#or maybe you thought that was all private and no one would see?

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Maybe Simon Riley and famous reader?? Like the reader is a singer and dedicates a song to him and we get to see a sort of soft and proud side of him?

I had to actually go through my playlist to find the right vibe for this. Such a sweet request 🥹

Song on repeat while I wrote this is "Just the two of us" by Bill Withers and Grover Washington, Jr. Cover version by The Macarons Project. Listen to the gorgeous cover here

Pairing: Simon x famous!reader

pov: Simon's

Title: To my Love.

"Okay, Manchester, it's almost time for me to close out for the night!" Her voice rings out above the cheering of the stadium. People are chanting encore and begging for another song. She laughs into the microphone, "I love you all, but I most certainly promised someone that I would try and wrap up on time."

There's a shout from somewhere closer to the stage for just one more song, please. She relents with a soft laugh, "Fine, but I'm thinking a new song for the city that has my heart."

There's more cheering and backstage, Simon tilts his head to the side because he understands the double meaning. His girl is always saying in interviews and on hot mics that her heart is in Manchester, England. She's not even from here, and when people ask about her own hometown, her smiles turn shy and sweet. She never says what or who she means, choosing to keep their relationship private. It's for her safety and his peace at mind.

Sure, he doesn't do the award shows, the public facing red carpets, and he blends in as one of her body guards; but her inner circle knows who he is and sees the two of them behind closed doors. He's a little shocked at the mention of a new song. He knows every lyric that gets written down in the little song book he got for her.

She looks off stage towards him and bless the smile she gives him. It makes his stomach flip and flop, and he knows that he is smiling like a love struck fool. The corners of his eyes crinkle, and the surgical mask on his face shifts, a clear indication that he is smiling back. This woman makes him feel things he hasn't in years. She kisses his scars, holds his hand with a grin, and every time she says his name, it's like hearing an angel whisper to him. He's not a praying man, does not believe in God or karma, he's lived too bloody a life for those thoughts, so finding someone to love him was never a possibility.

Yet here she is getting ready to debut a new song that she just told him was written with only him in mind. No other hands have touched this song, and it was written for him, and she's singing it as a public declaration of her love for him. The sentiment makes him ache in the best ways, turns him into puddy.

"What is that girl doing?" Her manager hisses, "did we approve of this?" She's fussing with a stage hand demanding to know what track is about to be played. The DJ cues up the music. It's a sweet swell of music. Light on the ears, there's no producer tag, no booming base, or 808s. The flip from high energy to sweet melodies instantly calms the crowd to silence.

Yeah, this wasn't planned. It's in the same vein as their relationship, unplanned and sweet. Simon didn't mean to fall in love with her. It sorta just happened. What was supposed to be a favor for a friend of John's, just the team providing extra security for some starlet, turned into a miracle.

She sings about him, sweetly. A true love song. She sings about loving someone at their best. She sings about loving the ugliest parts of someone. She belts her heart out on the bridge, words about finding true love and knowing that it won't always be easy. Her voice cracks, warbling on lines about broken people and loving them and slowly putting them together again, pretty gold holding the pieces together.

By the time the song is over, the longest and shortest four minutes in his life. And to think, someone wrote about how they loved loving him for four minutes, him of all people, he's got tears in his eyes. His body is moving before he can process it. There are people calling for him to stay backstage. He thinks he hears one of his teammates, and he doesn't know or care. All Simon Riley can see is his girl, his song bird, the mask is off and he's pulling her into a kiss.

There's distant cheering he is sure of that. The audience probably thinks that this is staged. It's not. Her manager will probably try to spin some silly narrative to the press and all of her fans. Whoever is on lights earns their paycheck because every light except the spotlight on them goes out.

And then slowly even that light fades, too, to the sound of thunderous applause.

ngl...I'm crying. Thank you anon.

[isabelawritesthings]

The last dance

Pairing: Katarina x F!reader

Synopsis: You are one of the guests at the Black Rose Ball, and your dance partner catches your eye.

Word count: 823

Warnings: Mentions of war and death, mentions of relationship breakups.

An: I know it's just a cinematic, but my heart can't stand seeing beautiful women in fiction and not writing about them 😭 I tried to make it longer but my creative block isn't helping. (In case you're confused and only know Arcane, Garen is her romantic interest in the lore of League of Legends and Jericho Swain is the one who rules Noxus, Demacia and Ionia are regions that are at war with Noxus.)

What happened in Piltover was surprising for all of Runeterra. A simple inventor becoming a kind of God? Even more so in the city of progress? Simply surprising.

Your parents were longtime members of the Black Rose, and with Mel Medarda's return, the organization needed a distraction. And just like in the times when Noxus was a monarchy ruled by an emperor, why not have a ball?

"You look beautiful.” Your mother said to you. “Do we really have to go to this ball? Are we really going to pretend that Ambessa's daughter isn't coming back to finish us all off?" Your mother looked surprised. "You better not say things like that at the ball.” Your father enters the room. "We're going to be late like this, ladies."

It was a masquerade ball, as the Black Rose always liked anonymity, but you didn't care, you wouldn't be wearing a mask that night, you thought the masks were too ugly to wear.

“Honey, do you mind if me and your father go say hi to some friends?" Your mother asked. "No, I think I'll just dance a little." You walk out onto the dance floor, and dance with the first person you see, not caring who it is under that mask. “You dance very well," said the masked person, it was a female voice. "Thank you... Are you part of the Black Rose, or are you just one of those nobles they invited?" The person behind the mask laughed. "You tell me, you're not wearing a mask after all.”

“Those are pretty ugly." You and your dance partner change positions. "I prefer you like this without the mask, you're very pretty.” You gave a small laugh. "You must be the one who's beautiful, redheads usually are." The woman looked you in the eyes. "Maybe we could talk in a more private place." You smiled. "I'd love to." The two of you walked to the garden.

In the garden, the mysterious woman takes off her mask, you weren't wrong, she was indeed beautiful. "Nice to meet you, Katarina." you smiled. "Y/N." Katarina sits on the garden bench. "Your parents are members of the Black Rose, aren't they?” You sit down next to her. "Yes, long before I was born." She gives a shy laugh. "They're all liars and murderers... You don't look like one of them.”

“And I'm not, it's just my parents who have these crazy ideologies of theirs, if I could, I'd be in Demacia or Ionia right now, but I would rule out going to Ionia, there's a very anti-Noxian sentiment there thanks to the war.” Katarina looks at the floor. "Demacia... That name brings back memories." You looked curious. "Are you from there?" Katarina looks at you. "No, I was born right here... It's just that it was there that I lived the best moment of my life, because I found love." You looked even more curious.

“Garen, his name is Garen, he was in the Demacian army, it could never work since we are also at war with Demacia, he would probably be executed for treason if anyone found out.” She looked sad. "Jericho Swain is still going to destroy this country with those stupid wars!" She looked at you again. "I still love him, but it could never work." You changed the subject. "So, what are you doing here? You don't look like a member of the Black Rose." Her eyes looked at you intently. "Let's just say I came to finish something." You thought it was strange that she was staring at you like that.

“You're taking too much of a risk by meeting me in a secluded location, if I were a spy you'd be dead by now." You looked even more surprised. "I... I... It's just that I found you quite peculiar…” She stopped staring at you. "Peculiar? I've heard better compliments... You look like you're also trying to forget a love." She figured it out pretty quickly. "I fell in love with a girl recently, she was in the army, she ended up dying in Ionia." Katarina's face remained still. "I'm sorry." You looked at her. "Don't be sorry, this fate was already predictable.”

You lost track of how much time you spent talking to Katarina on that bench, the more you found out about her, the more impressed you were, like how she had been trained by generals from all over the country.

“I think you need to go now, your parents must be worried." She stood up. "Thanks for the evening, I needed a little chat before I do what I came to do." You stood up too. "You keep mentioning this duty you have to do tonight but you never say what it is." She looks at you. "Let's just say it involves shocking some people at this ball."

She kisses you on the cheek before she leaves, you blush slightly.

[sissylittlefeather]

A House That Has Everything: Chapter 4

A/N: This one came to me when I saw these amazing AI photos on Instagram made by @blackvelvetep and @_chiara975ep. (Be sure to check out their pages on Instagram!) My fic brain went crazy and this storyline was born.

Summary: Set in Regency England, Mr. Presley is the gentleman who owns and resides in Graceland Manor. Annabelle Martin is his newest maid after her parents have died and left her an orphan. Can he resist his affection for her, despite the difference in their social class?

Need to catch up? Masterlist HERE.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, smut and angst, p in v sex, unprotected sex, sexy thoughts, and some kissing

Word count: ~2.5k

“Bella…”

But it isn't enough.

******

In order to take his mind off of Bella, Elvis leaves for a week in London to settle some estate business and spend time with his friends. When he sets out, all of the staff gather to see him off. Annabelle stands with her hands folded and her eyes on the ground. She's afraid if she looks at him, she'll blush or maybe even pass out cold. He slows down as he passes her, trying to catch her eye, even though he has no idea what he would do if he did. And then, just like that, he's gone.

In the carriage, his mind is consumed with thoughts of Bella refusing to look him in the eye. It's probably good that he'll have some time away. He can't handle another temptation and giving in would ruin them both.

******

In London, Elvis behaves as he usually does, gambling and drinking and generally acting completely unbefitting of his station, but the club he frequents is private and used to this kind of thing from gentlemen from the country.

After a bare-chested boxing match with his best friend Jasper, he finds himself in a perfumed bed in the arms of one of the women who works in the club. She provides a certain service to men who married for expectation rather than romance. Elvis has been with this kind of woman before on his trips to London, but this time he finds himself with a unique problem. The woman, called Bridget, runs her hand over his chest and sighs.

“Is there something on your mind, love?” She coos, her hand drifting down even further. Elvis stops her without thinking and purses his lips. The answer is yes, his mind is filled with Bella and he almost feels like he's being unfaithful here in this bed, but he knows that is absurd. He shakes his head, insisting that he's fine, even though his soft cock gives him away. “You've already paid, love. So why don't you relax and let me help you?”

She leans in and presses her lips to his softly. He closes his eyes and tries to sink into the kiss, but an image of Bella floats up behind his eyelids and he pulls back, almost gagging.

“I can't. I'm sorry.” He lays flat on his back and stares up at the ceiling and Bridget sighs again.

“Who is it that you're in love with?” Her voice has changed from her seductive whisper to one of matter-of-fact conversation.

“I'm not… what? No, that's not…”

“Are you afraid I'll tell your secret? You know what I am.” He turns and looks at her. She's right. No one would listen even if she did try to tell anyone.

“My maid.” He looks back up at the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. “She is the most exquisite creature and I haven't been able to rid my mind of her.”

“Does she feel the same?”

“I don’t know. We haven't… there is only longing. I think she may, but I only know my own heart.” Bridget clicks her tongue and runs her fingers through his hair almost out of habit.

“You poor miserable thing. With only your money to comfort you.” There's an edge of bitterness to her voice.

“I'd give it all up to have her.” He whispers. She softens and turns his chin to look at her.

“Then you have to tell her.”

“I cannot.”

“Then you don't deserve her.” He sits up almost angrily.

“You don't understand. You are free to love whomever you choose. I am bound by obligation to marry someone of my own class.” His eyes are burning and his nostrils flare.

“I couldn't love you.” She says it flatly and understanding settles on him. “But if I did, I would tell you. Love has no thought for the boundaries of society. It gives and takes as it sees fit.”

“Then what do I do about it? Wait for it to pass?” His pain is so genuine that she has a hard time dismissing it.

“Will it?” She cocks her head to the side a little.

“I don't know. I thought it would but here I am in this conversation with you.” He closes his eyes and she puts her hand on his cheek.

“Elvis, will you tell anyone that you were here with me?” He opens his eyes and looks at her, not sure where she's going with this question.

“No.”

“Then why couldn't she be your secret instead of me?” Something akin to hope flickers in his chest. She's right again. Why couldn't Bella be the secret he keeps from the world?

“I hadn't thought of that.” Bridget smiles and runs her hand down his stomach.

“Most of you never do.” She wraps her hand around his flaccid member and then whispers. “Tell me about her.”

Elvis's mind races as he thinks of Bella: her beautiful hands and the cupids bow in her lips that he wants to taste so badly. As more images of her appear in his mind, he hardens and Bridget begins to pump him.

“She's the loveliest woman I've ever seen, dainty and feminine but with a fire and strength I've only ever read about. Her hair is raven-dark and her eyes are deep blue.” He moans softly.

“Good. Close your eyes and keep going.” She strokes him with a little more pressure as his eyes flutter shut.

“She has the sweetest voice and her body…” He whimpers when he thinks of her perfectly round breasts and the curve of her hips under her skirt.

“I'm her. How do you want me?” All of a sudden, it's no longer Bridget's hand on his cock, it's Bella's, and he gasps a little.

“Fully and completely.” Bridget moves herself over his hips, rubbing the tip of him through her folds as he whimpers. “Oh, my Bella.”

He groans as she sinks down onto him and then starts to move. With his eyes closed, he sees Bella, her beautiful body naked, her face rapt with pleasure. Bridget sighs as she fucks him to completion and he moans and whispers Bella’s name with his eyes tightly shut.

When he finishes, he opens them and wants to cry. She's not Bella. Not even close. Bridget sees his expression and kisses his forehead.

“Tell her, Elvis.” He nods silently and pulls away from her, standing to dress himself.

Back in his own bed at the inn, he lays on his side and ignores the tears that slide down his nose. The sick feeling in his stomach makes it impossible to sleep, but he closes his eyes anyway.

******

Annabelle walks through to the kitchen and finds Mrs. Hall in a tizzy.

“What is it?” She asks curiously.

“Mr. Presley will be home this evening. We've just received word that he's on his way.” Annabelle's heart skips.

“He wasn't due home for another three days!” The thought of having him back in the house makes her weak in the knees.

“I know, but he apparently finished his business in London more quickly than he expected. Chop these carrots for me, love.” Mrs. Hall gestures to a pile of carrots on the cutting board and Annabelle goes to work silently. After a few minutes, Mrs. Hall notices her wordlessness. “You seem distraught that he'll be back.”

“Oh, no, I just… am surprised.” She stumbles over the words, embarrassed at being caught.

“Mmm. I was right, wasn't I?” Annabelle pauses her chopping and looks at Mrs. Hall. “There is something between you two.”

“No. There cannot be.”

“Ah, but you'd like there to be.” The older woman smiles knowingly and Annabelle sighs.

“There cannot be.” She repeats it to herself as much as to the cook.

“Love does not care where it cannot be. Now, give me those before you lose a finger.” Mrs. Hall takes the knife and goes to work chopping the carrots herself, dismissing Annabelle to get lost in her thoughts on her own. When she disappears through the door, Mrs. Hall smiles and begins to hum. It'll be good to see her boy happy again.

******

Despite his early return, Annabelle doesn't see Elvis for another couple of days. She goes about her work nervously, secretly praying to see him and afraid to see him all at once. One day Mrs. Davenport notices that she's finishing her work quickly and adds another task. She's to dust several of the rooms in the house every afternoon. Annabelle thinks nothing of this as she begins to work, moving from room to room, but as she approaches the drawing room, she stops dead in her tracks.

Someone is playing the pianoforte. And not just playing it, but playing it beautifully. Curiosity overwhelms her and she pushes the door open carefully. It's him. He's bent over the keys and as she watches, he begins to sing while he plays. His voice is the smoothest baritone she's ever encountered and it makes her heart leap in ways she didn't think possible. She also feels that familiar warmth between her legs and tries to close the door slowly, but it's a heavy door and it closes with a loud thunk. The music stops and she turns to make her way down the hallway quickly but he pulls it open before she gets too far.

“Bella! Wait!” He calls out to her as she slips into the library. When he enters, she's furiously dusting everything she can see, trying to ignore the growing blush on her cheeks and the way her center moistens under her clothes. “Are you hiding from me?”

She stops and takes a deep breath, turning to face him. Somehow, he's even more beautiful than before and it takes everything inside her not to go to him and pull him in close to her.

“No, of course not.”

“You ran away from me.” Elvis is a little hurt that he hasn't seen her. He came home specifically to talk to her and his resolve has melted more and more each day. Still, his encounter with Bridget is heavy in his mind and some determination lingers.

“I'm working.” At that moment, she bumps a porcelain knick-knack and it hits the floor, breaking into several large pieces. “Oh, I'm so sorry, sir.”

He sighs and then walks over, bending down to help her collect the pieces.

“Bella, I thought I asked you not to call me ‘sir’.”

“I'm sorry… Elvis.” He smiles and takes the broken pieces from her hands.

“That's better.” They both stand up and he sets the broken object on the end table. For a second they just stare at each other again. All of a sudden, his nerve is lost and he has no idea what to say. She's just about to turn away when he blurts out. “Do you like to read?”

“I do. More than anything.” She answers him quietly.

“Novels?”

“Some. Mostly poetry.” He can't help but smile widely as he walks to a shelf and pulls down a book.

“Have you read this?” She walks closer and looks at the volume he's holding.

“Wordsworth? I love Wordsworth.” His face is one of complete adoration and he tries desperately not to sweep her into his arms.

“And then my heart with pleasure fills–”

“-And dances with the daffodils.” She finishes the line he started and he nods. They continue this exercise through three more books before he pulls a tiny book of poems from his breast pocket.

“What about this one?” He hands it to her and she holds it, noticing all the dog-eared pages and notes in the margin.

“No, not this one.”

“It's yours, then. My favorite is on page 42.” His heart is racing when he thinks of what he's scribbled there, but in this moment he's so full of love for her that he doesn't even care if she sees it. He wants her to see it, needs her to see it.

She looks at him with her heart beating loudly in her chest. It's a book of love poems. Her hands tremble slightly as she turns to page 42. There, at the top, in his handwriting: For my Bella.

He steps closer to her as she reads, the blood thick in his veins, rushing everywhere but his brain.

The fountains mingle with the river

And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven

And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

And the moonbeams kiss the sea:

What is all this sweet work worth

If thou kiss not me?

She looks up at him as she reads the last line and he's so close she can feel him breathing. Her chest rises and falls quickly and his eyes flit down to her lips. She's afraid she might faint as he reaches out carefully and takes her cheek in his hand.

“What is all this sweet work worth, if thou kiss not me?” He whispers the last line. Her eyes flick between his and then down to his mouth as he moves toward her painfully slowly. She should stop him, but she's frozen on the spot.

Finally, his lips graze hers so softly that it's barely a kiss. But he doesn't stop there. He kisses her again, with a little more pressure, his lips parted with his tongue cautiously moving ever-so-slightly, but he doesn't taste her yet. Not until the third kiss, when she drops the book of poetry and throws her arms around his neck. He wraps himself around her waist and dives in fully into a kiss so deep and so intense that they both get lost below the waves of it. Their bodies are pressed together and their tongues move in a symphonic dance and they both forget to breathe. After what feels like an eternity, but isn't nearly long enough, they pull apart breathlessly. He tries to press his forehead to hers, but she backs away.

“Elvis, I can't.”

“Bella, please–”

“No. I'm sorry!” Her voice is heavy with tears as she turns and runs from the room.

“Bella!” He yells after her, but she's gone. He bends down and picks up the book of poems and then turns and throws it at the wall. Sinking into a chair, he runs his hands in his hair and tries to hold back the tears. He looks up at the ceiling as they start to fall and whispers. “Bella, please.”

She stands on the other side of the door, her body wracked with sobs as she weeps uncontrollably. When she hears him whisper her name again, she drops to her knees.

“Oh, Elvis.” She whispers it like a prayer, her hand on her heart as she rocks back and forth in agony.

******

What will happen next?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ahundredlifetime @claire-elvisgirl @ccab @atleastpleasetelephone @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley @searchingforgravity @msamarican @angschrof @lustnhim @polksaladava @librababe99 @hooked-on-elvis @theelvisprincess @makethemorning @peaceloveelvis @mrspresley69 @pxpresley @kxnnxy

[rei-ismyname]

Teen Jean outs Bobby Drake pt 1

So... Marvel finally decided to confirm that Bobby Drake is gay in All-New X-Men vol 1. I'd forgotten it was a response of sorts to Bobby aggressively performing heterosexuality by objectifying Magik. Not that it makes Jean's behaviour any kind of model for being an ally, but it's easier to see how she arrived at this conversation. It wasn't just out of the blue.

It's clear he absolutely knows he's gay, but he's been closeted for years and I think his persona was built for self protection. A person's openness with their sexuality is entirely up to them (thank fuck telepaths aren't real) and the O5 had grown up in the 60s then suddenly were taken to 2014. Homophobia is still absolutely rampant, but the difference must have been stark. Bobby's parents are also super conservative assholes - given their attitude to him being a mutant he knows they would be awful if he came out to them. Xavier isn't exactly progressive either.

The ice barrier he puts up is him shutting the conversation down while holding back. I'd probably freeze her solid and flee. Interestingly he stops denying it very quickly (not like he had a fucking choice, JEAN) and brings up the headfuck that is his older self who 'isn't [gay.] It really is a unique situation.

I get the impression that Bobby's 'speculation' is spot on, it's obviously the same thought process he had. It's incredibly articulate and thoughtful, which should give an idea of just how much of a performance he has been putting on. Plenty of gay and queer folks date people you wouldn't 'expect' them to. Experimentation is how we figure ourselves out, and heteronormativity is a hell of a drug.

He accepts it pretty quickly, and they briefly discuss the cultural differences compared to their own time.

He accepts it super quickly and allows himself to think out loud about people he finds attractive. Warren, mainly. I don't believe him for a second that Warren is 'too pretty' as I'll discuss in part 2, but I have to say I misremembered the privacy aspect of this. Obviously Jean went to Charles Xavier school of psychic consent (literally) but she at least talks to him privately about this, and assures him 'it's no one's business until you say it is.'

She didn't so much out him as drag him kicking and screaming out of the closet, but she kept it between them and stuck to that. That, at least, is a positive model for supporting queer friends. There's a lot of trust there, and Jean outing Bobby isn't as bad as I remember it. Bobby certainly seems a LOT happier afterwards and while his exploration of his sexuality/dating is awkward as hell, that's true for everyone. I wonder if he's grateful to Jean for this. It feels weird to say it but he probably is. The flipside of telepathy existing is the misery someone who wasn't his friend could have inflicted. There's Xavier, too, who surely must have known, right? He doesn't know the meaning of privacy - what should he have done with this information? We know what he did in canon - nothing. It's such an odd situation that it's hard to judge but if someone in your care is closeted for decades then maybe you didn't provide the best environment.

Thus, the ice twink was born. Next time, Teen Jean and Teen Bobby talk to the Bobby of this time period. That's going to be awkward to write about. Ultimately, it does portray common queer experiences (albeit with telepathy and time travel involved) and emphatically normalises not being straight. It's not perfect, and it wasn't very groundbreaking for 2014, but it's something.

[winchesterwild78]

Unspoken Words pt 7

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, other characters

Warnings: fluff, a little angst, David’s court date, more fluff

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This one is about a single mother with a nonverbal autistic daughter who loves Supernatural. The reader is going to a Supernatural Convention with her daughter and things unfold from there. The daughter character is near and dear to my heart. I have someone very close to me who is nonverbal, but he’s such an amazing kid. 

*One more chapter after this. Features a time jump or two. *

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Jensen is single in this story. 

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

*Time Jump 3 months*

After coming back from California  I decided to move Lily and I in with Jensen. He was excited I agreed to it. Living with him in California felt perfect, like we were exactly where we were meant to be. 

Lily began talking more, and Jensen insisted on paying for a private speech therapist. I told him I was fine with the one she had been going to, but he wanted the best for her. 

I quickly realized it was pointless to argue with him about her wellbeing. He stepped into the role of dad without missing a beat. We were a united front when it came to Lily, but he also used his status and money to help fill in gaps. 

*Flash Back to the month after we left*

We flew back for the court date for David’s attempted kidnapping. Sarah watched Lily so Jensen and I could go. He was found guilty and sentenced to jail time. There was also a lifetime protective order put in place that prevented him from any contact with Lily, myself or Jensen. 

When we came home for the court date I was sick for days. Chalking it up to nerves, I did my best to ignore it. After a few days and heading back to California Jensen started to get more concerned.

“Baby, you’ve been sick since before we went to court. Maybe you should go to the doctor.” He was right, I knew he was. I was just being stubborn. 

“I can’t just drop what I’m doing and go to the doctor for a little bug. It’ll pass. It always does.”

Jensen just looked at me, “Baby, please. I’m worried about you. I’ll keep Lily and you go see Dr. Pickard. Please.” I sighed, “Okay. I’ll make an appointment.” 

The next day I was sitting in the doctor’s office. I checked in and sat in the lobby. A young woman was sitting to the left of me and kept looking at me. I just wanted to get in and out without issues or being recognized. 

The young woman leaned forward. I knew what was coming. “Excuse me, ma’am?” I turned and smiled, “Yes?” “I’m sorry to bother you, but are you dating Jensen Ackles?” I nodded, “Yes I am.” She grinned, “I thought that was you. It’s very nice to meet you. My name is Mary. Are you two getting married?” “It’s nice to meet you too, Mary, and I don’t know. He hasn’t asked, so I’m going to say no. Not right now.” “Oh, okay. Well maybe he will soon.” I smiled as my name was called, “Maybe. We haven’t been dating long, so we have time. You have a great day, Mary.” 

I walked to the back with the nurse and explained why I was there. She told me the doctor would be in soon and would let me know if any tests would be needed. I nodded and she left. 

Sitting in the room I felt really dizzy and sick. Dr Pickard came in and noticed I was sweating and was pale. “Ms Y/L/N, are you okay?” “No, I feel really dizzy and sick to my stomach.” 

She checked me over and asked some questions. “Okay, let me run some tests. The nurse will be in soon and take some blood, do some swabs for the flu and other illnesses, and we need to check for pregnancy.” 

I chuckled, “Wow, just checking everything, huh?” Dr Pickard looked at me, “Just trying to be thorough.” She left the room and the nurse came back in a few minutes later. They took my blood, she swabbed my nose and throat and had me pee in a cup. 

“I’m gonna run all this to the lab, we should have the results for everything except the blood work before you leave today. The doctor will be back shortly.” I nodded and thanked her. I pulled out my phone and sent Jensen a text. 

Me: I’ve been poked, prodded and swabbed. Waiting on some of the results. I’m being checked for flu or other things. I’ll keep you updated. How are you and Lily?

Jensen: Okay, hopefully they figure it out soon. I’m really worried about you, and we are fine. *1 image sent*

Jensen sent a picture of him with a princess tiara on and Lily in her princess dress. I laughed.

Me: aww look at the pretty princesses. I love you two

Jensen: We love you too, mommy. Come home soon.

Me: I will. TTYS

After about twenty minutes Dr Pickard came back in. “Well, Ms Y/L/N, you don’t have the flu or strep, your iron is a bit low and you're a little dehydrated, and you’re pregnant.” 

“I’m sorry, what? I’m pregnant? How did that happen?” She chuckled, “Um, I’m assuming you and your partner had sex. Maybe unprotected?” I sat thinking, no, Jensen and I were always so… “Oh, yeah. That one time over a month ago.” She chuckled, “That’s all it takes. So I’m prescribing some prenatal vitamins and I want you to schedule an appointment to get the baby checked.” 

“Okay. Thank you for everything.” My heart beat fast in my chest. I was pregnant. Jensen was the father. Would he be okay with this? We never really talked about children. How would Lily handle this?

My head was spinning by the time I got home. Jensen greeted me at the door with a hug and a smile. He saw the bag from the pharmacy and smiled. “So I see you have some medicine. I’m assuming the doctor found something?” 

I took a deep breath, “Yeah she did. Jensen, we need to talk.” He sat down beside me and took my hands in his, “Okay baby. Is everything okay?” 

With a shaky breath I looked at him, “Jensen, I’m okay. She didn’t find anything devastating, but what she did find is going to change our lives.” 

Jensen looked at me, eyes so full of love, “Okay, now you’re scaring me. Y/N, please just tell me.” 

Tears pricked my eyes, I was so scared. “Jensen, I’m pregnant.” He softly gasped. Silence filled the room and I didn’t know what to say or do. 

The longer the silence stretched on, the more anxious I got. I swallowed hard, and the tears started to fall.

“Jensen, please say something.” His voice barely above a whisper, “You’re pregnant?” I nodded. “Jensen, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get pregnant. I know this isn’t something we talked about and I understand if you’re not ready. Lily and I can stay at our place and I won’t keep the baby from you if that’s what you want. I think Lily and I should go home. I’m so sorry Jensen.” 

I stood up quickly and walked towards the bedroom. The tears fell fast as I felt the bile rise in my throat. I walked into our bedroom and grabbed my suitcase. Jensen was hot on my heels. He grabbed my hand and spun me around. His lips crashed on mine in a heated kiss. 

I was shocked. When he pulled back he was smiling. “You’re pregnant. We’re having a baby!.” “Jensen, you’re not mad?” “What?! Why would I be mad? The love of my life is pregnant with our baby. Lily’s going to have a baby brother or sister. Oh sweetheart, please don’t leave. I want to be with you every step of the way.” 

I cried harder. I wasn’t expecting his reaction. He pulled me in his arms, “Shh baby. Don’t cry, please. I love you and I can’t wait to have this baby with you. I know you’ve been hurt in the past, but I promise I’m not going anywhere. You, Lily and this baby have me forever.” He wiped my tears away and placed a soft kiss on my lips. 

His hand rested on my stomach and he smiled. “I can’t even begin to tell you how excited I am.” I took a shaky breath in and out, letting go of all the anxiety I was feeling. 

*Current Time*

I was heading to my doctor's appointment to check on the baby and Jensen was going with me. We had been back home in Texas for about a month and Lily and I were adjusting to living with Jensen. 

I was worried she would have a hard time adjusting to the new house, but she loved it. Jensen made sure he put a gate around the pool, and a safety cover on the pool just in case. He also had her a swing set built in the backyard. They both spent a lot of time outside in the backyard playing. I couldn’t wait for the baby to be old enough to play with Lily and Jensen. 

I stood at the full-length mirror in our bedroom and placed a hand on my belly. I was just starting to show more and I knew we couldn’t hide the pregnancy much longer. My biggest worry was telling Lily. I wasn’t sure how she’d react. 

Sarah and Steve knew I was pregnant. They were excited for us. The two of them were coming over to watch Lily while Jensen and I went to the doctor. 

I was too busy looking at my growing bump to notice Jensen standing at the door. He leaned against the doorframe and watched me with a smile on his face. 

He walked up behind me and snaked his arms around my waist, placing his hands on my belly. He kissed my cheek, “How’s my babies today?” I smiled and leaned into him, “We’re okay. I’m hungry, but what else is new.” He laughed, “We’ll get you a snack before we head out. What do you want?” 

“Hmm, pickles, peanut butter and apples sound delicious.” He chuckled, “Okay. I’ll get it and you finish getting ready.” I kissed his lips, “Thanks baby.” He nodded and smiled.

Lily knew something was different, but we hadn’t told her yet I was pregnant. We wanted to make sure everything was okay with the baby before we told her. The appointment today was going to include an ultrasound and measurement of the baby. I was about 3 months pregnant and so far the pregnancy was going well. 

Jensen was by my side through it all. He was in between filming schedules at the moment, so he was home. I knew he was leaving in about 3 weeks to head to Toronto for filming. We weren’t sure if Lily and I were going or staying home, honestly it depends on what the doctor told us. 

Sarah and Steve arrived to watch Lily and Jensen and I were about to leave to go to the appointment. I was nervous but excited. This would be the first ultrasound and I was happy Jensen was going to be there for it. 

Sarah gave me a hug and told me she couldn’t wait to see the baby when we got back. Lily looked at me and Sarah and whispered, “baby?”

I looked at Sarah and she mouthed, “sorry”. I just nodded. 

I took a deep breath and sat Lily down. Jensen sat beside her. “Lily, sweetheart. Mommy and Jensen have something we want to tell you. You know how mommy has been sick and going to the doctor a lot? Well, mommy has a baby in her tummy. You’re going to be a big sister.” 

Lily sat beside Jensen and I very still. She looked up at me, then down to my stomach, then up at Jensen. Tears filled her little eyes and she started to cry. I pulled her on my lap but she wiggled free and went to her room. 

I started to follow her, but Sarah told me she’d go so we weren’t late. I wanted to go and see her, but I had to get to the appointment too. 

“Y/N, honey. I’ll take care of her. You go check on the little bean.” I nodded and Jensen and I left. 

The ride to the doctor’s office was quiet. I was worried about Lily and felt a pang of guilt for leaving like I did. Jensen sensed my uneasiness and took my hand in his. 

“Hey, she’s going to be okay. Take a deep breath.” “I know Jensen, she was just so upset and I left. What kind of mother does that?”

“Y/N, don’t do that. You’re an amazing mother. Lily is safe with Sarah, and we had to get to this appointment. I know you’re upset, but she’s going to be okay, I promise.”

I nodded and wiped the tears that started to fall away. We arrived at the doctor’s office and got checked in. 

The nurse checked my vitals and everything she needed to do. She asked how I’d been and told me the doctor would be in soon. Jensen stood beside the exam table and held my hand. 

The doctor came in, did their exam and got me ready for the ultrasound.

I was so excited and nervous to see the baby. She put the gel on my belly and commented that she was surprised I was showing as much as I was. I thought it was an odd statement to make, but brushed it off as my eyes were glued to the monitor. 

The doctor had a puzzled look on their face and kept looking at the monitor with an unreadable look on their face. I started to get nervous. “Hmm, that’s interesting.” 

I looked at her and then at Jensen. He saw my distress, “What’s interesting?” He asked her. “One second, let me just check one more thing. Hmm, yep. Okay.” 

Jensen looked at the screen, at her and then at me, “Is everything okay with the baby?” I started to panic a little because I wasn’t hearing a heartbeat. “Why don’t I hear a heartbeat?! Jensen, what’s wrong with the baby?!”

The doctor turned to us and offered a soft smile. I felt the bile rising in my throat. She flipped a switch on the machine and I heard the heartbeat. I let out the breath I was holding. 

“Everything looks great. The heartbeats are strong and it looks like growth is on target. You both can relax. It looks like both of them are perfectly healthy.” 

Jensen leaned down and kissed me and I turned back to the doctor to thank her, then it hit both of us. “Wait, what?! Heartbeats? Both?” She chuckled, “Congratulations, you’re having twins, and from the looks of it they are fraternal.” 

Jensen chuckled, “Wow, we’re adding two babies to the family.” He kissed me again. I was filled with joy and then a wave of anxiety hit me. I was worried how Lily would handle the news of twins. 

The doctor gave us pictures and we made our next appointment. I couldn’t take my eyes off the pictures. I clearly saw two babies in the pictures. 

On the way home my hand rested on my stomach as my mind drifted to what life would be like with three children. 

“Whatcha thinking about darlin’?” Jensen asked, breaking the silence in the car. “Just the babies and Lily. I don’t know how she’s going to feel about two babies. I’m just worried about her.” 

He took my hand, “Hey, I get it. It might be hard for her at first, but she’s going to be a great big sister. When Mackenzie was born I wasn’t thrilled at first, but after a bit I loved her and protected her. Lily is going to be the same way.” “I hope so.”

When we got home We shared the news with Sarah and Steve and they both were excited. I asked Sarah where Lily was and she said in her room. “I talked to her, but I don’t know if it did any good. I’m sorry Y/N.” 

I touched her arm, “No, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. We will talk to her. Thank you both for watching her.” 

Sarah nodded, hugged me goodbye and she and Steve left. I walked to Lily’s bedroom door and found her sitting on her bed holding her squirrel stuffy. 

I walked in and sat on the bed, “Lily, honey, we’re home. Do you want to see a picture of the baby?” She turned her back to me. It broke my heart. I touched her arm, “Baby, look at mommy, please.” 

She turned away and grunted at me. Jensen walked in and saw it. He walked up to me, touched my shoulder and motioned for me to come on. I looked at Lily and then back at him. I got up and left her room.

I started crying, “She’s so mad at me, Jensen. What am I going to do?” He pulled me in his arms and held me, “Hey, it’s okay. You get a snack and rest, I’ll talk to her.” I nodded and walked downstairs.

Jensen walked in her room and sat on the bed, “Hey baby girl. Will you look at me?” She turned further away. He put his hand on her shoulder, “Hey, Lily girl. Please look at me.” 

She slowly rolled over and looked at him. Her big beautiful eyes red from crying. “No love Lily.” Jensen’s heart broke. He immediately pulled her in his lap and held her tight, “Oh sweet girl, no. Just because mommy is having a baby doesn’t mean we don’t love you anymore. We will always love our Lily girl. You’re our first baby, our first princess. We love you and love the new baby too. Just like you can love mommy and love me.” 

She looked up at him and he wiped her tears away. “Love Lily?” “Of course we do. Forever and always. Do you want to see a picture of the baby?” She cautiously nodded. Jensen pulled out the ultrasound picture he had and showed Lily. “So, Lily, mommy has two babies in her belly. We don’t know if they are boys or girls, but there are two of them.” She smiled and held the picture looking it over. “Babies?” Jensen chuckled, “Yes, babies.” 

She climbed out of his lap and ran to her closet. When she came back over she had a duck toy and handed it to Jensen, “For baby.” Jensen smiled and kissed the top of her head, “Come on sweet girl, let’s give it to mommy.” 

Jensen carried Lily downstairs and to me. She hugged me and handed me the duck. I was a little confused. “She said it’s for the babies.” I smiled and nodded. 

Lily sat beside me and looked at my belly. “Babies?” I placed my hand on my stomach, “Yes, mommy has two babies in her belly.” Lily looked at Jensen and then back at me. She slid closer to me, placed her hand softly on my stomach and then leaned down and kissed my belly. 

My breath hitched and I looked at Jensen. He smiled and said, “See I told you, best big sister ever.” 

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[starryjiung]

saw your last post and came running 🏃‍♀️ for your inbox cause something has been on my mind these days A LOT…

most to least likely in piwon to be into exhibitionism? who gets excited when you get too touchy in public and stuff like that 😌 i would love to read your thoughts!!

stop that's so funny because literally same, so glad you're asking this 🤭

₊˚⊹ ࿔ MTL likely to be into exhibitionism

most

intak

keeho

taeyang

jiung

least

I immediately knew I wanted to put intak at the very top, something about him just screams "watch me, watch me, watch my partner, look". I think out of all of them, he's most likely to actually want to full on have someone watch while he fucks you as well, like he gives off vibes that he would want to both show you off, and also be seen himself. there's a pride thing in it that fits his confidence really well, he knows he's good in bed, and he would find it attractive to have other people see. the thrill of maybe getting caught is something I could absolutely imagine him finding fun, so getting into stuff in public would be right up his alley, most definitely. he's heavy on the pda already, so taking it one step further would be easy, whispering to you about how someone could catch you any minute.

Keeho is second, only because I think he would be less interested in showing himself off. but you?? yes absolutely. he would want the entire world to know that you're his, and that you're being treated right, very public with his pda if you're comfortable with it. you starting to get needy and touchy in public would be such a turn on for him, like as soon as he feels your hands staying on his body for longer than usual, maybe dipping slightly under his shirt, he would be horny. would probably drag you to a public bathroom and finish things off there. he loves knowing people can hear you moan and whimper for him as you cum.

honestly taeyang is a bit of a wildcard, but he does lean slightly more private, so I put him below keeho and intak. that being said, god this man would live for the feeling of you wanting him everywhere all the time. a confidence boost he definitely does not need, but loves every time. he would get so cocky once he feels your hand on his leg under the table, giving all of his attention to you in that moment, like no one else in the room would matter anymore. could see him grabbing your hand and moving it closer to his crotch, just to push your boundaries and see how far you're willing to go. he probably wouldn't want strangers to see or hear you though, that's for him. possibly he would care less around the members? like I said, he's a wildcard, so it could go kinda both ways, but I could imagine him not caring that the members hear him fucking you on the other side of the wall. "grow up it's just sex, are you jealous?" vibes.

now, I put jiung last, not necessarily because he would be against the idea at all, but he would go about it very differently than the other members. with jiung, I don't think there would be even a 1% chance of you actually getting caught, like he would make sure that wouldn't be a possibility in a situation where you start playing around in public. would stop you if you got /too/ handsy in a place where he wasn't in control of the situation. and if you kept going? he would give you That Look of like, don't push it. obviously he would love knowing that you want him this bad, but there would definitely be consequenses later if you didn't stop when he told you to. I could see him being a big fan of doing it to you though, like I said it's all about being in control of the situation for him. he would never actually want anyone to see or hear anything that private from the two of you, so he makes sure to only start feeling you up when he knows you're properly covered by a table, clothing, or something similar. seeing you react to him in public while you think someone might see, as long as he knows no one actually will, that would be fun for him.

[oh-yes-i-did-not]

Today is the day for people not to forget that vegetarianism exists. Maybe they’re not as “morally pure” as you want them to be, only shunning meat as is, or varying degrees of animal products including or excluding milk, eggs, even fish to some, depending on what your meat avoidance is (red meat, mammals, etc), but vegetarians are still a thing and they’re here. And it’s still a very viable option for people who want to be more aware, but don’t want to throw everything they already have away for containing a small amount of milk or fish product. Like most sauces you might find in your cabinet. Fish sauce is an ingredient in a lot of Asian cuisine sauces, just fyi.

And fuck those people who go “vegan or nothing!” They’re the exact same people who go “NO PAIN NO GAIN” on you on gym, when you can’t perform to perfection. They’re impossible, they expect impossible, they don’t exist in real life and thus they lack empathy, and they lack any awareness of you as a person, living in a situation.

If you want to lessen your consumption of meat or animal products without going scorched earth on them, you can do so. And it’s okay, too. One less piece of any meat consumed is better than none. It doesn’t matter if you can’t keep up with it or lapse once in a while. You as a singular consumer don’t matter quite that much as to bring down a movement with one or two mistakes. That’s actually a lie compounded on by THE industry, trying to shift the blame away from them and it’s not quite as black and white. But if it lessens your guilt then YES, you are not responsible for industries and your lone consumption will not change anything. You just need more people on your side.

...which is where vegeterianism and not being so fucking stubborn hardline comes in. Vegans I’ve seen have done nothing to encourage doing less with meat. They just say YOU NEED TO, NOW. And sharing recipes with fellow vegans, going “oooh, aaah” don’t count.

IN fact, I don’t care who the person who got their vegan lox recipe with carrots and salt shared on a national media is, or if they deserve even more accolades than they got, I’m just saying that anyone who spray painted “go vegan!” on a side of a building did less. They did something alright, some markings on a stuff. Which mostly annoys people in general. And then they think that annoyance or emotional reaction from non-vegans means anything (oooh they feeling guilty oooooh feeling so bad oooooh) and that they did something huge.

IN FACT, anyone just quietly sharing vegan recipes that look and taste good, and maybe even ways to do traditionally meat things as vegan, have done more to their cause than any-single-motherfucker who has ever spray painted shit, or yelled about their cause online, gotten angry at strangers online for their cause, or tried to gatekeep people like vegetarians or less meat people from their cause.

...just saying o.O

[milkmily]

Make you feel good?ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙──────────────────────────

Mr. Crawling X Fem reader

Smut cuz I want this man. Oral(reader receiving), fingering, praising, messy sex bro it's just super goofy, Mr. Crawling has a cold body so everything about him is cold, unprotected sex, PiV, I like to think he's super loud in bed, he has a long black tounge here, And I believe that's all for now :)

I played the game and omg I'm literally so obsessed over him like omg omg I love him sm

You were stressed. Tensed up.

And Mr Crawling saw this. But you'd always give him a smile whenever he asked if you were okay, if you had any pains. You were in bed, the curtains pulled as Mr. Crawling was on the floor behind them.

You had told him you just wanted some privacy for a bit. He was confused but he smiled at you. You smiled back at him and pulled the curtains. At first it was quiet. Maybe you just needed to rest a bit in private. He would have left if you asked him but that's okay. He heard some small shuffling and weird sounds. You were making sounds. You usually make these sounds when you have these ‘ scary dreams’, as you call them.

“Just wake me up when you hear me screaming or making sounds.” You told him once. You weren't exactly screaming but you were making weird sounds. He goes up to the bed as he peaks through the curtains and he sees you. You weren't wearing any clothes. Aren't you cold? You usually say you get cold when you don't have clothes on. The sheet wasn't even on you.

You were making weird sounds, your hand down between your legs as the other hand was cupping your breast. He keeps watching you. He's curious as to what you are doing. You were Whimpering, biting your lip, eyes, clothes as your head was thrown back. Your hand was rubbing small circles, your feet were curled, you were sweating as well. “Ah- Oh my-” You were so lost in your own pleasure you didn't even feel the bed Move a bit. You thought it was just you. You were so close. So so close. And then you hear Mr Crawling. you open your eyes and scream as you grab the sheets. “W-What are you doing here?! I-” he grabs on to the sheets and pulls them. He giggles as he looks down at your body. His hands go to your stomach, making you jump.

He's so cold!

Goosebumps all over your body. You look at him and let him continue. His hands move slowly up to your chest and you moan. His cold hands feel so nice on your warm body. “You Feel…good?” He asks and you nod. “Yes.” You say. He giggles and brushes his thumb over your nipple. You moaned and felt his other hand rub up and down on your thigh. You open your legs a bit more and try to move your hips to his hand. You wanted him to touch where you wanted him to. You whine as you grab his hand and move the tip of his fingers to your clit. You moved them in small circles. Fuck, he's so cold but it feels good.

He watches you as you move his hand to your wet slicks. He smiles and looks at your face. You looked like you were feeling good. No pain. Good. Pleasure. He starts to move his fingers by himself and you move your hand to cup your breast. “Good?” He asks again and you simply reply With a moan. He will simply take that as a yes. And as he watched your body move under him, he felt weird too. A good weird. He grins and moved hus fingers down to where was even more wet. You gasp at his cold touch and look at him. “Mr. Crawling- wait- um.” He stopped and tilts His head to the side. “Me make you feel good?” He asks and you nod. “Just, one.” You say as you hold a finger up. You grab his hand and show him. “One.” You say.

“One.” He repeats with you, just in his own language. He looks down and allows your hand to show him. You moved his long finger inside of you, causing you to gasp. Jesus, his fingers are so long. And honestly, his cold touch makes it feel even better. “Out.” You say as you move his hand out. “In.” And push it back in. You keep repeating as you whimper.

He moved his hand by himself, understanding now. He looks at you and sees your face. You had this expression on you that was just pure bliss. An expression he has never seen from you. He wants to see it more. He looks down at your wet cunt, covering His finger with your own cream. He starts to move faster, making you moan louder. “Ah- Yes, so good, good!” You moan as you hold on to his shoulder. He tilts his head and grins. He wonders… how would you taste? Sweet? sour? disgusting? No, you would never taste like that. You'd probably taste amazing. Just the thought of that made him lick his lips. He goes between your legs and lifts them up, putting them on his shoulder. “Wait! What are you doing?” You ask surprised and see his face closer to your dripping cunt. What would you smell like? He obviously knows you smell nice, but he needs to smell you better, closer. He needs you close to him. He needs to be inside you.

Sniff. Sniff. Sniff.

“Are you smelling me?” You ask, a bit creeped out. He looks at you and nods. “Good.” He says as he continues to smell. Oh, you smell amazing. You smell so good. You see him open his mouth and feel something cold and wet go between your folds that caused you to jump. He stopped as stood there. He grins and He grabs your hips. He hurriedly brings them closer To his face. You yelped and moaned as you felt his tongue lick your clit. “Y-Yeah, t-there. You're doing go- ah oh, you're doing good.” You moan as you move your hips. Mr. Crawling whimpers as he keeps licking your. Your praises had him feeling weird, weak, not a bad way. A good way. A good type of feeling that he wants to hear and feel more. His long tongue swirls around your small bud. He looks down at your aching hole and pushes his tongue, causing you to yelp once Again.

He seriously likes surprising you a lot.

You run your hands through his hair. Hearing him whimper just meant he liked your hands on his hair, so you kept going through his long black hair. You move your hips up and down, trying to reach your High, you need to. Fuck, all these random jump scares and random events. It just made you so stressed up. How long has it been since you've ever even felt this good?

Your ex couldn't even go down on you and Mr. Crawling is here, eating you up as if you were his first meal in years. You felt so loved and wanted with him. Because with him, he made you feel wanted. He Makes you feel good. He makes you feel so loved. You hold his hand and lock fingers with him as you throw your head back. You're close, so fucking close. You moan and gently tug at his hair, your thighs Starting to close. But he keeps them apart with only one of his arms. “I'm close! I'm so close!” You whine as you rub yourself into his nose, coming on his tounge. He's panting like a dog, droll and your juices dripping down from his chin onto the bed sheets. He pulled away and looked at you, who was panting.

“You, use me.” He says. You looked at him puzzled as he got on the bed and moved his head down. You looked down and saw a very obvious huge tent under his black gown. Oh god. “Please.” He says as he lifts up the gown to reveal his long cock, it twitches as precum drips out from The angry mushroom tip.

ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙──

Honestly you don't even know who is loud right now. You or him. He's moaning and Whimpering so loud, it just turns you on way more. You were on top of him, your legs open as you squat down on his cock, your hand on his chest to support yourself. He was moaning as his hands moved to your hips to try and help you more. His own hips moving up from time to time to feel you and be deeper inside of you.

you look down to see how your pussy would sink into his cock. God, he felt so good, he was making you feel good. You have to let him know, you already know how much he adores to be praised by you. “Good- ah! So good! You- good!” You moan as you feel his wet cock go in and out of you. And suddenly you feel something cold and goopy. You looked at him and said, “you came?”

But all he does is hold your hips and move his own on to yours. His moans became louder. It was messy. So goopy. You could hear the squish sounds that came every time you sank in, your skins slapping with the wet sounds. Honestly, it turned you on way more. You moved one of his hands to your breast that wanted attention just as much as your hips wanted them. He holds them and plays with your nipples, his long tongue swirling around them as he whimpers and moans. Your nipples got even harder as you felt his cold tongue.

You couldn't think anymore, your eyes rolling back as the tip of his cock hit your g-spot. Your legs give up in even trying. But he didn't give up, he grabbed your ass as he held and moved his hips upwards, faster and much harder. You scream as your eyes roll back even more. The bottom of his cock was covered with your cream. “T-There! Like that!” You yelled and he continued, not changing his pace. You hold tightly to his shirt as he holds the flesh Of your ass tightly, Whimpering and groaning as his cock keeps going in and out of your pussy.

Without even saying anything, you cum On his cock, soon feeling his cold cum shooting inside of you again. You whimper and whine at every touch, panting as you try to catch your breath.

Mr. Crawling lets you lay down on the bed and looks at you. “You, you feel good.” He says. “I want more.” He says as he spreads your legs open to reveal his own cum and your juices spilling out of you.

“More.” He says.

You smiled And nodded. “More.”

Mr. Gap heard and saw it all lol.

Hey @caotictimmy , I expect those feet in 3 to 5 business days.

[cumironi]

SHARING IS S★X CARING？’ s. geto ﹠ s. gojo

☆ sum. your boyfriend and his best friend are inseparable. they’ve shared everything; clothes, foods, money, games... you.

warning. non-sorcerer! au, smoke joint, shared-girlfriend, lube, anal, sēx toy, cūm-play, choking, petnames, cūnnilingus, squirting, creampied, unprotected sēx, fingērings, dōuble-penetration, oral ( m & f receiving ).

the first time you met suguru geto, he was with satoru gojo, and from that moment, it was clear that they were two halves of something dark and unbreakable. they weren’t just best friends; they were a single, inseparable force, bound together by something deeper and messier than loyalty. it was like an obsession, a need that bordered on suffocating. you could see it in the way they moved, like shadows mirroring each other, two predators perfectly synced, with eyes that dared anyone to come between them.

you thought that, maybe, as you got closer to geto, you’d become a part of that bond. you’d be something he could keep just for himself. but no—if geto was there, gojo would be, too, lurking like a phantom, a constant, mocking reminder that you’d never have all of geto. every private moment was contaminated by gojo’s presence, his eyes watching you both like he was daring you to try to shut him out. even when you craved a moment alone with geto, there was always a text, a knock at the door, or the sound of gojo’s voice somewhere close, a shadow neither of you could shake.

when you and geto finally started dating, you thought, foolishly, that it might change things. that somehow gojo would let him go, just a little. but instead, it was like he tightened his grip, pressing himself deeper into the space between you. every date, every whisper, every tender moment was never just yours and geto’s—it was shared, distorted by gojo’s smirking presence. even the way they looked at each other felt invasive, as though they had a silent language you couldn’t decode, one that excluded you completely.

it was toxic, twisted. they shared everything. their obsession ran so deep they blurred the boundaries between them, as if each were only half a person without the other. clothes? gojo would wear geto’s hoodies, his scent still lingering, just to make sure you knew he was part of every piece of geto’s life. food? if you made lunch for geto, gojo would sit down and eat it too, grinning as though daring you to say anything. money, games—it was like they fed off each other, this endless loop of dependence, this twisted codependency that they wore proudly.

and the worst part? they shared you, too. oh, they never said it out loud, but you could feel it in the way gojo looked at you, in the way he’d touch your shoulder a little too casually, leaning in with that mocking smile that dared you to protest. when you’d be alone with geto, just the two of you, you’d feel gojo’s shadow creeping in, like he was watching from somewhere, his presence twisting the intimacy into something poisoned. even in the way geto held you, there was a feeling that he was holding something back, something reserved only for gojo.

and sometimes, it felt like they were playing with you, like you were a toy they could toss back and forth. gojo would flirt, sometimes in front of geto, pushing boundaries just enough to make you question if it was all a game between them. they thrived off your discomfort, your jealousy. you’d catch the way they’d glance at each other when you reacted, a knowing, shared smile that reminded you of how close they were, how little you really meant in comparison.

it was sickening, this twisted love triangle where you were always the outsider. you knew you’d never be enough, not when they were so tangled up in each other, not when they held this dark, toxic bond over you like a noose. they didn’t need you; you were just another thing to share, another piece of amusement in their endless, consuming obsession with each other. and no matter how much you wanted to escape, you found yourself sinking deeper, drawn to the toxicity, addicted to the way they could pull you in and push you out, like they owned every part of you without ever letting you truly belong.

over time, you stopped fighting it—the reality that satoru gojo would always be woven into your relationship with suguru geto. resisting it felt pointless, like struggling against a tide that only grew stronger the more you tried to pull away. so instead, you started to let go, letting yourself sink into this twisted, shared intimacy they’d built around you, a dark bond that the three of you played into with a silent, unspoken understanding.

it started out innocently enough. one evening, the three of you were sprawled out on the couch in geto’s apartment, and on a whim, you let yourself settle onto gojo’s lap instead of your boyfriend’s. you felt gojo’s hand fall naturally to your waist, his touch a little too possessive, his fingers pressing against your skin with an assurance that told you he’d been waiting for this. there was a quiet thrill in it, a reckless satisfaction in the way gojo’s lips curved into a smirk when he felt you relax against him.

you stole a glance at geto, expecting something—jealousy, annoyance, maybe even anger. but instead, he simply looked back at you with an amused gleam in his eyes, a joint held lazily between his fingers as he took a slow drag, watching the two of you with a dark, knowing smile. he looked...pleased, as if this was all part of some game he and gojo had orchestrated, and you were playing into their hands exactly as they’d intended.

and you found yourself sinking deeper, almost against your own will. you’d started slipping on gojo’s clothes when you stayed over, oversized shirts that hung low on your shoulders, sleeves falling past your wrists, the fabric smelling faintly of his cologne, a scent that clung to your skin long after you took it off. and every time you caught geto’s gaze on you, that same amused smirk on his lips, you felt something tighten in your chest, a mix of surrender and thrill as his silent approval sank deeper into your bones.

the lines blurred more and more. when you’d reach for geto’s hand, gojo’s fingers would trace along your arm, his touch just a little too intimate, a little too possessive, his hands wandering over your skin in a way that left no room for boundaries. and geto never stopped him. he would watch, almost transfixed, his eyes dark and smoldering, a smirk curling up at the edges of his lips as he watched gojo’s hand slide down your arm, settling on your thigh, as if you were a part of something they both owned.

you felt trapped, yet strangely exhilarated, like you were standing on the edge of something dangerous and addictive, a line between control and surrender that blurred every time you were with them. this wasn’t love—not the way most people understood it. it was twisted, possessive, a toxic bond that fed off your willingness to fall deeper into their world, letting go of any illusion that this could be anything but theirs to shape, control, and consume.

you lay stretched across geto's bed, sheets tangled around your bare body, the coolness against your heated skin a stark contrast to the warmth that still lingered between you. the room felt heavy, thick with the scent of sweat and intimacy, and though the AC droned quietly, the air still seemed charged, electric.

your eyes trailed over geto as he moved across the room, his every step exuding that slow, effortless confidence that had always pulled you in. his skin glistened under the dim light, long black hair tumbling down his shoulders, framing his toned, sculpted body as he reached for the drawer, seemingly unfazed by his own nakedness. there was something about him—calm, composed, yet unnervingly intense, his gaze almost predatory, as if he knew he had you exactly where he wanted.

you hadn’t meant to ask, but the question fell from your lips anyway, barely above a whisper, hesitant yet laced with a strange anticipation. “baby, when will satoru come?”

he paused, glancing back at you with a small, dark smile that sent a jolt through you, an unspoken threat wrapped in that unreadable look. his eyes roamed over your exposed body, his gaze possessive, almost as if he was savoring your vulnerability, the way you lay waiting, asking for another man, even as you lay tangled in his sheets.

“he’ll be here soon, doll,” he replied, voice smooth but carrying an edge that made your pulse quicken. there was something chilling in his tone, as if he enjoyed the way you looked to gojo’s arrival, enjoyed that your desire for them was something they held, something they could control and twist as they pleased. you felt the weight of it—the way you had slipped into their world, no longer your own person, but a part of their twisted game, something they could pass between themselves, a secret thrill they both indulged in.

his words left a dark impression, a reminder that your place here was more than just between them—it was within the cage they had set up, one where you’d come to accept that neither of them would ever really let you go.

you hum softly, acknowledging his answer without another word, and let the silence settle around you both, an almost tangible tension filling the room. there was an ease in that quiet, twisted as it was—an acceptance of the strange rhythm you'd all fallen into.

you watched as geto moved towards the bed, his steps unhurried but deliberate. he tossed a pack of condoms onto the nightstand with a casual, careless thud, then reached into the drawer, pulling out a joint as if this were just another evening between the three of you. he lit it without a second glance, inhaling deeply, that calm intensity radiating off him.

just then, the door creaked open, and gojo’s voice filled the room, a mocking lilt in his words that was all too familiar. “it smells like sex in here,” he teased, his tone dripping with amusement. his eyes scanned the scene, taking in geto’s bare form standing by the bed, and he let out a low whistle, a playful grin spreading across his face.

geto rolled his eyes, exhaling a cloud of smoke, but there was a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, a flicker of something darkly amused as he watched his best friend stride in without hesitation.

gojo’s sharp blue eyes found yours, and in that instant, the atmosphere shifted, charged with a new intensity. he looked at you with that familiar, arrogant gleam, his gaze trailing over you, unashamed and piercing, like he was assessing exactly what he was about to walk into. there was a possessiveness in his gaze, a twisted understanding between the three of you that none of you needed to say out loud—this was just the way things were, a silent pact wrapped in tension, indulgence, and the thrill of pushing boundaries that none of you cared to pull back from.

you looked over at him, watching the way he stepped inside without hesitation, his eyes glinting with that same twisted amusement as he took in the scene, as if he were right at home in this dark, tangled intimacy. he closed the door behind him, his gaze drifting between you and geto, a satisfied smirk on his face that promised more than just another night together—it was a reminder of the possessive, toxic hold the two of them shared over you, a shared addiction you were all too willing to sink into. “finished your class?” you ask as he waltz closer to bed, throwing his bag mindlessly to the floor.

gojo’s smile grew wider at your question, his eyes never leaving yours as he stripped off his jacket and tossed it aside, his body moving with a careless, fluid grace that was as intimidating as it was captivating.

“you know how it is, doll,” he said, his voice a low, husky taunt. “just few more exams and i’m free for weeks,” he paused, his gaze flickering down, his eyes tracing the lines of your body just the way geto’s did, a hunger you found hard to resist.

“but now,” he continued, his smirk growing darker, “i’m all yours,” he finished for himself, his words a wicked promise as he finally climbed onto the bed, the mattress shifting under his weight. his gaze was fixed on yours, as if he were savoring the fact that for now, you were entirely at his mercy, a twisted game he and geto had both learned to play all too well.

you hummed softly, a quiet acknowledgment as you shifted, adjusting yourself to rest your head on geto’s bare, toned thighs. he had settled comfortably on the bed, back pressed against the headboard, completely unbothered by his lack of clothes, the cool confidence in his gaze unwavering as he looked down at you with a possessive sort of satisfaction. it was as if he reveled in the fact that both you and gojo seemed right where he wanted.

reaching up, you plucked the joint from his fingers, taking a slow drag as the haze filled your lungs, adding to the already charged atmosphere of the room. your other hand drifted upward, fingers tracing the edge of gojo’s collar, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as your eyes locked with his. there was a flicker of amusement in his gaze, a dark spark that told you he knew exactly what game the three of you were playing.

gojo’s eyes flickered with a familiar, playful amusement at your gesture, his gaze locked with yours as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow kiss. the joint passed from your fingers to his, a silent dance between your bodies. he took a leisurely drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke that hung in the air before fading away, his hand sliding down to your throat, a gentle yet firm touch that had a dark thrill pooling inside you.

“you already started without me, huh?” he murmured, his voice a teasing reproach as his lips trailed from your mouth down to your neck, every touch a promise of more to come. “or is dollie here too impatient to wait?” he added, a slight hint of arrogant confidence in his tone, as if he knew exactly how intoxicating this game between the three of you was, and how helpless you were to resist. each word sent chills down your spine, his touch a potent mix of pleasure and danger, a dark thril only a man like gojo could provide.

you smirked, a playful glint in your eyes as you took the joint from gojo’s fingers, holding his gaze with a teasing challenge. inhaling deeply, you let the smoke settle before exhaling slowly, every move deliberate, as if to show him you were just as unbothered as he pretended to be.

“maybe i wanted to spend some time alone with my boyfriend,” you murmured, your tone laced with mischief as your fingers traced an idle pattern on geto’s thigh. “before a certain intruder decided to barge in and ruin our peace.” the words dripped with sarcasm, but there was no denying the thrill that sparked in your veins, knowing exactly how gojo would react to your challenge.

gojo raised a brow, his trademark smirk deepening as he leaned closer, undeterred by your taunt. his fingers trailed over your covered-with-hickeys-collarbone, brushing against your skin with a touch that was both mocking and possessive, as if to remind you that this game was one you willingly walked into.

beside you, geto chuckled, a dark, approving sound as he took the joint back from you, his hand steady as he brought it to his lips. his eyes glinted with amusement, enjoying the twisted banter between you and gojo, like he relished watching the two of you push and pull in this dangerous, addictive dance. the lines between you all had long since blurred, and in that moment, it was clear that none of you had any intention of stopping.

gojo’s hand slid down, teasingly tracing the edge of the thin sheet around your chest, a playful smile playing on his lips as he met your gaze. “spoil your peace, huh?” he taunted, his voice low and teasing. “doll, you make it sound like i’ve done nothing but ruin your life.”

a mock pout formed on his lips, his fingers still toying with the sheet, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. “or,” he paused, his thumb suddenly brushing against your cleavage, hovering just upper your bare breast, “maybe you enjoy the chaos a little more than you’re letting on.”

his free hand toyed with your chin, tilting your face up to his with an affectionate touch, his eyes locked with yours with an almost predatory look—a glimmer of darker desire, as if he was savoring the way your breath hitched beneath his fingers.

“after all,” he murmured, his voice a low husky note, “your body certainly seems to respond quite well to my... intrusions.” he paused, and a sharp edge crept into his tone, his fingers lightly squeezing your throat. “maybe i should remind you that you’re the one who keeps coming back for more.”

a sly grin tugged at the corners of your lips, your eyes never leaving gojo’s as he teased you. you knew this game all too well—the way his eyes sparkled with mischief, the subtle taunts in his words, the way he constantly pushed boundaries just because he could. it was as intoxicating as it was infuriating, an addictive mix of pleasure and pain that only he seemed to be able to provide.

his touch was a subtle dance between light and heavy, his fingers teasing at the sheet covering your body as he spoke, the fabric brushing against your sensitive skin with every flicker of his wrist.

“i’m coming back for my lovely boyfriend, over here,” you said, eyes momentarily flickering to your boyfriend before going back to gojo. “for your information,” you added.

a dark gleam flashed in gojo’s eyes, a smirk playing on his lips in response to your challenge. “well, doll,” he murmured, his fingers tightening possessively around your throat, “i wouldn’t want to disappoint your boyfriend by depriving you of him.” his lips brushed against yours, a slow, taunting kiss that carried a promise of darker desires and a twisted addiction that went far beyond mere lust.

his touch never relented, his fingers tracing the curves of your body, teasingly brushing against your sensitive spots, as he pressed himself against you, a silent reminder of his control in this moment, of the power he held with a single stroke or word. he broke the kiss with a playful nip at your bottom lip, his lips lingering close to yours in a taunting reminder of what had been.

geto snorted, rolling his eyes at gojo’s words, an amused smirk tugging at his lips as he watched his best friend’s possessive display. bringing the joint to his lips, he took a slow, deliberate drag, his gaze never leaving the two of you, clearly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him.

“you wish, satoru,” he murmured, a trace of mockery lacing his tone. his eyes glinted with a lazy confidence as he looked at gojo, as though he found the whole display a touch amusing, like he was the only one in on some private joke. he exhaled a cloud of smoke, letting it drift between you all, a faint smirk curling at the corner of his mouth.

“don’t flatter yourself too much, you are here, touching her because i let you,” he added, his voice low and almost taunting. with an unhurried ease, he leaned back, fingers tapping against his knee as he watched gojo’s grip on you. there was a quiet satisfaction in his gaze, like he was reveling in this twisted push and pull between the three of you, his best friend’s possessive game only fueling his amusement.

gojo shot geto a challenging glance, his grip on your throat tightening in response. “oh please,” he scoffed, a dangerous smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, “as if you have a choice, suguru. we both know she’s as much mine as yours,” his voice dropped, a dark edge in his tone as he leaned closer to you, as if sharing a secret.

“and besides, we both know you love...watching me make her fall apart.” he murmured, his lips barely grazing your cheek, a teasing brush that sent shivers down your spine.

your breath hitched, a soft, almost involuntary whimper slipping from your lips as gojo’s grip tightened around your throat, just enough to send a heady rush through your veins. you felt his words settle like a dark promise, the teasing graze of his lips against your cheek sparking a thrill and a twisted ache. but even as the sensation built, you noticed geto’s gaze on you, his eyes flicking from your flushed face to gojo, a silent warning embedded in his expression.

“not too tight, satoru,” geto’s voice cut in, low and edged with a possessive restraint, his words firm. the relaxed smirk was gone now, replaced with a flash of something darker, a reminder that his tolerance had its limits. he didn’t mind sharing you, letting gojo push and tease, but only within a boundary he alone dictated. there was a quiet jealousy simmering under his calm exterior—a need to protect what was originally his, even if he indulged in this dangerous game.

the tension in the room thickened as gojo met geto’s warning with a mischievous glint in his eyes, though he relented, loosening his grip just enough. his fingers softened against your throat, his smirk deepening as he brushed his thumb along your skin in a lingering, possessive touch, savoring the shiver he knew it caused. you could feel the silent power struggle between them—both claiming parts of you in their own ways, both determined not to let go.

“aww, what’s wrong, suguru?” gojo murmured, his tone teasing as he pulled back, his eyes fixed on geto’s, almost daring him to react. he could feel your breathing quicken beneath his touch, the quiet hitch in your throat sending a thrill through his veins.

he shifted, his other hand trailing down, tracing the curve of your jaw with almost casual possessiveness. “we both know she likes it when i’m a little... rough.” his voice was a deep, seductive purr, a challenge and a promise all at once.

and through it all, you remained caught in the middle of their twisted game, a pawn in their power struggle and a willing participant in their twisted desires. you could feel the heat from their touches, the possessive gazes that seemed to strip you bare and claim you at the same time.

“just a little bit tighter,” you heard yourself saying, the words leaving your lips before your brain could register their full meaning. they were both surprised, their eyes flashing with lust and dominance at your bold request. “i know i can take it,” you added, your voice husky and filled with a deep...

a dark gleam sparkled in gojo's eyes, a pleased grin spreading across his face at your bold words. “well, well, well,” he murmured, his tone amused and dangerous all at once, “if our little doll wants to play a bit rougher, who am i to deny her?” he paused, his grip tightening a bit more around your throat as he leaned in, his lips ghosting over yours.

“as long as suguru doesn’t mind sharing the fun, of course.” he teased, his gaze flickering to geto, challenging him to intervene.

a low, daring whisper left your lips, your words laced with a challenge of your own. “he won’t,” you murmured, your voice barely audible, yet filled with conviction. you tightened your hold on gojo, your legs slipping around his waist, pulling him even closer until there was barely any space left between you. a sly smile teased your lips as you watched that dangerous gleam in his eyes flare even brighter at your response.

with a deliberate slowness, you leaned in, your mouth brushing his, igniting a kiss that was as much a taunt as it was an invitation. the thrill of pushing the limits coursed through you, fueling the tension sparking between the three of you. you knew geto was watching, his silent, unyielding gaze never wavering. and yet, despite his possessiveness, he allowed it, that quiet permission hovering in the air, heightening every brush and press of gojo’s lips on yours.

your fingers tangled in gojo’s hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss, each movement charged with a dark thrill. you knew this was exactly the kind of game they thrived on, the thrill of shared control, each boundary tested and savored.

a low, amused chuckle escaped gojo’s lips as you teased him, the feel of your legs around him sending a jolt of desire through him. “seems like somebody’s feeling awfully confident,” he murmured, his voice a soft taunt as he broke the kiss, leaving you yearning for more. he pulled back slightly, just enough to meet your eyes, his gaze wicked and intense, yet with a soft edge that softened his arrogance.

he leaned back, his hands falling from your body, letting go for a moment, but only for a moment, as he reached for something on the night stand.

geto’s eyes remained fixed on the scene unfolding before him, his expression unreadable behind the haze of smoke curling from his lips. the joint dangled forgotten between his fingers as he watched, transfixed, his breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. his free hand slid down his abdomen, tracing the lines of muscle before dipping lower, toward the growing arousal on his cock that already start to harden.

the room was heavy with tension, the air thick with the scent of sex and weed.

but the absence of gojo’s touch was short-lived, as his hand soon returned, a familiar bottle of lube held between his fingers. he smirked, his gaze locked with yours, as he flipped the lid open with a soft click, the sound echoing softly in the quiet room. “let’s see how confident you really are, doll,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a husky murmur as he moved closer to you, his lips finding your ear.

you frowned, a hint of annoyance in your gaze as you looked up at gojo, catching his smirk as he held the bottle. “i told you i don’t like using lube,” you murmured, a defiant edge in your voice. there was a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but he simply shrugged, as if undeterred by your words.

you felt geto’s warm hand rest gently on your head, his fingers threading softly through your hair in a silent reassurance. glancing up, you caught his calm gaze, that subtle smirk on his lips as he watched you, his quiet approval a steady contrast to gojo’s boldness. for a moment, you felt an odd balance between them—the steady, grounded touch of geto and the daring, relentless energy of gojo, already in the process of stripping down. your gaze shifted back to gojo, who seemed unfazed about your disapproval.

“tough luck, doll,” gojo said with a casual grin, his tone light and teasing, as if he wasn’t bothered by your disapproval at all. his eyes sparkled with lust and a touch of playfulness, his fingers moving to his belt to unfasten it, teasingly slow, almost as if making a show of it.

meanwhile, geto’s steady touch continued to provide you a silent assurance, his fingers soothing your hair with a gentle caress. he seemed relaxed yet amused at this unexpected turn of events, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he watched you and gojo.

gojo’s pants and underwear quickly followed, slipping off his fit frame and leaving him bare before you. he stepped forward, a cocky twist of his hips emphasizing his confidence as he came between your spread legs, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing manner.

you frowned, unable to hide your irritation as you shot gojo a pointed look. “you’re so cocky it’s annoying,” you quipped, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. despite your words, you found yourself instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. the moment your lips met, it was electric—his teasing grin melting into something deeper, more primal, as he responded eagerly to your kiss.

gojo’s hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer against him, deepening the kiss with an intensity that set your pulse racing. despite your earlier protest, you felt a thrill coursing through you, the way he melted against you, how his body felt—so confident, so alive. it was intoxicating, that dance between annoyance and desire, and you couldn't help but lose yourself in it as the world around you faded away.

gojo’s hand moved in a swift, fluid motion, yanking the thin sheet away from your body, leaving your bare skin exposed to both his gaze and geto’s steady presence beside you. his blue eyes roamed over you, a mixture of admiration and possession flickering in their depths, as if he were taking in every inch of you, committing it to memory.

beside him, geto’s dark gaze was equally intense, filled with a quieter yet unmistakable pride as he watched you. there was something almost predatory in the way the two of them looked at you, as if they were both savoring the sight, each in their own distinct way. gojo’s hand reached out, brushing along your shoulder, then down, slow and deliberate, his fingertips grazing your skin with an expert familiarity that made your heart race.

“there she is,” gojo murmured, his voice a blend of tease and awe, his hand lingering on you as his gaze flicked briefly to geto, a silent acknowledgment between them. it was a moment that hung in the air, charged and heavy, a silent understanding of the unusual bond the three of you shared.

gojo’s breath hitched as he watched you pull him closer, his cock hardening against your thigh as he ground himself against you, the friction sending waves of pleasure through him. his hand trailed down your side, fingertips dancing along your curves, teasing and exploring every inch of your body. “fuck... you’re so goddamn hot,” he growled, his voice rough with desire.

geto sat back, watching the scene unfold with rapt attention, his own arousal evident in the air. his hand moved slowly, stroking himself painfully slow as he took in the erotic display before him. “that’s it, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and encouraging. “show him what he’s been missing.”

gojo grinned wickedly, his hand slipping between your thighs, his fingers teasing your entrance, finding you wet and ready.

geto’s eyes narrowed as he watched the scene unfold before him, a hint of jealousy flickering across his features as gojo’s hands explored your body with such intimate familiarity. yet, beneath that flash of emotion, there was a sense of pride, a satisfaction in seeing you, his girlfriend respond so openly to gojo’s touches, his best friend.

his grip tightened ever so slightly on your hair, a silent reminder of his presence, his claim over you. his other hand trailed down his torso, fingers brushing lightly over his nipples before dipping lower, wrapping around his semi-hard shaft. he stroked himself slowly, deliberately, matching the languid pace of gojo’s movements above you.

geto’s breathing grew heavier as he watched, the haze of marijuana smoke curling around him adding to the surreal atmosphere before he let go of your hair, afraid he might get the ashes to your beautiful skin.

your breath caught as gojo’s fingers brushed against your entrance, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. you could feel the heat emanating from his body, his hardness pressing insistently against you, and it only fueled the fire within.

“please...” you whimpered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. the plea was instinctive, a desperate need for more, for him to fill you, to claim you completely.

gojo’s smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with triumph and lust. “so impatient,” he purred. gojo’s smirk widened, eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of triumph and lust. “so impatient,” he purred, his tone a mocking whisper that sent a chill down your spine. with a slow, almost taunting motion, he flipped open the cap of the lube bottle, his gaze never leaving yours as he squeezed a small amount onto his fingers.

the cool sensation of it touched your skin, a stark contrast against the heat between the three of you. his fingers worked the slick liquid over your pussy, every movement purposeful, as if he were savoring the way your body responded to his touch. his smirk deepened, reveling in the power he held in this moment.

“i thought you didn’t like using lube,” gojo teased, a wicked glint in his eye as he rubbed the slippery substance over your sensitive flesh. his fingers circled your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and arch into his touch.

geto groaned appreciatively at the sight, his hand working slowly over his own straining erection before letting go. “she loves it, man,” he rumbled. “she just likes to pretend she doesn’t.”

gojo chuckled lowly, inserting one finger into your tight heat, marveling at how easily it slid inside thanks to the generous coating of lubricant. he pumped it in and out slowly, steadily building the tension coiling within you. “you’re dripping for me, angel,” he breathed. “don’t lie to yourself.”

geto observed quietly, puffing leisurely on his joint as he watched gojo work you open with his fingers. he admired the view of your cunt presented enticingly in front of him. geto’s eyes raked over your form greedily, devouring the sight of your voluptuous figure writhing under gojo’s ministrations. a part of him wanted to reach out and touch, to add his fingers alongside gojo’s in stretching you wide, but he stop himself, letting his best friend having his way with his girlfriend.

you gasped sharply as gojo’s finger pushed deeper inside you, your walls fluttering around the intrusion. the stretch burned deliciously, stoking the flames of your desire higher. “ah! f-fuck...” you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily, seeking more of that sweet friction.

geto’s heated gaze followed the line of your body, drinking in every twitch and shudder. he leaned in close, his warm breath ghosting over the shell of your ear as he spoke. “look at you, taking him so well,” he praised huskily, “such a good girl for us.”

the filthy words sent a fresh gush of arousal trickling down your thighs. you could feel how soaked you were getting, your juices mingling obscenely with the lube gojo kept pumping into you before he suddenly stopped and pulled away just a beat to open the drawer by the bed. gojo retrieved the vibrator, its sleek shape glinting in the dim light.

“shhh...” gojo whispered, his finger still buried deep inside you the heartbeat he felt your body tense., feeling your walls quiver around him. “just relax, baby.” he withdrew his digit with agonizing slowness, eliciting a needy whine from you. the toy buzzed to life, its vibrations sending tingles up your spine. gojo pressed it firmly against your swollen clit, holding it there while you thrashed beneath him, lost in a sea of pleasure.

“that’s it,” he purred, watching your face contort in ecstasy. “let it take you.”

geto’s eyes drank in the debauched picture you made, your chest heaving and your thighs trembling as the toy worked its magic. he licked his lips hungrily, transfixed by the way your body responded to their ministrations.

gojo’s grin turned positively feral as he switched on the vibrator to next level, the buzzing filling the air, more intense. “let’s see how long you can last,” he challenged darkly, running the toy teasingly over your sensitive folds without directly touching where you needed it most.

geto inhaled deeply, savoring the rich taste of cannabis mixed with your sweet scent. “you’re playing with fire, bro, you’re about to ruin my girlfriend,” he drawled amusedly, noting the strained tension in your muscles as you tried not to beg shamelessly. he could tell gojo was thoroughly enjoying torturing you with need, pushing your boundaries. he can’t help but smirk while he takes another drag, filling his lung with smoke.

his eyes were glued to the erotic show, gojo now sliding two thick digits knuckle-deep inside your soaked cunt while the toy worked relentless circles around your swollen clit. “god damn, baby.”

the dual sensations of gojo's fingers plunging into your depths and the vibrator's relentless stimulation drove you to the brink of madness. your mind went blank, consumed entirely by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. all coherent thought fled, replaced by a primal urge to chase the peak of ecstasy looming just out of reach.

“please... oh fuck, please!” you begged, your voice cracking with desperation. the words spilled from your lips unbidden, a wanton plea for release. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as the pressure built, threatening to shatter you utterly.

geto’s low chuckle vibrated through you after he takes another drag, a dark promise of things to come. “she’s close,” he observed, his gaze locked on the way your body tensed and quivered. “i wonder how long we can keep her teetering on the edge.”

“oh, i don't know,” gojo replied with a wicked grin, his fingers curling inside you as he felt your inner walls clenching around them. “maybe until she screams,” he added, his voice dropping an octave lower, filled with dark intent.the vibrations of the toy intensified, becoming almost too much to bear. gojo watched, mesmerized, as you arched your back and threw your head back, your mouth falling open in a silent scream. your nails dug into the sheets, the fabric tearing slightly under the force of your grip.

“fuck, look at her,” geto growled, his free hand reaching out to cup your bouncing breast, giving it a rough squeeze. “she’s a goddamn mess.” with a swift twist of his wrist, gojo removed the vibrator, denying you the relief you craved.

you let out a choked sob as the vibrator was abruptly taken away, leaving you empty and aching. your body trembled violently, overwhelmed by the sudden absence of stimulation. tears streamed freely down your face, blurring your vision. “no, please... satoru,” you whimpered brokenly, your hips lifting off the bed in a futile attempt to seek friction. “i need… i need…”

gojo tutted softly, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “ah ah ah, not yet, angel. you don’t get to cum until i say so.” his fingers continued their torturous dance inside you, stretching you wider than ever before. the wet squelch of your arousal filled the room, obscene and lewd. geto hummed approvingly, pinching your nipple hard between his thumb and forefinger.

gojo grinned wolfishly, relishing the power he held over you. your pleas only spurred him on, driving him to push you further. he scissored his fingers apart, spreading you impossibly wide as he pumped them in and out of your dripping core.

“beg harder, sweetheart,” he purred sadistically, leaning down to nip at your earlobe. “convince him of how badly you need it.” geto chuckled darkly, trailing his fingertips down your sweat-slicked stomach before dipping between your legs to collect some of your essence. he brought his coated fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a groan of appreciation.

“delicious,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “almost as sweet as the sounds of you pleading for our cocks.”

desperate, you writhed beneath them, your body a living flame of need. each thrust of gojo's fingers sent jolts of electric pleasure racing up your spine, making you keen with longing. “please, satoru!” you cried, your voice raw with emotion. “need to cum, want it— ohh, god!” your words tumbled out in a frantic rush, each one a desperate plea for release. tears streaked your flushed cheeks as you stared up at gojo, your eyes wild and pleading.

geto’s dirty talk only fueled the fire within you, your pussy clenching greedily around gojo's invading digits. the sight of him sucking your juices from his fingers, the hungry gleam in his eye, made you shudder with anticipation.

ignoring your plea, gojo turns his attention to your boyfriend. he takes his fingers out of your cunt to hold both of your knees, spread them apart. his hips sway slowly, making a way for hardened cock to make contact with your dripping fold, coating his flesh with your essence.

“let me fuck her raw,” gojo said to geto, confidently, his blue eyes form like a twin blue flames. geto might shared you with him, but he also have limits, a bound gojo couldn’t cross, one of them is; fucking you raw and cum inside you. you are his girlfriend after all, and even so, he can get jealous and possessive no matter how nonchalant and unbothered he is about the shared dynamic.

gojo grinned at geto’s concern, seemingly oblivious to the unease it caused. he knew the limits he had set, and he had no intention of crossing them, at least with someone as precious as his best friend’s girlfriend. “i’ll be gentle,” gojo promised— lie, his voice soothing as he rubbed your inner thigh reassuringly. his cock twitched against your slick folds, a bead of pre-cum forming at the tip.

geto’s eyes narrowed at gojo’s bold request, a flicker of jealousy passing through his expression despite his usual nonchalance. he took a long drag from his joint, holding the smoke in his lungs as he considered the proposition.

after exhaling slowly, he fixed gojo with a stern look, his voice low and measured. “now, satoru, you know the rules. no bareback, not with her.” his hand slid possessively over your cheek down to your neck and shoulder, a subtle reminder of your relationship.

gojo smirked at geto’s words, unfazed by the warning tone. he leaned in closer, his breath hot against geto's ear as he whispered conspiratorially, “come on, suguru. where’s your sense of adventure? live a little.”

geto rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement in his expression. “you’re insatiable, you know that?” he accused playfully, even as his own desire stirred at the thought of watching gojo take you bare.

gojo just grinned, undeterred. he trailed his fingers along your knees. “i know what i want,” he murmured, his voice low and seductive. “and right now, i want to feel her tight little cunt wrapped around my cock, no barriers between us.” he punctuated his words with a slow, deliberate grind of his erection against your entrance, coating himself in your wetness. the sensation was exquisite, and he could tell by the sharp intake of breath from geto that he wasn't the only one affected.

overwhelmed by the intense sensations, you moaned loudly, your body arching off the bed as gojo’s thick cockhead pressed insistently against your sensitive entrance. the feeling of his hot skin, slick with your arousal, sent shivers down your spine.

“satoru..” you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily to meet his. “stop talking and fuck me already,” your words were barely coherent, spoken through gritted teeth as you struggled to breathe through the pleasure-pain of being stretched so wide.

geto’s touch on your skin only heightened your awareness, making every nerve ending sing with need. you felt his eyes on you, burning with a mix of lust and possessiveness, and it only fueled your desire to submit to gojo’s advances.

gojo chuckled darkly at your demand, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless. his tongue delved deep, claiming your mouth as thoroughly as he intended to claim your body.

when he finally pulled back, his eyes were blazing with hunger. “as you wish, angel,” he purred, his voice a sinful promise. with agonizing slowness, he began to sink into your welcoming heat, inch by delicious inch— earning a glare from geto for fucking his girlfriend raw.

your gasp turned into a throaty moan as he filled you completely, his girth stretching you beyond anything you’d ever experienced. geto’s hands roamed over your trembling form, tweaking your nipples and caressing your curves as if memorizing every dip and swell.

“look at you,” geto growled appreciatively, his gaze locked on the erotic sight of you impaled on gojo's thick cock. “so fucking perfect, taking him like that.” his fingers found your clit, rubbing firm circles over the swollen nub.

gojo groaned, his hips stilling for a moment as he savored the feel of your tight heat enveloping him. then, with a primal grunt, he began to move— long, deep strokes that dragged across your sensitive walls and made you see stars.

each thrust drove him deeper, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. geto matched his rhythm, his fingers pumping your clit in time with gojo’s relentless pace. the dual stimulation pushed you closer to the edge, your orgasm building with terrifying speed.

“fuck, she’s so tight, can���t believe you let me fuck this cunt with condom on—ohh..” gojo’s words were cut off by a guttural moan as he pistoned into you, his balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust. the sheer intensity of his movements stole your breath, leaving you a mindless, quivering mess beneath him.

geto smirked at gojo’s words, his ego stroked by the obvious envy in the other man’s voice. “what can i say? i like to keep the best for myself,” he replied smugly, continuing his ministrations on your clit.

gojo snorted derisively, but there was no real malice behind it. he focused his efforts on driving into you harder, faster, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from your willing body.

the change in angle hit a spot deep inside you, and suddenly you were teetering on the brink, your entire world narrowing down to the exquisite friction of gojo’s cock pounding into you and geto’s fingers circling your clit.

“oh god, oh god, oh fuuuuck!”

your cries of ecstasy echoed through the room as gojo fucked you with ruthless abandon, his blue eyes blazing with unbridled lust. sweat dripped down his chiseled torso, plastering his silver hair to his forehead as he ravaged your willing body.

geto watched, transfixed, his own arousal straining against the air. the obscene sight of gojo pounding into you, combined with the intoxicating scent of sex, had him teetering on the brink of his own climax.

“yeah, take it all, angel,” gojo hissed, his tempo increasing. “love feeling you squeeze my cock so good.” he reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit after swatting geto’s hand away. pinching and rolling the sensitive bud in time with his thrusts, he coaxed your impending orgasm to the surface.

but before neither him nor you get a chance to drown in the climax, gojo abruptly stops and withdraws himself from your sucking cunt, earning a breathless whimper from you— a wordless way of yours to complain about the losing feeling.

gojo’s hands gripping your waist to position you on your side, leaving your knees before throwing one of your legs over his shoulder while he trapped the other between his thighs. gojo grab a vibrator that he abandoned to the bed earlier before kissing the material to your swollen folds. “hold it, baby,” he said. you obey without a second thought, gazing up to meet your boyfriend’s eyes— realizing you’re on eye level with his hardened cock. geto smirk the moment he gazes down to you, a halo of smoke dancing around the air.

geto smirked down at you, his eyes glinting with mischief as he took in the lewd picture you made. “looks like someone’s eager for a taste,” he teased, his hand coming to rest possessively on the back of your head after he crushed the joint to the ashtray.

gojo just grinned wickedly, positioning the buzzing toy against your entrance. “be a good girl and suck him off while i make you cum,” he instructed, his voice rough with desire.

with that, with a flick of his wrist, he turned on the vibrator, the buzzing motor sending electric shocks straight to your core. gojo pressed it firmly against your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. your back arched, a high pitched whine escaping your lips as the device probed your sensitive flesh, stimulating you. your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more of that delicious friction, even as you leaned forward to take geto’s throbbing length into your mouth. geto groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as he guided you to take him deeper.

moaning wantonly around geto’s thick shaft, you surrendered yourself fully to the overwhelming sensations assaulting your senses. the vibrations from the toy against your aching clit had your toes curling, your thighs trembling with the force of your impending release.

gojo watched hungrily as you sucked his friend off, his free hand stroking his own impressive erection. the sight of you, so wanton and debauched, only served to stoke his own arousal higher. “that’s it, angel,” he praised, his voice strained. “take him deep, just like that. fuck, you look so hot with his cock down your throat.”

his filthy words spurred you on, and you hollowed your cheeks, taking geto as far as you could manage. gojo’s hands finding your thigh, hold it firmly to his chest before his one hand guiding his cock to your pucker hole. his glisten tips kissing your anal sex for a moment before gently pushing into the tighten hole making you squeal in pain and pleasure.

geto’s grip on your hair tightened as he thrust deeper, his hips rocking in time with the vibrations of the toy against your clit. “mmm, just like that, baby,“ he groaned, his thighs flexing against your face. “gonna fill your throat with my cum soon.”

at the same moment, gojo slowly pushed past your initial resistance, the broad head of his cock spreading your anal ring wide. a sharp gasp escaped you as he sank in, inch by delicious inch, until he was buried to the hilt in your tight heat.

“fuck, you’re so tight back here,” he breathed, his hands roaming your sides and back, pulling you flush against him. “loving how you stretch around me.”

geto felt your throat constrict around him as you struggled to accommodate both cocks, and it only heightened his pleasure. once fully seated, both men started to move— gojo setting a deep, grinding pace while geto fucked your face with shallow thrusts. they quickly fell into a rhythm, sandwiching you between their hard bodies.

overwhelmed by sensation, you surrendered completely to the dual penetration, your body responding instinctively to the relentless stimulation. the toy continued its merciless assault on your clit, pushing you ever closer to the edge.

gojo’s hands gripped your thigh bruisingly as he slammed into yo, his thick cock stretching you deliciously. “fuck, fuck, fuckkk,” he grunted, his rhythm faltering slightly. “gonna fill this tight little ass up.” you are laying on your side uncomfortably with your head slightly in the air on geto’s thighs while gojo still hold your leg against his chest, resting about the blade of his shoulder.

geto’s grip on your hair tightened, holding you in place “good, good, fucking good girl. always warm and wet for me,” he panted, his hips snapping forward roughly. your muffled moans grew louder, more desperate, as the coil within you wound tighter and tighter. gojo’s grip on your thigh firm and desperate, almost bruise.

“mmm,” you groan, voice muffled by geto’s cock. the vibration sends geto spiraling, throwing his head back to the headboard just a heartbeat before gritting through his teeth along with him tighten his fist on your hair.

“come on, angel,” gojo growled, his hips pistoning frantically now. “i know you're close. come for us. let go.”

geto grabbed the toy from your hand, pressing it right up against your swollen nub. “you heard him, sweetheart. cum for us like a good girl,” he hums, tugging your head down to take him whole and his tip kissing your throat.

he flicked the toy up to max power, the intense vibrations ripping a scream from your throat. gojo redoubled his efforts, slamming into you so hard the headboard shook. that devilish, wicked smile found its way to gojo’s face once again. “good, good, baby, feels good yeah?” he chuckle when your body trembling beneath him.

unable to form coherent thoughts, you simply existed in a haze of pure, unadulterated pleasure. every nerve ending was alight, singing with ecstasy as gojo and geto worked you over relentlessly.

the toy’s brutal vibrations shattered what remained of your control, sending you hurtling towards oblivion. your inner walls clenched around gojo’s pistoning cock, rippling and milking him as your orgasm crashed over you in waves.

“cum.. gonna cum,” you wailed, your vision blurring at the edges as you came undone. your pussy spasmed, gushing around gojo’s cock as he drove into you. hearing your desperate wailing, geto pressed the toy harder which tears a fluid from your cunt, wetting the bed. “i—oh god, fuckkkk.”

gojo’s eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he felt your pussy clench around him. you quaked and thrashed beneath them, gojo held himself still, buried to the hilt in your clenching heat. geto didn’t relent either, keeping the vibrator humming away at your oversensitive clit, making sure to prolong your exquisite torment. they wanted to draw out your pleasure, making sure to prolong your exquisite torment. savoring the exquisite feeling of your body writhing helplessly around them.

gojo’s rhythm falters for a brief moment, allowing you to catch your breath, then he resumes his relentless pounding, each thrust hitting a spot inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. “fuck yes, just like that,” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

geto watched intently as you squirred, a low, appreciative whistle escaping him. “damn, look at her drench the sheets,” he murmured, turning the toy up another notch. the additional stimulation sent you careening towards another peak, your body trembling and twitching uncontrollably.

gojo’s eyes rolled back, a guttural moan tearing from his throat as he felt your cunt clench around him, milking his cock for all it was worth. “fuck, fuck, angel! good girl, such a good fu-fucking girl,” he roared, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own peak.

geto’s grip on your hair tightened painfully, his hips jerking against your face as he fought to hold back his own release. “not yet, not without her...” he hissed through clenched teeth, his cock pulsing in your mouth.

the toy never ceased its merciless assault, keeping you teetering on the brink of another orgasm even as you were still riding out the aftershocks of the last one. gojo and geto seemed determined to wring every drop of pleasure from you, to leave you a quivering, spent mess in their wake.

your body trembled violently, your mind hazy with lust and exhaustion. the relentless stimulation had reduced you to a babbling, incoherent mess, your pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears.

“please…” you whimpered, unsure if you were begging for release or for them to stop. your body was no longer your own, every nerve ending raw and exposed, sensitive to the slightest touch.

gojo’s thrusts became more erratic, his grip on your hips bruising as he chased his own pleasure. “almost there, angel... gonna fill this sweet ass up.” his words were punctuated by harsh grunts and groans, his rhythm faltering as he neared his peak.

geto’s fingers dug into your scalp, holding you in place as he fucked your face with abandon. “that’s it, baby, take it all,” lost in a sea of overwhelming sensations, you could only surrender to the relentless onslaught of pleasure. your body moved independently of your mind, arching and writhing as gojo and geto took you apart piece by piece.

gojo’s cock hammered into you, each thrust driving you further up the bed. the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your high-pitched keens and geto’s low, encouraging groans. you could feel gojo swelling inside you, his rhythm growing more erratic as he neared his end.

geto’s fingers tightened in your hair, holding you in place as he fucked your face with short, sharp jabs. the toy buzzed furiously against your clit, pushing you inexorably towards another shattering climax.

with a guttural roar, gojo plunged deep, his cock throbbing and jerking as he spilled his hot seed directly into your clenching depths. his hips bucked wildly, grinding against yours as he rode out his intense orgasm, filling you to the brim with his thick, potent cum.

geto groaned long and low, his grip on your hair and scalp flexing with the force of his impending release. he rammed his cock into your mouth one final time, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he erupted with a strangled cry. his cum flooded your mouth, coating your tongue and the roof of your mouth as he pumped spurt after spurt of his release down your eager throat.

the vibrator finally stopped, leaving you limp and trembling in the aftermath of the intense, prolonged pleasure. your entire body shuddered violently as gojo’s hot cum painted your insides, triggering yet another bone-shaking orgasm. your pussy clamped down around him, greedily milking every last drop as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

geto’s release hit you like a tidal wave, his salty essence flooding your mouth and threatening to choke you. you swallowed convulsively, trying to keep up with the deluge as he emptied himself down your throat.

when it was finally over, you lay onto the bed, utterly spent and boneless. your limbs felt heavy, your muscles lax and unresponsive. you lay there gasping for air, your chest heaving as you tried to regain some semblance of coherency.

gojo slipped free of your abused hole with a wet pop, his softening cock glistening with the combined evidence of your coupling. he freed your other leg under his only for him to roll you on your back and push your knees to your chest just so he can take a better look at your abused anal, clenches and unclenches with his thick cum.

geto pulled out of your mouth with a wet slurp, his softening cock slipping free from between your parted lips. he licked your lips, tasting the salt of his release mixed with your saliva. a satisfied smirk played on his features as he admired the sight of you laid out before him, cum leaking from your well-fucked holes and staining the sheets beneath you. “god, baby,” he whisper breathlessly.

between gasping for air, gojo chuckle in satisfaction, admire his handiwork— your stretched, cum-filled holes. he pushed his long, slender two fingers into your ass, watching it disappear into the slick, creamy mess he’d created. “look at you, so full and messy,” he purred, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction.

he pulled his finger free, before spreading your legs open once again to stuffed the cum into your swollen cunt. and the man hum in amusement and satisfied, the combination of your juices and his own cum. the picture made him groan, “fuckkk,” he whisper as he watch your cunt clenched around the cum. he lift his head to look at your flustered face, seeing geto’s cum paint your lips, looked up at you with hungry eyes.

geto wiped the remnants of his release from your lips with his thumb, smearing the pearle scent fluid across your cheek in a perverse marking of possession. he leaned in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as he whispered, “such a good girl, taking everything we gave you.”

geto chuckled to himself, his eyes dark with satisfaction as he watched you squirm beneath gojo's touch. he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans and whimpers. when he finally pulled back, his gaze was heavy-lidded with desire.

“mm, you look so pretty like this,” he purred, trailing his fingers along your jawline, “all marked up and messy with our cum.”

gojo hummed in agreement, his fingers still busy playing with the mixture of fluids leaking from your holes. “mmm, i think our little angel deserves a reward for being such a perfect slut for us, don’t you agree, suguru?”

he pressed two fingers into your swollen, sensitive cunt, stirring up the cum already inside you. your walls fluttered weakly around the intrusion, too tired to do much else but clench feebly.

gojo grinned wickedly, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he withdrew his fingers from your cum-filled cunt. “oh, i have an idea,” he purred, his voice dripping with dark promise.

he glanced over at geto, “why don’t you come over here and help me clean up our little angel?” geto raised an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face as he caught on to gojo’s suggestion. “with pleasure,” he drawled, sauntering over to join the white-haired man.

together, they knelt between your spread thighs, their faces mere inches from your abused, dripping sex. gojo reached out, spreading your folds wide, exposing your tender flesh to their hungry gazes.

“look how messy she is,” gojo said, his tone teasing and approving. “so much of our cum leaking out of her poor, stretched holes. it’s almost a shame to clean her up...”

geto hummed in agreement, leaning in closer to inspect the mixture of fluids coating your inner thighs. “such a beautiful mess,” he murmured appreciatively. he turned his attention to your cum-soaked cunt, watching as it twitched and clenched around nothing. “so needy,” he purred, tracing a finger through the wetness pooling around your entrance.

his finger dipped lower, finding your tight asshole and circling the puckered flesh teasingly. “and so full,” he added with a chuckle, giving the sensitive ring a gentle squeeze.

your breath hitched as geto’s finger circled your asshole, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure-pain through your oversensitive body. your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just happened— the brutal fucking, the overwhelming orgasms, the sheer depravity of it all.

but even as your brain tried to make sense of it, your body betrayed you, responding eagerly to the touch. your asshole clenched reflexively around geto's probing finger, a soft whimper escaping your lips. gojo noticed your reaction, a knowing glint in his eye. “see, suguru?” he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. “our little angel loves having her ass played with.”

geto’s gaze flicked to your face, then back to where his finger was working its magic on your most intimate hole. your entire body tensed as both men settled between your thighs, their heated gazes fixed on your most intimate places. you could feel the cool air of the room caressing your overheated skin, making you shiver despite the lingering heat coursing through your veins.

gojo’s fingers parted your swollen lips, baring your aching core to their view. you whimpered softly as he exposed you further, feeling vulnerable and yet excited by their intense focus on your body.

geto’s teasing touches sent jolts of sensation zinging through you making your hips twitch involuntarily. you moaned breathlessly as he circled your clit, the bundle of nerves still overly sensitive from the intense orgasms they’d wrung from you.

“please... too sensitive,” you gasped out, not even sure what you were wanting anymore. more? less? something in between?

gojo tutted, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “now, now, little one. we can’t leave you all messy like this,” he scolded playfully, his fingers still holding your folds open. “don’t you want to be nice and clean for us?”

geto chuckled darkly, his finger still teasing circles around your clit for a second before finding your puckering hole once again. “mmm, yes, we wouldn’t want my precious angel to be uncomfortable, would we?” his tone was laced with false concern, belying the hunger in his eyes.

geto now seemed intent on pushing past your limits. his finger probed deeper into your ass, stretching the tight muscle incrementally. you bit back a cry, your body instinctively trying to resist the foreign intrusion. “shh, relax,” geto coaxed, his tone soothing despite the boldness of his actions. “let me in and be a good girl.”

as if to emphasize his point, he pressed harder, his finger sliding deeper into your ass until he bottomed out. a strangled moan tore from your throat at the sudden fullness, your inner walls clamping down reflexively around the invading digit.

your body trembled as geto pushed deeper into your ass, the intrusion stretching you wider than you thought possible. you cried out, the sound echoing in the quiet room, your body arching off the bed as another wave of pleasure-pain coursed through you.

your muscles spasmed around geto's finger, gripping him tightly as he continued to push deeper. the sensation was unlike anything you'd ever experienced, the burn of discomfort mingling with the sweet ache of pleasure. you felt yourself teetering on the edge of pain, the line blurring as your body adjusted to the new sensations.

you couldn't help but buck your hips, desperate for some sort of friction. your cunt throbbed, empty and neglected, the need for release gnawing at you. “don’t...” you weakly attempt to stop geto making your boyfriend chuckle in mockery.

gojo smirked at your feeble protest, clearly amused by your predicament. “aww, does my little slut want more?” he teased, pressing his fingers deeper into your abused slit. your cunt clenched greedily around the digits, still craving more despite the copious amounts of cum already filling you.

geto hummed thoughtfully as he began to move his finger in and out of your ass, slowly building up a rhythm. each thrust sent sparks of sensation shooting through you, your body quivering under the onslaught.

“you’re doing so well, taking me so deep,” geto praised, his voice low and gravelly with arousal. “i bet you’d let me put my cock in here, wouldn’t you, baby? stretch this tight little hole even wider...”

your body shook violently as geto’s words washed over you, the dark fantasy he painted igniting a fire within you. the thought of taking his thick cock in your ass, of being split open and filled to capacity, made your head spin with desire once again.

“no, no, baby don’t,” you whimpered, aside from your whimper, you are unable to deny the truth in his statement. your resolve crumbled under the relentless assault on your senses, leaving you a quivering, malleable thing, eager to submit to whatever twisted desires they might have.

geto’s finger pumped steadily into your ass, each thrust hitting that spot deep inside that made your vision blur and your toes curl. your pussy gushed around gojo’s fingers, the slick fluid easing the way as he worked two digits into your cunt now, scissoring them apart to stretch you wider.

gojo’s eyes gleamed with triumph as he watched your body respond so eagerly to their ministrations. he curled his fingers inside your cunt, rubbing against that special spot that made stars explode behind your eyelids.

“that’s it, take it,” he growled, his voice rough with lust, “take our fingers like the desperate little whore you are.“

geto, emboldened by your lack of resistance, added a second finger to your ass, stretching you even wider. the dual penetration had you seeing white, your body convulsing uncontrollably as you teetered on the brink of another earth-shattering orgasm.

“so close already?” geto taunted, pumping his fingers faster. “come on, angel. give us another one. show us how badly you need it.”

your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release. the dual stimulation of gojo’s fingers in your cunt and geto’s in your ass was almost too much to bear, pushing you higher and higher towards that elusive peak.

“mmm, cum, wanna cum!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as you bucked wildly against their hands. your hips moved of their own accord, seeking more of that delicious friction, more of the mind-numbing pleasure that only they could provide.

you could feel your orgasm building, the pressure mounting deep inside you until it finally exploded outward in a blinding rush of ecstasy. your body convulsed violently, your inner walls clamping down hard on the fingers still buried inside you as you came harder than you had earlier.

gojo and geto watched intently as your climax overtook you, their faces alight with smug satisfaction. they didn’t relent, continuing to stroke your throbbing sex and plunder your stretched holes throughout the duration of your orgasm.

“that’s it, milk our fingers,” gojo purred, his voice dripping with sensual approval. “such a good girl, coming so hard for us.”

geto’s expression was darker, his eyes burning with possessive hunger as he felt your insides ripple around his fingers. “fuck, look at her,” he groaned, pumping his digits faster, “so beautiful when she’s lost in pleasure.”

as the aftershocks faded, they slowly withdrew their fingers, leaving you limp and trembling in their wake. your entire body felt boneless, completely spent from the intense orgasms they had wrung from you. you lay there panting, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath, your skin flushed and damp with perspiration.

you could feel their gazes raking over your naked form, drinking in the sight of you sprawled out so wantonly before them. it made you shiver, knowing how thoroughly they had debauched you, reduced you to nothing more than a puddle of sated flesh and needy nerves.

geto’s eyes soften along with his smile. your eyes meet his, interlink with the trembling of your body and crushed cherry on your cheeks, making you as beautiful as ever. he leans down to kiss your forehead. “good girl, such a good girl,” he whisper. “are you tired?” he asked after, the tone of his voice coating with gentleness and tenderness.

“you did...great, doll,” gojo purred, a satisfied grin on his face as he watched you catch your breath.

you could still feel the effects of their combined attention settling in your bones, sending shivers down your spine. the way their eyes lingered on you, taking in every detail of your form, made your heart race, their gaze almost a physical touch on your skin, igniting goosebumps in its wake.

geto’s reassuring words and the gentle kiss on your forehead only heightened this feeling of exposure, vulnerability, and a soft exhaustion that coated everything in a hazy, pleasurable buzz.

a soft, breathy laugh escaped your lips, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze as he spoke, his voice gentle and understanding. “a wreck,” you whispered, your voice a soft murmur, “this was...a lot, even for me,” you added, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

you reached out, your fingers lightly tracing a path along his cheek, your eyes meeting his. “but,”you continued, your tone slightly playful, “i’m happy.” your attention fully on your boyfriend, leaving gojo on the side, making the man roll his eyes in annoyance. how dare you ignore him after he give you the pleasure.

“oh, so it's like that, huh?” gojo teased, his tone a mix of feigned hurt and playful jealousy. as he observed the intimate moment between you and geto, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. he had just given you such pleasure, and now you were focused on his best friend, leaving him out of the moment. the thought sparked a small spark of anger in him, making him want to regain your attention. as you turned your attention back to him, he felt a twinge of victory, but his ego still craved more.

“well, doll, looks like i managed to wear you out,” he joked, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. as his fingers traced lightly along your neck, his touch carrying a soft threat, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of dominance. it was a subtle challenge, a reminder of the power he held over you. he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “but if you still have energy left, i promise i’ll make sure to keep you up all night.”

geto rolled his eyes, an exasperated smirk crossing his face as he slapped gojo’s hand away from your skin, a touch of protectiveness flashing in his eyes. “that’s enough for tonight,” he muttered, his voice firm but calm, his gaze flickering over your tired form. “she’s exhausted, satoru, don’t push it.”

with a dismissive shake of his head, he reached over, grabbing a pillow and carefully placing it at the foot of the bed, ensuring the sheets stayed clean. he pulled you close, guiding your naked, worn-out, marked body against his own, his arms wrapping around you in a secure embrace. his warmth and steady heartbeat offered a sense of comfort, a grounding contrast to gojo’s relentless energy.

as you nestled against geto, he gently ran his hand through your hair, a silent reassurance that he had you, that you could finally rest. his fingers traced lightly over the marks on your skin, a faint hint of pride in his gaze, as if each mark was a testament to the moments you’d shared.

gojo frowned, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes as geto’s voice cut through the air. he watched silently as geto intervened, a soft, but stern command, dismissing gojo’s antics as he wrapped you up in a warm, protective embrace.

his gaze softened, though, his expression filled with a mix of annoyance and amusement. after all, he knew he wasn’t always easy to handle, and he respected geto’s restraint, even if it meant ending their game for the night. he let out a soft, playful chuckle, trying to conceal his disappointment.

despite the flicker of annoyance still lingering in his eyes, gojo couldn’t deny the unspoken boundary that geto had set. he knew well enough that you were geto’s girlfriend, not his, and despite the twisted game you three played, there was always a line he couldn’t cross. so, with a sigh of playful defeat, he grabbed another pillow, placing it beside you as he slid down onto the mattress.

he wrapped his arm around your waist, settling close as he pulled the thin sheet over the three of you, blanketing the room in a soft, cozy warmth. his head rested gently against your bare back, a comforting weight, even as he tried to mask his earlier disappointment with a low, lazy chuckle.

as he lay there, a subtle dampness on the sheet caught his attention—a trace of everything the night had held. instead of moving away, he stayed close, almost comforted by it. for him, that small reminder was proof of the intimacy you’d shared, of a connection deeper than any fleeting frustration.

“rest now, baby,” he whispered, kissing your back without moving his head.

he let his fingers idly toy with a strand of your hair, his eyes fixed on a distant point in the room, his mood still a bit tense. there was a quiet, contemplative silence between the two of you, a subtle tension still lingering in the air. despite this, he didn’t move away, his arm remaining wrapped around your form, a slight smile tugging at his lips as his attention turned back to you.

“hey,” his voice was a gentle murmur, teasing yet affectionate. “next time, i call dibs.”

geto let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his eyes as he reached over and smacked gojo on the back of the head—a light but firm reminder. “if you want to call dibs, go get your own girlfriend,” he muttered, his tone laced with playful irritation.

gojo chuckled, rubbing the spot where geto’s hand landed, feigning a hurt expression before leaning back against the headboard. “aww, come on, suguru, don’t be so stingy,” he teased, flashing a mischievous grin. despite his joking demeanor, he settled into the quiet, enjoying the familiar banter as he kept an arm around you, savoring the warmth of the moment.

geto just shook his head, smirking slightly as he held you close, a silent reminder to gojo that some things were his alone. gojo scowled, rubbing the back of his head where geto had smacked him, a pout on his lips as he responded with a huff. “you know i don’t do relationships like that,” he complained, his voice teasing and lighthearted.

gojo pushed himself up a little, his scowl softening as he leaned down to press a trail of light kisses along your bare shoulder, working his way up to your cheek. you couldn’t help but giggle at the gentle, ticklish touch, a smile tugging at your lips as he finished with one last lingering kiss.

“besides...” he teased, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he glanced between you and geto with a smirk, a firm squeeze of your breast. a playful, teasing gesture that seemed to test the limits of his friend’s patience, although this time, geto’s exasperation seemed to be mixed with a touch of amusement. “this dollie here doesn’t seem to mind at all.”

geto sighed, rolling his eyes, though a small smirk hinted that he found the moment amusing. “she might not mind, but don’t push it,” he warned, his tone light as he pulled you a bit closer, almost as if staking his claim.

gojo chuckled, leaning in to steal another kiss from your lips before pulling away with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he looked over at geto, a playful smirk on his face, and teased with a cocky, “oh yeah?” his tone almost challenging.

geto shot him a pointed look, a mix of warning and annoyance in his gaze, but there was no real irritation there. instead, a subtle amusement hinted at the corners of his lips. he seemed to enjoy this playful back-and-forth between you three, even if he occasionally had to keep gojo in check.

gojo leaned back, his smirk never leaving his face. he knew he was treading a fine line between playful teasing and overstepping, but he couldn’t help himself. he thrived off the thrill of testing geto's limits, pushing just far enough to keep things interesting. the chemistry between you three was undeniable, each of you feeding off the other’s energy in a way that was intoxicating.

geto’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly, a silent reminder that he wasn’t going to be pushed around—his quiet way of asserting his place in this complicated relationship.

as gojo settled back against the wooden board of the bed feet, his gaze shifted from geto to yourself, an amused spark still dancing in his eyes as he glanced at you. “what about you, doll,” he asked, his tone casual, yet laced with curiosity. “have we worn you out, or are you up for a few more rounds today?”

geto rolled his eyes, his arm wrapping possessively around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “don’t even think about it, satoru,” he warned, his voice firm but lacking any genuine anger.

you nestled yourself deeper into geto’s embrace, letting his warmth soothe you as you closed your eyes. a soft, contented sigh escaped your lips, your head resting comfortably against his chest. “mmm… tired,” you mumbled sleepily, barely managing the words as a gentle smile played on your lips.

gojo let out a quiet, amused chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back, though you could feel his gaze still lingering on you. “guess that’s a ‘no’ for me, then,” he teased softly, his tone lighthearted, but there was a fondness in his voice that made you smile.

geto’s fingers gently traced comforting patterns along your back, his touch soothing as he murmured, “just rest, sweetheart.” his voice was soft, filled with a tenderness that only came out in quiet moments like this, and with that, the gentle rise and fall of his breathing lulled you further into peace, making the room fade into a warm, sleepy haze.

geto pressed a gentle kiss into your hair, the sound of his heartbeat beneath you steady and soothing. gojo's playful energy had been replaced by a contented silence, and even he seemed to settle into this peaceful moment, his eyes fixated on your figure.

an almost drowsy haze filled the room, the three in the bed creating a calm bubble within the surrounding silence. it almost felt like the whole world had paused, the moment frozen in a quiet, intimate tableau.

gojo, meanwhile, watched the two of you with a hint of longing. he was playful and often enjoyed being the center of attention, so seeing you resting so contentedly in geto’s arms stirred a slight pang of disappointment within him. he crossed his arms, letting out a soft sigh, almost sulking for a moment as he processed the sight of you so peacefully held by geto. finally, with a resigned sigh, gojo shifted back onto the bed beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist and resting his head gently on your back. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder, surrendering to the quiet intimacy of the moment.

as you nestled into geto’s arms, feeling his gentle kiss pressed into your hair and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, the warmth between you two was comforting and secure. geto, your boyfriend, held you protectively, his quiet strength radiating through his embrace. his presence was reassuring, providing a calmness that made it easy for you to relax.

“fine… let’s just sleep,” he murmured, a trace of a smile on his lips as he settled down, feeling content with the closeness of simply being beside you both. even though geto was your boyfriend, gojo had carved his place in these cherished moments, creating a warm, close bond between the three of you, built on trust, care, and shared affection.

as gojo settled behind you, his arm gently draped around your waist, a sense of warmth and closeness enveloped you. geto’s steady heartbeat and the soft rise and fall of his chest provided a comforting embrace, a reminder of the love and security you had found in him.

gojo’s soft, warm breath tickled the nape of your neck, lulling you into a deep, restful sleep. the gentle touch of his lips against your shoulder created a small, contented smile on your face as you surrendered to the peaceful haze of sleep, feeling loved and cherished by the two men beside you.

[russenoire]

reblogging just for @little-seed's tags. i'm dying.

ritsu having the boring flavorless version of shou's favorite food is so funny to me i know every meal these two share is a nightmare. like shou and ritsu share a box of popcorn chicken and its already a little on the spicy side for ritsu but still tolerable and shou's like "man this is plain :/" and pulls out like 20 packets of chili garlic sauce from his pockets and drenches the whole thing and ritsu had already long since finished his drink so by the time they're done eating ritsu is like shaking and sweating and crying

[melzula]

well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?

zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?

i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂

a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!

summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends

“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”

“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.

“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.

Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.

“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.

You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.

“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”

“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”

“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”

“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.

“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.

“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.

“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.

“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”

“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”

After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.

“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.

“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”

“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.

You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.

| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, omegaverse, subjugation, some type of sexism, bad politics, chemically induced heat? institutionalized reader, doctors, wack rehabilitation program, ish brainwashing

fem reader

You’d been difficult to tame. Or, he just didn’t have the time to do it properly—too busy at work and too tired when coming home. He’d wanted a sweet Omega, one who did house chores when he was away and had dinner ready for him when he got off.

You’d looked real sweet at the auction—a perfectly beautiful Omega. You weren’t cheap either—everyone had made their bids, but he’d been the one to walk away with the prize in the end. He can’t say he regrets it—he still has a fondness for you even though you’re not what he’d thought he’d purchased.

You just need some behavioral correcting. And so, he put you in an Omega institution.

It had been recommended to him. It’s not so uncommon, he later found out while reading up on the place. Auctioned Omegas tend to end up a little rough around the edges—here, at the institution, they’ll smooth those edges right out.

Sadly, there’s been a rise in unstable Omegas as of late—he reads on their website. It’s a misguided revolution taking place in several auction homes that’s to blame for it—circling modern ideas of liberation, equality, andindependence. It all stems from a place of fear, the website explains in detail—Omegas seek to stand on their own in the world. Cooped up in auction homes, they fear they’ll never see the outside without a mate—and as the years dwindle on and their prospects become slimmer, they start fantasizing about doing it on their own.

He feels sorry for you while reading it. Your attitude makes more sense now, knowing you’ve been fed a bunch of deluded nonsense. He can’t blame you for getting swept up in it—you’re a little younger than him, after all. But the silly idea of a lone Omega isn’t just laughable but dangerous. It was best of him to make sure any such notions were quashed—for your own good—before you end up doing something you might regret. 

And it seemed this place was the place to do it. In fact, many of his fellow Alphas had done the same, and they’d all sung this particular institution’s praises.

Oh, but it’s been hard. You wouldn’t talk to him much or even keep him in good company at home, but still, he misses your presence. The house seems so empty without your little everyday spats to keep him on his toes.

You’ve been away for a whole month now, and he hasn’t even been allowed to visit, not once. It would ruin the process, he was told. But he’s been assured that the caretakers there have been making great progress with you. He should be able to come pick you up as soon as the start of next week.

He remembers having been skeptical about leaving you here as he walks to announce himself at the help desk. The facility is pristine and sterile—very impersonal, just like any other hospital. He wonders if you’ve been scared. After all, it’s most likely your skittish nature that makes you so hostile, joined with misgivings making you confused. It can’t be easy. He hopes the doctors here have helped you sort things out. Maybe you won’t be so frustrated all the time.

He was led to a private room where he could complete some paperwork for your release while waiting for your discharge. He made quick work of it. A door opens, and your doctor comes through, and then, following right behind him, there’s you—his pretty little Omega.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you quite so subdued—not even when you’d been caged at the auction, there’d still been some fight to your spirit. Now, not so much—taking quiet and careful steps with your head hung, looking at your slipper-clad feet.

You pick your face up when you recognize the scent, and then you look at him like you’ve just seen a ghost. Wide-eyed and lock-jawed—your breathing picks up rapidly, and his name drops from your lips like a pained whimper, followed by a sudden burst of tears and a rush toward him. “You came back—” 

You’re on him before he has the time to blink—pressed against him tightly, skin-to-skin and heart-to-heart, with your face buried in the grove of his neck. Your claws are slightly drawn, but in no effort to hurt him—rather, to cling to him. It’s not any normal hug—not that you’d ever given him one before—but even so, you’re swaddledaround his neck with your legs crossed at his back.

He’s taken aback by the behavior—it isn’t like you at all. He remembers your aversion to his touch, how you’d regard him like a plague, snarling each time he’d get too close. This was beyond new.

But you leave him no opening to comment either, too busy rambling in meek little whispers pressed into his skin, “Thank you, thank you, thank you—I knew you’d come back—knew you hadn’t forgotten about me. I’m sorry I was being difficult, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’ve forgiven me, right? You’ll take me home now, right? Please—”

He’d never been in a position to soothe you before—you’d never wanted it. He doesn’t know what else to do but smooth a hand over your hunched and shuddering back, shushing you like he’d seen mothers do with their sobbing children. You didn’t look much different right now.

“Yeah… we’re going home,” he assures you. 

You hug him a little tighter as a sob wreaks through you.

This isn’t exactly what he prepared himself for. He thought you’d be... well, he doesn’t really know... nicer?Perhaps. Agreeable. Not so violent. But not this—this broken little ball of shivering sniffles holding onto him as if the world was about to end.

He swallows thickly, then looks at your doctor—he doesn’t seem surprised. In fact, he seems utterly unfazed.

It makes him wonder, a little warily, “What have you done with her?”

The doctor seems more than happy to explain—it’s only customary, after all. He’d paid a lot to have you rehabilitated here.

“Each omega requires special treatment suited to them,” the doctor explains. “Yours was particularly unruly.”

You flinch. He feels your claws dig deeper, but they’re too blunt to draw blood and too weak to hurt anyway. But even so, your sentiments are more than clear—you fear this doctor with your entire being.

“We’ve found that in the case of hostile Omegas, the most effective way to correct their behavior is to keep them isolated and let their own instincts remind them of what they need,” the doctor continues. “Of course, we’ve taken protective measures to ensure she wouldn’t harm herself in said isolation and have fed her accordingly at scheduled times every day.” He smiles. “We can assure you she’s been perfectly safe in the pillow room.”

He lifts the silver suitcase he’d been holding, props it up, and pops the lid, revealing a row of ten syringes—a hot pink fluid within.

“This is our recommended medicine.”

You shudder even more, unrelenting in your grip around him—hanging on so tightly as if you fear someone would come and pry you off him at any moment.

“Give one to her if and when she acts up. More instructions come with the case—please read through them carefully.”

He eyes the syringes with furrowed brows, picking one up to inspect it further. They don’t look like anything he’s read about in the brochure or on the website—perhaps a brand new method for treating Omegas? This is a cutting-edge institution, after all.

He can’t guess what they must do to make you cower like that. The spit-spire he left here a month ago wouldn’t cry over a tiny needle.

“What are they?” he asks.

The doctor’s smile stretches. “Nothing dangerous. All natural hormone components.”

He’s not sure what that entails, and so he quirks a brow while laying the syringe back in its designated mold. “And what does that mean?”

The doctor clasps the case shut and hands it over to him while explaining plainly, “They induce heat.” 

He accepts the case before his ears have the chance to draw back at his words. Now that explains your sudden clinginess—why you’re so frigid.

The doctor adds, “Poor thing’s spent quite a few alone in the pillow room, so I’m sure she’ll be grateful to finally be by her mate’s side again.”

He’s speechless.

Spending heat alone, without any relief, is a form nothing short of torture. If he’d known that was what they were doing to you, he wouldn’t have sent you here in the first place. He very nearly chews the doctor out for using such barbaric methods but thinks better of it. If anything were to be done, it would be through a well-worded and filed complaint and a vow to never do business with them ever again.

Though, coming home with you by his side, still clinging to him… he can’t argue with the results. 

So he doesn’t complain. He just enjoys your new and improved wellness and promises never to use those injections on you himself. Yes, they’d forego their expiration date soon enough, dusting away in the back of his closet. He’d never ever put you through something so horrid. That’s his pledge as your mate.

Oh, but then... the honeymoon phase dissolves. And you return to your old habits of teeth and claws.

It’s never-ending barking with you all over again—you want to leave, you want to be alone, you don’t want him to touch you, you blame him for what you went through at the institution, you hate him for it, and you’ll never ever forgive him.

He doesn’t want to—he swears while holding the syringe to your thigh where he’s strapped you down in bed with ropes and knots—he doesn’t want to, he really doesn’t, but you leave him no choice when you act like a wild animal. 

The first time is always the hardest. But he doesn’t leave you alone in a room like they did at the institution—no, he helps you through it. It’s not torture this way. It’s just… well, what can he say? It’s just a little reminder to get you back on your good behavior.

You would rather stay here than get sent back to the pillow room, right?

It’s all too easy the second time around even though it shouldn’t have been. It was only a day of small uproars, nothing all that bad—refusing to greet him at the door, to make dinner, to fix his plate, to wash dishes, to come to bed. He’d allowed you days like that in the past, but this time, he’d felt himself gravitate towards his so-called last resort once again. 

Still, he’d felt a little guilty about it. 

It would be easier to refrain if it didn’t work like a charm.

Now, he goes and finds the briefcase at the drop of a hat. Say something snarky or look at him funny. Give him any opportunity, and he’ll abuse it—even things you don’t even mean to do, like burning the food, shrinking his clothes in the wash, or forgetting to make the bed in the morning. He’s on you with the syringe deep in your flesh before you can even mouth the words “I’m sorry—”

You’re limp and sweat-drenched after a few hours. He spoons you as the spasms continuously ricochet through you—his spent leaking down your thighs. Even after several rounds, the hormones are still brewing up a bad storm within your gut, thundering in your heart as its lightning zips along your limbs. Your head is a rainy cloud—heavy and full yet soft like cotton.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to—it was an accident—” you mumble between labored breaths, not entirely sure what error you’d made this time, shivering against his warm chest as he cups your breast in one big hand and your swollen cunt in the other.

“I know, I know it was, baby,” he coos. “But you need to be more mindful—can’t be making so many mistakes all the time.” His lips brush your skin as he purrs, placing small pecks against your cheek and neck. “How can I trust you with my pups if you’re gonna be such a scatterbrain, hm?”

The mention of pups makes something roar more ferociously in your underbelly, and you whimper meekly in return. “I’m sorry—I’ll do better.”

“Good. I’m sure you’ll get there, sweetie.”

The storm within crackles, rumbling with a deepening hunger. Even though you feel battle-worn and ever ready for the sweet escape of sleep, there’s something even needier and heedless that makes your body feel all but set ablaze.

You’ve cum so many times already, but it’s still not enough—it’s never enough. It takes everything in you to make sense of his words—to act civil even when all you want is to jump his bones—make him fuck you until your fever breaks, then allow you rest.

But act in any way out of turn, and he’ll only drag this out. Be sweet, you remind yourself—sugar, syrup, honeycomb—sweet and soft like velvet—no teeth or claws or growling. No matter what, don’t let the animal out of the cage.

“No matter how many lessons it’ll take…” he murmurs. “I’m here to help.”

“Thank you—” you wince while rubbing your thighs together—grinding against his hand in desperation. “Can you… can we—”

He chuckles fondly, feeling you rub your ass back against his crotch wantingly. “Oh? Another round so soon?” 

You bite your lip at his teasing. Far beyond proud to not be begging, “Yes, please—pretty, pretty please—”

The sweet warble in your voice is so pitiful and cute—he can’t help the smile it brings him. “Alright, honey,” he hums while shifting, getting up with a hearty sigh, then leaning over you to give your pleading little pout a kiss. He feeds you his next words with a grin on his face, “Let’s see about that needy pussy of yours.”

He spreads and shimmies himself between your aching thighs, nice and snug against the weeping little thing between them—looking down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and a smug smile that makes you feel like the most hopeless little Omega in the world.

He places another kiss upon your forehead—dwarfing your hand in his big one, braiding your fingers together while the other carries his meaty cock, holding it steady up to your fluttering and glossy slit. 

The size never fails to make you squirm as you look down at it—wondering why you crave it so badly when it only serves to make your body twist and scream from the stretch it gives you.

 “Don’t worry, sweetie,” he soothes the tiny cry that cracks from your throat once he starts easing the length inside the snug comforts of your walls. “Your Alpha’s here to make it all better.”

♡ BNHA – old man Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Enji ♡ JJK – Nanami, Geto, Kusakabe ♡ HQ – Daichi, Ushijima ♡ AOT – Erwin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[curryshesus]

jeon jungkook fics that had me going feral

hi guys, here's a part 2 to my favorite jjk fics on tumblr! note that many of these fics contain 18+ content. you are responsible for the content you consume! as always, if you enjoyed any of these fics as much as i did, please take a moment to send some love to the authors! part 1 | other bts members

➺ cold nights & blurred lines - by @awrkive

summary: jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

➺ night crawlers - by @alphabetboyluvr

summary: jungkook’s always been good at running. track, field, red lights, shit outta luck. drugs, now, too. but he doesn’t expect to run into you. in your shared lecture halls, sure. maybe. but not down the back alleys of daerim at ass o’clock in the morning. there are only three types of women he ever sees in daerim: hookers, sugar-babies and addicts. you aren't any of those; you're a trust-fund baby who can get percocet on private repeat prescription, if you really want it. he's sure of it. so it then further begs the question: why the fuck are you here?

➺ this is how you fall in love - by @jeonqkooks

summary: after years of drinking and clubbing most days of the week and leaving every gig with a different girl on his arm, jungkook feels what it’s like to want someone with his entire being.

➺ the dilf installments - by @mercurygguk

summary: this series follows jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time? read the installments below to find out!

➺ ultimatum - by @parkmuse

summary: your pervy, idiotic boyfriend just so happens to also be your friendly neighborhood Spider-man (in bed).

➺ a hero's journey - by @hansolmates

summary: jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story

➺ tempest - by @kooktrash

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

➺ by its cover - by @gimmesumsuga

summary: the one where Jungkook makes a horrifically bad first impression.

➺ slow dancing - by @yoonia

summary: when your countdown appeared on your wrist right in the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.

➺ e s p r e s s o - by @joonberriess

➺ hold me closer - by @ahundredtimesover

summary: when you're asked to look after your parents' house and meet them before they go on vacation, you, Jimin, and Jungkook take the trip to your hometown of Busan and relive memories of your youth. While your new relationship has you feeling like a lovesick teenager with all the affection that Jungkook shows you, you're still you - a professional trying to make it in the corporate world, and an eldest child trying not to disappoint her parents. And that turns out to be your undoing, as a little blunder causes a rift between you and Jungkook, resulting in a trip that you might as well have messed up… Not if your brother can help it, though.

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° sniper, sniper, sniper ♡ wifey, wifey, wifey

( bllk boys showing you off )

♡ a/n — i just love the tiktok trend so :) ( was going to attach a link to a tiktok showing what i was talking abt but it wouldn't work. just look up sniper sniper sniper wifey wifey marines and you'll see what i meant :) )

♡ content — all characters are 18+ !!, mentions of tiktok & instagram, slight cursing, tbh bad writing, nicknames like 'love' , 'wifey' , and 'my girl' used, probably ooc characters

♡ synopsis — blue lock boys showing off their girlfriend :)

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' oh that's your wifey ? ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...tiktok maker

if there was anyone you would really and truly call chronically online, it would be him. every day he'd come to you with some new word he learned from tiktok, or a meme that would plague your house for weeks until it went away.

so when he pulled out his phone to show you a video, you weren't expecting it to be a couples trend.

" please, please, pleaseee, love? you'd look so cute in my arms like that ! " and he had just won a big game...how could you say no to him?

so here you were, being carried like a bride in your lovely boyfriend's arms. if it were anyone else, you'd be too worried about how long they could hold you, but since it was him you didn't worry.

it took a few tries, each of you messing up a part at least once and you accidentally dropping the phone a few times, but after you figured it out, the video was practically perfect.

they posted it to their public tiktok account with the caption

' not my wifey yet, but soon ;) '

and to say all the notifications were making his phone glitch would be an understatement.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ BACHIRA MEGURU, hiori yo, SHIDOU RYUSEI, chigiri hyoma, OTOYA EITA, isagi yoichi

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...instagram poster

maybe, just maybe it was wrong of him.

wrong of him to want to post these pictures the two of you had taken on your date to the aquarium?

if he were any other, normal, person this wouldn't have seemed like a big deal, but since he had at least a million followers and some were a bit more obsessed than others, it was.

you'd told him multiple times that you were okay with him posting you, really if he was happy, you were happy. maybe it was the egoist in him, but he wanted to keep you to himself.

fuck it.

if you wanted to be posted, he was going to post you. who cared what anyone else thought? their opinions didn't mean anything to him.

he selected a few of the pictures the two of you had taken at the aquarium, sneaking one of a lipstick stain on his neck in the middle of the slides.

if he was going to announce his relationship to the public, why not let the world know how utterly whipped he was for you?

the caption was a simple

' gotta love my girl ♡ '

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ YUKIMIYA KENYU, karasu tobito, REO MIKAGE, alexis ness, RANZE KURONA, gin gagamaru

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the...national television?!

the ever illusive pro soccer player. that's what every press agency called your boyfriend.

his ability to somehow dodge any paparazzi and answer very short questions during press conferences made every view into his personal life shine like gold.

based on an instagram story ( that was taken down in less than 10 minutes ) where a picture of him with his arms around a woman in a bathroom mirror, the media could assume he was in a relationship. in that photo, however, the woman's face was not visible, so the questioned still remained...

what woman could capture this mans heart?

he hadn't cared, not really. a photo was nothing to him, but you were everything. he tried really hard to keep your identity private, he didn't want you to be absorbed into a world of cameras always in your face.

but after he made the game winning goal of a very important game...all he wanted to do was see you.

maybe it was the way he could see you in the section you'd always sat, or maybe it was his ego wanting to tell everyone "yeah i'm the best soccer player, and yeah i have the best girl, what about it?"

as all of the adoring fans rushed the field, including you, he just wanted to see you. he knew, realistically, he should just go back to the locker room and come meet you afterwards like he usually did, but not today.

he shrugged off ever reporter and fan that wanted to talk to him, which was nothing new, but instead of leaving to the locker room, they watched as he walked over to you

he knew all eyes were on him, the world still watching...but he couldn't find it in himself to care. he wrapped his arms around your waist

" made that goal for you, ya know? "

you were a little surprised at his appearance, but if he didn't care neither than you.

" i know. "

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, rensuke kunigami, RIN ITOSHI, shidou ryusei, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, sae itoshi

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' i think i like her . ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was a midnight brain dump so it's pretty bad, but i hope yall liked it :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!!

[whore-ibly-hot]

Yandere Boarding school thoughts... (Gender Neutral)

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Multiple yanderes, non-con touching, dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, bullying, masturbation, aphrodisiacs, general perversion, dry-humping, voyeurism, controlling behaviors, typical yandere stuff, breeding, drug usage, horny posting.

(AN: I have rizz-en from my grave to be horny once more. All of these guys are avaliable for requests, but will be listed under the materlist simply as Yan!Boarding School.)

Background: Thinking about a Headmasters child!Reader at a private boarding school. For a Fem!Reader, perhaps you're just visiting daddy for the season while he's running the school, or maybe you've been bad, and need more supervision. For a Masc!Reader, it could be the same case, however, with Blackmoore Academy being an all male school, this opens up the availability for reader to be attending.

Student scenarios and profiles:

◇ Harrison Spence, star member of the swim steam, basketball player, and golden boy. Despite jock stereotypes, he's respectful and mature. He always looks out for others, and this lends to why your father suggests rooming with him. Plus... if anything were to happen, your father wouldn't hate to have him as a son in law. He's SOOO friendly when he meets you. Those big strong arms are perfectly suited to lug your bags upstairs to his room. Want help putting stuff away, sure! For a Fem!Reader, he's not suprised how awkward he is when he's unzipping your suitcase, only to be met with some thin lacy garments. He just coughs and backs off. For a Masc!Reader, he wears boxers too! So why does he still feel so hot. He should open a window.

He'll make sure you fit in around campus, mostly steering you in the direction of the athletics department. He'd love to see you at some of his games, cheering him on. You seem so nice, he could really seem himself with you long term, the more he thinks about crushing on you. Besides, you already share a living space. He feels awful about how his body reacts anytime you're too close. You left a jacket behind that smells just like you? He tries not to think about the consequences of fisting his cock into it. Late night out at one of his games? Who cares if you share a dorm and your bed is literally six feet away, it's too far of a walk. Slide into his bed, he's a gentleman. At least until he wakes up the next morning, mind foggy as he instinctively moves his cock up over the waist band, putting a leaky tip against your ass as he resists the urge to press his head into your neck, opting for a pillow instead. He's so, so sorry, but he's gott a deal with it, and you just feel so good. He rationalizes it by saying he's not just some horned up guy, no. You're his roommate, HIS. And what would the Headmasters think! No, he wants a future with you, romance, not just a warm hole to rut...

"Hey, roomie! Listen, practice is running kinda late tonight, so I'm gonna grab food on the way back. Why don't you text me your order, I can bring it back. We can make a whole thing out of it, no need to pay me back! I'm thinking burgers?"

◇ Carter Matthews, student body president, scholar, and in every AP class possible. Even some dumb ones. He doesn't pay much mind to you, you ate very attractive but so is he. If he felt the need for a relationship, he could get whomever he wanted. But he hates... hates how you make the other students, even some of the faculty act. He can't help but follow you around, making sure you obey curfew, and don't get into any trouble. He likes to keep order around here, and it bothers him to have to ignore his student body presidential duties to make sure some delinquent isn't trying to slip you a spiked drink, or some jock has you under the bleachers trying to get your mouth wrapped around their tips.

Eventually, he decides you could be helpful instead of a hinderance. He's busy, may need a form of stress relief, and given babysitting you when Harrison isn't around is one of the main sources of that stress, why shouldn't you help him out. Besides, you look so cute flustered. Maybe it starts small, he tells you your uniform bottoms aren't regulation, and while he tugs them down to 'fix' them, his hands wander a bit too much, grazing the soft skin of your ass. During random room inspections, he may let his hatred of the sports program taking up all the funding by mentioning how obvious it is your roommate wants to stick it in you. Harrison can't stand him, not trusting the cold creepy gaze of the prefect. He'll force you to come to student council meetings, under the guise of assisting him with preparing for a faculty dinner to appease your father, only to get you under his desk while he writes, trying to guide you with one stern hand. He doesn't like to go too deep, not one to enjoy gagging or unnecessary sound that would distract him from working.

"Keep it down." He scolds, cold eyes peering down through blonde bangs. With a sigh, his free hand strokes your cheek. "Just suckle, alright? There'll be plenty of time after I'm done for you to make sweet noises around my cock..."

◇ Evan Reed, CAPTAIN of the swim team, and student assistant PE coach. He's used to play basketball alongside Harrison, but got kicked out for being too violent. Shoving, pushing, and going as far as knocking teeth out. He's a fucking animal. He's handsome, of not a bit of a loner. He isn't popular or unpopular, people tend to leave him alone because of that bad boy attitude and his temper, but he's always welcome to party with the jocks, welcomed into parties and known as a keg-stand king. And boy do you catch his eyes, giving that your always hanging off Harrison, or being trailed by Carter. He's more than happy to accompany you to the pool or help you out in gym class, but it's obvious what he wants. He'll get up behind you in the pool, still smelling of cigarettes as he asks mundane questions while trying to pull your swimsuit to the side and get his hands on that sweet spot between your thighs. Or maybe he'll sit on the edge of the pool, congratulate you on how good your doing, legs spread as he pulls you between them, hoping you'll end up accidentally eyeing his cock. If you are a Masc!Reader, then there's definitely some internalized homophbia. He'll make sure you know these are just normal friend activities, even when he's got you bent over in the boys locker room, ass up. He doesn't EVER plan to be the one on the bottom.

He's a player, chasing tail outside of the school, hitting on peers sisters and mom's alike. But now, he plans to keep you around, not because he necessarily feels like he wants a romantic relationship with you, but because he loooooves how pissed it makes Harrison. He never liked the goody two-shoes, and half suspects he's one of the people who pushed to get him kicked out of basketball. He likes to pick on people, but Harrison sees himself as a knight in shining armor. So it gives Evan a major power boner to make you grind up against him on the dancefloor at some preppy party, while Harrison just has to stand by and not crush his beer can. Evan knows harrison will never, ever do anything to ruin your good guy image of him. Ever.

He's pissed, punching a locker as he let's out a growl. 4-0, what the fuck is wrong with his team? How could they get fucked over so bad after weeks of missing parties for shitty practices. Luckily for him, he sees you on the sidelines, probably waiting for Harrison to walk you back to your dorm. He takes this opportunity to slide up behind you, hands on your hips as you can feel his angry erection rutting up against your ass. "You. Me. Locker room, five minutes, stall three. Be ready, underwear off and bent over or I'll take you in front of the guys who are still changing? Got it?" He departs with a harsh smack on your rear.

◇ Joseph Mick, he's in the newspaper, but it's not like he's the head or anything. He just love photography, and he's the only guy at school to have really mastered the dark room. He's known to be a little... odd. He's the youngest in you and Harrisons class, with a petite stature and thin, lanky arms. He's pale, almost gaunt, but that could be a lack of sunlight given that he spends all his time in the dark room or toiling over photo arrangement mock-ups in the journalism room. People avoid him, but he's okay with that. He's more than happy to just watch from a distance, and photography is his real branch to the world. People only talk to him or react positively if he's taking photos for the paper or the school newsletter. He actually meets you at one of Evan's swim meets, he gets good seats for being student press, and you get good seats for just being Evan's new favorite piece of ass. Your aren't even sure why you were invited, you don't even know anything about how one wins a swimming competition. But Joseph does. He's been to enough of these, and you notice, so you lean over and start asking him questions. He's shocked someone is talking to him, and not about getting a bigger feature in the yearbook. He's more than happy to help point stuff out to you, even if he had to repeat himself or stutter his way through something. He's feeling his heart flutter and his hands shake so much so he can barely hold the camera. Soon, he's watching as you walk away, wishing he could grab onto you and hang you up on his wall to admire like one of his pictures. It's only made worse when he sees a pair of masculine arms dragging you into the boys locker room.

He's a stalker, but it's not his fault! For one, he's got no idea how to approach anyone, much less someone he likes as much as you. And since he's got that reputation as a creep, if he approached you in public, Harrison would be polite but firm at shooing him away, Carter would give him a look that makes him feel like a worm beneath his well polished shoes, and Evan would beat him to the brink of death, but then pass him over to his friends. But God, if he didn't think it was worth it sometimes to just be close to you. He can only get as close to you as his high-focus lens will allow. He's got hundreds of photos of you, some taken by him, some by campus security cams, and he treats each one like the piece that's gonna get him into a top art school. He almost feels bad taking risqué shots of you. He's always following you, and he sees the ways those... those pigs are treating you. If he could stand up to them, he would. He sees (from the cameras he's slipped into your bag) the boner Harrison is always sporting when he in your presence, he even caught a glance of Harrisons late night rendezvous with your pillow. He sees the way Carter leads you through the hallways like his little secretary, lithe fingers trying to get up your uniform bottoms. Worst of all is the way he sees Evan humping you in the pool like a dog in heat, with you obviously unsure about how you feel about this. He knows he'd treat you right, if you'd ever consider being with something like him. Notice he almost feels too bad to take risqué pictures. He can't help it if a picture or two from one of his hidden cams has a bit of an upskirt, or gets a little to zoomed in on your pecs. But know that as he drums humps the table in the dark room, those copies are only so he can keep one in his room and one on his person! He'd never, ever share your sexual exploits, not like Evan would, always bragging about what he does with, or more likely to you.

Being on the newspaper staff, he's got a pretty good idea of everyone's schedules. He's more than happy to try and squeak out some words to you if he knows your many admirers are preoccupied. Trust him, he knows A LOT of good spots to share a meal privately or maybe... maybe you'd like to see the dark room? He's even got a pillow in there, a cushion he can place on a soft stool in case you ever came to visit. He hopes he could get a private photoshoot in, maybe with some silly pictures of you, or even some lewd pics, he's just happy to see his collection expand. He doesn't have a lot of money, but he's more than happy to buy you as much cheap vending machine food as you want as long as you'll spend time with him.

"Oh, shi- hey! I didn't realize you'd be stopping by here. I'm just, uh, editing some photos for the paper." You don't notice as he slyly moves a tray of pics taken outside a dorm window that looks suspiciously like yours. He thanks whoever is out there in this moment that the dark room has a sink as he keeps his right hand out of sight.

◇ Tyler Mertz and Percy 'Pez' Goldberg, two outsiders, and self proclaimed 'dudes with bad tudes'. Put into the same headcanon spot because they aren't ever seen apart. Tyler and Pez got in on scholarship, and immediately bonded because they know they don't fit in among the rich kids at Ridgemoore. Tyler got in on a scholarship to pursue culinary excellence, because if he can do one thing, it's cook. Pez was awarded a scholarship by lottery two years ago, and even though he's barely passing most of his classes and is the biggest delinquent in school, he can't be kicked out. The school made too much of a big deal about his acceptance to create some good press, the faculty are planning to just wait the problem out. Repeating a year hasn't helped with that, though. Still, they are attached at the hip. Both struggle in classes, Pez because of a shitty social life and even shittier focus, and Tyler because he's just a little slow. Still, Tyler excels in cooking, and the faculty know he's trying. There's a few ways you might come across the pair. Maybe you decided to take culinary, and got paired up with a sweet, dopey guy who turns out to be a fucking MasterChef, or maybe your a brat!reader, like I mentioned earlier, and you meet Pez in detention, where he's glad to know the schools newest troublemaker is a looker too. Most likely, you come across them when either Evan makes you tag along to buy some weed and half-priced shitty beer for a post-game party, or Carter tells you he'll personally see to it that your father tethers you to him if he sees you talking to those 'deliquents'. Either way, they're probably some of the nicest guys in the school, even though Pez likes to fight. He's not a bad guy, but the school can't seem to recognize half of the shit he does is in retaliation to someone fucking with him or his friend.

Pez will like any kind of reader, any. If you're bratty!reader, he loves having someone to run around and bust shit up with. But he'll promise to leave the statue of your father alone, if that's what you want. If you're an innocent!reader, he can't deny he'd love to ruin that good guy/girl image you have going on. Smoke a little weed, sneak out a little, let him show you a good time. He promises he won't cross any lines or do something that would really scare or upset you. He's not a bad guy, he just wants to show you there's so much stuff out there to do. Unlike Joseph, he doesn't let the fact that others think he's a freak keep him from hanging with you. He wants them to see that you like him. HIM. He thinks your adorable no matter who you are, and frankly, snuggling up on the Headmasters kid is just another act of defiance he's happy to flaunt. Eventually, he might even open up to you about his shitty home life, and the fact he's only called Pez cause' when he's high that candy is all he wants to eat.

Tyler is a huge softie. He doesn't let the thing people say about him get to him, mostly because he's a bit dense in the moment to know he's being made fun of, but also because he's okay with being alone. He's happy with who he is, a nice guy. But, that doesn't mean he doesn't love his best buddy, or mind adding you to there little group. It's just one more mouth to feed in his eyes. He'll walk you to all your classes, slinging his big arms around you and keeping you close to his side. Unlike Pez, he grew up with a pretty loving family, and they're what he misses most about being away at boarding school. Most of the money he makes selling weed with Pez goes back to his family, but they don't really know how he makes it. He comes to see you and Pez as his new little family.

With these two, there will be lots of late nights with bad movies and pizza made from scratch. Being on some rundown couch squished between to large bodies, at least one set of arms wrapped around your waist. I think they both are pretty open about telling each other about the crush they have on you, given that they are best buds. These idiots probably got super high one night, and Tyler let slip that he, quote, 'thinks he wants to put a baby in you', to which Pez replies he'd like to put something along those lines in you too. It wouldn't be hard for them to both come to terms with wanting to share you, they share everything else. They just hope you'd want both of them, Pez and Tyler can't stand the thought of making things awkward by you only wanting one of them, so they both subtly try to transition you into the roll of being their partner.

Pez would be fucking fuming when he starts realizing the things boys at school are doing to you. Whether he witnesses it himself, or you come to him and Tyler seeking comfort, he'll pound the shit out of anyone who tries to touch you like that. If you like someone else, Pez wouldn't wail on them to eliminate a rival like Evan would, but rather he hands it over to Tyler. Tyler would come up with some rumors, maybe a reason the guy isn't right for you, and why would Tyler lie? He doesn't feel great about lying, but thinking about the things guys at this school do to you, fills the sweet chefs stomach with a bitter bile.

They wouldn't outright pressure you into sex, but rather try and find ways to coerce you into requesting or initiating it. Pez has some weed laced with something, nothing too strong, but it'll make even a nun feel a little frisky. He'll lay back or rub your thigh, hoping the weed will relax you enough to come out and say what you want. Maybe an aphrodisiac or two gets slipped into a warm drink Tyler made for you. It gets you feeling all hot, but don't worry, you can stay in their room overnight and wear their clothes, so they can... make sure you're not sick or anything.

"Hey," you can feel a pair of arms wrap around you from your spot at the library table. You look up and see Pez, with Tyler now playfully laying his head on the table beside you. "Heard that shithead Evan's got an away game, so it looks like your freed up after all to spend a little time with your favorite guys." His lips are dangerously close to your ear, making you squirm. "Yeah, man, we've got a bunch of movies n' shit from the store, and I'll even make your favorite. Stay the night, it's not like we've got anywhere to be tommorow, and my beds so cold..." Tyler teases playfully, eyes wide and feigning sadness.

All these boys make it difficult to get any alone time at Ridgemoor, but the men certainly don't make it easier... (Taboo part two with the faculty coming soon, because I'm horny for Dilfs and old men with questionable dynamics with reader.)

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care

You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.

Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.

After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.

But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.

Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.

When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.

You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.

After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong. 

None of it was a choice you should have to make. 

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give. 

Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.

Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.

So that left Sarah. 

It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through. 

The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.

Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.

Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.

Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone. 

You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.

Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.

The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.

But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people. 

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean. 

Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.

She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.

You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.

You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you. 

Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.

You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.

You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.

You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!

You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.

Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.

You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.

One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?” 

You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.” 

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either. 

Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.

This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.

Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.

You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.

Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.

Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.

"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.

How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?

You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you. 

Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.

You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.

The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.

 “You should sit down.”

It felt like a sidekick to your chest.

The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset. 

Except this was real.

Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.

You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.

“Go away. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move.

He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical. 

“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”

“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”

“I wasn’t—"

You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”

He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.

“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.

He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.

“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.

The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.

“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”

JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.

“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.

“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”

“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”

You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.

You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.

"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."

You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle. 

She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"

JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”

You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.

God, he could be so exasperating.

He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.

As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over. 

“Don’t you have something better to do?” 

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you. 

You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.

Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.

He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break. 

Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.

“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm. 

“I told you, I’m fine.”

He let go, but he didn’t back away.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people. 

He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.

You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day. 

The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.

You couldn’t let him find out about the baby. 

Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion

“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away. 

You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.

Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach. 

You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel. 

Rafe. 

Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.

“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.

He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”

“Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”

“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”

He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you. 

“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”

“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”

He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.

“Not happening.”

Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle. 

Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.

His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.

“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”

You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.

Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.

You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms. 

How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.

Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face. 

“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.

You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?

You hated yourself for caring at all.

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.

This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter. 

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes. 

“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”

You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else. 

“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”

He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."

You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.

It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.

You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.

But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.

“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”

“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience. 

“Put me down!” 

You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate. 

“Rafe, I swear—”

He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.

He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.

“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again.

You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit. 

“Get your hands off me.”

His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”

For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here. 

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. 

A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. 

 "Yeah? Get in line."

Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.

You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape. 

He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.

You’d already shown him too much. 

You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.

You were seething. He had no right to do this.

The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.

You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.

He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.

You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over. 

“C’mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”

You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going in.”

Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.

“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”

“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”

“And what?” you interrupted.

“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”

Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”

“You’re not coming in."

He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.

“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”

You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him. 

“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.

Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.

You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.

“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”

You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.

“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”

“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”

You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.

“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”

“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”

This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.

She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.

“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”

A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance—God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”

She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”

You shook your head. Please, just let this be over. 

“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”

“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”

Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode. 

Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.

“Just head down to Room 12.”

All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.

This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.

The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.

They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.

When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.

But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.

The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.

You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.

Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.

“Yeah, I got someone.”

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