#not a smidge of anything you’re expecting

[ohburrryoureabsolutelyridiculous]

Nobody asked for it, but I’m going to also jump in & just say that I don’t care about Joseph Quinn & Doja Cat being whatever they are.

Their being together, not together, friends, friends with bennies, is not going to affect my life negatively or positively in any way shape or form, & it shouldn’t affect yours either.

Being disappointed is one thing, but some of the most disparaging things have been said about Joseph in the past 24 hours from his supposed fans. It’s very disheartening, disappointing & honestly disrespectful how quickly some flipped on him when you swear y’all love him so much.

If you want to stop being a fan, that’s fine, but you don’t have to disparage his name on your way out the door for him being a human being & trying to live his life & connect with other human beings. It’s nobodies business who he chooses to spend his time with or why.

He doesn’t owe anyone anything. Just because you watch his shows and movies or pay to meet him at a con doesn’t mean he owes anyone anything.

You have his gratitude. You have him agreeing to more projects that you can possibly enjoy, that’s enough.

You don’t know him. You don’t know what he thinks or feels. What you see from interviews & cons is what he wants you to see. How you interpret that is entirely YOUR take on things but when it comes down to it, you don’t know him.

Let him make mistakes. Let him live HIS life.

Life is too short & there’s already so much negativity in this world outside the four corners of our cellphones & laptops.

Literally none of this matters or changes anything.

In conclusion I leave you with a few words I think need to be remembered & should sound a bit familiar: “the more we respect each other, we can cultivate a kinder, more inclusive collaborative environment. For everyone. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

[hungharrington]

i feel it coming, babe

technically the sequel to a little less conversation this is yet another piece for girlies (gn) with bad sex experiences <3 remember sometimes it takes more than once to get it right honeys :D 12k words, fem!reader, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

Okay so, you’ll admit, you might be beginning to get it. 

A smidge. A pinch. 

It’s just— well, how are you not supposed to understand it? How can you not get the thrill and fervour over sex when it’s with Steve and he looks like that. All golden tan skin and hazel eyes that look at you like he might eat you whole and— and he treats you like… 

Like there was never anything wrong with you.

Even after that balmy afternoon spent in his sheets, with his mouth between your thighs, pulling noises out of you that you’d never even heard before, he’s been so perfectly so. Not pushy, yet still that lingering hunger you can see simmering beneath his skin, hidden in the flex of his fingers. 

Part of you almost worries, a little niggle burrowed in the back of your mind, that it was all a fluke.

That nothing had really changed all that much between you— that the next time things start getting heated, the chemistry won’t be there. Or it’ll be weird and off, or you will be, and really, you were probably lucky to have that first time with Steve so good but you can’t expect that again. 

But then… there is one difference at least, to combat all your swarming thoughts a fluke. The kisses. 

When you think of Steve Harrington and his playboy past, you can’t say, of the words tossed around in the high school corridor, that clingy is something that comes to mind. Not that he had been described as anything other than charming… but you don’t mind pleasant surprise of coming to learn this about Steve. 

It means kisses all the time. 

On your hands, scattered across your knuckles, when he’s dropping you home from a date. Kisses pressed to your hair and forehead, when he’s scooching past you, when he’s saying hello and his hands are busy, when you sit between his legs on the sofa. 

He kisses your shoulders, up along the curve of your neck just to see if it’ll still make you laugh a bit when he finds that ticklish spot beneath your ear. Adores sweeping back your hair to plant a kiss against your skin with the sweetest little ‘mwah!’ so quiet you don’t think you’re meant to hear it. 

And your lips… you don’t think they’ve ever been so kiss-bitten in your life.

One night with Steve can leave them blooming with colour, all the blood beneath them rushing with pleasure as he kisses your mouth soft — sometimes hard, sometimes sweet, always maddeningly. 

He greets you with a kiss always, one hand curled gently around your chin to tilt it up perfectly. And always after, a grin spreads across his face, brown eyes crinkling and pink lips barely restrained his joy. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” He’ll always says, or some variation.

Which, yeah, that’s new too. Sweetheart. You haven’t quite figured out how to not melt to a gloopy gooey mess when he says it just yet. It’s a damn good thing that your boyfriend is a gentleman and he politely doesn’t comment when you fluster, only gets the smallest hint of a smirk. 

For all your past worries about not kissing him for fear of leading him on, you hadn’t realise quite how much you were depriving yourself of affection. Steve’s certainly turning you greedy— and he’s all too happy to sate your appetite for it. 

Today, it’s drizzly. The colour of the sky is a bright ashen grey, enough to warrant a headache and inspire a day inside. In the distance, you can see the thunder clouds rolling in and bringing a blanket of shadow with them. 

They reach overhead much quicker than you’re expecting and you’re barely a block out from Steve's house before the rain starts coming down. 

Try as you might, raincoat tucked tight around you, you’re still a bit drenched by the time you make it to Steve’s doorstep. One freezing finger presses the door bell. A chime sounds inside. 

You rub your hands together to try warm them as you wait, cringing at the whisk of wind that twirls your hair up and about. Your hands shoot up and you nervously flatten the wild strands back down— right as Steve opens the door.

He’s got a towel around his neck, one hand scrubbing it into his wet hair. Judging from his ruffled t-shirt — put on in a rush and exposing his tummy — he’s just got out the shower. He looks surprised but happy to see you.

“Sweetheart, hi-hoooooly shit,” He sticks his head out the door, eyes wide as he takes in the weather. His hair flicks as he turns back to you. “Did you walk the whole way from your house? In the rain?” 

Your shoulders form a meek shrug. Before you can speak, his hands are on your shoulders, tugging you inside, across the doorway. He kicks it shut behind you. 

“Christ, honey, what’d you do that for?” His hands fret a little bit, rubbing at your shoulders. He gently picks a piece of hair that’s stuck to your cheek, placing it behind your ear. 

“I mean,” You start, a little confused. Your hands tighten on your overnight bag, wringing the handle tightly. He knew you were coming over, right? “I thought we— on the phone, we made a plan?” 

Steve breathes a soft laugh. “Yeah, we’ve got plans. But I would’ve come got you instead of making you walk through the rain. C’mon, what  kind of boyfriend do you think I am?” 

His use of the word boyfriend still makes you glow. You smile, nope, you grin all cheesy — and it doesn’t help at all when Steve’s hands trail down your jacket to hold your own. He wiggles the handles of your bag out from your frozen fingers and drops it behind him gently. His hands dart back to cover yours.

“Dear god, I think you’re about two minutes from losing a finger.” His eyebrows have scrunched together in worry. He brings your hands up to his face, cupped in his own, and blows hot air on them. It tickles but you can’t stop smiling. 

He pulls them back, rubbing his thumbs over your icy fingers and peers down at them. Your heart coos at his concern. 

“What’s the verdict doctor?” You jest, making your voice all breathy and dramatic. “Am I gonna make it?” 

Steve frowns harder at your hands, his face serious when he tilts it back up to face you. “I’m afraid we’re gonna have to amputate.” 

You gasp dramatically. 

Steve grins. He runs over your hands once more, one of his fingers creeping up your wrist, trying to find a ticklish spot. You squeal a little, trying to pull back but he holds your hands firm in his own. He continues his serious voice. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but it’s your whole arm. We’re gonna have to chop it right off.” 

His fingers are half way up your sleeve, making it bunch up and you’re laughing so much it’s warming you up much faster than him blowing on your hands. You push his hand away playfully and Steve relents, putting his hands up in surrender. 

“Okay, okay, you got me.” He grins. “I’m not a real doctor.”

You laugh again, reaching up to tuck back your hair that’s fallen forward in your squirming. “Uh huh, a real doofus is what you are.” 

Steve rolls his eyes endearingly, his hands reaching out to snag your waist this time. He tugs you closer. Your feet stumble and when you press against his chest, you’re delighted to find he’s very, very warm. You're definitely soaking his shirt a bit with your coat but if Steve cares, he doesn't say.

“Just realised I didn’t properly say hello,” He murmurs, a little quieter than before. 

And when one of his hands moves up and curls beneath your jaw, holding your chin gently, you know what’s coming. If you weren’t already holding your breath in anticipation, he probably would’ve stolen it with his kiss.

His plush lips are soft and with a loving little hum, he kisses you.

All the lights around you look a little dewey and heart-shaped when Steve pulls back — though it may be just your own lovey-dovey eyes. You sigh without meaning to, all honeyed and sweet, and Steve softens immeasurably at the sound. 

“Okay,” He shifts his hands back down to your hands, rubbing them lightly. “I’m not kidding, even your lips feel frozen. D’ya wanna take a quick shower just to warm up?” 

Something about you flushes at his suggestion— a runaway thought about getting in his shower, it getting steamier and steamier, especially with Steve slipping in to join you halfway. You clear your throat to push away the thought and focus. 

Your hair is wetter than you’d expected, sticking to your neck in cold tendrils. A shiver zips down your spine. All your scandalous thoughts aside, it sounds like a pretty good idea. 

“Yeah,” you nod gingerly. “Yeah, okay, it wouldn’t mind the warm up.” 

Steve steps back, bending down to scoop up your bag deftly. He holds it for you as you unbutton your coat as quick as you can with your frozen fingers, shivering in relief as you shed the drenched layer. Droplets of rain spray in the rustle. Your coat finds a home on a peg beside the door.

It’s comforting how easy it is to follow Steve up the stairs, drinking in his cosy attire from behind— gone are his usual tight fitting jeans. Instead, he’s donned what you guess is his pyjamas; a plain ringer tee and red, plaid, and long flannelette pants. His feet are warmed by fluffy socks that have reindeer prancing about the fabric. A flash of his tan ankle makes you stumble for a moment.

Steve trades your overnight bag, with a smile and a promise to keep it safe, for a pillowy white towel, soft as ever. He leads you into the bathroom off his bedroom, depositing your bag on his bed along the way. 

His fingers find the switch for the heated towel rail and while you fold the towel over it neatly, heart humming in content at being taken care of, Steve starts the shower. He sticks one hand in, holding it under the spray and grimacing at the cold— until the chill slips away beneath the steamy hot water. 

“Alright,” Steve says, pulling his hand back. He gives it a little shake, droplets splattering on the tiles. “All ready for my best girl.“ 

He gives a cheesy and charismatic smile as he wipes his hand dry and if you were brave enough, you might give him a little thank you kiss for it. You aren’t just yet — but when he moves to slip by you, you halt him with a soft hand on his torso. 

“Thank you.” you say, quieter than you intend. You push on the balls of your feet and plant a quick peck onto his cheek. 

Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch. Steve looks like he melts a bit, lashes fluttering as he sucks in a sharp inhale. Turns out neither of you are getting any closer to getting used to the affection. It’s sweet to know it goes both ways. 

“I’m gonna—“ Steve breathes, his hand drifting up, his index finger pointed out to the door. “I’ll be nearby if you need anything. Or if you fall. Just like, uh, yell- or scream. Or— you know what, you’ve taken a shower before.” 

He stumbles out towards the exit, pulling two awkward thumbs-up over his shoulders. The door swings shut behind him, closing with a quiet click. 

Your clothes pool to the ground, a trail leading towards the shower as you move with haste. Though you’re sure the Harrington's won’t notice, you don’t want to waste the hot water. 

The heat soothes you— swathes of relief washing down your body, picking up every piece of ice in your skin and sending it swirling down the drain. It doesn’t take too long to get back to warm and toasty. 

Still, when your eye catches on it, you can’t resist. Steve has a body wash that smells heavenly. You pick it up, flick back the cap, and take a whiff — just to check it’s the one that’s been infiltrating your very dreams. Steve, even on a daily basis, manages to smell so good it drives you close to delirium. 

You’re more than happy to steal it for yourself today. You take another sniff of the bottle in your grasp, just to inhale it with a sigh. The sweater he let you borrow the other week has the exact same smell; a musky perfumed scent, with a hint of bergamot. 

You dollop some in your hand and lather it all over. Properly cleansed and throughly warmed up, you let the final suds whirlpool down the drain before shutting the tap off and stepping out. The fluffy porcelain coloured towel is toasty in your hands as you pluck it off the rail.  A sigh in appreciation comes out as you dry off, twisting it around yourself. 

It’s as you stand there, refreshed and smelling of Steve, in just a towel, do you realise you’ve forgotten to bring in clothes to change into. 

On his bed, Steve sits idle — because what else is Steve supposed to do when you’re in his shower? When you’re naked in his shower. Naked in his shower and probably using his soap and lathering it up down your body and on your boobs and— oh my god, soapy boobs and— 

Steve’s pulls himself from his thoughts with a rapid shake of his head, just in time for the bathroom door to rattle open and your shining face to peek through. 

You look a little flushed, maybe from the heat, or from the lack of clothing. Steve can see your bare shoulder, his eyes tracking a drop as it rolls down your collarbone. None of this helps his runaway thoughts. 

He stands up without thought. Then he realises how strange he might look, like a dog standing to attention. 

“Feeling boober?” Steve says, like an idiot. Heat floods his face as he realises his flub. “BETTER! Are you feeling better?” 

He’s thankful that you at least laugh, a pretty sound that you tuck behind your hand. You have the nerve to wiggle your eyebrows at him, a far cry from the confidence he’s come to expect from you in the past. Steve can’t deny— he adores it. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“God,” Steve groans. He shoves his face into his hands and turns around, his back to you. His words are muffled over his shoulder. “Don’t even ask me that right now.” 

Another laugh titters out of you. Steve can’t resist peering over his shoulder. The steam curls out through the gap of the door, leaving dew on your skin. You look ethereal, like a dewy angel from a dream.

“Alright,” you relent playfully. You’re fighting a smile and losing, badly. Steve yearns. “Can you please pass me my bag?” 

This next time the door opens again and you step out, there’s less tantalising skin to tease Steve and his wandering mind. There’s still a flash of wet skin, the curve between your shoulder and neck. Steve wants to lick it, kiss it, devour it til the skin beneath is riddled with the bruises of a lover. 

For a moment, you’re simply admired — Steve’s eyes on you, adoring and soft, as you creep out the bathroom like you don’t want to make too much noise. 

You notice in your absence Steve has cajoled a little tray table into his room, tucked up at the foot of his bed. Atop it sits a chunky television, antennae sticking up in perfectly straight lines. The ones at home on yours are slightly warped from all the readjusting. 

“Hey,” Steve says. He’s on the bed this time, and while he doesn’t get up this time, he sits up straighter as you emerge from the bathroom. You put your bag down, abandoning it by the door and try to quell your nerves. 

Steve, unless he’s somehow obtained x-ray vision and hadn’t told you, can’t see the nice matching set you’ve got beneath your comfy clothes. 

He won’t see it— unless this night goes where you think it might, where you hope it might, but even still, the thought manages to make you fluster. 

“Hi.” You say back, voice closer to a whisper. 

The bed sinks beneath your weight as you climb on to situate yourself beside Steve. He’s all soft corners and crinkled eyes, his arm raised up in an instant for you to tuck yourself under. Even warmer in his arms, your heart delights when he gives you a little squeeze.

“Alright, movie time!” The television at the foot of the bed pulls Steve away from you. He unwinds his arm enough to crawl down the bed. The grey ringer shirt he has one slips forward a bit and at your angle, you can catch more than a sliver of his tan tummy. 

Without thinking, your thighs press together tightly as heat flares between them. You can trace the alluring wiry trail of hair with your eyes until it disappears into his pyjama pants, continuing out of sight. A part of your wants. 

You want to see where it goes, want to curl your fingers into his waistband and work it downwards, you want find out if the moles go all the way down his thighs like you hope they do.

Hunger sinks its teeth into your skin; a hunger you’ve been getting more and more familiar with. 

“Okay, pervert,” Steve’s cheeky remark shakes you from your thoughts and you start to stammer. He’s clearly caught you staring. “Can’t say I blame you for ogling—“ 

“I was not—“  

“— because I have been told before that I have a very distracting and attractive behind.” 

You sputter and despite your best efforts, a little laugh splutters through as well because well, yeah, he’s not wrong — but your brain is stuck on repeat with something else entirely. 

Tummy, tummy, tummy, the hair on his tummy, the hair leading down into his pants.   

“Yeah, uh huh, okay, Harrington,” You slump back against the pillows with a dramatic sigh, clearly teasing. “If you say so.” 

The television flickers to life right as Steve lunges back towards you with all the energy of a labrador puppy. He squishes down onto you so quickly that you actually squeal in surprise. 

“Oh, I’m back to just Harrington now?” He pouts, squeezing even closer to you. You’re laughing, flattened beneath him in a way that you can’t even wiggle your arms out. He’s draped across you dramatically. You trust him completely. 

“It’s your name, isn’t it?” 

“I thought my name was,” He leans closer and kisses your neck. “Boyfriend. Or baby. Orrrrrr,” 

He kisses up your neck and onto your cheek. His hazel eyes are bright, crinkled in his grin so much that his lashes kiss in the corner. He kisses your nose. “Handsome.” 

“Mmmhm,” you revel in the never-ending affection, glowing from the inside with happiness. You wiggle your arms to make Steve push himself up, just enough to free them from being smothered against your chest. Free to roam, your hands find the sides of his face. 

“What about…” You begin. Steve watches you closely, evidently gleeful from the touchiness of your hands. He pushes into your palm, turning to kiss it fast. “My snookums.” 

You exaggerate the word, your voice going all sugary to butter it up. You watch as emotions ripple across Steve’s face— the twitch in his nose as he tries not to outright frown at you. How polite he is. 

It’s only as he catches the grin spreading across your face, wicked and just loving watching him squirm at the terrible pet-name, does he catch on to your jest. A sigh of relief and a chuckle whooshes out of him at once. 

“Oh, thank God you’re joking.” He drops all his weight into your waiting hands, grinning when you let his face flops forward into your chest. His words are completely muffled as he speaks into your chest. “That could’ve been serious grounds for a breakup.”

You huff a laugh and nudge him up best you can. “Yeah, alright, drama queen. Your movie is starting.” 

Steve’s head pops up, his head twisting back towards the television like he had forgotten about its existence until you had mentioned it. 

“Oh true,” He says. He pushes up off you to sit himself up, shuffling back so instead you can lean on him. Re-situating his arms around you, Steve hums absentmindedly as he throws a leg over you, tangling it with yours. Thoroughly intertwined, you both sink back into the pillows. 

The credits roll up and off the screen, the first five minutes of the film whisked away while you and Steve were settling down. Now, the opening scene begins, the grainy picture on the screen buzzing as it plays the VHS. 

You get approximately two minutes of silence, your and Steve’s heads turned towards the television, until distraction kicks in.

You do your best to ignore it as his head turns towards you, your eyes still focused on the screen, but all your attention runs to Steve. He nudges a little closer to you, his nose pressing into your temple and right as you realise he’s smelling you, he says— 

“Did you use my body wash?” 

You freeze. 

“I— was I not supposed to?” Your voice comes out a bit weaker than intended. 

Steve lets out a soft noise, somewhere between a sigh and a groan, only worrying you further. He starts to shift around a bit, retracting his leg back an inch, his nose no longer nudging close along your temple; all actions that contrast his assuring words. 

“No, no, no, it’s fine, you’re fine—“ Despite his words, he shifts again. His hips shuffle backward, one of his hands moving down subtlety as he can to fuss with his pyjama pants. 

It takes about two more seconds for you to get it — clued in by Steve’s suddenly scarlet cheeks and his embarrassed expression. 

Your mouth drops open a bit unwittingly. 

“Are you—“ 

“Yes.” Steve grates out. He abandons fixing the growing tent in his pants to cover his face with his hands, rolling slightly away from you. You can feel the heat of his embarrassment radiating off him. His words are slightly muffled from behind his palms. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean— I didn’t even realise that was something that got me going until, like, right this second.”  

It’s adorable that he’s so flustered and that he’s apologising. You’ve never had that happen before. You’ve never had someone so conscious of how it might seem— never someone like Steve who doesn’t seem to come with any expectations. 

A thread of relief jolts through you. It reaffirms what you already know; anything you want to do will be done on your terms. 

And with his eyes covered up, if you glance down at his pants for good hard look…. well, that’s between you and the universe.

“Steve,” your fingers curl around one of his wrists, tugging it gently. You try to coax his face out of hiding, your smile somewhere between giggly and endeared. “It’s— it’s okay, really, you don’t have to apologise. I— I mean, I’m honestly flattered.” 

Steve deflates a bit, torn between relief and his still persistent concern. He had made a committed plan that he wouldn’t make any moves until you initiated it first and yet, here he was, like every other male in Hawkins. Popping a boner the moment you settle down to innocently cuddle. God, he’s the worst!

A pout forms on his lips. He wishes he could rewind the last 2 minutes and spend the whole movie holding his breath. 

“What is it about the body wash?” 

Your question takes him by surprise, given the way his other hand drops off from covering his face. He blinks up at you, cheeks still with a hint of cherry red. 

“I- I dunno.” He admits. “Like I said I didn’t even realise that…” 

Steve’s cheeks flush with colour again. He clears his throat. “That would have that effect on me.” 

Something within you preens, a fire stoked by his honest admission; a zing shooting down your spine because you don’t think you will ever get used to hearing how Steve wants you.

“Well,” you begin, the word more timid than you hoped it would be. You clear your throat and cast a glance at the television, feigning casualness. “If I was the cause…” 

You let your hand come up, brushing across his warm tummy. Look up at him through your lashes, hoping, praying it looks sexier than you’re feeling— which is somewhere between flustered and foolish.

Still, Steve’s throat bobs. You watch his eyes dart down to your lingering hand, an inch or so above his waistband. 

“Maybe, I can be the remedy.” 

A tiny groan scrapes out of Steve’s throat, like he would love nothing more. Even so, he pins you with a sincere look, hazel eyes burning into yours. 

“You don’t have to do that.” He assures you. “I mean—“ He coughs awkwardly. “It will go away, uh, in time.” 

“I’m aware how it works, Steve.” 

“Oh, are you?” Steve jokes— laughing when you wallop him in the chest. He grabs your hand, stopping your assault mid-motion with a cheeky smile. “Okay! Okay, I deserved that.” 

He releases your hand and you let it fall onto his chest. Nerves prickle beneath your skin but with them is something new, something you’ve only gained since your time with Steve; anticipation. 

Steeling your anxiety, you let your hand trail down his chest slowly— enough time that he could halt you before you embarrassed yourself. But he doesn’t. Steve watches you closely, his chest rising and falling a bit harder as your hand nears his waistband. 

This time, you don’t stop. You let your fingers brush over the tented fabric hesitantly, torn between wanting to watch your hand or to see his face. As confidently as you can, you palm across his bulge— feeling the heat of his hard length thickening up under your hand. 

Steve groans lowly. 

You look up at him as you rub him softly, taking in his large pupils and pink lips. He’s watching you too, his eyes darting between your face and the hand on his cock. 

“Is this okay?” You check. The movie crackles on in the background, idle noise. Steve nods quickly, a curl of his hair falling down onto his forehead. 

“Yeah,” He says, voice breathier than it was a minute ago. You try out a harder rub, beginning to feel out the shape of his cock, and you curl your fingers around it. Steve groans again, a little bit louder, his eyelashes fluttering. 

Still, he composes himself enough to ask, “Is this okay for you?” 

“Hmmm,” you draw out the noise, the smile on your face giving away your faux-thinking. You squeeze him again, right as you murmur, “Maybe make that noise again and I’ll see.” 

But any noise he makes is captured in your mouth as he surges forward, one of his hands curling up under your jaw. His fingers slide into your hair and his lips are sweet and soft, hungry for more against your own. 

You can’t help but melt under his kisses, body relaxing into the sheets as you let yourself be kissed breathlessly. A warmth pools deep within your chest, drooling down into your stomach. Anticipations sinks in. Your thighs rub together. 

Losing the nerve and the focus, your hand slips up to cup at Steve’s hip— but if he cares, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he takes it as a cue to press forward, leaning his weight onto on his elbows to hold his weight as he shifts up, his lips never leaving yours. 

It’s one smooth motion, the way he slips a leg between your own, his body held up and hovering above yours. He kisses, slow and languid. You ache. Your lips haven’t ever been so kissed before. 

It isn’t until his thigh shifts up and presses just right do you notice it properly — unable to swallow your shallow gasp, lips halting against Steve’s as a bolt of pleasure blooms deep in your gut. Your eyelashes flutter, a shadow of embarrassment threatening your cheeks. 

“S’okay?” Steve whispers, not relenting any of his closeness. His lips brush yours. 

You nod gently, a quiet hum sounding in your throat. You’re not entirely sure you can form words right now. Not when it feels like your heartbeat is everywhere — when you can feel the heat between your legs, the tightness of your nipples as they peak, the undeniable thrum of lust building within you. 

And certainly not when you can feel Steve, his hardness pressed up against your thigh, his pupils bigger than usual. They’re ringed in that hazel you love— a colour that might be your new favourite ever. 

Fuck, you’re in deep. What an incredibly sappy thought to have while you’re getting hot and bothered. Did Steve think that way about you too? Think about the colour of your eyes while he kissed your mouth?

“I…” You finally find your voice and Steve pulls back a couple inches so he can see you properly. His eyes dart over your face adoringly, his lips rosy red from all the kisses and quirked into a smile. He looks at you as if you’re everything. 

“I want to…” You say, unable to find the words to finish your sentence. Embarrassment winds up inside you, ready to spring free but Steve seems uncaring at your hesitance. 

“You wanna what?” 

He kisses the corner of your mouth with a hum. Endlessly patient. Somehow your stomach churns a little faster at that. Nerves stand up on their end, a thousand uneasy prickles over your body. 

“I want to.” You say this time, firmer. “Do more.” 

It still sounds too mousy coming out and you see a flicker of something on Steve’s face. 

“If you do, I mean.” You add on quickly. “I want to if you do.”

Steve huffs a quiet laugh, like the idea of checking in with him was a bit absurd. His gaze roams over your face slowly, taking his fine time just looking at you. He looks as though he doesn’t quite know what to say. 

He lands on, “You don’t seem sure.” 

Your heart flip-flops at the wrinkle between his eyebrows, his concern evident. He fixes you with a serious, sincere look.

You nod, your hair scrunching up against the pillow as you do. “I am. I just…” 

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and worry it, thinking of how to put this. You’ve said it before, you’ve told him how it was in the past, how you hadn’t enjoyed it and yet…

Feeling too squirmish under Steve’s intense stare, you avert your eyes to look at the ceiling and swallow the knot in your throat. 

Your voice comes out a whisper. “I want to try but I’m not sure— I just I can’t promise that I’ll- that y’know, I—” 

Eyes crushing closed, you try to seize your bubbling anxiety before it seizes you. This is Steve. You trust him wholly. Just a moment ago you were thinking about how much you like him and—

“Hey,” Steve murmurs lowly, nudging his nose into yours. Your eyes open. He smiles softly when he says, “I have no interest in doing something you don’t enjoy.” 

The protest flounders up inside you before you can stop it. “But—“ 

“So,” He cuts you off pointedly. “If we give it a go and you don’t like it, that’s okay. We can just figure out what you do enjoy, okay?“

For a long moment, you just stare up at him.  

“Yeah? So we can just try and if it… If I…” You flounder for words, sounding like you think it must be too good to be true. You stare up at the ceiling as you try to verbalise the biggest hurdle, the final niggling worry.

You peer back up at Steve’s face. “You… you wouldn’t be disappointed if we started but then I wanted to stop?” 

Some emotion shutters across Steve’s face, a flash of devastation. You mistake it for annoyance. 

An unwelcome hitch suddenly twists in your stomach. “I'm sorry, I know that you— we already- last time, we talked about this and I should know—“ 

“Stop it,” Steve interrupts with a soft shake of his head. “Stop doing that, it’s fine to feel unsure or- or to not know what you like. It takes time and experience to figure what you do like.” 

His hand shifts up, brushing the hair back from your forehead. He leaves it there, the warmth of his hand a comfort. His fingers curl lightly into your hair. 

“That’s all I wanna do,” He breathes softly, his lips tugging up at the corners. He looks unbearably earnest, his brown eyes shining. “Just wanna do what you like. Wanna figure out what you like.” 

He leans down and kisses your cheek. Then your jaw. Then that soft sensitive spot under your ear. You squirm but this time for all the right reasons. 

“Y’want me to do that?” He murmurs. 

You’re breathing a little heavier and when Steve nips at your earlobe sparingly, just a love bite and a flash of teeth, your breath catches loudly. Desire surges through you, hot and straight between your legs. 

It takes another moment to remember he’s asked you a question. 

“Yeah…” you breathe. You wanna nod but you don’t want him to stop what he’s doing. Your throat bobs as you swallow. “I wanna do that. Wanna— wanna learn what you like too.” 

Steve hums, a pleased sound, and he kisses languidly at your neck. His lips, soft and plush, scrape against your skin in a way that gathers heat low in your gut. Your hips tilt forward an inch, moving against his thigh almost imperceptibly.

“Yeah?” 

The way he says it, the way the word rolls out of his mouth, all husky and low, makes your nipples peak. 

“We get to learn together, hm?” He kisses your neck again. The soft press of his tongue and the gentle scrape of his teeth have you gripping the sheets, almost white knuckled. 

Suddenly, you can’t stand to not be touching him. Your hands fly from the sheets, fingers curling around his midriff, feeling at the warm skin. His t-shirt is warmed by him. You slip your hands beneath it as he bites where your shoulder meets your neck, soft enough to make you sigh. 

Your hand finds skin. Finally, finally, you get your hands on that damned happy trail that’s been all but haunting your daydreams for the past months. 

As Steve kisses down your neck, you trace the line of hair with your finger slowly. Your thumb strokes the coarse hair all the way down to his waistband, gentle and hungry all at once— trying to commit it all to memory. Unwittingly, Steve shivers at the motion. 

“Fuck,” his breath shudders against your neck. He tucks his face in closer, fighting the urge to press his body up against yours and grind. You feel the twitch in his hips anyway. “You drive me crazy.” 

“Me too,” you gasp when he pulls off your neck, blowing cool air across the heated skin he’s been dedicating himself to. You wonder if a bruise will come up, beautiful and kiss-bitten. You clench a little at the thought, the heat between your thighs only increasing. 

A mark from him— a mark of a lover. 

You want to give one to him too. Managing to remember you can do things with your hands, other than just pawing at his back, you shift them up to curl into his hair. Tugging gently, you coax his face up enough so you can nose alone the length of his neck. 

Steve’s panting and you can hear his breath catch when you start planting kiss after kiss on his skin— dragging your bottom lip across those glorious moles you adore so much. 

Without meaning to, you press him back and Steve lets himself roll back onto the mattress, his hands tugging you closer. You take the invitation and struggle for a moment to get up over his hips, one leg too tangled in the blanket on the bed. 

“My leg,” you laugh weakly, having to retract a hand from his hair to free it. When you do, you settle down, straddling his hips, and try not to lose your confidence. Still, you can’t help apologising. “Sorry.” 

Steve peers up at you lovingly, frowning a little when you apologise. “What? No, it’s fine.” 

He shifts one hand and grabs the loose blanket beside you and then hefts it up, throwing it as far as he can off the bed with a grunt. It lands somewhere behind you with a soft noise. 

“Blanket’s fault.” He says, brown eyes back on you. “Freaking cockblock. I got rid of him, babe, don’t worry.” 

You snort a little, leaning down to kiss his perfect lips.

“My hero.” You murmur sarcastically against them. 

“Ooh, say that again, baby,” Steve moans exaggeratedly, throwing his head back onto the pillow dramatic, his eyes screwed shit.  

You laugh, unknowingly relaxing a little further into him. You swat at his chest. 

“Steve.” 

“Oh!” He moans again, all girlish and fake, and twists his head in the other direction. “I love it when you say my name like I’m an idiot!” 

You gasp, but it’s still hidden in your laughter as you hit his chest again, for a different reason this time. 

“Don’t say that!” You say genuinely. “I don’t think you’re an idiot.” 

Steve drops the act, his eyes creasing open to shine up at you. He’s glowing beneath you, cheeks a bit flushed and grinning like he’s a little bit in love with you. You think he might be. 

“No, you don’t.” He agrees. He soothes his hands up and down your sides. “Only idiot is that idiot who let you think there was anything wrong with you.” 

“Ugh,” you scoff. “Please don’t bring him up ever again— least of all when we’re in bed.” 

Steve squeezes your sides gently and smiles up at you like he hasn’t heard a word you’ve said. “Noted.” 

And then you kiss him. 

For a couple of minutes it’s this easy, lazy making out that you love. Though, it’s like there’s a furnace turning up beneath you both, the intensity getting more feverish with every kiss. When Steve finally pulls back from you, panting, he looks as flustered as you feel. 

“Can I take these off?” 

His fingers are curled into the waistband of your pyjama pants. You nod before you can overthink it, letting him shimmy them down your thighs and settling yourself down on the comforter. Steve sits up a bit beside you, to tug them down your legs and off your ankles. 

Steve’s focus is on his hands but your gaze is stuck on his face— and you watch as he tosses your pants behind him carelessly. His eyes fix on your cunt, hidden away behind your lacy panties. 

“Woah,” he murmurs softly, eyes flicking up to meet yours. He leans down on his elbows, one arm on either side of your hips and pings the elastic on the cutest lingerie you own. “These are very pretty.” 

He sounds like he means it, his voice tinged with lust. It gives you a moment of confidence. 

“Yeah?” You ask. You slide your hands up, pushing your shirt up gingerly as you to reveal the matching bra to him.

Even from your distance, you can see how Steve’s pupils dilate, blowing way out. “You like them?” 

Steve let’s out a pained noise as his head flops over, his nose pressed into your hipbone. One of his hands reaches down between his legs, adjusting himself in his pants. 

He looks back up at you, hair a bit mussed, and pouts.

“That’s not fair! That’s so not fair. Did you plan this? Blindside me by wearing my body wash and then surprise me with matching lingerie?” 

The way he says it, all faux accusatory, makes you grin. He sits up long enough to tug his own shirt off, discarding it behind him, and crawls up the bed to kiss you. You catch a glint of the single chain he wears around his neck before he's kissing you.

“You—” Kiss. “look—” Kiss. “so—” Kiss. “fuckin’—” Kiss. “hot.” 

He pulls back, taking a moment to just gaze at you before he leans back further, scuttling down the sheets til he’s paused between above your legs. 

Something within you flares hotly at the memory of the last time he was in the position. You feel a warm pulse in your cunt, a trickle of slick coating your panties. Your hips shift an inch— half nerves, half anticipation.

Steve kisses you over your panties, like last time, the first chaste and on your clit. The next is a little lower, a little slower, his lips parting further and his tongue pressing languidly against your core. You squirm, breathing a little heavier. 

His hands grips gently at your hips, moving up to smooth over your thighs. He lets his fingers slip forward, the tips of them pressing lightly into your inner thighs. He pulls them further apart and ruins you a bit when he kisses sweet along the skin of your thigh. 

“I’m pretty sure we could just do this every time and I’d be happy,” Steve says, but it’s paired a chuckle fringed with nerves.

He looks up at you and you realise it is a bit of nervousness— like he’s worried you might find it embarrassing just how much he likes it. 

Your blood hums in response, warmer, all of it rushing down your body. You don’t know quite what to say to that, so you say, “Yeah?” 

Steve smiles, that flash of nervousness already gone or cleverly hidden. He gives your thighs a gentle squeeze with his large hands and rubs his cheek up against one of them. 

“Are you kidding me? I think I’d do anything you wanted just to hear those noises you made again.” 

Your lips part slightly in surprise. He’s always so startlingly honest and forward with his feelings but, somehow, it still manages takes you by surprise— that he’s not at all shy about how much he likes you. 

Scrambling for an appropriately sexy response, you come up blank and instead decide to press your thighs together. Between them, Steve’s cheeks squish forward, his lips forming an absurdly funny pout. 

“Hey!” He exclaims.

It comes out a little muffled with his face squidged up and the mixture of both his face and voice makes you laugh. You release him, legs falling apart, feeling the breath of his laugh again your skin. 

“Kidding, you can warm my ears anytime you want, honey,” He’s still grinning up at you when he says it. Part of you know he’s being completely serious. 

Your gut burns low. You resist the urge to squirm, feeling the heat chase down to your cunt. It’s hard to relax when he manages to make you feel so keyed up. 

“Stop getting distracted.” You jest. 

“You stop getting distracted,” He jibes back, but his focus drifts back down, his eyes darkening with a fiery lust. 

He rubs the skin of your thighs again, soothingly, and lets one hand creep forward til his knuckles are brushing up against the edge of your panties. His thumb presses forward, into the wet spot you’ve soaked through. 

Even so, he still asks, “How we doin’? Still feeling good?” 

You nod quickly, then think verbal confirmation is probably far better. “Yeah, still good.” 

Realising you’re staring up at the ceiling, hard, you flick your eyes down between your legs. Even if it doesn’t feel particularly sexy, you still have to say it. “Thank you for checking.” 

“Of course,” Steve says. He pinches the elastic of your panties lightly, his eyebrows raising in question. “Gonna take these off, yeah? Then you let me know if you don’t like anything I’m doing.” 

Despite your history, a huge part of you wants to say yeah, fat chance of that because yeah, you’re beginning to wonder if your boyfriend has some genuinely magical fingers. And a magical mouth. And wait, does that mean his co—

The thought gets ripped away as you feel your panties get tugged downwards and you quickly lift your hips to help. Though he’s seen you bare before, it’s impossible to stop the flush that rolls through your body, hot and tinged with embarrassment. You want to close your legs but Steve between them prevents that from happening. 

“Here,” Steve hums, reaching a hand up to scoop up your own from the bedsheets.

He gives it a quick kiss on the palm and then moves it up to land in his hair. “You let me know how m’doing, okay?” 

Your fingers curl into his brunette locks automatically and grip tightly when he leans in, his hot tongue dipping between your folds. Pleasure drips into your body as he begins to lick softly, his skilled tongue finding your bundle of nerves quickly and twisting around it. 

Heat builds. You close your eyes and let yourself enjoy it, soft pants escaping your lips as Steve kisses and suckles where you’re most sensitive, til there’s a moan lacing every breath. 

Fuck, he’s so good at this. How is he so good at this? 

One of his hands on your thighs starts to knead gently as the other one slides forward, til his thumb is rested at your slicked entrance. He hasn’t stopped sucking on your clit but your sudden sharp inhale catches his attention. 

“Sorry,” you say instinctively. 

“It’s fine,” Steve soothes, his thumb circling around your soaked hole, which clenches in response.

He kisses your thigh. Desire burns you up from within, your fingers twisting a little tighter in his hair, giving away your nerves. 

“We’re just figuring out what you like, yeah?” He muses, his words half comfort, half lust. 

You nod but don’t speak, trying to trust him enough to let his words calm you. Steve gives you a moment to breathe before he resumes the work with his mouth, his hot mouth suckling at your clit once again. 

He waits until you’re back to those quiet, shy lusty little noises before he tries again, prodding softly at your entrance in warning before he gently sinks his finger in. You gasp again, hands tightening in his hair — as something molten hot shoots right up your spine. 

“Steve,” you cry out his name. It feels... good, which feels like a fucking miracle in itself. He begins to fuck the finger in and out slowly, still lapping at your clit. A heat that you’ve only felt once before starts to nip at your skin, bleeding into each nerve. 

Your panting grows heavier and without meaning to, you clench down around him, desperate for a little more. 

“See, you like that one, huh?” Steve mumbles against you, his dark eyes flashing up to take in your face contorted in pleasure. His cock thickens unbearably in his pants, too confined. You nod, hair scrunching up against the pillow. 

“Yea—yes,” You say, feeling your hips rock down an inch. You want more of that. 

Steve obliges, more than willingly, adding another finger. It slides in with little resistance. It’s hotter than anything else to get to see you like this, pliant and horny, rocking your hips against his mouth. 

To get to make you like this— sucking on your cute little clit and fucking his fingers in, hearing the adorable squelch of your wetness. You’re so turned on it makes his brain melt a bit, the way you’re leaking all over his fingers. Steve’s cock throbs desperately— but he wants to make sure you’re stretched out enough to take him. If you want that, that is.

He eases one more finger in, keeping a careful watch on your face to see how you take it. You keen beautifully, back arching slightly as he curls his fingers and begins to stretch you out. 

You pant deliriously, these tiny whimpers beginning to slip out your throat. Steve wishes he could see your face, the cute scrunch of your brows as you moan— but happily settles for latching his lips back onto your cunt. 

Three fingers feel even better than two, you find, as you grip the sheets tightly— you’re throbbing but in this torturous way, balancing on the edge of too much and not enough. There’s a hint of pain lingering at the back, but not enough to distract you from the pleasure. 

It takes you by surprise then, when the pleasure suddenly tapers off, your eyes creasing up open and head popping up. You realise Steve is slowly stopping, his slick fingers slipping out of you as he sits back up a bit. 

“Why’d you stop?” You say without thinking.

Flushing, you quickly follow it up. “Every— everything okay?” 

God, you sound wiped. Your chest is still heaving and your clit twitches, missing the stimulation of your boyfriend’s mouth. The air smells honeyed and perfumed with sex. 

“You tell me,” Steve murmurs sweetly, his lips grazing the inside of your knee in an almost kiss. “You said you wanted to do more. Is this enough more?” 

Your heart nearly bursts in the pure consideration. God, he’s so fucking nice to you. So unbothered to take things your pace, so attuned to making you feel good. You know that you could happily do this more for the rest of the night. 

But it’s not what you had in mind — and the longer you wait, the more you’re beginning to crave getting Steve to a similar state you’re in. Moaning, flushed in the face, his hands buried in your hair. 

“We can do more,” You say, your voice dropping back into that shy whisper. 

Steve watches you closely, his hand still absentmindedly rubbing at your thigh dotingly. 

You clear your throat and speak a little louder. “I wanna do more.” 

“Yeah?” Steve says, his grin growing. He huffs and shakes his head a little, dropping your gaze. 

“I mean, believe me, even if we just—“ He gestures vaguely between your thighs. “— did this all night? Night well spent.” 

You know he means it, especially with his hungry gaze that dips back down, his tongue slipping out to lick his bottom lip briefly.

You press up onto one elbow and reach out one hand, hooking your finger over the one single chain he wears. There’s a ring looped on it, the one you gave him as a promise, and just the sight of it makes you glow inside. 

You tug the chain forward lightly and him with it, Steve shifting up the bed til you’re nearly face to face, his frame hovering above you. The beds dips beneath his hands as they crawl up to either side of your waist, his intense eyes locking onto your face. He might be holding his breath. 

Swallowing, you move up and press your lips to his in a slow, soft kiss. It turns deeper, hotter, heavier. You swipe your tongue into his mouth and Steve lets out a pitiful noise in response, pressing his mouth against yours desperately. 

Drawing back with a little gasp, you open your eyes and repeat your earlier sentiment, “I want to do more.” 

Steve watches you, his exhale shaking slightly. You dot a kiss on his cheek quick, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“I want to do more with you.” 

A kiss on his other cheek, just as fast. Pink blooms beneath where your lips touch.

“I want to do more, right now.” 

Steve smiles splits into a grin, his eyes shining as he chuckles, the sound doused in fondness. “Okay, okay, I got the message,” He murmurs. 

Pushing back to sit on his heels, he turns and rummages around in his bedside table for a moment. You lay back on the pillows and try catch your breath, knowing it’s only a matter of time before it’s stolen once more. 

When Steve pulls back, there’s a row of condoms in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other. He tears off one of the condoms and throws the rest of them behind him without thought.

You can’t help but tilt your head up, neck straining a bit, not wanting to look away for a moment as Steve raises onto his knees and pushes his boxers down. His cock kicks up, released from its confines with a soft slap against his happy trail. 

Unwittingly, your mouth waters a bit.

And look, you’ve seen a dick before, okay? It’s pretty hard to sleep with someone and not see one, unless you have your eyes closed the entire time. 

But Steve’s cock is… pretty. 

Pink and aching, the head of it slick with a bit of pre-cum— that you realise he’s gotten from being worked up whilst eating you out. You gush a little at the dizzying thought. 

You want to touch it — or put it in your mouth so you can drool over it, can suck on it, can feel the heady weight of it on your tongue. Or, as you realise what the ache of your cunt means, you really, really want him to fuck you with it. 

Instinct drives your thighs apart, beckoning him between them. Steve’s eyes darken as he notes the motion, moving a bit more hastily to tear the condom packet open. He rolls it down his length, quick and precise. 

“Okay,” Steve breathes, reaching out for the lube and drizzling a generous amount into his palm. He keeps the bottle within reach as he slicks it over his heavy cock, a beautiful groan pushing out his throat as he does. 

“Okay,” He says again, a little breathier than before. Shuffling forward, Steve lines himself up with your core gently before halting. His eyes dart up to your face.

“You let me know if there’s anything you don’t like or you wanna stop.” 

You nod, his ardent care only serving to fuel your lust. You’ll coo over it in the afterglow— right now you want to be around him, want to feel him pulsing inside you, want to feel full where you’re suddenly feeling so, so empty. 

Steve shifts forward, beginning to sink into you with a low groan of pleasure. 

The first few seconds are bliss — Steve’s done his job well at warming you up and something hungry awakens with a burst of pleasure as you take the first few inches.

Then, something a little more uncomfortable joins the mix. 

You try not to squirm, disappointment inflating as your pleasure is robbed by the twinges of pain. It’s not unbearable but you’re enjoying yourself less. Steve moves in another inch and then discomfort abruptly becomes pain.

You inhale sharply, teeth gritted together, and Steve stops moving in an instant. 

“Woah, y’okay?” 

You nod, even as your eyes slip shut. Half of this is a mental game, you know that—you’ll never loosen up if you don’t try to relax. 

“Yeah,” you say quietly, voice a bit tight. “Just— just gimme a minute.” 

Steve murmurs a quiet sure but after a moment he says, “Wait, lemme—“ and moves forward so he’s hovering above you instead of sitting back, your faces much closer now. The jostling doesn’t help but having Steve closer does. 

He keeps his hips as still as he can and kisses your cheek. You don’t open your eyes just yet, willing yourself desperately to relax, to enjoy it. You take a deep breath.

“We can stop,” Steve whispers. 

You shake your head. Creasing your eyes open, you move your hands up so you can twine them around Steve’s neck in almost a hug. Steve leans down and kisses your cheek again, then steals a kiss from your lips. 

“I wanna—“ You gasp, frustration mounting at how the pain doesn’t seem to be subsiding. You sound miserable as you cling to him closer. “I want this to work.” 

“It’s okay if it doesn’t,” Steve responds, his arm shifting up so he can trace his thumb over your cheekbone. 

The movement moves his hips forward another inch, pain spiking so severely that you wince aloud, your face pinched in discomfort. That’s all it takes for Steve to shift back, easing out of you gently. You’re devastated at the relief that follows. 

“Okay, I’m not doing that if it hurts you—“ 

“It wasn’t,” You lie fruitlessly. You know Steve heard your wince—but maybe if you lie, you can trick your body. 

Hands coming up to cover your face, you scrunch your eyes up, annoyed at how they sting with tears so quickly. Your voice is all wobbly when you say, “I’m sorry. I'm sorry, I really want this to work, Steve.” 

Steve aches at your words, moving in to tug at your hands. His voice is soft, sweet.

“Hey, hey, I know that, sweetheart.” 

You don’t let him in, hands still shielding your face. He kisses your knuckles instead, his thumbs swiping up and down your wrists comfortingly. 

He waits a moment before he continues, voice buttery soft, “I know you want this. It’s not your fault if your body only likes it some ways and not others. You can’t control that and I know that.”  

You take one deep breath and it shudders as you inhale, sounding far too teary for Steve’s liking. He tugs at your wrists again, relieved when you let him pull them away tentatively. You aren’t crying but you look damn near close. 

“What’s got you so upset, huh?” Steve coos, nuzzling in close, his nose brushing against yours.

He releases your wrists to cup your face, tender and soft, his brows knit together in his concern. “You know I don’t mind- I told you that I don’t care what we do, just that you’re enjoying it.” 

You take another shaky inhale, a little more stable than the last. Steve can feel how you move to press back against him, nuzzling him back. You take another moment before you reply. 

“I just-“ You start, voice still tight. “It’s so stupid. I wanted it— I wanted to enjoy it. And that doesn’t even seem to matter to my body. It doesn’t even change how it feels and that sucks. Like I can’t control this part of me.” 

Steve listens dutifully, waiting til you finish and your eyes find him.

“Well,” He starts, averting his eyes somewhat sheepishly. “Take everything I say with a grain of salt, okay? But… your body doesn’t hurt just to mess with you, right?” 

He waits a moment for your tentative nod. “Right. So, it’s not for nothing. It’s trying to tell you something and- and ignoring that isn’t having control. You have to listen and work with your body — it’s your partner in all this.” 

“I thought you were my partner,” you whisper, the small smile on your lips giving away your joke. Steve faux rolls his eyes and kisses the tip of your nose. 

“I’m your other partner.” He smiles. Then sighs, casting his gaze above your head for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Am I making any sense?” 

Wiggling one hand up, you place it on his cheek tenderly and begin to whisper. “You’re making a lot of sense actually.” 

Steve sighs, leaning his face into the palm of your hand with a huff. “Well, that’s a relief.” 

For a minute, there’s only quiet. Your emotions come down from their swell and you take the time to admire the beautiful boy above you, who seems to be doing just the same to you. 

After a moment of time, you clear your throat and say, “Can we try again?” 

Steve seems to think on it for a moment before he nods, turning to kiss your palm. 

“This is gonna make me sound like a total guy,” He says, words muffled against your hand. His brown eyes flash up to yours, darting between them. “But maybe we should try from the back. Like, different angle and all.” 

You snort, unable to hold it in because it does sound like such a guy thing to say. Even so, you give a little nod, eager to try something else. You don’t even want to acknowledge the mounting dread around disappointing Steve — even with all his assurances, you can’t help but feel as though this has been one gigantic let down. 

As Steve shifts back, you become suddenly aware of the lubed up slick spot on your thigh where Steve's cock was resting and scrunch your nose with a laugh. Peering down, you drag a finger through the wetness left on it. 

“Ew,” you laugh. 

“Ew?” Steve echoes incredulously. “Alright, that’s it.” His sits up and back, his hands darting down lightning fast, manoeuvring you all of sudden. He hooks his hands under your hips and lifts, twisting so you’re suddenly splayed on your front. 

You’re giggling all the while, drunk on the feeling of your boyfriend’s hands as they trail up your sides. The hair of his tanned scrapes against your back as he leans in, mouthing along your shoulder towards your neck. 

You find your knees and prop yourself up on them, lifting your hips off the sheets of Steve’s bed. At the angle he’s draped himself over you, it’s a perfect line up of his cock with your cunt, the head of it teasing your entrance when you push back. 

You're relieved that your emotional moment hadn't killed the mood altogether. That same hot, pulsating want from before tears through you and Steve takes a stuttering breath, the slightest moan in his throat. You feel his forehead press against your shoulder blade, as though he’s trying to compose himself. 

“You-“ He says, the word catching in his throat. As if unable to help himself, his hips grind forward, pushing his aching cock between your slick folds. You make pitiful, keening noises in response, a thread of pleasure run through the two of you. 

“You ready?” Steve asks shakily. He relents some of his closeness to grab the lube, giving another generous drizzle into his palm to slather over himself. 

“Please,” you whisper, pushing yourself back an inch. 

This time when Steve pushes himself in, the bliss stretches out, lasting more than just the first couple seconds. You make a high, breathy sigh of a noise and your head drops forward. 

Steve pauses, his breathing on the ragged side, and checks in. “Still feeling okay?” 

You nod feverishly, a whine building up in your throat that threatens to escape if Steve doesn’t move. Or maybe if he does move. You can’t tell — can’t tell anything other than how good it feels to have him inside you, hot and throbbing. 

“Yes,” you manage to gasp out. “Yeah, keeping going, please,” 

Steve grunts, complying in an instant, sinking his cock further in. Something inside you tightens up again— but it’s not nearly as noticeable as last time. Still, Steve recognises it and he slows for a moment. 

“I’m okay,” you assure breathily, face nearly pressed into the bed. You need him to keep moving. 

And he does; his cock sinks in another inch right as his hand creeps around your hip, searching for something blindly. You barely get one moment of confusion before his calloused fingers drag through the slick on your cunt and move up, pushing against your clit purposefully. 

You moan, loud and high. The friction of your clit is enough to make your thighs spread a little wider and your hips move back before you even realise what you’re doing, almost the rest of Steve’s cock sinking inside you. It feels good but something else pinches up inside you.

Steve moans, muffling the sound into your skin as he hides his face in your neck. 

You pant, suddenly dreading how you can feel the prick of pain on the fringes of your pleasure if Steve stretches you too far. "Don't- n-not too much," You warn gently, the words all breathy, still swathed in your pleasure. "I—uh— fuck, I don't think I can take it all."

You feel Steve's nod against the back of your neck, accompanied by a low hum in his throat.

“Y-yeah, okay,” He stammers. His hips roll forward and he follows your word, not quite pushing all the way in. "F-Fuck."

His breath is hot on your neck and the sudden urge for his kiss is nearly overwhelming. Even not facing him, the way Steve drapes himself around you, gentle even with how he grinds his hips into yours, feels intimate. Your cunt gives a soft squelch. 

“Oh fuck,” Steve gasps, stilling completely — the feeling of you wrapped around him is enough to nearly push him to the edge. He screws his eyes closed and whimpers, trying to keep himself together. 

“Y’okay?” You whisper breathily after a couple of moments, forehead pressed into the sheets. Your hips move just a little bit, shifting in a little circle so his cock slides out an inch, his fingertips grazing across your clit again. 

“I—ngh-“ Another whine slips out from his throat at your movement and Steve’s hand slips back, gripping your hip tightly. “Jesus Christ. Y-Yeah I’m good, just trying not to— fuck- end this too quickly.” 

He moves a bit, readjusting him arms to hold weight up a little easier.

“But you’re really wet and, like, really warm,” He grunts, almost accusingly. “And I really like you, so,” 

You can’t help it — a little laugh titters out of you, one of pure delight because Steve is sincere about his feelings. The laugh only serves to make Steve groan louder. 

“Shit,” He gasps, his forehead pressing into your shoulder. “You can’t laugh right now, it’s so not helping.” 

“Sorry,” you laugh again, a little more apologetic this time. 

Then, after a moment of gathered bravery, you say, “I don’t think I like this position. I can’t see your face.” 

Steve makes a pained noise from behind you, a breathy and sharp inhale, and suddenly his grip on your hip is twice as tight. 

“I’m gonna need you to stop talking. Please.” He grits out, voice sounding tight and barely restraining the moan in it. “I’m trying really hard here but you’re making this impossible.” 

Steve shifts on his elbow again, bicep bulging as he lowers himself to one side. His hips press into your backside, sinking himself further into your wet heat, as he settles his weight down onto the mattress. The springs make a noise in protest. 

You’re still closely intertwined, Steve pressed up against you, still throbbing within you, but now it’s more like… you’re spooning.

You settle down too, forcing out an exhale to let yourself melt back into Steve’s chest. 

He lets out a soft groan again but the new position means he can bury his face in your neck properly— and when you turn your head right, he seizes the chance for a kiss. 

He kisses sweet and slow to begin with, plush lips nipping at yours as if you’re not already in the throes of sex. Like he kisses you hello. His nose nudges against yours and he shimmies an arm beneath you on the bed. It curls itself around your stomach and Steve uses it to bring you even closer. 

“Is this better?” He whispers. He nudges his hips for a bit, giving a gentle thrust. Something warm flares at the pit of your belly, hungry for more. “Still okay?” 

You nod, a whimper escaping your throat as you steal another kiss from his lips. “Yes,” You whisper, lips scraping against his, hardly believing it. “Feels— feels good, baby,”

Steve finally gives in to his moan, a beautiful noise that sends heat rushing between your thighs. He begins to move more, building a gentle rhythm as he fucks into you, sensual and adoring all in one. 

Time drips away. You feel much warmer now, pressed up against Steve’s chest, with his kisses all around. One of his hands stays dutifully between your legs, pushing around your bundle of nerves and pulling weak, soft noises from you. The other, you cling to, your fingers twisted as best they can with his.

Pleasure wraps the pair of you up til a soft glow of sex and love settles over the both of you. Steve murmurs doting words, an endless stream of encouragement pouring from his mouth as he nibbles at the shell of your ear. 

Still feelin’ good? Yeah, you are. Just listen to you- sounding so pretty wrapped around my cock. 

Fuck, your pussy makes the cutest noises. So wet f’me, isn’t she? God, you drive me crazy. 

You’re taking me so well, yeah? Being so fuckin’ good f’me- letting me know how you feel. M’so lucky - fuckin’ love— love this with you.

You don’t even realise when every gasp out your mouth has turned into a moan, each breath building and mounting. Your chest heaves and Steve’s motions go from lazy to focused. His hips slow a little but his fingers over your clit speed up, dancing across the nerves perfectly. 

You clutch desperately at the arm he has wrapped around your waist, your head thrown back to rest on his shoulders with your eyes screwed shut. Your hole clenches wildly as you hurtle towards your orgasm— and go right over the edge without warning. 

You make this cute little gasping noise, high pitched and wrapped in a pretty sigh, and Steve doesn't think he's ever heard something so sensual, so pretty. His blood seems to thrum in response, pleasure turning the coil in his gut tighter and tighter.

Euphoria melts into your body and you sag into it with a drawn out soft moan, turning your face to search for Steve’s in an instant. One of your hands darts up, sloppily reaching for the back of his neck, suddenly starved of a kiss. 

You find his lips right as Steve finds his peak— his handsome face screwing up as he all but whines into your mouth. You capture it, some heavy, open mouthed kiss of desperation shared between you. 

Pleasure flows over you, hot and heavy, fuelled by the frantic grinds of Steve’s hips into yours as he whimpers into your mouth. Even though some part of you feels vulgar, another, louder, part of you feels like you've taken part in something sacred. Steve's fierce kiss certain feels akin to something holy.  

After a minute, the euphoria fades. You settle back into your body, feeling the scratch of the cotton sheets beneath you, the sweat of Steve’s chest on your back, the slightly discomfort in between your thighs. 

Steve can feel it, the moment you tense back up, some unwelcome twinge of pain in your gut. He’s shuffling back and pulling out before you even have to ask.

Without his chest to lean on, you roll backward naturally and flop onto your back, still panting lightly. Steve shifts up to hover above you. 

“You good?” He asks, that same breathlessness in his voice. He smiles handsomely, his hair a little limper than usual, flopping over his forehead. He looks gorgeous. “You did great.” 

That almost makes you laugh, the sincere praise so like one might give a child, but Steve seals it with a kiss to your forehead. Your laugh turns into a sheepish but giddy grin. “I’m gonna take the condom off, I’ll be right back.” 

He disappears from your line of sight for a minute or two and you can hear him rustling around in his room.

Without any distractions, you suddenly remember the film you’d put on in the beginning, still running at the end of the bed— the final credits are just starting to roll. The streetlights glow a little brighter in the evening dark through the curtains. 

You huff out a breath and your smile comes without even trying. In fact, if Steve hadn’t come back when he did, you’re sure you would’ve started giggle to yourself madly, cocooned in your own contentedness. That same awed, gleeful smile just like the first time round.

“You look like a dope, smiling like that, you know that?”

Steve’s wearing a pair of boxers, green plaid, and he’s got a fresh, warm wash-cloth in his hands. 

"I didn't know that," You muse playfully.

“Hey,” He changes tone to less playful, kneeling on the bed. You notice the change of clothes in his other hand when he throws them onto the duvet beside him. “M’just gonna clean you up a bit, that okay?” 

You’re sure there’s a pinch of embarrassment in you somewhere but, still blissed from your orgasm, you can’t manage to find it. Steve is quick and precise, the warm cloth wiping up any excess sticky fluids. He kisses the inside of your knee when he’s done. 

“All done,” He murmurs, climbing back off the bed in the direction of the bathroom, switching off the television as he does. He gestures to the clothes at the foot of the bed as he walks. “Y’can wear these if you want.” 

Finally feeling less flattened, you shift up to lean on your elbows. He’s grabbed you a pair of his boxers, the matching blue pair to his green, and one of his old Hawkins swim-team shirts. You slip into both quickly, your heart going a bit fuzzy with how soft the shirt is. 

Then you crawl beneath the covers, blood still rushing far faster than usual and a satisfied tiredness beginning to sink into your body. You can't help but thinking it all over — Steve's mouth between your legs, the feel of him sinking into you, the ecstasy of falling apart in his arms.

Part of you hadn't wanted to acknowledge that, well, it fucking worked this time and you enjoyed it. A niggly fear about jinxing it. Like if you pointed it out, it would incite the likelihood of your body turning on you once more. Robbing you of pleasure and experience in equal measure.

But when Steve comes bounding back to the bed, dragging back the covers to join you beneath them, you speak first.

"So, that didn't suck." You say excitedly, biting back your grin as Steve settles down beside you.

Together, you share one pillow as he scooches in closer. His hands reach out, searching for you amongst the sheets. When he finds your hips, he uses them to drag you closer to him, a halfhearted cuddle.

He lets out a puff of air against the pillow, a light snort. "I mean, hopefully it didn't just not suck."

If you had more energy, you might give him a playful shove because you know he knows what you mean. He'd seen the whole display of nervous emotions attached to sex all the way leading up to it.

Instead, heart feeling awfully gooey in your chest, you seize the opportunity to press in closer to him. Your head tucks beneath his chin, your lips barely grazing his throat.

"It was really good." You whisper, lashes fluttering as your eyes fight to stay open. Steve's warm on a good day. He's hot as a furnace with all the blood that's pumping around still. Perfect for snuggling up with.

"Yeah?" He sounds delightfully pleased, but not the smug kind. He sounds happy that you enjoyed it.

Then he whispers, "Told you it wasn't you."

His big palm sweeps up your back soothingly.

He's right. You've never been so glad to be on the receiving end of an I told you so before. Not that Steve would say that (at least, not right now).

Cuddling in closer, you wriggle one hand out from beneath the covers, not bothering to pull back or open your eyes when you murmur, "Just had sex high-five?"

You can feel Steve's laugh as it rumbles through his throat. It's an inside joke now, it seems.

"Hell yeah." He wiggles one hand free and slaps it against yours, probably a little harder than necessary. You laugh too, the sound a mixture of joy and sleep.

And yeah, okay, you might get it now. The whole big fuss around sex that everyone seems to make—but maybe you don't entirely agree with them.

There was something more in the... trust. In knowing that Steve wouldn't have cared which way it happened, as long as you were both enjoying it. In the intimacy shared, even before you had ever slept together. In the waiting. In the wanting—for both yourself and for Steve.

There's some grandeur discovery you've uncovered, you're sure of it, about the mystery and craze around sex. You just keep losing the string of thoughts to your slumber which drifts ever closer.

Oh well. You can always put it all together in the morning when you're not so tempted by sleep and bundled up in the arms of a boy who you love. For now, you drift off, fulfilled and content.

tags below! (seven months later...)

@roanniom @madaboutjoe @huang-the-geek @pootcullen @superskittles

@hales-who-loves-to-reid @spear-bearing-bi-witch @daisiesandinvasives @season4steve @thelauraborealis

@mmmunson @everythinghasafacee @katethetank @sorry--for-the-mess @matterdontminduntildone

@blowing-mikey @astoryreader @mulletmcghee @sugarcoatedstarkey @pullhisteeth

(these are just the ppl in the tags that mentioned wanting to be tagged! if i know u follow me and are a regular, i didn't bother tagging u cos i know you'll see it hehehe <3)

[katsu28]

oscar's a grouch (or is he?)

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: to your knowledge, oscar piastri really doesn't like you. but a night out in monaco makes you realize that maybe you don't know oscar's feelings towards you quite as well as you think you do. (3.7k)

warnings: swearing, unwanted advances from a man (not oscar, don't worry), a smidge of landoscar if u squint really hard

a/n: idk about y'all but this summer break is killing me 😭 i just wanna see my boys on track again is that too much to ask. anyways here's some oscar bc he's been giving literal crumbs lately (except for casually mentioning his broken fucking rib)

You’re not even sure what you're celebrating tonight. 

All you know is Lando called you a few hours ago demanding you come to some club with him and a few of his other driver friends, and who were you to deny yourself a fun night out? Especially one where you can put all your drinks on Lando’s tab. (You’re not a gold digger—Lando refuses to let you pay for most things when you go out because he, and you quote, ‘makes a shit ton of money, so why not use it’.) 

Now you’re here, sipping the last of your third (fourth maybe?) drink of the night until there’s nothing but ice. 

The music blasting through the club is so loud you feel the bass thumping in your chest, and it only gets louder when you venture through the crowd in search of the group you came with.

Somehow you’d gotten separated, but it’s really not too hard to locate them. All you have to do is look for a very tall, very polite looking British man a head taller than everyone else, and then you’ve found George Russell.

He spots you too, beckoning you over into the VIP section with a cool nod of his head. All the other drivers are around too—Carlos winks at you over the rather brightly patterned mini umbrella in his drink, Max tips his glass at you as you make your way by. 

Charles and Oscar sit together on a sofa further into the section, seeming deep in conversation, but look up as you pass them. The Monegasque reaches up to give you a fist bump, and Oscar just blinks at you, taking a measured swig of his beer. You fight the urge to sigh at his standoffishness. 

Over the years, Lando’s friends have quickly become your friends too, but Oscar Piastri is an enigma you have yet to crack. You know he’s on the quieter side because Lando had warned you of it before you’d met Oscar for the first time, but you weren’t expecting completely and totally icy.

The Oscar that Lando always talks about excitedly is an entirely different person than the Oscar you’ve become familiar with. 

It seems like he can barely look you in the eye whenever you try to make small talk with him, and you don’t think you’ve ever been alone with him because he always finds a way to slip away before you can even try to make a genuine connection with him. 

What makes things even better (read: worse) is that despite all that, you’ve grown a small crush on Oscar. You’re not sure how, and you’re not sure why, but that doesn’t make your feelings any less real. You’ve accepted that this is just the way things will always be with him, you with a pesky crush and him not wanting anything to do with you. 

You find Lando quickly, bopping around to the beat of the song playing without a care in the world. He looks like he’s having the time of his life, and when he spots you, he positively beams, waving wildly at you. 

“Hey, you!” He exclaims. “How are you? I love you!” 

“I love you too!” You chuckle. “I was gonna get another drink, d’you want anything?” 

“What?” He yells, brows furrowing. “You’re gonna dye your hair pink?”

“Another drink, dummy! Do you want another drink?” You make sure he’s looking at you this time, over-enunciating your words, so he’ll understand them. He narrows his eyes at you in the dim lighting but gets the gist of your question, perking up at the possibility of yet another drink. 

“More vodka shots, baby! One for you, one for me! No, one for everyone!” He giggles, slinging an arm around your shoulders.

His movement is so enthusiastic he nearly tips the two of you over, stumbling on his feet clumsily. You’re quick to push him back into an upright position, grimacing with effort as you trudge over to the nearest sofa and deposit him onto the seat unceremoniously. 

“Oh, this is nice,” He sighs, stroking the leather dreamily. “I should—I should get one of these for my place. D’you think they’d let me take it home?” 

“I really don’t think so, Lan,” You reply, amused. “Stay here. Don’t leave this sofa.” 

Lando groans, tilting his head back against the cushions. “Okay, mum. God!” 

Right, so maybe he doesn’t need those extra shots after all. 

You shoot him one more stern look before leaving him behind and heading for the bar, quietly tasking Carlos with making sure Lando doesn’t do anything stupid while you’re gone. 

There’s an empty spot at the bar when you approach, and you slide in, fingers tapping on the countertop idly as you wait for the bartender to finish up other drinks. 

“Hey.” 

You glance to your left to see a man you don’t recognize, smiling at you.

“Hi.” You say back, pressing your lips into a polite smile. You’re hoping that’ll be the end of the conversation, because you’re not really in the mood to be talking to someone you don’t know when all you’re trying to do is order something. 

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone in a club like this?” His eyes rake over you from head to toe as he says it, shamelessly checking you out with a glint in his eye that makes you feel dirty. 

You take a small, calculated step backward, and much to your dismay, he takes that as an invitation to inch forward. “I’m with a group of friends.” 

“Are they all as attractive as you?” He must think he’s being smooth, but it just makes you even more uncomfortable. 

“Pretty sure they’re not your type,” You reply flatly. “Unless you’re into dudes.” 

The man’s nostrils flare, like you’re accusing him of something absurd. “I’m not. I’ve only dated girls. Really hot girls.” 

“Uh…good for you? I don’t really—” 

“What’s your name? I bet it’s something sexy.” 

“Y’know, my friends are probably wondering where I am, so I’m just gonna—” 

“What’s the rush, sweetheart? I’m just trying to get to know you,” He drawls, stroking clammy fingers over the back of your hand. You yank it away, reaching up to adjust the strap of your top just so he wasn’t touching you anymore. Maybe a little bit harsh, but the vibe you’re getting from him isn’t good at all. 

“I have a boyfriend,” You reply stiffly. It’s a boldfaced lie, but you're hoping you sound convincing enough to get this guy off your case. He’s starting to make you nervous. 

He takes an overdramatic look at your surroundings before focusing back on you, shrugging. “I don’t see one.” 

As if the universe is presenting you with a way out, you spot Oscar walking by at that very second, and before you can think you're grabbing his hand, tugging him towards you. He comes willingly, but looks slightly confused as you tuck yourself close to him.

He’s definitely not your first choice, but right now you don't think you can afford to be picky. At least it's someone you know. 

You pop up on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck, lips almost pressed to his cheek as you whisper, “Please play along.”

His eyes flick between you and your unwanted conversation partner, and for a moment you think he might blow your cover, but he slides an arm around you after you turn back around, resting his hand on the small of your back. 

You force yourself to ignore the effect it has on you, instead opting to press a little more into his side. His torso is firm under your trembling hands, tense if anything, but the steady rise and fall of his level breathing provides comfort. 

“We got a problem here, mate?” Oscar’s voice sounds more serious than you've ever heard it, and when you look up at him, he looks downright scary.  He towers over both you and the guy you're desperately trying to get rid of, brow furrowed, jaw set. You’re glad that look has never been aimed at you.

The guy shifts nervously on his feet, but still holds his ground. Not a good idea, anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that. “No problems, just trying to have a friendly conversation.” 

“Doesn’t look very friendly to me. Looks like you’re bothering my girlfriend.” 

“Dunno what to tell you, mate. We were just chatting, weren’t we, sweetheart?” 

You wrinkle your nose in disgust, feeling safe enough to do so tucked under Oscar’s arm like you are right now. This guy might be a fucking creep, but he’s not stupid enough to go up against Oscar. “No.” 

He glowers at you, and you feel Oscar’s palm come around, curling around your waist protectively. “Seems like that’s settled then. I reckon you should leave now.” Oscar’s tone leaves absolutely no room for discussion.

Is it wrong that you find it hot? 

“Fine. Don’t need to waste my time on bitches anyways.” 

Oscar stiffens. He moves forward like he’s about to throw a punch, but you’re quicker, splaying your palm over his very sturdy chest to stop him before he does anything rash. You don’t think it’ll go over too well with McLaren higher ups if they learn that one of their drivers got into a fight at a club. 

“He’s not worth it, Osc,” You say softly. He looks down at you, sees the look in your eyes, and his posture relaxes just a little bit. You’re not sure how long the two of you hold each other’s gaze, but when you finally tear your eyes away from his, the guy is long gone. 

Only then do you step away from Oscar, straightening yourself out as much as you can given how things could’ve ended had he not been there to save your ass. He steps away too. With the guy no longer around, there’s no reason for you to be that close together. 

“You alright?” He mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. Even in the dim lighting of the club, you can see how red his cheeks are. 

“Yeah. Fine. That guy was just really freaking me out.” 

“Are you sure? That you’re okay, I mean. ‘Cause yeah, that guy was a creep.” 

“Total creep,” You agree, bobbing your head. “But I’m sure. I’m, uh, I’m sorry for putting you on the spot like that. I don’t know what I would’ve done had you not been there, so…thank you. I know it was probably a little hard for you, but thanks anyways.” 

That last part was likely not necessary, but you’re a smidge tipsy right now. You’ll blame your loose lips on the alcohol. 

Oscar’s brow pinches in the middle, head tilting in confusion. “What?” 

“Pretending to be my boyfriend. Pretending to like me.” 

“Why would that be hard for me?” 

“Uh, I dunno, maybe ‘cause you don’t.” 

“You—wait, you think I don’t like you?” Oscar looks truly befuddled at your insinuation, and you frown, because from your side of things, it’s pretty damn clear. 

“I’m not, like, upset or hurt, or anything. You have a right to dislike whoever you want, I don’t care,” You shrug, craning your neck to look for the bartender. 

“It’s not true.” 

You hum absentmindedly, not really paying attention to his words. Where was that damn bartender? You need that drink, now. Oscar’s fingers wrap around your forearm loosely, but tight enough to grab your attention again. “What?” 

“I don’t…not like you.” 

“I said I don’t care, Oscar. You don’t have to try and make me feel better. It’s fine,” You assure him. You really wish he’d stop pushing the subject. “Just drop it, yeah? Thanks for the save, you can go back to the group now.” 

He regards you blankly for a long few seconds, then he opens his mouth, and just when you think he’s about to say something, it snaps shut. Then he pivots on his heel and starts to walk away. You roll your eyes, turning back to the bar. After all this, you definitely need another drink. Preferably a strong one. 

Maybe you’ll get those shots Lando wanted after all. 

The bartender finally spots you and you sigh in relief, glad and ready to finally get what you came for, but before you can get a word out, you’re being dragged away by the hand. 

You nearly scream, your mind jumping to the worst conclusion before your gaze lands on the same broad shoulders, the same head of brown hair that had just left you not seconds ago. It’s Oscar pulling you through the crowd, and even though you’re beyond relieved, you’re also confused and a little bit pissed off. 

“What’re you—hey! Oscar!” You have to shout over the pulsing music, but either he can’t hear you or he’s choosing to ignore you, because he doesn’t stop. 

He muscles through the crowd with surprising ease with you stumbling along behind him until you’re outside the club, in some sort of private patio area. There’s no one else out here and you’re glad for it, because you have half a mind to yell at him.

Oscar drops your hand, running his fingers through his hair, and when he looks up, you detect confliction in those big brown eyes of his. It almost derails your thought process, but you scowl. 

“What is your problem?” You snap, folding your arms over your chest angrily. 

“You think I don’t like you.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, pinching the bridge of your nose. “This again? Fucking hell, I told you to forget about it, Oscar. I meant that.” 

“No, I’m not gonna—you said it, so you obviously meant it. I wanna know why,” He insists. “Why do you think I don’t like you?” 

“Maybe because you haven’t exactly given me anything else to go off of? You always brush me off when I try to talk to you, and when I do get you to have a conversation with me, you can barely look me in the eye. And I swear, it’s like you find every excuse to not be around me.” 

You can’t resist the urge to allow a slightly bitter sounding laugh escape you because, fuck, no matter how many times you tell yourself that you don’t care what Oscar thinks of you, that you don’t give a crap about how it looks like he’s only this way with you, you do care. 

You care so much it makes you want to scream into the void. You shouldn’t care, but you do. 

“So you can say that it’s not true, you can tell me I’m wrong all you want, but I’m just telling it as I see it.” 

Oscar blinks at you again in that way he always does when you talk, the way that makes you want to smack him upside the head but also kiss him senseless too, just to see if he’d react differently. 

“I’m an idiot,” He says. You press your lips together. There won’t be any denying that fact from you. 

He groans, tipping his back towards the sky. “I’m an idiot. It’s not because I don’t like you. It’s—” He pauses, sighing. Crossing his arms, uncrossing them, weighing his options. “It’s because I do like you. A lot. I like you to the point where I don’t know how to act around you without the fear I might do or say something stupid, and then you’ll think I’m a dickhead.” 

“So you thought completely icing me out was…you not being a dickhead?” 

He wrinkles his nose, like he's just realized what his actions must’ve looked like to an outside party. “Oh. That’s not what I meant to….fuck, you must think I’m such a—”

“Dickhead?” You supply helpfully. He nods, shoulders slumping. 

You’re used to long stretches of silence with Oscar, but this one feels different. Now that you know he doesn’t totally hate your guts, the silence isn’t totally unbearable. He steps closer, watching you, gauging your reaction to his movements like you’re some sort of unpredictable creature. 

If anything, Oscar’s the unpredictable one. 

“So…” You start, tilting your head. “You like me?” 

Oscar exhales sharply, nodding. “Guess it might be a bit of a shocker, but I do.”  

“And you already know I like you.” 

“I’ve noticed, yeah,” He says, lips quirking up into a small smile. “What do we do now?”

“Maybe we take things slow. Get to know each other first, ‘cause I dunno if you’ve noticed, but one of us spent a lot of time ignoring the other,” You lilt, half joking. Oscar rolls his eyes playfully, but nods his agreement nonetheless. “I think for now, we should get back inside. I’ve got to make sure Lando hasn’t tried to steal the sofa from right out the section.” 

Oscar’s nose scrunches, head cocking to the side in bewilderment. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it another time.” 

“How about tomorrow over dinner?” He blurts, running a hand through his hair. It flops right back into place, one stray curl hanging over his forehead that he doesn’t seem to notice as he smiles hopefully at you. 

“I’d like that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Duh.” 

His smile grows bigger, pushing up his cheeks so much it makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. You’ve never been the receiver of this smile before, and now that you are, you never want him to stop smiling at you like this. “Okay. Okay, cool. I’ll text you.” 

“Don’t you need my number for that?” 

“Oh, I’ve uh, I’ve got it already. I nabbed it from Lando’s phone a while ago. Just in case I gathered up the courage to message you. Which I didn’t, as you could probably tell,” He replied, letting out a breathy chuckle. “I wanted to though. I just—I didn’t know what to say.” 

“How’d you get into his phone?” 

He snorts this time, raising a brow at you. “His password’s 4444. Not exactly mission impossible.” 

You really need to have a talk with your friend about Internet safety one of these days. 

The aforementioned friend throws his hands up into the air when he spots you making your way back into the section as soon as you re-enter the club, bouncing over to you to wrap you in a giant hug. Lando mumbles something you can’t understand into your ear and giggles, then spots Oscar lingering behind you and positively screeches, reaching to pull him into the hug too. 

You don’t have time to get your arms out of where they’re trapped against your sides in Lando’s surprisingly vice-like grip before Oscar stumbles forward into your back at his friend’s harsh tug, cheek smushing against the top of your head. The muttered sorry he offers you does nothing to quell your rocket fast heartbeat at being this close to him for the first time.

“Look at us!” Lando hiccups, squeezing you both as tight as he can. Not an easy feat when you’re hugging two people at once. He bumps his forehead against yours gently to draw your attention back to him. (More like lightly headbutted, but you remain un-concussed so you won’t hold it against him.) “Hey, you’re in a papaya sandwich!” 

Oscar’s low chuckle vibrates through his chest and you feel it rumble through you too. You also feel his pinky curl around your own, thumb pressing against the inside of your wrist tenderly. 

It’s a subtle gesture, one that might not seem like much to anyone else, but you’ve gone from sort of acquaintances to something a little more than friends in the span of less than an hour.

Are you even friends now? You can’t even answer that. You like him and he likes you, but the only time you’ve ever spent together has been around other people. 

Still, only two points of contact—you’re not even holding hands and you think you might spontaneously combust. 

But you have to play it cool. 

The good thing about drunk Lando is that his attention span is close to zero, so he quickly grows bored of sandwiching you into a McLaren hug and wanders off again, most likely in search of another drink. You feel like it would be a good idea to stop him but you plop onto the nearest couch instead, letting your head tip against the back of it. 

To your surprise, Oscar motions for you to scooch over, slotting himself into the extra space you create. There’s a respectful distance left between yourselves, but then he leans towards you to be heard over the music.

“Your pulse was racing.” 

“Gee, I wonder why,” You muse. “Definitely not because of how I feel about you.” 

“Ha ha. You’re funny.” 

“See what you’ve been missing out on all this time?” You joke, head lolling to the side to grin at him. 

“I see it.” He’s looking at you unabashedly already, eyes drinking you in like he’s parched and you’re water. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, and god, you want to kiss him so bad right now. 

Instead you take a deep breath, fixing him to the spot with a pointed look. “Stop staring, or you’ll draw attention.” 

Oscar startles like he wasn’t aware he was staring that hard at you, mumbling out another apology before retreating back to his own bubble of space stiffly. 

You feel a tad guilty now. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but you and Oscar haven’t even begun to understand what you are to each other yet, and the last thing you want is the driver rumor mill to start spinning its wheels about your budding relationship before you even knew if there was going to be a relationship. It’s the kind of thing you want to keep under wraps until the two of you figure things out. 

Sighing lightly, you slide your hand along the empty space separating you, curling your pinky around his the same way he did earlier. Part of you expects he’ll shy away, so when he reciprocates the action, you’re pleasantly relieved. 

There’s still quite a bit of getting to know each other to be done, but you’re excited to see what this next chapter with Oscar holds.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[chososdiscordkitten]

Synopsis: The first time Toji Says 'ily'(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Pairing: Toji x GN!Reader Content; smut nd Fluff, penetrative sex, soft!toji propaganda

MDNI

Toji was never a man who expressed his true feelings with words. Often trying to keep a stoic, unamused face whenever you’d talk to him. 

But when you stumble over your words- following them with a shy giggle. It always made the corner of Toji’s lip curl up in a small smile. 

Preferring to show his feelings in his actions rather than words.

At night when he would place his head on your chest- holding you close subconsciously.

Even with a firm spank on your ass with a small grunt- his way of telling you how good you looked.

Leading to you being the one who first said, ‘I love you.’ You had a suspicion he wouldn’t say the words back. Even if they were just words.

But he saw that you loved him long before you said them. How you’d hold his calloused hands in yours, gently kissing the rough tips of his fingers to show him that it was fine that they were rough. 

How insistent you were when kissing him—always making sure to kiss the little scar on his lip first. This was a small act Toji never knew he needed until you did it—“Reminds me that you’re strong,” you explained. 

He tried not to let it affect him, being so used to being treated rough and well set enough to not to be held with caution. But you always touched him like he was delicate—even if he wasn’t. 

Your hands hardly took on an aggressive grasp with him- always gently caressing his skin with your fingertips. 

That was part of why he fought with the infiltrating thoughts in his mind- how kind you could be to him.  

And Toji was never the kind to lie, especially about such a serious topic. So, instead of lying, he didn’t say them. 

Instead of saying those three words back to you, he would only offer a hum in return. Knowing if he said anything like ‘okay’ or ‘thanks,’ it would sound smug and heartless. 

Toji was aware he liked you—perhaps a smidge more than like—but he had just come to terms with saying he liked you. 

There were times when he would look at you and feel a slight tinge in his chest- almost like a shock of pain, but it was gone in an instant. 

He was aware of the feeling and what it meant, but he refused to even think about it, chalking it up to heartburn or a heart palpitation.

The revelation only snapped in his mind one late evening. 

Tired, hazy eyes looking at your face- one knee hooked on his forearm with your back flush against the bed. 

Kept a slow slopping pace with his hips- watching your expression churn with every deep roll of his hips he did. His mind was blank and focused on finishing so he could go to sleep. 

Heavily breathing and looking at your body- feeling his cheeks tingle knowing you were all his. That no one would ever be graced with seeing you this way. 

Throwing his head back, straightening his back, and closing his eyes. Warmth shivering down his spine as his lips moved without permission. 

‘I love you.’ he whispered. That’s all it took to start spilling himself inside of you with a breathy grunt. 

When the words registered in his mind, he snapped his head down to look at you- to see if you had heard him.

Only you were caught up in your own orgasm to hear his illegible confession. 

That night, Toji stayed up, thinking about whether he really meant the words he said or if they were just words.

Looking at you for a few seconds every time he heard you take a deep breath in your sleep. Pinched eyebrows in worry as he thought of the words he said. 

Pondering if he really loved you- 

The relationship started as just a one-night stand, not expecting to see you ever again. But out of the many- you were the only one who stuck around after. 

The one who managed to make him break his unamused farce- and actually managed to make him crack a small chuckle. 

No label was placed on what you had- Toji just knew you had come to love him. Scars, baggage, rough spots, and all. And Toji knew the possibility of loving you was very real. And scared for it to be.  

After that, he looked at you with a bordering on mortified expression- anytime you’d ask him something, fearing you were just cruel enough to pretend you didn’t hear him and tease him for it later. 

But you didn’t—you pretended not to notice that Toji looked at you differently now. He no longer saw a person he kind of liked. Toji looked at you with terrified eyes now, knowing he didn’t just kind of like you. He loved you. 

What Toji didn’t know was that you did hear his small proclamation. But knowing how standoffish he was when it came to feelings, you chose not to acknowledge it until he had the guts to repeat it. 

You could see how much it had plagued him thinking about it. 

Mornings where you’d leave for work and kiss him goodbye, “Love you-” you’d grin before leaving. Watching his lips part to say it back with tense shoulders. But he never said it- too afraid it would come out shy and embarrassed. 

One thing Toji did not want- is for you to look at him as shy or embarrassed. 

But on one night- making dinner and thralling your hands onto his shoulders. Looking up at him- sick and tired of him holding back his feelings.

Toji’s hands instinctively landed on your hips- looking at you with a raised brow. 

“You like me?” You murmured, caressing his nape with your thumb ever so slightly. 

He pouted his lip, trying to fight off the warmth rising to his cheeks. “I already told you I did,” he scoffed, watching your smile show your intentions. 

“How much though?” you pressed, eyes low and with a goal in mind. 

Toji rolled his eyes, giving you a light squeeze on your ass mindlessly- thinking it over. 

“Do you like me the way you like…” thinking of a non-filthy thing to say- “Gambling?” 

Toji scoffed- “Meh, you’re alright.” you parted your lips at his refusal to answer. Even more so because he said you were just ‘alright.’ 

You decided to abandon the topic for now, knowing that if you pressed even harder, he would keep making little sarcastic comments like that. 

Later that night, you were watching a show, sitting on the couch with Toji’s head on your lap. Playing with his hair with one hand and the other on his chest as you focused on the TV show. 

You were unaware of his eyes looking up at you- ignoring the action noises from the TV as you scoffed. 

Sucking your teeth before, “So fuckin’ stupid!” looking down at Toji, bewilderment in your expression. “They’re running this show into the ground.” you looked down at his face. Noticing his brow was unfurrowed, and his lips parted. 

Squinting your eyes with a feigned severity, “...What?” you mumbled, looking at his soft expression. Halting your hand movements.

Inhaling softly with gentle eyes, “I love you.” he murmured. A tone so soft you don’t think you had ever heard it from him. Widening his eyes when he realized what he had said. 

It felt as though the world went silent after you heard those words- looking into his eyes and feeling his heart beat quicker against your hand. 

“I love you too.” you whispered, cheeks warm and eyebrows pinched.

Though you wanted to jump up and down in happiness- ecstatic Toji was finally coming to terms with his feelings. 

All you did was press a kiss down to his lips- some assurance that you wouldn’t tease him for it. 

Leaning back up and continuing the soft movement with your hand, you looked back up at the TV, not even bothering to try to focus on what was happening. Too giddy from Toji’s confession.

Those words started being spoken more and more often now-

The goodbyes you’d bid Toji in the mornings before work, “Love you.” you’d mutter, pressing a kiss to his cheek and hearing a quiet-

“Love you.” he whispered back into the air in a gruff tone. 

Mornings sitting across from him, drinking coffee and basking in each other’s presence. 

Looking up from your phone and admiring his expression- “I love you.” you muttered. Watching Toji’s eyebrows furrow and look at you bewildered. 

He looked back down at his coffee cup. “Love you,” he muttered with a pouty lip.

And at night- His arms holding your knees wide. Deep thrusts paired with an occasional grunt in your ear. 

Your hands gripping his shoulders and biceps- moaning his name as his heavy breathing warmed your ear. 

“I love you.” he groaned against your cartilage- his thrusts were firmer and full of passion. Whimpering in response as he rode into an orgasm. 

And every deep roll of his hips- whispering the words repeatedly. One after the other in tandem with every loving thrust.

“I love you.” 

-

(a.n) got cavities from writing this

[lincolndjarin]

Pretty in Pink

main masterlist ✧ kinktober masterlist ✦

kinktober : day three - afab!reader x no-outbreak!joel miller

prompt : breeding [ 18+ mdni ]

word count : 1.5k

summary : you and joel have been trying for a baby for a while now, you're skeptical when you get advice from a friend but you're willing to try anything at this point.

warnings, etc. : fluffy, smut, praise, joel 'breeding kink' miller, p in v, unprotected sex, lingerie, creampie, pregnancy talk, this is just a quick little porny fluffy drabble lmao

a/n : yippee! happy 3rd day of oct!! def expect a lot of days switching around lmao, i'm just going w the flow lol

You stare at the bathroom mirror, you feel a little ridiculous but you know he’s had a hard week and at this point you’ll do anything to help him relax. So you put on the pink satin nightie your friend had convinced you he’d love. You put on a bit of makeup before opening the door a smidge.

“Close your eyes.” You sound like a child the way you whine. 

“You’re killin’ me darlin’.” 

“Please?”

“Okay, okay.” You can practically hear the way he holds his hands up in defeat. 

You’re learning the hard way that trying for a baby is a long and arduous task. With Sarah in highschool, and Ellie in elementary, you’ve agreed now is as good a time as any to try for one more. The only problem is you haven’t been feeling great about how long it’s taking. You’re easily discouraged despite how willing Joel seems to try as often and as hard as possible to knock you up. 

So when your friend who is currently six months along offered to give you some advice you were more than willing to sit down at a nearby mall and talk. You’d expected to hear the usual technical jargon. Track your cycle, avoid using lube, and reduce your caffeine intake. You’ve been doing all of that and more for months now with no luck but much to your surprise she had only one piece of advice. 

“Have fun with it.” 

It sounded absurd to you but she kept on explaining. Telling you that it was important that you were both comfortable and enjoying yourselves, it helped her to try new things. You tried to explain to her that Joel was old fashioned, he didn’t like new things. He liked you naked and in a bed, nothing fancy involved. 

Your friend of course didn’t seem convinced, dragging you to Victoria Secret, insisting that the sheer little pink thing you’d settled on was perfect. 

Except it doesn’t feel perfect. 

Because now you actually have to show him and you’re pretty sure he’s just going to have you take it off immediately and you’ll feel like an idiot and this will all be for nothing. 

You take a few steps out of the bathroom, he’s sitting on the bed, back against the headboards as move towards him. wringing your hands nervously. He looks like he always does. Handsome, and in his boxers and navy blue shirt. You’re beside him now and you’re just about to lose your nerve. 

“Nevermind this is stupid.” You blurt out as he opens his eyes. You give him an apologetic smile as he looks you up and down. You turn around, wanting to just change and forget any of this happened as he grabs you by your arm, pulling you onto the bed. 

“Not stupid, not stupid at all.” He stares at you, infatuated as he pulls you onto his lap. He takes a bit of the see through fabric in his hands, running it through his fingers. “S’pretty.”

“Really? You like it?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I thought you didn’t like this kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing? Pretty things? I like you, why wouldn't I like this.” Your face gets hot as he lifts the fabric, running a finger along the hem of the matching pink panties. 

“You really like it?” Your face is getting hotter by the second as he drags you forward by your hips so you can feel his hard on straining through his boxers. 

“Like it so much.” He rocks his hips up against you with a groan. “Such a- fuck, such a pretty color.” He hooks a finger onto the crotch of your panties, pulling them to the side as he ruts up against you, watching with hungry eyes as you soak the front of his underwear. He usually spends quite a bit of time warming you up but now he seems wildly impatient as he pulls his dick out over the band of his boxers along with his balls. “Want you to wear this more often, s’nice.” 

“Th-thanks.” You stammer out as he guides his cock into you as you sit up on your knees. 

“Sit down, sugar, take it all, I know you can do it.” Once he nudges the first couple of inches into you he brings his hands back to the sheer fabric. You do as he says, taking your time until you’re fully impaled on it, the two of you moaning in unison. 

“Oh, Joel.” You whisper, feeling the blunt head of his cock bump against your cervix. 

“Bet this would be even prettier stretched over a round belly.” He squeezes your hips, leveraging you down onto him as he thrusts up into you. You’ve never seen him so worked up as his hips jolt up into you, his breathing going unsteady. He’s never been one to talk during the deed, usually all you can get out of him is a few grunts and curses but now he seemingly can’t stop mumbling to himself as he marvels at the way the pick fabric clings to you in some places while flowing freely in others. “Can’t wait to have you bouncing on my cock when you’ve got your bump.” The sudden vulgarity from him shoots sparks through your veins as you slowly start moving, raising and dropping your hips, reveling in the feeling of him filling you completely as he bunches up the fabric a bit, pulling it out of the way so he can watch you take him. 

“Joel please-” You whine, your hands go to the headboard behind him to steady yourself. “Please touch me.” He enthusiastically obliges, one hand going to your clit while the other palms at your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers over the thin fabric. He leans forward, pulling your breast out of the nightie, sucking the tender flesh. 

“These are gonna get bigger too.” He mumbles against your tit, your hips stutter as he sinks his teeth into the swollen nub. “Gonna be so round- and soft.” He sucks your nipple back into his mouth, his fingers picking up speed between your legs as you feel your stomach getting tight, your breath going ragged as you slam your hips down on him, pressing him deep against the spot inside of you that makes you see stars. “Come on- fuck, fucking take it.” He growls as he pops his mouth off of you, pulling you into a kiss as you chase the feeling inside of you, moaning against him until in one sharp motion you seat yourself on him completely, sending yourself over that edge. 

His lips move from your mouth to your chin, then cheeks, then forehead, he kisses you everywhere as you work yourself through your orgasm, everything going tense as that white hot fire ripples through your veins. 

When you come down from your high your legs feel like jelly and you honestly aren’t sure you’re gonna be able to keep going but thankfully he takes matters into his own hands, planting his feet on the mattress firmly behind you as he wraps his arms around your torso to keep you upright. He fucks up into you, his pace brutal and unrelenting as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

“Gonna fill up this pretty pussy, make you a mama.” He murmurs against the sensitive skin of your throat, his thrusts quickly becoming clumsy as he groans. He’s quick to follow you, his cock pulses and you can feel him spill against your walls, his demeanor softens with his prick as he rubs his nose against yours. “I love you s’much.” He mumbles, gently lifting you, helping you off his lap as you lay beside him. 

You take a moment, catching your breath as he leaves the room, returning quickly with a glass of water, handing it to you as he turns the lights off, crawling into the blankets with you as you lay your head on his chest. 

“Love you.” He says quietly, giving you a quick kiss that you know means good night as he settles in.

You sit in silence for a few minutes before sighing mostly to yourself. 

“What if this doesn’t work? Like ever?” You whisper into the darkness, curling yourself up closer to him.

You expect him to be asleep, or to brush you off, and to tell you that it will. Instead he just pulls you closer.

“Then we’ll keep trying. And if it doesn’t work then we’ll look into other options. I went through the adoption process once already, it should be easier the second time around.” He kisses your forehead and you feel him relax, you know he’ll be asleep in a few minutes. You’re just happy he’s willing to validate your worries. 

“Good night, love you.” You murmur, you really do mean it. 

He’s right. You’ll keep trying, and if it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen. There’s no way to know if you’re pregnant or not until then. (Although Joel isn’t all that surprised when you take a test two weeks later and are met with two blue lines.)

a/n : for the first time ever i actually like something i wrote lol

[riiwrites]

“Go for it, Itadori!”

SUMMARY : it seems the sunshine of jujutsu high has developed feelings for you! such a shame you’re a little too clueless to realise it though. oh well, looks like he’ll have to turn to his friends for advice!

GENRE : fluff with a smidge of angst!

A/N : i am currently starting up a new taglist specifically for jjk, so please click on the taglist link and specify what you want to be tagged in for future posts. this is my first time writing for jjk so please be polite, i was a bit wary on starting something new. enjoy!

masterlist | taglist | main page

Ever since Yuji Itadori had laid eyes on you he knew he was in for it.

You had timidly walked in with your jujutsu uniform on, twiddling with your fingers in a nervous manner as you looked down at them wary and all.

He just thought you looked oh so cute.

So when he hears he’ll be tagging along with you in missions, he knew that was the perfect way to start.

“Hey!” He calls out to you as you’re packing up your things when everyone begins to leave the classroom. “Im Yuji, Yuji Itadori!” He extends his hand.

You turn to look at him and you take a moment to study his face, his cheerful eyes full of so much light you swear you can feel the light radiating off of them. You can’t help but crack a little smile, meeting his hand with yours as you shake it gently.

“Y/N, Y/N L/N.” You say softly, and he swears he could just melt from how sweet you speak. He already knows your name from when Gojo introduced you to the rest of the class, but you could repeat your name over and over again and he would never get bored of it.

A few months go by and you two are as close as ever. You are constantly with eachother no matter the occasion and have become completely inseparable.

Megumi and Nobara begin to notice it too. They think it’s sweet, sure. But they can’t help but notice how Yujis cheeks light a certain shade of pink everytime you look his way..

“So, what’s the deal with you and Y/N?” Nobara blurts out randomly. Luckily, you weren’t able to attend the little hangout your friends had invited you to, so you weren’t able to hear into this excruciating and painful conversation Nobara was about to have with Yuji.

Yuji looks up from his dessert he was eating, eyes blown wide with a frozen look on his face, visibly not expecting this sudden question. “Um, I don’t..follow..”

“Oh you know exactly what I mean, Itadori!” Nobara huffs, her eyebrows furrowing as she crossed her arms, clearly not backing down from this until she gets thorough answers. “I see the way you look at her, so does Fushiguro.”

“I do..?” Megumi questions with a slightside glance, seemingly only piecing together what’s going on right now. Nobara sighs loudly as she leans back in the booth chair. “Seriously? Try to keep up, Fushiguro..”

“H-hey now I don’t understand! You don’t get to just make up assumptions about me that you obviously know nothing about?!” Yuji stands up from his seat dramatically, evidently flustered at this sudden attack.

“Oh yeah? And what assumptions that?” Nobara asks with a raised eyebrow.

“That I like Y/N!! I don’t!!”

“I never said anything about you liking them?”

Silence fills the small cafe as shame and embarrassment creeps up on Yuji like an insect.

“..Oh.”

So yeah, he’s not sly with it.

With that established, Nobara and Megumi (by force) made it their duty to hype Yuji up so he can confess and you two can be together.

Now see, Yuji had saw signs beforehand that you may reciprocate the same feelings. You fidgeted more than normal, you also had that same tinted patch on pink on your cheeks when you see him, and your eyes light up with the same amount of sparkle as his when you speak to him.

What? He notices!

So when he finally musters up enough courage to confess that he likes you whilst you two are out together at your favourite boba shop, it’s safe to say he was rather shocked at the response you give him.

“Huh? I already know that Yuji!”

He shoots his head up to look at you, eyes as wide as a grape as he blinks numerous times.

“S-say what now?!”

“Yeah! Otherwise you wouldn’t be my friend!”

Whoop, there it is.

“..R-right! Yeah! Just wanted to be clear..!”

Safe to say, he’s super embarrassed. I mean, can you blame him? You just friend-zoned the poor boy into oblivion! So, when he gets home, he turns to another friend for advice.

“Listen, brother. You just have to show them what you’re all about!” Todo says with a confident look. “Show them what all that trainings been for, eh?!” He flexes his muscles, to which Yuji gives him a dreadful look.

“I don’t wanna make them uncomfortable!” Yuji argues.

“What? Brother a little flexing won’t hurt anybody!”

Yuji had little hope holding out for Todo, but he supposed a little advice was better than none. With Todo’s last words ringing in his mind, he set off the next morning with a confident look and chest held high.

“Go for it, brother!”

The next morning came and you and Yuji were currently on your way in Ijichi’s car to a local neighbourhood which held a limited number of cursed spirits that were tormenting the citizens. You both sat next to eachother as you chatted to him.

“So, did you get home safely?” You ask him, referring to last night after the ‘boba tea friend-zone’ incident.

“Oh! Uh, yeah totally.” He says with a faux chill tone, looking out the window as he places his hand on the back of his neck. “I actually got into a fight with some cursed spirits while walking back..”

Well, that part was a lie, but he had to make an excuse somehow!

You gasp in worry, eyebrows knitting together in concern as you reach to touch his shoulder. “Oh goodness, are you okay?”

Yujis face flushes, but luckily you can’t see that due to him looking the opposite direction. So he sorts himself out before he takes a deep breath and turns to you, his face now neutral and unbothered.

“Yeah, I’m chill..” He emphasises the ‘chill’ with a huge stretch of his arms, flexing them to you subtly with a nod. “Just got to put my training to use, slaying them curses like nothing matters, you get me?” He says with a ‘gangster’ like tone that Todo had previously taught him.

You take a moment to process what he’s saying, blinking a few times before withdrawing your hand and backing away a little.

“Yuji, are you sure you’re feeling okay..?” You ask, your face and tone only increasing in concern and worry. Yujis expression falters, realising he’s only making you feel worse, which isn’t what he wanted at all.

“N-no! Im good really..! Sorry! Im sorry!” He apologises, taking your hands in his and lowering his head repeatedly.

Ijichi has never been more confused in his life.

After that, Todo was officially ticked off the list for ‘asking for relationship advice’ and he was strictly forbidden from trying to contribute.

“The best thing to do is to flourish them with compliments! You gotta give them a flashy smile and charm them with your romantic gestures!” Panda exclaims with a gleam to his teeth.

“Isn’t there a word for that..?” Nobara asks “What’s it called?”

“Love bombing?” Megumi replies.

“Yeah! You don’t want to do that to Y/N!” Nobara says with an intense shaking of her head.

“Woah woah hey now! Let’s not get too hasty throwing around words.” Panda argues. “A little complimenting never hurt anyone!”

Suddenly, Yuji got deja vu from Todo all over again.

“Trust me, pal. Once you get them with your words, they’ll be swooning all over you!” Panda says with a thumbs up. “Go for it, Itadori!”

Yuji couldn’t help but hesitate, but he pushes through that uneasy feeling and takes the advice with a heavy heart.

The sky was filled with bright that complimented the colour of the dark night, but Yuji wasn’t interested in that.

Not when the most beautiful thing was right beside him, staring up at the night sky with a cute smile.

“You like the stars?” He asks quietly, eyes focused on your face.

“Yeah, they’re unreal.” You reply, a slight glimmer in your eyes as you speak.

“..You’re unreal..” He responds, to which you look at him instantly just to make sure you got your hearing right.

“..Im sorry?” Yuji almost backs down when you say that, but he has to try.

“Y-you’re unreal, you’re so beautiful.” He continues, leaning closer to you. “I could look into your eyes for hours because they’re just so pleasing to look at!”

Pleasing? Okay maybe he has to rein it in a bit!

You back away instantly, and his heart breaks a little.

“I-..I have to go home..” You say abruptly, standing up and grabbing your things. Yuji is set into panic mode.

“W-what? Why?” He says, his tone and demeanour now completely changed.

“You’ve-“ You stop for a moment, choosing your words wisely before you speak. “You have been acting different recently, Yuji. You’re not yourself.”

“No, no I have been myself! Really, I have!” He attempts to reassure you, scurrying to get off the grass and up to try and get you to stop.

“Well, you haven’t been my Yuji as of late.” You say a matter of factly, and that statement breaks Yujis heart into a million pieces. His expression falters, and he looks defeated.

“Y/N, please..” He says weakly, standing there.

“Yuji I just think you need to have some time to yourself for a while, call me when you’ve thought this through.” You whisper as you walk past and away from him, leaving the poor shell of a boy by himself as he stands, completely and utterly stunned at this sudden reality check.

Everyone noticed the lack of cheer and sun radiating off of Yuji the next day, and it made people feel uneasy.

As soon as he stepped into class the room had a lack of colour and lack of light to it, it felt..dull.

But the others can easily piece together what happened.

“Pandas advice didn’t work?” Megumi asks as he looks at Yuji moping on his desk as the bell rings.

“Or Todos, or yours or Nobaras..” Yuji mumbles as he holds his head in his hands. “They hate me..”

“Got your text!” Panda announces as he walks in the classroom, followed by Toge and Maki.

“Yeesh, that bad huh?” He asks.

“Your advice didn’t work. They got freaked out and went home..”

Maki raises an eyebrow. “What did you do?”

Yuji was about to reply, but Nobara interrupts. “He freaked them out with weird compliments.”

“Are you serious?” Yuji covers his ears at Maki’s raised voice.

“Aghhh! I know I know okay?! It was bad enough that I took Todos advice too a—“

“You took Todo’s advice? My god you really are an idiot.” At this Yuji flinches, snapping his head up with a defensive look. “Hey! You gotta be nice to me I’m weeping over here!!”

Maki sighs, before pulling up a chair and sitting down across from Yuji. “You wanna know why they aren’t getting the hint?”

Yuji hesitates for a moment but slowly nods. Maki takes a breath before answering.

“It’s because all they are focused on is how much you’ve changed around them recently and they aren’t wanting to go out with someone like that.” She explains. “They want you for you, not some Todo or Panda lookalike.”

“Im a good guy you know..” Panda mumbles.

“Have you atleast done the most basic thing and asked them out on a date?” Maki asks.

Yuji thinks for a moment, before his eyes go wide and he slaps himself on the head. “Damn it!!”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me..”

The clock read 10:15pm, you were currently finishing up some homework on your desk when suddenly a phone ring interrupts you from your studies.

Yuji! ❤️ is calling…

You can’t help the little smile that escapes your lips but you hold a little worry, just what was he going to utter out now..?

Still, you pick up the phone, holding it to your ear.

“Hello?” Theres a moment of rustling and background sound before you hear his voice.

“H-hi! I thought it through, can we talk?”

Your smile grows wider and you nod, although he can’t even see you. “Of course we can Yuji..”

“Great!” You can hear the excitement and relief in his voice through the phone. “Because it would be a bit awkward if you didn’t look out your window right now..”

Say what now?

Your heads snaps up from your work as you stand up from your chair, walking over to your window.

It was absolutely pouring it down with rain outside, but that never stopped Yuji. There he was, drenched from head to toe in water from the blistering rain as he stands there with a dopey smile on his face, phone in hand.

“Open up for a moment?”

You rush downstairs and put on your raincoat and slippers before opening the door and walking towards him, he waits until you’re right infront of him to speak.

“Is it okay if I ask you to not speak until I’ve finished?” He asks, you nod.

Yuji nods mostly to himself, before taking a deep breath in.

“You’re right, I haven’t been myself recently.” He starts, thinking of his words and picking them thoroughly. “But, I’d be lying if I said I have been myself at all around you.”

You raise an eyebrow in confusion, parting your lips.

“When I’m around you, you make me a different version of myself. You make me feel in such a good way I never knew was possible.” He continues, looking into your eyes as he does. “You make me feel all fuzzy it makes my stomach hurt, you make my heart beat out my chest like I’m dying.” He laughs nervously as he speaks, to which you smile and giggle yourself.

“W-what im trying to say is..I like you, Y/N. More than a friend and more than anything. I have since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Your eyes widen a bit, your smile widening as the same familiar patch of pink spreads across both of your cheeks. A moment of silence fills the air before he speaks up once more.

“Would you like to go out with me?”

In that moment when you look at him, you don’t see anyone else. You see Yuji, you only see Yuji and that’s all you’ve ever wanted.

So your answer is borderline clear when you open your mouth and say..

“I’d like that alot.”

TAGLIST : @melluvsuu

✿ riiwrites ; please please please don’t plagiarise or repost any of my works on any other platforms! especially without crediting!

[tvgals]

RENT A HIMBO !!

synopsis: reader had a pretty gnarly breakup. good thing her good friend hired a himbo for her troubles.

a/n: i couldn’t add the taglist bc it exceeded 50 people

cw; himbo! choso, black! fem! reader, fingering, oral (f) receiving, missionary, ooc gojo, fucking against the wall, this is based off an audio i found the other day.

you sat on the couch bundled up in an array of blankets. you’d just broken up with your boyfriend, gojo satoru. it was one of the longest relationships you’d had in a while, and it all came crashing down. all because his enormous ego came before you two’s relationship.

you heard three knocks adorn your door and you scrunch your face up, you weren’t expecting any visitors. you stood up, taking a single blanket onto your back and walking to the door. you open it just a smidge to see a tall burly man with a black compression shirt on and sweatpants.

“can i help you?” you ask, looking him up and down. he had a black line on his chiseled face along with two ponytails in his head. “yeah! uhm is this apartment 97G?” the man asks. you open your door a bit more, still confused. “yeah, why?” you question. “awesome. i was looking for apartment L6G for the longest time! until i realized it was just upside down.” he smiles. “oh! you’re wondering why i’m here.” he face palms. he grabs a paper out the pocket of his sweats and starts reading off of it.

“th-thank you for choosing ‘rent-a-himbo’, you’ve been gifted 24 ho- horse…hours! 24 hours with me! choso.” the man, now known as choso, grins. “this purchase was made by your good friend…shoko. my hobbies include..baking…drinking p-protein shakes, and going to the gym.” he looks at you and folds the paper back up and puts it in his pocket. your face falters at the reading of the paper, why would shoko do that?! “okay…” you mumble, about to close the door. before you can, choso sticks his foot in the door. “hey, could you maybe let me in? this is my only uniform and i’d hate to get it drenched in sweat.” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. you groan and open the door. choso walks in a sweet grin on his face. “thanks!” choso thanks you, taking his shirt off.

“woah woah, what are you doing?” you ask, moving back to the couch. “i told you, it’s my only uniform.” choso explains himself, neatly folding the shirt and putting it on your glass table you had in front of your couch. you watched as choso’s muscles flexing involuntarily as he walked around your home. “so, do you need me to do anything?” choso asks from the bathroom. “nope.” you say, snuggling up against the biggest pillow on the couch. choso walks into the room and sits across from you. “well then, let’s just talk.” he grins.

“wanna tell me about that breakup? i’m a great listener! i finished an entire podcast in one day!” choso beamed. you grin to yourself. “you totally don’t have to if you don’t wanna.” he says, his hands in his pockets. “well…” you started. “he was a really sweet guy. but his attitude and personality were just unbearable.” you rolled your eyes thinking about it. “and he never went down on me or anything. he only cared about himself.” you say. all the times gojo belittled the way you did things, or how you handled stuff was just…annoying. “but the sex was always good, even though i never really got to cum.” you mumble the last part, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by choso. “really?! he never made you cum?” choso asks, his mouth agape and his eyes wide.

“we gotta fix that, pretty lady.” choso says, pulling your hand so you crash softly into his body. you whine a bit, grinding yourself onto his beefy thigh. “just remember, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, okay?” choso says, pushing you onto your back and shimmying your shorts off of you. “i want this…” you whine once again. “good good..” choso grins. he takes a deep breath before he hooks his arms under your legs and starts eating you out like he’s been starving.

“fuck!” you groan out, arching your back. choso moaned into your cunt, making out with it sloppily. “please…” you whine out, shoving his face deeper into your pretty cunt. “mhm…” choso hummed, rutting his hips into your crème colored couch, his sensitive cock making it all the more pleasurable. “chosoooo! m’gna cum!” you practically scream. choso looks up at you and smiles,

“let go for me, pretty girl.” and you do exactly that, screaming and cumming all over his face. “there we go..” choso mumbles, rubbing soothing circles onto your thighs. he stands on his knees, hovering above you with a shit eating grin on his face. “hope you know i didn’t come here just to eat you out.” choso says, taking his sweatpants off. “i can tell..” you giggle to yourself. choso lines himself up with your hole, slowly pushing in. choso was big almost eight inches. you don’t think he knew he was big, though. due to him putting half his body weight onto you and pushing inside even harder. you scream out in a mixture of pleasure and pain, never having someone fully indulge into you like this.

“shh, shhh…” choso soothes you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. once choso bottoms out in your wet pussy, he starts going harder. he’s moaning and groaning profanities in your ear which he follows up with sorry‘s everytime. choso lifts his head up and looks at your face, glistening with sweat and a dopey grin on your face that spills out your beautiful moans. “you’re so beautiful…he didn’t see the beauty in you…” choso mumbled, almost to himself as if you weren’t even there.

you arched you back and start scratching at choso’s. “‘m cumming!” you moaned. choso smiled and kept his pace, watching as you came all over his dick. he groaned at the sight, getting close himself. “where do you want it?” choso asks, looking up at you. “inside…just do it inside.” you moan out. choso nods at your answer, thrusting into you a few more times before cumming inside your pussy with a groan. choso let you catch you breath for a moment before picking you up by hooking his arms underneath your legs, pining you against the wall. “you’re gonna drop me!” you exclaim, holding onto choso’s biceps with your life. “i don’t have all this muscle for no reason.” choso smirks, thrusting up into you. your head fell back in pleasure, choso’s dick hitting the tight spots in this position.

“right there?” choso asks, pressing kisses to your tits. you nod dumbly, drool threatening to spill out your mouth. “righ’ thereeee!” you whine, clawing at choso’s biceps and chest. “i know, baby, i know…” choso sympathizes with you. “‘m gonna cum again!” you cry out. “do it for me, baby..” choso says, pressing a hot kiss to your mouth. you cum one last time, choso falling not too far behind you with a low groan. “thank you..” choso smiles, laying down on the couch with you on top. “thank you, choso. that was amazing.

choso’s face dusted with a pink hue as he smiled down at you. “it’s nothing for a pretty girl like you.” choso says, eubbing his hand along your back. choso grabs a discarded blanket from off the floor and he throws it over the both of you. “might just have to give you a buy one get one free coupon.” choso winks. you giggle, slapping his chest playfully.

maybe this rent a himbo thing wasn’t too bad.

[mockerycrow]

Hello!!!!!! So i was wonderinfg if you could do a piece for cod mw2? A platonic 141 (other characters can be added if youd like) x (preferably 18-20 yr old) gn or fem reader. It can be a oneshot or headcannons, i dont mind either format!!! If you do a oneshot, any scenario (a mission, off duty, etc) is fine w me!!! You basically have free reign, just keep it strictly platonic, not even a smidge of the hints w the reader and romantic relationships 👍❤️

Ain’t That A Kick In The Head? (Platonic!141 x Fem!Reader)

cod masterlist

A/N: YESS!! I LOVE PLATONIC FICS!! 99% of my writing so far has been romantic, kind of funny considering I’m aromantic and queer. thank you anon <3 i’m also sorry for taking so long. your speciality isn’t specified, but it can’t be demolitions, im sorry!! plot purposes.

[WARNINGS: mentioned misogyny, fluff.]

Considering how young you are, you deal with quite a lot of people who have low expectations for you. To be fair, you don’t have much experience, but you are a quick learner and that’s very much needed on this base. You’re a Specialist, one rank above Private in the U.S. army ranks. When people first meet you, they expect you to be a coward, a twenty year old girl—is what they like to call you—who doesn’t know the difference between a 5.56 mm cartridge and a 7.62 mm cartridge, a clueless little girl. Of course you did not know everything, but it was clear you know enough and have enough skill as you’re apart of the 141.

When you were first picked for the team, Ghost was a bit skeptical. Your age played a big factor because he was concerned about your level of experience, but he overall trusts Price’s judgement. A huge part of it was him worried about how you would take in all of the traumatizing sights they see on every mission. How you would be able to take someone down without a second thought, even if they pleaded for their life. He didn’t voice this worry, nor did he do anything to “shield” you because he knows you know what you signed up for.

You physically train/spar with Ghost and Gaz separately frequently. They are different in size and in style of defense/attack, so they both give you great pointers on how to defend yourself and how to initiate an attack. You have a schedule with them; when you’re on base, you train with Gaz Mondays and Tuesdays and Ghosts on Thursdays, preferably early in the morning with Gaz and in the evening with Ghost. Even when you perfect your own style for attack and defense, you keep training with them; “So you don’t get rusty.”

Price knows what you signed up for, and he knows that he picked you, so like everyone else on the task force, he begins to train you. Being an expert in violence and timing—unconventional warfare too, he occasionally sits in on your training sessions with Gaz and/or Ghost. Sometimes, he talks with Gaz or Ghost beforehand to set up a specific scenario for you to find a way to get out of alive.

Being said, Price takes you out as well as the team to a training field, doing the exact same thing but in a more.. realistic scenario. Being so young, he figures you still have an unacceptable type of response with “fight, flight, or freeze”. His plan is to strip away the freeze response because that’s the one that will get you killed. He also very specifically has himself and your teammates as the enemies in this field because while you’re supposed to trust your team with your life, there’s also often betrayal in the field.

Soap is a demolitions expert, as well as a sniper. He absolutely refuses to let you handle real bombs at first because he knows you didn’t specialize in demolitions like he did. After spending a few months with you, he brings out non-dangerous replicas of bombs and replicated parts to begin to show you how to take a bomb apart/defuse it, when it’s best to let it explode, or how to put one together for emergencies. He absolutely 110% makes sure you know it’s for emergencies when he isn’t there. It’s not that he thinks you’re incapable, but he can’t help but worry. Him learning about how Gaz and Price met, how Price only had seconds to shove the hostage with a bomb vest strapped to him over that railing? Fucking terrifying to him.

Gaz also helps you complete your interrogation training—not being the interrogator, but then interrogatee. Undergoing several mentally challenging tests himself of this variety, he tasks himself with giving you pointers. Your task is to keep your mouth shut about intel and escape the facility and remain hidden, uncaptured during the entire test. He’s so incredibly used to uncomfortable situations, so his pointers during this—seeing that he passed this test himself, the only one who past it in his class—his advice is helpful.

Besides training with Ghost, he coaches you ambushes and stealth. Every time you’re caught in a test, he coaches you on how to evade, on how to remain hidden even when the enemy is right in front of you. He teaches you how to set up traps and ruses, what traps are most commonly used and spotted and what ones aren’t.

Overall, they know you’re inexperienced and young, but you quickly take their advice and training into account, and you get to teach them a thing or two when you arrive on base. You learn quick and Price finally feels as if you’re ready for an intense stealth mission, accompanied by the team. They don’t have any doubt held in their hearts for you, 100% trusting your abilities.

[jjongslutz]

박성훈 SUNGHOON 💋 I CAN HELP YOU WITH THAT. [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH your boyfriend!sunghoon kindly lends you his dick a hand to help you build your stamina after your dance and vocal instructors reprimand you for wasting your strength too easily.

WARNINGS ⨯ fem!reader, pw(out)p, riding (of all sorts; thighs, fingers, face, and the classic, dick), fingering (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving), pet names (princess, love, good girl), smidge of degradation, dom!sunghoon x sub!reader, use of the word God (not directed @ anybody)

WORD COUNT ⨯ 2.4k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . first post in the nsfw community... hope i'm welcomed—and i hope you like it lolz 😝

You slam the door when you come back to your apartment. You can’t help it, today’s been the longest, most frustrating day.

“Babe?” You hear calling from the living room, you presume. The additional voices spilling out from the TV as you make your way out of the entrance confirm your suspicion.

Sunghoon sits comfortably on the couch, scrolling on his phone, with whatever show he put on long forgotten. He puts his phone down at the sight of you around the corner. “Something wrong?”

Of course your boyfriend notices something off. Instead of an answer, you walk over to him and pout exaggeratedly. He gets the memo and opens his arms, inviting you to fall into them.

“My dance instructor hates me,” you say finally, voice muffled because of the way your face is buried in his shoulder. “My vocal trainer, too.”

Sunghoon chuckles lightly at your sudden confession. “Doubt that’s true, but go on.”

You let out a sigh as you sit up straighter and brush your hair out of your face. You watch as your boyfriend’s gaze follows your moment. Just seeing his beautiful face makes today’s jitters go away. Almost. “Apparently,” you start, rolling your eyes dramatically. “I have awful stamina. Like, really bad.”

“This is new information to you?” He winces when you punch his arm playfully.

“What do they expect me to do? Start going to the gym? Go on walks? I already spend hours at the studio, with school too, I barely have time for anything else. Obviously I’m gonna get tired fast.” You shift your position again, so you can go back to leaning your head into the crook of his neck. Sunghoon’s eyes getting caught by the TV again—although you know he isn’t really watching it, but in deep thought at your words—you take the opportunity to test the waters. You raise your chin and plant a kiss to his neck. “Plus, I don’t want to get too tired out before I get to bed with you.”

You keep peppering his neck with kisses, going up along his jaw until you can feel him smirking underneath you.

“We wouldn’t want you to fall asleep halfway through,” he teases. Then, suddenly, his eyes narrow, and his lips rise slightly.

“What,” you say, not really as a question, but a demand, easily recognizing his expression.

A light shade of rose blush spreads from his cheeks to his ears as his smirk turns mischevious. “I know how I can help you.”

Without waiting for your response, his hands trail down your sides until they land finally on your hips. You let him pull you up into his lap, until you’re sat with one of his thighs between your legs. It doesn’t take long for you to understand what he wants, despite being confused by what he means.

He nods at you. “Come on, Princess, you know what to do.”

You roll your eyes, not even hiding the smile on your face.

Steadying yourself with hands on his shoulders, you rock back and forth against his thigh, starting at a slow pace. Your eyelids flutter shut as you take in the relieving pressure against your clothed core.

Sunghoon helps guide you, his hands sturdily holding your hips. He moves you back and forth. Back and forth. “Fuck,” you whisper, leaning in and moving your hands up to his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. His tongue swipes your bottom lip just as he forces you forward faster. A moan escapes your mouth as his tongue takes the opportunity to go in.

Your knee lightly presses against his growing arousal, causing him to let out a soft groan into the kiss. Your moans sound like a melody mixed together.

Before you know it, your pace becomes sloppier as you get closer and closer to your climax. Your legs start to give out, at the same time. “Sunghoon,” you whine. “Please.” You’re not sure what you’re pleading for, but he doesn’t grant it.

His hands let go of your hips entirely, now all the pressure is put into your legs if you want to get off at all. You whine some more, but he shakes his head condescendingly. “Oh, love, you’re gonna have to work harder than that, hm? C’mon, be a good girl and cum by yourself.”

And just like that, his words are enough to taunt you into putting in the work.

Rutting your cunt against his leg faster, you aim for your climax with no remorse. It washes over you like a tidal wave, your legs trembling underneath you as you release a deep breath.

You collapse against his shoulder, out of breath. “Thank you, Hoon—”

“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” His tone is more menacing, yet traces of sweetness that make your face flush. You don’t usually go for multiple rounds. Once you cum, you’re wasted. Now, it seems Sunghoon really is going through with his promise of helping you. “Princess, take off your panties for me.”

Who are you to deny him?

You get up on shaking legs, slowly stepping out of your shorts, then pulling down your underwear.

Sunghoon watches you with hungry eyes. His mouth is slightly ajar with his tongue running across his bottom lip. Your eyes follow the slow movements of his hand on his groin.

God, you want him to take you right then and there.

He notices your gaze on him and seems to read your thoughts. “You'll get this later Princess, I promise.” Then, he brings his hand up to his mouth, sucking on his middle and ring finger sensually, maintaining eye contact as he pushes them in and out. Once he takes them out, he motions for you to come closer. “Ride my fingers, baby.”

First, you place your hands on his shoulders, then lean forward, positioning your knees beside Sunghoon’s, letting him guide his own fingers into your dripping core.

“Fuck, you're tight,” he groans with a smirk, pushing them in and out to get you used to the feeling. “Feel good?”

“Uh huh,” you moan, your head tilting up with your mouth open in an ‘o.’ You roll your hips into his fingers rhythmically, but steadily, letting him do all the work.

He notices it quickly and stops his curling fingers.

You mewl. God, you’re pathetic, and Sunghoon tells you as much. “You want me to do all the work? C’mon Princess, show me how good you make yourself feel. Use me, don’t you want to?”

And God, yes you do. You want to so bad.

So, you roll your hips forward, again, eagerly. Again, and again.

You bounce on them, you rut against them, you bring your hand to his and guide them in and out. Anything to get you to your high.

Suddenly, you feel Sunghoon’s muscles twitch under your fingertips and he raises you into the air, carrying you with his fingers still knuckle-deep into your cunt. He walks you to the bedroom, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, careful not to fall, yet desperate to maintain the satisfying pressure where you need it the most.

The aching feeling of him pulling out his fingers breaks your trance as he tosses you onto the bed.

Slowly, Sunghoon pulls his shirt over his head. Your eyes are glued to his toned abs, then he reveals his strong arms, which makes you moan at the sight of them, unable to stop yourself from imagining how it’d feel to be choked by them right now. He then pushes his sweatpants down, and though they did little to cover his erection, his boxers do even less. You’re disappointed he hasn’t taken those off just yet.

“Come here,” you tell him with a pout, weakly reaching your hand out to touch him.

Sunghoon grabs your hand, only to put it back down and climb on top and over you. Seeing as he’s laying next to you, you sit up for a better view. A smile comes across your lips as your hand inches toward his clothed dick, wishing for it to be the next thing inside you. “Please,” you ask him.

He doesn’t answer your question, instead says: “Take off your shirt.” It’s a demand and you respect it instantly. His lips curl at the sight of you not wearing a bra. You took it off after practice at the studio. Then, he nods his head. “Let me taste your pretty pussy, baby.”

You roll your eyes again, already situating yourself to kneel over his mouth.

Your thighs gently squeeze his head as you sink down slowly onto his tongue. It feels breathtaking, quite literally. Your mouth hangs open, needing something to latch onto. Since you can’t reach him or his lips, or his fingers that refuse to release their grip on your hips, you bite down onto the bed’s headboard. You moan into it, knowing it’ll leave teeth marks.

Something about the permanent, physical mark on the wood turns you on even more than you already are.

Your hips rut naturally, already used to the pattern Sunghoon’s asking of you.

His tongue moves in and out as you bounce in time, up and down, never too far up so you can always feel him against you.

You feel as his hands creep up from your hips to your breasts, he squeezes them when his hands land where he wants them. His finger brushes over your nipple and you throw your head back in a moan.

Soon enough, your second high of the night comes crashing. It takes you by surprise, your body falls back onto Sunghoon’s as your hips stutter against his tongue. He glides it all over your cunt to taste every bit of your release. He moans at the flavour, giving your glistening pussy a final kiss before he sits up, pulling you up to his chest.

You breath heavily against his lips, leaning in for a kiss, and he doesn’t deny it.

It’s messy, more spit than kiss, but God, it tastes good. You taste good.

“You like that,” Sunghoon laughs on your lips. “My good girl likes the way she tastes?”

At a loss of words, you hum with your eyes closed, falling back onto his shoulder in bliss.

As you’re sitting practically on his abs, he’s able to reach under you without you noticing, you only realize that he’s pulling down his boxers when he lifts his hips beneath you. You feel his hardened dick spring against your back, but before you have the chance to back up and get a look at it, Sunghoon pushes you forward.

He spits in his hand before reaching behind him. With one hand, the dry one, he spreads your cheeks, and using the other, guides his hardened member into your welcoming entrance. The stretch hits you so good, ripping a wave of pleasure through your body just from the newfound pressure.

This time, you don’t need to be told or scolded to play your part. You raise yourself from your knees, still trembling from pleasure, but determined to show Sunghoon how much of a good girl you are.

You start by going up, then down, then you roll your hips. It’s like a dance—the way you move smoothly against him, listening to the sounds of your moans and his heavy breathing is like music to your ears, controlling your movements.

It’s clear he’s holding himself back from moving, his dick twitching inside of you when you roll back so he’s balls deep. He groans, raising his eyes to the ceiling as if looking you in the eyes right now would make him lose composure.

“Fuck…” you whimper, falling back onto the palms of your hands, which gives you all the more room to freely bounce on him.

Sunghoon loves the view as he looks back down at you. “Such a good girl,” he whispers breathily.

He lowers his gaze again to your pussy swallowing and releasing his dick beneath you. “Fuck, Princess, you’re so pretty,” he says, speaking right to your pulsing cunt.

“Baby,” you say between breaths, steadying your movements so your fucked out expression is in full view. “Baby, please.”

He knows what you’re asking for.

And, finally, fucking finally, he gives in.

His knees come up behind you while coming up in front of you, deepening his length, hitting you right at your g-spot, you cry into his shoulder, not too much caring for the drool dripping down his chest from it.

Sunghoon pushes you back so he’s hovering above you, his dick still several inches deep inside of you. You moan at the sight of his dazed eyes, pulling your head back, which gives him access to attack your neck with kisses, biting on the skin until it bruises to his satisfaction.

You moan underneath his control, giving him your all, and letting him do with you what he needs until he’s done with you.

He shifts his weight to his knees. “Good girl,” he breathes into your hair. “You feel so good around my dick—Fuck—You’re so tight.” With this new position, he has more leverage to pound harder and faster into you. He babbles on under his breath about how good you feel, and your brain fuses it all together, lost in the pleasure.

“Sunghoon—Please—” You plead needlessly because he’s already giving you what you want. No, you just need more, more.

And he gives it.

He pounds into you, over and over again.

“You gonna cum for me, Princess?”

His words work like magic because in an instant you're clenching around him, more of your seed pooling out of you, coating his shaft in a delicious layer of white.

Sunghoon is soon to follow, pulling out to jerk off on top of your stomach until his cum is leaking beautifully onto your skin.

He runs his hand across your stomach, scooping up as much of his seed as he can and urges you to open your mouth. Soon enough, you taste the salty, bittersweetness of your boyfriend running down your throat.

After you’ve finished swallowing it all, you look up at him, panting, with doe eyes. “How’d I do?”

He considers it for a moment. “I think we’ll need to practice some more.”

 JJONGSLUTZ 2023

[arabaka]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐗 𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐁!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 ━☆ *⋆ ˚｡⋆ . 𝙡𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜.

(JJK MEN X AFAB!READER) - FT. GETO, NANAMI, AND GOJO. HOW THEY REACT TO YOU LICKING THEIR STOMACHS.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CONTENT WARNINGS: SMUT. PLEASE SEE INDVIIDUAL SECTIONS FOR SPECIFIC WARNINGS. NO PRONOUNS USED. ゜・。.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ WORD COUNT: 1.1k (approx. 400 per chara). ゜・。.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CONTENT WARNINGS: READER IS A WORSHIPPER OF GETO. POWER IMBALANCE. ゜・。.

Geto expects you to treat every inch of his body with reverance; he is a god after all and you, a lowly servant like the rest but that’s not what he tells you when the others have retreated to their corners, leaving you and the sorcerer to your very important, very special business.

Because when it’s only you and him whose breaths fill the room, utter filthy, depraved noises only the wall is privy to, he kisses saccharine sweet names, praises even, to your skin until there’s enough spit on you that you will never question who you belong to.

And he lets you do the same to him, considers it worship when you push the robes off his shoulders, lips latching onto the newly exposed skin until you’re drawing a path down his body. You look radiant, skin glowing from your master’s attention, that you just can’t help but drag a line with your tongue up his stomach, moaning in contentment when his hand comes to firmly clasp and press around the nape of your neck.

“That’s it. So good.” His groan rumbles his holy body, hips bucking and rubbing along your own form as it comes to climb over his, cunt not missing the chance to grind along the prominent, angrily throbbing bulge still restrained from his underwear.

You think now, you can have him but your pussy, already so wet with anticipation, will never be on to call the shots. That is his right and his alone.

He forces you back down with the same clasp around your neck, pressing your nose to the space between his pecs before guiding your pouted and puffy lips down until your tongue is over his firm, well developed abs.

“I did not say you were done, however.” Geto speaks so pompously because he can. “Continue.” Is the order he leaves you with, a bite to his single utterance that tells you one thing: you are not in control.

“Not now, love. It’s been a long day.” The sigh that leaves his mouth just then is largely burdened, with only a smidge of room given to you as an opportunity to cheer him up.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CONTENT WARNINGS: NOTHING TOO WILD TBH. READER IS FORWARD. READER IS DESCRIBED AS HAVING BIG BREASTS. ゜・。.

You jump on the chance, knowing your husband, Nanami Kento, so well that you only need to listen to the needs of his body to perk him right back up. No matter the work hours, no matter the circumstance that’s drained him by the time he comes home to you, you’re always willing and capable of taking care of his dormant passion.

“You don’t have to do anything, Kento.” You promise him, standing so close him your chests meet when you breathe. Fingers gingerly running through the steam pressed, finely pointed collar of his blue button-up while his work at loosening the spotted tie he so predicatably wears. You press in even deeper, fat and heavily plushed breasts squeezing tight against his hardened chest as you reach the length of his tie and so easily toss it to the bed. “Let me.” You whisper when one of his hands comes to cuff your wrist, as if to warn you but his own body betrays him, cock so uncomfortably swelling in his slacks and briefs.

You start with peppering kisses to the column of his neck and with every inch you lower yourself too, you make sure there isn’t a space of flesh you haven’t touched with your lips. You so delicately pop buttons free on your way down and you know Nanami is on board when he himself shrugs off the shirt and you know he’s desperate when he himself lets the shirt just crumple to the floor, organization out the window when all he can focus on is the way your tongue, flat and so, so wet is leaving a glimmer trail of spit from his chest down to his stomach. You kiss circles around his navel and his body shivers– no, trembles at the stimulation of cool air hitting his skin.

Working on his belt, you continue to look up at him, fluttering eyelashes revealing the sultry glint in your eyes. “Gonna make you forget all about today, Kento. You just let me take care of you.” And before the belt comes down, you lick another fat stripe up his torso with a shameless smile stamped over your face.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ CONTENT WARNINGS: BONDAGE (GOJO IS TIED UP). WHINY GOJO. DOMINANT READER. ゜・。.

Part of being with the Gojo Satoru is putting up with his shit. The other half is him putting up with yours. You’re a chaotic force alone, but together? It’s something otherworldly.

And there’s no one that can tease the unstoppable tornado that is the man with Six Eyes like you can. No one else gets to see this side of Gojo: the man with more power in this finger tip than anyone known to man is always reduced to a blubbering mess who can only take breaths from shallow, quivering lips.

He’s restrained, blindfold still obscuring his cerulean blues from you, and struggling under your fleeting touches and surprise kisses. Surprise because while he does continue keep you two safe with his powerful abilites, he’s promised you that while he’s strung up for your pleasure as much as his that he will not let vision ruin the raw, unbridled anticipation that inevitable comes when the two of you are completely laid bare for one another.

So you kiss him wherever you please, a whine bubbling up his throat when you draw near his pecs, lips ghosting around the nipple, his heigtened sensitivity causing them to perk up in no time. You slobber over the pebbled peaks, lolled out tongue sliding over the soft and gorgeously pink buds but just he’s starting to rattle the chains that bind him, you pull away.

He whines, the beautiful angel that is your lover looking hot as sin with the splotches of drool you’ve left in your wake glimmering under the low light from above. “Baby, please.” He sounds so pretty when he pleads.

“Not now, Satoru.” You breathe over his skin to taunt him.

He babbles, “P-Please, I’m dyin’ here.” You know he is because the beads of pre-cum have now turned into thin strings trickling down his shaft, breaking into rivers down the veins that so opulently adorn his length. You shimmy down his body, first intending to lick him clean of his desperate juice but you only leave him with a hot breath until you set your targets on his neglected abdomen. You have a taste for the man, showing it by the way you so lovingly lick up and down his stomach, your other hand working his cock with a rolling wrist.

“That feel good, baby?” You coo at the man who is now thrusting into your fist, trying to rush the friction as you continue to swirl your tongue over his torso, lips latching on every so often to leave hickies as your calling card. “Don’t answer that, actually. Your body’s doing all the talking.”

[icarryitin]

Psychopomp

spencer reid/gn!reader

besides having a crippling pepsi max addiction and being insufferable on this website my main hobby is Hozier Fan so pls enjoy some trauma bonding

series masterlist

word count: 1.6k // warnings: like two swears, canon level blood and injury, victim death, new colleague awkwardness

summary - You could have saved her, you’re sure of it. If you’d been quick enough. Instead, you’re just the grim reaper.

Stakeouts are not fun by anyone’s standard. Less fun when you’ve only known the person in the passenger seat for nine days - to make things even worse, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t like you.

Okay, that might be a bit presumptuous.

And maybe you’ve been awkward too, just a smidge. You’re trying so desperately to be cool about it, because he’s the cute guy at your new job and you don’t want to be that person. You’ve worked your ass off far too hard to get where you are, to even have a shot at the prestigious unit, to ruin it with a silly little crush on a coworker. Even if the glasses are absolutely doing it for you.

The woods are quiet through the windscreen, treeline barely visible past the raindrops falling heavier and heavier with every passing minute.

“Anything?”

The walkie talkie on the dashboard flickers to life to pierce the quiet. Reid’s eyes are still on the trees, so you lean over the steering wheel to pull it towards you.

“Nothing yet,” You press the talk button, “Any signs of life on your side?”

“None, cabin’s quiet.”

Morgan and Hotch are settled further up the track, carefully watching the suspected Unsub’s cabin. Your car is tucked off of the track entrance, in case the guy tries to make a break for it. It’s something out of a horror movie - creepy guy, cabin in the woods, the dark, the rain. You’re half expecting a werewolf to lumber out of the low hanging branches, dripping with blood and howling. But none such creature appears. Instead, it’s just quiet. Painfully so. You find yourself consciously keeping your breaths shallow and silent, you don’t want to disturb Reid any more than you’re sure you already are. Except, as you lean forward to slide the walkie talkie back onto the dashboard, your body betrays you.

The rumbling starts low, and for a second you’re hopeful that he won’t hear it at all. And then your stomach growls something awful.

You press your lips together and let your eyes close for a moment, let the embarrassment wash over you, before you open your mouth to apologise. He beats you to it.

“Yeah, me too.” There’s a sly little smile on his face, though he’s not looking at you. His gaze is still firmly stuck on the trees ahead. Still, it’s nice to know he’s not judging you. So you feel a little less self conscious about turning in your seat, about the eyes that follow when you lean through the gap to reach the backseat to unzip your bag.

It’s lunchbox time.

You’re not avoiding Reid’s eye per se, as you settle back into your seat with the plastic box on your knees, but you’re not exactly making any effort to meet it. He’s peering over at it - the sun bleached red box with a patchy kids show logo on the front, so scratched up that you can’t tell what it used to be anymore. But it holds more stakeout snacks than it feasibly should be able to, and that makes it perfect. You pull out a snack sized packet of jelly beans before turning it to face your teammate.

“You brought snacks?” He sounds surprised, but there’s no judgement in his tone, so that’s something. A tiny step forward.

“Always,” You glance up from the selection to look at him, “You don’t?”

Of course he doesn’t. He’s a professional. He’s old hat at all this, you’re the one fresh out of Academy packaging. Still, he leans over the centre console and snags a bag of dried fruit snacks for himself, pinched between two long fingers - he’s still got his arm stretched out halfway when the thud sounds against the hood of your car. The vibration of it reverberates through your seat, your gaze snaps up to spot two bloodied hands where they’ve slammed against the metal.

You know this woman. You know this woman because her face is in the file in your bag, her missing persons poster is front and centre on the board back at the local precinct. Time freezes when her eyes lock onto yours through the rain streaming down the windscreen, wild. And then she’s gone, tripping over rocks and twigs and her own feet, into the undergrowth. It doesn’t matter at this stage whether or not it’s a trap by the Unsub. Right now, Sheila Jenkins is running around in the dark and the cold and the rain. Terrified, injured, miles from home. You have no choice but to follow her into the darkness of the trees, you have to try. You’re out of the car and into the downpour before you can really think about it.

Reid’s voice carries your name through the trees after you, but it’s lost amongst the thunder in the clouds above.

She’s not far in front of you, injuries and rough terrain slowing her - but she makes up for it with sheer desperation. Fight or flight, and this woman can fly. Vaguely, there’s another set of footsteps somewhere behind you. Loud and uncoordinated, shoes wholly inappropriate for a trek through the woods, you know it’s Reid without looking back. Sheila is your sole focus, a frantic dark blob and shock of blonde hair just ahead through the trees. Her sole focus is getting the fuck out of the woods.

So she doesn’t see the break in the trees. She doesn’t see brush turn to tarmac, doesn’t feel it under her feet. She doesn’t see the approaching headlights at all.

You do, you see everything.

Reid’s hand shoots out to catch the back of your vest, rocks at your feet skitter out onto the road as he stops you in your tracks. And it all plays out, right in front of you, like a sick movie.

Even over the rain, over the thunder, over the rumble of the engine and the squealing of the brakes - the crunch of Sheila’s body against the hood of the car is loud. It echoes, reverberating as her body bounces off of it and lands ten feet further down the road. The driver is already out of their car, screaming, but it’s all background noise. You leave them to Reid, who’s already radioing for an ambulance. Because she’s not dead just yet, she’s a fighter. Her mother told you that only this morning.

Her breath is shallow, quick, and you already know that any help will come too late. The last human touch she knows shouldn’t be a violent one, it can’t be. Your feet are already carrying you to the crumpled heap of her in the road. The ground is cold when you hit it, rain soaking through your jeans. But it doesn’t matter.

“It’s okay,” You’re mumbling as you pull Sheila’s torso into your lap, her head resting in the crook of your elbow, “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

She shakes in your arms, blood stains the sleeve of your shirt where she grips it with broken fingers. Green eyes wide, bloodshot, terrified. You can only hold her closer. Shushing her, rocking her like a child. Her mouth opens and she croaks, you think she’s trying to say something to you - but she chokes on blood before she can get a word out, bubbling up and leaking from the corners of her lips. It spatters onto your vest, your face. It doesn’t matter.

“Mom.”

It’s the only sound Sheila can muster, garbled by the blood in her throat. God, she must be in so much pain.

“I’ll tell her.”

There’s a flicker in the green of her eyes, somewhere under the agony, you think she might be grateful. And then she’s done. Another twitch, another gasping breath against your vest. Sheila Jenkins dies in your arms. In a storm, on a backroad in rural Oregon, after escaping a serial killer. You’re blinded by the emergency lights that round the corner ahead of you, refracted in the rain, too fucking late.

A shadow falls across your face, illuminated from behind by red and blue light. Reid.

His hands are careful, almost nervous, as they hover over your shoulders before finally settling themselves solidly on the straps of your vest. He says nothing, only watches you for a moment. Watches you finally let a tear fall. Watches it mix with the rain on your cheek. He’s even more careful still when the paramedics approach, hands sliding down your arms to pry your grip from Sheila’s body to let them take her. It’s only now you can look him in the eye. His are sad, but steady.

“They’re not all like this.” Reid says quietly. He pulls a clean tissue out of his pocket, the rain soaking it almost instantly, but he dabs at the blood on your face with it.

“Sometimes we win.” He presses on when you say nothing, shifting slightly to allow you to see the rest of the team arriving on scene. The Unsub is in the backseat of Hotch and Morgan’s SUV, cuffed and on his way to justice. But your eyes slide back to the ambulance, to Sheila Jenkins getting zipped into a body bag.

“We do?” You know you look pathetic. Soaked to the bone in the middle of the road, covered in blood, looking at him like he’s the oracle. You can barely see for the rain in your eyes anyway, best not to know how pitifully he’s watching you.

Spencer doesn’t answer, but there’s such a certainty in his face that you’re inclined to believe him. Something tells you it won’t be the last time you treat this man’s word as gospel.

lou finish a wip on time and don’t make it sad challenge: impossible edition🫡

[querenciasturniolo]

hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii❤️❤️ i love your chris fics, could you write one about how y/n has been best friends with the triplets for a while now & has been on their podcasts and also in their car videos but her and chris has had a secret relationship but fans start speculating when a photo surfaces of her & chris having matching nails painted?? like maybe hers is green with a black heart on one finger and his is black with a green heart? thank you!!

slip ⮕ c.s.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: secret relationship, angst, comfort, she/her pronouns

summary: you’re feeling a little overwhelmed with hiding your relationship, but chris knows exactly what to do

a/n: this was very cute to write, and i LOVED it 💓 i couldn’t find a good reference picture for your exact idea, so i changed it just a smidge xx

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“Nick, what did you post?”

Nick looked up from his phone and frowned.

“What do you mean?”

You opened your phone, hundreds of notifications flying in at once on your most recent post. “I’m getting like, a million comments about me and Chris. Did you say anything?” You asked. You knew he didn’t but you were confused as to why everyone was asking about your relationship.

“Of course not, it’s just a photo of all of our hands making a star.” He said, standing up and walking towards you. You clicked on Nick’s story, seeing the photo of all of your nails and sighing.

“I didn’t realize how obvious it was.” You grumbled, locking your phone and rubbing your hand over your eyes.

“Do you want me to delete it?” He asked. You shook your head.

“No, no. It’s fine, really.” You said. “It just caught me off guard, you know?”

You’d never really been in the limelight, ever. Their social media presence always baffled you, especially when you and Chris had gotten together. You’d known them forever, but it still confused you.

It wasn’t until your followers started growing out of nowhere that you realized how much impact that they truly had. Seeing the enormous amount of people who were crazy about them who also wanted to see more of you in videos was…shocking, to say the least. You also didn’t understand how perceptive fans could be.

Every other comment was about the way Chris looked at you, and how when you started speaking, even if he was in the middle of talking, he’d stop and listen intently. You’d seen countless edits on Tiktok of you and Chris, the way both of your eyes lit up when talking to each other, whether you were in the background of a video or front and center.

It was crazy, seeing the way these people were completely right about something that you and Chris hadn’t even hinted at.

Nick sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t even thinking about your matching nails.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting the uproar.” You said, laughing quietly to yourself. “It’s really no big deal, honest. Don’t beat yourself up about it, it’ll be fine. It’s more suspicious if you delete it, anyway.” You said, resting your hand on Nick’s shoulder.

You pulled away and gestured towards the stairs. “I’m gonna go talk to Chris, I’ll see you later.” You said, Nick nodding his head. The last thing you wanted was to upset him, but you knew he’d be okay. You walked up the stairs to Chris’ room, dropping down on his bed next to him and looking over at him. He looked over at you, his eyebrows raised.

“Well, hello. What’s up?” He asked, locking his phone and dropping it on his chest.

You sighed through your nose and shrugged, looking up at the ceiling. It was hard, keeping this secret. You knew it was for the best right now, but you wished you could show off your boyfriend like other people.

“That was convincing. What’s going on, love?” He asked, turning onto his side and propping his head up on his hand and looking down at you.

You met his eyes again, nothing but concern shimmering in the icy blue of his iris’. You sighed again and shook your head.

“How long are we gonna keep hiding this?” You asked, your voice small. “Are you…ashamed of me?” You felt pathetic asking him something like that. He’d never made you feel that way, but you couldn’t help but wonder.

He frowned down at you, his jaw slack before he spoke. “Of course not, where did that come from?” He asked, resting his free hand over you and pulling you closer to him. He rested next to you, pulling you until your arm was wrapped around him and your head was resting on his chest.

“It’s stupid, forget I said anything.” You said, relaxing completely when his fingers began carding through your hair. His free hand entwined in yours, his thumb lightly running over your knuckles at a steady pace.

“Well, I’m not going to forget about anything. My girl thinks I’m ashamed of her, and I want to know what made her feel that way.” He said, your heart skipping a beat at the title. You looked down at both of your hands, smiling at the little frogs on his last three fingers. He had playfully whined about how the frogs would look goofy, but eventually admitted that it reminded him of Frog and Toad, and he was glad he did it.

“I just…I want to be able to show you off, you know? I know you want to keep it a secret, and that’s fine and I understand. It’s just…I want to be able to post pictures for our friends and families to see, if that makes any sense.” You rambled.

Chris was quiet for a while, but you could tell he was thinking. It wasn’t often that he was quiet, but you knew that when he was, he was genuinely trying to think of the best way to answer a question or the best solution to an issue. He sat up then, pulling himself from you quickly and adjusting a pillow to rest against his bed frame. You watched as he leaned back and met your eyes, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He patted the mattress between his knees.

“Come here.” He said. You chuckled and shook your head but complied. Your back was resting against his chest. He rested his hand over yours, entwining your fingers and lifting your hand up. “Straighten your hand.” He said, his voice soft. You smiled, and turned your head to look at him, but did as he said. He straightened his as well, both of your nails on display. He picked his phone up off of the mattress and opened his camera. The camera flashed, your brows furrowed as he let go of your hand and opened Instagram.

“What are you doing?” You asked. He shushed you as he created a new post and clicked on the picture. Your heart rate spiked as he typed a caption, tagged you in the photo and hit post. You pulled away from him as he locked his phone, your eyes wide as you met his. “Why did you do that?” You whispered.

Chris’ smile was contagious, your own making its way across your face as he shrugged his shoulders.

“My finger slipped.”

You shook your head at him, your heart feeling like it was going to burst as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I love you, you dork.” You whispered, Chris practically beaming up at you.

“I love you, too.” He said, his voice almost lower than yours.

You could feel the vibration of his phone against the mattress, your own phone going crazy in your pocket, but you didn’t care. It hit you just then why people were so crazy about him—because how could they not be?

[residenthughes]

..hey 😭 i know i've still got the poll up for either the smut or fluff fic to celebrate 100 followers, but i'll probably end up writing both, so this is a sneak peak at (my first time in a while) smut fic! (can't believe this is already over 1K words 😭)

warnings: +18, so minors DNI, cockwarming, unprotected sex (wrap it UP y'all), dirty talk, praise kink, smidge of daddy kink & degrading

“Come here, pretty girl.” Leon beckons you, voice low and mesmerising.

It’s as if you’re in a daze, blood coursing through you tainted by Leon’s cadence; at his beckon and call. You shuffle towards him, slow and feeble. You didn’t expect him to agree to this, nor be so eager to do so, which rids you of any words in you. Fortunately for you, Leon always has his ways with words.

“Oh, princess. Won’t get anything done with those shorts on,” he says, his blue iris’ swallowed whole by his midnight black pupils. “Take them off for me. Underwear, too.”

You crimson - Leon notices immediately. “You not wearing any underwear, kitten?”

The wave of intoxicating shame drowns you, burying you in the filth that lingers in the far corners of your mind. 

You nod again and Leon chuckles, smile amused and all too knowing. “Should’ve known. You’re so filthy, aren’t you?”

There is not a shred of trust within yourself besides that instilled in Leon, so your words betray you, only settling for nonverbal cues and the occasional whimper that escapes the lips your teeth sink into. With eyes focused on Leon, who waits expectantly, elbow perched against the mahogany wood table and leg crossed - you undress. Shimmy the impossibly thin material down your hips whilst maintaining eye contact with Leon, who looks like he’s a second away from bending you over the table and fucking you senseless. Your shorts pool around your feet and when you escape them, Leon’s hands find their natural place against the warmth of your hips, skin cool and providing nothing but the airy feeling in your head.

“So pretty, baby. So fucking pretty for me,” he murmurs, burrowing his face in your (Leon’s) t-shirt as his hands take their time to explore the goosebumps they leave in their wake. “Wet too.” 

Nothing’s started yet and you’re already squirming, thighs snapping shut as you feel the slight graze of Leon’s fingertips in between your lips, which when he retrieves his hand from, glisten with your slick. He showcases your slick like it’s on display, smirk unfathomably devious as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. 

“I’ve barely touched you and look at how wet you are,” he coos, taking in every reaction of yours as you squeal, shrivelling into yourself as the lust coursing through you makes your stomach twist and turn. “Must be so miserable, huh kitten? Come on, sit on daddy’s lap and let me take care of you.”

He unbuckles his belt, the sound amplifying the steady flow of your slick that starts its descent down your inner thighs. Having discarded the leather belt, his fingers make quick work of undoing his trousers, top button undone as he pushes the material just barely down his thighs. You hold your breath, watching closely as he lowers the waistband of his Calvin Kleins, pulling his hard cock out to give it a few lazy pumps. Despite how long you two have been together, you’re always rendered breathless at the sight of him - long, fat and thick.

At this point, it’s not just you who’s enjoying your current predicament as precum leaks out of Leon’s red tip, laying in wait for you. The thought alone is enough to get you off untouched.

“You just gonna stand there or are you gonna help me out here, sweetheart?” Leon knows this isn’t a matter of question, knows you’d do anything to have him and you can tell, his smile innocent but eyes tinted with mischief. 

You drape your legs over his steady thighs, Leon holding his cock as he shamelessly gives it a few more tugs, the movement causing the head to bump against your clit, eliciting a murmured squeal as you circle your arms around his neck just a little tighter. “Lee,”

“I know, I know, baby,” he grinds himself fully against you, the sensation just scratching the surface of your desires yet still making you shiver as you buck your hips towards him. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“So good, Lee,” you whine, nose nuzzled into his neck as you inhale his scent to keep yourself sane, drunk on the simple pleasure Leon gives you as he grinds up and down between your lips, gliding with ease as the sounds of your slick fill your ears. “Want more.”

“Gotta do my work, baby,” he says as he grinds against you harder, the feel of his cock against you coupled with the fraction his jeans create underneath you beginning to tighten the coil in your stomach. “You promised you’d sit pretty.”

It’s shameful, but you’re already becoming incoherent, fully surrendering yourself to the pleasure Leon submerges you in, thoughtless babbles making their way to his flush-tipped ears as you reply, “I will, Lee. Promise, I will.”

“Then sit.”

You moan at his words, removing yourself your snug place against his neck, eyes drinking up the crimson of his cheeks and the mess of his hair your fingers rendered. You balance yourself against his thighs, leaning backwards with your elbows against the cold wooden table as you open your legs wider, spreading yourself for his eyes to see. “In, please.”

He stares hungrily at you, legs spread open and wide just for him. “Want me to put it in, princess?”

You mumble back some sort of yes. “Please?”

His hand, large in size, cups your warm cheeks, thumb caressing the skin before tracing the outline of your lips. You automatically let your jaw fall, his thumb circled by your plump lips as you suck on the digit longingly. Leon’s fighting his demons, exercising every bit of self-restraint not to have you folded over, pathetic tears running down your face as you moan around his cock. He needs to patient and take his time - despite however tempting you make it for him to fuck you right here and now.

“Such a dumb baby, can’t even put in yourself, huh?” pants cloud his words, his chest rising as he aligns his cock against you, gradually dragging his length from your clit to your hole that clenches around nothing. He taps himself against you again and you buck your hips, craving any and every bit of friction you can get. 

His hand makes its way to the back of your head, touch soft as he gently directs your vision towards where you two meet, tracing your hole with light strokes that have you moaning at the back of your throat. “Keep your eyes on me, princess.”

You both look on as his cock breaches your spasming hole, your keen high-pitched squeal melting with Leon’s heavy breaths as he slides his cock into you, muscles flexing as he goes in slowly, loving every reaction you give him as the sensation makes you melt into a pool of your own desire. 

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 8

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

~~~

Author's Note: Sorry this took longer than usual, it was a stressful week at work and I didn't have time or energy to write as much as I wanted. There will be at least one more part, but I'm hoping I'll wrap things up next time (but honestly who knows with these two)

More act 2 spoilers this time!

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, non-explicit injuries, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only…now you do.

Up until now, you’ve not been handling it very well, but you make an effort to move past it. Past him.

~~~

You keep your promise to yourself fairly well in the following days. The Shadowlands, as expected, keep you busy with new mysteries and clues — and plenty of battles — and most of the time, you manage to remain focused on the task at hand.

Perhaps your heartbeat picks up a notch every time Astarion is near, but you ignore it. And maybe, just maybe, you stare at him a smidge too long when he’s not looking, but only when you know it doesn’t pull your attention away from something important.

You’ve caught him watching you too, but you keep your distance. No distractions, not even for a quick roll in the proverbial hay.

Everything is going relatively alright — until it doesn’t.

Thanks to the psionic detector, the Githyanki ambush doesn’t catch you off-guard, but you learn quickly that you have underestimated the danger they pose.

Perhaps you all got too cocky these last few days — too many easily-won battles that have boosted your confidence into thinking that this too will be readily handled.

In retrospect, you should’ve returned to stock up on scrolls and potions before taking them on. Too late now.

It’s a drawn-out battle, wearing you all out little by little, but if it’s anything you and your friends are, it’s tenacious — and after what feels like an eternity, you’re down to one foe. It’s their leader, but even with all of you severely injured, you should be able to take them out.

You grin as Karlach deals a critical hit with her halberd, finishing the Githyanki off with a savage roar.

“Gods, that was close.”

“Too close,” Astarion says as he sheaths his swords. Things aren’t exactly good between you, but it has been getting better. “Next time we contemplate doing something this stupid, how about we don’t?”

“You’re just cranky ‘cause you didn’t get to bite either of them.” Karlach nudges him with a grin. “Isn’t that right, Fangs?”

You’re still laughing when something behind the others steals your attention.

One of the other Githyanki. You saw them get felled by one of Shadowheart’s spells, but perhaps they only got knocked out.

You stop breathing when you realise that not only are they alive — but they have an arrow notched, ready to fire.

And it’s aimed at Astarion.

It’s too late to stop the arrow as they, at that moment, let it fly — so you do the only thing you can think of.

“Tav, what–”

You push him out of the way, but it’s not fast enough.

The pain of the arrow piercing you is blinding; you think you might be screaming.

“Tav!”

You sag to the ground, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking at you with a panicked expression. At least he’s okay, you think.

After that, everything fades to black.

“…Calm down, Astarion, Tav will be alright.”

“They don’t look alright! Why aren’t you doing more?”

“The only thing we can do now is wait. If you can’t behave, leave. We’ll find you when Tav wakes up.”

You’re vaguely aware of the voices, but you’re not quite capable of parsing what they’re saying.

“Hah! And leave them alone with you lot? I don’t think so.”

Why does everyone sound so upset? You can’t remember, and before your mind is clear enough to figure it out, you drift back into unconsciousness.

Your mind still feels like a blur when you come to next. You think someone might be holding your hand, but it’s difficult to be sure when you’re groggy with pain. And you’re not ready to open your eyes just yet.

“Why, oh, why, must you always play the hero? And for me, of all people?”

You recognise the low-pitched voice. Astarion. Why is he here?

“So stupid.” What feels like hair brushes against the back of your hand. “I’m not worth you losing your life.”

“Sure you are,” you press out, because it’s that simple. “I’d do anything for you.”

He inhales sharply. “Tav? Tav, darling, open your eyes for me.”

You reluctantly do as he asks, and it surprises you to find him looking uncharacteristically dishevelled.

“There you are. You had us worried, you know.”

“Astarion.”

“I’ll go and get the others.”

“Astarion.”

Before you can stop him, he leaves, and when he returns with the rest of your friends, he sticks to the background, letting the others dote on you.

You want him to come back, want him to hold your hand again. If the others weren't around, you might have asked him to. Instead, you see him sneak out of the tent when Karlach starts admonishing you for your brave yet careless stunt.

You love them all so much, but in that moment you’re this close to telling them all to leave. You would have, if you didn’t know that they probably need this to ease their own worries.

Still, you’re eternally grateful when Shadowheart ten minutes later shoo everyone out of your tent. She’s about to leave too when she turns to give you a secretive smile.

“You said his name, you know. More than once. When we carried you back to camp.”

With a bone-deep groan, you hide your face in your hands. “Please tell me he didn’t hear.”

“Oh, he most definitely did. But you know how he is, after the initial surprise, his expression turned blank. But his eyes never left you after that.” She huffs a laugh. “Not that he let you out of his sight before that. The only one allowed to carry you was Karlach.”

It sounds too good to be true. “Really?”

“I thought he was going to attack Halsin when he bent down to pick you up.”

“Why would he do that?” It truly makes no sense.

“Jealousy, of course.”

“Astarion? Jealous?”

Instead of answering, she just gives you a wink. “Seems like you two have that in common. Now make sure to rest, alright? I’ll come by with something to eat later.”

“Right.” Your head is spinning, and not only because you're recovering from an injury. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”

You want to process everything you just learned but your body is not having it; in mere minutes, you’re back under again.

No one is holding your hand when you hours later rouse from sleep. Strange that, how your mind seems to have expected it just because it happened last time. When Astarion was sitting by your side.

Astarion.

You have to find him.

It still hurts like hell, but the pain level is manageable. Perhaps a grunt or two slips out of you as you drag yourself up to standing, but no one’s there to give you grief about it so it’s fine. It’s nothing you can’t handle.

It’s dark outside, but you should’ve known better than to think that that would be enough to let you sneak away unnoticed.

“And just where do you think you’re going, soldier?”

Karlach.

“I need to see him.” She already knows, so you might as well get right to the point.

She sighs. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“No.”

“What if I go and find him for you?”

“Karlach.”

“Fiiiine. But only because I was already heading that way, anyway.”

“Dammon?”

Her besotted smile is a fetching look on her and you would hug her if you didn’t think it would hurt too much.

“Yeaaah. And last time I saw Astarion, he was heading in that direction.”

You don’t talk much on the walk over to the inn, your mind too busy going over and over what you want to say. What you want to ask him.

“You alright there, soldier?”

“Mmm, yeah. Maybe a bit nervous.” Because it’s truly dawning on you what you’re about to do. What if you’ve got it all wrong?

“Hah, trust me, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Her gentle squeeze on your arm feels reassuring. At least a little bit. She glances over her shoulder at the smithy where a fire is still burning. “And this is where I leave you.”

“I’m happy for you, Karlach.”

“Thank you, Tav. I’d say good luck but I don’t think you’ll need it. Now go and shake some sense into the vampire of yours.”

“Will do,” you say, even though you’re not sure you mean it. Every plan you’ve made so far involving this man has gone sideways, so who’s to say it won’t this time?

Taking a deep breath, you find yourself remaining where you are. Stalling.

“Should you really be up and about, Tav?”

“Jaheira.” You are so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear her approach. Turning around to face her, you give her a small smile. “I have something important I need to do.”

“I see.” With a slight bow of her head, she acknowledges your wish for privacy. “It’s good that you’re here, I wanted to thank you for your help the other day. I’m not sure we would still be standing if it weren’t for you and your friends.”

“Trust me, I’m just as happy as you are about that. And you made quite the dent in enemy forces yourself, taking down several of those winged horrors.”

“Their deaths wouldn’t have mattered if you hadn’t dealt with Marcus.”

“Still.” Jaheira is a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about it. “We could use someone of your calibre in our party.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m needed here.”

“I understand.” Something in her expression tells you that she’s tempted. “Consider it an open invitation. In case you change your mind.”

“I will, thank you.”

“You don’t happen to know if Astarion is here somewhere?” You decide you might as well save yourself some time and ask. “Karlach told me she had seen him head this way.”

“He came here a while ago, yes. I think he’s down by the water.” She nods in the direction between the inn and the barn.

“Thank you.”

~~~

[freedomfireflies]

Not sure if you take requests so if not please ignore this xo

Bestfriend’s brother trope.

You’re at your best friends house and playing a game either like never have I ever, two truths one lie or would you rather and the topic of kinks come up since Harry’s room is wall you’re leaning on he can hear everything amd hears your kinks and can’t keep it to himself.

You either hear him grunting through the wall or a little ‘meetup’ in the kitchen or his room???

I changed it up just a smidge, but I hope it can still do your idea justice!! 😭 Thank you so much for the idea 🥹💞

“No…seriously?”

“Yeah…why? Is that…weird?”

“No, no…I just…honestly, I wouldn’t have expected it from you.”

“Really? I feel like a lot of people like it.”

Suzie laughs as she shakes her head. “Honestly, I swear. Remember when we were kids, and we were scared to even talk to other people?”

“Were? I’m still scared,” you snort.

She smirks. “I don’t think you’re that scared if you wanna go to a sex club.”

“Well…I’ve never been,” you sigh as you dig your hand back into the bowl of popcorn. “Dated a guy that used to go a lot. He said it was really important in showing him what he liked.”

“So why didn’t he take you?”

Your eyes roll. “’Cause he said he would get too jealous, and since we were in a relationship, it was inappropriate. I don’t know, I think he liked the idea of me being kinky but didn’t want me to actually be kinky.”

“And that’s why you dumped him,” she declares proudly, and you nod.

“Exactly.”

She nestles back into the pillows against her headboard, eyes on yours as if studying you. “Okay, so…what else?”

Your brow raises. “What else…what?”

“What else are you into?”

You shrug as you lean back as well and bring your knees to your chest. “I don’t know. Just…normal shit, I guess?”

“Like? Listen, we’ve already established I’m vanilla, so you’re gonna need to be more explicit.”

You laugh. “You’re not vanilla, you’re just…you like intimacy.”

“Yeah. Sure,” she deadpans playfully. “Whatever.”

“Okay, well…I don’t know,” you sigh again. “I like it…kind of rough, I guess? Spanking, choking…bondage.”

Her eyes light up like a kid in a candy store, and you grin. “Ooo.”

“Stop,” you groan, waving your hand at her to brush her away. “Honestly, I think if my partner is into it…I’m down to try it. Even if it’s a little…taboo.”

“Yeah? Okay, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve done for someone,” she asks, as if eager to live vicariously through you.

And you don’t mind telling her, so, you take a moment to think. “Uh…huh. Well, this one time…I was seeing this guy that worked at an auto shop, and he…uh, he used jumper cables as nipple clamps.”

“Oh, shit,” she murmurs, lashes fluttering. “Did it…did it hurt?”

“Oh, no. I mean, yes, but…not in a bad way. I’m…kind of a masochist, so…I liked it.”

Her smile returns as she puts a hand over her heart. “Oh, my god. I’m learning so much about you.”

“Stop,” you groan again as you shake your head and look around her room. “It’s not that weird.

“No, it’s not,” she agrees. “My brother’s a masochist. Well…an emotional masochist? I don’t know. All I do know is that when we still lived with our parents…I heard some shit I can never unhear.”

Your nose crinkles sympathetically as you chuckle. “I am…so sorry. May I suggest therapy?”

“Oh, already booked.”

“Thank God.”

“Yeah. Hey, speaking of my brother…I’m so sorry he’s here,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “I told him to get a hotel, but he claimed that ‘my apartment was so much cheaper,’ which is absolutely an insult and exactly why he’s sleeping on the couch tonight.”

“Honestly, it’s fine,” you tell her again. “Really, he can have the guestroom, I’m fine with the couch—”

“No,” she interrupts with a stern look. “His ass belongs on a couch. Your ass deserves a bed. End of.”

“Suze—”

“Nope. I don’t wanna hear it,” she repeats as she leaps from the bed and onto her feet. “I’m gonna go get some water, you want anything?”

“…can I steal some more of your strawberries?”

“Duh.”

You smile as she motions you forward before quickly leading you both out of her room and into the kitchen.

However, the minute you round the corner, she releases a very loud, and perturbed groan.

“Harry,” she nearly snaps when she finds him sitting on her counter, a box of strawberries in his hand. “I told you, those are for my guest.”

His eyes shift to you, a smug smile curling around his bright pink lips. “…oh, yeah. Oops?”

She grumbles under her breath and makes her way for the refrigerator before ripping the door open to retrieve a water bottle. “God, you’re a pain in my ass,” she calls to him before turning to you. “Sorry—again—about him. He’s going to share.”

“I am?” he asks.

“Yes,” she hisses, shooting a glare his way. “Or I will call mom.”

“Ooo,” he teases, hand over his heart, feigning fear. “Not mom, anything but mom.”

“God, whatever,” she huffs, slamming the door shut as she heads for the hall, stopping suddenly to glance back at you. “I’m gonna take a shower really quick, and then we can start the movie. Is that okay?”

“Sounds good,” you agree, nodding your understanding as you shoo her forward.

She smiles before sending one last aggravated look her brother’s way (to which he winks) and heads for the bathroom, leaving you two behind.

You turn to him, rather apprehensively as you meet his eye. You’ve known Suzie for years but have hardly ever spoken to Harry.

He’s…nice, you guess. Mostly keeps to himself. But he’ll say hello when he sees you and you’ll return the greeting before you both part ways.

This time, however, you notice the way he studies you. The way a rather curious intrigue makes its way into his expression as he slowly extends the fruit toward you. 

“Strawberry?” he offers.

Gingerly, you reach into the basket and retrieve one. “Thank you.”

“Yeah.” He leans back against the cupboards, continuing to keep his focus on you as you take a bite. “So…how’s the sleepover going?”

There’s a playful lilt to his voice, so you roll your eyes in return. “It’s going great. How’s the couch?”

“Stiff,” he reports. “She was right, I should’ve gone to a hotel.”

You hum as you take another bite before gesturing toward the hall. “Honestly, you can have the guestroom, I really don’t care.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” he declines as he places the strawberries onto the counter beside his thigh. “She was also right about you deserving the bed.”

You smile gratefully before the kitchen settles into a comfortable silence.

However, that smile slowly begins to slip as you start to piece a few things together. “…wait, how did you know she said I deserved it?”

Those vibrant red lips of his pull back into yet another devious smirk as he swipes his knuckles across his mouth. “Walls in here are kind of thin. Sound travels.”

Oh…

You nod, fingers absentmindedly beginning to twirl the stem of your fruit around and around. “And, uh…is that…I mean, how much…traveled?”

He props one knee up, foot landing on the marble as he leans forward. “Oh, you know…not…a lot.”

Oh no. “And how much is not a lot?”

“Not…a lot,” he repeats with a laugh. “Just…something about jumper cables as nipple clamps?”

“Oh, god,” you groan, palm coming up to smack against your forehead. “That’s…I am so sorry, that’s…shit.”

“Why…are you sorry?”

“’Cause, that’s…I’m sure you didn’t wanna hear that.”

“I mean, I wasn’t trying to hear it. Not on purpose, anyway.” He shrugs. “But honestly? It sounded kind of hot.”

You shoot a tedious look his way. “…come on, really?”

“Really.” Another shrug. “What? Shit like that is hot. S’even hotter when the girl is really into it, too.”

You exhale an amused snort as you move to toss the rest of the stem away. “Gee, well, thanks so much for your approval.”

“Anytime,” he declares proudly, matching your sarcasm. “And, for what it’s worth…the guy who wouldn’t take you to a sex club sounds like a fucking ass.”

You whirl back around, cheeks flushing. “Seriously? That, too?”

His palms instantly fly into the air as if surrendering. “It wasn’t on purpose, I swear. You just talk…very loud.”

“God,” you groan again, arms crossing as your head drops back. “Okay, we can be done. This is a very strange conversation, and we can be done with it now.”

“Fine, fine,” he agrees, arms lowering as he watches you head for the hall. “But…if you ever need someone to take you…”

You come to a halt about halfway through the doorframe before slowly glancing over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

“Well…I know a few places,” he says casually while hopping off the counter. “Could take you to one if you want.”

“I’m sorry, and why would I want you to take me to a sex club?”

“’Cause going alone for your first time can be a little intimating,” he explains, matter-of-factly. “Especially if you aren’t too sure what to do. S’just better to go with someone you trust.”

“Oh, and that person would be you, would it?”

“It could be.”

“Who says I trust you?”

“Who says you should?”

Your eyes narrow. “You just said I should.”

“No, I said it’s better to go with someone you trust, and it could be me,” he reiterates. “I never said you should trust me.”

You watch him carefully as he begins to take a step toward you.

“Think you know better than to trust me, anyway,” he murmurs, the side of his mouth dancing up into a smug grin. “Don’t you?”

You feel the catch in your throat as you look up at him.

The charged silence seems to stretch forever as he allows you a moment to understand.

And once he’s satisfied with your unease…he leans back.

“I’m just saying. If you ever need a playmate…you know where to find me,” he finishes, brushing past you to head for the couch.

And you watch him disappear into the living room, heart hammering inside your chest as his premise lingers in the air.

You almost want to laugh at the thought. Or cringe at the notion that you would ever even entertain such an idea.

But for the rest of the night, all through the movie and after you’ve tucked yourself into bed to sleep…the thought stays with you.

It stays, and it festers, and it expands.

Until you’re teetering on the edge between refusal…and acceptance.

And when you wake the next morning, only one thought remains:

What’s the worst that could happen?

I actually stole the scenario of the jumper cables as nipple clamps from one of my other stories, so if you recognize it...consider that to be a wink 😭

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[dira333]

Cats in the Cradle - Itoshi Rin - Part 2

Baby Series - part 1 - part 3

To find Sae at your front door is never a good sign, but to find him there today is the worst of all signs.

“I’ll talk to him,” you say like he’s the evil you need to protect him from.

“No,” Rin shakes his head, “I’ll deal with him. You go inside, okay?”

One look tells him that he’s serious. He might not have fully grasped the news yet, but he’s firm on his stance here.

“Okay, love you.” You lean in to kiss his cheek and shuffle along, bidding Sae the shortest greeting you’re able to. The fact that he doesn’t try to stop you on your way in tells you anything you need to know.

He’s Rin’s brother after all.

But you wouldn’t be his wife if you didn’t know to leave the door open a smidge. Just in case you need to come to his rescue in whatever way he could need.

-

“Mom said you’re expecting.”

“So what?”

“Listen,” Sae’s voice is low, urging, “I’m not a good brother. Probably never have been, but I… I have been thinking about it, lately, if things could have been different. And if there ever had been a sign to try again, this is it, right?”

“Just because we’re having a child?” 

You’re clutching the doorframe now, wishing, hoping, begging Sae to say the right thing.

“No, Rin, the kid’s not even here yet. But yeah, I don’t want your kid to only know me as some guy you can’t help but be related to. I don’t have to be an uncle if you don’t want me to-”

“The hell you mean you’re not going to be an uncle?!” Rin snaps, the sign for you to push the door open, to call out his name.

His head snaps over, concern cutting through the anger in an instant.

“Be nice,” you tell him softly, making the way back to lean into him, “Sae’s offering. You can do with it what you want.”

Rin sinks into you, heavy with emotions you can’t even begin to understand. But you try, for his sake. 

“How about…” You start, peering up at Sae who looks so unusually insecure, “How about you come inside and we have a cup of tea? Just to catch up. We can go from there.”

-

The weeks pass.

You can tell that Rin’s slowly, slowly starting to grasp reality.

Not one child. Two. 

“What if they end up hating each other?” He asks more than once, mostly when you’re about to fall asleep, his most vulnerable spots hidden in the darkness.

“We’ll help them through it. Most siblings have fights. It’s how you get out of those fights that define you, you know.”

“When do we know the gender?” He asks next.

It doesn’t take long to figure out why. In his head, daughters will not go through what he went through. Daughters, sisters, will not turn their backs on each other.

Your arguments fall on deaf ears but at least he listens to your wish, shakes his head when the doctors asks if he wants to know instead of making it a surprise.

He’s still a bundle of nerves on the way to the Gender Reveal.

You can only hope that Bachira and the boys don’t poke the bear.