#just realized his neck is twisted the wrong way
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Pretty in pink
Written for day 24 of the @steddieholidaydrabbles and for the 12 Days of Christmas bonus card of the @steddiebingo
Prompts: Stocking & Kink
Rated: E
Tags: Established relationship; Lingerie; Awkward sexual situations; Mutual handjobs; Butt plugs; Kink exploration
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The inconspicuous brown paper bag looms down at Steve from its place atop the bathroom cabinet. For a second, he's tempted to chicken out. Just get in the shower like he said he would and leave Eddie none the wiser.
Then, he gives himself a firm mental slap and starts stripping. He's spent money on this. He's made the preparations, lit the candles in the bedroom, and told Eddie to wait for him. He can't back out now.
Still, he thinks when he opens the bag and bites back a wince, he wishes he'd picked any other color than pink. Don't get him wrong, it's not like he doesn't look good in it. He knows that it goes well with his tan skin, knows that it brings out the natural hue of his cheeks and lips. Knows that Eddie is crazy about it.
But, and somehow this is only dawning on him now, there's a huge difference between the soft pink knitted sweater vest that Eddie loves on him and a pair of hot pink, lacy stockings with matching crotchless panties.
He's an idiot.
And in a few minutes, he's gonna be an idiot in hot pink lingerie, all because Eddie offhandedly mentioned he found lingerie hot and that he'd like to try it.
“Stevie?” Eddie’s voice floats in from across the hallway. He's sounding lightly impatient and more than a little bewildered, and Steve realizes he must've been clenching the bag and staring at the contents for at least a few minutes. “You good in there?”
“Yeah,” Steve calls, frantically pulling the panties from the bag and nearly dropping them in the toilet. “I'll be right there don't- … don't go anywhere.”
“Wouldn't dream of it,” Eddie singsongs. “Just hurry up a little, I'm feeling lonely.”
Steve doesn’t reply. He's too busy hopping on one leg and chanting idiot, idiot, idiot under his breath as he struggles his way into the stockings. The delicate fabric feels strange but not uncomfortable against his skin, the rubberbands at the top settling against his thighs with firm pressure, just shy of too tight. The cut and color of the panties really do make his ass pop, he has to admit as he does an awkward little twist before the bathroom mirror. Maybe this will be okay, after all.
“Stevie,” Eddie whines. “C'mon, big boy, I'm waiting.”
Or maybe it'll be a disaster.
Well, there's only one way to find out.
“Okay,” he blurts, yanking open the bathroom door and bridging the few steps to the bedroom before his courage can leave him again. “Please don't laugh. I know I look like a fucking joke but-”
And then he forgets how human speech works.
Eddie, lounging on the bed with his hair fanning on the pillows, stares at him with saucer-like eyes and an open mouth. Steve, frozen in the open door, stares right back.
“Holy shit,” Eddie breathes after what feels like forever. “You look incredible.”
“Yeah, thank you,” Steve mutters absentmindedly, taking two wobbly steps towards the bed. “What the- … What are you wearing?”
Eddie reaches out eager hands, pulling Steve down on top of him. His smile is wide and elated, like that of a kid in a candy shop.
“Well,” he drawls. “What does it look like, sweetheart?”
“But I thought-” Steve starts to say, but that's about as far as he gets before Eddie pulls him down with one firm hand against the nape of his neck, tongue slipping into his mouth. Eddie's other hand finds his ass, calloused fingers kneading the firm flesh through the pink lace, and Steve moans.
“Hold on a fucking second,” he gasps when they need to break apart for air. Eddie doesn't listen, just keeps trailing biting kisses down his jaw and neck, so Steve bodily pushes himself off him to sit back on his haunches. Eddie pouts at him. “I thought you said you wanted me to- … Why are you-?”
“What?” Eddie asks, bottom lip jutting out a little more, but there’s this unmistakable glint in his eyes that tells Steve he’s holding in his laughter by sheer force of will. “You don’t like what you’re seeing?”
“Shut up,” Steve snaps. “I never said that. You look- … You’re- … Fuck, this is so hot.”
Eddie smirks, smug and self-satisfied, pushing himself up so that they’re kneeling in front of each other on the mattress. The movement makes the strap of his top slip; a black, lacy number that hugs his slim form and ends just barely below his ass - just about where his black fishnet stockings begin. Unlike Steve, he hasn’t bothered with panties. His cock is jutting out from under his top, flushed and fully hard already. The sight makes something hot and needy pool low in Steve’s own abdomen. And then, Eddie reaches out and takes him in hand, and he feels himself leaking precome all over his fingers.
“Glad we agree,” Eddie purrs against his lips, thumbing Steve’s slit with gentle pressure, grinning when Steve’s hips buck. His other hand finds Steve’s wrist, guiding his hand to his cock, and Steve is happy to comply. “Y’know, this is not at all what I pictured when I said I’d like to try this.”
Steve laughs, shaky and breathy. “We need to learn how to better communicate our expecta-aaaah, shit.”
Eddie’s other hand is back on his ass, fingers brushing against the base of the plug he’s been wearing all day.
“Hm, probably,” Eddie agrees, smile going feral as he pushes Steve down into the pillows. “I think I rather like the outcome of this little misunderstanding though.”
Steve can’t help but agree.
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More holiday drabbles
More Steddie bingo
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absolutehumandisaster · 7 months ago
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This is what true love looks like. Btw.
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anonymityisfunwriter · 8 months ago
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Every Part of You
Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader A.N. - Alright, I've been asked to write about Bucky and Sunshine's first time many, many times. And the thing is, like sure, I could write that, but also I want us to take a moment to consider trying to build up to that. There's so many firsts buried in there that I think need to be navigated through before they even get there. This is one of those firsts. Like the first time you see Bucky's shoulder.
Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Grumpy Sunshine Series
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"You're just- " You stop speaking, searching for his lips again. Though you're breathless, you can't bring yourself to pull away from him, "You're so pretty."
You shudder as you feel his hand slip under your sweater. The occasional graze of the cool metal on your skin enough to send shivers down your spine.
His lips trail down, nipping at your jaw, "I'm not pretty."
Your hands, winded in the hair at the nape of his neck, glide down his neck, to clutch the fabric of his henley. The moment he feels your fingers toy with the collar of his shirt, his heart hammers against his ribcage. Not in the sort of way that he usually feels in these moments with you. He feels a sense of dread, of panic. It wraps around his spine like a python. It feels like he can't breathe.
"You're so -"
He wrenches away from you, his chest heaving, "Stop, stop, stop."
You freeze, immediately dropping your hands. Panic starts creeping up your throat, coating your words. "Did I - did I do something wrong?"
He gulps, silently shaking his head. It takes him a moment to regain his composure, to regain the ability to speak clearly, "No, no, you're - you're perfect."
Guilt starts to eat at him. He can see you doing your very best to keep your own feelings off your face. He can see the sting of his rejection in the way your lips press together in a tight line. The embarrassment in the pallor of your once flushed cheeks.
You two have worked so hard to overcome your own personal issues and traumas, to build trust in each other, moments like these hadn't come easy. And he so callously pushed you away, it makes him feel worse. And what makes his heart ache even more, he sees nothing but concern for him shining in your eyes. You just look so worried for him.
Your hands rest in your lap. You twist and untwist your fingers. "If you don't want to, we don't - we don't have to do anything. I'm really sorry -"
"No, no, please don't be sorry." He reaches for you, gently squeezing your hand. It soothes him as much as it does you. "I want to. You don't know how much I want to."
"But?"
His eyes squeeze shut. He can't bring himself to meet your eyes. "You haven't seen it before - my arm, my shoulder."
"Oh."
He drops your hand. That feeling takes over him again. It feels like there's not enough air in the room. He slides away from you, closer to the edge of the tiny couch in your apartment. "It's - I am not pretty."
It breaks your heart, watching him pull away from you. You can only imagine how many people have turned away from him before. "James..."
He fervently shakes his head, refusing to open his eyes, "No, no, I know what you're gonna say, but it's bad. A lot worse than you're thinking."
"How do you know what I'm thinking?"
"It's bad," he insists. "I see it every day and I can barely - it's just bad, okay?"
You take his hand, squeezing it tightly. "It's okay if you don't want me to see it. I understand."
He finally opens his eyes again as his eyebrows pull together. He still doesn't meet your eye. "No, no, I want to - I trust you with this, I do. I just - I want you to be prepared."
In that moment, you realize that it's not really about preparing you. Not at all.
He thinks you're going to react badly. He thinks that this will make you turn away from him for the first time ever. He's worried that the love and adoration in your eyes will turn to disgust and repulsion.
It's less about preparing you for the scarred flesh, and more about warning you that he couldn't take a bad reaction. He's not sure he could take it if you turned away from him too.
"I love you," you promise him. "There's nothing that you could show me that would change that. I hope you know that."
There is no response to that. And you know that he won't believe it until he sees it. It takes him a moment. His hand toys with the hem of his shirt. His hand grips the hem, only to let it go.
"I love you," you remind him.
He takes a large gulp of air, pulling off his shirt with one quick movement.
You weren't really sure what you were expecting. You knew the story. You knew how Bucky lost his arm. He even confided the bits and pieces he remembered from getting his vibranium arm.
Your eyes trail over his skin. The shoulder is scarred, scars jut in every direction. Each scar is etched into his skin. It's clear it was a painful, violent experience for him. The metal plate protrudes from the scar tissue in a way that you're sure was painful when first placed. You look on with curiosity, you're not really sure how this, a sign of survival, a badge of resilience, could ever make anyone turn away from him.
He's as breathtaking as you could ever imagine.
Your eyes flicker up at him. He looks at the blank wall of your apartment, scared to watch your facial expressions as you take it in. "Can I?"
He nods, barely able to look you in the eyes. He sucks in a breath when your fingers make contact with the scar tissue surrounding the metal plate.
You immediately pull your fingers back, worried you've accidentally hurt him. "Does it hurt?"
"No," he answers reflexively.
You know he's lying. "I've seen you holding your shoulder before - holding it like it hurts."
"Sometimes," he amends. "The doctor said there's a lot of nerve damage. Things they can't fix."
"Does it hurt now?"
"No."
You run your hand over the plate, over his scars, down to his shoulder blade.
"Still think I'm pretty?" he sarcastically remarks.
You press a gentle kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'll always think you're pretty. Every part of you."
Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist
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princessbellecerise · 4 months ago
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Baby Blues
Summary ✩ After six months of being married, you and Cregan are still struggling to conceive, leading to you becoming insecure and slightly jealous in your marriage
Warnings ✩ Angst, jealousy, mentions of infertility and pregnancy, self doubt, insecurity, happy ending though
Notes ✩ This is based off of a request and I hope I did it justice. I did put a little twist on it just to make it a little extra angsty but enjoy!
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Cregan pulled the covers back and grinned.
A little over a month had passed since your last moon blood, and now that a safe amount of time had gone by, he felt excitement fill him at the idea that you were finally with child.
The two of you had been trying ever since you got married six months ago, but it seemed that the Gods had not yet deemed you fit to be parents. It’s something that’s worried both you and Cregan, as it wasn’t like there was a lack of trying between the two of you, and the Maesters said that you both were healthy. Realistically, your belly should be swollen by now but it just hadn’t happened.
Now though, Cregan felt a sliver of hope rise in his chest. Beside him, you shifted and rolled over sleepily to see why your husband had taken the covers from you. You were cold, but once you saw what he was looking at you immediately warmed up.
“It still hasn’t come,” You realized, fighting a smile. Your heart beating a little faster as you saw the clean sheets.
“No. No it hasn’t,” Cregan, trying and failing to conceal his own grin, said. “It’s been next to two months now.”
“Which could mean nothing,” You chewed your lip, reminding him that sometimes a woman’s blood could be late. But Cregan chose to be optimistic.
“Or…”
You squealed as suddenly, your husband pulled you into his arms and peppered kisses all over your neck. Laughter filled your chambers as you tried to push him away, but Cregan held you firm, his hands gentle as they pressed against your belly. “Mayhaps my seed has finally taken.”
“Mhmm. Well, we’ll see about that,” You said cautiously, not wanting to get your hopes up until you knew for sure. More time would need to pass before you allowed yourself to truly believe, as the heartbreak of your moon blood simply being late would be devastating. You were already worried that something was wrong with your womb and the longer you went without getting pregnant, the more that worry grew.
Over the next few days, you held caution close to your chest as a way to shield yourself in case Cregan was wrong. In case this time was just false hope like all the others, but as the days went on and suddenly it became a month and two weeks without getting your moon blood, you caved.
You and Cregan couldn’t stop grinning the moment you finally revealed to the Maester what was happening. It was too early to be one hundred percent sure, but he assured you that it was a good sign and only time would tell. Despite this, Cregan insisted on celebrating the incident, claiming that there needed to be a feast held to honor the coming of a new heir. Your husband was so excited that you didn’t even have the heart to dissuade him, admittedly excited yourself.
As the Lady of the castle, you made the plans and collaborated with the Maester to send out invitations. And within two more weeks, all of the nearest houses in the North were gathered at Winterfell, happy and merry as they celebrated you and Cregan.
It was a lively feast, and definitely the most exciting event in the North for a while. Cregan had insisted on having the best ale present and the best food, as it was summer and their stores had extra to spare.
You had never seen your husband so alive; so filled with happiness and joy as he drank to his new heir. Of course, you were being moderate and only stuck to cider or water, but you didn’t mind. At least you’d be sober enough to remember this night, and the way that it filled you with such love to see everyone so happy.
To you, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulder and the fear of disappointing Cregan and the North faded. You knew it was silly, as Cregan had reassured you many times that he’d still love you even if you couldn’t provide him with a child, but fulfilling your duty had been drilled into your head since you were born and now you could rest.
You were pregnant, hopefully, and your days of waking up and feeling like a failure were over. That night, you ate, you laughed, you toasted to your unborn babe and you held Cregan tight when later, he whispered to your non-existent baby bump.
“Helloooo thereeee. I’m…I’m your father,” He slurred while you laughed, unable to help yourself as you knew he was one hundred percent piss drunk.
“My love, I think we should be going to bed so you can sleep this off,” You told him, but Cregan waved you off and rested his head on your belly.
“Just…just a minute,” He told you, and he seemed to sober up a little as a small sigh left his lips. “I wanna…I wanna say a few words to our little wolf.”
He pressed a delicate kiss to the exposed skin and nuzzled your belly with his nose, pausing for a moment before continuing. “It took…it took a while for you to get here, didn’t it? Your mother and I…we were worried. I thought…I thought that maybe there was something wrong with me at first and that’s why you didn’t come, but I’m glad to know that me cock still works.”
“Cregan!” You were both amused and a little surprised to hear that it was him he blamed for such a wait, not you. You never realized that your husband felt responsible for not being able to conceive these past few months, and it both saddened your heart and made you feel less alone to know that he carried the same guilt on his shoulders.
“It was no one’s fault the babe took so long,” You reassured him gently, running a hand through his hair. Cregan sighed at your touch, leaning into your lap as he nodded.
“Aye. It just seems like our little wolf is stubborn is all,” He smiled.
He finished off his speech with a few more words of love to your belly, and the entire time you felt yourself smiling bigger and bigger. By the time Cregan had finished, finally stumbling into bed and grumbling about a headache, you were sure that your cheeks were going split from smiling so much. Words couldn’t describe how full your heart felt, how much you were overflowing from sheer happiness and joy. Everything you had ever dreamed of was coming true and it was all because of the little babe growing in your belly.
“Good night, my little moon,” You smiled as you placed a hand over it, almost as a way to protect them as you fell asleep. Sometime during the night, you felt Cregan’s large hand doing the same, and together your warm hands protected your little miracle.
The next morning, you woke up with the sun shining on your face. Yawning, you reached over to say good morning to Cregan, only to find the bed empty.
He must have gotten up early, you thought with a frown.
You thought about yesterday, about how carefree and happy your husband had been. He was so excited to know that he was getting another child, excited that little Rickon would have a younger sibling to protect. You were sad to think that he now had to focus on his duties again, but what could you do?
Duty never waits for anyone.
Trying to shake off your disappointment, you cradled your stomach and sat up in bed. After stretching and taking a small sip of water from the pitcher your maids had left you, you yawned again and threw the covers back.
Your eyes widened.
“Oh Gods. Oh no, no, no!”
You scrambled up in a panic as tiny dots of blood stained your sheets, your eyes wide and your stomach dropping to your feet. Horrified, you placed a shaking hand over your mouth as denial flooded your veins—but the proof was there plain as day.
“No. No, no, no! This can’t be happening,” You whimpered, falling to your knees as you touched the satin material.
How could this be possible? You hadn’t…you hadn’t bled for two months, and now all of a sudden your moon blood decided to show up? After everything…the feast, Cregan’s speech last night…
You shook your head as tears blurred your vision. Utter rage and devastation seemed to fill your heart as you sobbed, clutching your stomach as your whole body shook.
Both shame and embarrassment washed over you, knowing that the womb you cradled was empty. All those celebrations, all the toasts and the speeches that were given…it was for nothing.
You weren’t pregnant, and just like that you were back in the same position you were when you first arrived in Winterfell.
Scared. Heartbroken when your moon blood still came after the bedding. Terrified as the thought of being barren and unable to bare Cregan another child haunted you.
All of a sudden, those fears came running back to you and it made you want to throw up. It made you want to shout and scream, ask the Gods what they hated you so much as to allow this.
Why? Why have you all cursed me? Why won’t you let me bare my husband’s child? Am I not good enough? Am I just not meant to be a mother?
No, no. It couldn’t be true. Despite what the Gods thought, you refused to believe it. You didn’t want to believe it, not willing to accept that you had let Cregan down, again.
Gods, and he had been so excited to be a father again. You knew that he always wanted a big family, but sadly his first wife had passed away in childbirth. It had taken him two years to remarry, and now he was stuck with only one son and a second wife that was probably barren.
A cruel fate he had been dealt, really.
And now, as you stared at the droplets of blood staining the sheets, an ugly feeling crawled its way through your chest. Something that felt akin to jealousy, which you knew was ridiculous and borderline sinful.
It was an ugly, awful thing to envy a dead woman—and you swore to yourself that you never would. You knew how much Cregan loved you, and you were mature enough to know that one person could hold love in their heart for two people. Still though, you just couldn’t help yourself.
Arra might have died for it, but at least she gave him an heir. I cannot even offer him anything, You thought bitterly.
The realization just made you cry harder, wondering if when Cregan found out he’d lose his patience with you. You wondered if your husband would curse the Gods as you did; ask them why they’d taken his perfectly good wife away from him and cursed him with a barren one.
You knew that he wouldn’t, as deep down you knew your husband was not that kind of man. Grief however had skewed your mind, and it made you not think straight as you scrambled up.
Wiping your tears, you leaned over the bed and tore the sheets off with one pull. In a frenzy, and motivated by the desire to not let Cregan see them, you stuffed them deep within your closet and sobbed.
You don’t remember when you dressed yourself, or when you even left the room, really.
All you knew was that everything felt like a blur, the whole world passing you by as you aimlessly wandered through Winterfell.
You don’t remember what you were even looking for or why, but eventually you found yourself somewhere that surprised even you. In the hallway of an abandoned corridor, staring at the portrait of Cregan’s late wife.
You weren’t sure what possessed you to go there, or to even stay once you realized what it was. But something kept you rooted to your spot, and you found yourself entranced as you stared at the artwork.
Arra was beautiful, that was for sure. She had long dark hair, common amongst the Northerners, and big blue eyes that seemed to stare at you accusingly.
From what you’d heard from Cregan, she was his childhood sweetheart. Kind and generous, your husband had once reassured you that she’d love even you, when you were once worried that her ghost would somehow blame you for stealing her husband and child.
“Arra was a gentle soul,” Cregan explained, “And she’d love you for the simple fact that you make me happy, and that you are going to be a wonderful mother to her son and his siblings.”
Now, you wondered if that would still hold true. You had failed at the last part, and surely once Cregan found out, the happiness he once found with you would fade.
You wondered if then Arra would still be so accepting of you; a woman who had stolen her husband and her child and couldn’t even do anything to keep him happy.
It haunted you to think so. Sent a burning feeling through your chest. A feeling of failure. A feeling of jealousy, that this woman had given your husband everything you’d ever wanted to give him and more. A feeling of sadness when you realized that she had died for it, and now her place had been taken by someone as useless as you.
A few hours later, that’s where Cregan found you. Staring at the portrait of Arra Norrey, crying your eyes out over a dead woman, his late wife, and the babe that never even existed in your womb.
“Y/N?” Cregan approached you cautiously, alarm and panic in his eyes as he saw you sunken on the floor. You hadn’t know it yet, too caught up in your grief, but you’d been missing pretty much the entire day and no one had been able to find you since this morning.
The sun had long set, and just when Cregan felt like he was about to lose his mind, he remembered one last place he hadn’t checked. A place he used to visit all the time when he was a child, hiding and sneaking away with his now late wife. But he hadn’t had the heart to visit since she died, not until the possibility of you being in danger arose.
It was here that he found you, and immediately your husband rushed over to you, taking you into your arms and inspecting you for any signs of danger as you cried.
“What has happened? Are you hurt?”
“No.”
Somehow, you managed to force the word out, shaking your head as you tried to quiet yourself. You hadn’t meant for him to find you like this, honestly you hadn’t. You’d meant to go find him hours ago and tell him the news, but you were stuck to this spot and you couldn’t move. The entire day you’d been paralyzed with grief and it was obvious you weren’t okay even though you tried to convince him you were.
“I’m fine, Cregan. Really,” You told him, but of course he didn’t believe you.
He reached a hand out to touch your face, wiping your tears as he set his torch down. The new angle allowed you to see his face better, to see the worry and the panic and the grief.
You curled into yourself even more knowing that you had probably caused it, and knowing that you were about to add to it even more.
“Y/N, what happened?” Cregan demanded. He was perplexed. “Why have you been down here the entire day? It’s nearly midnight. We’ve been searching for you for hours. Everyone was worried, I was going out of my mind thinking that something awful had happened to you! And the babe—”
Cregan suddenly paused as you began to cry harder, his eyes wide as you cradled your empty womb. Something in his head seemed to click, an awful thought he’d never even considered before rendering him weak.
“Gods. Has something happened to the babe? Is that why you disappeared?” Cregan panicked, and you couldn’t stop the plethora of tears that slid down your cheeks.
“I’m sorry.” The dam broke, and you launched yourself into Cregan’s arms as his face turned to horror. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Cregan, I…there is no babe,” You explained to him, and you watched as his expression hardened.
“My love, what are you talking about? What has happened to our child?” He demanded to know. You held your head shamefully.
“The sheets, Cregan,” You told him softly.
He paused. “What?”
“I bled.” The confession left a bitter taste in your mouth, Cregan reeling back in shock. “My moon blood…it came this morning while you were out. I took the sheets…so you wouldn’t know and I…I wanted to tell you, I swear. But I just…I didn’t know how and I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” You whimpered. “I’m sorry.”
You looked away, afraid to see his face. Afraid to see the disappointment and the anger that was sure to come. Afraid to see the same accusing stare that Arra wore.
You averted your eyes, because you didn’t think you could bare watching the moment your husband realized that you were a failure. That it was you all along and not him that couldn’t conceive a child. It was your womb, your body that was preventing his happiness.
You didn’t think you could watch the moment all of it faded away.
“Y/N…”
You flinched as Cregan’s hand gently grabbed your face, making you look at him no matter how hard you tried not to. His rough, calloused fingers stroked your cheek, and he looked awfully gentle for a man that should’ve been angry beyond belief.
“My love, look at me. Look at me, please.”
You blinked, and all of sudden you were gazing into his eyes, one blue and one brown. Both of them looked soft and warm, Cregan sighing as he shook his head.
“You will never be a disappointment,” He said firmly. “Not to me. And I don’t want you to ever think such a thing. You are a good wife—”
“Who has failed you time and time again, Cregan,” You sniffled, “It has been six months, and I have yet to fall pregnant. You already have a son, so we both know it is me. I…I’m the one that keeps disappointing us. And I don’t know what to do anymore. I just…I just want to give you a child already. I want to be just as good as Arra was.”
Cregan had been stabbed before, cut from navel to collar and yet nothing in the world was as painful as watching you break down in his arms, desperate for the child you did not have.
It made him feel helpless to see you cry, and he hated that feeling. Hated that there was nothing he could do except for hold you, and offer you sweet words in hopes that it would soothe the ache.
“And you will. One day, you shall bare me another child, but if the Gods have decided that it won’t be today then so be it. We’ll try again and again until the time is right, and if that time never comes then I’ll still be with you every step of the way,” Cregan whispered.
He rested his forehead against yours and stared into your watery eyes. In the dying light of the torch, he could see the way they danced with a thousand emotions, each one more devastating to see than the last.
“You will be a mother one day my love, but please, do not compare yourself to her,” He continued. “Arra bore me a son, yes, but she gave her life for it. I would rather give Winterfell to my uncle Bennard than to see you perish for a child as well. I cannot…I cannot bare losing you too. Do you understand?”
You could hear the pain in Cregan’s voice, the unspoken truth that he’d rather you never be a mother than to have you leave him as well. It made your heart ache at the thought of never having your own child to share, flesh and blood and bones made from your love.
It would haunt you to the end of your days, but dying and leaving your husband alone in this world would destroy you even more.
You nodded. “I understand,” You told Cregan softly.
The warm fire light died down as you held one another in that corridor.
Nevermind that half the castle was still looking for you; in that moment, you only wanted your husband, his presence the only thing that could soothe the aches.
As Cregan’s strong arms and soft words comforted you, your eyes turned to look at the portrait of Arra. You wondered, if in her final moments she felt the same comforts as you did—content knowing that no matter what happened, she’d have a husband who would be there for her until the very end.
You hoped that she had.
In the morning, Cregan declined seeing off his most loyal bannermen, keeping his promise of being by your side whilst you visited the Maester.
You were shaking, undeniably terrified for what he was going to say, but you kept your head high and held onto Cregan’s hand the entire time he examined you.
You told him of your bleeding last morning, and how it had seemingly stopped today. You confessed that you hadn’t been feeling the usual symptoms of morning sickness or fatigue, but your breasts were sore and your appetite seemed to have increased.
Your body was an endless maze of confusion and it put you through emotions you weren’t even capable of understanding. You didn’t see how the Maester could either, really, but you supposed that he was used to these kinds of things more than you were.
After you had answered all of his questions, you braced yourself, squeezing Cregan’s hand as you prepared for the Maester to tell you what he thought.
And to your utter surprise, he merely smiled.
“Bleeding from the womb for a day or two is rare after conception, but possible. The fact that it’s gone away is a good sign, My Lady,” He reassured you.
You felt Cregan gripping your hand tighter as a flurry of emotions filled your body. First, you were shocked. Then you were relieved. And slowly, the grief that had been eating away at your heart faded, and you felt the tiniest bit of something else bleed through.
Hope.
“You mean…?”
You didn’t want to say it out loud, for fear of maybe being wrong, but the Maester seemed to catch on and nodded his head.
“Yes. Gods willing, there should be a new child of Winterfell in about seven months,” He confirmed. And then he added, “Congratulations, My Lady. My Lord.”
He bowed to you and Cregan before leaving the room, also sensing that the two of you might like some privacy.
And he was right.
As soon as the door shut, Cregan pulled you into his arms and let out a shaky breath. You didn’t even have to see his face to know that your husband was smiling, and when you hugged him against you—hard—you could feel warm tears wetting your neck.
“D’you hear that? We’re having a baby,” You laughed in disbelief while Cregan chuckled, sniffling as he kissed alongside your jaw.
“I never doubted that we would,” He said honestly, and all you could do was hold him tighter, your own tears slipping down your cheeks.
“No. No you didn’t.”
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wttcsms · 8 months ago
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proof of love;
physical traces that reveal just how much you truly mean to him
ft. tobio kageyama, kiyoomi sakusa, atsumu miya
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KAGEYAMA, your skincare routine in his bathroom — tobio lives in a stereotypical bachelor pad; you walk into his apartment and it's the very definition of bare-bones. thin, cotton navy sheets line his bed, with one single flat pillow. he doesn't own a dining table, and instead just stands near his kitchen counter to consume his meals. he blushes and tells you that he's just a minimalist. despite it all, though, after fun nights out, you find yourself heading back to his place with him, sleepy and drunk and pouty. you wake up, instantly regretting not washing off your face, moping because "i'm so gonna break out now, tobio!" when kags visits your place, he opens his notes app to get the names of all the skincare products lining your sink. the next night out, you're being carried into his apartment, mumbling drunk incoherencies. instead of setting you down on his bed (which now has two fluffy pillows and a fruit-print comforter that he bought for you), he guides you two to his bathroom where he places you on the counter and starts trying to figure out which steps to do first to help you remove your makeup. drunk-you guides him every step of the way, and the warmth you feel in your chest and cheeks isn't from the drinks — it's from the gentle care of your boyfriend rubbing in an oil cleanser to strip off your makeup.
SAKUSA, your lipstick stains on his water bottle — kiyoomi likes everything in his life to be neat and tidy. he carries a tide pen in his pocket that he ends up using on your clothes more often than his own. he's particular with how his belongings are treated, and you know better than to mess with anything of kiyoomi's. you respect his boundaries and find his oddities endearing, but you feel so much more secure in your relationship when you realize just how loose his boundaries are when it comes to you. on a road trip, you're thirsty and he offers you his water bottle. you don't think too much about it until you finish drinking and instantly widen your eyes at the sight of pink encasing the rim — remnants of your lipgloss. before you can say anything or try to wipe it off, he reaches over and takes a swig from it without a second thought. you try telling him not to drink yet, but he just glances over at you before focusing back on the road. "why would i be bothered by that? i kiss you all the time, don't i?" it's his subtle way of telling you that what's his is yours; you don't need to walk on eggshells with him.
MIYA, a cheap ring that came in a plastic egg — the proposal doesn't go as atsumu plans. things rarely ever go as atsumu plans, but this time — this is the one time he needs everything to go perfectly. and it does: the photographer is well hidden and on time, the decorations came out fantastic, and the ring! the ring is stunning. it's what's on everyone's pinterest boards. the only issue is that he put the ring box in the wrong pants pocket! with sweaty palms and a pink flush creeping from his neck to his cheeks to his ears, he gets down on one knee. he manages to stammer out his proposal speech to you, and you're listening with tears brimming in your eyes and a watery smile on your face, and then, those beautiful eyes of yours widen in surprise when you see, not a velvet ring box, but a plastic orb being revealed to you. he quickly explains that this is not your real ring (no duh), but that in typical atsumu fashion, he messed up. "it's just a placeholder!!! i'll buy you five diamond rings, just don't say no!" you're not marrying atsumu because of the ring, you remind him, but you allow him to slip on the cheesy ring. it's made out of plastic and it's one of those cheap prizes that are available in those weird machines outside the grocery store; the machines where you insert a quarter and twist the knob and a mysterious plastic ball surprises you with a prize. he tells you it took him a dozen tries to get a ring. you're laughing and saying it's meant to be since the ring manages to fit you perfectly. even after getting your real engagement ring, you still keep the cheesy ring to this day. it's evidence that no matter what happens, atsumu will always go the extra mile for you.
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itsmarsss · 7 months ago
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Vulgar Display of Power [Miguel Diaz x fem!Reader] (Cobra Kai)
You can never fucking beat him in a fight and it's getting frustrating.
Request: omg more miguel please!!! smutty if u can xx already dating if you want? Fic title comes from my (second) favorite Pantera album. Word count: 4,350 Warnings: SMUT. established relationship, theres plot but it only serves to justify the sex lol, i use present tense in this, degrading, first time sub!miguel kind of, handjob, fingering, oral sex, penetration (p in v), semi-public sex (i guess? no one's around but the location isn't exactly private), a lot of use of pet names (baby, babe, love, mi amor), so much swearing. obviously no one is a minor here I don't mention much context but can be read as hs senior year or later, doesn't really matter. if you're a minor kindly keep away from my blog and this fic please
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“Fuck!”  You yell out as Sensei Lawrence announces Miguel’s win. In turn of your frustration, Miguel sports a grin that playfully mocked you.
Now don’t get it twisted, you’re not a bad fighter. You’re not even a good one- you’re great. The best, except for…
“Diaz! Good one.” Sensei Lawrence praises.
“Nice, dude!” Hawk comes to fist bump him.
Tory comes to you. “Girl get it together! You’re better than that!”
“I’m fucking trying.”
Miguel hears the two of you talking and decides to insert himself into the conversation. “Come on, it’s not a big deal.”
“I say this with love but it is a big deal and I’m gonna find a way to beat you.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
[. . .]
“Hey,” you hear Miguel call from behind you, turning around for a split second to look at him before getting back to packing your stuff to leave the dojo. 
“Hey.”
“So, are we still on for tonight?”
“Yeah. I just wanna go home first and take a shower.”
He scratches the back of his neck. “Hey are you okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“Something seems… weird.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, babe,” you tell him, bringing a hand to his face and lightly tapping his cheek.
“You sure?”
“Yes! I just said it is!” You realize you blew up at him for no reason, immediately feeling bad for it and apologizing, not managing to look at him. “Sorry.”
“See? That’s what I mean!”
“I really am sorry.”
“Okay, but something’s clearly wrong.”
You stay silent, and he walks up to you, cornering you so you’d face him.
“What’s going on?”
Honestly, you don’t want to tell him. Because it would sound stupid. Because it is stupid. You don’t even exactly know why it had gotten so under your skin this time. 
“It’s fine. I’m just a bit off today.”
“You don’t have to talk about it, but you don't have to lie either.”
“Fine. You wanna know what’s wrong? I’m frustrated because you keep beating me.”
“What?”
“Every single time we’re picked to fight I just can’t fucking beat you. And yes, I’m glad you don’t go easy on me, cause that would be like a million times worse, but I'm frustrated with myself. You’re the only one I've never fully beat in a match. The closest I’ve ever gotten to that was a tie.”
“Well most of the time it ends up in a tie.” 
“Yeah but none of the time did it end with me winning.”
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset about this.”
“Of course you don’t. I just feel like if I still can’t beat you then have I really been getting better?”
“What? That’s nonsense, babe. You know that, right? Of course you’ve been getting better. We all have.”
“See I told you it would be stupid. I don't even know why I'm feeling this way.”
“That’s okay. We can just sort that out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll ask sensei for the keys.”
“What?”
“We’re gonna stay here and fight and we’re not gonna leave until you win.”
“That’s really not what I was trying to get from this-”
“What, are you scared?” He knew just how to tug on your strings. 
“Oh fuck no.”
“Then we’re doing this.”
“But what about the date?”
“We can go tomorrow. If you need my help today, I'll help you today.”
“Okay.”
[. . .]
“Alright, ready?”
You only nod your head yes, too focused to even speak.
“Okay. Round one.”
You get a couple punches in, but he’s faster than most of your hits. He wins..
You huff, annoyed. “Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Again.”
“Okay that’s it. Again.”
This time, determination runs through your veins, as tired as you were. Every single moment of feeling weak or inferior or as though you were seen by others as basically the female equivalent of Miguel, and not yourself, not someone capable of being better than him in any way, channeled into this round. 
And you won. This time, you fucking won. 
“Wait that’s three,” you realize.
“Yeah! You won!” Miguel celebrates.
“What?”
“You won, babe!”
“Oh my God. Holy fucking shit. I won?!”
He laughs, coming up to you. “You did.” He places a quick kiss on your lips, but you’re taken over by the adrenaline, pulling him back to you by the collar of his shirt when he went to pull away, tangling him into another kiss, deeper and more passionate this time around. “That was hot,” he comments, as you finally did let him part ways with you to breathe, your bodies still flushed together. 
You feel your cheeks burn at his comment. “I just kicked your ass,” you joke.
He doesn’t even seem fazed by the comment. “Yeah you did,” he grins.
“I did not expect that to unlock some sort of loser kink in you.”
“Hey! That’s not what this is!”
You lift an eyebrow, amused. 
“What, you’re telling me it’s a crime if my insanely hot girlfriend looks insanely hot while kicking my ass?”
“Should I kick your ass more often then?”
“You’re welcome to.”
“You’re so weird.”
“Shut up,” he retorts, finally having enough of the playful bantering, unable to wait a second longer to have your lips on his again. 
Miguel pulls you even closer to him- if that were even possible- by pulling on your waist, not wasting a second more before diving in again, pulling you into a kiss that is much more feral this time around. His actions scream that he wants you, and the high from having reached your goal and beat him in the last round mixed with the lust forming in you from seeing him so affected, so attracted to this, it feels good.
You suppose some people would maybe come into an issue if they found themselves in your place. Men aren’t exactly known for being great at dealing with women being better than them in… well, anything. But Miguel acted genuinely proud of you. Hell, he’d canceled your date night to help you with this because he realized it was important to you. And more than being supportive, he was turned on by your display of power. 
His kisses start trailing out of your lips, to your jaw, to the space below your ear. “You did so well, love. You should get something in turn, huh?”
Your mind was getting a bit foggy. Still, you join in playing his game. “I suppose I should. What are you gonna do?”
“Whatever you want me to,” he breathes out. Oh. That was definitely new. 
“Whatever I want?” He only nods, looking up at you, waiting to be told what to do. Holy shit, that was hot. “That sounds good.”
“Just tell me, please, I’ll make you feel so good, I promise,” he pleads. It was almost pathetic. You decide you’d never get enough of hearing him plead like that. You loved the times in which he was more dominant, but you could definitely get behind this too, no issues whatsoever.
You pretend to think. “I don’t think I will.”
“What? Why not?”
“I want you to guess.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I- Uh- Ih-” he takes a deep breath. He liked that. You smiled. “I can do that.”
“Good boy,” you try, hoping he didn’t find it weird. 
Apparently, he didn’t. “Fuck. Fuck,” he lets out in almost strangled sounds, wordlessly dropping himself to the floor. He looks up at you with doe eyes, as if pleading for permission. You smile at him, signaling everything was okay. You cage his jaw with both your hands, and he closes his eyes for a moment, letting you play with his hair.
“You look so pretty like this,” you coo, and he feels it down his spine, his eyes fluttering open. 
“Sit.”
“What?”
“Sit,” he repeats himself, but it isn’t demanding. Not this time. 
“I heard you.”
“Sit, please, baby.”
You grin. You didn’t know you’d like this this much. “Of course, baby.” You sit down on the bench, legs closed. He parts them confidently, eyes not leaving yours as he does so slowly, positioning his body between them. With his face mere inches from yours, he looks up at you again. 
“Do you want me to kiss you?” He guesses. His cheeks red, he clearly looks embarrassed. It turned him on and it turned you on too. 
You nod eagerly, signaling he’d guessed right. He smiles and closes the distance between you, pulling you down and attaching his lips to yours. It starts out slow, tender, experimental- testing the waters. He grows eager pretty fast, though, kissing you harder, his hands traveling to either of your thighs and planting themselves there firmly, squeezing in a way that makes you gasp slightly in surprise. 
He pulls away just to tease you about it. That’s the kind of little shit he is.
“What was that for?”
“Nothing.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” 
“Not this then?”
He squeezes your thigh again and you try to act unbothered.” He notices though, pleased with himself.
“Oh shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He pulls you into a kiss again with no warning, more feral than before, his hand traveling upwards, inside the legs of the shorts you were wearing. 
“Take it off,” you pant out, a stern tone overtaking your words, and he complies without questioning. You smile, pleased with that. You lift your hips slightly for him and he throws the shorts somewhere on the floor behind you. 
He stares at your underwear for a few moments, as if lost in a trance. You laugh. “Hello? You here?”
“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this.”
“Used to what?” You move a hand to caress his face. 
“The fact that I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”
“Aw, do you like that, baby? Does it turn you on?” You ask, your tone almost mocking him.
He only nods his head yes, looking embarrassed.
“That’s good.” You make a show to slowly take off your shirt, a sudden surge of confidence running through your veins at his words, discarding it along with the shorts behind you.  His eyes widen and he mumbles a few words, the volume of his words so low you couldn’t make it out for the life of you, before he just surges forward again, not aiming for your lips this time, but for your jaw. 
“What was that?” You manage to breathe out as he continues his trail of kisses along your jaw.
“What?”
“If you’re gonna talk you’re gonna let me hear it. Got it?”
“Oh-okay.” He continues to place quick, slight pecks along your jawline, but you know exactly what he’s doing.
“You’re not distracting me from that. I wanna know what you said, baby. Wanna hear you.”
“I said- I said uh-“ he gulps. “It’s dumb.”
“That’s okay.”
“I just said ‘fuck me’.”
You let out a small laugh. “Oh. It was dumb,” you mock him again, and you can see he didn’t expect that.
“What?”
“I though you wanted to fuck me,” you joke.
 He doesn’t take it as a joke. “I do. I do I just meant- it was just-“ oh. This was for real. 
“I know, love. I was just teasing you. Okay? You’re being so good to me.”
His eyes almost sparkle at the praise. 
“You know I think I changed my mind.”
“What?” 
“Maybe I should fuck you.”
“What do you mean?”
You look down on him and smile, a genuine sweet smile. “Get up.”
“But-“
“I thought you said you’d do whatever i wanted you to,” you fake-pout. 
He doesn’t say a word before standing back up. You do the same, keeping your body flushed to his. You slowly turn the two of you around, cornering him until the back of his knees hit the bench and pushing him to sit down on it. 
Standing in front of him, you tilt your head to the side as you take in the view. He looked disheveled as ever. You loved it. “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.
“I- I can take it off.”
“Yeah I think you should.”
“What… what do you want me to take off?”
“Let’s go with the shirt first, baby. How about that?”
He nods furiously. “Yeah I can do that,” he takes his shirt off in a millisecond, throwing it with your clothes on the floor. 
“Oh, you look so pretty,” you coo, stepping closer to him and lifting his chin up to look at you. You make your way around the bench to be behind him, and you can see him gulp in anticipation. Fuck, you were loving this a little too much. You trace his biceps with your finger. “Your arms, I love your arms, you know that? So big and strong,” you exaggerate, and he quirks an eyebrow at the suspicious comment. This doesn’t sound like it was getting to a nice praising place. “And your body, I mean your abs. Your thighs, your thighs are so pretty, baby,” you crouch a bit, still behind him, wrapping yourself around his back so you could snake your arms to his thighs, still only tracing them with a single finger. “So how come you lost to me like a bitch?”
That seems to remind him very well of what was happening.
“It- it was one time.”
“One time you lost to me. But you’ve barely ever won, have you?”
He stays quiet. 
“Come on, baby, talk to me…” you pout, snaking your arms around his torso and kissing his neck.
“N-no.”
“Did you like that you lost to me baby?”
Quiet again.
“Did it turn you on?” You whisper in his ear and you can feel him take in big a breath. .
He couldn’t even look at you .
“Oh, pretty boy, I wanna hear your voice!”
He gulps again. “It- it turned me on,” he confesses. 
“I never knew you were into this sort of thing.”
“Me- me neither.”
“Do you like it when I’m stronger than you? When I tell you what to do?”
You remove yourself from his body entirely, and he whips his head at record speed to look at you, desperate for your touch again. You circle the bench once again, standing in front of him. You grab his jaw and lifts his head up to look at you, your other hand messing with his hair. “So pathetic. I’ve barely done anything to you and you’re this hard.”
You finally sit yourself down on his thighs, legs on either side of his torso, and he immediately and instinctively grabs your ass ‘for support’ as he’s always insisted with a grin. 
“You’re so fucking pathetic you’ll do anything I tell you to. Won’t you?” You pout, tilting your head.
“I’ll- I’ll do anything you want.” 
“That’s a good boy,” you mess with and pet his hair again. You loved it when it was just long enough for his curls to appear. 
He shivers. “Can you say it again?”
“Oh, no can do, baby. You’ll have to keep being a good boy to earn it.”
“I’ll- I’ll be a good boy, okay?”
You nod silently, your arms draped around his neck, and you pull yourself closer to get access to his face. You kiss along his jawline slowly, paying extra attention to the spots just under his ears, which made him shiver like crazy. When you find it sufficient, you move down to his neck, and he lets you, tilting his head to the side. You kiss down his neck, trying your best to not leave any marks. He’s still shivering now, and you know him well enough to know he’s okay, but can’t resist teasing him a bit more. 
“Oh no, baby, you’re trembling! Is everything okay?” You feign ignorance.  He doesn’t reply. “Aw are you too horny to speak to me? Is that the issue?” You mock.
He lifts his hips for some friction, an involuntary tell that he was enjoying this too. “Aw, do you like it when I’m mean to you? Huh?” You lift his chin again. He begrudgingly nods his head yes. You smile and move your hand from his chin to his cheeks, squeezing both off them. “Does my baby like it when I’m in control? When I handle you like this? When I call you names?” 
He tries to reply, but can’t really with you squeezing his face like that. 
“Oh I can’t hear you baby!” You let go of his face. “You’re gonna have to say it again.”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, I- I like it when you’re mean to me.” 
“I know, baby boy. I can feel it.” With no other warning, you palm him through his shorts. He was impossibly hard. Knowing he was liking this was for sure improving your confidence. The moment your hand meets his crotch his breathing becomes unsteady and he thrusts his hips up again, wanting more. You start kissing along his neck as you keep feeling him up through the shorts, and then he is gone. He lets himself let out delicious moans you would play on repeat if you could, tilting his head back to grant you better access to his neck. He wants more, and you know he does. But you want to hear him say it. 
After a few minutes, he does. 
“Please take it off.”
You press a gentle kiss to his neck, containing a grin. “What are you talking about, babe?”
“My shorts, take them off, please. Please, take them off.”
You press a quick peck on his lips this time. “You beg so pretty, baby. I think I’ll need more of that.”
He looks confused.
“Anything I tell you, right?” 
He nods. 
“Good. Eat me out.”
His eyes widen at the bluntness of it all. And then he realizes what you meant by needing more of his begging: you weren’t going to solve his little problem all that soon. 
“I- yes. Yeah.” 
You pull yourself off of him and he stands up as quickly as humanly possible, grabbing your hand and yanking you to Sensei’s office, rushing to move everything that was on his desk. You catch his drift and pull yourself up to sit on it. You’re so enthralled you don’t even really have the time to rethink what you’re doing and where you are. Miguel gets himself on his knees, and the sight of it from above is breathtaking. 
“Are you sure you wanna be on your knees? They’re gonna hurt.” You ask him, seriously this time.
“I don’t care,” is all he says, dismissing the thought. He pulls you closer to the edge of the desk, and you let yourself lean back on your elbows. He brings a hand up your thigh and takes off your underwear, you lift your hips up to help. 
He brings both his hands to your thighs, slowly pulling them apart, opening your legs. 
He wastes no time before diving in, startling you when, in a second, his head is between your thighs while his hands squeeze them hard and his mouth is suddenly on you. 
He moves his tongue up and down your clit, occasionally circling around it. Now and then he takes a long lick, from your hole to your clit, letting out a moan from time to time as he tastes you, and he picks up on the shaky breaths and loud moans you let out at that (and the way your hands fly to his hair, slightly pulling it.) 
He moves his tongue to your hole, licking and kissing around it before getting it inside.
It makes you almost want to scream out his name. 
“Oh my god. You’re being so good to me, baby. Please don’t stop-” 
You can feel his smile. 
He takes one of his hands off of your thigh and moves it to thumb at your clit as he keeps fucking you with his tongue. The feeling is heavenly, but you can’t help but want more. 
“Your fingers.” Is all you say, and he gets it.
Normally in a situation like this he’d be teasing you in some way, but right now just the thought of upsetting you with that and having you leaving him to finish himself off, or something down that lane, got him quiet. 
He changes what he’s doing, going back to flicking your clit with his tongue, and slowly inserting one of his fingers. You decide you want to tease a bit more. “That all you got?” You challenge him, knowing exactly what you’re doing. He inserts another finger, not taking the care to do it slowly this time, and he pushes them deep inside you, curling them upwards to make sure you felt it.
You let out a moan that’s so pornographic you’re almost embarrassed at it, but you can feel him grin at it, pleased with the reaction. He keeps on, but at a slow pace. In other instances, you didn’t mind some slow, passionate sex. You loved it, even. But right now you wanted to be fucked.
“Harder.”
He pulls his head up to kiss you. You let him. As you make out, your taste still on his tongue, his fingers thrust harder, deeper inside you, making you moan into his mouth, which Miguel seemed to enjoy a little too much.
You can feel yourself brimming an orgasm, and your words become nonsense as he keeps on, your noises becoming so higher-pitched you can barely register you’re the one making them. 
“Fuck I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fucking-“
It hits you suddenly, killing your train of thought. Your body trembles as he keeps thrusting his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high. He laps it all up gladly, but you pull him away, your clit oversensitive. 
That doesn’t mean you didn’t want more.
“Everything okay?” 
“Yes, baby. You were such a good boy. But I want you to fuck me now.” 
Miguel was still not used to you being this blunt. And honestly neither were you, for the matter. The words just kept coming out. 
“What- what do you want me to do?” 
You get close to his ear and whisper. “Whatever you want, baby.”
His eyes widen. Whatever he wants. 
 He pulls you off the desk and wordlessly takes you back to the locker room. He leaves you for a second to retrieve a condom from his bag. A prepared man, you’d say.
You manage to take a better look at him and laugh. He furrows his eyebrows together. “What?”
“You look so fucked out right now.”
He rolls his eyes at you and takes off his shorts, kicking them away. He goes to pull his boxers down but you stop him, stroking him in an agonizingly slow pace. He lets out a groan. “Please stop, I’m not gonna last.”
“Oh poor you.” You yank his boxers down. His dick is so hard it must be painful. And all from losing a fight and being called mean names. He walks the two of you backwards until your back is against a wall. He puts the condom on and looks at you for a green light. 
“Go on, baby.” 
He nods, pressing his cock into your hole slowly, letting you adjust to the intrusion.
“Fuck.” You breathe out.
“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck? Does it hurt?”
“I’m alright. It was a good fuck.”
“Okay.” He hikes up one of your legs to his waist, and you think he’ll be content with that position, but he hikes up your other leg too, pressing your back even more firmly to the wall and supporting your weight by holding firmly onto the back of your thighs. 
“Woah what are you doing?”
He doesn’t bother responding, thrusting into you experimentally. 
“Holy shit.”
That is enough for him. His thrusts become harder, deeper, faster. He hadn’t realized just how desperate he was until now. 
Hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars with every thrust, it doesn’t take long for his breath to quicken and his thrusts to become sloppier. “I’m gonna- can I-“
Was he trying to ask for permission to cum? Holy fucking shit, that was hot.
“Shh, it’s okay baby. You’ve been so good. You can cum.”
“Thankyouthankyouthankyou,” he chanted.
 You laugh as his desperation, but it quickly turns into a moan, with Miguel eager to cum and fucking you so hard now you can’t even understand how he could still hold up your weight while doing that. Bless you universe for giving you a strong, strong boyfriend. But all of that didn’t matter now, because he was fucking you so good you could feel the familiar sensation of an orgasm building again.
“Please don’t stop.” That was the first time you begged him for something the whole time.
“I won’t, mi amor.” Oh, that broke you. That one pet name didn’t come out all that frequently, so when it did, you felt giddy on the inside. 
With a few more thrusts, both of you reach your high, and at that point Miguel did have to pull you down, although your legs currently trembled so hard it was a little difficult to stand, but he helps you out after tying the condom up and throwing it away.
“Holy shit,” you finally let out. 
“Holy shit,” he agrees. 
“What were you saying about your loser kink again?”
“Will you shut up about that?” He smiles.
“Was I too mean to you? I might’ve gotten a little carried away."
He looks down to the floor in embarrassment as if he hadn’t just fucked you into oblivion. “I liked it.”
“That’s good baby. So, shower?”
“Yeah you stink,” he makes a disgusted face, plugging his nose and everything just to irritate you. 
You roll your eyes at him. 
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A/N: pls be kind to me and cut me some slack i've never posted smut before 😭 i promise ive had sex before 😭 fighting for my life lmao
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kisses4kaia · 8 months ago
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he shouldn’t like it this much.
that’s all patrick is thinking as art’s warm, unsure mouth works its way onto his painfully hard cock. your voice coos in art’s reddened ear, manicured hand tugging and swirling his blonde curls. you’re guiding him, teaching him how to open up his throat and take all 8 inches of patrick.
art’s tongue slides over patrick’s weeping tip, causing the brunette to squirm and nearly growl. you see patrick’s hand twitch on the chair’s wooden arm, and he hears you ask something out of earshot to the blonde boy. he’s hesitant for a moment before he nods, letting you peel patrick’s calloused hand off of the arm and place in on art’s head. naturally—instinctively—patrick’s hand twists and pulls on the golden tresses.
“go ahead and lick from the base to the top, yeah, good. he likes that, angel,” you’re scratching the nape of art’s neck with one hand and patrick’s muscly thigh with the other, both parties being grateful for the extra stimulation.
he shouldn’t like it this much. he shouldn’t be this close to cumming. this is wrong, and he knows it. he has tashi and you have art and this is all wrong; but the taboo of it all just makes him hotter and hotter hotter—and now he’s cumming down arts throat without warning.
he doesn’t even realize how far and hard he’s slammed his friends head down onto him, choked gasps and pleads weaving with his squirming thighs and your nipping on his chest and neck. patrick only realizes what he’s done when his best friend looks prettier than he’s ever looked with tears in his eyes and his cum dribbling from his pink lips. he wanted to push him onto his chest and make him sob, let you watch, if you wanted—tashi, too.
he shook the thoughts away as he wiped the spend from art’s lip and stuck it into his own mouth, making eye contact with you.
and when it’s all over, your praises don’t ever end, only after you’ve all bathed and patrick’s been dropped off back home to an unsuspecting tashi and art falls asleep on your chest do you let your voice go out.
you think you’ll invite your favorite brunette lady next time, for you felt rather lonely with your two boys.
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ghouljams · 16 days ago
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Hephaestus!Nikto and Aphrodite!reader remind me of that one audio that goes “scary? my god, you’re divine.”
He's been going about this all wrong, Nikto realizes. All wrong. He's been too big, too flashy, too... too not himself. This time he can feel it in the twist of his pliers, in the soft enamel and carefully applied resin. Something worth your eyes upon it. Simple as it may be.
The stars are still dancing in the sky when you awake. They shine with a cold glow that passes like dreams through your gauzy curtains, so dark and distant compared to the soft glow of embers.
You sit upright so quickly it makes you dizzy.
"Nikto!"
The expansion of his chest, the intake of breath, stokes the coals that burn under his skin. Sparks flick from the scars that lace over his skin, breaking like ash from his body. You can hardly see his face, but the scars around his mouth seem to blaze like an inferno, melting against his tongue like volcanic rock. He's finally coming to bed, he must be!
"Zolotse," he grunts, you wait for him to decide if/how he wants to speak to you. In the time you've known Nikto you've learned he isn't hesitant, but whatever he is stills him just the same. Thoughtful might be the better way to describe it, methodical. In all things.
He doesn't speak, but settles a knee on the soft mattress and stills your heart. You tip your head into his searching hands, feel the brush of fingertips against your neck, and the cool brush of something metal. His hands push at your hair, pushing the metal through before twisting it back. You shiver at the feeling, enraptured by the draw of his hands.
Gone too soon.
You grab his arm as he pulls away, turns to leave, his weight vanishing from the bed.
"Please stay," you beg. You're truly not above begging. Not at this point.
No when his lips are parted by flame and his fingers twitch against your own.
"We-" he pauses, and your stomach flips as his knee returns to the mattress, "yes." One word has never set you ablaze so quickly. You contain the squeal of joy that bubbles in your chest as he awkwardly lays down beside you, your bed warming with his fire.
You sleep tucked against his side.
You recognize this feeling, even if you've only ever known it by your own name.
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vampcubus · 5 months ago
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On the wrestling to grinding w/ best friend Kyo, your head resting on his forearm as he's leaning on his elbow above you, other hand on your hip. Wet kisses trailed up your neck and his hot breath fanning across your cheek. Every now and then there's a particularly rough thrust as he murmurs apologies in your ear. This isn't how he wanted it to go with you but he can't bring himself to stop
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, best friend!kyojuro rengoku, fem!reader, modern au, slight size kink, play wrestling -> dry humping pipeline, premature ejaculation. sub!kyojuro implied but the dynamic isn't too prominent in this one.
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A TV drama debate quickly turned into playful shoving, which naturally turned into roughhousing, a common practice between you and the man you've known since you could walk. The show is paused in the background, illuminating your bodies in the darkness of your living room as you wrestle on the couch you were previously cuddling on.
You continue to argue over the protagonist's love life, though you put too much weight into a lunge, sending both of you tumbling onto the floor. Ouch. 
“Oof!” Kyojuro grunts, the wind temporarily knocked out of him as his back meets the carpet, and your body follows, falling atop his. 
He rolls over, caging your body beneath his, undeterred by the tumble and you're reminded of just how big he is. He isn't the gangly teen you remember pushing around anymore, but a grown man. It's difficult to reconcile that dorky teen with the pile of muscle he's become. Jeez, when did he bulk up so much? And as you clutch uselessly at his bulging biceps to shove him off you, you can't help but feel him up a little longer than necessary.
Kyojuro's warm weight atop you is all-consuming, sapping the strength from your limbs his body heat melts into yours. Still, you twist in his hold, ignoring the fluttering in your chest to capture him in a headlock. He knocks your arms out of the way, hands sliding beneath you to grip your shoulders, and one of his muscled thighs hooking beneath yours to prevent you from kicking.
You huff, unable to do much but squirm. And squirm you do, never one to give up. 
He loves your fire almost as much as he loves the way you pout when you lose. Before he can gloat, your hips shift over his groin at just the right angle. Kyojuro's bulge is almost perfectly lodged between your thighs, the warmth between them radiating through your clothing. His breath hitches, muscles tensing in response before a violent shudder overtakes him. 
Though he fights to regain control of himself, his cock throbs in his pants, and Buddha he hopes you can't feel him getting hard. You'd tease him endlessly for it, he's sure of it.
Get a hold of yourself, Kyojuro. His eyes pinch shut, cheeks ruddy with warm blood as he feels his body fill with fire. When his golden eyes re-open, he's met with an expression on your face that nearly makes him moan aloud. 
Your brows are twisted in concentration, perhaps to hide how flustered you are by his proximity. Your lips parted slightly, chest heaving from the exertion of your scuffle. Buddha forgive him, his body moves without thought, hips rutting against yours. His swelling erection drags deliciously over your clothed cunt, eliciting a deep rumbling groan that vibrates his whole chest.
Your nails prick into his back, leaving behind red crescent moons on his skin and fuck that feels good too.
Kyojuro murmurs a slurred apology, dipping his head down as his shame paints his cheeks red. Even as he apologizes his hips won't stop, and the feeling of his warm breath on your throat makes you shiver. The shock of the realization that your best friend is humping you leaves you gaping stupidly, and for some reason, you don't tell him to stop. 
You don't punch his shoulder and laugh it off, only stare with widening pupils as the blond all but ruts his hardness against you like an overeager puppy. Why is this so hot? Wrong in many ways obviously, but it’s intoxicating nonetheless to see him unraveling this way. And God, his cock, even through his joggers you can feel how thick he is.
“Kyo,” you began, a protest on the tip of your tongue but your breath hitches as his lips meet the tender flesh of your neck. "K-kyojuro, what are you doing...”
“I can't stop. I'm sorry, I unnnh,” Kyojuro nearly whines, his hand sliding down from your shoulder to grip your hip as his enthusiastic thrusts start to shove you across the floor. "You feel so good.”
“Don't say things like that, idiot,” you hiss, though even as you scold him, you can feel yourself getting slick. His leaking tip nudges your clit just right and you can't stop the soft sound of approval from escaping, nor your legs from locking around his bucking hips. "Fuck, don't stop.”
His cock twitches, aching against your pussy as your perceived acceptance of his desperate act sends him into a frenzy. His weight presses further onto yours, trapping you between his heavy body and the floor. When you toss your head back, his forearm cushions it.
“Love you. Love you – ohh.”
This isn't how he wanted this to go, how he's always imagined himself confessing his feelings for you. But he can't deny either of you this maddening friction, every single rational thought stolen away by your gasping moans.
“Can feel how big you are. Shit, c’mere.”
Your fingers wind in his flaxen hair, gathering it in your fist close to his scalp and tugging his head away from your neck to slant your lips over his. Your clumsy kiss is electric, all he’s ever imagined it would be and not enough all at once, and his hips stutter against yours. He shakes all over, eyes rolling back with a choked cry into your mouth as he abruptly cums in his pants.
“Sorry, I’m… fuuuck,” he whimpers against your lips, the feeling of your tongue slipping past his parted lips forcing another spurt out of him. “Ah. Hmm, wow.”
His half-lidded, apologetic gaze meets yours, a bead of sweat dripping down his hairline.
“What the fuck,” you start, half-chuckling half in disbelief of what just happened. His face burns with the humiliation of not only humping his best friend like some pervert but also blowing his load from you kissing him, like a loser. Before he can apologize again, he takes in your dilated pupils and the way your hips still undulate beneath his heavy weight. “That was so hot.”
In his post-orgasmic haze, he can only groan in response, pressing his face into your shoulder.
“And pathetic,” you teased, and for some reason his softening cock twitches. And of course you notice, because he’s still slotted against your cunt, which is no doubt a sloppy mess of your own slick beneath your clothes. You hadn’t cum, but you hardly care, still on cloud nine from simply watching your favorite person unravel.
“So cruel,” he huffs, nipping at your shoulder in retaliation. 
“You like it. A bit too much apparently– yeowch!” another, harder bite follows, and you erupt in giggles as his thick digits dig into your sides, tickling you. “Touchy. Now are you gonna get up and let me fuck you properly, or are you too tuckered out, pretty boy?”
The way he scrambles off of you and starts pulling at his clothes is way too cute.
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madamechrissy · 28 days ago
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Keep This Low Key
💜 Pairings: Choso x Fem reader- some Gojo x reader- Rating: Explicit- MDNI
💜 Contents/Warnings: Choso has a tongue ring for reasons... oh and a dick piercing for other reasons. In this chapter, teasing, sexual tension, cunnilingus, explicit sex, lots of confusion, jealous angst. Warning- the reader and Choso are with other ppl (just kissing but still) friends w/benefits
💜 Word Count: this chap - 9k
💜 Summary: You have been Choso's best friend for years, and one night he has a date with Yuki, his girlfriend, while you have a date with Ino, your boyfriend, only for them both to break up with you at the same time! You all think of calling each other, but run right into each other. Choso brings you home since you didn't even have your car, and you two are crying over a couple beers and a silly movie, only to have a sudden idea. Why not say fuck dating, fuck heartbreak, and just fuck each other?
No drama, no mess, no upset, and you two are such good friends, nothing can go wrong, right? The only agreement is no feelings, and if you all find a s/o, you'll end things. But the moment Choso opens his heart to you, and the moment you start falling, things get messy, as you realize he's the best you've had, and you're falling hard. Will you all stay friends, become more, or will everything blow up?
✨️Comments and reblogs appreciated ✨️
Chapter Two 💜 Masterlist 💜 Playlist 💜
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Chapter Three
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“What do you mean… you’re… going… fuck you feel s’good.” Choso is moaning in your ear as he’s fucking you, bent over the bathroom sink, his cock pumping inside of you, even with a condom he feels how good and perfect your pussy is, clenching down on him. “On a date with him?”
“Cho… ah!” You scream out, arching your ass up for more of his strokes, the way his piercing hits your g spot makes you incoherent, you’re soaking his length all the way down to his and your thighs, making  a sticky mess. Your eyes catch his expression in the mirror, as fucked out as yours. “S’not a- mmm- date!”
Tattooed, strong biceps wrap around your body, those big hands gripping and squishing your breasts as he shoves his cock in deep, making your eyes roll back, as you begin cumming all over his cock. You both share a moan, Choso is burying his face in your neck, hot breath tickling your ear as he exhales, soft dark hair against your cheek.
He feels so good inside you, so good your knees are weak. You are nearly collapsing, now Choso has to hold you up entirely, fucking into you more, making your tits jiggle with each thrust. “Why… him…”
“Cho… you have… a date too!” You scowl at his reflection now, earning his cute little pout, his brows together.
“But- fuck, pussy is so good - you shouldn’t.”
“Then you- ah - shouldn’t! Just… friends, yeah?” You say softly, hiccuping on your words as he pinches your nipples, twisting them as he pounds your cervix.
“Cum on your best friend’s cock right, then, hmm?” He orders, so demanding and sexy suddenly, and you obey, cumming so hard you’re blinded this time, pulsing all around his cock. Choso moans out, pushing in deep and rocking his hips, turning your face to the side, so that you look at him.
You choke up when his violet eyes hit you, trembling and trying to focus, he’s fuzzy, you’re so fucked out you’re dizzy, and you taste his sweet breath on yours lips now. You lean forward, kissing him, which is your undoing, it has been the past couple times before this, when you kiss him you can’t pretend, can’t pretend you don’t care he’s going on a date today, and so are you.
You can’t pretend this is how friends behave.
But you can’t ruin what you do have, he feels too fucking perfect inside you, and now he’s throbbing, thickening, you feel him starting to cum hot in his condom, that heat inside your entrance, walls flutterign around it. And fuck if you’re not wishing instead he could bust in you without one. Which is fucking insane, but friends certainly don’t do that, do they?
Choso whimpers against your lips, vulnerable and sweet as he cums, rocking gently now, cupping your face so gently. “You’re so pretty, you’re so beautiful-”
“D-don’t say that.” You manage to whisper, tears pricking your eyes, making him sigh as he kisses you again, still snug inside you, your body pressed against his sink, legs dangling how he has you, has all of you.
“You are, I told you I’ll n-never lie. Your pussy is perfect.” You struggle not to speak your heart, you’ll ruin this, and now that Choso is going on a date, you don’t know how long this will continue.
“You feel good in me too. I love it.” You whisper, before you can think better. Choso eases out then, throwing out the condom after he sets you to stand on wobbly knees, holding onto you.
“I love being inside you. Never felt anything better.” He’s brushing your hair back, and you’re shaking your head. “What’s wrong, angel?”
“Don’t even call me that.” You push at him, pulling up your shorts and yanking down your top, he tries to slide it up, frowning as he kisses on your breasts.
“What, why can’t I? I always have.” He murmurs against your skin, and you tremble at his touch, goosebumps rising before you pull away, looking in the mirror and fixing your hair.
“I just can’t hear it. When’s your date?” He scowls then, something Choso really never does, dark brows low over his eyes.
“When’s yours?.
“Not a date, and I asked you first.”
“That’s different, she’s just some girl and grabbing something to eat. He’s Gojo. You simped over him all of-”
“I know, ugh. It’s just a drink, Cho, to catch up. I’m not a little lovesick girl anymore, you know.” You sigh, putting yourself together, looking in the mirror, avoiding his violet gaze. Your legs are literally still shaking, you can barely collect yourself, breaths coming in little pants.
“And when is the ‘not date’?” He asks again, you look at him, exasperated.
“Cho, we agreed we wouldn’t date seriously again, that’s the point of this, right? Being friends with benefits? So what makes you think I’ll be serious about him.”
“Because he’s always been your fixation.”
“Yes well, we both had them I guess.” You murmur, stepping out of the bathroom then, it’s too small, too overheated. You try to take several breaths to compose yourself, as he follows you.
“If you leave every time we have sex, I’m gonna start worrying.”
“You know you’re amazing at it. I just don’t wanna make it weird.” He pauses you now, tilting your chin up, pressing you against the front door of his home now.
“You can still hang out with me, you know. I missed you.” He whispers, you sigh, nodding then.
“Me too. I have a bit of time before I get ready, do you?”
“I have to practice, but you should come watch, yeah?” You nod then, smiling, you’re overthinking all this, he’s just Cho Bear, right?
You’re his best friend. That’s it.
Best friend who he just…
“I’d love to watch you all. I’ll get ready and come see you all before I go on the… it’s not a date you know.”
He purses his lips. “Mmhmm.”
“And you didn’t answer about yours.” You tap him on the chest playfully, seeing the strong muscles tense as you barely touch him, fingertips trailing up his tattoo slowly, watching his breath catch before you pull away. “Sorry.”
“Please don’t apologize.” He holds your hand now, both of you looking at each other in the quiet of the living room, it’s too fucking intense, you have to pull away, before you say something stupid… “But no, we’re just getting dinner tonight, that’s all really.”
“She’s pretty.” His brows draw together a bit, sighing.
“Gojo’s pretty.” You giggle then.
“You’re pretty, Cho Bear.” You tease, and he leans down now, cupping your face gently.
“You’re beautiful.”
Fuck.
You’re trembling as you hold in so much, how can he be so very casual about saying things like that, about wrecking your resolve. “Beautiful best friend?”
“Mmhmm. Prettiest friend ever.” You smile a bit, feeling your chest tighten, aching to draw his lips to yours. How does adding the physical suddenly make your mind so mushy? “So you’re not going out on this seriously?”
“Not at all, just for… like the hell of it.”
“If he hurts you I’ll kill him.”
“Cho!” He just glares.
His phone rings then, and you use it as your exit, you truly need to breathe, ignore the fact that your pussy is still throbbing from aftershocks of him inside you, ignore the tenderness on your throat from his big hands. You can’t complicate things further with Choso, you currently can’t handle how much he is occupying your every single thought.
When you’re home and getting dressed for later, you can’t help but wonder how you both got into this, well it was your idea. And it was your idea to show up and Choso’s place to fuck him this morning, it’s not as if Choso called you, no you called him and came over, eager for him after a week of not having him at all. You had avoided the shit out of him after that concert.
Seeing him with that girl hurt, especially since he’d just been inside of you, raw too, did that now not mean something? To a girl who always wanted things to be so special, now you wonder at yourself. Because Choso felt special, and Ino had never felt that way, it felt more like what was supposed to happen, it was the progression of a serious relationship.
It didn’t hurt that Choso and Yuki had gotten so close and your friendship was strained, seeing him in that mall ring shopping with Yuji had made you realize just how serious he was for her. You and Ino had talked a bit about future plans but weren’t as far as that.
Choso doesn’t know you saw him, but you did, and any lingering wonders about him that day you had put far behind you. Now, everything has shifted and changed, you’re running out on your best friend after his cock is inside you, purely because you don’t know what will spill out of your mouth.
“Baby girl, you’re dickmatized.” Your best friend says now on video chat, Utahime. You sigh, smiling at her, pretty brunette and sassy as fuck. “How the fuck are you gonna go out with Gojo though!?”
“You just hate him.”
“Of course I do! Oooh, that outfit. Slay.” You smile and do a little spin in the pretty outfit, it’s chilly today so it’s a tan sweater with black tights and little brown boots. “Add a belt!”
“Of course. Now listen… what do you mean dickmatized? By Cho?”
She lights up a blunt, you jokingly try to grab it from the phone screen, making her snort in laughter. “Yes, by Cho. You absolutely are, look at you.”
“Dickmatized. I’m dickmatized.” You mutter to yourself now, smacking your forehead and sighing. “That’s all it is!”
“When you get good dick, it really fucks your mind up. So first off, you need to make sure that’s all it is, because that boy seemed in love with you.”
“He loved Yuki, ‘Hime.” You slip on a light tan belt, admiring the outfit in the mirror, bending over now to slap on some lip gloss.
“He definitely was down bad for her. But Gojo in response!? Really.”
“I may have seen Cho with a pretty blond girl before I said yes.”
Utahime sighs at that, shaking her head, pretty black locks falling as she leans forward. “Feelings from just a couple dick sessions? God help you.”
You glare now. “Bye!”
“Bitch… sorry.” You snort and roll your eyes. “Don’t fuck Gojo for the love of all that is good. Who knows what he’s got, he’s a hoe.”
“Don’t I know it. But… I mean I’m literally fucking my friend. Can I judge currently?” She sighs, hitting her blunt as you pick back up the phone.
“Trust me you’re a long way from him. You know, I love Choso, I really do, but be careful. He falls fast and hard, don’t wanna accidentally hurt him.” You nod now, smiling into the phone.
“I agree. Ugh, I miss you! Come back home soon.”
“I will be home next week, let me enjoy my vacay. Horny ass.” You glare and she laughs at you. “What I can’t joke, you were always such a good girl.”
“I know I’m corrupted.”
“Dickmatized.”
“That. All right, love you!”
“Love you too. Don’t fuck Gojo.”
“Jesus.” You hang up the phone, and none other than Satoru Gojjo is texting you, your heart does still do that little high school jump, despite the shit memories.
‘Gojo I… what do you mean? What did I do wrong?’ you’d had tears in your eyes as you had asked the question, dancing with Satoru Gojo at prom finally. He looks down at you with cold, crystal blue eyes, ones you could stare into forever.
‘You want things so serious, and I just am interested in fun. It’s nothing personal, sweets.’
‘I can be fun!’ You pout and he smirks a bit, like the charming jerk he could be, his big hand pressing your back, against his chest. You immediately get flustered, and he’s chuckling.
‘You’re a good girl. It’s cute but not my thing. I plan on having a pretty fun prom night, if you catch me?’ he looks over to the several girls, cheerleaders of course it was what he usually went for, not shy girls like you with your nose in a book. It had been some miracle he’d ever noticed you.
‘I… Gojo we can… um…’ Your heart races as he finishes the dance, leaning over and pressing his lips against yours, when he tries to deepen the kiss, hands slipping down to your ass, you tense a bit, so nervous. ‘I just need a little time is all!’
‘You keep being a cute little virgin, it’s all good. Thanks for the dance.’ You’re trembling now, feeling sobs choke you up, he raises a thin brow. ‘You crying?’
‘N-no. I… Gojo, please…’ Gojo leaves then, arms around two of the girls, throwing you an arrogant peace sign, you’re alone in the middle of the dance floor, everyone watching you, whispering about you.
Suddenly you’re in his arms, Choso’s arms, he’s pulling you against him, swaying side to side, and you blink and look up at him. He’d opted to wear a black band shirt under a suit jacket, his hair spiked up in places, choker on his neck. He’s still your best friend Choso, even at a formal prom.
‘You don’t have to, people are making fun of me.’ You whisper, voice breaking in the middle, Choso frowns then.
‘You’re my best friend, and no one gets to make fun of you. What happened?’ You ease in his hold, a hand on his shoulder, the neon lights of spinning disco balls illuminating his handsome face.
Handsome.
Choso was handsome.
But, he was only your friend.
And your best friend, right?
‘He broke up with me.’
‘On the dance floor!? At prom!?’
‘Because I’m too… I’m not fun, Cho.’ He spins you then, frowning.
‘I think you’re fun.’
You feel your cheeks heating up embarrassingly. ‘I’m not fun, Cho, not like he wants.’
Choso blinks, glaring now. ‘So because you won’t fuck him so soon he’s leaving you? What kind of dude does that?’
‘I tensed when we kissed, I didn’t go far enough-’
‘Shh.’ He holds you against his chest now, your arms are around his neck, you’re feeling so safe, hiding your emotions against his black jacket. ‘Don’t change for anyone, you’re perfect the way you are.’
You shake yourself out of your reverie as you pull up at Choso’s home, hearing the music blaring from the garage already. Satoru Gojo had truly been terrible back in high school, it was a mean thing to do, and Choso had come to your rescue. But… he’d done it because of your bond, how do you go and ruin that?
“Dickmatized.” You murmur again, walking in the garage now, Megumi smiles a bit at you, waving, but Yuji runs up and hugs you like a happy puppy.
“Hey! You’re here!” You laugh a bit as he picks you up and spins you.
“Holy… you got strong, what happened?” He holds a well toned bicep out and flexes, grinning, you just laugh at how sweet he is. “Working out?”
“All the time! My muscles are almost as big as Choso’s.” You smile as Chose walks back in, seeing you and smiling, licking his lower lip, you damn near overheat when you see that ball on the barbell of his ring, remembering the insane things he did last week with it.
You’d been so eager this morning you’d told him to just fuck you, and you’d been soaking wet before he touched you, that’s how stupid your body was reacting. You’d kissed him and throbbed, eagerly stripping him until you all somehow ended up in his bathroom, you’re still not sure how, you’d been too entranced in all of his kisses, his touches.
“Hey angel, you came.” He says with a smile, coming to hug you now, fuck even his hugs get you, his scent…
Dickmatized.
“Of course I did, lemme see what you all got.”
“A challenge.” Megumi says, swirling his drumsticks, and Yuji is bouncing up at the chance to impress you, you barely can look Choso in the damn eyes, so intense, not knowing how to just act normal. You needed to.
You sit now and watch them as they start the set, listening to the beat of the drums, the bass from the guitar, and Choso’s smooth as silk voice. His long fingers with those painted black nails wrap the mic, and he starts singing lyrics you’ve heard a ton of times, but for some reason it’s as if he’s singing them to you.
You’re feeling like some dumb high school girl again, and that was years ago, gosh almost six years since that prom night. When you finally stopped being such a lovesick fool. But you can’t stop your heart from racing, your eyes from trailing down Choso’s long torso in this tight black shirt of his, that shows his rippling biceps and veiny forearms.
Arms that had you bent over a bathroom sink this morning.
Stop that.
The music wraps around you in the garage, you’re focusing on it now, focusing on the three of them. Choso is the best older brother in the whole fucking world, taking care of Yuji as he had, and you love to see them interact, Yuji’s adorable infectious grin shining out from a serious, focused Megumi, and an intense Choso. You know all the words to the songs, singing along silently, so as not to overtake Choso.
You have heard them play a hundred times, but they’ve never felt like this before, those lyrics Choso wrote, surely about Yuki.
And all I see when I close my eyes is you.
Choso’s eyes keep catching yours and you can’t stop the tightening in your tummy, while you mouth the words with him. Yuki, surely. Couldn’t be you, this was a song from months ago. So don’t be so stupid, so foolish, don’t think that you’re suddenly in his heart because he fucks you.
You suck at this.
You watch him, his hand moving over the strings of the guitar slung over his chest, along with Yuji now, hips swaying with a grace that’s almost mesmerizing, his eyes closed in concentration, those long lashes fluttered shut. You see the sweat dripping from his brow just so, making his neck glimmer with the thin sheen as he leans closer to sing again.
Like a jolt to the heart.
There’s a jolt in your entire body as you keep watching him, trying to also focus on Megs and Yuji so you weren’t so fucking obvious, but the way Choso’s body  is swaying with the rhythm makes you damn near drool. You start to feel your heart race faster along with every beat and every word, and you’re pretending it’s the music or the way he’s looking at you.
You’re up and dancing now to the beat, they all smile as they play and watch you, you’re letting it pick up your hips and move you, moving to the rhythm. Megumi’s drumming is like a heartbeat, steady and strong, driving the song forward. Yuji’s playing is more intense than ever, as if he’s trying to outdo Choso in some unspoken competition.
But Choso…
Choso opens his eyes again, looking directly at you. You hold your breath, feeling like the entire world has stopped spinning for just a moment as he finishes the lyrics.
And I fall for you. Over and over again.
The music dies down, and the garage is filled with the sound of your own racing heart thrumming in your ears, for a moment you’re so entranced by his violet eyes and those words you just stand there. You clear your throat then, jumping up and down and clapping as they all smile.
“It was great, guys. Really. Oh my god you’re gonna kill the next show!” You say then, and they are beaming now, especially Yuji, who comes up and hugs you again, you notice Choso glaring just a bit.
Confusing.
“You’ll be at the next show right?” Megumi asks you now, you nod then, earning a little quirk of his lips as he fixes up the spiky black hair of his. “Good.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. I told Cho I never missed one, I just had to hide because… well Yuki hated me.” Yuji rolls his eyes, and Choso tenses as they put up their instruments.
“She was so mean.” Yuji says. “I’m glad we didn’t buy a ring.”
“Yuji…” Choso starts, but you smile.
“For the best maybe?”
Choso nods, no need for you to say that fucking Ino was partially because you watched that shopping trip happen. Now you know he didn’t buy one but…
Choso’s phone starts dinging and he peers at it. “The date?” Yuji asks.
“Not a date, I don’t want to date any time soon. Just grabbing a bite with a big fan is all.”
“Uh huh sure.” Choso scoffs, shoving at Yuji, as your own phone goes off, and Satoru’s name pops up.
Jock Gojo: (You’re not sorry for this name in your phone btw) I’m heading in twenty, sweets.
You: I’ll head that way.
Jock Gojo: Sounds good.
“I have to head out, you all. Thanks so much for showing me your music, you know I am proud of you all.” Megumi shyly smiles and Yuji beams, but Choso’s mouth is stern as he looks down at your phone curiously.
“Let me walk you to your car.” Choso says, you wave at the boys as he leads you over, you inhale the fresh air, trying to let the breeze cool you down, you’re overheated when Choso is standing so close to you.
You tuck your hair behind your ear nervously, Choso takes in your outfit now, hands gently brushing down the soft knit of your sweater. “Do you like it? It’s cool enough to wear now.”
“It’s pretty on you. But you always look pretty.” You bite on your lip now, unable to look at him, just watching his hand against your sleeve as it traces it, the tattooed hand that could wrap your throat so easy.
“Thanks, Cho Bear.” You playfully nudge him, and he clears his throat, smiling down at you, as if coming out of his own thoughts.
“Just a drink huh?”
“Yeah. Not a whole dinner like you, Casanova.”
Choso scoffs, leaning against your car, crossing his arms. “It’s literally a bite to eat, nothing fancy. I wouldn’t have said yes if you hadn’t told me to go ‘have fun’. I took it as you…”
“You seemed to be having a lot of fun.” He blinks then and you sigh.
“What do you mean?”
“After we hooked up at the club, well I came to find you, to apologize for being so weird about this. And…”
“Shit.” He exhales, hand on his face now.
“No, it’s cool. I just… I mean we just had… and like raw even? And it was so weird to me, to see you with someone immediately-”
“I’m so-”
“No, no it’s fine. Swear. It is just my preconceived notions of what sex was supposed to be. I am glad you had fun, and I hope you have a lot of fun with her.” Choso’s eyes are serious, mouth in a stern line when you gently put your hand on his shoulder.
“That hurt your feelings, stop lying.” You gulp, shaking your head. “You think after being best friends for ten years I don’t know you?”
“But it shouldn’t have.”
“But it did.”
You feel him looking right through you, calling you the fuck out. You shake your head now, heading to the driver's side door, bending to open it up, but he’s right against your back, you feel his entire body hard and strong, so tall he takes you over, his hands braced right on the hood of your car as he does. You feel his breath against your cheek as he bends down low.
“Cho what are you doing?” You whisper, looking back at him, he’s too close, so close you can’t think, a hand slipping up your waist now, reaching around to splay the expanse of it over your sweater.
“I’m sorry that hurt you, you don’t deserve to be hurt. I swear I was just upset because you ran and…”
“It’s okay I’ll never be mad at you.”
“Promise?” You nod and he exhales, his lips far too close. “If I said what’s on my mind you’d be mad.”
“What is it? Annoyed about Gojo?” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Nothing you say would make me mad at you. You’re the sweetest friend in the world.”
“Am I so sweet?” Choso’s hand presses against your tummy as his lips press against the shell of your ear, making you tremble. “Thinking of how I’d love to pump cum in your pussy before you go out with him.”
You gasp, his words talking right to your damn pussy, you feel him pressing more and imagine him there so deep. “You…”
“Dripping my cum all night.” His hand lowers, barely brushing against the hood of your clit over your tights. You’re shaking so much your knees are almost knocking together, ass arching up, feeling his strong thighs against it.
“You don’t mean that.” You say softly, earning his quiet laugh, he ghosts his fingers over your clit, before letting you go, and you exhale, looking at him incredulously now. “You’re what… kidding?”
“You think I’m kidding?”
“It’s not like you Cho!”
“Do you really know me all the way?” He asks, and you bite your lip again, turning to look up at him, the car now cold against your back. He gently takes your lower lip out of your teeth’s grip, thumb brushing over the indentations.
“I know you like the back of my hand. I thought so at least. You can’t say things like that, they confuse me.”
“What’s confusing? Me cumming inside you?” He leans forward, cold metal necklace brushing on your exposed collarbone, he’s tilting your chin up, you’re lost in the violet depths of his eyes, as the lights are setting outside, the night descending, encapsulating everything in pinks and purples.
“We said it was too intimate.”
“Maybe I want-” Your phone goes off again, you glance at it, watching his jaw lock now. “Gotta go?”
“Yeah. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
“Yeah.” He exhales, backing away now, just in time for Yuji to run out, waving goodbye. Choso closes your door, and you gulp down the horrible feelings as you drive off.
What the fuck was that.
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Satoru Gojo whistles as you enter the martini bar, you smile a bit and roll your eyes, he’s in a fancy expensive ass dress shirt and slacks, looking like a million bucks, you feel just a little underdressed. You nervously look down at your outfit, as his icy blue eyes follow. “You look good, fuck.”
“I’d have dressed up more if I knew you were.” He takes you by the hand, letting you do a spin, whistling and earning your flushed cheeks.
“No, the sweater dress is cute as fuck. I just like to dress up everywhere, literally go to the gas station like this.” He grins, a flash of white teeth.
“Prissy ass.” You tease, and he laughs, still holding your hand in his, and fuck Gojo’s fingers were long, ridiculously huge, taking yours over completely. You look down nervously, so curious about him then.
“Thanks for coming, I thought you’d blow me off.”
“I should have. Pulled a prom.”
His mouth forms an O, brows knitting together. “Ouch. Sit, sit.”
You sit next to him, and he holds up two fingers, getting one of the waitresses' attention. She fawns over him, and he’s winking at her, looking at her name tag lazily. “Can I get two martinis for us please? Oh and some of that famous cake.”
“Coming right away Mr. Gojo!” She runs off and you expect Gojo to stare at her ass honestly, but he doesn’t, he leans back in his seat, an arm around your shoulders casually, you inhale that extravagant cologne of his as you lean in a bit.
“You still wear the same scent.” You say, before you curse yourself.
“You remember that?” He asks, a brow raised, you nod a bit. “Huh. Yeah, I have always worn it, that’s true. Ya like it?”
He’s wiggling his brows now, with a big ass grin. “It smells good, yeah, I guess.”
“You guess. Well, you smell good too, sweet. Like cupcakes.”
You can’t stop your giggle. “Cupcakes!”
“Mmm, my favorite. Vanilla.”
“Well I’m not vanilla.”
“No?” You’re heating up again, ignoring his smirk with a little glare, taking the drinks the waitress hands, she also hands Satoru her number.
You can’t blame her, there was a time you were obsessed with him. You still feel a bit of the butterflies, especially at the proximity you two were in, but you know also what you’re feeling for Choso is intense. And it’s something you shouldn’t be feeling, or even thinking about truly.
I wanna cum inside you
What the ever loving fuck was that!?
“So how have you been? What work do you do?” Satoru asks, and you smile a bit then.
“I actually do admin work.”
“Boring.”
“Very.” You giggle then. “Your work is boring too.”
“Sure the fuck is. But I tend to find my own fun.” He’s sipping his martini, crossing his legs now, fingertips slipping down where your sweater slides off one shoulder, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
“Banging assistants on your desk?” You quip.
“How’d you know? Want a new job?”
“Oh god.” You can’t help your laugh as he’s chuckling, sipping on your martini, exhaling a bit. “Mmm, yummy.”
“They have the best ones here. Ooh, look cake.” Satoru always loved sweets, you have no clue how he’s so slender when you used to watch him eat cookies and donuts by the dozen. Another waitress brings over a big piece of chocolate cake, decadent and fluffy.
“Okay it does look good.” Satoru picks up a fork now, handing you a little bite, you lean close and take it off the fork, licking your lip and shutting your eyes with a little moan.
“Damn, what do you sound like cumming if you sound like that from biting some cake?”
“Oh god, really Gojo!” You shove at him now, and he’s eyeing your lips hungrily, you nervously lick them again, earning his exhale. “Just because I’m not a goody goody doesn’t mean I’ll put out you know.”
“I didn’t ask that, you’re thinking about it.”
“Sure am not.” You take another sip now.
“Bad breakup, yeah?”
“Yeah it was shit. I kind of… well I kind of have a friend with benefits now, you should know that I guess?”
“Freaky hmm.” You shake your head at him, he just sips his drink, stirring the little cherry in it slowly. “I don’t care about that, I have a few regulars, until I date seriously again I mean.”
“You date seriously now?”
“I had a year-long relationship, it kind of… ended shitty. So I guess I’ve been avoiding commitment.” You tilt your head a bit, studying his pretty face.
“You seem more genuine than before.”
“Teenage Gojo was a little shit for sure.”
“Yep.”
“Hey!” Now he’s laughing, and fuck he’s charming, running his hand through his silky white hair and leaning closer. “I should apologize.”
“Yeah, that was shitty.” The wound has long healed, but remembering what happened hurt, especially the pathetic way you still tried to be with him, even after all of it. “I wasn’t popular like you.”
“No, you weren’t but you were sweet, and funny. And smart.”
“Ah… thanks Gojo.” His hand rests on your thigh over the thin black tights you’re wearing, and you don’t smack him off, but you tense just a bit.
“Can you forgive jock Gojo?” He pouts pretty pink lips.
“I can forgive jock Gojo.” He exhales, eyeing your drink now.
“Want another?”
“Um…” You wonder what’s holding you back, from the guy you’d been literally in love with years back, handsome and funny and much more mature Gojo.
Choso inside of you that’s what.
Choso’s big hands on your hips, the way he kissed you, the things you’d felt from them, since when did kissing make you soaked? But was it just him being so sweet and sexy, giving and talented? Was it because you were so comfortable with him, even showing your body?
Ino just never felt anything more than sweet or nice, but you have a severe lack of experience.
“I’ll take another, thank you.” You say softly, he orders two more, nibbling on the cake, frosting on his perfect pale skin. You thumb it off carefully, and he laps it off your finger then, smirking at your little gasp.
“You’re cute.”
“Cute huh?”
“Cute. Little reactions, so easy to read. You always were, but I guess my idiot ass wasn’t reading then.”
“You were just fucking all the cheerleading team.”
“Of every school.” He winks and your eyes roll back. “Just kidding, only the surrounding schools.”
“Oh gosh.” Satoru takes his cherry then, popping it between his lips, blue eyes filled with mischief as he peers at you. “What?”
“Nothing, just thinking how I didn’t get your cherry.”
“Oh jesus. You talk too much, you know. Thank you.” You say to the waitress as she hands you another glass. She also hands Satoru her number. “Is this everywhere you go?”
“Yeah. Kinda always has been like this. Lemme eat your cherry.”
“Everything you say sounds so pervy.” You hand him your cherry then, he takes it between his teeth, snowy lashes lowering, and you feel your body heat up then.
Satoru’s leaning down just a bit, taking your chin between his thumb and finger then, leaning low. “You’re so pretty tonight.”
“Oh… thank you Gojo.” You catch sight of it then, of Choso Kamo out the window on the bustling street in the evening, and the pretty blond in his arms.
You gulp now, pulling away with a breath. “No kiss huh? Still mad at Jock Gojo are you.”
“Um… no I… I have to go to the ladies room. I’ll be back?” He nods then, poking around on his phone, snapping pics for his Insta, which was of course stupidly popular and had been.
You walk past the window, surely you’re mistaken?
But who else has spiky black fucking pigtails.
He’s grinning too, as she’s leaning up, her arms around his neck, and you feel sick to your fucking stomach when he kisses her. Sure it’s just a kiss, right, and you don’t date him, and you shouldn’t care. That’s the point of it all, to not care, but why does it feel like someone’s punching you in your gut as he cups her face with his fucking hand!?
Fuck it brings tears to your eyes, they pull away and he looks all shy and fucking adorable, you quickly walk to the bathroom before he peers in the window and sees you, running into it and unable to stop your tears. The alcohol from the martinis is hitting just a bit, and you’re already overwhelmed from memories of Gojo, from what Choso’s doing to your mind.
You take several breaths, getting angry now, how can he say things like he did, look at you like he did, and do that!?
Yeah, you’re on a date too, aren’t you?
You’re not with Choso. He can do whatever the fuck he wants, and just a week or so ago, you were only friends. Only ever. You watched him date, healed his heartbreaks, held him when he cried. And so did he, eating ice cream and crying together, falling asleep watching movies. Friends, the best.
You were ruining it, by your emotions, he seemed perfectly able to just do whatever and be unaffected, no this was a you problem. Dickmatized, was it true, was that all this was? Was it just getting off with a dude for the first time, and the care you have confused you?
You’re touching up your makeup, peering at the mirror, struggling to pull yourself together. Why did it hurt so bad… why did him cupping her face make you so sick… you can’t let it happen, let it get to you. This is what you both agreed on, and he clearly took it a lot further than you had planned him to. Maybe you don’t mean anything to Choso at all, maybe he just does this because it’s convenient.
Because he wants to get over Yuki.
Your hands tremble then, you pull out your phone, and message him.
You: Hope your date is going great.
You want to say so much more, but you can’t, it’s not your place. Choso looks at the message, and your heart falters, but he doesn’t respond. You shake your head, closing your eyes again, pulling yourself together as you realize what a fool you have been, fixing up your lip gloss and then heading back to Satoru, who smiles up at you, having finished the cake clearly.
“Sorry sweets, I can get more.”
“I’m not hungry, it’s fine.” You stand there for a moment, Satoru yanks you down on his lap, making you gasp as you land on his leg.
“Maybe I’m still hungry.” You go to scooch back over onto the bench, but then you think about it.
Should you turn this down? Choso literally was kissing in the middle of the streets, and not even someone he knew, maybe he was so hurt he was becoming something he didn’t want to. A hoe era, spurred on all by you, a peek at your phone with no notifications from him.
“Not here, Satoru.”
“Satoru, huh?” You flush at his bright blue gaze, his big hand burning against your thigh again, making your hips shift in your seat.
“You seem different. Like you grew up. A bit.”
“Just a little. And why not here? Wanna go home with me? So slutty.” He whispers.
“Oh never mind. I didn’t say all that. Get me some more cake.”
He grins now, ordering another piece, and you genuinely open up to each other and laughing about school days, Satoru snaps a picture of you for his Insta and tags it hanging with old friends. You laugh a lot, and enjoy his goofy ass attitude, you can’t help it, he’s always been charming and now he’s much less of an ass than he was.
But you peer at your phone now and then, you and Satoru have spent an hour here, now he’s walking you to your car, you’re shivering a bit at the chill in the air, so he’s rubbing your arms, stepping closer. He bends low, those snowy lashes hovering over his cerulean gaze, intoxicating in the chilled night, so chilled you see puffs of his breath like little smoky clouds.
“I had fun, thank you for this.” You say softly, his lips turn up on one corner, fingers brushing across your jaw.
“I should thank you, fuck I was a shit to you. You deserved a lot better than being left on a dance floor.”
“It’s forgiven, you were young…”
“Still. I’d like to do this again?”
You nod shyly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He’s leaning down further, lips just a breath away, and you exhale then, visions of Choso swirling in your addled mind, but also Satoru smells good, he feels good against you, his big hands pressing into your waist. You feel yourself trembling in his hold, curiosity and hurt mixing with old feelings.
“I’d like that too.” You brush silky hair back, and he leans forward then, pressing his lips against yours, you feel them warm and plush, your arms lean up as he presses you closer, tongue darting in your mouth, swirling. You gasp and he pushes it further, bringing you against his hard, lithe body.
You feel guilty though, and how!? You aren’t with him, he hasn’t asked you out, he’s with someone… but something feels wrong. Like you’re cheating on him in some way when it’s impossible to, so you shove all of it back and let Satoru Gojo kiss you, and you kiss him back. He’s expert at it, devouring your mouth, a breathy cry from the back of your throat escapes.
“Fuck.” He murmurs, hands slipping down the sides of your breasts, making your nipples perk up, you feel your tummy clenching with desire for him, it’s not that insane need like Choso, but Choso isn’t really yours, and it feels good, his hard thigh between your thighs now, pressing up. “You’re so hot.”
“You could have done this on prom, you ass.” You tease, and he laughs softly, hands grabbing your ass and exhaling.
“This ass… you didn’t have this.”
“Oh that’s why!”
He grins. “Shut up, you’re bratty. Let me…” He is kissing down your throat now, and your head falls back, grinding on his thigh, earning his hiss against your ear, you’re clinging to his expensive dress shirt, getting wet against him. “Mmm I’ve been missing out, haven’t I?”
“Maybe… ngh!” Satoru bites your neck, sucking now, your eyes roll back, forgetting you’re in a fucking parking lot of a fancy bar, forgetting the hurt of your feelings from not just your ex Ino’s rejection, and seemingly Choso’s.
Your hands run down his hard body, feeling his well toned muscles under your touch flex, sliding under his shirt to feel his hot skin. “Come over.”
“Satoru I told you I…”
“I don’t care if you’re fucking someone.” You blink in surprise, he’s cupping your face, watching your face as he presses further. “Lemme get you off.”
“Not… not yet. I feel like I’m a little tipsy and the break up…”
“You’re missing out, you know how long these fingers are?” He wiggles them, making you snort in laughter.
“I’m sure it’s great but I’m not so easy. We’ll see if you’re serious hmm?”
“Then you’re going out with me again.”
“Maybe, if you’re lucky.” Satoru’s brows are raised, his hand slipping down your tummy, slipping up your sweater.
“You are.” He kisses you once more, fuck it feels good, you find yourself losing it in Satoru’s hold, crying out softly when he finds your pussy over your tights, he presses up and you stop him, despite your pussy throbbing. You can’t do it… “Was just gonna rub it, not gonna fuck you in the parking lot. Well…”
“I’m saying good night, Gojo.” You shake your head and pull his hand off, he surprises you by kissing it before kissing your lips once more. You wonder at his motivation, is he really that different? But you kiss his hand too, smiling now as he steps back and takes a breath.
“Good night, pretty. Text me when you’re free again?” You nod, smiling as he throws that peace sign at you, before slumping against your car for a moment, feeling so off, so… odd.
You check your phone, and see Choso’s snap with his meal, after you had texted him, you hate how much something small like that hurts already. You slide into your car and head home, for some reason tears forming in your eyes. Are you really going to be pining away for someone you can’t really have, or don’t have again? Is this just what you constantly do?
You’re sobbing by the time you get home, damn near hiccuping at how upset you are, yanking off your heels and belt as you walk in. You keep checking your phone like an idiot, Choso had never ignored a text, even when he was with Yuki, was he just done with your emotional responses to sex? Should you try to make sure you’re much less involved!?
“I suck at this. I suck at everything.” Your shoulders are shaking as you cry into your hands, which shake violently, until you flop down on the bed.
You can’t do this with Choso, it’s already fucking you up.
You call him then, and no answer, making you scoff, throwing it across the room, continuing to cry. This wasn’t dick like Utahime said, you felt something so intimate while fucking Choso it’s insane, like he just got you, like he could see in your entire fucking soul. What was it?
You take a shower, and eventually check your phone again, Satoru has messaged you, odd that Satoru somehow could write you back, but Choso couldn’t whatsoever. You crack open a beer and down it quickly, aching to get your mind off your best friend, why can’t you just be casual?
Jock Gojo: Need a pic of you. For reasons.
You snort at that, rolling your eyes.
You: You wish.
Jock Gojo: not naked if you don’t want… I mean… I want but…
You say fuck it and snap a pic which he hearts, just you in your pajamas with a little filter because you’ve been crying.
Jock Gojo: Fuck you’re sexy.
You feel yourself heat up at his words, sending another with the strap slid off your shoulder, then Satoru sends his abs which, damn they were sexy, cut and defined. You’re biting your lip, shifting a bit, turning on your tummy now as you stare at the screen and sigh.
You: You’re hot but you know it.
Jock Gojo: It’s still nice to hear ;) Bet you’re wet again.
You: Whatever! Good night, Gojo.
Jock Gojo: Masturbate to me <3
You roll your eyes and laugh, he sure the fuck is hilarious, this was your dream in high school, and he’s not even being a dick, he genuinely seems better. You should be excited. Not crying. You start to nod off when the phone rings, you almost don’t wanna answer it, but you do, taking a breath as you hear his voice.
“I’m so sorry! I thought I responded to your text, then the phone was in my car when you called. Is everything okay!?”
“It went great. Shouldn’t have called.”
Choso pauses then, silence on the phone. “What’s wrong.”
“Nothing!” You sit up in the bed, hugging a pillow to you, the emotion back in your eyes now. “It was rude of me.”
“What, no? It’s rude of me that I didn’t remember to hit send. Please, you can always write to me.”
“Yeah… Well good night Cho, I’m tired.”
“Something’s wrong, I’m coming over.”
You scoff then. “Coming to fuck me after your date horned you up?”
“What!? What? How can you say that!” You hear the pain in his voice, and you hate yourself. “We’re talking about this face to face.”
“I can’t face you right now. I can’t.”
“Did he hurt you? Was he mean? Was-”
“He was great and I had fun. Okay? Like you.”
“Like me? How…”
“I saw you kissing her right in front of the bar.” Choso’s quiet then, and you sniffle, wiping your eyes. “I was just something for you getting over Yuki, this whole thing was stupid.”
“You were not just that. Not at all. I kissed her, yeah but that’s it… I’m on the way.”
“I won’t let you in.”
“You’re my best friend, you damn sure will.” He hangs up then, and you glare at the phone, shaking your head at him, before you can think he’s knocking on your door, you answer it with a scowl.
Choso scowls right back, leather jacket on him, his hair in those sexy spiky fucking pigtails, ones you wanna yank him by, to kiss him, to cum all over his face again. It’s all you can think about, him on you, him in you, like some stupid fucking drug that’s ruined you. He’s heaving breaths as you are.
“Let me in?”
“Fine. For a minute.” You shut the door behind him then, and he bends down, pressing your back against your door, barring you with his arms. You feel your pulse quicken as he studies you, far, far too close. “What?”
“Why are you crying?” He cups your face, it’s too sweet, it’s too much. You just shake your head, looking down as he strokes your cheek with his thumb. “Are you upset I kissed her?”
“No! Why would I be? You’re not mine.” You choke on the fucking words, Choso exhales, leaning closer, head resting on yours.
“Speak your mind. If I hurt you I’m sorry, I promise it was just a kiss, I told you if I did more I’d let you know.”
“Well I kissed Gojo so what do I care?” He pulls back now, glaring at you, violet eyes glinting in your dark living room. “What? Only you can?”
“You kissed Gojo?” You just nod, and his dark brows are low over his eyes, brushing a thumb over your lower lip gently.
“I only kissed him.”
“I didn’t question you, I never would. I know you’d tell me. So you should know that I’d tell you.”
You nod then, feeling so ashamed of your emotions. “I promised no feelings and I suck at it. I got jealous though I shouldn’t.”
“Jealous of what? Look at you.”
“Don’t say that!” You shove at his hard chest, eyes locking with his now. “We’re still friends with benefits then? Nothing serious yet with her?”
You’re so stupid.
But you want him.
Is this the only way you can have him?
“Nothing serious, that was the only kiss there was. I hope you brushed your teeth. I don't wanna kiss Gojo.”
You snort then. “You assume I wanna kiss you. Did you brush your teeth?”
“No.” He laughs then, and you do.
“Then no kisses.”
“I’ll kiss something else.” Choso starts kissing down your throat now, and you exhale at the pleasure, losing yourself in his kisses, until he pauses, touching your neck. “A hickey?”
“I… oh. Did he bite me that hard?” You run fingers down your neck curiously, Choso’s furious now. “What? What do you care?”
Choso’s eyes narrow. “Why do you care enough to call me?”
“Oh just go then.” You shove him once more, but his eyes are all lit up now, hand gripping under your chin, wrapping your throat, thrilling you to no end.
“I’m sorry I didn’t answer, okay?” He’s apologizing even as his hand is wrapping your throat, tone sweet, his other hand pressing into your hip.
“I forgive you. Now… go if you… Cho!” Choso’s down on his knees right in front of you, slipping your shorts down, looking up at you under his dark lashes.
“Did he kiss you here?” He asks, and you shake your head, hands pulling on the pigtails intriguing you all day.
“Nowhere close. Just my n-neck - mmm!” Choso’s kissing up your inner thigh, as your cunt is pulsing wetness, fuck he ruins you just breathing against it, throwing a thigh over his shoulder now. “D-did you kiss her… there?”
“No, I’ve wanted to taste my really mean best friend all day.” You go to retort, but now his tongue is slipping up your slit, and you’re dripping, pussy aching for him. Choso moans against your pussy, flicking that tongue ring on your clit, you cry out, head smacking on your door now. “Done being mean to me?”
“If I’m done will you stop?” He laughs softly, grabbing your thighs with those strong hands, those calloused fingers.
“I think I have another way to get you back for your attitude, angel.” You blink curiously, but he’s fucking you with his two fingers, curling them inside and pressing, tongue swirling your clit and making you lose it.
“Cho! F-fuck… please…” You’re grinding on his face now, toes curling at the insane pleasure he brings, as he flicks his tongue with his fingers, over and over, making you tremble, so close so quick.
“So yummy. Feel her, she’s ready.” He’s so fucking sexy, scissoring those fingers up into you, sucking your clit in his mouth and humming.
“Cho! Cho oh my- ah- wait…” Suddenly he’s completely gone, right when you’re about to cum on his face, licking his lower lip and sliding your shorts up. You sputter, when he stands, kissing your forehead gently. “What the… Choso…”
“You should trust me, and be honest with me. If you saw me, you should have told me. If it hurts, you tell me. You’re one of the most important people in this world to me, okay?” Your addled brain barely computes, you just stare up at him, dumb. “I’m mad at him too, I’m mad he bit your neck.”
You blink in confusion. “You… why…”
“It’s too pretty to be marked up, especially by him.”
“Choso…” He brushes your pussy with his fingers, making you jolt, craving the friction, he’s so close to your lips you can taste him.
“Want me inside you?” You nod weakly, as he strokes back your hair. “Then you should be nicer.”
“Are you edging me, Choso Kamo!?”
“Hmm.” He smirks then, kissing your lips, you taste yourself on him, pulling him down to you, but he breaks away, gently holding your face. “Good night.”
“Are you… really now… you’re the one…”
“I’ll see you tomorrow when you’re nicer. Mean little angel.” He pecks another kiss on your forehead, leaving then.
Leaving you with an aching pussy and a wrecked mind.
What… the fuck. Do you really know Cho bear that well? Because…
“Fuck.”
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taglist: @erencvlt @antisocialinlw @aquamarine001 @makingtimemine @maskedpacific @mima0127 @yxnnu @lana18918 @bigbird789  @angellliqua @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @aldebrana @staygoldsquatchling02 @bts-psycho @lillycore @mysticalnightbeliever @wystriz @tokyolhtl @imabyssa @delicate-ray-of-sunshine @ivyvenus333 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21  @sparklydeerface @10honeybee01 @marie-is-in-the-dark @lavender-hvze @angelcakkess @bellasworlds-stuff @pauliiis-stuff (tagging the rest in the comments)
I KNOW it's frustrating. They suck right now lol!! Look forward to your comments <3
Chapter Four
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jo-speaks · 1 month ago
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APOLOGY ACCEPTED
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overview: after quinn receives the silent treatment, he's determined to make it up to you.
warnings: smut below! MDNI!! fingering, unprotected sex, quinn being an asshole but he makes up for it, etc.
note: got inspired to write bc the canucks beat the blackhawks!! (i was worried after they gave up that first goal)
“Will you quit acting like a child and just talk to me?”
You scoffed at his comment, slipping off your shoes and hanging your keys up by the door, Quinn following behind you.
In his eyes, you had no real reason to be upset. You had attended the Canucks and Islanders game, the game ending in a loss. You expected Quinn to be in a mood, a quiet one at that, so you didn’t make much of an effort to talk to him.
However, you hadn’t expected him to dodge your greeting entirely. No matter how upset he was, he’d always greet you with a hug and a kiss. This night, he had let you make a fool out of yourself, letting you wrap your arms around him as he failed to reciprocate it, being followed by walking away as you just nearly connected your lips to his.
This resulted in your current situation. You giving him the silent treatment. He had attempted to spark a conversation in the car once he had calmed down but fell victim to your silence.
He groaned in annoyance as you stepped into your shared bedroom, slipping out a few moments later in your own oversized shirt, something you only did when you were truly upset at him. You found solace on the couch, grabbing the remote and throwing some random video on in the background. Quinn watched as you didn’t even glance at him, his presence completely nonexistent in your state of anger. 
He sighed walking into the room you once were in to change into something more comfortable than the suit he had entered the arena in. It was only when he slipped into his sweatpants was it that he realized that he was the one in the wrong. You had taken time out of your day to come out and support him, offering comfort even after a tough loss. 
Quinn debated with himself in his own mind, brainstorming ways to make it up to you. He could get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness, smothering you with kisses until you forgave him or even spoke to him by telling him to stop. He could spoil you with gifts for the next year. He was feeling so unworthy of you that he briefly considered retiring early just to spend the whole time making it up to you. 
Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in his head. He stripped off the shirt that he had put on only a few moments prior and stepped back into the living room. 
His eyes were met with a slightly different scene than when he had left. Instead of mindlessly watching the TV, you were on your phone. He could catch a small glimpse of your screen, seeing you like a post from the Canucks Instagram page of him hugging Lekkerimäki after scoring his first NHL goal, zooming in to get a good look at his proud smile.
Quinn could feel his stomach twist at your actions, regretting every single second he had gone without apologizing to you.
You soon went back to scrolling your feed, trying to ignore Quinn’s presence as he squatted in front of you, turning the TV volume down before shifting his attention to you.
He sighed, “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so, so sorry.”
It was genuine, you knew that. But he was going to have to say a lot more than sorry after what he pulled. Quinn knew this too, immediately crowding your space, taking your phone out of your hands, and placing it on the coffee table. You rolled your eyes, shifting your gaze at the TV behind him even though it was barely coherent. 
Quinn didn’t stop his efforts when you ignored him, if anything it implored him to try harder. He began kissing your cheek, eventually trailing down your face and landing on your neck, sucking at the soft skin, leaving purple blotches wherever his lips landed.
You struggled to keep quiet as he reached a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, a spot he knew would make you want to drop it and give in. Somehow, you managed to keep your composure, distracting yourself with the TV.
His lips trailed further down, kissing over your shirt as he kept going lower. It was only that his kisses stopped when he reached the bottom of the clothing. He moved it slightly so he could get access to your shorts. He moved from his squatting position to hover on top of your figure on the couch. 
Now that he was in a more comfortable spot, his lips found your face again as his hand dipped into your shorts and past your panties. You bit your tongue as the pads of his fingers made contact with your clit, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” He mumbled into your jaw, “So fucking sorry.
Once again he trailed lower, his lips landing on your collarbone this time. His fingers increased their speed and keeping quiet was getting close to impossible. Luckily for him, your control slipped slightly as he pushed two fingers into you, a soft moan escaping your lips. 
He was knuckle-deep into you as he curled his fingers, hitting that one spot in you that caused a gasp to slip out. You were determined to keep quiet, but with every thrust of his fingers and tightening of the knot in your stomach, you wanted nothing more than to cry out his name and beg him to fuck you.
Quinn was relentless, not only with his fingers but with his words. He mumbled apology after apology into your skin as you panted, trying your best not to let anything slip. His mouth ended up next to your ear, his words seeming much more intimate due to the proximity. 
“Please forgive me, sweet girl. I’ll never do it again.” He whined, sounding pathetic as he begged for your forgiveness.
One last curl of his fingers and your body stopped fighting him. You came undone around his digits, crying out his name as you reached a hand up to tug on his hair. He sighed in relief, eyes shutting as he felt the satisfaction of not only making you cum but also hearing you acknowledge him since entering the apartment.
As you came down from your high, he continued to place soft kisses all over your neck and face. The satisfaction continued as you turned your head, your lips finding his like you had yearned for back at the arena. 
He retracted his fingers and brought them up to his mouth, wiping them clean with his tongue. You smiled hazily at the sight, admiring the way he savoured your taste as if it was his favourite thing in the world.
“Am I forgiven?” He whispered, a hint of worry laced in his words.
You giggled quietly, “I think you can make it up to me a little more, don’t you think?”
Quinn smiled at your words, stepping off the couch to discard his pants completely. You lifted your hips, sliding out of your shorts. He only got as far as to sit down on the couch before you swung a leg around his lap, straddling him, his eyes admiring you on top of him. 
Now it was your turn to litter him in marks, his lack of a shirt making his pec your first target. You sucked gently, grinding yourself over his bare cock, eliciting a groan from your boyfriend.
“Let me take care of you, hm? Promise I’ll make you feel good.” Quinn asked, hoping to at least be able to rest inside of you as you sucked at his skin.
You smiled, pulling back to place a brief kiss on his lips, “I know you will. But I wanna take my time with you. Just give me a second, okay?”
He knew he wasn’t in a position to complain, so he simply nodded, settling for the stimulation he was getting from your hips. Thankfully, Quinn was so easily marked up that you were satisfied not long after. You were always careful not to leave any hickeys that were visible under his gear, but you got carried away and now the media would get a short glimpse into his personal life. Not that either of you cared about it at the moment, however.
When you pulled away, you lifted your hips and shot him a look. He caught the hint immediately, lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you swiftly.
Quinn gave you no chance to adjust before he fucked you harshly. All the teasing you had made him endure got him so worked up, that he was surprised he didn’t finish as soon as he entered you.
“Shit, you feel so good.” He groaned, his hands shifting from your hips to grope at your ass.
You let out a whimper as you felt your orgasm build up yet again, the look on your boyfriend’s face making your brain short circuit. His eyebrows were knitted together, eyes glossy and cheeks red as a stream of moans left his throat.
“Quinn! I’m so close.” You whined, your face leaning into his shoulder in an attempt to hold yourself together long enough for him to finish with you. That vision was tossed out of your mind as Quinn brought his hand to your clit, his thumb rubbing around it.
A stream of his name along with some obscenities escaped your lips as you came around his cock, the pulses coming from your pussy being enough to tip Quinn over as well.
His movement subsided, the only sounds in the room being gasping breaths coming from the two of you.
Quinn settled down first, pressing languid kisses to the side of your face. “I love you. I’m so sorry.”
You smiled into his skin, turning your head to look at him, “Apology accepted. Just don’t ever do it again.”
“I never will.” He leaned over to kiss your lips longingly before speaking again, “How about we get cleaned up and order in some dinner? We can even throw on one of those cheesy romance movies you like.”
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dontbesoweirdkira · 2 months ago
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A/N: Had this in my drafts and i just needed to know i'm not alone.... Just thinking about possessive Dick Grayson being a sloppy and disgusting kisser. PLEASE HEAR ME ON THIS. errr this is a drabble that is kind of unfinished but you get the vibesss. There really no plot...just wanted an excuse to draft up this though so.....
Warnings: suggestive not full blown nsfw....
request: always open
masterlist
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He'd have you pinned under his body the moment you entered the apartment. Your wrists were pinned together by just one of his hands and your legs were locked in between his muscular thighs. It hadn't taken much to completely subdue you like this, though you fought as hard as you could, you were helpless up against someone as skillful as he. He's ever so cocky about it at first too as his hot tongue trailed down the side of your neck until your body slightly twitched. ugh! He found a new sweet spot and it peaked his interests. You probably thought your loving partner wouldn't notice, huh? Oh, he notices everything, no matter how minor it may have been ...just like when he noticed how that person was eyeing you earlier.
"Be good and stay still for me. You don't wanna make me unhappy, right?"
You could feel his lips purse up into that cocky smile of his as he let out a chuckle. It was sly, maybe even a little twisted in the way he let it out. His mind was revisiting how good it felt to put them back in their place. Oh just how terrified they looked realizing how much they fucked up by having the audacity to even think they had a chance with you. And for Dick be on top of you like this right now while they were probably limping home? Man, that creep would flip his shit if he could see this. It gave Dick too much of an ego to be the only one in the world who'd ever have the pleasure to do whatever they wanted with you.
While he soaked in moments like this, you hated it. His arrogance left a sour taste in your mouth. Dick didn't deserve to be rewarded for this poor behavior and think this was okay. You tried once more to fight and tell him how you seriously needed to talk about boundaries but it was useless.
That didn't surprise you tho. Dick had selective listening and was too self righteous to ever admit to his wrong doings. He was like a puppy who desperately wanted to play but couldn't grasp the concept that he just destroyed the living room and you're pissed off at him. . You could punish, scream and threaten him but Dick will never fail to get what he wanted in the end.
His tongue met with the crook of your neck and slowly made circles in place.
"i'll let you curse at me all night but please just be still and let me just-"
He let out a breathy plead before he was sucked back into his selfish desires. It was pathetic how quickly he could melt into you. He hadn't even done anything yet but the taste of you was enough to send his body into overdrive. Suddenly he was the one struggling to stay still. It was far too hot in this damn apartment and his clothes were too restrictive. It was evident he didn't exactly know what to do with himself even though he's done this a million times. He couldn't stop himself from becoming overly excited each and every time he had you like this. So eager to explore your body like it was the first time all over again. His one free hand slithering under your dress and grabbing onto anything that was soft and plump.
You could feel your neck being pulled at as his lips sucked on your sweat spot. You tried to remain upset and stiff as he left his love bite but it was hard when you had someone as disgusting as Dick all over you like this.
Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head when his lips crashed into yours, shoving his perverted tongue as far as he could inside your mouth without any warning. The sounds of Dick's lewd moaning and smacking of each others lips filled the apartment as he sloppily made out with you.
He was so shameless in the way he handled you. He constantly craved more. More attention...more affirmations....more you.
Dick doesn't stop until he's begging you with his big, blue eyes, hoping you'd forget all about what he did to upset you. come onnn and be a good owner....he really...reallly wants to play right now.
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furuu · 2 months ago
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Could you write what sukuna would do after him and reader get into an argument and hurts readers feeling?
(I love your writing! Please never stop 🙂‍↕️)
𐔌 . ⋮ After the argument, the tension in the room was suffocating. Sukuna’s voice had been harsh, his words cutting like blades. He was always brash and abrasive, but this time, something he said had struck you harder than usual. You tried to hold it together, but the sting of his words lingered, and you couldn’t stop the hurt from welling up in your chest.
You turned away from him, your heart heavy, and without a word, you walked off, leaving Sukuna standing there, fists clenched and jaw tight.
For a moment, he did nothing. Sukuna wasn’t used to caring about how his words affected people—he was the King of Curses, after all. People cowered before him, they didn’t dare confront him. But you… you were different. And the sight of your back as you walked away didn’t sit well with him.
He grumbled to himself, the echo of his harsh words replaying in his mind.
“Tch.” He hated this feeling—this gnawing discomfort in his chest that came when he realized he had hurt you more than he intended. Sukuna wasn’t good with apologies; it wasn’t in his nature to be soft or to take back what he said. But seeing the pain in your eyes, the way you withdrew from him, left him unsettled in a way he couldn’t ignore.
Hours passed, and you stayed away, hiding in another room. The house was too quiet, and it grated on his nerves. Usually, your presence filled the silence, but now that absence was like a constant reminder of what he had done.
Finally, Sukuna had enough. With a deep sigh, he stood and made his way toward where you were. He wasn’t good with this kind of thing, but he also wasn’t about to let the rift between you widen.
He found you sitting on the edge of the bed, your knees pulled up, trying to collect yourself. The moment he entered, you tensed, not looking at him.
Sukuna stopped in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he regarded you. He didn’t say anything right away, his pride still too strong to let him offer any real apology. Instead, he stood there for a moment, his arms crossed over his chest, as if trying to figure out how to handle this situation without fully acknowledging his fault.
Then, with a quiet growl, he spoke, his voice low but not as harsh as before. “You’re still sulking, huh?” His tone lacked its usual venom, and while the words weren’t exactly an apology, there was a shift in the way he said them.
You didn’t respond, your eyes still fixed on the floor.
Sukuna huffed in frustration, moving closer. His four arms flexed slightly, one of his lower hands twitching as if resisting the urge to reach out to you. He stood next to you, his shadow falling over your form.
“Look,” he muttered, his voice gruff, “I’m not good at this… but you know I didn’t mean it.”
You glanced up at him, your eyes betraying the hurt you still felt. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this—vulnerable, distant. It made something inside him twist uncomfortably.
Sukuna let out a low breath, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he reached out, his larger hand resting on your shoulder. It was a rare, uncharacteristic gesture—gentle, almost tentative.
“I don’t like this,” he admitted, his gaze flickering to the side, avoiding your eyes. “You being upset with me.”
You blinked, surprised by the admission. It wasn’t exactly an apology, but coming from Sukuna, it was close enough. His pride wouldn’t let him say he was wrong outright, but his actions spoke louder than his words. The way his hand lingered on your shoulder, the subtle tension in his posture—it all told you he was trying, in his own way.
Slowly, you felt the tension in your body ease a little, and you sighed, leaning into his touch just slightly. “You really hurt me, Sukuna,” you murmured softly, your voice still fragile.
He was silent for a beat, his thumb unconsciously rubbing your shoulder in a rare moment of tenderness.
“I know,” he said quietly, his gaze still fixed on the floor. “I’ll watch it next time.”
That was as close to an apology as you were going to get from him, and strangely, it was enough. You could feel the sincerity behind his gruff exterior, the way he was trying to make amends in the only way he knew how.
After another moment of quiet, Sukuna finally lowered himself beside you on the bed. One of his hands rested on your back while another gently lifted your chin to meet his eyes. His gaze was intense, but there was something softer there—something only reserved for you.
“Come here,” he grumbled, pulling you into his chest with one of his lower arms, cradling you against him. “You know I’m not good at this,” he muttered, his voice low. “But you’re not leaving.”
You sighed, melting into his embrace despite everything. His warmth surrounded you, and though his apology wasn’t traditional, his actions told you all you needed to know. He held you close, his arms wrapped protectively around you, as if silently vowing not to let this happen again.
Sukuna wasn’t gentle by nature, but for you—for the one person who managed to get under his skin—he’d try. Even if it meant swallowing his pride, just a little .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱
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exhaslo · 2 months ago
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Kinktober Day 23
Miguel x F!Reader (Bondage)
Summary: Miguel is tired of you running around the Spider Society and needs you to sit down and listen for five minutes.
Warning: MINOR DNI, SMUT, bondage, webs being used in ways they shouldn't be used, overstimulation
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There a good number of things that drove Miguel up a wall. Many of them were due to either his job at Alchemax, or his position at the Spider Society.
Apart from those two, another thing that made Miguel crazy was you.
You were pretty much the hyper active child of the Spider Society. Always swinging around, making a fuss where ever you go. Miguel was getting tired of having to find you and sit you down for even five minutes.
"(Y/N), come to my office," Miguel said with a heavy sigh as he called you via watch.
"Can't right now, Miggy! I'm having a race!"
"Where?!"
"Uhhhhh....can't....bzzz....you..."
Miguel felt his eye twitch as you hung up on him. As he pinched the bridge of his nose, Lyla ever so happily showed him the footage of you racing with some other Spider people. The group of you bumping into pillars left and right.
Honestly, Miguel loved the hyper go-energy you had. He just wished you stood still enough for him to admire you. Watching your body twist and turn made Miguel's mind wander. What did he have to do to keep you still?
Miguel slumped in his seat wondering if you would still try to move if he ever fucked you.
"Hehe, okay, I won! What did you need, Miggy? I have like...three people to meet soon!" You chirped as you swung into his office.
"You're going to have to cancel," Miguel groaned softly, wanting to hide his erection.
"Awe! No fair, you know~ I'll just come bac-"
You gasped as Miguel fired his webbing towards you. With ease, you legs were bound and you had fallen onto the floor. Right when you were going to break free, Miguel swung over and webbed your hands together. Like a fish, you flopped over to face him.
"Fine! Fine, I'll listen." You pouted. Miguel hovered over you, his breathe against your neck,
"Why do you have to make things so difficult?" He asked, causing your heart to race a bit, "Is this how I have to get you to stay still?"
"I guess,"
Miguel was so close to you. Having both your hands and legs tied was making both your mind and heart race. As you looked into his crimson eyes, you couldn't help but lean towards Miguel. You had always found Miguel handsome.
As if he read your mind, Miguel captured your lips in a kiss. His hands rested against your knees, slowly breaking the binding. As you melted into the kiss, you didn't realize that Miguel had positioned himself between your legs, webbing your already bonded hands to the unmovable object.
"Mhm~ Mig-" You gasped between kisses, squirming slightly as you felt his body against yours.
"Shh, you were doing so well," Miguel groaned.
You wanted to whine. You wanted to move, but Miguel was making it difficult. Perhaps if you kept moving, you would get out of his webbing?
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"Ah~ Hn~"
"What's wrong, (Y/N)? Don't wanna move now?"
You had become a moaning mess as Miguel pounded your pussy with his dick. Every time you tried to move, Miguel would change positions, keeping you bounded.
"Mhm~" You flinched as you felt your orgasm approaching.
"No moving remember?" Miguel chuckled.
Webbing your legs up, Miguel leaned into you even deeper than before. His breathing getting heavier as you came upon change. You weren't sure how much more your body could take. Drool was rolling down your cheek as your body kept asking for more.
Your pussy was twitching with every slap of his dick. Your body felt like it was on fire as you started to lose your sense of reason. You wanted to say that it hurt, but you couldn't. Miguel was making a mess of you and felt so damn good.
"Shit, I'm going to cum, (Y/N)." Miguel groaned lowly.
Hearing those words again made your brain spin. You whined and moaned in response as Miguel's pace picked up again. His thick cock pounding against your cervix, ready to unload inside you again.
"Stay still and drink up," Miguel hummed.
Your body arched forward, moaning as you felt him cum inside you. The two of you took a moment to rest before Miguel undid his webs. Your arms and legs flopped to the ground as you breathed heavily.
"You moved again, (Y/N). I have so much to teach you still," Miguel chuckled as he lifted you up against his chest.
"Lemme....rest first."
"But then you haven't learned."
You whined softly as Miguel webbed your hands behind your back as he sat you against his lap. Your pussy swallowed his dick with ease as you let your body rest against him.
"Another round should teach you, right?" Miguel questioned with a kiss.
Needless to say, another round was not enough to keep you still.
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Hope you enjoyed!!!
Kinktober 2023 Masterlist
Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
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cherienymphe · 11 months ago
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Teenage Dirtbag XI
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JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, mentions of blood, public sex, jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
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➥ series masterlist
summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.
Your rescue just comes with a price.
You gasped when Rafe tightly squeezed your wrist, pinning it down beside your head as his other hand trailed down your sweaty frame. It was only the evening, but after hitting a few balls at the country club, he came back in a mood that resulted in him reaching for you the moment he made it to his room. Any other day, and you would’ve gone played your role perfectly.
…but JJ was right downstairs.
All of Sarah’s friends were congregated in the living room, so you made yourself scarce no matter how much you actually wanted to stick around. It’d been hard to avoid JJ’s watchful eye every time you went downstairs, recalling the feel of him on top of you and his hands on you. It was something you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about for weeks—even while lying next to Rafe.
You were so conflicted…and not just because you were cheating on your boyfriend.
The whole situation with JJ felt…off. You hadn’t really wanted to go that far, and when JJ kept pushing, you were still unsure if you regretted giving in or not. Was he right when he said you were just scared because Rafe had mentally fucked you up so bad? Had you really just been afraid of the unknown? After all, up until that night, Rafe was the only guy you’d done practically anything with. Those things were very true…and yet you wondered if you should’ve forced yourself to go along with things you weren’t ready for like you had.
…because the truth was that you did enjoy lying underneath someone you felt safe with. When sleeping with Rafe and letting him touch you and returning the favor…you had never not been afraid. Your first time had been a drunk and bloody and violent mess. You didn’t know what it was like to be with someone you trusted and felt wholly comfortable with.
It was an entirely different experience.
Your conflicting feelings were too much, and it was something you wanted to talk to JJ about, but you could just never find the time. Rafe had been especially clingy as of late, and on the off chance he wasn’t, the rest of JJ’s friends happened to be around to where you couldn’t get him alone without arousing suspicion.
Like today.
Unable to get JJ alone, you were forced to basically do nothing but wait for Rafe.
Your boyfriend had been insatiable for almost an hour, twisting his hand into your hair and pulling your face closer the moment he walked into the room. Lying on his bed, you hadn’t had much choice but to slide your lips along the length of his cock, the only silver lining being when he returned the favor. You’d hoped that he would be quick…
“You’re so quiet,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, hips snapping against yours. “What’s wrong?”
When your boyfriend pulled back to look at you, you only shook your head.
“Nothing…”
There was a slight furrow between his brows, and you didn’t like the look that passed over his features.
“You know I like hearing you,” he said, pulling his lip between his teeth. “…and it’s not like we’re at Topper or Kelce’s.”
You swallowed, and his hand tightened on your wrist.
“Is this about Sarah’s dumbass friends downstairs?”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“No…I…” you licked your lips. “Not really.”
Rafe had stopped moving, holding himself inside of you as he looked over your face.
“Not really…?” he repeated, eyebrow raised.
Glancing around the ceiling, you sighed.
“I’d just feel embarrassed…”
It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. You would feel embarrassed about Sarah’s friends hearing you, but you especially didn’t want to think about JJ hearing you. Obvious reasons aside, JJ was the only one to know about what your relationship with Rafe was actually like. You didn’t want to imagine what he’d think.
Rafe scoffed.
“Who gives a fuck about them? This is my house,” he said, tone cocky as he leaned in to kiss you. “Besides…”
He slowly pulled his hips back before thrusting back into you just as slow.
“Let them hear what I do to you.”
His tone was sinister, a mocking lilt to his voice as he started to snap his hips against yours again. When you bit your lip, his movements grew rough, and you sharply inhaled. His hair brushed your forehead as he leaned in, and you couldn’t avoid his eye.
“I’ll fuck you all night if I have to.”
The warning was clear, and when he pushed his cock into you again, you didn’t swallow down your moan this time. As embarrassing as it was, the shame eventually left you when Rafe started pounding into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. At some point, you found yourself on your knees, fingers clutching the sheets and the pillows as he thrust into you from behind.
His hands were tight on your hips, and a mewl climbed out of your throat with every push of his hips.
When he leaned over you—chest pressing against your back—his hand snaked its way around your throat. His grip was tight, making you gasp and making your eyes roll. You reached up to cover his hand with your own, flinching when his teeth grazed your ear.
“You like that?” he wondered, and at your nod, he leaned down to nip at the skin of your neck. “Who’s making you feel this good?”
“You,” you gasped.
He hummed, a question in his tone, and he only seemed satisfied when you moaned his name. Pushing you down, he had you pinned, hips slapping against you as he repeated the question. Understanding what he wanted, you moaned his name again. And again. And again. Rafe only seemed satisfied when you were practically screaming his name, hand tight on your throat while the other dug into your hip and thigh.
When you came, you were shouting his name, and you heard him groan yours into your ear when he came too. You shuddered at the feel of him filling you up, shuddering at the stickiness between your thighs and the cum dripping around his cock and onto your folds. Laying you completely down, Rafe kissed down your back as he pulled out of you, telling you he was going to take a shower.
You wanted one too more than anything, but Rafe had a habit of commencing round two whenever you joined him under the water.
Instead, you took the time to roll onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as you pulled the sheet over your chest. As great as the sex was with Rafe—when it was consensual—you couldn’t help but to compare it to your time alone with JJ. Thinking back, you’d always thought your former friends were lying when they talked about other things being better than sex depending on the guy.
…but JJ’s fingers and his lips had sparked more excitement than anything Rafe did.
You knew why, and it made you sigh. Resigning yourself to everything with Rafe had been so much easier when you didn’t know what you were missing. You did now, though, and you weren’t sure how you were going to continue to pretend with no problem. Dealing with Rafe’s abuse didn’t seem like the worst thing in the world when you didn’t know how much better ‘better’ could be.
The fact that the ‘better’ was right downstairs had your heart skipping a beat, and as much as you wanted to go downstairs again just to see his face, you weren’t quite ready to face him after he’d so clearly heard Rafe fucking you.
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“I’m sorry, okay?”
You wiped your face, crossing your arms over your chest as JJ pleadingly gazed at you. The pool house was quiet save for your occasional sniffle, and you were still when the blond reached for you—not quite rejecting him, but not quite accepting his advances either. There was still some dried blood under his nose, and the skin under his eye was already beginning to bruise.
All of it was evidence of his actions not even an hour ago.
Against your better judgement, you went along with Rafe to a small party on the beach. You’d texted JJ to see in advance if he was going to be there, seeing as the answer to that would determine your own actions, but you’d gotten no response. Hence, your own slight shock at seeing none other than a familiar blond talking to Kie.
You’d looked away the moment his eyes met yours.
Rafe—and you by extension—had kept his distance, but you hadn’t exactly anticipated JJ to be the one to start trouble tonight. Rafe had been talking to some friends that weren’t Kelce or Topper, his hand tight on your waist as he held you close. Per usual, you’d been quiet, just sipping on a beer you didn’t even like as your gaze roamed over the beach.
Your boyfriend had been shoved out of nowhere.
Before either of you had time to react, JJ was on him, throwing punches and taking you by surprise. No amount of yelling could get him to get off, and even when Rafe eventually got his bearings and started fighting back, blood was already smeared under his nose and on his lips. While Rafe’s friends tried to join in and make it unfair, John B. and Pope only tried to break it up.
You didn’t understand what happened, only able to look on in horror as your boyfriends fought.
When JJ slammed Rafe’s head into the sand, your heart jumped. There was a look on the younger blonde’s face like he could kill, and for a moment, you thought that he could. You hadn’t forgotten what he’d said to you in Rafe’s kitchen that day, and you didn’t want to acknowledge the way a brief bout of relief filled you at the thought of him actually killing Rafe. The feeling scared you, so much so that it made your stomach turn, and all relief was gone the moment you imagined JJ in jail.
You only wanted Pope and John B. to get him off of him.
When they did, they struggled to hold him back, and Rafe’s friends fared no better, your boyfriend determined to get his hands on JJ. You’d only been able to look between them, eyes lingering on JJ as he was pulled away. You hadn’t missed his brief glance towards you and the venom you saw there. You were only pulled from the trance by the feel of Sarah grabbing your arm.
“Are you okay? You didn’t get caught up in that, did you?”
You’d shaken your head, and she’d angrily tucked her hair behind her ear.
“Kie will drive you home,” she’d said. “I’m sure Rafe won’t take much convincing.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Your boyfriend was huffing and darting his eyes every which way when Sarah proposed she make sure you get straight home. Even if your boyfriend hadn’t said it, you knew what he was thinking. He still had a fight in his eyes, and you knew that whenever he made it to The Cut, if he didn’t find JJ, he would settle for either of his friends.
That was exactly what you told the blond the moment you walked through the pool house, positive as to where he’d found refuge.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I don’t know why…”
JJ trailed off, running his hands through his already messy hair.
“No…”
He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.
“I know exactly why I did that.”
He moved closer to you, jaw clenched as he gazed at you.
“I hate that everyone thinks he’s such a great boyfriend,” he sneered. “I hate that he can just walk into a party with you on his arm like he doesn’t treat you like absolute shit!”
Your face fell, and your gaze found the floor.
“God, seeing you standing there…? Like his little accessory or something? Just hanging on his arm without even being acknowledged like you aren’t even a person?” he wondered. “It made me angrier than expected.”
You sighed at that, some of your own irritation dissipating.
“JJ,” you exhaled, sadly looking at him. “You can’t let that bother you.”
“…but it does!”
His voice bounced off of the walls.
“It’s not fucking fair,” his voice was quieter, now, hand coming up to rest on your arm. “It’s not fair that he gets to treat you like that…and have you too.”
You could see it then—there in his gaze—that this wasn’t just sparked by tonight.
Closing your eyes, you sighed again.
“I can’t exactly…refuse to have sex with him JJ,” you softly whispered, slowly meeting his gaze.
You could see that it bothered him, disgust and anger flitting over his features.
“The rest of them were making jokes and pretending to gag,” he gradually replied. “…but all I could think about was him giving you a black eye…and then having sex with you weeks later.”
You wrapped your arms around yourself.
“So you fought him?”
“What else can I do?” he seriously wondered, giving you a look. “…until I can figure out how to get you away from him…I have to settle for kicking his ass.”
You couldn’t even focus on everything JJ said, lips parting as you blinked at him.
“Get me away from him? JJ,” you lightly scoffed. “I…”
Of course, you wanted that, but Rafe was…Rafe. Rafe Cameron, son of Ward Cameron and equally as rich as you. You didn’t want to imagine the things he could get away with considering what he’d already gotten away with. You recalled Ward’s convincing tone that day you’d called the cops on your boyfriend, telling you everything that you already knew. You especially remembered Rafe’s hands on your throat one night, threatening to kill you if you ever left him.
You’d long accepted your fate of walking on eggshells around Rafe forever.
“Are you telling me you don’t want to get away from him?” the blond wondered, fingers grazing the skin of your cheek.
“I do,” you told him, shaking your head. “You know that I do, but… I have no way of…”
Your words trailed off as JJ shushed you, his other hand coming up to rest on the other side of your face. His nose brushed against yours as he leaned in, foreheads touching too. His thumbs traced circles into your cheeks as he closed his eyes.
“Don’t you worry about that,” he whispered, lips brushing yours as he spoke. “I’m going to get you out.”
He pressed his lips to yours, and you thought about Rafe on The Cut looking for JJ, none the wiser to the fact that he was with you.
“I promise you.”
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Ward and Rose’s party was in full swing, and yet you found yourself on your fifth drink of the night on the back porch. Rafe was especially irritating, going on and on about JJ, and unable to take it anymore, you’d slipped away to find comfort in your solitude. Since Topper and Kelce weren’t privy to what went down the other night, Rafe had to let them in on all the sordid details, and you couldn’t stand it.
That same night JJ had kissed you for what felt like hours, eventually letting you go once you reminded him that Rafe wouldn’t be out looking for him forever. It was reluctant, but he eventually kissed you one last time. It was still on your mind when Rafe finally came back, still angry at JJ and choosing to take it out on you, kisses rough as he pulled at your clothes.
He’d only seemed satisfied when you came around him for a second time, exhausted and milking him dry.
This feud or whatever between Kooks and Pogues had always been ongoing, but your relationship with JJ only added another complicated layer to it all. While Rafe thought the other blond was just being an asshole, you knew better. You knew that JJ was angry with Rafe’s treatment of you and saw himself as defending your honor or something.
You would’ve found it flattering if it didn’t worry you so much.
You were pulled from your thoughts by a familiar hand on your elbow, and you hadn’t even heard Rafe come outside. When you looked at his face, you could see the boredom all over it, and so you weren’t shocked when he said:
“We’re heading to Top’s.”
It wasn’t a suggestion, and you didn’t have any choice but to follow along as he pulled you through his house. The two familiar guys were already in his truck when you made it outside, and you could only stare out the window when you slid in next to Topper. You tried to ignore the way Rafe’s words slurred as he got behind the wheel, sipping on your own drink.
You could faintly hear him complaining to the other two about Rose’s ‘awful party’ and needing to ‘hit a few lines’. You rolled your eyes, not enthusiastic to be with Rafe and his friends while they snorted whatever up their noses. Despite his inebriation and irritation, Rafe still helped you out of the truck once he arrived. However, you figured out why when his lips immediately covered yours.
“Maybe you can cheer me up, hmm?” he wondered against your lips before pulling you along.
You almost tripped over the end of your dress, and you watched Rafe loosen his tie as he followed the other two inside. The atmosphere was immediately different, Kelce looking for something on his phone to play while Topper headed to the kitchen for more drinks. If you were going to halfway stomach the three of them at once, you’d need another.
While you went to the bathroom, you resisted the urge to text JJ.
Rafe was drunk—and was about to snort a line or two of coke—so his behavior was going to be extra unpredictable. The last thing you needed was for the blond to inquire about why you were on your phone so much and snatch it from you. You really didn’t want to imagine how that would go, shuddering at the thought, and you pressed your hands to your forehead.
Gazing into the mirror, you thought to yourself that you would’ve never thought this was your life a year ago—hell six months ago.
There was a time where you barely even knew JJ Maybank’s name, and now…now he was…what? Your second boyfriend? Your lover? Your guy on the side? Never mind the fact that you’d been too terrified of Rafe to even entertain the thought, but… There was a time where the thought of cheating on Rafe would’ve made you sick.
You felt your eyes burn, and you pressed your hand to your mouth.
You and Rafe were so far from how you’d started out, and while the abuse had certainly made you realize that, your recent actions only drove it home. You’d been sneaking around with someone that wasn’t your boyfriend. You’d been spending the night with him and kissing him and letting him touch you. The reality of just how far your relationship had fallen made you want to cry…
…and now JJ was talking about getting you out.
The thought was terrifying because…how? How was JJ—with his limited resources—going to do what you couldn’t? The thought of not being with Rafe anymore felt so relieving…but equally as scary. Rafe was all you’d ever known, although, you supposed that was no longer the case, and you reminded yourself that JJ told you not to worry about it.
It was easier said than done.
When you made it back downstairs, music reached your ears, and the sight of Rafe snorting a line off of the coffee table met your eyes. Ignoring him, you made your way to the kitchen, quickly finding yourself a drink. The night was going as it usually did, and for once you were happy to be ignored until Rafe remembered your presence.
You had too much on your mind.
You were on your third drink since coming to Topper’s when you finally found a seat on the couch. You tried to ignore how you stumbled, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as Rafe’s words reached your ears.
“…and the piece of shit just pushes me,” he scoffed. “For no reason.”
“What else can you expect from Pogues, man,” Kelce chimed in, shaking his head.
“The next time I see JJ, I swear to God, I’m going to make him swallow his fucking teeth.”
At that you did huff…and Rafe noticed.
The room grew quiet, but you figured that all the alcohol in your system made it hard to notice.
“Problem…?”
When you glanced up, Rafe’s familiar blue eyes were on you. Kelce and Topper were conveniently looking anywhere else, and you gave a humorless chuckle at their cowardice. You didn’t miss how blown your boyfriend’s pupils were.
“I just think it’s stupid…all of this fighting and back and forth,” you took another sip. “You find him and beat him up? Then what?”
You shrugged.
“He starts another fight the next time he sees you, and so on?”
“I wouldn’t expect you to get it.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” you agreed. “It’s stupid.”
At that, Rafe’s face twitched, and you watched him sit his drink down.
“You almost sound like you’re defending him…”
You were way more drunk than you’d intended, but his tone and the glint in his eye warned you off—your inebriation not making you lose your common sense.
“I’m not defending anyone,” you said after a tense pause. “It just seems unnecessarily violent.”
You thought about how angry JJ had been the other night, the look in his eyes, and you shuddered. You really didn’t want to see JJ and Rafe fight again—ever again if you had any say. Rafe only scoffed at your words before standing and making his way over to you. When he reached for your drink, you held it out of reach, and it was his turn to huff this time.
“You’re embarrassing yourself,” was all he murmured when he leaned in.
“…because I think it’s stupid to not just let this go?” you wondered with a frown. “God forbid you decide to act your age.”
His hand was circling your chin before you realized it, and you heard Topper lightly murmur his name. Your boyfriend stared you down, both of you just holding each other’s gazes as his fingers pressed into your skin. The room felt too quiet and too tense, and you searched his eyes, almost daring him to do something in front of his friends.
Listening to Top, Rafe let you go.
“Maybe I should take you home,” he sneered. “You’re ruining the mood, and nobody wants to hear your Kumbaya bullshit.”
His hand was on your arm, yanking you up, and he paid little attention to how you swayed. Rafe only cared about pulling you along, telling his friends he’d be back. You stumbled a few times in your heels, almost tripping over your dress, but Rafe just continued to force you outside. He practically shoved you into his truck, uncaring if you even pulled your dress inside of the vehicle all the way.
The moment he was next to you, you were unsurprised by the feel of his hand digging into your arm.
“What the hell is your problem? Huh?”
“I don’t have a-.”
“Bullshit!” he spat, shoving you away and starting the truck. “You’re practically defending JJ—telling me to let this go when he’s the one who snaked me.”
You knew that he wasn’t entirely wrong to want retaliation against what he believed to be an unprovoked act of violence, but you just couldn’t get that image out of your head. That glint in JJ’s eyes. If Rafe and JJ fought again, you were worried that someone was seriously going to get hurt, and if it was Rafe, there was no doubt in your mind he’d make JJ’s life hell.
Despite the alcohol and coke in his system, Rafe managed to safely pull into your driveway.
“You should probably drink some water when you get inside,” he mockingly said. “Sloppy drunk isn’t sexy.”
“Fuck you,” you sighed.
The slap was loud in the truck, and your cheek burned beneath your hand when you touched it. You didn’t know if the alcohol made the pain less or worse, and you blinked away tears. Some still escaped though, and you pulled your lip between your teeth as you sniffed.
“Hopefully you’ll have pulled yourself together by the morning,” Rafe murmured, unlocking the truck. “You know I hate when you get like this.”
Stumbling out of the vehicle, you made sure to slam the door behind you.
Rafe didn’t even wait around to watch you go inside, backing out of the driveway just as more tears fell. Your face stung more when the air hit it, and you sniffed, searching in your purse for your keys. Your parents were still at the Camerons’, and considering it was actually still pretty early in the night, you figured they would be for a few more hours. When you dropped the clutch, you cursed, and you were just about to bend down to get it when another hand beat you to it.
“Jesus!”
You might’ve fallen if he hadn’t reached out to grab you.
“No, JJ,” he teased, but his face fell as he really looked at you.
His hand tightened when you swayed, keeping you from falling, and his other hand reached out to hold you too.
“Hey…hey, are you okay?”
You touched your forehead.
“I’m fine,” you sighed. “Just the average night with Rafe Cameron.”
You wiped your face again, and JJ pulled you against him.
“Did he hurt you?”
The question made you laugh, and you reached for your purse again with a shrug.
“I don’t even know if a slap counts anymore,” you choked out with a bitter smile. “Ending the evening with only a slap is considered a good day.”
You could feel yourself crying again—you blamed the alcohol—and you didn’t protest when JJ took your keys. Rafe was long gone, so you let JJ guide you inside, a hand on your waist as he closed the door behind him. When you stumbled in your heels, it was a reminder that you were wearing them, and JJ bent down to help you take them off. You swayed when you put your foot down, and JJ steadied you as he rose.
“Let’s get you upstairs…”
You let him lean you on him, moving towards the staircase.
“It takes almost nothing to get him mad,” you murmured after a few moments, recalling his ire. “I don’t even know what I was thinking drinking so much tonight.”
You always had to be on high alert with Rafe—always had to be hyperaware and hyper focused on every single expression and word and change in body language. There was no relaxing around Rafe ever, and the thought made more tears fall. When you made it to your room, you immediately sat on the floor, dropping your face into your hands.
JJ softly called your name.
“You know that he grabbed me tonight…and Topper and Kelce barely did anything?”
You looked up at the blond as he sadly looked down at you, jaw clenching at that.
“…and I’d like to think that they would do something if he did much worse,” you slowly said. “…but the truth is…”
You shrugged at him.
“I don’t know,” you confessed. “They never speak out against him, so I don’t know why I’d ever expect that where I’m concerned.”
JJ moved to sit down next to you.
“Especially since they barely even acknowledge me on a regular basis.”
“Y/N…”
“I’m sorry,” you tearfully told him, shaking your head when he protested. “I don’t…”
“Don’t apologize for talking to me about this—any of this,” JJ firmly told you, taking your hands. “I wanna hate him for leaving you alone this drunk, but…”
JJ pressed his lips to your cheek.
“He’s probably the last person you should be with,” he whispered, pulling away slightly.
His blue eyes searched yours, and you blinked at him. You could see so many emotions pass over his features, anger being the most prominent, and JJ’s gaze hardened.
“I should kick his ass again-.”
“JJ,” you admonished.
“I should,” he said with a smile, kissing you. “I should do to him exactly what he does to you.”
Your drunk brain knew that JJ was in your bedroom and kissing you, but you couldn’t quite make sense of it. Your face still stung, and your chest still felt heavy, but all you could really focus on was the kiss. JJ kissed you like he missed you, and you supposed that you missed him too. When one of his hands rested on the back of your neck—the other on the zipper of your dress—you touched his chest.
“JJ…”
He gently shushed you, leaning in towards you more.
“It’ll be okay…”
“I don’t… I don’t think this is smart,” you told him, pulling away. “Rafe could easily decide to come back, and I…”
You bit your lip, eyeing him.
“I don’t want this going too far.”
JJ brushed his thumb along your bottom lip, pulling on it a bit.
“Trust me,” was all he said, kissing you again.
You did, but you knew that this wasn’t something you were prepared to handle yet. You wouldn’t be able to take anything back, and you weren’t mentally nor emotionally ready to walk around looking Rafe in the eye and pretending like you hadn’t had sex with someone else. You were already cheating on him, this was true, but sleeping with JJ just felt like the point of no return…and not just because of Rafe.
Rafe was unfortunately the only man you’d ever been with, and you weren’t able to get past that mental barrier.
“JJ,” you protested, words slurred. “Wait…”
Your back was pressed to the floor, JJ’s frame pinning yours down as he kissed you. Your movements were sluggish and weak, the alcohol in your system hindering them. It was hard to tell if you were actively trying to push him away and was just failing, or if you simply weren’t trying, at all because you didn’t want to.
Everything was so confusing.
The sound of the zipper on your dress was loud in the otherwise quiet room, and you shuddered when the air hit you. When JJ kissed you again, your thoughts halted momentarily, and you blinked up at the ceiling when his lips trailed down to your throat. The room was tilting, and you squeezed your eyes shut. The feeling of his lips on your chest and then your stomach made you shudder, and you pressed your hands to your forehead when you felt him yanking your underwear down.
Your next protest was forgotten when he tasted you.
Your chest arched, and you gasped, wide eyes on the ceiling. JJ’s tongue slid between your folds and across your clit while his hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place. His mouth on you was making your head spin, and too many thoughts were racing around in your head. You wanted to push him away…but you also wanted to pull him closer. You wanted to moan, but some part of you also wanted to swallow down every sound that threatened to come up.
Alcohol completely settled in your system, your vision went in and out, and the next time you blinked, JJ’s lips were touching yours. You could taste yourself on them, and you drunkenly hummed. The blond was saying something to you, but you could only halfway focus, slowly blinking at him.
“You’re okay,” he softly repeated.
You realized why when all of your senses came back into focus, and you felt yourself pushing against his chest. It was weak, anyway, positive that JJ could bat your hand away if he wanted to. Instead, he only kissed you again, deeply inhaling and reaching between you. When you felt the tip of him grazing your thigh, a shiver crawled up your spine.
You turned your head when he pressed open mouthed kisses along the expanse of your throat, shifting as he completely got rid of his pants, now. One hand kept himself hovering over you while the other reached behind his head to pull at his shirt. You shuddered again when his bare chest met yours. It was only just hitting you that you were about to have sex with someone that wasn’t Rafe…
…and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.
JJ was slow when he entered you. He took his time in pushing his cock into you inch by inch, and you didn’t know if he was giving you time to adjust or simply savoring the moment. Maybe both. You heard him sigh—you did too—and your nails pressed into his arm. When his hips firmly rested against yours, he held himself there, pausing and just basking in the feel of you wrapped around him.
You were also getting used to the feeling.
While he seemed to be just as long as Rafe, you weren’t prepared for the stretch, and you involuntarily moved your hips. The action made JJ hiss, and he pressed his forehead to yours. His breathing—like yours—was uneven, and he only started to move once he calmed himself down a bit. Pulling his hips back until only the tip of him remained, JJ swiftly thrust into you.
You softly yelped, hanging onto him, and JJ adopted a slow and steady pace. Your dress and the carpet beneath you were soft against your back, and JJ hummed as he sank into you. Your entire body felt abuzz with energy, and it fought with the alcohol in your system. Every push of his hips had you gasping, and when JJ lifted his head, his blue gaze held yours.
You were still really confused—the room tilting around you—but you trusted JJ way more than you ever trusted Rafe. Despite the fact that this was not what you wanted for your evening, your body slowly relaxed underneath his with every thrust. Despite everything, you weren’t scared, and those feelings heavily conflicted with your uncertainty surrounding this.
You hadn’t wanted this…but now all you could think about was JJ’s smooth thrusts and his efforts to push you both over the edge. You hadn’t wanted this, but you forgot why when JJ trailed his lips over your throat, sighing when you threw your head back. Your lips parted, a choked moan escaping as he curved his hips against yours.
JJ was being so gentle with you, and it was what stood out to you the most.
Then again, maybe everything felt good because you were drunk. You felt so light, like you were floating, and your lashes fluttered. JJ’s hand curved against your waist, holding you as he continued to fuck you, while the other ran up and down your side. He was saying something to you, and it took you a moment to focus.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against your lips, kissing you again. “Do you feel okay?”
When you gave him a nod, he smiled against your lips.
“I told you,” he whispered, cock stretching you out and sliding along your walls. “It’ll be okay.”
You moaned his name, chest arching up into his. He cursed as he held you tighter, and you wrapped your arms around him.
When you came around him, JJ kept moving against you, fucking you and plunging his cock into you. You clung to him as you shuddered, gasping and toes curling. When you squeezed your eyes shut, you saw stars, and JJ murmured soft praises into your ear. His movements prolonged your climax, the overstimulation making you shudder, and JJ only slid his hand under you to fist the hair at the nape of your neck.
When he forced your head back, his teeth grazed your neck, head drifting towards your collarbone.
“I want you to think about me every time you’re with him.”
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shotmrmiller · 4 months ago
Text
pretend boyfriend but it's in a time where roads are nothing more than muddy tracks, making travel slow and cumbersome. the town's buildings are a mix of weathered wood and crumbling brick, faded paint peeling off their facades. wanted posters, yellow and tattered, are plastered on every available surface, faces of outlaws and fugitives who roam the countryside depicted in greyish ink.
the townsfolk go about their lives with a wary eye, and you go about yours with a sharp one, in search of opportunity: a cowboy too drunk off his wits to know his right from his left. the humble borough of blackthorn doesn't need any more working girls, no more ladies with hair down to their corseted waists beautifying the arms of both bounty hunters and farm hands alike.
that's fine, you reckon. you've always had a knack for survival. your deft fingers have made a living out of slipping into pockets and relieving men of their hard earned coin pouches when they lose themselves in drink and laughter. its not an easier life than that of the ladies in the saloon but it's yours, and you've learned to navigate it with equal cunning and charm.
but as people say, anything that can go wrong, will and tonight nothing seems to go right for you. just as you'd been slipping the stolen bills from your latest mark in between the swell of your breasts, he stirs from his drunken sleep, bedsheet tangled in his spurs as he struggles to rise onto unsteady feet. his movements are sluggish, muddy brown eyes blinking against the dim light of the quaint room.
you don't wait for him to ask any inane questions, you know when you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. you run out the door on bare feet, fisting the rough fabric of your dress to lift it above your ankles as you barrel down the stairs.
your shoulders ache from bumping into patrons as you try to quickly weave your way toward the door, your breath coming in ragged, panicked gasps. the saloon is a blur or faces and noise, the jaunty tune coming from the piano as fast paced as the galloping of your heart.
just as you reach the swinging doors, you glance outside through the dusty window panes and see someone right across the street in the patio of the drugstore.
the star on his chest gleaming even in the flickering light of the shop is distinctive. your heart sinks like a stone dropped into a well, the weight of the situation leaden over your puffed shoulders.
but you haven't made it this far while skirting around law and order without a sharp mind. your thoughts swirl in your mind as you run through options. a horse loosely tied to the hitching post out front, sleeping roll behind the saddle. you could take it but risk getting roped off by someone. slipping out the windows would draw too much attention. using the back door near the kitchen would have the owner on your arse.
shit. shit-
then you spot him. sitting alone at a table is a hulking, beast of a man. (his broad shoulders and burly frame makes him resemble more mountain than man tbh.) a small shot glass rests on the scratched surface before him, the only delicate item in his vicinity. the wide-brimmed hat he wears casts a shadow over his face but the glint in his eyes is unmistakable. maybe that's why even the other patrons have given him a wide berth. (the knotted scar that runs from the corner of his cheek pulling his lips into a permanent, twisted sneer makes the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end.)
desperation fuels your next move.
your hand trembles when you place it on the the exposed skin of his forearm that's covered in a fine layer of grime, as does your voice when you speak.
"hey-" you don't get to finish your sentence, feeling the words crumble into ash on your tongue when you realize you're out of time. the drunken idiot from upstairs is storming straight towards you, his nostrils flared, white etched on his knuckles. panic surges through you and so you move.
coming to stand behind the seated stranger, your arms cradle his large head, clammy palms flat on the sweat stained fabric of his union shirt. his body tenses under your touch, muscles cooling like a spring, but you muster all the bravado you can.
"if ya got a problem with me," your voice is steady despite the fear that's settled at the base of your spine, "take it up with my husband."
the drunk comes to an abrupt halt, his anger momentarily replaced by confusion, uncertainty, as he glances between you and the human(?) shield you're clinging to.
the room has fallen silent, all eyes on the unfolding drama. they watch with bated breaths, even the bartender had paused mid-polish, his hand frozen on the glass.
the man wavers, his resolve crumbling like freshly tilled dirt before you. but the final nail in the coffin is when your 'husband' grabs onto your arm and leads you to sit onto his lap, both your legs fitting on top of his one, feeling the tarnished buckle of his leather belt even through the couple of layers of your dress on your arsecheek, his arm cinching tightly around your waist.
his skin feels rough, scarred, yet warm, beneath your hand. (embarrassing that this surprises you.)
you can feel his voice vibrate from his chest and sink into your bones when he aids you in this mess you've created. "ya 'eard m'wife. piss off 'fore i make you."
his mouth twists into an ugly line but concedes defeat, telling your 'husband' to "keep his wh-wife on a tighter leash unless she's keen on ending up on a missing poster alongside the wanted ones."
when you turn in his lap to look outside the window, watching the drunk unsteadily get on his horse and leave, you give the man you're on a muted thanks and move to get up only-
the arm around your waist feels more like an iron band. you're can't get up. you can't leave. your feet don't even touch the wooden floorboards of the saloon. you turn your wide eyes toward him, lips parted in surprise.
he doesn't seem as surprised as you.
"wha'? thought you could jus' up and go 'bout your way?"
you open your mouth wider, to scream maybe, you aren't sure but he cuts you off with a sharp suck of his teeth.
"make trouble and there will be trouble. i'll drag your pretty arse to the sheriffs office by the hair."
the realization of what he is keeps you utterly frozen in place, any fight you'd had bleeding out of you.
a bloody bounty hunter. no wonder everyone had kept their distance.
"i'm gonna be finishin' this bottle and you'll be a good wife and draw me a bath in our hotel room."
(he plucks the dirty money from where you'd kept it and tosses it on the bar top, carrying you straight to where he'd hitched his horse and plops you in front, your back to his barrel of a chest. "youll bathe with me, gotta have you clean for our consummation.")
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