#im starting to feel embarrassed about this now though so who knows

[4arconinoma]

And on the topic I just have to rant about Bruno's characterization in this fandom. Listen uusually i dont give a fuck about mischaracterization for the simple fact that I am so used to it and it will happen inevitably. So i dont let it bother me But there are some examples in which its so egregious, that it feels like people watched a different show or something...

After rewatching Vento Aureo it just blows my mind how the fandom got to this, weird, "mommy bruno" thing this state for his character that is hardly even present in canon. Its strange because when I was younger and i first watched it I kind of subscribed to it too, i think just by seeing people act that way it cemented itself in my mind as fact But rewatching it now, its so obvious that its just MISSING his entire character, and so many little details and aspects of it that the show makes quite Clear!

Its not just the fact that he is so young. But that bothers me too I wish people acknowledged that hes barely an adult. People act like hes 30 or something HE'S TWENTY he's BARELY AN ADULT okay and I Know he acts older than he really is and maybe that's why people mix it up, maybe people haven't seen his age on the wiki, but don't they state it in the show ?!?! Either way, the thing is that's Literally a canon element of his character, he DOES act older than he is because he HAS to he HAD to grow up so much earlier than everyone else he has to act more responsible than even the 22 year old on the team because that guy just cant step up like he does And hes had no other reliable figure to guide him ever since he was young it was only Him and he had to become entirely independent at what fucking 12 years old.

Right and wouldn't it just be really cool if people actually took that into consideration? That he's so young he's tired that maybe he's JUST as scared as everyone else on the team and he feels lost and confused too but he just CAN'T let that show because he's the ONE person who is keeping the team glued together? And Giorno yes he stepped into his place — Which is its own sort of tragedy to me, that the 15 year old had to follow in Bruno's same steps of growing up too soon because no one else could manage things like he does and he has only himself to depend on now while running the Entire Italian Mafia — but either way it's just the way this attitude of his is brushed off as Mommy bruno mama bear hes such a mom 🥺🥺🥺 Is almost insulting? And i wont even get into the gender role aspect of that, some people have discussed that before too, that in contrast with Abbacchio who is the "father" (nevermind that he can barely even take care of Himself, and is cold to his entire team, not a great example of a father is it) is mischaracterized too for the sake of woobifying Bruno! Also hate this as a Bruabba enjoyer but thats another discussion entirely

And the last thing that puzzles me is just, that he doesn't even act close to being motherly in canon. Maybe save for the Trish thing, and the thing with Narancia's backstory, which is indeed him caring for younger people But due to what i stated previously, he HAS to and Id bet he feels compelled to. I wont deny that he is kind and he doesnt want kids to lead a life like his, because that's literally a part of his character that they show. But I think people are forgetting that he fucking beat up a 15 year old immediately after meeting him, then didn't even invite him to his gang: GIORNO did that HIMSELF, Literally went "you Will let me join your gang. I will join it' now." and bruno was like Okay. And the thing from my previous post, is that they literally canonically show that Bruno does act detached to his gang, not... not the other way around. See why this characterization misses so much. He doesn't have TIME to build any particular bonds with his gang Yes he is kind to them of course he is But like the scene of Abbacchio's death where he orders everyone to just go on because they don't have time for this even though he's just as distraught, or Trish feeling frustrated that he acts so cold, he puts some sort of wall between him and the gang even if it's subtle. Narancia even says he knows this about Bruno, that he knows him because of his past with him he noticed that Bruno PUSHES people away because he doesn't want them to go down the same path he did, not because he is their "mommy" it's because his life is fucking MISERABLE and he is a kind person so he doesn't want that for others, especially not younger people because HE was in that same spot too so YEAH okay he cares about kids WHO WOULDN'T What kind person would want to let a child down his lifestyle... This displays his kindness and virtue as a leader, not his. """"Motherly instincts"""".

Okay. I don't know, I just wish the fandom left room for this sort of nuance to his character. I have never seen anyone bring this up. It's always people just making up this completely different Bruno than the canon one, I understand why people confuse this. I used to as well, when I was young and many people in this fandom are, but fuck, it would just be nice if people took this aspect of him into account, because I think it's interesting! Its so much more interesting than going Aww Mommy Bruno he loves his kids (ugh) and completely ignoring the rest of his character! Just... a thought !!!!! Or several !

[skrunksthatwunk]

household enemy to the yyh watchthrough number one is the olympics. it's taken us a week to get two episodes into the gamemaster fight

[4rafe]

rafe cameron

setting down the perfect shade of a baby pink louis vuitton backpack onto rafes messy bed. he had got you a full set of louis vuitton luggage for your birthday just a couple of weeks ago, personalized it with such a beautiful pink and your name embroidered on.

opening your bag, mindlessly going through the couple of pairs of brandy melville pajama sets you packed with you and choosing which one you wanted to wear more. choosing between one and the other was so complicated but when all else fails, you can always rely on the opinion from a man with the name, rafe cameron!

you picked up both sets, making sure the cute design showed perfectly with a huge giggly smile on your face. the sounds of your feet hitting the wood floor as you were walking up to him to ask the big question, "rafey, which one" you smiled big, only your eyes peeking over the pj sets as you held them up for his decision. even though you gave him two options, there was one you 'picked out' in specific. insisting he answer 'correctly' with the tone in your voice.

he turned around to look at you when you called his name following with a question. his eyebrows furrowed from the petty little design that covered the sets of your clothing. raising his pointer finger to choose which set even as the words came out of his mouth, "that one, bunny." he answered as his phone dinged and he pulled it out of his pocket to answer.

you squealed to yourself with a big happy smile on your face, you were ecstatic that he choose the one you wanted him to even though you knew either one would have been just.. fine. you thought to yourself about your silliness to ask whenever you knew what you wanted to wear but it was much better having rafey pick for you.

when he choose, you stood up on your tippy toes as far as you could to reach rafes cheek as he held his phone up to his ear on the other side, giving him a sloppy kiss for his decision before having to come back down as you couldn't stand on them for very long. being in a talking stage with a man who stood at 6'1" came with its many different challenges, romantic ones included but, in all ends, you really liked it.

making your way back to rafes bed where your backpack still laid you heard him mumble something to you. hearing his mumbles made you turn back around, looking at him, "hm?" you questioned. notifying to rafe that you don't know what he had asked of you the first time but now he had your attention.

rafe brought his hand up to chin, rubbing slowly as if he was in a trance of thought, "why do you bring that backpack with you every time you stay, princess?" he had asked of you. you turned around to face him, placing the backpack onto the ground after all decisions were made. "its my spend-the-night bag!" you smiled big at him and giggled in response.

"what the hell is a spend-the-night bag, that's fuckin stupid." he said to you and your smile dropped instantly which was so weird because you knew how rafe was, mean. but he never really meant it "mean" towards you it still doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

he saw as your smile dropped, knowing his words hurt you tremendously. he waved his hand at you, telling you to come to him. he took a seat on the bench that was placed in his room, as you walked towards him. as you stood in front of him, he wrapped his fingers around your thigh, pulling you forward as he guided your legs around his. as you sat down on his lap you let down your head, feeling embarrassed that he saw his words effect you so much. he brought his hand up to your chin, feeling his cold golden rings on your skin, lifting it up so you were looking at his eyes and he started to explain to you,

"bunny.. all im saying is, everyone in this shitty town knows you're mine. there's no need to keep bringing your stuff back and forth. just move all your stuff in with me." hearing his sweet words made a big smile appear on your face again which made rafey smile as well. he made you so happy, it was silly, you were head over heels for him and you wanted everyone to know it.

later that week, you were all moved in. so so in love.

[scorpieuns]

KISS ME MORE | PARK SUNGHOON

summary: freshman year is just around the corner, and you still haven’t had your first kiss, so who better to ask for help than your best friend?

word count: 3.2k

MINORS DNI!!

warnings (18+): smut. fluff (just a smidge). kissing. swearing. oral (f. receiving). fingering (f. recieving).

A/N: this was literally just an excuse to write the ‘teach me’ trope im currently obsessed with lmfao. decided to return with another short fic while a longer one is currently in the works!

Your saturday was lazily drawing to a close, the amber light of the late afternoon bathing your room in a rich, golden hue as it filtered through the sheer curtains. Sunbeams danced across the floor, casting long, dappled shadows that shifted gently in time with the breeze from your fan, its low hum blending with the quiet outside. The heat of the day still lingered, but your room felt cool—a refuge from the summer heat beyond the window.

You and Sunghoon spent another day in the slow, unhurried rhythm of summer break. You had wandered through quaint little shops in town, indulging in some ice cream from your favourite parlour—before ending the day by hanging back at your place.

Soft, flickering light from the television illuminated the room, casting faint shadows over the cozy disarray of blankets and pillows on your bed.

The movie playing was one of your favourites—a classic romance that you knew almost every line to. Your gaze was fixed on the screen, eyes wide and captivated, but Sunghoon seemed content to only half-watch. His attention was mostly absorbed in a book he had got from one the thrift shops you’d visited a while ago, his glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he read quietly.

Sunghoon lay sprawled beside you, completely at ease, the quiet shuffling of his turning pages blending in with the murmur of the movie’s dialogue as the two of you comfortably sat in silence.

Every now and then, Sunghoon would glance up from his book, watching you for a moment with a fond, almost amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He silently chuckled at how deeply you were invested in the story, even though he knew you had seen it more times than you could count.

As the movie played on, the flickering shots of the couple lost in passionate kisses filled the screen, but your mind was elsewhere. Each romantic scene tugged at a part of you, stirring feelings of uncertainty that you tried to brush away.

The effortless intimacy the characters exchanged seemed so foreign and so far removed from your own experiences. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you shifted slightly on the bed, that weird feeling in your chest only returning.

Fall was approaching, and the thought of starting college without ever having kissed had been gnawing at you. You were always the one admired from a distance—some guys flirted but that was all they did. The real experiences, the ones you saw in movies and tv shows still remained an elusive mystery.

It felt like you were missing some crucial part of your youth, something that was supposed to happen naturally, yet it hadn’t.

In the locker room, when your friends would share their stories about their latest flings or kisses, you’d smile, laugh along, but inside you’d cringe, hoping no one asked about your own love life. It was your secret, the thing that made you feel out of place despite how perfect you seemed to everyone else.

Then, there was Sunghoon.

You glanced at him, your best friend, lying beside you with a cute focused expression etched into his features. He didn’t talk much about his romantic escapades, but you’d heard enough to know he wasn’t inexperienced.

Sometimes you’d catch a glimpse of faint hickeys on his neck or the way girls would glance at him. It left you with a strange feeling, one you couldn’t quite name…was it jealousy? Insecurity? Maybe both. You felt your face heat up, embarrassed by how much it bothered you.

As another kiss scene plays out on the screen, your gaze flickers back to the couple. You bit your lip, the pang of longing growing sharper. What did it feel like? To be kissed—or to have someone look at you like you were their whole world, if only for a second?

The thought of entering college without knowing something so simple yet so intimate made you feel…painfully awkward.

You tried to focus on the movie, but the thoughts kept circling back, louder and louder. The movie no longer held your interest, and the weight of your unspoken feelings became too much.

Unable to shake the feeling, you sat up as your mind ran on impulsivity. The movie played on, but you no longer cared about the plot or the characters. All you could think about was the current problem you had and the one person who would listen to you.

You shifted on the bed, turning to him. “Sunghoon." you murmured, your voice softer than usual.

He responded with a low, distracted hum, barely lifting his gaze. One hand rested on his chin, finger grazing his bottom lip in a way that drew attention to the curve of his mouth, while his eyes flicked over the pages with slow, deliberate focus.

"How does…kissing feel?"

That got his attention. Sunghoon’s eyes snapped up from the book, the words clearly catching him off guard. He pushed his glasses up with one hand, studying you with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “What are you on about now?”

You cringed at how juvenile your question sounded now, already hesitating, “I…” your face flushed with a mix of embarrassment, “I haven’t…kissed anyone before. And with college coming up, I just feel…I don’t know…insecure.”

Sunghoon’s brow furrowed in genuine confusion. “Wait, you’ve never kissed anyone?”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, Mr. Midfielder. I’m not like you, alright? It’s not like I’ve had tons of people drooling over me.”

A soft laugh escaped him as he sat up, expression softening. “No (Y/N), it’s just hard to believe.” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re… like, insanely pretty.”

Sunghoon’s words sent a little flutter in your stomach—but you brushed it off, chalking it up to him just being nice.

“Of course, you would say that,” you muttered, playfully shoving his shoulder.

“I’m serious,” Sunghoon insisted lightly, catching your wrist, gently lowering your hand. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.

There was something in the way he looked at you making your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You tore your gaze away, suddenly feeling exposed under the weight of his attention. “This is stupid,” you mumbled with a wry laugh, already regretting bringing it up.

But Sunghoon wasn’t letting it go. He muttered your name softly, his voice coaxing you to meet his eyes again. He reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up until your gaze locked with his once more.

His touch was soft, barely there, but it made your cheeks warm. “It’s not stupid,” he murmured, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to be new to things. Everyone is at some point.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you muttered, staring at the comforter as if the intricate embroidery held the answers to everything swirling in your head.

Sunghoon watched you intently, his heart aching at the sight of your lips forming a soft pout and your expression so full of uncertainty. How was it possible that you had never been kissed?

He couldn't understand it, and yet, the thought of you being with someone else, experiencing that first kiss with someone who didn’t know you like he did—it twisted something in his chest.

Sunghoon would kiss you in a heartbeat if given the chance, but after ages of trying to ignore his feelings—of pushing aside how much he actually wanted you, he wasn’t sure he could handle it without letting everything else spill out.

His hand was still holding yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles over your skin, and for a moment, the touch seemed to blur the lines of just simple camaraderie. The warmth of it messed with your thoughts, and before you could second-guess yourself, the words tumbled out.

“Well, you’ve done it before, right? You could, I don’t know… teach me.”

“What?” Sunghoon froze, his breath catching in his throat, his eyes wide with surprise. His voice dropped an octave,“you’re asking me to… kiss you?”

You nodded, scooting just a little closer, close enough to feel the faint warmth of his body against yours. “Come on, Hoon. We’re best friends. It’s not like it would… mean anything.”

Even as you said it, you couldn’t really believe the words yourself. There was an undercurrent, a dull gut feeling, that told you it wouldn’t feel like practice.

To you, maybe. The thought tore through Sunghoon’s mind.

He ran a hand through his hair, messing up his bangs as he tried to think. For the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely flustered, “I don’t know, (Y/N).”

His voice was thick as he swallowed, cheeks slowly turning pink. “That’s not exactly something you just… teach.”

“It’s just a kiss. I just wanna know what I’m doing when I eventually have to kiss someone for real.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flickered, his eyes betraying more than he wanted to show. For a split second, his eyes darted to your glossed lips, his breath hitching as he quickly looked away.

He pushed his glasses up again, licking his lips as he huffed. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

“Why?” You asked, the plea in your voice betraying your own feelings. “It’s just one kiss, Hoon.”

Right?

You tried to keep it light, casual, like it didn’t matter. Like it was just a small favour between friends. But inside, your heart hammered against your chest, your skin felt flushed, and the air between you both had clearly shifted.

The way Sunghoon was looking at you now, though, like he was really considering it—like he was seeing you in a way he’d never let himself see before—it was almost too much.

“Are you… sure?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loud would shatter the moment.

Your fingers brushed against his knee, lingering for just a second longer, “I mean, it would just be practice.” You stated, but underneath it all, your heart skipped a beat, a buzz coursing through your veins as you looked back at him.

Sunghoon’s resolve crumbled at the feeling of your hand on his knee. How could he say no to you when you looked at him like that—those wide, pleading eyes making it impossible to refuse?

He swallowed hard, his breath shaky. “Just… a practice thing,” he muttered, his eyes flickering between your gaze and your lips, fighting the gravitational pull on them.

“Yeah,” You muttered quietly, reaching up to remove the wire rimmed glasses from his face and placing them on your bedside table before glancing back at him.

Sunghoon’s hand moved up, threading through your hair before gently brushing it away from your face, his touch slow, deliberate.

His thumb traced the edge of your cheek, pausing to brush against your bottom lip in a way that sent a shiver through you. The touch was soft, almost hesitant, but it ignited something deep inside you, making your breath hitch.

Your stomach fluttered as you met his intense gaze, his dark eyes trained on your lips. He leaned in closer, close enough that you could feel his breath fanning lightly over your skin, teasing, heightening the anticipation.

Sunghoon’s lips hovered over yours, just barely ghosting against them, brushing so softly that it made you ache for more.

Unable to resist the pull any longer, you closed the distance, pressing your lips gently against his. The kiss started soft, tentative, your body hyper-aware of every detail—the warmth of his breath, the way his lips responded immediately, moulding into yours with an eagerness that surprised you.

Oh.

You pulled away for the briefest moment, eyes flickering down to his lips, your heart pounding through your ears. Without a second thought, you leaned in again, this time a lot bolder, your hand finding the side of his face.

Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He kissed back within a heartbeat, a soft sigh escaping his lips that sent a rush of warmth to the pit of your stomach. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you against his chest, the space between you vanishing as your bodies pressed together.

Your fingers slipped into his hair, the soft strands curling around your fingertips as you tugged on them softly, his soft groans between kisses making your pulse race.

Sunghoon’s lips were firmer this time, more needier with every kiss, sending a rush of heat through your body as his grip on your waist tightened.

You softly fell back into the bed as he hovered over you, his tongue tracing your bottom lip before you parted your lips a little more, a low groan rumbling through his chest as he licked into your mouth.

Your hands slowly drifted down Sunghoon’s body, slipping beneath the thin fabric of his shirt to trace the contours of his torso, his breathy moans travelling straight to your core.

“Fuck.” He rasped, pulling away, “maybe we should stop.” Sunghoon’s eyes were glazed over, lips were swollen and tainted with your lip gloss, “I don’t think I’ll be able to control myself (Y/N).”

“Then don’t.” You rushed, breathless and wasting no time kissing him again, an unmistakable moan leaving Sunghoon’s chest as he kissed back desperately.

He pulled away—already missing the feeling of his lips on yours before they moved to your jaw, trailing soft sloppy kisses that travelled down to your neck, the feathery feeling creating a dull ache between your thighs.

Your sighs of pleasure almost bordered on moans as he gently sucked your delicate skin—pink and purple marks blooming on your skin, recklessly marking you from your neck to your collarbone.

Sunghoon’s hand drifted over the small of your back, sliding over to find their place on your ass squeezing the soft flesh with a lewd groan—an involuntary moan slipping past your lips at the feeling, tugging his hair.

Everything had your mind spiralling. Sunghoon’s lips were on your neck, his hand roaming every inch of your body.

You’d be lying if you said you didn't want more—craved more.

He trailed wet kisses along your chest, lifting your shirt to press a few more along your stomach, revelling in the way you leaned into his touch, your soft whines and sighs driving him up the wall.

You admired the way Sunghoon looked when he glanced up at you with his eyes, weaving your fingers through his already dishevelled hair, moving to his face and caressing his rosy cheeks.

Sunghoon’s fingers finally met the waistband of your shorts, lifting your hips up as quickly pulling the layer of clothing away, “fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He hissed, running his hands up and down your thighs.

His other hand brushed over your underwear, groaning at the sight. His finger traced over your wetness on the silky fabric, and you leaned into his touch, with the most beautiful moan he’d ever heard.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet.” Sunghoon groans as his thumb taps at your clothed clit, clenching around nothing at the mention of the pet name he’d just given you.

He kissed your thigh, hooking his finger into your underwear and sliding the damp pink fabric down your legs, almost moaning at the sight of your dripping cunt.

Sunghoon lifts your leg and holds it over his shoulder, swiping his tongue over his thumb before meeting your clit and your head falls back, “Hoon, fuck.” You moaned, grabbing at your sheets.

“Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” Sunghoon says softly, and you nod—watching him dip below your thighs, lips move to your clit and sucking on it gently.

You never fathomed anything would feel this good. Sure, you’d touched yourself a couple of times, but nothing could beat the feeling being eaten out.

You cry, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his tongue dipping into your folds, letting his thumb swirl around your bundle of nerves while his tongue enters your core, moaning into your entrance.

The vibrations from his moans sent shockwaves up your spine, head tipping back in from the sensation with a broken cry, legs attempting to fly shut but he pushed them apart with a sound of disapproval.

His tongue swiped upwards, and his eyes fluttered closed at the taste of your arousal, reveling in the insanely beautiful moans that tumbled from your lips.

Your hands weaved into his hair, tugging the soft strands as you shamelessly bucked into his mouth with broken whimpers.

Sunghooon held you firmly against the sheets to stop you from squirming, unable to stay still from the feeling of his nose causing friction on your clit as he lapped at your pussy.

Your eyes peer over at him and the pornographic sight of him buried between your thighs makes your cheeks burn. When his hand moves from your thigh you don't think much of it, until you feel his fingers circle your entrance.

Sunghoon pulls away from you, just in time to watch your plump lips fall open when he easily slides his fingers into your dripping core.

“You have know idea how good you look baby.” He panted, plump lips covered in your arousal biting his lip at sight in front him, completely enamored by your fucked out expressions.

Sunghoon’s fingers curl inside of you and they brush over your sweet spot, your mouth opening in a broken moan.

“F-feels so good, Hoon” you mewl breathlessly, grabbing his free arm as you bucked into his fingers, pumping them into you at a perfect speed.

You cheeks flushed furiously at the sounds of his fingers fucking your sopping wet core, broken raspy moans leaving your chest as his lips pressed kisses to your overstimulated clit—your mind a scrambled mess.

All you could think about was the pleasure that was currently surging throughout your entire body, making your toes curl and your head dizzy. A few whines and broken moans was enough to tell Sunghoon you were close, furiously clenching around his fingers as you begged him not to stop.

“That’s it baby, come for me.” He coaxed, his voice raspy and breathy, moaning at the sight of his fingers easily slipping in and out of you.

Your body jerked forward and your hand flew to his arm, blunt nails digging into his skin as you let out a whimper, back arching as his name tumbled past your lips in high pitched moans.

You were almost embarrassed by how fast Sunghoon made you come, mind clouded and hazy as he continued pumping his fingers, your walls clenching around his digits as he fucked out your high.

He pulled away shortly after, fingers slipping out of your entrance and placing a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

You watched the messy haired brunette suck his fingers into his mouth, eyes closed and moaning at the taste of you—before you leaned over, softly grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him to your mouth for a kiss, lightly tasting yourself on his tongue.

"So we both agree that this wasn't just practice, right?" He mutters against your lips and you laugh, still dazed and high from the aftermath of your orgasm.

"Yeah, I don't think I wanna do this with anyone else. You're my only option, Park." His smile grows and he pecks your lips again.

[ywuji]

Omg so like I want to hear your thoughts on perv!Megumi like finally after so long of Gojo teasing him for being in college for two years at this point and being single, he’s finally procured a pretty girlfriend who’s unfortunately (for her) so naive and sweet??🩷💕 Idk I got shy but I know you’ll do something good with this lol

ik i told u id post this after my wips but i started on it n i couldnt stop i liked the idea too much LOL im sorry for being so confusing D; tysm for the ask though!!! :o i rlly enjoyed writing this!!! (n don’t be shy ahjwhs you’re so lovely T_T♡)

perv!megumi !!! please i feel like he’s the type to be a pervert that’s kinda embarrassed n self aware about himself—especially bc gojo kept teasing him all those years n he was kinda just jacking off to whatever x-rated video that came up first (i feel like perv!megumi is highkey into hentai too but he’s taking that to the grave!!)

n when gets a pretty little girlfriend who acts so cute and who he loves so much, when he gets hard he can’t help but let some of that side of him slip out from time to time...

i think he’s also the type to take lots of pictures,, like pictures while you sleep, peeking through your door while you shower, in clothing store changing rooms while you change, upskirt pictures… he’ll make you his little model!! some of them you know about but some of them you don’t, he’s so lewd.

it’s not just pics of you he takes, it's some of himself too. i feel like one of the things he’d love to do to you is when you tell him to come with you to some random uni event, n he’ll randomly disappear in the middle of it, only to go to the bathroom to take pictures of his hard leaky cock to send you with some casual caption like he didn’t just do that ?!?! he’s crazy (more under the cut)

it’s not megumi’s fault he’s so in his head about you, he still just doesn’t really know how he managed to get someone as pretty and doting as you are as his. 

he sometimes feels guilty for being so obsessed with you—your body clad in pretty little outfits that you show off to him with a twirl, the way you’ll always show him your shiny new sparkly nails when you get them done, how he’s always the first one you’ll pick to talk to about something new you’ve found to love—it’s all that seems to be on his mind recently.

maybe it was gojo’s accidental doing, those feelings of guilt. unintentionally planting a little growing seed of shame in him the first few times he started teasing him for not having a partner yet at his ‘big age’, borderline lecturing him with the ‘when i was your age’ stuff—maybe that was the logical reason why he felt so attached to you, the reason he couldn’t help getting fully erect even when he only saw as much as a pair of your flung-away panties lying at the edge of your bed when coming to your room one day.

but when he recalls back to those nights where you’re innocently cuddled against him, watching whatever movie, a quiet ‘megumi?’ leaving your lips as a sign to tell him you’re falling asleep, and he finds himself shifting in his seat, carefully adjusting your head to let you rest comfortably on him, pressing a soft kiss to your hair as he strokes it and tells you a ‘sleep now, angel’, he knows that’s not the reason.

nevertheless, he’s always been worried about it, thoughts of ‘am i doing too much?’ or a ‘would she not like this?’ clouding his mind. but for every single thought like this he has, he’ll always have two more memories where he’s coming up to you, his sweet-faced little girlfriend, waiting for him with open arms and open heart. and to him, it means more than the world.

and as his cheerful sweetheart girlfriend, you’ve never really minded of course.

you know he’s at least a little perverted, asking to take those pictures of you trying on your new swimsuits, or bras, or skirts, or those times when he pulls out after spilling his load into you, and the first thing he does after making sure you’re okay is to go face-to-face with the trail of cum seeping out of you to snap a few photos.

honestly, you’ve gotten used to it at this point. you just take these moments, seeing what you do to him, as a way of reassuring yourself that he really does just love you that much. and he really does. really!! :(

no matter how innocent or dirty the context, he’ll let you know whenever he gets that warm little feeling in his chest.

“i-i love you,” he pants, head coming up from sucking marks on your neck, languid thrusts coming to a gentle stop as he peers up at you with flushed cheeks. it feels like he’s admitting it for the first time again.

when you stare at him with his same love-drunk look, brows furrowed and eyes pleading, whispering out an “i love you too, gumi”, he’ll pause a moment to study your expression before gently raising you further up the bed, hooking his hand under your leg and repositioning it around his waist.

he’ll drop down to press a kiss to your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder and picking up the pace again, now only determined to make you cum.

when he thinks of times like these, despite what you’re doing together, it’s innocent in his head.

a time where that’s not so much the case though is when you persuade him to come with you to some uni exhibition event, looking up at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes and as many ‘pleeeaaase, gumi’s and ‘please, guuuum’s as you could muster—cause it’s not like he could say no to that, right?

at first he put up an act of feign stubbornness. but eventually he agreed—only when he knew you’d excitedly hug him and press your soft chest to his as a thank you for it though.

he’d tour the hall with you, watching you gaze in awe at everything with your cute, simple curiosity, occasionally pointing out little things in the pieces he liked. before the artist began their talk though, he got up from his seat, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before muttering a “‘m g’na go to the bathroom.”

in an empty stall, he’ll sit atop the lid and pull down his jeans, freeing his stiffening cock from his underwear. he quietly groans as he pumps himself a few times, a slow trickle of translucent white leaking down from his tip.

he silently curses, throwing his head back, thinking about how you let him flip up your pretty skirt before you left, letting him take a peek at your cute ass in the frilly panties he bought for you.

he reaches for his phone, fumbling to send a picture of the sight to you, adding a casual caption of something like ‘hi pretty girl’ or ‘u look so pretty today, angel’.

he pauses, realising that maybe you won’t see it for a little while. he’s imagining you so obediently listening to the artist speaker to notice the ping of his notification—he enjoys that thought too, but he can’t say why.

he’s careful not to thrust up into his fist, not wanting to make too much noise, but it’s futile—he’s too hard staring at the lewd shots of you saved in his secret hidden album—the way you act so innocently, the way you have no clue what the true extent is of what you do to him. he can’t help but let a few breathy whines slip.

he won’t let himself cum though, thinking he’s too good to be letting himself release over some scrunched up, bathroom tissue when he’s got his own pretty little girlfriend waiting for him a few halls down.

he sighs. cleaning up and tucking himself back into the band of his briefs, leaving the stall and washing his hands, walking back out like nothing happened.

[2tarbell]

does twee have a job??? i know you mentioned her being pogue turned kook, im wondering if she’s kept a job she had as a pogue 🤭….

TWEE!READER who is a cart girl! she started the job right before her father came into money and wanted to keep it. mainly because she misses the pogue lifestyle and working makes her feel less guilty about now living in a nice house.

she receives a lot of tips because the players think she’s the cutest thing! rambunctious and teasing, having inside jokes with all the members. in her little cart girl uniform, tight polo and pleated skirt. her striped socks and maryjane’s. hair always done up in some cute style. she’s a natural born people pleaser and can happily stay afloat in the midst of these golf playing men. but only because she doesn’t entertain their foul intentions, too naive to assume anything bad.

but she actually met rafe after her shift ended, parking the cart back in its ‘home’ and gathering her things. he’s just leaving when he passes her by, having been in the carolina sun all day golfing with his boys. they’ve since left and he found himself lingering just a bit more, hoping to catch that cute cart girl he saw at the ninth hole.

he’s handsome, that’s the first thing she notices. and her mind races, hoping to maybe see him on her shift tomorrow. the daydreaming causes her to trip. thankfully, she caught herself before eating shit, not without attracting the attention of the cameron boy, though. his hands shooting out to her shoulders and steadying her.

“you good?”

she smiles sheepishly, smoothing down her hair. twee nods and looks down at her shoes, frowning at the scuff on the leather of her new shoes. goddamnit. when she looks up at him again, eyes squinting in the setting sun, rafe feels his own smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

“sorry— was just… thinking…” she trails off slightly.

rafe actually huffs out a laugh, and she becomes more embarrassed than before. her grimace makes his grin soften.

“don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah? s’all good.”

her little grin is adorable and rafe trails his eyes down her body when she turns to retrieve something from her cart. miles of smooth skin disappearing underneath that short skirt, he can just barely see the lace edge of her panties, until her dainty hand reaches back and pulls the skirt down a little.

“glad you caught me then—“

his eyes snap up back to hers when she turns around with what he assumes is her purse, smirking and crossing his arms. her playfulness isn’t lost on rafe and he finds himself reciprocating, flirting.

“oh, so it’s a habit of yours to trip into eligible bachelors?”

she giggles and rafe knows he’s in.

he sets his jaw, noticing her looking up at him through those dark lashes. she leans back against the cart and crosses one ankle over the other. rafe’s eyes are drawn to the movement and trail slowly up her legs. when he meets her eyes again, she has a knowing smile on her cute face.

“bet you, uh, get a lotta these dudes in trouble, huh?”

the way she cocks her head to the side, an innocent gleam in her eyes, makes his shorts feel just that much tighter. her voice is soft and unsure when she replies, “whaddaya mean?”

rafe shrugs, smiling lazily and scratching his ear. “pretty thing like you workin’ here… dunno, ‘m sure it makes it hard to focus on golf…”

her huff paired with an eye roll makes his chest swell. he can see the smile she’s biting back and chuckles, fishing his phone out of his pocket.

“y’know i— i gotta see you somewhere other than here, if you wanna…” he mumbles lowly, holding the device out.

“y’gonna get me fired, rafe…” she teases.

his name has never sounded so good. rafe places his other hand hand over his heart, grinning at the giggle she lets out at his dramatic gesture.

“i promise, kid, swear on m’life. just one date?”

he’s putting on the works, he knows; charming smirk and narrowing eyes. but, twee is just a girl, in every sense of the word. so when she walks off after giving him her number, hundred dollar tip the handsome boy said was ‘all f’you’ tucked into her bra strap and a promise to text him her work schedule, she can’t hide the smile growing on her face.

rafe can’t hide his either, shaking his head and stuffing his phone back in the pocket of his golf shorts. walking out to his truck, he can’t think of anything else but the apple hairclip she was wearing and that little grin that made his heart stutter.

[qlossytbh]

im so FUCKING stupid and i accidentally forgot to add tags and i deleted the anon request this fic was inspired from so i will paste it here

“Could you please write one about having a team night round Rossi's but you and Spencer had had an argument before so it was tense between the pair of you so you try and flirt with one of the out of town agents to try and get his attention?”

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧- 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you and Spencer don’t usually get along due to your constant fights to prove who was better. But when the two of you are paired on a case together, hidden feelings start to arise towards the surface.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 enemies to lovers type beat (?), academic rivals (?), fem!reader, typical criminal minds content, jealous spence, mentions of a guy that gets a little too handsy

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 4.6k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i get a little carried away with request oops. i don’t think this is exactly what you were asking for but

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had come to no one's attention that you and Spencer were fighting— again..

The BAU team was currently hunting down a murderer that was attacking teenagers at a local campus in the city of Chicago, and all that Reid seemed to be doing these past few days was getting on your nerves.

Wether it was searching the crime scene, analyzing the possible behavioral patterns of the UnSub, or setting down a profile, you and Reid could not stop bickering, driven solely off the desperation of beating each other with whoever could piss the other off more.

You thought Spencer had this aggravatingly, annoying need to prove he was always so much smarter than everyone else, using his wide variety of big intellectual words just to show off.

He, on the other hand, truly couldn't stand how you'd always butt into every conversation you deemed necessary attempting to seem smarter just to get yourself on top of a case. Your ego had been Spencer's main problem across these past few months, but it was slowly driving him off the wall and he found that with each passing day, he was finding it harder to work with you.

The initial conflict seemed irrelevant right now— something about Spencer purposely embarrassing you in front of the the team back when you had just started out in the BAU. Even if it was unintentional, the anger stuck.

You had been so embarrassed, feeling your insides pool with irritation as you questioned why he felt the necessity to correct you so publicly— in front of people you still didn't know.

With time, it slowly morphed into a constant competition to prove who was smarter, quicker on their feet, more widely intellectual than the other, always finding ways to one up each other in conversations— anything.

You were smart and you couldn’t blame him for seeing you as a competition the second you stepped foot into the BAU.

The rest of the team was growing sick of the two of you always whining and bickering. It could be the smallest, stupidest fights— or something so weighty, the two of you wouldn’t speak for days.

However, the two of you got into a fight yesterday when landing in Chicago.

It had been stupid

It started when you "accidentally" slammed the taxi door in his face, genuinely not realizing he was getting out of the cab on the same side you were, even though a side of you thought he deserved much more than a slammed door to the face.

Later on in the day a heavier argument spewed, given since he accused you of being ‘unprofessional’, which had incredibly pissed you off. It was the one thing that truly got to you, and Spencer knew this.

Since then, none of you had spoken to each other and the rest of the team could practically feel the tension. Hotch rounded the table, pressing his hands together.

"So, let's lay it all out," Hotch announced. "Who's starting?”

You and Spencer both volunteered simultaneously. You shot a glare in his direction, which he easily disregarded as he stood from his seat at the table

"So far, we know were looking for a male between the age of 20-25," You cross your arms across your chest and look over at the board with a huff, accepting your defeat.

Your eyes scanned through the evidence and pictures at hand. While Spencer continued his analysis, hands shoved deep into his pockets, you squinted at the words scribbled onto the case file. "The killer seems to have a target preference given how all four victims have been female college students between the ages of 18-24"

"So, do we know which kind of killer were dealing with here?" Morgan asked, flipping through the case files.

"If I'm not mistaken, the last victim presented a alteration in the Unsub’s M.O in comparison to what we've been observing so far, which could ultimately mean we could be dealing with a disorganized offender acting out on—" He stated, turning towards the board, but when your eye caught a part of information in the file, you were quick to interrupt.

"Actually, you are mistaken," You reached over, grabbing the file in front of you in one swift movement and flipped the page as you stood to your feet. Spencer froze and turned towards you.

"Excuse me?" He inquired, clearly unamused at your antics. You briefly looked up at him, only sparing him a brief glance.

"You're wrong. The Unsub isn't disorganized," You jutted your chin towards the board. "We're actually dealing with an organized offender."

Morgan glanced over at JJ, quietly cursing to himself knowing that this was probably payback and not heading in any favorable direction.

"Sure, this specific victim wasn't as calculated and precise as the other," You started. "Up until now, the Unsub seemed to be killing all of these girls with long, tedious methods, such as torturing them, which clearly shows us he feels no remorse and actually finds pleassure out of killing them. Organized crimes are premeditated and carefully planned, so that would explain why we found little to no evidence at the scene yesterday and organized criminals, according to the classification scheme, can tell right from wrong—"

"—But our buddy here doesn't care," Morgan finished off, looking up at you. With a nod, you continued

"Precisely. The pattern of our victims also leads us to believe that he's seeaking some sort of revenge on the girls, since they're all from the same background." You pointed to a few post-it notes on the board. "Right here it says that all four girls belonged to the same frat house on campus—"

"Yet our recent victim did not," Spencer butted in with a shurg, facing you smugly. With an unamused glance, you took two warning steps towards him, maintaining your composure.

"Well, Dr. Reid, if you read the autopsy report you'd see that the newest victim died from a blunt force to the head," Annoyed was an understatement as to what you were feeling towards him at that precise moment. Your eyes narrowed while you managed to keep on the most innocent smile you could. "That means that the attack was out of some unplanned rage, which caused him to lashout and therefore break his regime."

You took one more step towards Reid, suddenly dangerously close to him. Intimidating people wasn’t something that came hard, much less with Spencer.

Something inside you fed off that vast satisfaction that arose when he'd get activated with you. Seeing his breaths go shallow, his whole posture to stiffen along with the habitual furrow in his brows felt like your daily dosis of serotonin.

"If you payed more attention to these case files, you'd also see that the newest victims was our previous victims best friend, so there still is a connection just not the one you've been blindly looking for.”

With that you slapped the files into his chest and stepped back, referring back over to the board.

Spencer gapped at you, opening his mouth before clamping it shut immediately. He fumbled, grappling at the papers on his chest and looking down at them in embarrassment. You felt yourself smile with satisfaction at how his movements became sloppy. "I— I would've said that if you let me finish my analysis and let me actually read these papers."

"Or you can just admit you're slow—"

"So!" JJ butted in, quickly cutting off whatever fight was about to implode in-front of them. "We’re looking for someone connected throughout the campus that would somehow want some sort of revenge on these girls? Correct?"

"Yes." You and Spencer stated simultaneously. You bit back a comment, swiping your tongue against your lower lip, annoyance filling every single nerve in your body while he let out a noise similar to a scoff.

"Here's the plan then," Hotch said, ignoring the two of you. "Prentiss and I will give the Chicago police force the profile. Morgan and JJ, deal with collecting possible witnesses; anyone at that campus who knows anything that may deem useful."

You stood, glancing over at Spencer. When he met your eyes you quickly looked away, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

"Reid, Y/L/N," Hotch said, finally acknowledging the two of you with a steady gaze. "You two will assigned search the crime scene to see if any evidence was left behind—just protocol checking, but we need to be sure nothing was left unseen."

You opened and closed your mouth, intending to protest about the pairing but deciding strongly otherwise.

With the intention to remain professional you nodded in agreement. As hard as you found to do so, you waited patiently for the other members of the team to draining the room until only you, Morgan, JJ, Spencer were left collecting the remaining of your things.

As Morgan was grabbing a few of his things with JJ patiently waiting by his side, you walked up to her with a devious smile. "Hey Jayj, wanna change partners?"

"I am right here." Spencer answered.

"I dont care," You shot back, causing him to angrily shove more of his files into his satchel. You turned back to Morgan, practically ready to get onto your knees and beg him for sympathy. "Please Morgan, trade with me— I'm begging you."

"We don’t get to choose who we get paired with,” He started, looking down at you unamused. Your face fell, deadpanning at your friend.

“If you're going to complain about being paired with Reid none of us wanna hear it," Morgan groaned, dragging a hand across his face. You opened your mouth to protest, but he rudely cut you off by pointing an accusitory finger at you. "The two of you have been yapping at eachother faces since we got here."

"We have not!" You both shouted in unison. You angrily turning around to face Spencer, warning him with a glare. “Stop that!"

"It's always something with the two of you," JJ shook her head in disappointment. "You're lucky you two are the smartest members on the team cause we would've had you seperated months ago,"

JJ finished grabbing her things and glared at the two of you. Morgan grabbed his things as well, before turning to you. "Either you sort out all of this sexual tension you've got going on or you keep your mouths shut and get along!"

"What!?" You gaped, taking aback by Morgan's accusations. "Thats not—We dont—"

You fumbled with your words as your cheeks grew hot. You stammered, trying to hit back with something, but inevitably found your mind blank. You huffed, snatching your bag and rushing towards the exit of the conference room "I hate you."

"No you don't princess." Morgan stated as you walked past him and shoved his arm.

"And you boy genius," Morgan said looking at Spencer and tossed her bag across her shoulder. "That goes for you too, either get laid, or shut up."

With that, they left the room leaving a sputtering and angry Spencer struggling to regain his composure after the absurdity that had left his collegues mouth. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and grabbed his final things, leaving the room in a frenzy.

You pulled the cars ignition once you pulled the car into the Campus buildings entrance. You put the car in park as you umblucked your seatbelt, which Spencer started doing not long after you had, following your suit. The ride had been completely silent, none of you wanted to speak to eachother, worrying that if you did another argument would start.

All he did during the ride was read some of the case files while you intently focused on the road. Your hands gripped tightly at the steering wheel and every once and a while you'd sneak small glances at him— not because you cared or anything, you just wanted to see how much more information he was getting ahead of you with.

The building was secluded off to the public and the entrance was swarmed with countless police officers and agents. As you climbed out of the car, you pulled your glasses onto the top of your head and slammed the door in one swift motion. By the time you got to Spencers side of the door, he was still inside slowly collecting his things, which pissed you off. You waited impatiently for him to climb out with a huff.

For what seemed to feel like forever, he finally opened the car door and started to climb out as you waited impatienly. "You look like you're doing that on purpose."

"Getting out of the car? Yeah, I am actually" He stated, finally stepping out. A snide remark came up your throat but wasn't able to leave your mouth given how Spencer towered over you once he strightened himself out.

He unintentionally stepped way too close for your personal preference, but your boundaries melted somewhere in your consciousness.

You craned your head back just slightly, allowing yourself to look into his eyes. Spencer swallowed thickly, suddenly painfully aware of how close the two of you were. An unfamiliar voice reeled the two of you back to reality. "Dr. Y/L/N?"

You practically jumped, swallowing down the urge to yelp. You stepped away from Spencer, blinking rapidly as you cleared your throat. "Uh yes!—“

"Thats, uhm, me—“ You slipped your glasses off and put them into your bag anxiously. "Dr. Y/L/N."

You turned to the Agent in front of you, who held his hand out with an irksomely pearly white smile. You gazed at the man, and you had to admit he was easy on the eyes— a little too stereotypically attractive for your taste.

"I'm Agent Mirthwood, head of the Chicago police department, Aaron Hotchner specified you'd be here to help with the case," You took his hand and shook it. "Wasnt expecting a doll like you."

Spencer didnt miss the way his eyes raked across your body, taking in every part of you with careful detail. You were wearing a silk black button up, along with a blazer that matched the skirt that hugged your skin tightly. Spencer would have to be blind to ignore how every piece of clothing you had on hugged every inch of your curves perfectly, so obviously, whoever this guy was, he was going to be staring.

How couldnt he?

You laughed nervously and Spencer, despite his profiler background, couldn't tell if it was becasue you were uncomfrotable or flattered. Either possibilities made his skin crawl.

"Charming," You noted, not really wanting to give him any more material to chew at. "So, mind leading the way?"

"Not at all." He grinned, placing his hand on your lower back and guiding you towards the building. Spencer followed behind pathetically, feeling his hands clench and his jaw tighten while he watched the guys hand linger where they didn't belong.

Once inside the building, you and Spencer looked around your surroundings, checking over a few areas of the marked numbers and rerunning the supposed series of events in your heads. "This is where the first victim tried escaping,"

You and Spencer simultaneously looked over to the glass window that had been merely cracked. "Can't believe how a murder took place and the campus director didn't even close the place down for more than five days."

"Agent Mirthwood, you said that the floor above us was where Anya Colins was murdered, correct?" You asked, looking over towards the locker. Spencer stood beside you with his hands shoved into his pocket.

"Over in classroom seven, yes” He responded. His eyes flickered towards the pop of your hip. “Call me Ben,"

You looked over your shoulder momentarily, shooting him a polite smile. Spencer bored his eyes into the side of the agents face, slyly enough so that he wouldn’t notice.

"Could it be possible that we take a look across the flooring, you know, check inside any of the clases for some clues we may have missed?" You said, lifting your chin and facing Agent Mirthwood. He smiled bumptiously at you.

"Why I'd be delighted to accompany you and help you look out for whatever it is you're looking for—"

"Actually," Spencer butted in, somewhat protectively if you let yourself assume— given how the tone of his voice had grown territorial. "Hotchner specifically implied we stick together as the pair we were assigned, and we usually work best when just the two of our heads are looking around."

You furrowed your brows, looking up at Spencer with confusion. His tone alarmed you momentarily, and at first you wanted to grow defensive because who was he to boss you around?

You took in the familiar line-out of his clenched jaw and how his shoulders broadened ever so slightly. You noticed he had chosen to stand between you and Agent Mirthwood, and suddenly it dawned you and hit you harder than a ton of bricks.

Spencer Reid was jealous.

Despite the weird feeling nagging at your chest, you couldn't contain how a smug smile began to appear onto your face. Somehow this newfound information cave you a newfound cockiness— you finally found something you knew had the upper hand on.

"Actually Ben," You dodged Spencer, making a B-line for the broad man you had only recently met. You tried looking as innocent as you possibly could, the look you always used to get men right into the corner you needed them in. "I'd actually love having your company. I'm gonna need someone watching over me up there."

Spencer froze, looking back and forth as the darkness in this guys eyes only increased and suddenly— he panicked. Spencer was panicking because he genuinely thought you were going to leave with Agent Mirthwood and he wouldn't be able to watch over you or him, or anything you did with him—

Then he saw it. The way you turned, shooting him a challenging glare over your shoulder towards him.

"You wouldn't mind, would you Dr. Reid?"

“I—“ His fists tightened as he stared at you, stunned. Something underneath his gaze was warning you that you were pushing him close to his limits and you loved it.

“One of the victims was attacked up there and then dragged herself all the way down here,” You watched the agent explain broadly.

“That must’ve been horrible,” You added an almost feather like gasp to your words. He knew damn well that you knew what this officer was saying was nothing but false due to how the crime scene was framed.

“Yeah,” Ben took a step closer to you and Spencer couldn't even stop himself when he pried through, grabbing your arm and pulling you towards him territorially.

“Bosses order. The rest of you keep looking around to see if anything looks out of place."

Spencer dragged you all the way up the stairs and into the empty hallway on the second floor. You struggled to keep up, complaining pretty vocally that your heels were screwing up your rhythm, especially in comparison to his long and hurried strides. You finally dug the palm of your foot into the ground and yanked your arm away.

"What the hell is your deal!?" You clamored, knowing you had him cornered. He turned, pushing his lips into a straight line and looking at you in complete silence.

“My deal!?" He shot back suddenly, gesturing towards you in an exasperated motion. “You barely know the man and you're willing to walk somewhere with him alone..!”

You scoffed. "Oh please, like coming up here with you is any better."

"You don't run the risk of getting potentially murdered by me." He said, trying to prove his point.

"You sure about that?"

Spencer looked at you and something shifted behind his eyes. Your face was furrowed with nothing but pure anger as you huffed widely. Spencer opened his mouth and closed it once again, hesitating whether to say what he was about to.

"You're being unprofessional." He blankly stated. Your mouth fell agape.

There was that fucking word again— You felt about ready to murder him. There was adrenaline coursing through every nerve of your body at this point.

“What did you say?” You almost whispered.

“I said you’re being unprofessional.” He stated nonchalantly. You gaped at him before tightening your fist and resisting the urge to punch the crap out of that smug look.

“I’m unprofessional?!”

“Yes,”

“That’s because you’re making it hard for me to work with you!”

He rolled your eyes at you and became indignant.

“Stop doing that!” You barked.

“Im not doing anything,”

“You keep treating me like im stupid,” You pointed a finger at him. “Stop acting like you’re so much better than me when you are not.”

Spencer clamped his mouth shut, seeing you blaze with anger. “Ben would be a way better company than you,”

“Why do you keep saying his name like that?”

You huffed. “Like what?”

“Like—“ Spencer stopped, sucking in a sudden breath as if he hasn’t been breathing since he walked up here with you. “Never mind,”

You scoffed. “No come on,”

You took a dangerous step towards Spencer, now only a few inches away from his face. “Say it,”

“Because I think Ben, pissed you off the most when he had his hands on my—“

Spencer quickly grabbed your face in between both his hands and slammed his mouth onto yours. You inhaled visiously through your nose as you melted immediately under his touch.

Everything froze right then and there as he pulled away quicker than he had leaned in. Your face still remained cupped gently in his hands while your grip was tight on both his wrists as you stared at him, mouth low in shock. A shaky breath left his mouth, and fear was pooling around in his eyes.

You could feel your own chest heaving as you looked back and forth at his eyes, still not grasping what had just happened between the two of you. Spencer towered over your small frame, holding you as if you were the most fragile thing in the room. It felt like there was a rope pulling between the two of you and it was right about to break. His thumb grazed your bottom lip and you could practically hear the chord snap.

All the anger drained your body instantly as you caught yourself pulling him onto your mouth with just as much desperation as he had previously done. Your movements were hurried and frantic, as if both of you were scared that at any point this new found standing point would stop disappear and distance would be put between the two of you. The last thing you wanted was for his body to be any farther away from you than it currently was, and not understanding why you suddenly felt that way, angered you even more.

His mouth hungrily moved against yours as his grip on your face tightened. Your hands snaked their way into the back of his soft curls and pulled at them roughly, emitting a groan from his mouth onto yours.

Out of all the times you'd provoked a groan from Spencer Reid, this had been your all time favorite.

In frantic movements, Spencer pushed you against the nearest wall, hearing a rough thud come from behind you but never once disconnecting your lips from his. His hips pushed against your in one rash motion, causing you to whimper softly against his lips, which reached the deepest parts of him

His hands traveled anywhere and everywhere you'd let them. They ran down your waist and stopped at your hips giving them a rough squeeze which only caused you to squirm once again and pull at his hair ever rougher.

Everything was messy and hurried but so unexplainably wonderful.

"Tell me to stop and I will," He muttered over your lips.

"Don't—“ You warned, panting desperately for him to grab you in ways you could have only dreamt about. You needed to feel his hands rake across your body as if he owed it. “Please, don’t”

Spencer’s heart shuddered as he could visibly hear the desperation in your voice. How you were practically begging for this just as much as he had been. How you melted under his touch so effortlessly.

Before Spencer could move any further, a voice cut the two of you off. “Hey, guys!”

You pushed Spencer off yourself with a little more urgency than you had initially intended. You ran your hands through your hair frantically and pushed your skirt down, which had accidentally— not so accidentally— been pushed up. Spencer on the other hand, settled with a simple, subtle gesture of grazing the corner of his lip to remove some of the nude pink lipstick that had smudge a bit onto his face.

He cleared his voice before turning to whoever had called out, but before he could say anything you quickly interjected. “Morgan? JJ? What are you doing here?”

Spencer could’ve allowed himself to smile at the sound of the quiver in your voice and how your body was still distraught by the adrenaline.

Morgan eyed the two of you and it didn’t take any time at all for him to realize what had happened. The shuffled hair, the puffy lips along with all the wrinkled clothes. Not to mention how both of your chests heaved heavily.

“We have an advance on the case but it seems like you two are busy with something…” JJ stated, looking over at Morgan from the side of his eye.

“Or someone,” He added. You tried to find some sort of defense in your favor but came up with none. You didn’t want to even look Spencer in the eye, so you quickly turned and headed for the staircase, when you approached Morgan, he whistled lowly.

“Someone got a piece of genius boy and enjoyed it—“ You smacked the back of his head.

“Hey!” He groaned, looking back at you while you strutted down the stairs, barely being able to keep your balance steady.

i am planing on doing a spicy part two😝

[scribs-dibs]

cherry wine

(separate) belle & wise, gn reader, kinda ooc... because im still early game i think..., late-night proofreading. godspeed if ur reading this 🫶🏾

wc; ~1.7k total

phaethon can navigate hollows with ease. but a crush?

Wise does not hear any of the words that play loudly on the screen in front of him. He doesn’t care to. Though this is one of his favorites– his brain is occupied by you just sitting here, beside him.

The documentary buzzes on about its topic, but Wise can’t make out a word over the sound of his rapidly beating heart. He’s stiff– sat up straight as a board even if the soft cushions of the couch beckon him to do otherwise. He can’t think. Usually he is the one who can iron out the folds of a situation, a cool collected mind built to play in contrast to his sister. But now his thoughts are a mess- contorted underneath the blunt of his embarrassment. If Belle were here now, she’d laugh right in his face.

It’s her fault he’s in this mess to begin with.

(“You suck at hiding it, you know,” Belle is at his side in the doorway, waving you goodbye for the day. Her words make him jolt.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Your crush, obviously.”

Wise is almost sure that for a moment, his heart stops beating. He barely manages to suppress the gasp that threatens to spill out of his throat.

Instead he brushes it off, turns on his heel pointedly and shakes his head from a sudden bout of fake-exhaustion.

“Okay. I’m calling it a night—”

“You’re probably not the only one to like them, Wise.”

He stops in his tracks.

Because she's right. In the months the two have come to know you, you've been the kind, helpful neighbor who has helped them through thick and thin. You are known on Sixth Street, a regular name heard from store to store— he'd be foolish to think that he's the only one that has warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of you. Damn.

“Buuut,” Belle nudges him playfully on the shoulder, her signature smile making her eyes crinkle at the edges, “You could be the first to make a move.”

“Belle–”

“I’ll even help! Come on Wise!”)

And now he’s here, with his heart fit to burst out of his chest.

“So…uh,”

Your attention is on him now, the smoothness of his voice pulling you from the visuals of the movie. Little does he know, Wise is a pleasant sight for the eyes. He has a soft, lopsided smile, and his complexion is tinted with warmth because of his room’s dim lighting. (It’s strange, though, that the more you look the more intense it seems to get.) His eyes are usually crystal clear and focused, but now they are glossed over with something that looks like unease.

The longer you stare, the harder his heart beats against his ribcage. It’s not fair, truly. You’ve only sat next to him and looked in his direction, yet his face feels like it burns and his tongue is too heavy to form proper words. Movies are his thing. Belle had suggested this because it should be easy. But he can’t think straight when butterflies are soaring in his stomach.

At the very least, he wants to see if you’re even enjoying the documentary, so he wills his mouth to do something other than open and immediately snap shut.

“Do you…like me?”

The movie. He meant the movie. The sentence was supposed to be: Do you like the movie.

There is something pitiful, Wise thinks, in how he scrambles to make up for his botched words. The calm, steady tones of his voice are replaced by chopped up mix-mashes of sentences, trying desperately to weave into something coherent.

To no avail of course.

His mouth can’t seem to stop now that it’s started, fragment after fragment tumbling freely out of his mouth– like it has a mind of its own. He’s flushed up to the ears, the pink flush to his skin now all- encompassing. His mouth just keeps moving– until you manage to stop it with your own.

You can feel his breath hitch in his throat. Wise doesn’t think he deserves a reward this good after fumbling so badly, but when your lips brush against his he can’t find it in himself to be truly upset. You are pulling at the edges of his jacket, hands digging hard into the material to ensure he doesn’t try to pull away. You can’t stand to see him apologize for crossing some sort of nonexistent line– your feelings are returned.

“Does that answer your question?”

Wise has to take a moment to breathe. The kiss was a short little thing, one that was chaste in nature– you just wanted him to be sure of your own feelings. The blue-green of his eyes are focused on you– truly focused, this time, not a fleeting glance that is quickly cast away.

“Wise?”

Your voice snaps him out of the daze he was in.

“Yeah. Yeah, but,”

It’s his turn to pull you in this time– subtly soft hands cupping your cheeks.

“Would you mind ‘answering’ me again?”

Belle is someone you’ve always looked up to.

She’s sweet and smart, and throughout all your errands throughout Sixth Street she’s always available to lend a hand. You couldn’t find a paper long enough to list all the reasons you’re grateful for her presence.

That being said, when you’re face to face with her, you can’t quite seem to get yourself together.

“C’mon, you’re not going easy on me, are you?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Belle pouting, brows furrowed and bottom lip jutted out. It’s adorable, and you’re so taken that you fully run into her snake on the arcade machine.

It was her idea to go out once the day had come to a close. The sun still hangs lazily in the sky, casting everything in gold. The arcade is a place where you can relax after being pulled this way and that by different people around town. This time, Belle joins you, offhandedly mentioning how she also needs to destress from such a long day at work.

You’re a bit distracted, though, when the neon lights reflect in her eyes and make her smile that much more radiant.

“You’re not answering…” Belle gasps, complete with a theatrical hand to her chest, “You are, aren’t you!”

“No, of course not! I just,” It dawns on you that the arcade is nearly empty, and suddenly this one-on-one game of snake seems far more intimate than it actually is. It’s just you and her. You can’t help but feel a bit giddy on the inside– the excitement must deal a blow to your accuracy.

“I’m just off my game, that’s all.”

Belle hums, contemplative. You can’t help but feel worried when the gears of her brain start turning.

“In that case…That just means we need to up the steaks!”

“Up the steaks?”

She nods, and her smile grows more devious by the second.

“Mhm! Let’s say…” Belle taps her chin, and though she is putting on a show of trying to think of something, you have a sneaking suspicion that she has already decided what it is she’s after, “The loser has to give something to the winner?”

You know, distantly, that this has to play into Belle’s hands somehow. But she’s never done you any harm, and her eagerness is so palpable that you can’t help but concede.

“Alright, alright. Fine.”

There is nothing but the buzz and click of the machine for a while, and Belle was right– the new motivation lights a fire underneath you, and suddenly your nerves are replaced by a burning desire to win. You don’t know what you’ll ask for if you do– by the time you two are finished here, with the score finally settled, you’re sure most of Sixth Street’s shops will be closed. But you want to win.

You swerve at the last minute to avoid Belle’s snake, grabbing a diamond on the tile in front by the skin of your teeth. But Belle has always been sneaky, able to pull a last-minute change in a situation with ease. She cuts a sharp turn, and the rest of her snake is able to encircle yours. You watch with a sickly sense of dread as your snake breaks into itty-bitty pieces.

You heave a sigh– at least it was a good game. But you’re still soured at the loss of a win that was so close.

“Aww, what’s wrong?” Belle is grinning, eyes forming little crescents, “Don’t tell me you’re a sore loser…”

You roll your eyes, but you’re far too endeared to be properly annoyed.

“’Course not. You won,”

The arcade’s lights have started to dim by now, the peachy-colored sky dipped into inky darkness as you step out.

“Even if you were sneaky about it.”

“Was not!”

You glare out of the corner of your eye, and again you are met with a playful pout.

“What is it you want, anyway?” You busy yourself with walking a few steps ahead, avoiding her moonlit face as much as possible. How can you put up a fight when she looks at you like that?

“Well,” Belle gazes upon the shops along Sixth Street, their windows dark and their doors closed, “Everything is closed for the night, looks like. I’ll have to get a bit creative, huh?”

Belle’s footsteps grow louder, and before you know it she’s made her way in front of you, eyes full of starlight.

“How about…”

She takes slow, calculated steps toward you, and your heart leaps in your throat.

“A kiss?”

Belle is but a few inches away from you, her head tilted and her gaze soft. Her voice is quiet and unusually meek as she says it, like her confidence had reached its limit.

“…O-of course, if you don’t want to–”

You pull her in before you can second-guess yourself. Her lips are plush, and though she is initially surprised by your sudden movement, it takes barely a second for you to feel them smile against your own. Her arms link around you like it’s the easiest thing she’s ever done, and the silver-tinted street is drowned out like it never mattered.

When you part, her face is flushed a pretty shade of pink. You aren’t better off– you’re so happy that you now stand on wobbly legs.

“Happy now?”

“Hm, not quite. I think you should give me another.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

ty for reading! rbs w/comments are appreciated!

[evie-sturns]

period - 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀 𝗦𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗼

summary: you unexpectedly get your period after spending the night with chris, he does everything he can to make you feel better.

contains: mentions of blood, fluff, crying, swearing.

----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐------------———

chris and i have been dating for almost two months, i sleep over at his house often though, including last night.

9:46am

i'm rudely awakened by frantic tapping on my shoulder, i rub my eyes and roll over where i'm met with chris's distraught face. "hm..?" i groan out.

"y/n, are you okay" chris rambles, his vision flicks between my eyes and the matress.

"what..?" i mumble, my vision is still partially blurred from the sudden wake up.

"you're bleeding" chris says quietly, swallowing harshly.

i sit up, the matress is dotted with blood, along with the small pyjama set i wore last night.

my period has always been irregular, ever since i was about 12. i'd never know when it would come but i would just deal with it when it did.

my stomach sinks, my cheeks instantly flush from embarrassment, this is the kind of thing thats meant to happen 2 years into your relationship, not 2 months.

my eyes start to burn, im already an emotional person but now that this has just happened i don't think i can physically be okay.

"im so sorry chris." i say, my voice breaking.

chris clears his throat, i can tell he's slightly awkward about this.

the silence in the room grows, but is quickly cut short by a sob coming from me. chris's head snaps round to look at me, "oh fuck-.. no its okay!"

he gets out of bed, without a second thought he leans over the matress and picks me up in a bridal position. he speed walks to the bathroom, "look at me." chris says calmly as i cry into his shoulder, i tilt my head up and lock eyes with him. "don't cry sweetheart, it doesn't matter to me."

i nod with a sniffle, he places me down on two feet. "you wanna get in the bath?" chris says gently.

"yeah.." i say, my voice still wobbling.

i stand still with my hands by my side vulnerably. "you want me to.." chris whispers, keeping his eyes locked on mine. "if you dont mind.." i reply.

he reaches his hand out and peels my tank top off of my body, along with my shorts. he does it so nonchalantly its impressive.

chris has only seen me naked once, which was only a week or so ago after our first hookup.

he flicks the bath on, putting his finger under the stream to check the temperature before lifting me up and placing me down.

chris bends over and picks up the pyjamas, before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him. i throw my head back as soon as he goes "how did this happen." i groan to myself.

-

about 10 minutes has passed, the whole time i've just been trying to calm myself, crying about this isn't gonna make it any less embarrassing for me.

my head snaps to the side as i hear 2 soft knocks on the wooden door, "come in" i say with a forced smile, chris peeks his head round the corner with a sympathetic look. hes got a freshly folded pair of sweatpants and a hoodie in his arms, which he places down on the sink. "you okay?" he asks casually, sitting down on the side of the tub.

"i mean, i'm okay as i can be right now!" i smile warmly up at chris,

he reaches into his pocket and clears his throat "i found this downstairs, i think one of nick's friends left it here-..uh" chris murmmers, pulling a tampon out of his pocket.

"thank you chris, honestly i'm sorry about being a pain." i sigh, chris shakes his head "no you're good, promise."

"just gonna go make the bed, yeah?" chris sits up off the tub and walks out of the bathroom.

-

after getting myself together i open the door to the bedroom, chris is sitting on the bed, laying the pillows out strategically. i feel like a kid thats just thrown up, staring at my parent who just had to bathe me and clean the sheets.

he stands up and runs over to me full force, grabbing me around my waist and picking me up, earning a high pitched squeal from me. "chris!!" i screech as he flops down on the bed with me still in his arms.

"what can i actually do to repay you." i whisper into chris's chest.

"give me some awesome head next week."

"christopher."

----------------┌── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┐------------———

[sstrwbrryccke]

— bullying him pt.3 | sub soobin

part 1 | part 2 | part 4

tags: loser!nerd!soobin x bully!mean!reader, gn reader, possessive reader, mentions of possessive acts, pet play slightly, dubcon, tons of public humiliation, public sex, bullying, mutual pinning with heavy denial, both are obsessed for each other, unhealthy relationships, reader is pretty sadistic, foot on crotch, exhibitionism, handjob, multiple orgasms, public fondling, fluff at end

tag: @zuzuhasablog

you tapped an impatient foot on the ground, periodically checking your phone for the time. he was late by 2 minutes now, and you feel your irritation rise as you type snarky texts to him. how was it that you were the one who came early to the pity date? it was seriously ridiculous. shouldn’t he be on time to the date he looked forward to?

yn: where tf are you? loser: im sorry im sorry im so sorry im coming right now yn: im going to pull your hair out when i see you mutt. loser: im sorry please forgive me

if it turned out that he had stood you up, you were seriously going to rain hell on him. he’s going to get shoved into the locker, have his hair roughly grabbed and face thoroughly punched until he’s bloodied and bruised. though perhaps it wouldn't be that much of a punishment compared to your usual bedroom activities with him. he would probably enjoy the process too; as it meant all your attention was on him. you realised after a bit that he really was a desperate. masochistic. mutt. (or maybe he just craves your validation that badly)

just as you were cursing him out in your mind, you see a tall figure in the distance, stumbling and running towards you like the loser he is. you can tell he spots you as well because he quickly turns to the nearest reflective surface to fix his appearance and hair; even popping a mint in his mouth before running up to you. his face was pink, probably from the exercise— his plump lips pressing into an apologetic smile.

“sorry, i’m sorry i’m late.” he was slightly out of breath from running.

“sorry? fucking mutt. do you not respect my time? if you were any later i would’ve stood your ass up.” you shove him by the shoulder and he looks at you like a kicked dog.

he shakes his head profusely at your accusation, desperately trying to get back into your good favours.

“no— no! i’m, i, i’m so sorry. i respect your time, i’m so dumb i know.”

soobin degrades himself as he chews at his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t upset you enough for you to leave him. he had been thinking about this date all night, he could barely even get any sleep. if he messes up now he’ll never forgive himself!

“—you, you look amazing by the way.” he stammers, fingers fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

“i always look like this.” you deadpan, you didn’t bother to dress up more than you usually do in your school uniform. the most you did was pick out a simple, trendy outfit and brush your hair. bare minimum really.

“yeah you always look- i mean no, not that you don’t look amazing, always, because you do! but you look extra. amazing. compared to, usual…” he awkwardly stammers, making it worse for himself. he decides to just shut up before he embarrasses himself more and you ghost him.

“shut up and start walking, you loser.”

he follows behind you eagerly, glad you still want to hang out with him even after the most embarrassing stumble of his life. though to be honest, he stumbles like this quite a lot, and for some reason, you tolerate it (with only a few snide comments here and there). it was a few quiet seconds of walking, him being too afraid to speak up and you taking sly glances at him.

“why were you late?” you break the air, his head was lowered the entire walk, but he raises his head with your question. he was clearly nervous and sheepish as he averted his gaze.

“i… was picking an outfit.”

you give him a doubtful look and he continues, stuttering. “i— i didn’t know what style you liked. and… and i was trying to comply to your requests.”

ohhh... right, the request. you snicker to yourself. you forgot about that. it was just a small throwaway statement you texted him with no real thought behind it. you wanted to see if he would really follow through or not.

“so? show me.”

he’s nervous again, arms bracing himself as he glances around to check for people. soobin mentally hypes himself up before he pulls down his white turtleneck, showing you the silver collar around his neck. you cover your mouth with an audible pfft, laughing at him and he quickly rolls his turtleneck back up. god he was so foolish, but so obedient and cute.

“and? what about my other request?”

he looks at you wide eyed, stammering. “i, i can’t show you that!”

“did you do it?”

he blushes, hands clutching the edge of your hoodie, looking at you through his bangs. “please not here…”

he begs and you feel your heart soar. fuck, who taught him to act so cute? since when did the nerd know how to play sly? you clutch his crotch to feel for his cock and he silently whimpers.

“you didn’t wear any underwear, good boy.”

he trembles, moving away from your touch to look around, hoping no one caught you two. but his heart was in his throat and he was so excited about the praise you gave. so you liked what he did? he was over the moon. ‘good boy’, he repeated in his head. ‘good boy’.

it was unbearably adorable watching the cogs in his head malfunction, and you had to control yourself from ravaging him right here and there. you take the moment to appreciate his appearance, it was pretty obvious without him having to say so that he put a lot of effort into his outfit. he was wearing stylishly rimmed glasses, a jean jacket with a soft-lined collar, a white turtleneck and black pants. he also managed to get his hair under control, bangs carefully styled and curled.

you always thought he had looks, but this just proved how stunning he could look if he cleaned himself up. everyone else seems to agree too, and you notice the unsubtle glances thrown towards soobin. he stands out, tall and lean with a bunny-like charm. a few girls whispered and giggled, clearly blushing about him. but the attention twisted something dark in your chest, it grasped and dug its filthy nails into your heart. you wanted to lock him in your room and never let him see the light of day ever again. it was an insane thought process, deranged and unhinged. he wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a victim. you needed to get a grip.

you clutch his wrist tightly, pulling him along so he walks faster. he winces at the hold but lets you roughly handle him because it’s almost like you two are holding hands. he stares longingly at your hand and his, wishing you would interlock them again like you did yesterday. when you reach the mall, you watch with silent satisfaction as his eyes rake over the stores. there was a subtle pride you felt seeing him enjoy the choice you made.

“we have some time to kill before the restaurant reservation.”

he looks at you, eyes wide and plump lips smiling, you could almost see his irises sparkling. stupidly hopeful eyes. “you made a reservation for me?”

“don’t look at me like that. i just dont want to wait in line.”

he turns his gaze back to the front as you demand, but you can tell he is still giddy, ecstatic that you put even a sliver of effort into the date. it really didn't take much to satisfy him. even the slightest attention had him trembling. the two of you explore the mall, and naturally, soobin’s nerdy ass is drawn to the anime and manga stores. you tail behind him, mindlessly noting each thing he stares or geeks at.

while he was shuffling through the array of mangas, you pick out a shirt with a few familiar characters on it; you faintly remember soobin mentioning this show when you asked about his phone background. you tap him on the shoulder to get his attention, pointing to the shirt. “isn’t this your favourite anime?”

“oh! it’s limited edition!” he gasps out, excitement in his tone. taking the shirt from your grasp. his eyes widen in glee as he examines the details. the joy didn't last however, and soon he was putting the shirt back on the racks with a meek smile.

you raise an eyebrow “thought you liked it, nerd?”

he shyly looks at you, “yeah, but it’s too expensive.” he admits, clearly embarrassed. he feels like he was parading around his misfortune, look at this loser! no friends, no lover and now he doesn’t even have money. choi soobin, born on this earth and destined to be a loser.

“i’ll buy it for you.” your words cut through his thoughts. his cute hopeful eyes look up at you, and you interrupt him before he could utter out another word.

“but, you need to try it on for me first.” you continue, a pointed look on your face.

he pause for a second, the request was innocent enough, right?

☆★☆

he should’ve known, nothing was innocent with you. that's why he’s standing in the middle of the changing room with you sitting in the corner. a smirk on your lips.

“strip.”

he hesitates, but slowly shrugs off his jean jacket, he’s done this many times in front of you, and you’ve explored every nook and cranny his body can offer. but he never ceases to feel shy in his own skin, especially when you observe him like a collector would with a jewel. maybe its the setting that’s making him bashful, it feels borderline illegal to do such an act in the mall. even though many people have stripped down naked in the changing room, the way you make him feel is so sinful.

he takes off his turtleneck, exposing his bare chest, the silver collar complimenting his pale skin beautifully. it wasn’t much of a striptease and more of an activity he had to get over and done with, but it was still extremely arousing for you. watching him debase himself in his casual clothing. normally you only saw him in his school uniform (bruised, injured, crying, fucked out of his mind and all other similar variants), but watching him in his own clothing made you feel so much more powerful. like you had control and dominance over him even outside of school.

he awkwardly stands in the middle, half-naked. waiting for your next command. it didn't even take that much to train him! naturally so obedient.

“take off your pants too.”

he whimpers at this, clutching at his pants but not making a move. he begs you with his eyes, take pity on him please! not here!

“i’m… not wearing anything underneath”

“i know, take it off.”

“i, i, no, it’s.” he stammers, sweaty hands staining his pants.

“no? are you saying no to me?”

he shivers at your tone, nervously gulping. this didn't seem good at all. “i—!”his ears ring, reverberating in his chest. his right cheek was stinging red. “wh—“

you slap him again.

“mutts don’t talk.”

he shuts up at this, tears threatening to spill onto his glasses. you pull him forward by the silver collar and he helplessly stumbles as you tug him around. you observe the red slap marks on his cheeks, intertwined with his blush.

“you’ve been disrespectful since the beginning of the date. first you show up late and now you refuse to do something so simple? are you trying to make me mad choi soobin?”

he shakes his head desperately, a tear slipping down. he must be the lowest scum of the earth, because the rougher you treat him, the tighter his pants get. he isn’t a masochist he swears, but your attention (no matter good or bad) on him feels so good. he was so touch and attention starved, desperate for any kind of recognition from you.

“i’ll only repeat myself once, strip.”

he stumbles up, shaky hands quickly peeling his pants off his legs. his already hard cock embarrassingly erect and dripping the moment it’s exposed.

“look at that.” you coo, slapping his dick, making precum drip to the floor as he cries. “pretending to be so shy and innocent while you’re sporting a rock hard boner.”

he snivels pathetically, shaking his head and making his hair tousle around. the silver collar glints like a gem in the light. you chuckle cruelly. “okay, put your limited edition shirt on now.”

he bites back a whimper, he wanted you to touch him so bad. but he obediently slips on the shirt, it feels so dull against his skin, barely covering his cock. soobin rubs his thighs together, now more interested in you rather than the shirt. he wanted you to adore and spoil him, hell, spank him and hurt him too— just anything!

as if you read his mind, your hand reaches out, before you could even touch him, he starts trembling. you pull back with an amused smile and he immediately begins to cry and beg.

“no— no please touch me please touch me i’m sorry, i, i wanna, i wanna be good for you please!”

“bunny can’t even keep quiet?” you tease, putting your hands behind your back and he whines. the nickname thumping in his heart.

he starts again, though this time he tries to control his voice, suddenly aware that you two were still in public— only hidden away by a thin curtain. his bottom lip quivers as he moves closer to you, fingers meekly reaching out to grasp your hoodie. he leans his head on your chest and a small weak whisper escapes his pink lips.

“you already own me… so please just touch me…”

a shiver runs down your spine, holy shit this was dangerous. playing sly at first and now coy? he had an effect on you that you weren’t sure you liked. “i get it already so shut up and come here.” you lowly groan, pulling his body flush against yours. he tremors out a whine as you roughly grab his cock. he couldn’t complain though, because your warm hands were embracing him and touching him exactly where he wants. he melts in your hold, face comfortably nestled in the crook of your neck as you played with his cock. his groans and whines die down in your shoulder, and the way you thumbed his slit was almost domestic.

fuck what was this pathetic man doing to you? here you are in the changing rooms, letting this loser hug and sniffle into your shoulder as you jerk him off. the whole situation was bizarre and you were starting to feel lightheaded. weren't he supposed to be the one servicing you?

you press down on his cockhead particularly hard and he cries into your neck, biting the collar of your hoodie as you slide his cock underneath the limited edition shirt, rubbing him with the friction of the fabric. this sets him off, the motion just felt way too good, he keens into your fist, panting into your shoulder as he holds your hoodie tightly.

it was taking a little more than usual to make him orgasm, normally you would describe his orgasm speed as 'embarrassingly fast', but he seemed to be holding out for some reason. you give his cock an experimental squeeze and he just digs his face into your neck more. then it hits you, you haven’t given him permission yet. could he have been waiting for your verbal confirmation? maybe that's why he was squinting his eyes so tightly and biting down on your collar. just the thought itself sparked heat in your lower regions. it satisfied you more than you would like to admit.

so you lean down to where he was tucked, breath touching his ear.

“come for me”

it was a simple test on a guinea pig, cause and effect.

you eye him down as his body quivers, face flushing a thousand shades of red with an embarrassing amount of saliva wetting your hoodie collar. right after the command he releases, cock jittery and shaky as it spurts out come into the limited edition shirt. he finally lets go of your hoodie, taking a second to gain back his strength. when he comes to clarity, you can see the panic set in his throat. staring at the ruined limited edition shirt.

"what do we do? it's dirty now!"

"we buy it, what else?"

he hesitates and you raise a brow. "but, the, cashier she might, see this."

he vaguely gestures to the come stain on the shirt, right above his now flaccid cock.

"so? hurry up and change."

soobin seems troubled at your nonchalant response, but changes back to his outfit as you asked, timidly holding the ruined limited edition shirt. you shove the dollar bills in his hand.

"go up to the cashier, and pay."

somehow he summons up the courage to walk up to the counter, trying to ignore the feeling of his dick making contact with the rough jean fabric each time he took a step. it was all smooth at first, he let the cashier scan the item (making sure the stained patch was hidden), paid with the cash and felt the relief of freedom just as the cashier took the shirt to bag.

only for her to pause, soobin feels his palms clamber with sweat. she was staring at the shirt, an unreadable expression on her face before her eyes meet back with his.

"sir, it seems this shirt is stained."

god please just strike him down already.

"oh." he feels so dumb, only able to let out a sound in response. his tongue wasn't cooperating, how was he going to explain? what could he say? what should he say?

"ugh," the sound of exasperation makes him jolt. she's disgusted. she's definitely disgusted and he can never show his face in this store again.

"—it seems like the only one in stock. i'm so sorry for that sir."

she still doesn't know a thing. his heart was threatening to jump out of his throat. "it's, it's alright." his words came out weaker than he would've liked.

"are you sure si—"

"yes! yes! please give me that!" he couldn't help his sudden outburst, snatching the item from the poor lady's hands and running off in the opposite direction. he was dying from humiliation and his feet carried him like the wind over to you. he bit back tears as he faced you, bashfully showing you the receipt. it was times like this when he wishes he wasn't so tall, it would be so much easier to hide away in shame.

"what happened?" your introspective voice came through, he could hear your smirk.

"she saw the stain" he had to use all his willpower not to cry, hands clutching onto the shirt tightly. it was humiliating to admit, but a small part of him felt relief in his confession— as if the natural progression was for you to give him comfort and ease his anxieties.

"look at you soobin, so embarrassed and ashamed of your come stained shirt." you coo in your familiarly condescending yet comforting tone and he folds, nodding in agreement, tears brimming in his eyes. you rub his cheek, which was still red from the slap. it was such a surprisingly caring act that surprised both you and him, but he melted into your touch like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"you were so obedient bunny, let's go to the restaurant." he dumbly bobbed his head at the nickname. all he could think was how the humiliation was so worth the reward.

☆★☆

the cafe was packed, but it wasn't a big problem in the private booth. you tap your finger on the counter as you watch soobin go through the menu for the fifth time now. indecisive was his middle name.

"hurry up."

"what do you want?"

he's asked this for a millionth time now, could he really not decide without your input? the waiter has been standing there for a good minute. "dude, just choose what you want already. i'm getting impatient."

he purses his lips in clear panic, pointing to a random food item on the menu. "i'll, i'll have this!"

"an extra spicy jjamppong coming up." the waiter escapes quickly, leaving soobin with an exasperated and intimidated expression after having his order read out for him.

"what? loser can't handle spice?" you tease. he looks at you with a frown.

"i can eat spice!"

"right." the conversation ends there, but you weren't just going to just let him off like that. the table was so nicely set up after all, such a thick tablecloth.

"soobin, pull down your pants."

he immediately widens his eyes, looking around rapidly to see if anyone heard. "i, i don't know i,"

"calm down, no one can see under the tablecloth. pull it down." you rest your foot on his inner thigh, signalling to him. he lets out a shaky breath. your grin broadens as his hands travel down, shuffling his pants down to his knees. still paranoid, he takes another glance at the other customers.

you focus on something else entirely, your trailing foot to his exposed crotch to be exact. when the leather of your soles makes impact with his naked cock he wails before slapping a hand over his mouth. his thighs instinctively clamp around your foot, shivering and shaking his head. "mean, you're mean."

his bottom lip was quivering, thighs still clamped tightly as you pressed your foot down harder. "please." he whispers.

"hm?"

"please please ple—"

"here's your orders." the waiter interrupts with both of your orders, soobin glances at the man with terrified eyes, looking over at you in a silent prayer.

you smile graciously (you press harder on his cock) as you take the plates (his thighs shake and you rub your foot ever so slightly), what a nice waiter, of course, you had to start a conversation! (he tried to control his panting but his face was a scarlet red), turns out the waiter was born in japan, how very interesting (you start going in a circular motion and soobin nearly keens), his father met his mother during a road trip! (you knew from his expression that he was already leaking onto your shoes), wow and he's fluent in three languages (soobin's thighs are spasming and you were rubbing him hard, you can tell he couldn't hold it in anytime soon).

"it all started when i encountered a multilingual tourist as a child."

the conversation was a little redundant now, wasn't it? you were talking to the waiter, yet staring intensely at soobin in the eyes, a snicker on your lips. "come again?" you press down, and his body shudders, thighs so tightly squeezed around your foot it could almost cut circulation, he was curled in ever so slightly. shivering in the aftereffects of his second orgasm today.

"huh?" the confused tone of the waiter piques.

"nevermind, thank you for your time."

the waiter leaves, slightly befuddled by the conversation. while you turn your attention back to soobin who is breathing heavily with red-tinted cheeks. "wow, orgasming in a public space again, what a perv."

the words hit him hard in his chest and tears drop from his eyes, he could only let out a small 'sorry' in shame before dropping his head down. his sleeves come up to desperately wipe at his eyes and save some face, at least it was all over now and he could enjoy his meal in peace, hopefully!

"can... can i pull my pants back up now?"

"hmm can you?" you tease, and he pauses, unsure of how to approach the situation.

"can i please?" some begging would do the trick, right?

"you can if you jerk yourself off."

he pouts, and more tears drop on the table as he squeezes his thighs around your foot. but he obediently slides his hands down to try and make himself hard again. his cock was so so so sensitive to the sensation, but limp in his hands. it hurts to stroke, it hurts to touch. the longer it took for him to get it up the more he frowned and panicked.

finally, you had enough, you were just playing with him anyway, so you slide your foot off with a chuckle. he looks at you in confusion. "i was joking dumbass, put your pants back on."

you dig into your food, and soobin follows suit right after he shuffles his pants back on, looking up at you hesitantly. though the moment the food touched his tongue, all he could think was—spicy! now he was crying for an entirely different reason, he was never the strongest spice contender, and this was another league of spice.

you notice his discomfort, laughing when he ducks his head down. "too spicy?" "no..." he responds, surprisingly stubborn on this matter. he pettily eats another spoonful of noodles (swiftly to regret it). you just roll your eyes, watching him eat in amusement.

☆★☆

the date ended smoothly after, nothing else notable happened (other than some pervy touches and teasing from your side), back at your room again (it was a common occurrence for the two of you to stay in your room, he told you once he didn't enjoy staying in his home).

you flopped onto your bed while soobin shuffled in, putting his things neatly to the side and closing the door behind him. he stared at you as you typed messages to your friends (they had been filling up your notifications all day because you were ignoring them), he awkwardly stood near the foot of the bed.

"uhm, i, thank you, for today. i had fun." he starts bashfully.

"so you don't have fun with me every other day?" you deadpan and he stutters, being caught off guard.

"n—no that's, not what i—"

"i wasn't serious, idiot."

he shuts his mouth quickly, silent again and unsure of how to start up another conversation.

"god you're such a loser. look in that bag over there." you break the air, pointing to a grey bag you had been carrying for the whole day. he was curious about it but wasn't brave enough to ask. so when you gave him the go-ahead he didn't hesitate to dig his hand in. when he pulled out a box containing a figurine from his favourite anime, clear confusion was evident in his face.

"i didn't know you liked—"

"no shithead it's for you."

his mouth drops open, bunny-like eyes widening as your words start to register in his head. instantly he lights up visibly, smiling uncontrollably as he admires the figurine in his hands. it wasn't anything crazy, was rather affordable compared to the prices of other figurines, but soobin's heart soared at the gift and he felt like he was on cloud nine. you didn't pay attention to his reaction, or that's how it seemed, because you were secretly staring at every differing expression on his face.

"thank you... i, thank you so much..."

"it's not even a big deal, you're so dramatic."

but it was a big deal for soobin, he tenderly held the gift in his hands. this was the first time he's gotten anything from anyone other than his parents and occasionally aunt and uncle. it really did feel like the two of you were dating, even if nothing is official and the most accurate label on the relationship was 'bully and victim'.

"can i unwrap it?"

"i don't care."

he slowly unwraps the gift, taking the figurine out of the box carefully as he begins to admire all the details of the sculpture. you, on the other hand, admire him, no matter how much you deny it, there was something so addicting about both his happiness and pain. it hooked you on like a drug.

"sleep over."

he knew what you meant, in a seemingly harmless phrase. it often happened like this, an insignificant and passing statement. strange in retrospect, you were his bully and the door was right there, if soobin wanted to, he could make a run for it.

but the both of you knew he wouldn't. your attention was almost an obsession to him, no matter how good or bad.

"okay."

[rhenuvee]

Modern AU! Diluc who starts making videos on social media to promote the Angel’s Share by showing how he makes drinks- only to take a wrong turn when the comments end up being down bad for him.

This video makes me thirsty, and Im not talking about the drink.

Pls handle me like the cocktail shaker 🙏

Suddenly I have the urge to cook and clean 🛐

In case anyone asks, the drink is blue.

The drink in the video was orange, by the way- he caught on the implication of the commenters distraction very quickly. And worst of all, his brother Kaeya laughing at the whole situation in the comments, not helping at all.

“Listen to this one ‘Luc: ‘Who needs a napkin when I could be cleaning his hands’, drooling emoji.”

Your poor husband, can’t even look you in the eye anymore. His fingers had been pinching the crease between his eyebrows for a while now, a little embarrassed at the totally different response than expected from his audience. He can't believe the viewers are more interested in his forearms than drink making.

“Y-You’re not helping, my love.” He says. He's frustrated at the comments, but can't help the blush when you say something so desperate. You feel a little bad for adding fuel to the fire (secretly giggling along with Kaeya), but it’s tough when you can’t deny the truth in the comments paired with your husband’s cute reaction.

“Perhaps you just need to cover up a little.” You suggest. Yes, he thinks. His next short video has him wearing his long sleeve dress shirt and gloves, instead of rolling up the sleeves. He's got them now, Diluc thinks as he hopes for normal comments.

However, the viewers are quick to find another way to "simp" for your husband (which you had to teach him the meaning of). With his arms covered now, some comments expressed their disappointment. But most focused their attention on the reveal of skin of his neck and the slightest view of his collarbone.

"It's no use." Diluc grumbles after a long day, his head resting on your stomach, defeated. You smile, bringing your hand to comb through his fiery red hair.

"I can't disagree, you do have nice hands." You tease, referring to the previous video's comments. Diluc looks up at you from your stomach with an annoyed expression. "You're too handsome, my love."

Diluc flushes pink when he hears your compliment. You say it quite often, but he'll never get tired of it.

He feels as if there's no solution to this. Wear his wedding ring? People would probably still focus more on his fingers, or create more down bad comments on being married to him. Bring you into the video? He absolutely does not want people to comment on you. Get his father to make the drink instead? No- he remembers the time his father was in two seconds of a past video and caught mortifying comments of the word "Zaddy" being spammed along with a timestamp. It was quickly deleted. He knows the pattern.

"So what will you do, my handsome husband?" You ask, interrupting his train of thought. You calling him handsome twice was enough for him to take a deep breath before composing himself to answer you.

"I'm too tired to handle this anymore." He sighs. "Maybe I'll give this job to Kaeya, offer him free drinks."

"Bold move, but I like it." You reply. Though you can’t help but feel like Kaeya would meet the same fate.

As for the results of Kaeya's efforts, let's just say that free drinks were not enough to help combat the thirsty comments. The good news is, the Angel's Share social media continued to rise in popularity.

[signedeclipse]

Ooh, i found your page, and i saw your prompt post about the Multiple/All hashira have feelings for the reader who is the best swordsmith and all want their swords done by her, I think it be funny to also add Hotaru Haganezuka to the mix and him also being like "im not sharing my fellow Smith back off!" :D

I think all would be funny with all hashira, but anyone underage it's like I admire you and you are now my older sibling/parent now.

Giyuu | Gyomei | Mitsuri | Muichiro | Obanai | Sanemi | Shinobu [X Reader]

In which you are the best swordsmith, and the hashira you're assigned to adore you.

Giyuu

He never deserved any kind of special blade, special treatment, or anything above what the average person got

At least, thats how Giyuu thought about things

Recently, his swordsmith had retired, and while he had stated he didn't care who got the job, there was still pressure for him to pick since it was considered some kind of honour

During his visit to the village, he met you at an izakaya, where you were talking with the owner about your proposal for the 'hashira in town'

He felt bad for walking in, knowing you didn't intend for him to hear anything, so he immediately tried to hide in the corner and finish his food sooner

Unfortunately, the owner immediately pointed him out, and asked him to come over to talk to you

Both of you were red with embarrassment, and Giyuu had to insist you stop apologizing

You were nervous about talking about the design, but eventually he caught the gist that you wanted to repurpose another sword into his since older steel was more valuable

You'd clearly done your research because you knew of him and Sabito, and you offered to use Sabito's left-over ore to add to his for some more sentimental value

Giyuu was really keen about the idea, and before the choosing ceremony could occur, he presented himself to Lord Tecchin to request you become his permanent swordsmith

Gyomei

Nichirin blades were the most common weapon used by demon slayers

Gyomei had started with one, but he quickly found his attacks were focused on the impact, and less on the perfect point of precision

He needed something different, but he wasn't sure what

Being a bother was something he hated doing, but he took it upon himself to visit the swordsmith village so he could meet with Lord Tecchin

Even Tecchin was unsure, until one of his guards spoke about you, a budding swordsmith with a less traditional outlook on weapons

Gyomei was willing to try, and he was glad he did

You were a natural creative, he could hear your charcoal sketching along parchment even as it was hidden below melancholic humming

You were interested in his assessment of his inability to use nichirin to its best potential, and after considering several forms of weapons, you both landed on something that could act at various ranges

The flail was a deadly weapon on a stick, but you proposed keeping it on a chain would help him control it, since he could vary how much length he gave the flail to move

"It'll be heavy, though, and hard to know where it's going. How much can you lift?"

"Several thousand kilograms."

"Ah."

You were at a loss for words, but you took him seriously and began working

Gyomei actually had a hand in helping make them, because you could barely carry the flail moulds, let alone the finished product

You instructed his hands on how to feel the weapon, gave him suggestions on use, and described its appearance so he could adjust the colours as he liked

Your patience was appreciated, and Gyomei took it upon himself to make sure you were treated extremely well after the week of gruelling work

Mitsuri

Mitsuri had a very special blade

It needed to be thin enough to bend, but thick enough to remain still when not moving

The only person who had ever managed this perfect precision was Lord Tecchin, but as he grew older, the task became harder

So, there was a contest for a replacement; anyone who wanted to could join

You were intrigued by the idea, but you'd had trouble in the past with your experimental blades, so much so that some friends of yours suggested you leave yourself out

But you wanted to give it a try, besides, you'd heard great things about the love Hashira, and you were sure she wouldn't be mean about it if it didn't meet her standards

Your best idea was to use something other than the scarlet ore to give it further reinforcement, so you created an alluminium-steel alloy that could be coated in scarlet ore by melting the scarlet crimson Iron Sand, which was more flexible than the ore

It resulted in a long, thin, and sturdy blade that could handle nearly triple the force of its original, though it wasn't as flexible as before

On the day of the contest, Mitsuri was extremely interested in your process, and you got to see your creation in its moving form for the first time

Mitsuri was extremely talented, and she had no problem bending the sword with her whipped movements

As it turns out, she had to be careful with her previous swords because she had gotten too strong for them and they got too loose

You easily won, and Mitsuri was beyond joyed to know her swordsmith was not only talented, but also extremely pretty!

She's always sketching herself with her sword on the letters she sends to you and often inviting you out to eat

Expect a lot of recipes sent your way, and a lot of sweet messages detailing how excited she is to see you again

Muichiro

Swords were the least of his concerns when it came to slaying demons

They should always be perfect, always kill without getting in his way; he shouldn't have to ever think about it

But after his run-in with Tanjiro and his previous swordsmith passing away, the concerns bubbled up

He didn't have time to spend waiting on some smith to make something comparable to what he wielded, he needed something just as good, if not better

So the search began, and of course, your name popped up a lot when he'd ask who was 'the best'

You were young, close to his age, and you were hard at work when he found you

Muichiro ignores every craftsman sword hung upon your wall, disregards every talent, and demands you take him on

But stubborn meets stubborn, and when you say no, hes taken back

What do you mean 'no'? Do you have any idea how much of a speck you are compared to him?

The challenge you present nags at him, and he decides youre not worth it; he can always ask someone else

But the idea of anything less than perfect, the annoyance of you denying him, it manages to peer through the mind fog several times to the point of annoyance

Fine, he'll say please and apologize, because your craftsmanship is worth it

When he does get his sword, he's even more irked that it never so much as scratches, and works extremely hard to try and break it just so he can tell everyone you aren't as good as they say

It never happens

Obanai

No one could get his concept right

A lot of people thought he wanted what Mitsuri had, which he thought was extremely well crafted, but it wasn't exactly what he needed

Mitsuri had the arm strength to handle a weapon that long and precise, but he needed something smaller, more sturdy, but with 'joints' of weakness

His concept was rejected by many, and his frustration was beginning to boil

When you came up to him, requesting to make it, he had already given up and mentioned he was leaving soon, and not to bother him

Even after leaving the village and resigning into using the typical blade, he was surprised when you found your way all the way out to his mission point just to deliver him a weapon he never asked for

He didn't like that someone had intruded on his mission, but when you were both attacked and he had a chance to use it, he had a hard time being mad

The weak points of the weapon started far apart and got closer together near the top, giving the blade a wave-like appearance that certainly looked odd

But when moved with enough force and velocity, the joints could be bent further to reach around corners in odd ways, following his movements with a latency that let him fit it through impossible holes and bends

It was everything he was looking for and more, considering he only proposed two joints and you'd delivered nearly twenty in a blade as short as seventy centimetres

Hes impressed, but hes still mad you made this journey and put yourself in danger, so of course he is going to take you all the way back to the village

Personally

With no one else

And listen to you talk the whole time

Yea

Sanemi

Sure, swords were important, but he didn't give them much thought

He was always getting new ones because his always chipped, snapped, and scratched with all the force he was putting on them

The blades were built for flesh, but he didn't care, he practiced cutting rocks and throwing the blade like it was some kind of toy

Eventually, his destructive tendancy drove his swordsmith to quitting, as many others had, and he was once again called into the village to find another

The choosing ceremony was skipped with him, since it often ended up with him insulting everyone and picking the person who cried the least

So now he just went from workshop to workshop, looking at what people could offer

Your workshop looked the newest, with freshly varnished wood and some construction materials still left on the side of the den you worked out of

It was just you in the workshop, with new bulletin boards already covered in sketches and schematics, and a shelf of ores labelled by size, strength, and purity

Sanemi figured since you were new, you'd take longer to break and give up, so he resigned to Lord Tecchin whom he had picked and challenged you to have it done by the next day

It was an impossible challenge, but that was the point

Even so, the next day you were at his door by the crack of dawn, not one, but two identicle blades ready for him to retrieve

They were perfect, left matte instead of shining, and sharp enough to cut a perfect lien through the most delicate and loose fabric

Sanemi hated to admit it, but he appreciated that you'd at least already prepared him a replacement

When he tried them out for the first time, he finds they last a lot longer, and it takes him several months for a chip to occur in it

Even then, he has a second one, so for the first time in years, he's been away from the village for more than six months

You're not perfect, but you're certainly good, and he's thrilled to see what more you can do with a few more years of practice

Shinobu

When Shinobu first started toying with the idea of wisteria poison as an effective killing method, the hardest part was figuring out how to apply it to a blade

Injection was most effective, but needles were chunky and harder to get into demons campared to something broad like a nichirin blade

So she was reffered to you, and you drafted up several ideas that you felt she might enjoy

Other swordmen felt it was an insult to the dark, to remove the central half of the blade, but it was the easiest way for her to have something light without shortening the blade or thinning it out and risking it snapping

The planning resulted in a very unique blade but an even more unique sheath

Shinobu hadn't asked, but you lined it with a spongy fabric so that she could fill it with the poison and automatically apply itself along the blade

It had a drain, anti-microbial and anti-rusting additions, and a beautiful handpainted pattern along its outside.

The amount of thought you put into it really astonished her, and while she never had issues with the design, Shinobu made sure to have a bi-annual trip to visit you

Along with the many letters she would send with news and treats from the butterfly mansion

Being able to share her experiences with you with other hashira or corps members gives her a sense of pride, especially when she gets to show off something she used to view as a sign of weakness

Authors Note - I have wanted to write this prompt for SO LONG!! Its a lot of characters, so I apologize but I left out Uzio, Kyojuro, and Haganezuka to focus on those I had the most ideas for!

Thank you for requesting, anon!

[riiwrites]

boyfriend!dazai who…

a/n : for my love @perfectlyjollyland who requested this ages ago but i didn’t see until recently because i only pay attention to my inbox! im so sorry ill be checking comments too next time, hope you’re well! <3

a/n : also i hope you’re okay with the pre-boyfriend/before boyfriend part, i just thought that’d be cute i love lovesick!dazai sooo much.. more boyfriend dazai under the cut!!

chuuyas version | atsushis version

dividers used belong to @/benkeibear

masterlist | taglist | main page

pre-boyfriend!dazai who at the start asks you for a double suicide (as per usual), but when you give him the cutest smile and giggle and say no, he knows he’s too deep in now.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who becomes head over heels when he first meets you and now has a new mission, making you reciprocate those feelings.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who loves the cliches, the random ‘anonymous’ love notes on your desk when you’re at work or the random flowers delivered to your workplace/home - he loves it all.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who respects your boundaries if you were to tell him to lay off or if he was making you uncomfortable.

pre-boyfriend!dazai who finally gives up..gives up throwing hints and just decides to take his shot.

“So..say, if a handsome stranger who’s kind of not a stranger since you know him as an acquaintance asks you out because he’s given up with all of the deadpanned hints he’s been giving you for the past few months but he’s kind of scared of being rejected..what would you say?”

You stare him with a few blinks as he looks at you with a great smile on his face, although you can see subtle drops of sweat dripping down the side of his temple.

"..Is this said handsome stranger you, perchance?”

Dazai let’s out a single laugh, placing his hands on his hips.

“Ha! How bold of you, though..I am charmed your first thought of this handsome stranger would be me, bella~” He coyly smirks, closing his eyes in what you can’t tell is either pride or suspense.

You furrow your eyebrows with a little smile, fixing up your paperwork as you place them on the desk. “No, I just figured since it was you who’s been leaving such persistent and eager notes on my desk as of late.”

You watch his expression slightly change as he lets out a cough of embarrassment, locking eyes with you now.

“Well..” He starts, then gives up halfway through.

“..Is it a yes?”

pre-boyfriend!dazai who not only is taken by surprise by your response, but his heart does a few jumps in joy as his efforts became a success, making him now your boyfriend.

boyfriend!dazai who has his hand down your back pocket whenever you two are walking together.

boyfriend!dazai who’s love language is both physical touch and acts of service, always having his hands on you in the littlest way and also providing the most he can to his s/o.

boyfriend!dazai who has the reputation of being quite the flirtatious one, gives it up to his precious s/o.

boyfriend!dazai who googles cheesy and dirty pickup lines to try and rizz you with, always ending them in a winky face.

boyfriend!dazai who sends you little messages every day now that he has your number, little words of affirmations and talks to get you ready for your days.

boyfriend!dazai who if he had a tiktok account he’d make slideshows of you two and repost videos of couples relating to you two.

boyfriend!dazai who you spend all of your holidays with, especially christmas and new years.

boyfriend!dazai who practically lives at your house now, but nobody’s complaining.

boyfriend!dazai who has a box of every little thing you’ve given him, so when he’s feeling down he can look at it and smile.

boyfriend!dazai who tries to keep you away from his past, to protect you from the ugly truth.

boyfriend!dazai who opens up about oda, not all of it but most of it since he believes oda would’ve liked you.

boyfriend!dazai who takes you to the places he has the fondest memories in. the lupin bar, the art gallery, the agency.

boyfriend!dazai who appreciates the little things, as he’s not someone who can afford much he tries to give you the best he can.

boyfriend!dazai who always argues that he loves you more trying to get the last word and when you think you have it, you hear a little mumble of “I love you more” as you walk away.

boyfriend!dazai who loves your hands, tracing the lines of your palm and fingers and creating little shapes on them makes him feel at peace.

boyfriend!dazai who can be possessive but in a good way, he has good reasons to be possessive.

boyfriend!dazai who when he sees someone give you a half lidded smirk or bedroom eyes, he gives them a deadly stare that could imprint on their skull as he wraps an arm around your waist.

boyfriend!dazai who constantly babbles on about you at work with the agency, always telling Atsushi about the cutest things that you did the night before or what you did the day before that.

“Ahh..and the way they just clench their fists at their sides when they are angry with me! Ah~ I could melt..”

“That’s..really nice, Dazai-san..”

“Oh! And the way they grab my hand so tightly when we’re in public ahhh~ I could melt!”

“D-dazai-san..-“

“Ahhh, and the way the-“

boyfriend!dazai who ends up with about 14 wounds all over his body because of kunikidas beatings..kunikida says he’s lucky it wasn’t 15.

boyfriend!dazai who you take care of at his lowest.

boyfriend!dazai who sometimes can’t understand why you put up with him, but you reassure him with words and kisses all over his face.

boyfriend!dazai who peppers your face with kisses back and gives you a small smile despite how sad he can feel.

boyfriend!dazai who watches the fireworks with you and doesn’t think of going out just as beautifully because why would he let such a precious thing slip out of his hands like that?

boyfriend!dazai who doesn’t care about himself or his mental health, but cares the most about yours.

boyfriend!dazai who once felt like he was drowning, but then found his light to the surface who has a smile of diamonds and a heart of gold.

TAGLIST : @hauntedsol @hopefulpain @forgotten-blues @ruru-kiss @texas-bitch-yee @lvstyangel @thetizzler @is-therelife-onmars @atlasnessie @101strawberries101 @reesesnieces @suzurans-world @mackereland-slug @heartsfourdazai @iratherowan @onlinewhisper14 @nomnomventi

white = unable to be tagged :(

@/riiwrites - reblogs are highly appreciated ❤︎︎

[nadvs]

i have loved your work for some time now and you always outdone yourself with every new thing you write. im obsessed with the sleeping with the enemy blurbs🤍🤍

can i request rafe getting into a fight because he heard someone talking bad about reader and he goes to her dorm and she cleans him up and he doesn't confess what happened because she would mock him or something like that?

YOU’RE SO SWEET OH MY GOSH THANK YOU 😭 i loved writing the one-shot and i’m so pleasantly surprised and touched that so many readers like the au!! tysm i love this request!!

based on this fic

before he knows it, rafe’s knuckles are pulsating with a sharp ache. it all happened so fast.

he’s at a bar off campus. he’s painfully sober. his team lost at an embarrassing margin today. and then, he heard one of the guys who’s dating a girl on his team’s cheerleading squad shit-talking his best friend.

he called her an attention whore. said she purposely hikes up her skirt when she dances at games and will say yes to any guy who asks for ‘you know what’.

rafe knows the truth. this guy likely got caught looking at her by his girlfriend and is now overcompensating by saying how gross the hawks’ cheerleader is.

even though his words were bullshit, they were more than enough for rafe to start swinging. unfortunately, his victim had friends near by. they got a few punches in. then he got kicked out of the bar.

at this point, she’s the only person who can make him feel better. so, he’s knocking on her door soon after. he invited her out tonight, but she told him she’s staying in to study.

she gasps when she opens the door and sees him holding a red stained tissue up against his mouth.

“what the fuck…” she breathes. “are you okay?”

before he can answer, she pulls him in by the crook of his elbow and guides him to sit on her desk, pushing her textbooks away.

she lowers his hand, eyes worryingly searching his face.

“how much does it hurt?” she says with a wince.

“it’s not that bad,” he says. it’s true. the adrenaline hasn’t worn off yet, but he’s sure he’ll be bruised up and sore tomorrow. “but i fucked up my hand.”

she looks down at him flexing his hand. his knuckles are red and swollen. she holds his hand in hers, her skin warm and soft, and shakes her head.

“shit,” she whispers. “i’ll be right back.”

she rushes out to the bathroom and comes back with paper towels, some damp and some dry. then, she pours him some water from her mini-fridge and puts a bottle of painkillers beside him on the desk.

rafe watches her in awe as she scrambles to help. he’s not sure he’s ever had someone be this worried about him. this determined to make him feel better.

he keeps his hands on his lap as she leans forward, dabbing the damp paper against his skin.

“lay it on me,” she says quietly. “and spare no details.”

rafe already rehearsed this in the car. he hates to lie to her considering the fact that honesty is basically the cornerstone of their friendship. but repeating what that jackass at the bar said is a waste of breath. it’ll just hurt her. he can’t hurt her.

“some guy was talking shit about the game,” he fibs.

“sorry. it was a rough one tonight,” she says. “last thing you needed was that.”

he had a game at a college an hour away tonight, so she had a stream of it playing as she studied. she watches his games whenever she can.

rafe is an amazing player. she never followed or cared this much about the career of any athlete she dated. and she’s not even dating him.

“it was bullshit,” he mutters.

“it was,” she agrees. she slowly runs the dry paper towel over where she moistened his cheek. “how many times did they rebound foul? i actually lost count.”

“exactly,” he says.

“and if i’m out of line, fine,” she continues, “but what the hell was morrow doing? was he tired? he was practically handing them opportunities.”

rafe nods. he laid into eddie morrow, his team’s small forward, for his shitty defensive transitions tonight.

“he told me he had a bad sleep,” rafe scoffs.

“great excuse,” she breathes. she straightens, looking at his cleaned up face.

it gives him an opportunity to stare at her. she’s so casual about it all. how quickly she swept in to clean him up. how much she knows about the game he lives and breathes. how beautiful she is.

how could anyone say anything bad about this woman?

“you’re a little swollen but still pretty, for what it’s worth,” she says with a smile. “i just hope your hand’s okay in time for your next game.”

even if it isn’t, rafe knows that punching someone for shit-talking her was worth it.

“take one if you want,” she tells him, picking up the bottle of painkillers. “get ahead of the pain.”

he pops a painkiller and gulps down the water she poured him.

“you wanna hang out here while i study?” she asks. “my room is way more exciting than some bar.”

she’s being sarcastic, but honestly, hanging out with her does sound like more fun than going out.

“sure,” he says simply. he’s exhausted. and being here feels good.

throughout the evening, rafe lies on her bed, scrolling on his phone while she studies at her desk. every so often, they fall into easy conversation. but it’s no surprise. everything between them is so effortless.

eventually, he starts dozing off and is about to stand to leave, but she tells him he can just pass out in her bed.

as rafe falls into his slumber, smelling her on her pillow, he tiredly mumbles that he wishes he met her sooner. she turns to look at him in surprise, feeling butterflies over his words when she knows she shouldn’t feel that way about her friend. his eyes are already shut.

he falls asleep thinking about how good she smells. she continues to study thinking about how nice is to have him around.

[crispywaffles2]

hii, may I request macaque, wukong, and MK (seperately) x reader who likes to put ribbon bows on their tails? Thought it would be a cute idea ^_^

Hii!! Thank you so much for the request, this is such a cute thing to think about! I hope you enjoy! EDIT: I FORGOT TO WRITE MK IN THIS AS WELL, IM SO SORRY 😭

Macaque, Mk & Wukong With an S/O who likes to decorate their tails!

Wukong:

Wukong is most certainly confused by your strange habit

If you were to ask him to put a ribbon or bow on his tail, he'd give you a strange look

"A bow? Well... uh, sure bud!"

It doesn't really match his whole "Great Sage Equal to Heaven" schtick in his opinion

What would formidable enemies think if he went into battle with a cutesy bow on his tail??

His monkeys most certainly make fun of him for it, much to his dismay

He wouldn't wear it if he was about to go into battle or leave his mountain at first, because if his monkeys make fun of it who knows who else will do the same?

Eventually he'll warm up to it

If you tie a little orange ribbon at the end of his tail trust and believe he will be working it with pride

"Oooh, I like this color! Goes well with my fur,"

He'd start longingly staring at the sweet ribbons you tie on his tail whenever you're not around and he misses you because they remind him of you

He'll start wearing them out in public with a bit less shame, happily flicking his tail in peoples faces

"Look! My partner gave it to me, isn't it so cute?"

And he'll start wearing them in battles too!

Having a little piece of you there with him gives him just a little bit of an extra boost and reminds him of all of the things he's fighting for

Now he likes to think they go well with his personality

"Great Sage Equal to Heaven" whos not afraid to have a bit of a cutesy accessory while he kicks butt

If you're more sneaky with their placement though, that's a whole other story

He's out enjoying a nice bowl of noodles with his favorite mentor, only mentor honestly, and he hears them chuckle and point at his tail while uttering the words "Nice bow Monkey Princess,"

His face goes bright red and he quickly curls his tail around his leg to hide the thoughtfully tied ribbon from view

"Yeah, so what?! Maybe I was just feelin' a bit more elegant today, you ever think about that?"

But as soon as he bids Mk adieu he's right at your doorstep with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his face

An embarrassed scolding is in order for you, that's for sure

"Hun, you know I love you, but you can't just tie ribbons on my tail like that! Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was when my mentor called me a princess?!"

Eventually he relents and you two end up in a hug, his go-to when reassuring you that he's not mad or he's sorry

"Just don't do it without telling me. Next time I could be faced with Macaque, and you know how he is."

All in all it takes him a bit of time to warm up to it, but after that he'll flaunt them, and you, with confidence

Macaque:

Macaque is a lot more reluctant than his sunny counterpart

He has a tough bad boy image to uphold, why on Earth would he let you bedazzle him with your silly ribbons and bows?

"A bow? No thanks darlin'."

It takes lots of begging and whining before he caves in, and even then he refuses to go out in them

You couldn't waterboard the information out of him, but when you finish carefully tying up the little red ribbon on the end of his tail he's in love

It goes well with his cape and adds a sort of air of sophistication onto his overall demeanor

It's probably just the inner drama queen in him speaking but it makes him feel weirdly fancy and extravagant

But again, he's not going to tell you that

He won't protest as much when you tie them on

Will suggest different colors and ways to tie the ribbons

"Why don't we try purple this time? No it's not because I care about what it looks like- it was just a suggestion!"

Sometimes he tries to put them on himself because he's embarrassed to ask you, but he quickly figured out that he cannot tie bows for the life of him

And even if he learns, they're just not the same as yours

He will eventually come around to the idea of wearing them in public

He keeps his ribbon clad tail hidden beneath his cape most of the time unless he's feeling particularly confident or he wants to show it off on purpose

If anyone has the gall to try and make fun of it he's quick to shoot them down

"Yeah I have a bow on my tail, my partner gave it to me. Aww, don't tell me you don't have a partner of your own? Is that why you think you're funny? Because you don't have anyone at home to tell you you're not?"

He warms up to the idea so much that he begins to regularly ask you to decorate his tail with multiple bows and ribbons

One time, as a silly joke, you tied a particularly big red bow at the base of his tail and jokingly told him he looked like a show cat

It was a funny joke, but Macaque really really liked it

So much so that he wore it regularly, asking you to tie it on for him every time he went out

If you were to be sneaky and tie it on his tail without him knowing well..

He's actually not that upset

He's hanging out with Mei, probably the one he likes and relates to the most out of everyone, when she giggles and points at his tail, calling him 'coquette' or something

He's not sure what that term means, but he does find the fact that a little pink bow being tied on his tail without his knowledge to be amusing

Just for funsies he keeps it on all day

If and when he decides to go visit the culprit, which he knows is you, he playfully chides you

"Alright sugarplum, you know I have an image to uphold! You can't just slip little pretty pink bows on my tail without my permission!"

Once you two have had a good laugh he just chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead

All in all he really likes the bows that you decorate him with and takes it as a sign of affection, but it takes a long time for him to be open about it

Mk:

Mk in his monkey form is certainly.. something

He can't quite control himself in that form yet, but that isn't to say that he's constantly violent

He just doesn't know his own strength

With his monkey form more stern and serious, he doesn't hold back, he's blunt

And, completely unrelated, his voice is like two octaves deeper

He's scared he might hurt you, or the people he cares about, so he rarely ever uses it unless he's in battle or training

In hopes of making him more comfortable and as a way of letting him know that you're okay with this side of himself, you began tying bows on the end of his tail

He's not sure how to feel about the idea at first

"Tying.. bows? Sure, I guess.."

He doesn't know if you don't take him seriously or if you're just trying to be sweet

He's still getting used to having a tail, so sometimes it gets caught on things, which will occasionally lead to your ribbons getting torn

It makes him feel horrible for some reason, and he's always presenting the torn fabric to you like it's the remains of a dead soldier or something

"I'm so sorry. It was an accident, I promise,"

He's not against wearing them out in public (not that he ever goes in public with his monkey form)

If it's after a battle and someone were to say anything about his bow he'd hardly care

"Looks like we got a funny guy over here everyone!"

And everyone in the vicinity glares at them

Much like his mentor, he slowly starts seeing the bows less as just some silly accessory on his tail and more as a subtle reminder of you

Whenever he's in his monkey form he makes sure to come to you for a bow

"I'm feeling kinda red-ish today, what do you think?"

Your plan works, and he starts feeling better about his over powered simian side

You love him no matter what, freakishly strong or just a silly delivery boy, and the bows are just a testament to that

All in all, he finds them adorable, and what they represent fuel him to fully embrace this side of himself in order to protect the people he cares about

[sugrhigh]

TOUCH IT - ( c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- you and chris have never gotten along, despite your close relationship with his two brothers. you find out that’s he’s been messing with your love life behind your back, and all hell breaks loose. you both exchange many hurtful pranks, until you take it too far and chris shows up at your place

warnings- SMUT W/ A PLOT (enemies to lovers), virgin!reader x playboy!chris, cursing, you know the drill

a/n: it’s been forever, but i have returned!! thank you for waiting and i truly hope this makes up for my absence. to the nonnie who requested this im praying it meets expectations lol. my inbox is always open for reqs, comments, sweet nothings, etc <3

@fawnchives @l9vesick @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @lovesodakid @mattslolita @sturniolopepsi @boywonderblogs @cherrypostsposts @iprk90 @bxbynyah7 @mbbsgf @zivall @slut4chriss @sturniolossss @sturnslcver @k111rby @vsangel-starbies @ginswife @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturngirly @faygo-frog @s8nshines @bellasashylegs @mattsbbg @sturnlova @huntiesworld @cthasia @mattybsbitch @justalittle47 @ponyosturniolo @goldengrapejuice @matthewsturniolosactualgf @lustfulslxt @kenzieiskoolaid @ryli3sworld @c6ina @mcdonaldscocacola @venusvonlaw

your sniffles fill the living room, a pathetic sound that continues as you wipe at your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. well, it’s actually nick’s sweatshirt, and even though you’re getting your makeup all over it, he feels so terrible that he doesn’t mind.

“i don’t understand, you guys. why would he blow me off after we already went on three really good dates?” you question, voice cracking in hurt.

nick shakes his head solemnly, rubbing your arm to try and console you. “because he’s a fucking loser. i know it sucks, but i promise you this is for the best. now you don’t have to waste any more time on that dick.”

you just sigh. he’s right, but that doesn’t make you feel any less embarrassed. being stood up is a hit to the self-esteem, especially when you get all dressed up to wait around outside the restaurant like an idiot and have your best friends pick you up an hour later.

and after years of being on the sidelines, of watching everyone around you date and fall in love, you have to admit that you really thought something was growing. you thought it was your turn.

meeting wes was like a breath of fresh air, and after a few very promising initial hangouts, you figured this might finally be it. a cute guy with similar interests who actually seemed to like you.

but you suppose you guessed wrong.

“he was so sweet though, and that’s why i’m confused. the guy i thought that i was going out with would have never done that.” you reason, more with yourself than with him.

matt huffs from the other side of you, pushing his hair back on his forehead. “don’t cut him any slack. if he was even halfway decent he would’ve been open and communicated with you.”

another truth bomb that only further ruptures your heart. you know they’re trying to help, even though nothing about this is making you feel any better.

the whole thing is a disaster, though you should have known better. your entire love life has always been a mess. but each time you meet someone new and start to fall, you’re hopeful that it’ll be different.

“i just want to know what i did.” you mutter, sniffling again to try and stop your runny nose.

before either of them can respond, a loud bang erupts out from the kitchen and infiltrates the moment. you flinch, snapping your head in the direction of the noise just to meet a pair of icy eyes.

it’s chris, because of course he has to see you like this, at your literal lowest point. he’s got a small pot in hand as he stares you down, somehow managing to look both annoyed and indifferent at the same time.

“what are you whining about this time?” he asks, turning his back to you so he can set the pot on the stove and switch on the burner.

“be nice, chris. she’s having a rough night.” nick tells his brother, who doesn’t heed the warning in the slightest.

instead he just spins around to face the three of you once more, a small (but still smug) smile lighting up his face.

“oh, you had a date with that idiot wesley didn’t you? how did it go?”

chris poses it as a question, but you see right through him. his sarcastic tone indicates that he already knows how it went, considering your mascara is streaked under your bloodshot eyes and you’re in nick’s clothes rather than your own outfit.

but still, you find yourself giving him an answer, though it’s followed up by an interrogation of your own. “he didn’t show. you happen to know anything about that?”

he shrugs, reaching to open the pantry and grab some pasta. “nope.”

“bullshit.”

it flies out of your mouth before you truly think about it, but you’re kind of happy you spoke up for once. you know he’s hiding something, and you deserve the whole truth.

“what is that supposed to mean?” he narrows his eyes, like he’s challenging you to say more.

“it means you’re lying right to my face. what did you do?” you question further, even though you’re not entirely sure you want the answer.

chris gnaws on his cheek, trying to decide how much to tell you. and then he remembers that his brothers are in the room, and that he’d never be caught dead admitting to any sort of vulnerability, so his mouth starts running without a second thought.

“oh, that? yeah, i ran into wes the other day at the gym.” he shrugs simply, like that explains it all.

you rise to your feet, legs far ahead of your brain as you charge in his direction. “what the fuck did you say, chris?”

he’s surprised by your temper considering you’re usually so mild-mannered, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to stand down. instead, he straightens to puff his chest out, crossing his arms in a defensive stance.

“i told him the truth. that you’re a prude, and that you’ll never let him hit no matter how many amazing dates you go on.”

your mouth falls open and you stop in your tracks, just a few feet from him now. there’s no softness in his eyes; he’s completely shut down, focused on upholding the facade.

never in a million years did you expect him to throw your inexperience back at you as an insult, no matter how much you both disliked each other.

you’re pretty sure you hear both matt and nick gasp lightly from the living room, completely taken aback by their brothers brazenness. you can’t blame them. you’re almost not sure how to react, or what to say. almost.

“you’re gonna regret the day you ever fucked with me, christopher sturniolo. i can promise you that.”

and you kept that promise.

“are you fucking kidding me?” you hear him roar from somewhere upstairs.

you immediately smile, munching on your breakfast (even though it’s noon) in the kitchen. nick looks over from beside you with wide eyes, and then takes notice of your satisfied expression.

“what did you do?” he asks in a hushed voice as you hear chris come bounding down the stairs.

you shrug and turn to look over your shoulder at the man of the hour. he’s shirtless, hair tussled from sleep with his sweats hanging low on his waist, and he’s waving around a pair of his boxers. it’s one of the expensive ones that you know is now completely destroyed thanks to your doing.

“really? cutting out a hole in all of my underwear?” chris snaps at you, tossing them at your feet because he doesn’t know what else to do.

it’s a dick hole, to be specific. they’re completely in tact aside from the gaping space where it’s supposed to protect his manhood.

“figured it would help save time since you wanna fuck everything that moves.” you say, taking a satisfying bite of your bacon as you study him with a smirk.

nick lets out a laugh, because he knows that chris honestly deserves it after his asshole behavior towards you a few days ago.

you’d been strong, pretending it didn’t phase you as much as it really had whenever you were hanging out with them. but it was beyond messed up, and neither of the boys could understand why their brother would go to that extent just to sabotage your relationship.

“better than being a stuck-up virgin who thinks she’s smarter than she is.” he growls in return, and there’s a mean look in his eyes.

you know he’s trying to hurt you, but he’s once again tossing your innocence around like a dig, which is what offends you the most considering it’s a deep-rooted insecurity.

and you hate that he’s still being malicious while he looks so damn heavenly standing across from you, his bare chest heaving in anger. it makes your stomach flip uncomfortably.

you don’t know if you’re sick with rage or sick with desire.

definitely rage, right?

“i’d rather be selective than completely ran through.” you hurl another diss at him, which he just scoffs at.

“you think you’re so fucking clever, don’t you? how many other times have you snuck into my room while i’m sleeping?” chris questions, taking a singular step forward.

he’s towering over you as you sit at the table, but you don’t let it intimidate you like he wants. instead, you say the one thing that you know he won’t expect.

“how many times have you thought about taking me in there yourself, huh?” you accuse him harshly.

your words hang in the air, and the tension is palpable. his lips part in shock, and you watch the blush creep up his neck to his face because he can’t count on both hands how much he’s pictured you in his bed.

you’re also stunned by his reaction, but you try not to show it. you expected him to tell you how wrong you are, how he would never touch you in a million years.

but he doesn’t.

“jesus, what did i just walk in to?” matt grumbles as he trudges past his brother into the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

chris answers before you can. “nothing, she’s just being insane.”

“i’m sure whatever she did was reasonable after that douchebag comment you made the other day.” he replies easily, and your heart swells at the fact that he came to your defense.

you know it puts your two best friends in a tough situation considering you’re constantly bickering with their brother, but it’s nice to know they have your back on this.

“fine. i don’t fucking need this from all three of you anyways.” chris’s frown deepens as he turns on his heel to head back upstairs.

part of you feels a bit bad as you watch him go, but the overwhelming sensation that takes over is pride. you finally fought back, and you may have actually ended it.

well, that’s what you thought anyways, but you find that you’re once again wrong.

on your way back from the triplets house two days later, you were honked at eight separate times. you started keeping track.

the first instance scared the absolute shit out of you, because you thought you were about to get into an accident or something. your hand had flown to your chest, a loud curse leaving your mouth as your other palm gripped the wheel.

and then it happened again, and again, and many more times after that. you were pretty sure there was something written into the grime on your back window, but you couldn’t read it no matter how hard you tried.

you’re enraged by the time you park at your place, tearing out of the driver's seat to go look. you pull out your phone and tap the flashlight on, illuminating the hidden message.

honk if u think im a SLUT

you press your shaky fingers to your mouth, completely embarrassed by the fact that you’d been driving around like this and by the fact that so many people had essentially called you a whore.

what a stupid prank, considering you had almost crashed your car over it. you grab a napkin from your center console and wipe it all away, grumbling under your breath about how much you hate chris the whole time.

you stalk into your little ground-level apartment, slamming the front door shut behind you. by the time you’ve kicked off your shoes and made it to your bedroom you’ve worked yourself into a fit.

you whip your phone back out and find yourself pulling up his contact despite how much you don’t want to hear his cocky remarks.

but it’s ringing regardless, and he picks up on the second one. he was expecting the call, anxiously awaiting your reaction because he knew it would piss you off enough to talk to him.

“hey.” chris says simply, smiling to himself as he leans back in the rolling chair in his room.

“you’re a fucking idiot, you know that? and also a raging hypocrite while we’re at it. am i a prude or a slut, chris?” you lash out immediately, pacing around your room because you can’t seem to sit down.

“you’re a slutty prude.” he replies, and you can literally hear the smirk in his voice.

“and you’re just a little bitch. you love to act like you’re so tough, but i think you’re the weakest person i know by far. always too scared to say what you really mean.” your words are sharp yet fluid, as if they’re coming from someone besides yourself.

there’s a pause, just for a brief second, and you wonder what’s going through his head. you don’t know what’s going through your own anymore.

the line crackles and he sucks in a breath, re-arming himself to continue this brawl.

“you want me to say what i mean? i think you love riding on your high horse, pretending that you’re better than everyone else. like you’re so pure. but really you’re just needy and desperate, hoping someone will come along and fuck you right.”

your mouth is suddenly completely dry, trying to process what he even means while also coming up with a quick response.

“you think about people fucking me a lot? or do you think about you fucking me a lot?” you ask a beat later, bringing back the conversation from the other day.

he feels the blood rush to his dick, which stiffens against his sweats from this kind of talk with you. he’s only ever imagined it in his dreams.

“you wish it was me, don’t you sweetheart? taking it slow, making you weak.” he mutters, and you feel yourself throb from his words alone.

you hate how much it turns you on, thinking about chris completely having his way with you. you can feel the butterflies erupt in your stomach, pattering through your gut and up to your chest.

“you gonna come do something about it or are you just gonna keep talking shit?” you call him out.

he sucks in a breath, completely hard now from your alluring voice and the context of your words.

there’s nothing he wants more than to sprint to your house and spread you out on your bed, to show you what real pleasure is all about. but there’s so many underlying problems, one of which is the fact that his brothers are best friends with you.

there’s a lot to ruin, even though he knows he already destroyed any chance of a real relationship between the two of you the second he met you. but still, being honest means things will change, and that scares him.

so he pulls the phone away from his ear and hangs up.

for a second you don’t even realize, and then the ending tone alerts you that he’s not waiting to respond, he’s just a fucking jerk. you can’t believe he ended the call so abruptly, like it didn’t phase him at all.

your legs are shaky as you throw yourself down into bed, ignoring the chill you still feel creeping across your body from the conversation.

he won’t get the last laugh. you won’t let him.

chris thinks about you the most at night. it’s hardest to get you out of his head when he’s alone in his room, just like he is now, watching tv to try and drown out his overactive mind. he hasn’t seen you in a few days, which is unusual, and he doesn’t like to admit it but he misses you.

you’re the reason he’s scrolling through instagram in the first place, aimlessly liking girls' photos just to try and convince himself that he’s interested in other people.

but he’s not. he hasn’t been in a long time, because he knew almost immediately that you’re everything he’s ever wanted, which was only confirmed as you continued to stick around. the thought alone was terrifying.

so he pushed you, and pushed you, and pushed you, ensuring that you’d steer clear of him. it just seemed easier, though it’s proving to be quite the opposite.

he’s just about to turn to video games for saving when his phone goes off in his hand. it’s a text from a girl he met over a week ago at a party, who had come back to spend the night with him.

and she’s asking if he has chlamydia.

the question is followed by a screenshot, which chris taps on immediately as his heart beats out of his chest. it’s a different message from some kind of bot number, alleging that he recently tested positive and she should see a doctor.

the sad part is that it looks pretty official, so much so that if he received the text himself he would probably believe it blindly. his face burns in embarrassment and irritation.

then another one comes through, from a girl he used to hook up with pretty frequently last month. by the time he responds to one person, he’s greeted by more messages from others.

five girls text him in the span of five minutes, which just adds insult to injury that they’re all questioning it too. but finally, they stop coming, and he’s pretty sure it’s over.

and now that he’s no longer focused on repeatedly putting the rumor to bed, he’s pissed.

of course chris knows it was you behind all of it, because who else would it be. he just can’t believe you thought of it, that you bested him at his own game.

there’s so much pent up energy in his body that he feels like he could run a mile. but he doesn’t. instead he jams his feet into his sneakers and orders a car, on a path of complete destruction.

you're midway through an episode of broad city when you hear a pounding on your front door, which you don’t expect. it surprises you so much that you actually have to take a second to calm your racing heart down from the panic.

you know who it is too, which scares you more. you weren’t expecting him to just show up like this, especially since it’s only been a little over fifteen minutes since your latest prank.

you were thinking maybe there would be an angry confrontation next time you went over to their house, but not right now.

the knocking comes again, louder and more impatient this time. you finally bring yourself to get off the couch, heading for the front door and squaring your shoulders as you go.

you swing it open a second later, and even though you expected him, you’re still troubled by chris’s expression. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so infuriated, so intense.

his eyes are dark as he stares you down, muscles straining and on display in his black wife beater. his entire face is flushed, and even though you know he took an uber here, it looks like he could’ve sprinted the whole way.

“do you think you’re fucking funny?” he seethes, taking a step toward you.

instinctively you move backwards, like two opposite ends of a magnet. chris raises an eyebrow, and you tilt your head.

“am i laughing?” you ask sharply.

“why are you messing with my life like this, huh? all because i made a comment to some dumbass kid?” he continues to rail you with questions.

you literally can’t help but just blink at him for a moment, completely at a loss over the fact that he sees nothing wrong with what he did.

“if you really believe that it wasn’t a big deal, you’re even worse than i thought.” you respond, voice quiet but lethal.

this time his anger actually falters, and his grimace turns to a slight frown. you’ve cursed him out plenty of times, but somehow this feels way more real. and it rips through him like a knife.

“yeah, i’m the awful one. you wanna know what wes was saying about you to his friends in the gym that day? he said that he was trying to fuck you for the roster, and that he was hoping to do it after your date so he wouldn’t have to see you again.”

he reveals this information rather bluntly. it just falls out of his mouth, and there’s no way to stop it, so he keeps going, “and then i told him all that stupid shit about you to scare him away, because i thought it was easier to keep hating me than to hear the truth about him.”

your jaw goes slack, lips parting even though you have no thoughts running through your head. or, more specifically, you’re having so many thoughts crowding you that you can’t pick one.

“i—okay, let me get this straight. instead of just being honest with me, you let me wait around outside a fancy restaurant by myself for an hour like a fucking fool?” you grill him, still somehow finding a way to be pissed off.

“i didn’t want to hurt you.” chris counters, taking another step toward you so he’s almost inside the doorway.

you stand your ground this time, staring him down defiantly. “don’t give me that bullshit, you’ve been tormenting me since the day we met and you know it.”

he shakes his head, a frustrated grunt leaving his lips. “why do you insist on misunderstanding me?”

“because you don’t make any sense! first you hate my guts, and now i’m supposed to just accept that you were supposedly looking out for me the whole time?” you throw your hands up in exasperation.

“i never hated you, y/n. not even for a second. and i know it’s not my place but he didn’t deserve to be anywhere near you, especially not after what he said.”

this absolutely infuriates you, and you place both of your hands in between your two bodies to shove him back onto the little patio. he’s stunned by your temper, but he only lets it show for a moment.

“what, and you do? you ever think about all of the shit you’ve said about me, chris?” you’re louder now, because you feel like you’re being made to look like an idiot.

he just approaches again, which sends you backing up into the apartment as he follows close behind. chris kicks the door shut and reaches out, one hand slipping behind your neck while the other moves to hold onto your hip, forcing you close to him.

“i didn’t mean any of it. i liked you from the moment i met you, and i hated that, so i took it out on you to try and keep you away. but i didn’t mean it,” he emphasizes, leaning in slightly so he’s practically breathing his words against your mouth, “let me show you.”

you can smell the musky cologne on his skin, trying so hard to ignore the shiver running down your spine from his proximity alone. your heart is beating out your of your chest and you briefly wonder if he can hear it.

“i don’t…i can’t trust you, chris.” you reply, turning your head so you can avoid his gaze, but he won’t let that happen.

he forces you to look back at him, tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck so he can guide your head straight. chris watches your eyes grow wide, lips parting ever so slightly as your resolve continues to fade.

“yes you can, i promise. let me show you what i really think about you, please.” he begs, tilting a bit more so that his lips ghost over yours, testing the waters.

you haven’t been properly kissed in quite some time, and the desire to give in is so strong that you can’t fight any longer. so you lean into it, throwing your arms up so you can wrap them around his neck and pull him flush against your chest.

his mouth melts against yours, tentatively at first to make sure you’re comfortable. when you start to pick up the pace, kissing him with a newfound fervor, chris begins to let his tongue wander against yours more passionately.

then his hands slide down to grip your ass tightly, kneading the supple flesh with his fingers. you gasp against his mouth, an airy and delicate sound that makes his stomach twist. he’s been dying to hear that for over a year now.

a second later you feel him bite down on your bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and admiring the way the skin recoils as he lets go. you didn’t realize how much you would enjoy the mixture of slight pain and pleasure.

“tell me you want this too.” chris demands, lining his mouth up with your ear so that he can speak lowly.

normally you would protest, or insult him, or roll your eyes, but things have completely changed in the last few minutes. now all you can think about is how soft his kisses are, how you want to feel them all over.

so you nod with those doe eyes locked on him as he pulls away to study you, taking in your flustered state. “i want you to show me, chris.”

the sentence is music to his ears, and he can’t believe this is actually finally happening. you break your grasp on his neck, taking a step back so you can slip your hand into his.

you lead him down the hall toward your bedroom, heart thumping against your ribcage with each step you take. you’re nervous, but you also somehow feel more comfortable with him than the few guys who came before.

and sure, you’d never fully had sex with any of them. but now you’re kind of glad you didn’t, so chris can be your first.

your room is a bit messier than you’d like considering you weren’t expecting company, especially not in this part of the house, but you don’t have time to fix it now. it’s not like he gives a single shit; the only thing he’s focused on is you.

the tiny shorts you’re wearing have started to ride up as you tug him along, which only grabs his attention more. chris gives your butt a light smack with his free hand before twirling you back into his side with the other, pressing a steady kiss to your lips.

you laugh slightly, because you can’t help it, which makes him smile against your mouth. it really does feel corny, but he doesn’t care all that much. for you, he’s willing to drop the tough guy act.

“are you sure about this?” chris asks as he pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours as he awaits a response.

you lean in to peck him swiftly again before speaking. “i’m sure, really.”

he nods once, guiding you a few steps backwards so you fall down onto your own plush bed sheets. for a moment he admires the way your hair fans out around you, the slight ‘o’ of surprise that your lips make, trying to capture a mental picture of the moment.

your fingers find the bottom of his shirt in an attempt to speed things up, wrapping the material into your fist and bringing him down on top of you. he braces himself, arms on either side of you while he nudges your legs apart so his knee is between them.

you let your hands grasp his mostly bare shoulders as his head dips down, pressing kisses to your cheek, along your jaw, the hollow area underneath your earlobe. soft little noises fall from your lips as chris finally reaches your neck, careful not to be too rough as he sucks on the sensitive skin of your throat.

he adores it and he wants to hear more, to make them louder. so his mouth trails to your collarbone, which is luckily on display since you’re in a tube top. and then he lifts his thigh forward a bit more, ensuring that his knee brushes right against your clothed heat.

your hips grind down against his muscles almost involuntarily, eliciting a real moan as your cunt throbs desperately. you rock your hips against him at a quicker pace, loving the pressure that's beginning to build in your stomach from the stimulation.

“mmm, y’sound so pretty.” chris grumbles against your body, tongue sloppily running over the now irritated areas.

it’s the first time he’s ever really praised you, and considering it’s coming from the person you least expected, it makes it that much sweeter.

he pauses, pulling his head up so that he can hover over you. his hands begin to slide underneath your top suggestively and you help him, wiggling the stretchy material over your head.

you toss it to the floor, chest fully on display as the cold air rushes over your hardened nipples. a long breath passes by his lips as he takes you in, his dick straining against his sweats now as you gaze at him bashfully.

“quit staring.” you complain, though your voice holds no conviction.

“you make it hard not to.” chris shakes his head with a smile, leaning back down so that he can brush your worries away with another brief kiss.

this time you can feel his hard-on pressed against the inside of your thigh as his mouth searches yours, sloppier yet somehow sweeter this time around. his hand dances across your hip and up your side, moving higher and higher until his fingers are grazing over one of your exposed breasts, stopping to massage it roughly.

your back arches, rutting your chest into his grasp as you groan against his lips. chris pulls away, tiny smirk morphing his features.

“aw, you like that baby?” he goads, spreading his other palm out against the previously untouched mound of flesh, squeezing your nipples between his fingers lightly.

you can feel the wetness pooling at your core as he stays poised between your legs, continuing to tweak the sensitive buds in a way that’s deliciously enjoyable. you’re writhing under his hands, and he loves that you’re completely in his control.

but chris also knows that he can take you further, satisfy you more than you could’ve ever imagined. so he bows to your body, attaching his mouth to your throat and leaving several messy kisses.

his lips shift to brush against the area right above your chest, nipping at the skin lightly as he brings one hand back to grasp one of your tits. finally, he gets far down enough to flick his tongue across one of your nipples, his fingers pinching the other gently, swapping between them after a moment.

“fuck, chris.” you whimper, mind already becoming fuzzy from the carnal desire for more.

“god i love hearing you moan my name.” he admits before sucking the sensitive bud back into his mouth, toying with it a bit more just to drive you crazy.

he stays there for a moment as you both enjoy the dragged out foreplay. it’s a moment with you that he’s waited for for what seems like an eternity, and he wants it to last as long as possible.

and as much as he would like to linger in this spot forever, chris is craving even more of you. the tent in his pants is still growing from all of your beautiful noises and expressions, but he’s only worried about making this the best experience for you.

so he carries on, trailing down the valley of your breasts, wetting the area as he continues. he presses several slow kisses against your stomach, in a straight line leading directly to the waistband of your cotton pants.

you watch as he looks up at you through his long lashes, pupils blown out in lust. “can i take these off, pretty girl?”

“please.” the roles are reversed and now you’re the one begging him.

“so needy.” chris drags the ‘y’ out slightly as he simultaneously does the same thing to your shorts, careful to tug your thin and soaked panties with them.

the air rushes over the slickness that’s already developed, and you instinctively close your legs. you’ve never had anyone actually go down there, just a guy who stuck his hand in your pants to finger you—very poorly, if you’re honest—during seven minutes in heaven well over a year ago.

so it makes you a little self-conscious having him this close. he’s quick to pry you apart again, fully lowering himself to the floor of your room so he’s face to face with your pussy.

“can’t believe no one has ever seen you like this, you little tease.” his voice is low as he starts kissing your inner thigh, working his way in, “wanna taste you so bad.”

he’s growing closer to where you need him, and you throb when you feel his lips graze the innermost part of your leg. chris blows one singular breath right across your cunt, which shocks you slightly, before pressing a soft open-mouthed kiss to your clit.

you feel your legs tremble a little bit in his palms, your hands automatically going to tangle in his hair. a long whine escapes as his tongue works across you, and you can literally feel him smile in satisfaction.

the fact that it’s his mouth making you squirm like this, that he’s the only one that’s ever gotten to eat you out, is something he’s currently taking a lot of pride in.

he lightly teases your entrance, moving back and forth from that and sucking on your pulsing clit. it makes you grip onto his roots tighter, grinding down onto his face slightly as you moan his name again like a prayer. he swears he could cum in his pants right now, without you even touching him.

“you’re so fucking sexy.” he purrs against your cunt, the vibrations sending another tiny jolt through your body.

you can feel how hot your face is, how tense your stomach has become, and you can’t bring yourself to find any words. that is, until his fingers glide across your clit, rubbing over it lightly as you throw your head back against the mattress.

“holy shi—oh!” your voice catches in your throat midway through your sentence as he suddenly slips a finger inside.

a lewd noise escapes your throat once he does so, and he begins to pump it slowly. you’re finding it nearly impossible to keep your hips planted on the mattress, so he guides your leg over his shoulder and digs his nails into your skin to keep you still.

you rock your pelvis forward, connecting with his hand harder now as you chase the sensation, listening to the wet sounds of him gliding in and out of your cunt. chris adds another one of his slender fingers inside of you, and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to contain some of the desperate noises you’re making.

his own cock is pulsing as he continues, admiring the way your tits jiggle as he picks up his pace, the way your hair is slightly matted while your mascara collects under your eyes. he knows you want more just based on the way you’re bucking to meet his fingers, but he wants to hear you say it.

“is there something you’d like, sweetheart?” he asks, pressing another open kiss to your overstimulated clit.

you look down at him, meeting those pretty blue eyes as he awaits an answer, and you feel yourself shiver in both anticipation and from the current excitement.

“more, chris. i—need you.” you finally manage to get it out, voice pinched as you speak.

“what do you need, huh? you gotta tell me, use those words.” he demands further, and even though his taunting makes you shy, you realize you’ll have to answer if you want him to continue.

“need you inside me, baby.” you plead breathlessly, and he lets out an involuntary groan at the use of the pet name.

he didn’t expect you to play into the dirty talk, and at this point his erection is begging to be set free, to have you wrapped around him. so chris slows his fingers to a stop, leaving you feeling empty as he removes them.

a pout takes over your features as he stands up, placing his fingers in his mouth so he can suck your wetness off of them. it’s ridiculously racy, and it leaves you clenching around nothing as you wait for his next move.

“wanna be buried in this pretty pussy so bad.” chris growls, reaching to yank his wife beater over his head.

his chain bounces against his collarbones as he throws it away half-hazardly, tugging his boxers and sweatpants down to his ankles a second later. your eyes widen slightly as his dick springs free, slapping against his stomach as he steps out of his clothes.

precum dribbles out of the tip, which is angry and red from desire. you’re completely in a trance, staring as he takes himself into his own hand, pumping a few times so he can spread the slick around.

he notices the way you’re studying him in amazement, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “d’you want to give it a try, princess?”

your heart leaps into your throat, and even though you’re scared, you really want to learn how to make him feel good too. so you nod silently, extending your hand toward his cock, hesitating once you’re close enough.

“spit in your palm, wrap your fingers around it and then stroke, just like i was.” he instructs, so you suck in a breath and do as you’re told.

your newly-wetted hand closes around the bottom of his shaft, and he hisses out a curse as you start working up and down, squeezing the sensitive skin timidly. your thumb runs over his slit and he lets out a low moan, fucking himself into your fist.

“a-ah shit, just like that.”

you adore the admiration, unable to contain your smile as you apply some more pressure. his head is tilted back to the ceiling, eyes screwed shut as he enjoys the brief handjob. but chris can already feel the orgasm building, so he stills your movements by placing his fingers over your own.

your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “was it bad?”

he shakes his head immediately before he settles back down on top of you, bracing himself on his forearms as he leans in for a kiss. the taste of your arousal still lingers on his lips, which you surprisingly enjoy way more than expected.

“no, if anything it was too good. i would’ve finished from that alone.” chris admits against your mouth, which makes you feel insanely content.

“can’t have that, can we? not when i need you to fill me up.” you reply in a sultry tone, and if you didn’t know any better you would think that the comment made him blush.

“jesus, you can’t say shit like that to me.” he grumbles, moving to run his tongue along your jaw as his hand wraps around your throat.

chris squeezes the sides of your windpipe lightly, rutting his hips upward so that his dick slides against your drenched folds. the warmth from your center immediately causes his breathing to become labored, and you whimper as you feel his tip nudge your swollen clit.

“are you ready?” he pants into your ear, and you mumble a few pathetic words of confirmation to spur him on.

with that, chris uses the hand that was previously on your throat to line himself up at your entrance, looking up to catch your eye again. he pauses for a moment, so you give him a nod of encouragement.

“tell me if it gets too uncomfortable.” he says, intertwining his free fingers with yours so you have something to hold on to.

then he slowly starts to push himself inside, beginning with just the tip as your eyes screw shut. the stretch is painful at first, like you’re being split wide open by the sheer size of him, so you focus on your breathing as your grip on his hand tightens.

inch by inch he fills you up, until finally his full length is being gripped by your plush walls. you wince at the agonizing pressure, your nails digging into his back as he waits for you to adjust. you’re already clenching around him involuntarily, and he lets out a long groan.

“you alright, baby?” chris questions a beat later, concern laced in his voice.

“yeah, i think so.” you reply quietly.

“keep breathing, i’ll take it slow.” he promises, trying to comfort you as best he can.

you just nod, still latched onto his shoulder while his thumb strokes the back of your hand. his other palm clutches your hip, steadying himself as he begins to move in and out. you choke on your breath, doing everything you can to ignore the overwhelming ache.

it’s a feeling unlike any other, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck to keep from crying out. slowly but surely he picks up his rhythm, rocking into you sensually as you finally begin to transition into the pleasurable part of the experience.

a moan falls from your lips, muffled slightly by his skin. it surprises the both of you, and it makes chris flush, completely aroused by the fact that he’s the first guy to ever make you feel this way.

“doing so well, taking it all for me.” he says in a whiny tone, shifting to give you a kiss as he marvels at how tight you’re squeezing him.

the pressure in your stomach from earlier comes back, building as chris begins to snap his hips a bit quicker. gasps escape your throat on loop every time he plunges back into your cunt, and he grunts from the feeling of you enveloping his dick.

“oh my god.” you whimper pathetically, positioning your hand on the back of his neck so you can pull yourself in to meet his strokes.

he loves that you’re taking more control, that you’re truly starting to enjoy yourself. he can feel himself growing closer to the edge, and it doesn’t help that you’re now clenching around him every time he bottoms out.

but he holds on, letting go of your hand so he can bring it between your bodies, brushing two fingers over your clit. you practically convulse in surprise, your pornographic moans filling the room as he rubs tiny circles against the sore bud.

“shit, chris!” you cry, and you can feel the band in your stomach getting ready to snap.

“let ‘em know, princess, tell ‘em who makes you feel this good.” he slides his fingers against you quicker, plunging so deep now that he’s tapping your cervix with every pump.

“i’m—” you don’t even have time to finish your sentence before your abs tense up, legs uncontrollably shaking now.

you lean into the wave, letting it wash over you as you find your release. chris is close behind, shuddering as his thrusts grow needy and sloppy. then you feel him twitch, his hot cum mixing with your own as it pours out from his slit. he eventually stills a few seconds later, both of your chests heaving as he slowly slides out of you for good.

he rolls to his back, slumping beside you so that both of your arms are pressed together as you each regain your breath.

you’re scared to speak first, terrified really, so when you hear chris clear his throat you’re thankful that he’s breaking the silence.

“that was…you’re so…fuck, you’re just perfect.” chris fumbles with his words, and you glance over at him with a small grin.

“i’m really glad it was you, chris. thank you.” you press a sweet kiss to his cheek, and this time you’re positive he’s blushing.

“i’m glad it was me too.” he confesses as his arm snakes around your waist, pulling your back to his chest.

it’s a comfortable feeling, being held by him, and it’s one that you want to enjoy forever.

“to think, we could’ve been doing that this whole time.” you rag on him a little, unable to remain completely serious.

he buries his chin in your neck, breath tickling your ear as he responds. “good thing we have the rest of our lives to make up for it.”