

“i love you, bin, not matter what you look like okay? you’re mine forever.” you mumble into his pec, placing a kiss over his heart as if to seal it.

“i wouldn’t want it any other way.” you whispers , placing a kiss to your temple at you both drift off in each other’s arms.

do not repost

(comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3)

[onlyswan]

summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

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