#let's hear what the pm had to say

[ailxvau]

Alola Mr. Trump

ur pay?? lmcrq

i am the Valet turned Manager

got her degree right here.

the political undertones are severe

Every Monday? actually hold up.

so i have to give my essays

one for the each island

i also cook and host a book club 💀

[ohcaptains]

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

college! peter parker x fem reader.

18+ only !!! f! receiving oral sex. peter parker has an oral fixation i said what i said. in my spider-man era again.

peter was a weekly visitor at this point. sometimes, it was twice, but never more than three. three was pushing it.

Three said that Peter meant something to you, and you couldn’t have that. No, whatever this was between the pair of you was strictly transactional. It was Peter texting you late at night, the classic, you up? Gracing your screen, and every time, you would pretend to be annoyed.

As if Peter coming around to give you the greatest head of your life was an inconvenience. Tempted, the devil on your shoulder smirking, to type back, Jesus, again? but never doing it. Instead, you wrote: sure.

Still, it plagued your mind. He never asked for anything else.

It was as if he did this purely for himself.

“Oh fuck,” you mewled, clenching down tight. The hand that was wrapped around Peter’s brown curls clutched and tugged, and the unconscious movement earned you a chastised groan. It rumbled through your cunt, and the echo shot to your clit, making you close your eyes and lean back, wet mouth spilling his name into your dorm.

Peter liked hearing you.

Liked seeing you lose your mind with his head between your thighs, your pussy wet and throbbing from his mouth and fingers. It’s why he came around often. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even text, would just knock on your door -- looking sheepish from under his dark curls -- and just. Not. Say. Anything.

His silence was answer enough. You knew what he wanted. Or, needed, as you later figured out, as you saw how red he’d gotten when you told him he couldn’t come around for a bit. When you said something about focusing on exams, he’d come over anyway, whined, shuffled his feet and said, You can do your work, I just gotta…I’ll be quick.

The lack of explanation made your mind swirl. But regardless, you’d let him in and did your work with his head between your thighs. He’d tutored you, too, told you how to solve for x with his fingers inside of you. He’d said, if you let me make you come again, I’ll do your Maths work for the next week. After he’d left, you stared at the scene of the crime in pure silence.

Just…reflecting.

Peter fluttered his tongue over your swollen clit. Focused on swirling it around his tongue in sloppy, wet circles, and the thick desire that swelled between your thighs began to pool at your lower back, forcing you to arch up into it.

“Please,” you wept, even though he was giving you what you wanted. Flat on your back with his deft grip keeping your bare thighs open. It was 8 pm. He’d caught you just after your shower, so the smell of your shampoo and body wash wafted through the air – Lavender and pear.

Peter had spread you open and said you smelled like spring. You’d been far too turned on to comment on it. He grumbled into your cunt, and you managed to work out the word, more? You hummed, too drunk on him and wound tight to verbalise that yes, you wanted more. Wanted him to make you come, and come again, till all you could do was mumble his name and focus on your breathing.

He'd learnt how you liked it. Paid attention, and he was getting full scores as he pushed his tongue flat against your swollen clit and sucked. Your vision went white.

“Oh fuck – ohfuck, Peter—” you squirmed, but Peter was strong, and he held you to the bed with his vice-like grip, wordlessly saying take it take it take it.

He lapped at you, salvia drooling over your cunt and down his chin, soaking the sheets. He was always so careless. In moments like this, that nervous edge that always fluttered around him was gone, replaced by a visceral drive to either please you, or get what he wanted.

The two bled into each other.

His tempo was leisurely, but that didn’t stop the heat from washing over you all at once.

You clamped your thighs around his ears and moaned -- loud, so loud that you were sure the other students on your floor heard.

Still, the ache was erratic, “So good,” you sobbed, and you heard yourself, heard the near primal need in your voice, and the desperation made you embarrassed, made you cover your mouth with your palm and grip the sheets, willing yourself to cool it. 

“Move your hand, or I’ll stop,” he uttered against you, and your clit was so sore that the echo of his words made your eyes roll back. Peter must have seen, as he hummed a laugh, and kissed your inner thigh, “lemme hear you.”

Managing to gain some sense of sanity, you blearily blinked down at him, but all sense of stability you thought you had was wiped away when you saw Peter had his hand stuffed down his pants.

You dropped back onto the bed and sobbed.

You knew he got off on this, but Jesus Christ, you’d never seen that before.

“Gotta be kidding me,” you breathed, and Peter must have understood what you were referencing, as he buried his reddening face into your inner thigh. He let out a breathy chuckle, “’ M’sorry,” he mumbled, “usually I wait till I get home, but you’re just so hot.”

You had to stay completely still, or you’d burst. Usually, I wait till I get home?

Peter moved his face and began nuzzling the wet folds of your pussy. He bumped his nose against your clit, and you quietly choked.

Peter hummed, “couldn’t help myself.”

You figured he did something like that, but the admission made your thighs tense. You pictured him stumbling home – cheeks still wet with you – and tugging his pants down, quickly shoving his hands into his boxers and taking hold of his aching cock. Did he whimper when he came? Or was he silent, all tremors and low grunts? No. He definitely whimpered.

He was far too pretty to stay quiet.

The sudden desire to kiss him swept over you.

Reaching down, you tugged at his curls, wordlessly motioning him to move. When he did, you briefly saw the red of his cheeks and wet of his nose before you kissed him, all tongue, and tasted yourself on his pink lips.

Peter melted into you. Huffed your name like a sigh, and the sheer tenderness of it had you wrapping your legs around his back and pressing your bare cunt against his jeans.

He was rock-hard. Tentatively, you ran your nails over his chest, and dipped low, pressing between his thighs, cupping his bulge, and gently squeezing. Peter wept.

“Oh fuck,” he sobbed, as desperate as you imagined. With one hand in his hair and the other on his cock, you continued to kiss him, until the ache between your thighs became too much to bear.

“Make me come,” you whispered, “and I’ll put you in my mouth.”

Peter had never moved so fast in his life.

[gyuswhore]

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence. 

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.” 

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault. 

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting. 

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  

“Am I late for something again?” 

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 

“So you can fix it?” 

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly. 

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.” 

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.” 

You questioned if this was a mistake. 

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 

“Shall we go to the office then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 

Cute. 

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?” 

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?” 

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 

“Are you doing anything else today?” 

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 

“Fuck, yes you can.” 

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 

[hotyanderedaddies]

The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 2:

Yandere Bully Gives You Rules to Follow

Part 1

[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

Blake, the school bully who often elicited terrified looks and sent people scurrying to safety, had for some reason claimed you as his.

"You're mine."

That phrase that Blake had growled to you kept replaying in your addled brain over and over.

You didn't exactly know what that meant. However, given your status as the school's resident nerd, you figured that you were meant to be his sole victim for relentless teasing and harassment.

Yet, there you were: Your hand trapped in a deathgrip from none other than Blake.

The rest of the student body cast disbelieving glances towards the two of you, many of them dropping their jaws in shock at the sight of the terrifying bully and the school nerd walking hand-in-hand.

"The fuck are you lookin' at?" Blake spat at some of them, momentarily letting go of your hand as he did so-- only to wrap a possessive, heavy arm around your shoulders.

The terrified glances from the fearful students flickered from Blake to you before diverting altogether.

Your face burned bright hot and the tiny voice in the back of your head told you to run as fast as you could. You totally would've too, had you not been trapped in the hold of the school bully.

You were too busy panicking on the inside to notice when Blake stopped at your locker, did your combo to unlock it, snatched your Pre-Cal textbook out of it (your first class), and led you towards class.

"Wait," you gasped when you finally put two and two together, "how did you know my--?"

"Give me your phone," Blake grunted as soon as the two of you were at your first period class. He stopped right near the door where the rest of the class could easily see you (and quite a few of the nosey ones were gawking), holding out his free hand expectantly.

Oh! This must've been it.

All Blake had really wanted was your phone.

You mentally berated him for being so weird and cryptic if all he'd wanted was a free phone; but you figured that going without a phone for a bit was leagues better than dealing with the school bully twenty-four/seven; hence, you practically thrusted it at the guy.

Blake ignored your eagerness, still keeping one arm secured around you, trapping you tightly against him. You could smell his body spray permeating your senses and the heat from his larger body was overbearing. In fact, thanks to the unwanted proximity, you could clearly see how Blake towered over you and just how muscled he was-- he could easily manhandle you all day if he wanted (and he seemed to REALLY want to lately).

Blake somehow knew your passcode (1-2-3-4) and began to mess around with your phone using his free hand. Seconds later, he handed it back to you.

Before you could ask what was up, Blake quickly leaned down and--

Out of instinct, you jerked back.

Blake frowned and pursed his lips into a thin line. "That's two," he huffed. "I'll be here when class gets out."

"Wh-why?" you couldn't help but ask.

Blake rolled his eyes at you. "So I can walk you to your next class," he grunted, again making it sound like it was obvious. "I'll see you soon, my angel."

With that, Blake gave you a gentle push towards the classroom as he disappeared among the crowd in the hallway.

Throughout class, you struggled to concentrate on the lecture. The whole time, your thoughts kept drifting back to the scary bully who wouldn't leave you alone. Plus, you were hyperaware of the all of the stares from the other students, hearing murmurings involving Blake and you.

Midway through class, your phone vibrated and you glanced at the notifications to see a rather long text from Blake:

My Angel, here's a set of rules that I expect you to follow:

You belong to me and only me

No talking to any other boys

I will drive you to and from school

I will escort you between classes

You will call me every night no later than 9 PM so I can say "Goodnight"

Every weekend you will stay over at my place

I get to hold you whenever I want

You better tell me if someone bothers you or tries to take you away from me so I can have a "chat" with them

I get at least one kiss per day

Tonight I want you to start calling me "Daddy"

Follow these rules and I promise that I will take good care of you.

But disobey these rules and I will punish you. And you're already at two out of three.

See you soon.

Love you.

The blood drained from your face as you read and re-read the text from Blake.

This had to be some sort of sick joke. The school bully had legit just said that he loved you over text. He was lying... right?

Images of his past victims flashing into your mind: black eyes, people getting the crap beat out of them, relentless tormenting, threats of violence and bodily harm-- just hearing the name "Blake" was enough to send shivers down your spine.

Yet, when you really thought about it, Blake never had bullied YOU specifically...

Your phone buzzed again with another notification, this one with an icon that you didn't recognize:

YAN-Tracker: The location tracking app that let's you keep an eye on those most precious to you...

A tracking app?!

That's what Blake had been doing on your phone, downloading some sort of tracking app?

Instinctively, you went to uninstall it, but as soon as you tried, a notification box popped up, requesting a passcode.

You tried to enter in yours, only to be dismayed that it wasn't the correct one.

Your heart raced in your chest as you mulled over all that had happened recently-- all of the signs pointing to a horrifying realization:

Blake, the school bully, wanted you. And he wanted you badly.

Without another word, you quietly got out of your desk (leaving your phone behind), and tip-toed out of class, praying that Blake wouldn't see you making your escape...

To be continued...

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

P.S. the following have requested that I tag them in this update as of the posting of this! Thank you very much for reading and I hope you all enjoy this part! @eoryn-shit @paninibit @evan-trand @psychicglitterdetective @springkuinn @vinivave

[cyber333angel]

HATE SEX WITH RAFE !

you and rafe had been arguing for about three days now, huffing and puffing whenever you saw each other and slamming doors around the house. however today, you really wanted to piss him off and get back at him. it was around 8 pm where you were putting the finishing touches to your pretty little outfit, layering your jewelry and picking out what delicious scent you would smell like tonight.

you grabbed your purse and started to head down the stairs where rafe sat on the couch occupying himself with his phone. as he heard the click clacks of your heals he looked up from the screen, observing the way your tits bounced with every step and how the volume of your hair sprung up and down, overall how absolutely gorgeous you looked. a loud voice interrupts you as you reach the last step, “where the fuck are you going dressed like that?” unfazed by the hostility, you answer. “a party.” you give him a short response, purposely to tick him off and you see rafe spring up from his seat, walking towards you. “a party with who?” he says while nodding his head and biting his thumb. you look up at him annoyed. “with sarah and kie, why do you care anyway?” you break eye contact with him and you start walking to the entryway, almost at the door handle. mumbling under your breath quietly, “so annoying like..get out of the fucking way.“

you knew better than to talk to your boyfriend like that, realizing it when suddenly your throat and hand that was reaching for the door, are held in a tight grip from rafe. “don’t ever fix your mouth to say some shit like that to me again, you hear me?” startled by his sternness you decide to push him more, just to see how far he would go. “fuck you rafe, your not the boss of me.” rafe twists his head at you, since it seems like your not knowing who your talking to. “yeah, im not the boss of you?”

..your now on the bed, your coily hair held in rafes hand in a tight grip as he abuses your cunt. he bunched up the dress halfway up your spine, panties lost at the end of your ankle as your knees pressed into the bed. your ass ricocheted off his pelvis from the brutal pace, and your eyes went half lidded from the pain and pleasure. “got some fuckin nerve thinking you could talk to me like that.” he had been fucking you for what seemed like hours at this point, his cock buried in your pussy leaking out white liquid. “mmm daddy m’so-sorryy! won’t do it again i swear!” you beg, your soaked hole becoming sensitive at every harsh thrust he makes you take.

rafe ignores your pleads, letting it really sink in and make you think of the way you acted earlier. “nah but you weren’t sorry before when you wanted to go act like a slut at some fucking party.” he bends down close to your ear, pulling your hair to level your face with his. “huh sweetheart? what happened to all that fuckin talk? i thought i wasn’t the boss of you?” you could only answer with sobs and cry’s from how rough he was being. your wet skin smacking together, sweaty from how good he was making you feel. his cock dragging in and out of your cunt making your head spin, “hngh..slo-slow down rafey!” he grips the fat of your ass and relaxes his pace, fucking you slowly as he runs his hands through his hair straightening his back. he ponders, opening his mouth to ask you a question. “where’d you learn to speak to me like that hm? never spoke t’me like that before so what happened, you needed some dick?” he waits for your response, still rocking his hips back and forth slowly.

you shake your head, “d-didn’t want to argue with you anymore daddy.. im sorry nd ill be good now promise!” whining at him, rafe coos at you, knowing you only did this to end the useless bickering between the two of you. “t’aw s’okay baby i know your sorry, i know your a good girl. daddy doesn’t like to argue with you either alright?” you nod frantically, happy that your little squabble with your boyfriend was over. “go on and cum on this dick sweetheart, just like that..” he admires you from above, watching the way you squirm as you cream on his cock. rafe put in a last few thrusts and pulls out, cumming on your back where your dress was bunched up at the top. it was a shame though, you really did look good in that dress.

[shimonerin]

"Tell Me Why I Married You Again?"

Content: Half of the school ships the teacher and the coach, not knowing they're married

Tags: use of "ma'am/mrs." to the reader, fluff, bickering, old married couple vibes

Word Count: 848

The sound of fists smacking hard against the ball and the high-pitched squeak of the boys’ sneakers can be heard even before you could enter the gym. It’s 3 pm and, as usual, there was an ongoing session of volleyball training. Interhigh Preliminaries are near but that doesn’t mean you’re going to let this slide.

Pushing open the sliding doors, the warm air of, well, sweat filled the enclosure. One of the reasons you don’t like going here. 

“Hinata, nice spike! Keep it up!” Ukai’s loud, booming voice echoed throughout the gym. As expected, he didn’t really notice your presence, despite standing near the doorway. God, he is such an idiot sometimes.

“Hey, Keishin.” Your voice, low yet firm, seemed to catch the attention of everyone. Not exactly how you wanted this to happen.

Ukai seemed startled at your presence, his eyes widening and his mouth agape “Hey! Uh, (Y/N)? What are you doing here?”

With your hands on your hips, he knew exactly why you’re here. He just didn’t want to make a fool of himself. 

You could already see the shit-eating grins on some of the boys’ faces, specifically Tanaka and Noya’s. You rolled your eyes and stepped forward “Where are the jerseys? The principal has been grilling my ass over this for two days now.” You told him, a gaze that only an annoyed wife would give plastered on your face.

Last weekend, there was an emergency. Apparently, during one of their out-of-school jogs around the area, Hinata and Kageyama, expectedly, fell into one of the mud pits. This leads to Ukai having to take two of the spare school uniforms in your classroom, which you let him. What you didn’t know was the fact the principal was keeping tabs over these.

He crossed his arms over your chest, looking off to the side as he tried to explain, tumbling over some of the words “W-Well, you know I didn’t really had time to…wash it yet…with the store and the training and all…” His words sheepishly drawled across his lips.

You raised an eyebrow “Why did I know you would do that?”

“Oh, come on! I-I’ll wash it tomorrow, I promise! I’d even give it to the principal himself if you’re too busy!” He exclaims, rubbing the back of his head as he looks at you with a pleading look.

By this point, the boys are already snickering behind their back. Probably finding more ways to tease the both of you.

“Do you really think I’m stupid, Keishin?” You scoffed “I’m letting you do whatever so you better keep your word, you hear?”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Noya suddenly perked up from his place “Why don’t we just wash it for you, Coach? You should focus on taking Mrs. (Y/N) out for dinner tonight. She seems pretty pissed.”

Daichi smacked the back of his head as soon as his words left his mouth. But the others couldn’t help but chuckle. It’s a bit of an inside joke to the students to ship the both of you together. 

Ukai clicked his tongue at their antics “Hey, Noya, if you don’t zip your-”

“We were actually going to check out that new ramen place by the corner.” You quickly cut him off, leading to a lot of cheers and jeering among the gym.

Lots of “See? I told you they were dating!”, “Wait til everybody hears about this!”, and “I knew that the first time I saw Coach bring Mrs. (Y/N) a cup of coffee!”

Keishin had the brightest red on his cheeks, pinching the bridge of his nose. With all the (silly) bickering you do with your husband, it doesn’t hurt to tease him from time to time.

You turned back to the boys and furrowed your eyebrows “What do you mean dating? Didn’t you already know?”

A chorus of “Huh?” erupted from the team

You grabbed Keishin’s hand and held out the glinting wedding ring on his finger before putting up your hand in comparison “We’re married. For 3 years now. Ever wonder why we bicker so much?”

Needless to say word got out very, very quickly. And a string of new jokes by the Karasuno Volleyball Team were continuously thrown at Ukai every day. 

“You made my life miserable.” He groaned, resting his head on your shoulder while you were on the couch, grading some of your students’ assignments “You should pay for that.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it.”

“I don’t!”

You smirked to yourself, letting out a small chuckle. You ran your free hand over his hair, giving it a gentle massage “Alright, I’ll take it back. We’re divorced now, then?”

“No, God!” He’d shout, his head shooting up from your words as his eyebrows scrunched up together “You’re an asshole sometimes, you know that?”

You let out a low hum of amusement, turning to him with hearts in your eyes. “Sometimes, I wonder why I even let you put a ring on me.”

Ukai couldn’t understand how he can love someone more than he already does. He guesses you’re a living example of that.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ MEET ME IN THE AFTERGLOW ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ post-sukuna fight: no victory comes without a loss, and his win came at the cost of his eyesight

contents: fem!reader. some combination of hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff.

author's note: inspired by levi at the end of aot ꨄ︎

7:58 PM

satoru gojo had always had the best eyes. sorcerer, curse, human – you could search the whole world, and nobody else would even come close.

but the aftermath of satoru's fight with sukuna changed everything. after a long, painful battle, satoru came out on top, but at a great cost. his eyes.

dying wishes are powerful, especially from a curse as strong as sukuna. right before the king of curses was done for, he pooled everything he had left into a final attack to ensure that satoru gojo would never be the same. he succeeded.

now, almost a week after the fight, long after the dust settled and peace had reclaimed the jujutsu society, satoru still insists on wearing his blindfold around the clock.

no matter what you try or how you ask, he stubbornly refuses let you see underneath. actually, it'd be more accurate to say that he doesn't respond at all. after all, to your dismay, he's a master at avoiding questions and delaying answers.

you weren't even sure if there was any change to how he looked. maybe he looked the exact same underneath. maybe he had a couple scars. fuck, for all you knew he didn't even have eyes at all anymore.

you just wish he would let you see the new him. he doesn't even have it that bad – thanks to six-eyes, he can still see the silhouettes of cursed energy. and he wore a blindfold most days anyway, so it wasn't too much of a change.

which is why you weren't sure why he wouldn't just take the damn blindfold off.

"satoru, please let me see," you beg, tugging at his shirt sleeve. "i miss your pretty face. and honestly, who wears a blindfold to bed?"

he laughs at your incredulous question, but it sounds forced and unnatural. satoru tugs his arm away and waves you off. "let me take a shower, 'kay? i just got out of work, and i'm probably covered in germs."

you hate this new satoru – the one who won't let you get too close or even see his face anymore. he just won't open up to you, and it's frustrating. "satoru, please? let me in."

at the sound of your pleading voice, satoru rests one hand on the bathroom door and sighs before turning around to face you. he's smiling, but it seems so off – like all his smiles do nowadays.

"you try'n to watch me shower, sweetheart?" he cracks, running a hand through his hair. "i know you love seeing me naked, but-"

"satoru." 

"get off my dick," he grumbles lightly, before strolling into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. maybe you imagine it, but you could swear that you hear the soft click of a lock turning.

10:34 PM

"good night, sweetheart," satoru mumbles, pressing his lips to your shoulder and rolling over onto his side. he still has his blindfold on, and the almost undetectable glow eminating from his skin shows that he has a very subtle form of limitless active.

it's been like this every night.

"satoru, can we talk?" you whisper, trailing a hand through his damp white hair. "please?"

"is it about the blindfold?"

"obviously."

he sighs and rolls over again to face you, the soft glow fading from his skin. "give it a rest, yeah?" he says, exasperated. "i'm not ready for anyone to see."

"satoru, even you don't know what your eyes look like under the blindfold," you murmur. "and do you really trust me that little?"

he lifts one of his hands and rests it on your shoulder, thumb tracing circles as he leans in and says "of course i trust you."

you shake your head and sit up, pressing your back against the headboard. "no, you don't."

"then why'd you as-"

"why do you sleep with limitless on now?" you interject, crossing your arms. "what happened to 'i never have limitless on around you'?" you whisper, quoting something he told you when you two first starting dating. back when he could look you in the eye.

satoru sighs again and sits up alongside you. "you know why."

"you seriously think i'd do that?"

"i..." he trails off, slipping a finger underneath his blindfold to rub one of his eyes. "i don't know. all i know is that i'm not ready for anyone to see me like... this." 

"satoru, you can't keep running away from everyone forever," you say, shaking your head again. "you-"

"i know, i know," he mutters. "it's not that simple."

he's stubborn – he always has been. and you're mostly used to it, which is why you know that the best way to get satoru to change his mind on something is to ease him into it instead of pushing and shoving.

so you switch gears, and instead of arguing more you reach out and take his hand. "what are you afraid of?"

"nothing. i'm the strongest," satoru replies automatically. the response sounds so automated, so pre-written that you can't help but smile. 

"okay," you say neutrally, trying to reword your question. "why don't you want to show me what your eyes look like? you've haven't even seen them yourself."

satoru smiles sourly and his hands curl into white-knuckled fists around the bedsheets. "and i never will. i'm blind now, remember, sweetheart?" his words are laced with bitterness, even (and especially) in the final word. 

but it wasn't you who satoru was resentful towards. it was himself. 

how could he have so foolishly let down his guard before sukuna was confirmed to be dead? how could he let his characteristic arrogance get the better of him? he made the same mistake when he was a teen, and now he's done it again as the strongest – although this event may have stripped him of his title.

a mixture of emotions crosses what little you can see of his face, and it's now more than ever that you wish you could be there for him. 

but he's the only one alive who knows what it's like to be the strongest.

so as much as you wish you could tell him that everything's going to be okay and that he'll always be the strongest, you know damn well that you don't know and that he might not be.

somehow, this conversation has evolved from your desire to see his face to something more.

a silent, mutual understanding passes between you and satoru, and the thickness in the air slowly dissolves. 

"sorry," you breathe. "i was being selfish, wasn't i?"

satoru shakes his head, a smile growing on his face. "nah, you're right. i don't even know what i look like."

he lifts a hand and slips his thumb underneath his blindfold, and after a brief moment of hesitation, slides it off.

to your surprise, satoru looks more or less the same. his eyes aren't cloudy and they still glow with that familiar bright blue. the only difference, which was expected, was how his eyes didn't quite settle on you. they were pointed in your direction, but his eyes didn't entirely focus on you.

"so?" satoru asks, running a finger over his eyes. "how bad is it?"

"satoru, you look the same."

he blinks and doesn't answer for a second, as if he's processing the information. "really?" he asks, an unreadable expression on his face.

"yep."

"oh. well, that was anticlimactic," satoru says with a lopsided grin. he leans forward and scoots down from his spot against the headboard, laying his head on a pillow and pulling you on top of his chest. "my bad."

"you idiot," you mumble, pressing your face into his neck. "i didn't get to see your pretty face for a whole week."

"ah, i believe it was only six days."

"and satoru, you even turned on limitless at night! the hell would i even do? cut your blindfold off in the middle of the night?" you grumble, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. "and i can't believe that the only reason you didn't want to show me your face is because you thought you weren't pretty anymore!"

satoru grins lazily and rests one of his hands on your waist, slipping a finger under the waistband of your shorts and idly rubbing your skin.  "keep venting, sweetheart. it's cute."

he laughs when you swat him with another pillow and pulls you in for a long kiss. and that's when you know that things might never go back to how they were in satoru's glory days. 

but as the night falls and slips away in satoru's arms, you think that maybe, just maybe, this works too.

[miyasturniolo]

INNOCENT GIRL | matt sturniolo

pairing: bf!matt x f!reader

summary: you have always been an innocent girl to everyone, but matt has noticed your attitude and actions, which led him to punishing you.

warning: smut, dom!matt, swearing, p in v, pet names (slut, baby, love, darling, bad girl, bitch), unprotected sex, hair pulling, use of y/n, crying, nipple playing, dirty talking, blow job, rough sex, bratty y/n.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. agh, a bit rushed and late to say but I’m so happy that the sturniolo triplets are at 7M

WORDS: 2.6k

miyasturniolo on wattpad

you - pink | matt - blue

-

Matt adored you deeply and always made sure you felt that. He appreciated your gentle nature and how much of a kind hearted person you were.

He was always tender with you, knowing you were sensitive to touch, making sure to handle you with care.

Though there were times when he let his anger get the best of him and was harsh with you, he always regretted it and made amends by doing whatever you wished since he made you feel horrible about yourself.

Recently, he noticed you becoming more distant and acting rudely towards others. He reached a breaking point and decided to give you space.

Leaving you alone in his room, he went to record a YouTube video with his brothers in the kitchen, hoping that some time by yourself would help you return to your usual self.

While you scrolled through your phone, you could faintly hear Matt and his brothers laughing, sparking your curiosity. However, you chose to block out the noise by putting on headphones, not wanting to engage with anyone at that moment for reasons unknown.

You were listening to your shuffle mix but it seemed like it passed quickly due to Matt entered the room which meant he finished recording. You didn't even bother to say hi, but he knew you noticed him.

He huffed and left you to it, grabbing his sweatpants to change. He didn't mind if you were looking or not, as you had seen him like this before.

You didn't dare glance at him, and Matt had a feeling you wouldn't. He stayed silent after changing, then left the room for the bathroom, probably to brush his teeth and take care of business as it was already 11 pm.

"Hey y/n, my brothers and I are going to watch a movie in the lounge... would you like to join?" he asked from the door frame, still brushing his teeth.

You continued scrolling on your phone but gave a thumbs down in response. He rolled his eyes, noticing you were still being dismissive.

After a minute or two of brushing his teeth, he finished and frowned at you, but you hadn't seen his reaction.

“Alright, I'm leaving you here," he wanted to stay with you because he cared about you, but he couldn't handle your attitude and guessed you didn't want to see him.

He decided to leave you be, closing the door behind him. As you took off your headphones, you could faintly hear his footsteps moving away.

You were aware that you were being difficult, but you couldn't help it. Feeling tired and unable to sleep, you found yourself giving everyone the same negative energy.

Before long, Matt returned unexpectedly. You met his gaze with surprise, but remained silent.

"Nick mentioned you might be on, so I brought some chocolate from the cupboard," he said, placing the chocolate next to you and handing you a hot water bottle.

Although you were confused because you weren't expecting him and you weren’t on your period, you appreciated the gesture. You smiled faintly, but remained silent.

"You know what? I want you to say thank you. I'm not going to treat you like a princess when you're behaving like a brat," he snapped, clearly upset by your actions.

You raised an eyebrow, meeting his intense blue eyes as he stood with his arms crossed firmly.

"Well then, thank you," you finally spoke, your voice tinged with sarcasm from lack of use.

He wasn't convinced by your words and struggled to remain calm. "Y/n, baby, if you give me that fucking attitude again, I won't hesitate to make you regret it."

You laughed, aware of your bratty behavior but unconcerned, which only seemed to infuriate Matt more. He watched as you put your headphones back on.

Suddenly, he slammed his bedroom door shut, startling you into thinking he had left. Instead, he approached you, swiftly removing your headphones and snatching your phone before tossing it away, careful not to damage it though.

"Matt, what-" you started to speak, but he hushed you, clearly angry. You weren't going to listen and were about to speak, which led him to harshly pull your hair to get your attention.

"Shut up. What you're going to do is suck my fucking cock until I tell you to stop. I don't care if your throat gets bruised, I'll appreciate the silence," he said in a forceful tone, making sure his brothers wouldn't hear. He tugged your hair before stepping back to expose himself by lowering his sweatpants.

Without saying a word, he intended for you to perform the act, but he sought permission through his eyes. If you truly didn't want to, he would stop. He understood that you were more reserved, so this forceful approach likely left you feeling vulnerable and speechless.

After locking eyes with you, he received a nod, confirming your consent. Without hesitation, he stroked himself to get harder than he guided himself into your mouth as you sat up slightly.

“Want me to stop, then say so." He didn't appreciate your behavior and wouldn't have spoken like this, but he had too since he felt a bit concerned because you weren't accustomed to roughness.

He proceeded to guide you to perform oral sex on him, occasionally causing you to gag.

"If you hadn't been acting like a bitch today, I would have given you whatever you desired. But you had to be a bad girl, didn't you?" he remarked, with a moan escaping him as he felt the warmth of your mouth around his shaft, making him bite his lip to stifle his own sounds of pleasure, mindful of his brothers in the house.

He encouraged you to increase the pace without hesitation, locking eyes with you as he twitched with pleasure, particularly around his erect member.

Sensing his impending climax, you intensified your efforts. You were surprised by how quickly he was reaching the peak, realizing that at this moment, he wasn't as gentle in bed as he had portrayed himself to be.

"If I wanted to, I could bruise your throat, but since I'm feeling generous, I won't. But damn, I really want to," Matt says in a low voice. He makes you take it all which made your eyes watering by the gag you did.

Your nose brushing against his skin as you comply, but soon he ejaculates without warning which makes tears roll down your cheek but not on purpose.

He makes you swallow it, unconcerned about his semen dripping down your chin. He bites his lip, trying not to moan too loudly because of his brothers.

Releasing your hair, he allows you to pull away after you've swallowed, your eyes meeting his. "Matt," you whisper, but he just smirks, wipes the cum off your chin, and makes you suck his thumb.

"You did a good job, darling," he winks before standing up, grabbing a tissue to clean himself before getting dressed.

Your eyes follow his movements as you feel wet, and you know he's aware of it. He chuckles as he heads towards the door.

"I don't reward naughty girls. Maybe if you change your attitude, you might get lucky," he says before closing the door behind him as he goes to join his brothers with the film.

"Matt?!" You called out, speaking quietly instead of shouting, hoping he would hear you. However, he ignored you and sat down with his brothers. You groaned softly and stayed silent.

You decided not to approach him since he was with his brothers. Instead, you lay on his bed, feeling a need for him but trying to ignore it.

You were aware that touching yourself would only intensify your desire for him, as your fingers were not like his. So, you simply chewed on your lips while returning to your phone.

You were still turned on, your lips in a slight pout after biting your lips. You could still feel how wide he was around your lips just moments ago.

You had texted him, but it was evident he was ignoring you. You glanced at your text before getting comfortable on his bed.

You let out a slight groan before sending Matt a few more texts, noticing that he was reading them now but not replying.

Hoping for a message from him, you were interrupted by the sound of the door closing as Matt entered.

"Can't you see I'm watching a movie with my brothers? Do you always have to bother me?" he said with a smile, briefly showing his tongue between his teeth.

You looked at Matt. "But Matt, I'm sorry... I apologize for my behavior," you said, prompting him to laugh at your words as he leaned against his bedroom door for a moment.

"You apologising because you feel it, or because I won't fuck you like I usually do?" he says bluntly, meeting your gaze.

Noticing your silence and the expression in your eyes, he rolls his eyes. "Looking at me like that won't make me feel guilty," even though he finds himself looking at you with desire.

You continue to keep your eyes on him, and he sighs before locking the door and sitting down next to you. "You’ve got on my nerves today, and now you're staring at me like a slut. Screw you," he whispers with a slight smile.

"I mean I am a slut for you," you tilt your head slightly, causing him to adjust his position as he feels his sweatpants getting tighter because of you.

"Don't, y/n," he warns, eyeing you up before closing his eyes briefly and then focusing on your face.

You chuckle softly before running your hand over his chest, slowly moving closer to him as you start to kiss his neck, prompting him to move his head to make it easier for you.

You playfully nibbled on his neck, your hands moving towards his shirt while you create hickeys that he loved, but always got angry about it when he had to film a YouTube video with his brothers, as his fans would find out.

You paused, leaving hickeys which will show later and removed his shirt. Though he tried to stay mad at you for your behavior earlier in the day but your current actions were making him forget all about it.

"Are you really doing this while my brothers are in the other room?" he muttered, knowing that you riding him would make it impossible for him to stay quiet.

"You weren't complaining when I was giving you a blowjob," you teased, kissing his lips to prevent him from responding.

He kissed you back and touched your chest, even though you were wearing a shirt. You focused on his pleasure, ignoring his touch.

He knew you were usually gentle in bed, but the way you kissed him made him want to have his dick in you right then and there. He realized that you were going to be rough for once but he wasn’t gonna allow you to fuck him when he can’t punish you.

You quickly pull away to remove your shirt while Matt deftly unclasps your bra with one hand, a move he has mastered through repeated practice with you.

"Impatient?" you tease, but he silences you with a hush. "I suggest you keep quiet, you're the one in the wrong," he retorts, prompting you to roll your eyes.

"If you try to boss me around, I might just leave you like this," you retort, playfully tapping his nose before removing his sweatpants, revealing his nakedness. You are surprised to find he isn't wearing any boxers.

As you gaze at his throbbing manhood, a smirk plays on your lips. Despite his hips twitching in anticipation, you press him down with your weight.

He grows impatient, enjoying your dominance but craving to be intimate with you. Catching your gaze, he swiftly pins you down and takes charge before you can react.

"Another time, darling," he whispers with a wink, planting a kiss on your neck and fondling your breasts. He then begins to tease your nipples as he harshly bites your neck and licks it.

He pressed his hand over your mouth, stifling your moans. "Hey, stay silent, got it?" he whispered sharply.

You nodded in agreement as he released your mouth. He ceased nibbling on your neck and instead traced his tongue down to your stomach.

Goosebumps erupted on your skin as you brushed his hair away from his eyes. He planted a kiss on your stomach before pulling back.

Meeting your gaze, he proceeded to remove your shorts and underwear simultaneously. His smirk grew as he observed your reaction before kissing the top of your intimate area and withdrawing.

"I'm not going to make it easy for you. I want your apology to be sincere," he declared, firmly grasping your chin to establish eye contact. Your heart raced.

"I'm sorry, I truly am," you whispered, causing him to briefly glance down at his arousal before returning his focus to you. "Say it again," he demanded.

Before you could comply, he forcefully entered you, prompting a loud moan and an arch of your back, followed swiftly by his hand covering your mouth.

He knew you wouldn't stay silent, so he quickly grabbed his shirt and stuffed it in your mouth. Your eyes widened as he spoke. "You need to stay quiet."

Without any warning, he deeply thrust inside you, causing you to moan, though it was muffled.

Although you weren't used to his roughness, you found yourself starting to enjoy it. You whimpered and grabbed his back, scratching it in response.

He groaned, tightly closing his eyes before easing up slightly. His thrusts became faster until he reached his limit of speed.

He continued grunting, keeping it quiet as he was skilled at being dominant. He held your legs to widen them further.

He felt you tighten around him, biting his lip to stifle a loud moan. His hands gravitated to your breasts once more, his thumb stimulating your nipples more intensely.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, the desire evident in your eyes signaling your impending climax. He intensified his thrusts, pushing a few more times before you reached the peak of pleasure.

Your loud moans were muffled by his shirt as he felt you envelop his manhood, prompting him to grip your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he continued thrusting until he reached his own climax.

Moaning with his eyes rolling back, both bodies glistened with sweat. He quickly pulled away, watching as his essence leaked out of you.

He gazed at your womanhood as you both caught your breath. Eventually, he turned to you. "Have you learned your lesson?" he inquired, to which you nodded.

He lay down beside you, picking up his phone to text his brothers that he wouldn't be joining them for the movie until he had cleaned both of you up.

masterlist! guidelines & information! wattpad! socials!

[neo-nomatrix]

Hate the AM, Hate the PM, But love you

Hobie Brown x reader

word count: 969

find the mini series here

tags: @maxjesty @marshallowy @sh-tposter2021 @ilovebhna @ladyagagaslefttoe

synopsis: Hobie is still a slightly infuriating neighbor, but there’s something about that jacket and guitar that are all too familiar.

a/n: DRUNK CONFESSIONS!! Part two of this fic. I wasn’t going to write another part to it but i caved 😔

You stood him up. You fucking stood him up. Hobie spent the entire show looking out into the crowd, ignoring the blinding stage lights, to try and find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He asked so nicely too! Despite his nonchalant attitude it took him so long to build up the courage to ask you out. He had dinner reservations planned, which he has obviously never done, looked up places to get a Mr.Whippy and even found a small secluded area where he could play his guitar for you.

The worst part is how it made him feel. He genuinely liked you and it hurt him to think you didn’t feel the same when he thought you did. So what was his solution? Go out with his mates to a pub until 3 am to drink his feelings. Hobie was a bold drunk, bolder than he usually is. He’s also a sloppy drunk, tripping when he walks and slurring his speech like it’s all one word.

You’re peacefully sleeping in your bed with your spiderman eye mask cuddling with your Spider-Punk plushie. It’s not a random occurrence to hear Hobie stomping his boots late at night but it was different today. You heard his boot buckles dragging across the floor and a loud bang against your door. Not necessarily a knock, more of a body slumped against the wood.

“Love! You in there?!” You hear him yell.

You try your hardest to ignore him but as he keeps yelling and pounding against the wood you start to feel sorry for everyone else on your floor. You force yourself out of bed and towards the front door. As you reluctantly open it a drunken Hobie falls into your flat.

“Hobie get your arse up,” you roll your very tired eyes.

He surprisingly agrees and makes his way to your bed.

Great, you think

He tosses his guitar to your couch and gets into your bed like it’s his. Conveniently throwing the spider-punk plush off the bed. He cuddles up with your blanket and closes his eyes. You cannot let him fall asleep.

“Hobie! Hello? That is my bed. Get out!” You yell at him.

“Why’d you do it?” He whispers.

“What,” you ask, still annoyed.

“You stood me up. I asked you to come to my show and you didn’t. Why,” he asked less of a question and more of a statement.

You sigh, of course you knew that was tonight. In all honesty you don’t quite know why you didn’t go. You weren’t doing anything special and it probably would’ve been nice. But you were scared. Scared of what? You also didn’t know that, you just were.

“I… I don’t know,” you admit.

“Really hurt me, Love. I wanted to see you and take you out on a nice date,” he looked away from you.

Your heart shattered. You knew Hobie liked you but not to that extent. You thought he was just playing around with you and didn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really sorry, Hobie. We should go out some other time, okay? My treat,” you promise.

“Nah, don’t think i’ll have the time,” He says, clearly less sad than he was a few moments ago.

“Oh yeah? Busy with what? Trying to tear down the government from the inside?” You laugh.

“Of course not, that’s for the first saturday of every month. I’ll be busy being Spiderman,” he says, cuddling closer to your blanket.

You stop immediately. Your mind goes blank, the world around you stops. You’re suddenly much more awake than you have ever been. Hobie is… no you can’t even say it. The man you’ve hated ever since you had moved in was the person you loved more than anything else? That can’t be right, he’s having a laugh. That’s gotta be it.

“I don’t believe in comedy,” you remember him saying.

Fuck. He’s not joking, is he?

“What?” you manage to get out.

“I’ll be busy, being spiderman and all. Yknow who that is right? Don’t know if you noticed but he’s- i mean I’m kinda all over your room,” he lets out a drunk giggle.

He pulls out his mask from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to you.

“See?”

You grab it in disbelief. You run your hand over the spandex in awe. Spiderman is right in front of you, you realize.

Oh. My. God. SPIDERMAN IS RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.

You just can’t believe the man you’ve idolized for years was in your bed. YOUR BED.

Hobie takes the blanket off of him, lifting up his shirt to reveal his suit. Blue and fucking red material.

“I don’t believe in the labels though. It’s stupid,” He says in the most Hobie way possible.

“You’re a superhero,” you say, still a little shocked.

“No. No, don't say that. I'm not a hero, because calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologising, narcissistic autocrat,” He says. God even drunk he’s still a smart ass.

“So you still wanna go out?” He asks.

“What? I just found out you’re fucking Spiderman and that’s what you’re asking me? If I want to go out with you?” You respond.

“I mean what else is there to say? I already know you love me,” he nods to the spiderman memorabilia.

Even in this state he still leaves you speechless.

“Well- yeah I guess. We can go out,” you say slowly.

“Cool,” he nods.

He lifts up the blanket and scoots over, inviting you into your bed with him. You roll your eyes and get in with him. He wraps his arms around you and smiles.

“I knew you wanted to snog me from the start,” he laughs.

Hobie is still pretty infuriating, but that is slowly becoming one of your favorite things about him.

[luveline]

Hey my lovely, could i equest a blurb where reader seeks one of spencer's hugs and he's all soft and mushy about it!! I just think he'd give really warm hugs and want one so bad!

shy!reader + post!prison Spencer have a hug

Spencer understands why you might find him intimidating. He did go to prison for a few weeks, and even if the idea of his being a potential felon didn’t scare you, there’s nothing wrong with being nervous around the unknown. You’ve had a few more weeks to get to know the others on the team. He tries not to take it personally that you’re closer with some of them than you are him. 

Plus, you’re awfully shy. 

Spencer’s been trying to communicate that he’s an idiot. He was shy, once, and he tends to be shy about things now, too, even if he’s taken to hiding that. He hides a lot, these days. 

But things aren’t hopeless with you. You’re inarguably his best work friend now that Morgan’s not around, taking the desk next to his —through coincidence or insistence, he has no idea. 

“What flavour do you have today?” he asks. 

You show him your bag. The convenience store outside of work has the strangest sweets from all sorts of places. You’ve been bringing in a different bag each day, and you always share. “Today is apricot and peach ‘millions’,” you tell him, shaking the bright pink bag like a rattle. 

Inside, the millions bounce against each other like miniscule polystyrene balls but with a heavier weight. 

“Awesome!” he says, holding out his hand. “Please?” 

You rip the corner and tip a generous helping of candies into his palm, doing the same in your own hand. “Ready?” you ask. 

“Three, two, one.” 

You both tip your heads back at the same time. Apricot and peach are similar flavours, and Spencer can’t tell the difference when they’re both in play. He can also taste apple juice and the sharp citric acid flavour they put in every candy. 

He can’t tell if you like them. He quite enjoys it, will happily eat the leftovers if you’re not interested, but your attention isn’t on the candy when he looks up. You’re staring straight at him. 

“What?” he asks, perturbed. 

“Nothing, just. Had a rough morning. Thanks for trying the candy with me.” 

He frowns. “I’m sorry. Let me know if there’s something I can do to make you feel better. I can make you a cup of hot chocolate?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

Spencer’s sure that to an outsider, he and the team appear to travel to a hundred cities a month. In reality, cases aren’t as densely packed, especially with the government expanding their profiling teams, and the majority of Spencer’s day is spent answering emails and giving advice to agents, law enforcement, and his colleagues. He doesn’t see much of you (where you’re forced to work ViCAP calibration as newbies usually are, almost like a hazing) but he does take you that hot chocolate around lunch time. Just to make sure you have the option. 

It’s sometime past four PM when you appear again. 

“Hey,” he says, turning to you where you’re paused behind your desk chair, “you're finally done?” 

“Not yet. So many case files to transcribe, opinions to cross check, signatures and…” You wince. “It’s a lot. You already know.” 

“I don’t, actually. I only ever had to do ViCAP as punishment, and I was extremely well-behaved. For a while, anyway.” 

You hesitate with something heavy on the tip of your tongue. You’re like every profiler wherein your tells are self-identified and quelled, but you’re still so new, and Spencer’s an expert. You want to ask him for something, but you don’t think you’re allowed. If he presses the issue you’ll shut down, and if he offers you another cup of hot chocolate you’ll simply drink it without letting him in on the real secret. 

Spencer waits. 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say yes, just… You’re the nicest friend I have, and you always know what I need to hear. Um, I know you don’t like touching people and I wouldn’t ask you to if you don’t want to, but it’s been a really long time since someone hugged me, and…” Your voice gets quieter and quieter, until you’re whispering, and then fizzling out. 

“You want a hug?” he asks, surprised. 

“If that’s okay.” 

“I give really good hugs,” he warns, climbing from his chair immediately, arms opened, an unmissable invitation. “You’ll never get over it.” 

“Really?” 

He can’t believe you came to him specifically for a hug. He’s gonna lose his mind. Gentle, Spencer ushers you into his arms, head quick to duck down, his thumb on your shoulder. 

You could’ve asked anybody in the office for a hug. Penelope would have hugged your brains out. Emily, Unit Chief and secret sweetheart, would’ve taken you off of ViCAP and given you a loving pat on the back. But you didn’t ask Penelope or Emily, you asked him. 

“You don’t have to ask me first,” he says quietly. 

“You don’t like touching.” 

“That’s more to do with germs, and I’m not worried about yours,” he says. “Unless you’re about to tell me you have a headache.” 

“It’s like this pounding behind my eyes,” you say with a laugh. 

Spencer smiles, his mouth and nose to the side of your head. He gives you a good ten seconds of quiet, his palm warming your shoulder, before he murmurs, “Any better?” 

“You’re really warm,” you murmur back. 

Spencer resists the urge to squeeze you. “It's the oxytocin.”

“Or you’re just really, really warm.”

[tan1shere]

Bite It Lick it Spit It

Billie Eilish x female reader

A/n: I don't think I need to say anything here lovelies, enjoy !!

Summary: Billie is excited to show you this new song shes featured in, reciting her lyrics to you. Until she's recreating them on you.

Warnings: smut, mdni ! Spit ?? Eating out, strap usage, orgasm denial, squirting !! Think that's it <3

Masterlist ... extra ;)

"Babyyy."

You hear your girlfriend say, coming into the bedroom you both shared. She had her phone in hand, obviously about to show you something.

"Everything alright?" You ask setting your book down. It was currently 7 pm, she had been in the small studio downstairs. Working away on something. "More than alright. I want to show you what I have so far on this remix I'm doing." You smile at her as she sits beside you on the bed, excited to hear this. You always loved listening to the songs she'd make or was in. And you were so incredibly proud that this was going to be with another big star.

'Don’t have to guess the color of your underwear

Already know what you’ve got goin’ on down there'

She chants and you smile just enjoying listening to the lyrics.

'It’s that lacy black pair with the little bows'

That reminds you of a pair you own.

Wait...

'The ones I picked out for you in Tokyo'

Now she has your full attention. Sure you were listening to the lyrics beforehand, but now you're really listening. Her eyes were still on her phone, reading off the lyrics. Until her eyes met yours.

'I saw them when you sat down, they were peekin’ out'

Did she really write this about you? You had a pair of underwear exactly like the one she's talking about, you wore them alot actually. They were your favorite. Especially when she mentioned Tokyo. That was incredibly specific as that's where the pair was from. She had bought them for you as a gift when you traveled there for your birthday last year. Both yours and Billies eyes lock onto one another's. But she didn't stop there, keeping that eye contact alive.

'I'm gonna tell you right now, they're all I'm thinkin' about'

"True." She then whispers. Your brows furrow, feeling nervous at the insanity of this moment. Her eyes bore into your own, making you shift a little bit. Your eyes avert her lustful ones.

'I wanna try it, bite it, lick it, spit it. Pull it to the side and get all up in it'

You hadn't even realized she sat her phone down on her bedside table, and was inching closer to your body. "You wanna guess who that song is about." She speaks softly into your ear. You gulp, her voice delicate. Holding such filth at the same time. You don't answer for a second, trying to gain your composure. "Me....?" You question. She only smirks and let's out a small hum. Her body moves to hover over your own, instantly leaning down to kiss you. "I saw a photo of you on my phone from a year ago today. And that's what inspired me." She mumbles against the skin of your neck, as her kisses move all over the place. "Your crossed legs, in that skirt." You swallow thickly. Remembering that photo. You had your arms up in the air, sitting on a random beautiful fountain.

"That's why I mentioned how the straps were peaking out.. those baby pink bows." She bites down on your neck, making a gasp escape your lips. Your eyes shut in instinct as she continues on. "'Kiss it, bite it, can I fit it?'" The only thing you manage to get out was. "Fuck me."

She glady took that offer. Making her way down your body, getting to her destination. She pulls the pair to the side. "Wish it was the black ones." She trails off, slowly revealing your wet, sticky folds to her. Her eyes becoming drowsy, full of desire for you. She bit her lips slightly, grabbing the underwear by the top. And pulling them down, off your body, discarding them somewhere. Her favorite thing, on display for her. She had to admire for a little bit. But that just made you grow impatient. "Billie-" "shhh." She says, as her finger comes close to your puffy heat. She then quickly licks a small stripe up the middle, before she pulls back contemplating.

She spits directly onto your cunt, letting it slide down slightly. The big bit of saliva staying there for a second, before her face is directly infront of it. Her tongue sticks out and straight into your weeping, aching hole. Pushing the spit inside you. She pulls back to look at the mixture of wetness. And she did both. She managed to get you that wet. It was her spit now deep inside you. God she was proud at the thought. However she wasn't even done with penetrating your pussy. Her face is back in its original spot. Her lips make contact with your own, sending your head back into the pillows. Your hands eventually move to her silky hair, gripping as she speeds up her pace, her tongue entering you also.

It all felt amazing, when she does something unexpected. Her teeth sink into the lip of your pussy, biting and sucking all at once. It felt incredible. Why hadn't she done that sooner. "Bil.." You breathe, moaning on and off. "Feels so, good." You blab, still having your eyes shut. Feeling her lips move into her famous smirk, knowing that boosted her ego entirely. Your high was approaching and fast.

"Nooo." You then huff. Feeling her tongue move from you. Looking down at your fucked out body. Her smirk is ofcourse still visible at your little frustrated pout. "You're so annoying." You breathe, sinking into the sheets again.

"You won't be saying that in a second." Your head shot up again to look at her, but as soon as you do that a loud moan is being ripped out of you. How the hell did this woman put her strap on so quickly. She really wasn't kidding when she said 'in a second.' Impressive. A little hot in a way. Your mind turns into mush though, almost her whole length inside of you. "Had to get you worked open babe, yet you're still so tight." Another moan was to be heard, letting your eyes flutter close again, back instantly arching. Only thing visible in your brain are the lyrics to that song, and how she's recreating them all. "Guess I can fit it huh?" She then says, coming close to your face. "Speak." She orders you like a dog, when you don't respond.

"Y-yes.. feel so full." Her smirk returns to her face, picking up the speed. "Good. Just how it should." You let out another gasp again, feeling her thumb playing with your clit. This makes her chuckle, maliciously. She continues to fuck you relentlessly, beginning to let her hands roam over your skin, she pushes the baggy t-shirt you were wearing up, exposing your tits. They move in time with her thrusts. Her mind overflows with every disgusting but amazing fantasy. Your breath hitches as you feel cool metal on your breasts, looking to see her hands kneading them. How well they fit in her hands as she squished.

As her fingers move while doing so, you feel that same cold metal on your nipple making a shakey, content sigh leave you. It eventually turning into a moan as she squeezes again. She comes down to your face, your eyes were closed. "Look at me." She speaks, grabbing your jaw. You immediately open your eyes looking at her dark ones, which was always such a shock as they are so bright. Her face inches down towards your ear, she gives it a soft kiss before she's whispering. "Wanna make you squirt." Your eyes widen tremendously. If you weren't flustered before you really are now.

As you go to respond it was cut short, her thumb resumed on your clit, her thrusts are deeper, her ring covered fingers gripping your jaw. Her lips on your neck only adding to that, as she used the fuck out of you. You feel it coming, that tight knot. But you didn't have to say a word. She knew. She could feel it. It getting slightly harder for her at the way you're tightening, but that was a challenge she wanted to conquer. Obviously succeeding, she hits that gummy spot inside you, sending your mouth to fly open. "B-bil-" Yet another gasp was being pulled from you, it being loud in her ear as she continues to fuck the shit out of you.

Her pace never falters. Her thumb even speeding up as she sucks and bites your neck. You wanted to tell her you were close, as if she didn't already know. Your hands make their way to her arms, gripping as it's coming faster. "Fuck!" You screech out, you couldn't hold it any longer releasing within an instant, feeling her smirk into your neck. "And boom." She says into your ear, her voice husky. You hadn't even noticed it, but she actually did make you squirt. Your fucked out expression gives billie all she needs to know.

"Guess I'm just, that. good."

[eternalxvenus]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 1 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (angst version to my first birthday girl blurb) (title changed for series — previous title “birthday girl angst version”)

cw (for whole series): 18+, rafe x f!reader, mentions of drug use, angst, eventual smut, violence

wc: 0.6k

notes: honestly i’m thinking about making this particular blurb a series but i’m not sure though

You woke up on your birthday excited to get your day started. Your boyfriend Rafe told you the day before he would pick you up for brunch, and then you would spend the day doing whatever you wanted.

By the time you showered and were ready to go, your stomach was growling, prepared to have some delicious food. You checked your phone and saw the time read 10:45. Rafe said that he'd be here by 11:00.

30 minutes later, you hadn't heard anything from Rafe, so you decided to call him. Each of your calls went straight to voicemail. You were starting to get worried, so you decided to check social media and see if he may have posted anything. You clicked on Kelce's close friend's story and saw a party happening at his house. A few videos later, you saw one of Rafe doing coke off the table in front of him.

Your eyes start to water. He had promised you that he would stop doing drugs when you guys started dating. You knew it made him irritable and hard to be around. It also made him forgetful, which means he was probably high out of his mind somewhere and probably doesn't remember he promised to take you to brunch. Or the fact that it's your birthday.

You wipe the few stray tears off your cheek, careful not to ruin your makeup, before calling Sarah, inviting her and the pogues to have breakfast with you at your place. When you asked her about Rafe, she said she hadn't spoken to him and didn't know where he was.

-

The time was currently 10:22 pm, and you had just gotten home from your birthday dinner with your family. Rafe was supposed to be there too, but you had to lie and say he hadn't been feeling well. You could barely enjoy yourself. You still hadn't gotten so much as a text from him.

You slipped off your heels, but before you could make it up the stairs there was a ring at your doorbell. You opened the door to see Rafe standing there with flowers in hand.

"What do you want, Rafe?" You really didn't want to sit around and listen to his excuses.

"Baby, I'm sorry, really. Just please let me explain."

You scoffed but leaned against your doorframe, prompting him to keep going.

"Okay, so Kelce was throwing this party, and I wasn't going to go, but everyone kept messaging me saying I should at least swing by and everything since they hadn't seen me in a while. I went and it was supposed to be no more than 15 minutes, but things got out of hand..."

"Yeah Rafe, things got out of hand as in you stayed at the party and started doing fucking coke? Out of hand as in you got so high you didn't text me all day, on my birthday, while I'm worried sick about you?"

Rafe's eyes widened, obviously not expecting you to know about that. He outstretched his hand that was holding the flowers to you. "Baby I... I'm sorry. I can take you shopping to make up for-"

You smacked the flowers out of his hand and he flinched. Your voice was shaky as tears pooled in your eyes. "No Rafe! Money isn't going to fix this. Obviously, I'm not important enough for you to keep your promise. Getting high means more to you than being there for your girlfriend."

Before he could speak again, you slammed the door in his face and made your way upstairs even as he started to talk to you through the door before moving on to blowing up your phone. You blocked his number and went to bed, unsure of what was next for your relationship.

part 2

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

© All Rights Reserved. Do not repost, modify, or claim as yours.

[mavrintarou]

[2:53 PM] Kozume Kenma

My version of Kenma

Warning: hurt to comfort & makeup smut

.

Kozume Kenma may look like a reserved and introverted man in public, but little did anyone know about the hidden facets of his personality that only you were aware of.

Kenma had a kink for cockwarming.

Any available opportunity, he wanted to be buried deep inside your pussy. Whether it would be while you guys slept, after sex or bathing, or when he was working (aka streaming).

However, the two of you engaged in a heated discussion, resulting in a temporary separation that lasted for three days.

You clarified that you would stay at your sister’s place for the week, giving your boyfriend space. Unfortunately, you returned to your shared condo with Kenma to grab more clothes and other necessities without letting him know.

As you noticed the closed door to his office, a clear indication that he was in a live session, you discreetly made your way to the shared bedroom to retrieve your belongings and depart as silently as possible.

You rummaged through the drawer of your swimming suit and stuffed it into your bag. After ensuring you got everything you needed, you walked out but froze when you got near Kenma’s office.

His door was wide open, and you couldn’t walk past without him seeing you.

Unless he wasn’t in his office.

Taking a deep breath, you moved your feet; even if he saw you or vice versa, you two were still on a break. Kenma was great at ignoring the problem, only wishing to brush it off or pretend as if it had never happened.

You looked straight, refusing to peek at the corner of your eyes to see if he was in his office.

“You’re really going to just walk by and not say a word?”

You barely reached the doorway when you halted, and your brow raised, surprised to hear him confront you. You tilt your head back to look at him; he sits in his chair, leaning back and watching you with tired eyes.

“I forgot something and just came to grab it, just pretend I wasn’t here.” Because you’re great at doing that.

“Come here.”

You looked away and let out a sharp breath. “I need to go; my sister is waiting for me downstairs.”

“Come. Here. Y/n.” He punctuated each word in a tone she recognized as his dominant and assertive voice.

You instinctively stepped back and positioned yourself between the doorway, standing your ground. “What?” you asked, making an effort to maintain your composure despite the circumstances.

“Come. Here.” He emphasized each word, his tone firm yet gentle.

You set your bag down before walking over to him, and when you got close enough, he moved like lightning, tugging you over and between his legs. His face was buried in your stomach, and his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs. “Don’t go….”

“I’ll be back in a couple of days – “ He shook his head, tightening his grip. “Ken, we should use this time to ourselves to –“

“I’m sorry; I don’t want to be away from you anymore,” he pleaded, his gaze locked with yours, filled with desperation. “Please, don’t leave me.”

Cupping his face in your hands, your eyes scanned his entire countenance, taking note of the dark circles beneath his eyes and the bloodshot redness in his gaze. Concerned, you softly inquired, “when did you last sleep?”

Being a popular streamer, Kenma often went for extended periods without sleep, sometimes exceeding 24 hours.

“I couldn’t sleep without you.”

You couldn’t accuse him of lying knowing full well he needed you to sleep. You are his drug yet his peace and when it came to sleep, he truly needed you to sleep.

“Ken –“

“Don’t go, please…” he pleaded in a whimpering tone she had never heard of.

Letting out a deep sigh, you tenderly wrapped an arm around his shoulder and ran your fingers through his hair. “Okay, let me make a call and inform my sister,” you suggested, awaiting his response. However, he clung to you, not letting you go. “Ken, let go so I can get my phone,” you gently urged, hoping he would release his grip.

Shaking his head, his hand began searching for his phone on the desk and handed it to you. “Just use mine,” he muttered, offering a solution without letting you go.

.

You found it difficult to fall asleep because Kenma’s weight felt like an anchor, making you hesitant to move for fear of disturbing him once he drifted off to sleep. You were familiar with Kenma’s affectionate hold in bed, but the way he clung to you at that moment felt different. It seemed as though he was afraid that you would slip away once he entered a deep slumber. His weight on top of you, his head resting on your shoulder with his breath tickling your cheek and neck. He had one arm pillowing your head with the other wrapped around your waist and your legs entangled together.  

After assuring your sister you’re okay and will follow up with her, you force Kenma to turn off his computer and sleep.

He shook his head like an exhausted puppy, “only if you sleep with me.”

It’s been an hour, and you can still feel his grip on your shirt readjusting from time to time, letting you know he wasn’t in a deep slumber yet.

His fingers kept twitching and you finally exhaled and whispered, “just do it, it’s fine…”

You should have known when he stripped down to just his boxer briefs, that he was considerate enough to leave just that much of clothing on. Kenma always slept naked.

Kenma was sensitive, when he felt his privilege had been taken away from him, he needed reassurance upon receiving it again.  

He doesn’t hesitate to turn you on his side and swiftly, any lower garments you had on are gone and Kenma is behind you.

“Lift your leg for me,” he whispers huskily.

When you lift your leg, he slips his semi-hard cock into your hot and ready pussy. Your body misses him just as much as he misses you. Relaxing your leg you let out a breath, “now, sleep.”

He let out a shaky breath that sounded much like a low groan. “Okay,” he whispered, voice clearly satisfied.

You don’t feel him truly relaxed and asleep until his hand slips inside your shirt, skims against your tummy until his palm is against one of your tits, giving it a gentle squeeze. His even breath calms you at last and lulls you to sleep.

.

You wake up two hours later in the same position, Kenma is behind you and still inside you.

He was deeply asleep and you gently pry his hand away from your chest before slowly easing his cock out of you. It was no shock to you when you felt a gush of sticky fluid release and you quickly squeezed your thighs close. Kenma had no problem ejaculating in his sleep. You have woken up to him, thinking he was awake due to his hips moving only to discover after he’s cummed, he was thrusting in his sleep.

“Don’t go…”

Looking over your shoulder, Kenma was barely awake, only enough to sense you moving.

“Keep sleeping,” you whisper, pulling the comforters over his shoulder.

He locked his arms around your waist, pressing his face against your back. “No, don’t leave me.”

Frustratedly you snapped, “I’m not leaving – Christ… just…” you exhale, “just sleep, I’m just going to be in the living room.”

Incredibly stubborn, he shook his head, tightening his hold on you.

“Let me go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” you assured, tapping his hand that’s locked around your waist. You felt a huff of breath against your back before his grip loosened and you were free.

.

You wiped the residue smeared between your thighs and cleaned yourself before walking out. You nearly swore under your breath when you swung open the door and Kenma was leaning against the doorway, still naked.

“Done?”

You blinked, “uh – yeah…”

Without a word, he reached for your wrist and tugged you along back to his bed. “Get in, please.”

You followed his command and crawled into his bed again. He followed and spooned you from behind.

“I’m sorry.” Kenma must have felt your tensed body. “I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you, I am aware of my behavior and how it affects you and I will change. I’ll talk out our problems, stop ignoring them.” He turns you around so he can see your face and tilts your chin until you stare into his eyes. “Forgive me, please?”

You nodded, “I forgive you.” You lean to press a kiss to his lips. “There’s no next time.”

You’re pulled into his arms as he confirms, “yes, there’s no next time, I’ll make sure of it.” He leans back to smile at you before kissing you again.

You’re rolled onto your back and knew where it was going. Your legs widen to allow him in between your legs. His cock was already pressed and rubbing against your pussy. “Please,” you begged.

He slips inside you and Kenma keeps a steady pace. He leans over you, supporting his weight on his left elbow right, “I can’t live without you, Y/n. You are the air I breathe, my life…” His right hand pushes your shirt up to expose your tits and groped one mound, tweaking your perky nipple. “I don’t ever want to be without you again…”

Your hands are placed on his waist, urging him to thrust deeper into you. “Me too, Ken… I missed you… fuck – ah… more… harder, Ken…”

Slow yet deep thrusts have you seeing stars. “Need you… need you…”

His chest is pressed against yours as he grunts into your ear. “Me too… always…”

The room is filled with skin slapping skin and the creaking of his bed.

You moan his name, belly tightening and your pussy fluttering around his cock. Kenma’s cock jerks inside you before following with ejaculation. You feel each spurt leaving his cock, shooting at your womb.

Kenma shifts you, rolling you both around while still intimately connected. You lie above him and straddle his body. “This is great makeup sex.”

Running a hand through his hair, he smiles, “agree. Again?”

. . .

E/n: I watched the Garbage Dump movie a few weeks ago and loved it!

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

[d0youc0py]

heyy - 🍄

Can you write something with 141 reacting to the reader going to sleep alone in another room? like just the reader wanting to be alone or they fought. the way you prefer

Hurt/comfort ♥️ your writing is my favorite

Hi! 🍄Thank you so much! I absolutely loved this prompt!

He thought you were being dramatic. Too sensitive. And he made sure to let you know.

“It was just a joke, sweetheart. Nothing more. I’m a light sleeper, you know that.” His voice was careful, yet firm.

Even though he had assured you he hadn’t meant anything by it, here you were, staring at the ceiling as pm turned into am. He had his arm snug around you, tucking you under his chin. Normally this position had you out like a light, but now you were just focusing on trying not to breath too hard.

Earlier that day the two of you were relaxing on the couch when you commented on his yawn.

“You’ve been yawning a lot, Si. Should put you to bed early.” You snickered.

“Your fault.” He yawned again. “Movin around every five second.” His tone was teasing. His fingers even brushed up and down your foot that was resting in his lap. Despite this, your heart dropped. Were you really that uncomfortable to share a bed with?

Laying in bed was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Your side ached from you spending too much time on it. Your nose hadn’t stopped itching and it took everything in your power not to scratch it every five seconds. Even your quieted breathing felt like it was shaking the bed. The guest room was sounding more and more inviting. You’d be able to flip over whenever you wanted. Scratch that nose of yours, all without having to worry about stirring the sleeping giant behind you.

You carefully gripped his arm and squirmed your way out from under it. He woke up halfway, holding his arm up for you.

“Sorry, Si.” You whispered, guilt already tugging at you.

“Don’t even think about it.” He assured in a groan. He watched with curious eyes as you disappeared down the hall, instead of going to the bathroom like he assumed you were. You must be getting water.

One minuted turned into three, then three turned into five. He huffed, rubbing a hand over his face, your side of the bed already growing uncomfortably cold. His socked feet sunk into the plush carpet as he made his way down the hall. The kitchen light wasn’t on, but the guest bedroom that was normally shut was wide open. Even in the darkness he could make out the lump of your body- already asleep.

The realization was instant. And it hurt.

“Sweetheart.” He knocked at the open door. He didn’t feel too bad about waking you up. He needed to. You gasped awake, your head springing up from the pillows. It seemed even your absence kept him awake. “What do I have to say for you to get out of that head of yours?” He hummed, plopping down next to you. He leaned over you, pressing a slow kiss against your forehead.

“I just feel bad knowing I’m constantly waking you up.” You murmured, rubbing at your eyes.

“Sweetheart, waking up to you isn’t something to feel bad about. It’s nice, being woken up just because someone wants to be closer to you. Now we are going to knock it off with all this ‘afraid to wake me up shit’ and go back to our bed, you hear me?”

You did hear him.

“John, enough! I’m tired of arguing with you, I’m ready to go to bed.” You growled. He followed closely behind you towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his white dress shirt.

“Yeah, let’s just go to bed and forget all of this happened.” He mumbled from behind you. You began tugging off your clothes, throwing a glare his way.

“Don’t do that.” You chided, throwing you clothes on top of his in the hamper.

“Do what?” He gruffed back.

“Mumble things under your breath.” You explained. He tsked and rolled his eyes at you. The action caused another flare to ignite in your stomach. He reached into his dresser and pulled out a nightshirt, tugging it over his head. He reached back in and grabbed one for you, holding it out to you expectantly. It was your favorite shirt of his to wear.

“I’m not wearing that.” You spat, turning away from him. You marched to your shared bed and grabbed your pillow, beginning to make your way down the hallway.

“Where are you going?” He stopped you. His large frame taking up the whole doorway.

“John”-

“Love.” His voice was calm and you hated it. He should be more upset. Upset that you were upset with him. “Don’t go”-

“Why should I liste”-

“You need to stay in bed with me. That’s where you belong.” He said it as though it was a fact. “I know you’re not too happy with me right now, but you aren’t sleepin away from me tonight, honey. Now let’s go brush our teeth.”

*this is so dramatic*

Johnny had fucked up. He admitted it too. Yet it seemed no matter how many apologies flowed from him- you were determined to put a rift between the two of you. At least that’s how he saw it.

You yawned next to him on the couch, your hand brushing some hair out of your eyes.

“Gettin sleepy?” He hummed. You smiled softly, nodding your head.

“Should probably head to bed.” You yawned, stretching as you stood.

“You remember where it is?” It was a snotty comment. Distasteful. You had been sleeping in the guest bedroom for the past week. He was able to choke down his hatred for it the first few days, but after you referred to it as “your room” all grace had been lost.

“You just can’t help yourself can you?” You growled, not bothering to wait for an answer.

“Just don’t understand why you’re so hell bent on punishing me.” He shouted after you. You stopped, turning on your heels.

“Punishing you?” You snarled. “The only one getting punished in this situation is me John. I know to you I’m being dramatic but I really don’t know how I can trust you after all those shitty things you said to me.”

His chest twisted and his hand scratched at his shirt.

“I don’t know what else to do, sweetheart.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft and it made you feel worse than you already did. “I’ve apologized in more ways than one and I’m still not getting through to you. I’m not saying I’m giving up, I just miss you. I know lashing out at you isn’t the answer.” He sighed rubbing at his face. He was exhausted- that was evident just by looking at him. You were his safe place- his favorite person in the whole world and he hurt you. “I made a mistake saying nasty shite to you, but I hope you remember everything before that. We’ve been together for years and I hoped I’ve showed you just how much I love you in that time.”

By the end of his speech tears were rolling down your cheeks.

“Dammit, Mac.” You huffed. You moved forward quickly, practically flinging yourself at him. He reciprocated immediately, wrapping his arms tight around you with no intention to let you go. He wouldn’t let go till you forgave him.

You woke up to two arms wrapping around you.

“Ky.” You grumbled sleepily.

“You took so much medicine, I didn’t think you’d wake up.” He whispered back. You were sick and the last thing you wanted to do was get Kyle sick. He rubbed his hands over your stomach, the action already lulling you back to sleep.

“I just don’t want to make you sick.” You murmured. He ‘tsked’ at you, pulling you even closer to his warm body. You wished it was easier to stay away from him. He was the perfect temperature for your chilled body and he smelled like vanilla and coffee.

“I’d wear it like a badge of honor.” He smiled against you. You rolled your eyes.

“You just always find a way to make everything romantic don’t you.”

“Well I had to get you to fall for me one way.”

“Are you going to be this cheeky when you get sick?” You hummed.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but challenge accepted.”

[f1angelz]

Hey there , saw your requests open soo

Carlos x fem reader

The reader is pretty closed off, calm or unemotional person, works in academia. Somehow her and Carlos are dating and it hasn't been that long. Carlos wants to know more of her and like form an emotional bond but the reader is pretty nonchalant. But he notices that she's much more reactive when they're having sex or getting yk. And he uses that to his advantage to get her to say I love you back (she loves him but never says that)

You can take your time. No worries (•‿•)

𝒄𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒆? — carlos sainz x f!reader

summary: everyone’s shocked how y/n is carlos sainz’s girlfriend. her personality didn’t really show it— calm and nonchalant, never really the type to open up even towards carlos. will he be able to change that?

content warnings: smut (18+) mdni, cunnilingus, bathroom sex (but there’s no penetration so idk if that’s still considered), not proofread again 😭 please excuse errors you might encounter.

this fic contains super basic spanish words!

── .✦

“No, are you serious?”

“Miss Y/L/N? Dating THE Carlos Sainz?”

“I know, why hasn’t she told us? If I were her, I’d be bragging about it everyday.”

“Maybe that’s why she had someone substitute for her Friday class, she was at the race last week.”

Said the students who gossiped over their TA, Y/N.

Recently, a picture of Carlos and Y/N in the Ferrari garage was released all over social media. It went viral, the post reaching almost a million likes.

Y/N obviously wasn’t the type to post content of her boyfriend. She was rather reserved, her social medias were private and little to no posts— she didn’t even have a TikTok account.

Even at the start of their relationship, Y/N didn’t know Carlos was an F1 driver. She only found out when he invited her to a race.

The sound of Y/N’s heels clicking against the marble tiles echoed throughout the hallway, making her way towards the lecture hall. She pushed the laminated wood door open and the students immediately fell silent, watching her as she made her way towards the desk.

“Mr. Sanders won’t be able to make it today, so he won’t be able to deliver a lecture.” Y/N said while she brought out her laptop and placed it on the desk. After the students heard the news, they whispered a small ‘yes’.

“However, he has instructed me to create a quiz on last week’s lesson.”

The students groaned.

Y/N opened her laptop, “The quiz can now be accessed, you have 1 hour to answer. Goodluck.”

The students got to work and Y/N as well, answering several emails and creating lesson plans for the next semester.

Work never really seemed to end for her, she was always glued to her laptop— and when Carlos wanted to spend time with her, it would take a long persuading to do so.

1 hour quickly passed by and Y/N stood up, “Please submit your quizzes. Late submissions 2 minutes after will incur deductions. Once you have finished, you may leave the lecture hall.”

Some students who were already finished left as instructed while others were still fixing their things.

Just as Y/N was about to fix her things too, her phone vibrated and a notification appeared.

Carlos: Mi preciosa, what time do you get off work?

She opened her phone and replied.

Y/N: Now, actually. Why? My 11 to 3 pm class got cancelled.

Carlos: I was wondering if we could grab lunch? I’ll fetch you from work.

“Miss Y/L/N?” A voice interrupted, Y/N looked up from her phone and saw a group of students surrounding her.

“We’d like to ask what’s the passing score? One of them asked.

“Passing is 25.”

All of them let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, Miss. See you next week!” They replied and slowly walked away “We hope to see you in the race next week.” One joked, causing their elbow to be nudged.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed upon hearing the statement, causing her to stand up. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, well you’re all over social media right now, Miss. We know you’re dating Carlos Sainz.”

“Yeah, why haven’t you said anything? It’s something to brag about.”

Y/N inhaled deeply, “Yes, I’m dating Carlos Sainz. Why does that matter? It isn’t my responsibility to announce my relationship status. Now, please leave the lecture hall.”

The students were stunned and they apologized. They left the hall, leaving her all alone.

Y/N huffed and grabbed her things, closed the lights and left the hall.

She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and messaged Carlos, telling him that she was already off work and already walking towards the exit.

Carlos was already parked outside of the University. Among all the other cars parked there, Y/N knew which one was her boyfriend’s car. She walked towards his car and knocked on the passenger’s door, Carlos opened it and greeted her with a warm smile.

Y/N smiled back and sat in the passenger’s seat, closing the door.

“How was work, amor?” Carlos asked as he started leaving the parking lot.

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“I guess?” He questioned.

“My students found out that we’re dating.” Y/N sighed and fixed her hair on the mirror.

“How’d they find out?”

“I don’t know, I told them off and I left the lecture hall immediately.”

Carlos glanced over to her, “Amor, what about it if they found out we’re dating? You’re smart, beautiful, and definitely more than what I deserve. What’s the worry?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged off Carlos’ question.

Their lunch ended on a good note and went home immediately after, at Y/N’s apartment.

Y/N tapped her keycard against the door lock, pushing it open. She took off her heels and placed it on the shoe rack behind the door, Carlos’ actions following hers. The cold beige colored marble tiles made contact with feet, her thin socks barely giving her any warmth.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Y/N announced, making her way towards the bedroom and Carlos hummed in response.

He always wondered why she wasn’t as open towards him. Sure, she’s shared some things about her past, and her life in general, but she never really shared anything regarding her emotions.

Although she’s somewhat affectionate, it’s still a shock to her how she really just couldn’t say the three words that meant the most— I love you.

The sound of metal clinking on the ceramic jewelry plate resonated throughout the bedroom, Y/N taking off her accessories before she showered.

“You’re so beautiful, you know?” Carlos leaned against the bathroom’s doorway, watching Y/N as she unbuttoned her blue silk button down top. She looked towards his direction, flashing him a small smile.

As she was about to unbutton the last one, Carlos wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, closing the gap between them. His hands wandered, while he placed soft kisses on Y/N’s neck.

“Carlos..” Her words fell, lost in his kisses. “— what are you doing..” She let out a soft moan.

“Te gusta, Mi amor?” Carlos said in between kisses, slowing making them aggressive.

“Si…” Was all Y/N managed to let out.

It was like Carlos turned on a switch in her brain, he never saw her like this. Submissive, melting even at the slightest touch.

Out of desperation, Y/N guided his hand towards her right breast, pushing her bra. Carlos played with her nipple, tugging and pulling on it. Y/N looked at herself in the mirror in front of her, desperate and needy for her lover’s touch.

She finally removed her top, only leaving her in her bra and panties, her slacks gone even before Carlos entered.

“Hermosa.” Carlos said under his breath, looking at Y/N’s figure on the mirror. She turned around and faced him, pulling him in for a deep, passionate kiss. “May I take this off?” Carlos asked in between kisses and tugged on her bra strap, she hummed in response. With one swift movement, her bra fell loose, letting it drop on the floor.

Carlos pulled away and unbuttoned his linen polo, tossing it somewhere. Y/N couldn’t believe what was in front of her— it was her first time seeing Carlos topless. She placed a hand on his chest and he watched, her hand slowly going down towards his crotch.

Before she could unbuckle his belt, Carlos inched towards her, causing her to lean against the sink.

“Sit on the counter for me, yeah?” And she obliged, her feet hanging off the counter.

Y/N’s hands wandered along his chest and arms, desperate for his next move. Carlos brought his hand towards her left breast, kneading it as his mouth latched onto her right nipple. She felt herself getting wet, her core beginning to feel a familiar tingle.

Carlos pulled away for a moment, “Is this okay?” She nodded, her free hand making its way towards her core, ready to touch herself. But Carlos was quick to stop her, “Ah ah, no. Let me.”

“Por favor, Carlos.” Y/N begged, growing impatient.

Carlos laughed, “Since when were you so impatient, amor?” He took off her panties and tossed them aside, revealing her wet core.

Y/N spread her pussy lips apart, her clit exposed and covered with her wetness. Carlos went on his knees and placed kisses on her inner thigh, inching closer towards her pussy. Y/N grabbed his hair, desperately wanting to be touched.

He placed his thumb on the entrance of her pussy, spreading her wetness around. Y/N’s breath hitched, “Fuck, Carlos.” He licked her clit gently, his thumb still toying with her entrance.

“You love this, no?” Carlos taunted, his licks now turned into sucking which made her crazier.

“So— so much, f-fuck! More!” Y/N moaned out, her grip on Carlos’ dark brown locks tightening.

Carlos picked up the pace, her sounds of pleasure growing louder and louder each time his tongue grazed over her clit.

Y/N brought her hand towards her breast, pinching and twisting her nipple to stimulate herself.

Carlos couldn’t believe the sight before him. Her chest heaving up and down, breaths shaky from the work his tongue was doing on her pussy.

He felt that Y/N was cumming soon, her wetness growing even more. “Are you close, amor?” Y/N nodded like her life depended on it, “Si, amor— fuck! I’m so close!” She struggled to say, her orgasm nearing.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes, please— please! I want to cum!”

“Tell me that you love me, and I’ll let you cum.�� Carlos stopped sucking on her pussy and rubbed her clit with his thumb instead, in a painfully slow motion.

“W-what?” She breathed out, unsure of what he said.

“Tell me you love me.” Carlos stood up and pulled her closer, his middle and ring finger rubbing her clit as he picked up the pace.

Y/N jaw remained open, unable to comprehend what Carlos said.

“Cat got your tongue, amor?” He smirked and rubbed even faster, the sound of her wetness spreading around her skin.

“A-ah! I love you— fuck! I love you, C-carlos!” She screamed as her orgasm came over her, her legs tightened on his hips. Carlos groaned, giving her wet pussy a slap before slightly pulling away.

Y/N processed what happened, she actually said I love you.

How did that happen?

Still recovering from her orgasm, she was panting heavily. Carlos took a good look at the sight in front of him, satisfied with what he did.

“If it takes an orgasm for you to say those words,” Carlos panted, running his hand through his hair. “Then I’d give you an orgasm everyday.”

Y/N let out a laugh, “I never really said I love you because I thought it was too early.”

Or maybe because she wasn’t used to it.

“Amor, I’ve always wanted to hear those words come out of your mouth ever since we’ve started dating.” Carlos cupped her cheek, looking into her eyes. “Por favor, mi amor. Please say I love you more often.”

“But that means I wouldn’t be able to get orgasms anymore.” She joked, Carlos laughed.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum anytime you want.” He placed a kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, Carlos.”

“I love you too, mi preciosa.”

── .✦

a/n: this was a experience to write! i haven’t written smut in a while 😭

[cameronluvr]

BABY DADDY — exbf!dad!rafe x mom!reader

summary: you have a baby with your ex, rafe, but when you arrive early to pick her up from his place, you discover drugs on the table…

warnings: toxic!rafe, arguing, mentions of cocaine, rafe being manipulative and a total asshole, cussing, angst, lmk if i missed anymore!

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

your daughter is the most perfect little girl you could’ve asked for. she’s sweet, funny, sassy, and so beautiful. the older she got, the more she began to look like rafe. she has his bright blue eyes, his dirty blonde hair, the same shaped eyes and nose… she was his twin. and you were unsure whether or not you liked it so much. you love your daughter more than anything in the world, but gosh, you wish you didn’t see your ex in her every time you look at her.

rafe had her over the weekend, so when sunday evening approached, you left to pick her up. upon arriving at his place, you knock on the door and wait for it to open, but suspiciously, nobody answers. you frown, looking down at your phone to realise it was an hour earlier than you’d usually come to pick the baby up.

you knock again, only this time hearing footsteps rushing to the door. it swings open, and rafe greets you with a smile. “hey,” he moves out of the way, motioning for you to come inside.

“hi,” you walk inside, looking around. “where is she?”

“oh, she’s in bed.” he tells you, scratching his head. “already? she isn’t usually tired at this time” your brows furrow in confusion, it was only 6 PM. “yeah, well, she wanted to go to bed” rafe shrugs. you ignore him, walking to his bedroom to grab your daughter.

slowly opening the door, you see your baby laying awake in her crib, making you grin and walk over to her. “hi, baby girl” you softly say, reaching down to pick her up. she raises her arms, making grabby hands at you. you giggle as you pick her up, holding her on your side.

“mommy missed you so much,” you plant kisses on her cheek, making her laugh. rafe is stood by the door at this point, watching you both. you turn around and notice him, “did you have fun with daddy, hm?” you ask her, gently bouncing her up and down on your hip.

“yeah we did. we went to the park, and the beach, and we went to see your grandpa and aunt’s, didn’t we, baby?” rafe says, walking over to you both to give his daughter a kiss on the head. he loves her so much, you can see that. “ooh, that sounds fun” you giggle, looking at your daughter with a grin on your face.

“uh huh, we had the most fun” rafe smiles, tickling his daughter in your arms. hearing her adorable laugh made you both giggle in adoration.

“right, girl, we gotta’ go.” you tell your baby as if she can understand what you’re saying. you walk out of the room with her in your arms as rafe follows behind. you start to gather her things before noticing something in the living room.

on the table lies a fresh line of cocaine, with the bag it came from next to it. “is that?…” you ask, carefully setting your daughter down on the floor to let her play for a minute. rafe stops what he’s doing to look at what you’re looking at, both of your faces dropping.

“are you serious?!” you raise your voice at him, but not loud enough to scare or startle the baby. “what?” he asks so stupidly. “wh— what?!” your eyebrows raise and eyes widen in anger. “your one year old fucking daughter is in the next room and… wait, is that why you put her to bed?” you ask, connecting the dots.

he put her to bed early so he could feed to his drug habit.

“relax, she’s fine, isn’t she?” he asks, frowning as if you’re overreacting. “she’s fine? yeah, sure, that makes it all okay, rafe!!” you respond with pure sarcasm and rage. the two of you start to argue and bicker back and forth as your baby takes no notice. she’s too young to understand, and instead ignores you both to play with her toys.

“what if you got up to do something and she went over there, rafe?!” you yell, but again, not too loudly. “well she didn’t!” he argues back. “well what if she did, huh?!” you’ve never been this angry before, your face just inches away from his.

“that’s why she’s in my roo—”

“that’s why?! so she wasn’t even tired, you just put her to bed so you could ignore her while you sniff your fucking lines?!” you place your hands on your forehead out of stress.

“i wasn’t ignoring her!” rafe yells back.

“do you do this every weekend? is this why you took so long to answer the door?!” you ask him. “no, jesus, y/n! chill the fuck out” you stress him out now, watching as he runs his hand through his hair.

“chill out? you want me to chill out, after doing that shit around our daughter?!” you squint in anger at his stupidity. how could he be so selfish? to you and your daughter.

“i’m not doing it around her! i’m doing it while she’s in the next room, no big deal. i’m not hurting anyone” he argues, defending himself like a cocaine addiction is normal.

“oh, that’s fine then. it’s no big deal, you’re right. come on, y/d/n, we’re leaving.” you sarcastically roll your eyes before turning around to pick your daughter up from the ground.

“don’t think for a second that you’re seeing her next week, you can fuck off.” you face rafe for a moment before grabbing the baby’s bag with your other hand, and walking over to the front door.

“y/n,” rafe says, quickly following you to the door. “what?!” you snap, making your baby jump in your arms. “don’t be like that, i’m sorry!” rafe pleads, begging you not to keep his daughter away from him. he may love her, but boy is he stupid.

“rafe, this is the type of shit you could go to prison for, and get her taken away from us! is that what you want?!” you shout at him, not noticing as your baby begins to cry.

she ignored the fight when she was sat on the floor, but now she’s face to face with you both, witnessing the argument firsthand, which scared her.

“oh, baby,” you quickly divert your attention to her after hearing her cry, attempting to comfort her. “see what you did? come here” rafe blames you, taking his baby from your arms before you could protest.

“me?!” you ask him, the audacity. “yes, you!” rafe says, rocking the baby back and forth in his arms to calm her down, shushing her. “give her back to me, rafe” you demand, holding your arms out.

“no, you just made her cry.” he shakes his head, moving your daughter away from you as tears roll down her cheeks. “it was your fault!” you say to him, getting frustrated now.

“yeah, it’s always my fault. you want her to be raised around this? around her mom constantly yelling and being fucking crazy?” he asks as if you’re the problem.

“i— oh my god” you shake your head. “rafe if you don’t give her back to me, i swear to god…” you clench your fists. “what? you gonna hit me? with her in my arms? you could go to prison for that, too, you know” he tuts, shaking his head at you. he is the master manipulator in your life, you don’t know how you ever had a kid with him.

you love your daughter to death, but sometimes you just wish she had a different father.

“oh, fuck you, rafe.” you look at him with fiery eyes, almost as if you could murder him right now. “see how your mommy talks to me, baby?” he diverts his attention to the little girl in his arms, making you roll your eyes.

“your mommy can be real crazy, huh?” he says, only this time looking at you while he says it, which ticked you off the edge. “don’t talk to me about crazy, you fucking psycho.” you raise your voice at him, reaching for your daughter, but he moves her away again.

“rafe! let me take her home!” you yell. “this is her home, too” he shrugs, not yelling as he gently shakes her in his arms, trying to prove that you are the problem, not her daddy. “so you’re just not gonna give her back to me, is that it?” you ask, dropping your arms and giving up trying to get your baby back.

“that’s right. you can leave, she’s staying with me.” he nods. “why? so you can lock her away in the bedroom again? while you snort your fucking life away?” you still argue.

“believe whatever you wanna’ believe, but i am not giving her back to you when you just scared her” rafe shakes his head, keeping your daughter away from you which angered you deeply.

“it was your fault!!!” you say again, like you said before, but he never listens. “yeah, yeah” he rolls his eyes, turning to walk away from you. “where are you going?!” you raise your voice.

“we are going away from you so you can calm your fuckin’ psycho ass down. makin’ a baby cry like that, what’s wrong with you?” he says, still walking away with the baby.

there’s no winning with rafe. you get the blame for acting crazy, starting fights and trying to protect your daughter. you just dread to think what he will tell her when she gets older.

“you know what? i’m done. i’m leaving. i’ll be back for MY baby, asshole.” you shout, opening the front door and slamming it as you walk out. rafe always manipulated you, always got his way with you… you should’ve considered that before pushing his baby out a year ago.

this is SHORT and i really don’t know if i like it or not… hopefully you guys liked it! lmk what yall think in the comments. thank you so much for all the support, i LOVE you guys. <333

@cameronluvr