#so every relationship he ends up in would be

[lovemomhatepolice]

i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

navigation taglist requests

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[rafesangelita]

౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 deciding to host the biggest house party on figure eight, you and rafe cut celebrations short after a heated game of beer pong.

warnings: established relationship, alcohol consumption, irresponsible drinking, rafe takes a body shot off of reader, unprotected sex, rough sex (?), rafe puts you in a chokehold <3, dirty talk, praise, overstimulation

wc: 1.1k

everyone knew your parties were absolute ragers, with strangers filling out every corner of your house, and the cops always shutting the place down at the end of the night, to say your parties were the most anticipated on the island would be an understatement. even now as you and rafe challenged one another in a classic game of beer pong, you were sure there was people passed out drunk somewhere. “loser has to take a body shot.” rafe walked around the table, his hand sneaking under your skirt as he passed by. he loved threatening you with a good time.

you rolled your eyes, your best friends cheering you on as you and rafe went round after round until you both only had one more cup left. rafe had a look in his eye that was all too familiar. you knew he secretly wanted to lose, the terrible throw of his ping pong ball confirming your suspicions of him missing on purpose. “aww, are you letting me win?” your smile was the epitome of perfection, your boyfriend motioning for you to go as he grabbed a bottle of tequila from topper. sure enough, an excited squeal left your lips as the little ball landed straight into rafe’s red solo cup.

rafe pretended to be disappointed, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat when he downed the last of the burning liquor. truth is; rafe wanted to get his hands, and mouth, on you since the second he saw you walk down the stairs in that pretty little outfit of yours. if losing to you meant he could run his tongue up your soft flesh and cop a feel of what was under your sequined top, then that’s what he was going to do. rafe walked over, grabbing your hand as he guided you on top of the table. the crowd burst into a fit of cheers, your cheeks heating when rafe gave you a little wink.

you laid flat against the hard surface, your fingers pulling at the hem of your skirt. glancing down at your hands, rafe cursed under his breath when his favorite thong peeked through your bottoms. “you’re in trouble.” rafe slipped off his shirt, laying the article of clothing across your lap so no one else can steal a glimpse of what was his. everyone was hollering as all eyes fell on you and rafe, nervous butterflies fluttering in your tummy. leaning down, rafe licked a stripe up the column of your throat, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss.

after what felt like an eternity, you sighed blissfully when he pulled away, wasting no time in placing a lime between your lips. “you gonna be a good sport and take this for me?” he unscrewed the bottle of tequila, your stomach flipping in excitement. “sí— yes.” as soon as that word left your mouth, rafe tipped the bottle over, the cold substance sending a shiver down your spine. topper and kelce stepped closer, the flashlights to their phones blinding your vision as rafe’s tongue flattened against your skin, the warm muscle moving all the way up to the valley of your breasts.

“no bra?” he teased, licking all the way up to the underside of your jaw. taking the lime from your mouth with his own, everyone erupted in cheers when rafe stood up, topper jumping in the air as he saved the video to his camera roll. you would definitely need to see that later. rafe helped you up from the table, making sure your outfit was in place before throwing his t-shirt over his shoulder. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a bit weak in the knees after feeling rafe taste your skin. wrapping an arm around your waist, rafe whispered in your ear as he guided you two back inside.

“you wear those panties on purpose?” his breath was hot against your cheek, his arm pulling you close to his chest. “no.. my first option was to wear no panties at all.” rafe nodded, a dry laugh falling from his lips. “oh, that’s cute.” he knew you were serious too, and that’s what drove him crazy. before he could say anything else, you pulled away from him, losing yourself in the sea of people before he saw you making your way upstairs, your mini skirt shining underneath the neon lighting of your house. once your door clicked behind you, it wasn’t long before it busted open again.

all it took was rafe seeing your lacey pink thong to get you in the position you were in right now; getting fucked in a headlock while rafe grunted praises in your ear.

“wrapping around me so fuckin’ tight..”

“fuckkk, you’re taking me like the perfect little slut you are.”

“this is what you wanted right? ‘wanted this pretty pussy to get pounded in?”

all you could do was pathetically repeat his name, tears lining your eyes at just how good he felt. his bicep hugged your neck, your chin wobbling against the huge muscle as sounds of his skin meeting yours bounced off of the walls of your room. with his balls smacking against your clit, you nearly screamed when you felt the band in your stomach snap. “ray!” you gasped, your manicured nails digging into his flesh as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “oh, my god!” you were jelly at this point, your limbs feeling like dead weight as rafe made no effort to slow down.

overstimulated and mumbling nonsense, you shook and trembled underneath rafe as he filled you to the brim with his seed, the second greatest feeling ever. the first being whenever he was inside you. rafe’s head rested on your back, his fingers squeezing your hips so hard you were sure to see bruises in the morning. he was panting by the time he finished, his cock still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm. collapsing down next to you, rafe gave you a lazy smile, both of you looking equally fucked-out.

“we should probably shut this down soon, it sounds like it’s getting pretty rowdy out there.” you sighed, snuggling into rafe’s side. “i just want to stay like this.” wrapping his arms around you, rafe inhaled the scent of your perfume. “how have you not gotten a citation yet? the cops have been out here at least six times already.” you groaned, feeling sleep pull at your eyelids. “please don’t jinx it.” as if on cue, there was a flash of red and blue lights, a siren sounding from outside. you and rafe froze. “what did i just say?!” you huffed, already dreading having to get dressed and talking to the police.

[littlemissshoei]

HOMICIPHER || MR CRAWLING HCS.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ — content: headcanons, mentions of game typical topics, blood, game spoilers, mr crawling's endings spoilers, established relationship, mr crawling being the greenest flag ever.

★◞ — If there is something Mr Crawling loves more than you, it has to be seeing you smile. Just like did back then with the ears he found, hoping to catch even the faintest glimpse of your beautiful smile, he has made it his life goal to keep you happy. He often studies your behaviour, learning what makes you laugh and crack and smile to make sure he can recreate it.

★◞ — It's not a surprise he loves his hair, and he gets excited whenever you tend it. He enjoys feelings your fingers brush through it, washing it, taking care of it and even braiding it.

★◞ — While waiting for you, Mr Crawling likes cuddling up in your bed, surrounded by your smell. He likes to pretend it's you he's cuddled up against, waiting impatiently for your return.

★◞ — he is definitely the jealous type. He gets all sad whenever your attention isn't on him, desperately trying to find ways to get it back. He's like a sulking, small puppy, and you cannot help but find it endearing. He depends on words of affirmation, needing to hear you say he's all that you need.

★◞ — Very clingy. Will cling to you at any chance given. Enjoys physical touch as much as words of affirmation. He loves giving you headpats just as much as he loves receiving them.

★◞ — If you were to cook him the nastiest thing on earth, he would still eat it and smile afterwards, letting you know he liked it. As long as you cooked it, no bad taste can ruin the otherwise deadly meal.

★◞ — When the two of you arrived in front of the elevator, Mr Crawling couldn't help but feel somewhat nervous. When you asked him to take it with you, he experienced a sense of happiness he had never felt before, following right after you.

★◞ — He really appreciates the fact you try your best to learn his language as a way to communicate, so in exchange for that he pays attention to you, trying (and usually miserably failing) to learn human language. The one sentence he did manage to learn was „I love you“ which makes you tear up every time you hear it (whenever you get back home after a long day of work)

[creamflix]

I LOVE BAD BITCHES THAT’S MY FUCKIN’ PROBLEM! ၄၃ satosugu x female reader

18+ content, minors or blank blogs don't interact. unestablished relationship, roommate arrangement. bisexual! satosugu, top! suguru + switch! satoru. threesome. humiliation, degradation, dirty talk. m. masturbation. exhibitionism, slight voyeurism. fingering. orgasm control + denial. finger sucking. sloppy makeouts + three at once. oral (f. recieving) + squirting, clit/pussy slapping. riding. double penetration. face sitting. overstimulation. prostate stimulation. accidental love confession during the heat of it all. weirdly happy ending? - rl's established

thank you so much for 1OOO followers you lil freaks divas. this took so much time to write lol, i hope you all see the vision. this work was inspired by this smut audio by augustinthewinter. the link takes you to a re-upload on spotify [for easier listening], and sadly not the audio posted by the original creator. do your part and please support him and his work here <3 

— masterlist here ☆

you’re pretty sure you’ll be fine if you just ignore the tension radiating from your bed behind you.

you’re adjusting your eyeliner in the mirror, a faint smile on your lips, trying to focus on the excitement of the night ahead.

still, the weight of suguru’s silent gaze feels like a steel rod pressing against your back.

every now and then, you catch his reflection in the mirror, arms folded, brow furrowed slightly, watching your every move without saying a word.

and then, of course, satoru comes crashing in, slinging the door open like he owns the place. he practically throws himself onto the bed next to suguru, his excitement bursting out like it usually does.

“hey, hey, what if the three of us got wasted and binged some trashy netflix show? i’m thinking love is blind — oh, wait, you’re —” he blinks, taking in your outfit.

his voice trails off, and his expression turns from bright to bewildered as he glances from you to suguru, then back again.

“wait, where are you going dressed like that?”

you sigh, knowing there’s no way you’re escaping this.

“i… have a date,” you admit, smoothing out the fabric of your outfit. you catch suguru’s eyes in the mirror, and he raises an eyebrow, his arms still crossed, jaw set tight.

“oh?” suguru’s voice is cool, almost too calm, but there’s an edge underneath that doesn’t escape you.

“does he know you live with two men?”

you swallow, fiddling with your hair as you avoid his eyes. “well… no, i mean, it just never came up.”

satoru lets out a low whistle, leaning back on his hands, giving you a once-over that’s half-impressed, half-amused.

“so you’re planning to let him find out on his own when he walks in here and sees us? that’s bold.”

you roll your eyes, though you feel your cheeks heat up under their combined scrutiny. “it’s not like that! it’s just… i don’t know. i didn’t think it mattered.”

“doesn’t matter, huh?” suguru’s voice is low, almost a growl, and he stands up, slowly, crossing the room until he’s standing just behind you. he’s close enough that you can feel his breath on the back of your neck, his reflection towering over you in the mirror.

“so, what’s he like?” he asks, voice dripping with an intensity that makes your heart race a little faster.

you open your mouth to respond, but satoru’s laugh cuts you off. “yeah, yeah, tell us! tall, dark, and handsome, or short, plain, and boring?”

you bite back a grin, feeling the tension lighten just slightly with satoru’s teasing. “he’s nice. a gentleman, really. you’d probably like him,” you say, attempting a casual tone, though you can feel suguru’s stare growing sharper.

“a gentleman?” suguru scoffs, his lips curling into a smirk. “think he’d still be one if he knew you had two roommates watching out for you?”

“maybe he’d be intimidated,” satoru chimes in, grinning. he gets up from the bed, crossing the room to stand by suguru. “i mean, c’mon. anyone would feel the pressure, having to impress not just their date but her two very intimidating roommates.”

“intimidating?” you laugh, glancing between them. “i doubt anyone would find either of you intimidating.”

“oh, so that’s how it is,” suguru murmurs, stepping even closer, his voice a low rumble against your ear.

“you think we’re harmless?”

your heart thuds, pulse quickening as he leans in. “you know i didn’t say that,” you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

suguru’s close enough now that you can feel the heat of his body against yours, and there’s an undeniable thrill that makes your head spin just a bit.

“do you really think he can keep up with you?” he murmurs, his eyes scanning your face in the mirror. “think he’s enough?”

you don’t answer, mostly because you’re not sure how to.

suguru’s words linger in your mind, twisting in ways that make you hesitate, and you feel satoru’s gaze on you too, a spark of something mischievous and knowing in his expression.

“you know, it wouldn’t kill you to let us meet him,” satoru suggests, his voice a lazy drawl that only adds to the heat building in the room. “just to make sure he’s, y'know, worth your time.”

you bite your lip, glancing between the two of them in the mirror, feeling the weight of both their gazes, the way their words seem to dig deeper than they should.

“why do i feel like the two of you would scare him off?”

“maybe because we would,” suguru murmurs, his voice like a dark promise. “if he’s not up to standard.”

satoru grins, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“or maybe we just want to keep you to ourselves.”

your heart skips a beat, and you’re sure your face must be burning.

“you two are unbelievable,” you manage, trying to laugh it off, though the sound comes out more breathless than you’d like.

you feel your stomach drop the second you realize satoru's got your phone. he'd snatched it up casually, thumb already working its way across the screen, entering your password like he's done it a million times. he lets out a strangled sort of noise as he stares down at the screen, his wide blue eyes taking in whatever he's found with an expression of pure shock.

"uh, what exactly have you been watching here?" satoru barely suppresses a snicker as he holds up the phone for suguru to see.

"‘getting used by my two roommates 'til i can’t walk?’ really?" he reads the title, drawing out every word in that slow, teasing tone he loves to use. "didn’t know you were into…this."

suguru’s dark eyes flash as he looks from the screen to you. he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature mix of irritation and amusement. "that's why you’ve been ignoring us, huh? too busy fantasizing to even tell us you had a date tonight?”

“it’s not —" you start, but suguru's hand is already at your waist, pulling you into his lap, effortlessly pinning you against him. your back’s pressed against his chest, and he’s got you facing the mirror, the smirk in his eyes only growing sharper as he settles you firmly on top of him.

“stay still," suguru murmurs, his voice a low hum, sending a shiver up your spine. "i wanna see you finish your makeup. maybe you’ll explain what’s going on here while you do."

satoru, still grinning, swipes further through your history, leaning closer with a loud, exaggerated gasp. "ohoho, what’s this? ‘my roommates won’t let me leave until i’ve begged them’? suguru, she’s got a whole list of ‘em!”

“tell me, sweetheart,” suguru’s voice drips with mock sweetness, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “are you disappointed it’s only a video?”

you try to fight the blush threatening to paint your cheeks, attempting to focus on your eyeliner, but his hand at your hip keeps your body flush against him, heat radiating off him in waves. “you know i didn’t… it’s just a video, okay?”

“just a video, huh?” suguru’s thumb strokes your waist, and you catch his intense gaze in the mirror, dark and heavy-lidded, roaming over every flustered inch of your face. “don’t act so innocent.”

satoru snickers, flipping through more tabs on your phone. “so, when were you planning on telling this poor date of yours that you’ve got two guys in the apartment with you? two very protective guys, at that?”

“satoru —”

“nah, ’s cute.” satoru gives a little shrug, glancing at suguru with a grin. “she thinks she can just go on some little date and come home without us findin' out what she's been doin'.”

suguru’s grip tightens, forcing you to keep your gaze fixed in the mirror as he presses his lips close to your ear, voice low and dangerously smooth. “you like being watched that badly, huh? well, i’ll make sure you don’t even get a chance to squirm.”

you’re struggling to focus, trying to keep your hand steady as you bring the eyeliner back to your lash line, but it’s almost impossible with suguru’s iron grip keeping you firmly on his lap, his arms wrapped around you like you might escape at any second. his breath skims against the back of your neck, and he chuckles softly each time your hand trembles, knowing full well what he's doing to you.

meanwhile, satoru’s barely holding it together on the edge of the bed, and he’s not even trying to hide it. he’s got one hand slowly working his dick over his pants, the other still gripping your phone as he reads off your search history, letting out a low, exaggerated groan between words.

“let’s see… ‘getting absolutely used by my two roommates’…” satoru moans out the title, every word slipping from his lips laced with a mix of teasing and raw need.

his eyes flicker over to you, heavy-lidded, a wicked smirk creeping onto his face. “y'know, you could’ve just asked, sweetheart.”

you shift in suguru's lap instinctively, your body craving some kind of friction, some release for the ache pooling between your legs. but his hold only tightens, hands splaying over your thighs to keep you completely still.

“what do you think you’re doing?” suguru’s voice is low, dangerous, his gaze dark as he watches you through the mirror. “i told you to keep still. or do you need a reminder of who’s in control here?”

the demand in his tone leaves no room for defiance, but your pulse quickens, the heat radiating from his chest pressing into your back as he keeps you locked against him. you bite down on your lip, doing everything you can to keep yourself composed, but your voice comes out in a breathy whisper. "s-suguru… please, i just —"

“‘please,’ huh? sounds like you’re already begging,” he murmurs, lips grazing the curve of your neck, sending a jolt of anticipation straight to your cunt. his fingers trail lightly over your hips, teasing, but keeping you pinned firmly in place.

“but begging isn’t going to get you what you want tonight.”

satoru lets out a soft laugh, the sound melting into a quiet groan as he slips his hand into his pants, finally giving himself the relief he’s been aching for. “oh, don’t worry, i think she’s getting everything she wanted, alright,” he says between breaths, his eyes flickering between you and suguru with that playful glint that drives you wild.

he jerks himself slowly, deliberately, his breath catching as he reads off another title from your history, voice turning breathy as his hand works himself harder.

“this one’s good… ‘roommate makes me sit still while i drip for him.’ god, you’ve got a real filthy mind, don’t cha?”

your cheeks burn as you try to keep your gaze fixed on your reflection, hands shaking as you lift the mascara wand, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. but your efforts are futile, every word they throw at you stoking the heat building in your cunt, making it harder and harder to focus.

“don’t worry, sweetheart,” suguru’s voice is a rough whisper, his lips curling into a smirk as he catches your gaze in the mirror. “we’re just giving you what you’ve been craving all along.”

satoru’s moans fill the room, breath hitching each time his hand slides down his dick, the rhythm picking up as his eyes darken with lust. he’s not even hiding his arousal anymore, not holding back, his gaze burning as he watches the two of you in the mirror.

“c’mon, 'guru, stop teasin' her. hike up that damn dress, let’s see what she’s hiding under there.”

suguru’s eyes meet yours in the mirror, the glint in them both dangerous and amused. he moves slowly, his hands sliding down to the hem of your dress, lifting it inch by inch, fingers brushing over your thighs, making your skin tingle as he exposes more of you. he lets out a quiet hum of approval as he tugs your dress up to your waist, leaving you sitting there, fully exposed, save for the thin fabric of your panties.

“these are cute,” suguru murmurs, voice low and teasing as he hooks a finger into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with agonizing slowness, letting them fall to the floor. he lets his hand trail back up, grazing the inside of your thigh, making you tremble with anticipation. “don’t even think about moving, sweetheart. if you mess up your makeup, ’m stopping.”

you swallow hard, nodding, feeling your pulse throb as his fingers dip lower, brushing against your already-sensitive clit. the touch is feather-light, almost too soft, and it leaves you aching for more.

satoru groans from the bed, his hand moving faster as he watches you, his reflection in the mirror every bit as unrestrained as his tone. “that’s it, sugu'. make her beg. let her feel what she’s been fantasizing about this whole time.”

you force yourself to focus on your blush, lifting the brush to your cheeks, trying to keep your hand steady even as suguru’s fingers start moving in slow, deliberate circles against your clit. the pleasure sparks through you, making it nearly impossible to concentrate, and you can feel your cheeks burning, your breathing quickening with every movement of his hand.

“s-sugu… please… don’t stop,” you manage, voice barely more than a whisper, laced with desperation as you fight to keep your grip on the brush. “please… i’ll do anything.”

he chuckles, low and taunting, leaning closer to your ear, his fingers pressing down just a little harder. “then keep your hands steady, doll. if you want me to keep goin', you better not mess this up.”

but it’s useless; between suguru’s teasing touch and satoru’s moans filling the room, your hands are already trembling, and the brush slips, leaving a streak of blush too high on your cheek, too heavy, ruining the carefully crafted look you’d been working on.

suguru notices instantly, his eyes narrowing, a mocking smirk on his lips as he catches your mistake in the mirror.

“well, look at that. can’t even follow simple instructions, can you?” he tsks, pulling his fingers away, leaving you aching, desperate, empty.

“n-no, sugu, please —” you stammer, voice raw with need, looking at him through the mirror, eyes pleading. “please, i’ll fix it, i swear. just don’t stop, please… i need it, i need you —”

satoru laughs, still stroking himself, his voice thick with pleasure as he watches you beg. “she’s real desperate for it, 'ruru. look at her, practically falling apart from just a little teasing.”

suguru’s gaze is unyielding, his smirk growing as he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. “then maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep still,” he murmurs, his tone dripping with mock disappointment. "maybe i should let you sit here and watch instead. see what happens when you don’t listen.”

your heart pounds, every nerve in your body on fire, and you’re barely even thinking when you grab his wrist, pulling his hand back to where you need him most.

“please, suguru,” you beg, voice thick with desperation. “i’ll do anything… i’ll fix it, just… please touch me. don’t leave me like this.”

satoru’s groans are growing louder, filling the room with the heat of his breathy, drawn-out moans as he watches the scene unfolding in the mirror.

“yeah, sugu',” he mutters, hand working faster over his dick, his eyes trained on your reflection. “spread those pretty folds f'me. lemme see her fall apart.”

without a moment’s hesitation, suguru’s fingers grip your thighs, spreading your legs wider, baring you completely in front of the mirror, his hand moving down to part your slick folds with calculated ease. you gasp, your cheeks burning as you take in the sight — your own reflection, flushed and needy, legs open, your slick glistening in the low light. suguru’s eyes flick to the mirror, catching your gaze, smirking as he takes in the mess you’re making on his lap.

“look at that,” suguru murmurs, voice low and edged with satisfaction. his fingers slip between your folds, gathering the wetness that’s been dripping down onto him, his smirk only deepening as he holds his slick-coated fingers up in the mirror, showing you just how worked up you are. “you’re soaking me, sweetheart. did you really expect me to stay calm with you squirming like this?”

“s-sugu…” you whimper, feeling yourself clench as his fingers dance between your folds, teasing but not quite giving you what you’re aching for. every brush of his skin against yours sends another wave of heat through you, and your head falls back against his shoulder, lips parted in silent desperation.

“such a messy girl,” he continues, pressing a single finger into you, slow and deliberate, making you feel every inch as he slides in. “this what you wanted? to end up spread open, on display for us?”

you can barely form words, your mind hazy with need, hips instinctively rolling against his hand despite his warning to stay still. “yes… yes, please…”

satoru’s moans grow louder as he watches you, the slick sound of his hand stroking himself filling the room. “fuck, look at her, suguru,” he pants, voice thick with arousal. “all pretty 'n desperate, just like she’s been dreaming about.” his eyes fall shut, his hand moving faster as he chases his high, the sight of you enough to send him over the edge. his hips jerk forward as he cums, his body trembling, a low, satisfied groan escaping his lips as he rides out his release.

suguru only smirks, his gaze never leaving your reflection, watching your every reaction with a dark, predatory satisfaction. “see that?” he murmurs, his fingers moving in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, just enough to keep you on edge but not enough to let you cum.

“even satoru couldn’t keep himself together, and here you are, makin' a mess all over my lap.” he chuckles, a teasing glint in his eyes. “tell me, sweetheart, did you really think i wouldn’t get turned on by seeing you like this? so desperate, so needy?”

“i… i didn’t think…” you stammer, the words catching in your throat as his finger curls inside you, hitting that spot that has you seeing stars.

“didn’t think?” suguru’s voice is a low, dangerous hum, his other hand slipping up to wrap lightly around your throat, holding you firmly in place. “then maybe you should’ve thought a little harder.”

satoru practically stumbles forward, his legs still shaky, breath coming in quick, uneven gasps as he moves closer. he’s got that pleading look in his eyes, the one that’s rare, the one that only comes out when he’s truly desperate. resting his head against suguru’s shoulder, he lets out a soft, shuddering breath, voice low and needy as he murmurs, “suguru… let me taste her. please.”

suguru’s lips curl into a smirk, clearly reveling in the control he holds over both of you. he doesn’t respond right away, just looks at you through the mirror, dark eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and something far more possessive.

“hear that, sweetheart?” he murmurs, dipping his fingers back between your folds, swirling them slowly, thoroughly, gathering every bit of slick as he teases you with languid strokes. “even satoru can’t resist you.”

you gasp, body shivering as his fingers press against you, teasing the sensitive spot that has you arching in his lap, barely able to keep your head straight. suguru’s hand is relentless, moving with a torturous slowness that leaves you aching, dripping, clinging to the last bit of control you have left.

then, with deliberate care, suguru pulls his fingers back, coated in your slick, and holds them up in front of satoru’s lips, his gaze hard and commanding. “go on, then. taste her.”

satoru’s eyes darken with unrestrained hunger as he stares at suguru’s fingers, coated with the evidence of your arousal. without hesitation, he parts his lips, leaning in to take suguru’s fingers into his mouth, eyes fluttering closed as he sucks gently, his tongue swirling around suguru’s fingers, tasting you fully. he moans, soft and low, savoring the taste, his body shuddering as he licks every trace of slick from suguru’s skin, desperate, greedy.

“fuck, she tastes so good,” he murmurs, voice thick, almost reverent, as he licks his lips, leaning in closer to you, his gaze heated. “didn’t know you could be this sweet.”

suguru chuckles softly, watching satoru with a mixture of satisfaction and amusement, his fingers finding their way back between your folds, slipping in with ease, now even more eager to tease you, to push you right to the edge and keep you there.

“well, you heard him, sweetheart. seems like we’re both a little addicted to you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety taunt, his breath hot against your ear. “you’d better get used to this — having both of us right where you want us. or, should i say, right where we want you?”

you’re lost in the haze of it all, every shred of control slipping as you feel yourself practically begging, voice breaking with need. “please, sugu… 'toru… i need… just, please, do something — anything,” you gasp, head tilting back, completely vulnerable under their gaze. "can't take it anymore."

satoru’s hand slips around suguru’s shoulder, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to suguru’s neck, lips brushing against his skin as he murmurs, “c’mon, sugu, don’t be so mean to her.” he lets his teeth graze just slightly, a playful nip that’s more coaxing than demanding. “just look at her, desperate for us, dripping all over you. can’t you give her a little taste of what she’s been begging for?”

suguru’s gaze flickers between you and satoru, a dark smile on his lips, but you can see the way his resolve begins to soften under satoru’s coaxing. his grip loosens just enough, giving you a chance to scramble up, your legs feeling like jelly as he finally lets you go. he stands, smirking down at you with a hunger that makes you shiver, and gestures for you to sit back on satoru’s lap.

the vanity chair feels cold beneath you, but the warmth of satoru’s chest pressed against your back is intoxicating, his hands coming down to rest on your thighs, spreading them apart. he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “thaaat’s it, baby, open up for sugu. let him see how pretty you are.”

you whimper as you feel suguru’s fingers trailing up your inner thigh, eyes locked on cunt as he kneels down between your legs, his gaze dark and unyielding, filled with that same possessive hunger you’ve come to crave. his hands settle on your thighs, tugging you just a bit closer, his grip firm as he lowers his head, placing a kiss right against your aching, dripping pussy.

satoru’s grip tightens on your thighs, keeping them spread, his lips brushing against your ear. “look at you, such a messy lil' thing. bet you never thought we’d be the ones to make you this needy, hm?” his voice is a low murmur, taunting yet sweet, driving you to the edge with every word. “just let suguru take care of you… let him taste allll that sweetness you’ve been saving just for us.”

“oh god… please,” you breathe, voice breaking as suguru’s tongue flicks against your perky clit, sending a jolt of pure pleasure through you. he works with a deliberate intensity, his mouth moving in slow, tantalizing circles, teasing you, pushing you higher and higher, until you can barely think, every nerve alight with sensation.

“thaaaat’s right, just like that,” satoru murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs even tighter, keeping you spread wide open as he watches suguru devour you. “such a pretty lil' thing, all laid out for us… makin' a mess just for him.” his hand moves up, sliding around to your chest, fingers grazing over your nipples as he leans in close, lips brushing against your neck. “think you can take more? think you can handle everything we want to do to you?”

suguru’s mouth moves with more intensity now, his tongue pressing harder, faster, flicking over your clit in a way that has you seeing stars. his fingers slip inside you, curling just right, hitting that spongey spot that has you arching back against satoru, your voice breaking into a desperate, breathless moan.

“you’re so close, aren’t you?” satoru coos, his tone almost mocking, a playful edge to it as he watches your every reaction in the mirror. “look at you, falling apart so easily. gonna make such a pretty mess, aren’t cha?”

suguru’s fingers pump into you, his tongue swirling, flicking, his movements pushing you to that razor’s edge. his grip on your thighs tightens as he feels you tremble, his own hunger growing as he devours you with an almost feral intensity. "come on," he growls against you, his voice low, sending vibrations through you. "cum for us, show us how much you need it."

and that’s all it takes — his fingers curling inside you, his mouth pressing down, sending you spiraling over the edge as you cry out, back arching, body quivering as your orgasm crashes over you. you feel yourself let go, shuddering in their hold, leaving you breathless, a mess on satoru’s lap as suguru keeps working you through it, lapping up every bit of your sweet cum, refusing to let you come down easily.

“there you go,” satoru murmurs, voice laced with satisfaction as he keeps you spread wide, watching you come undone, helpless and completely at their mercy. “such a good girl… makin' a mess for us like that.”

suguru pulls back slowly, a smug grin plastered on his face, his lips and chin glistening with your cum. he chuckles lowly, eyes glinting with satisfaction as he wipes a bit off his face with the back of his hand, though not nearly enough to hide what he’s done to you.

“look at that,” he taunts, giving you a mockingly impressed look. “made ya squirt allll over my face. you just couldn’t help yourself, could you? such a messy little thing…” he trails off, licking his lips as if savoring every last taste.

you feel heat rush to your face, a needy whimper slipping from your lips as you squirm in satoru’s lap. “don’t… don’t say it like that,” you mumble, your voice trembling, though there’s no denying how much his words affect you. you can’t hide how badly you’re still aching, the intense wave of arousal making you want more, despite the fact that you just came, and squirted, at that.

satoru’s hands roam along your thighs, holding you tight, his lips curved into a playful grin as he leans forward, his mouth hovering close to suguru’s. “she did a number on ya, huh?” he says, eyes gleaming with delight as he catches sight of the slick coating suguru’s chin.

without missing a beat, satoru closes the gap, his lips capturing suguru’s in a deep, messy kiss, tasting you on him, savoring it. he moans softly, the sound low and teasing, his tongue exploring with unrestrained enthusiasm as he presses closer.

the sight of them kissing, sharing your taste, is almost too much to bear. you can’t stop the whimper that escapes you, a sound so needy it leaves you breathless. “don’t leave me out,” you plead, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “please… i want…”

they both pull back, a wicked grin spreading across satoru’s face as he looks down at you, his thumb brushing your lip in a slow, taunting motion. “oh, sooo needy, aren’t cha?” he purrs, enjoying every bit of your desperation. “well, we can’t just ignore a request like that, can we, sugu?”

“not at all,” suguru murmurs, his voice low and filled with mischief as he moves closer, settling back down in front of you. he places his hands on your thighs, his fingers curling possessively as he draws nearer. “c'mon, sweetheart. let’s make it a little messier, just how like you like it.”

satoru’s hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you in as his lips brush against yours, just close enough to make your pulse race. suguru’s hand finds its way to your cheek, and in a moment, the three of you come together in a heated, breathless kiss. your lips meet satoru’s first, his mouth soft but demanding, as suguru’s lips slide over yours from the other side, his taste mingling with the lingering remnants of your own cum. it’s dizzying, overwhelming, the way they both claim you, tongues slipping against yours, tasting, exploring, hands holding you in place as if you might slip away.

“you taste so damn good,” suguru whispers against your lips between kisses, his voice hoarse, filled with a dark satisfaction. he pulls you back into another kiss, his tongue dancing with yours before satoru’s slips in, joining the two of you, the three of you completely lost in each other.

“bet you never thought ya’d end up like this, huh?” satoru teases, voice a breathy murmur as his lips trail down to your jaw, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that have you arching closer to him. “on my lap, our pretty little thing, squirmin' and desperate for both of us.”

suguru lets out a quiet sigh, and you can see the strain of impatience tightening his jaw as he kneels in front of you and satoru, his brow furrowed in something halfway between a pout and a scowl. he’s letting you and satoru indulge and draw things out, but his patience— impressive as it is — seems to be fraying at the edges.

“look at you two,” he murmurs, a dry chuckle slipping out. “have your fun, make your mess, and where does that leave me?” his gaze flickers between you and satoru, voice low and pointed. “just standing here, waiting, like a good little bystander?”

“oh, poor suguru,” satoru teases, his hand running soothingly down your back as he shifts you on his lap. “you’ve been so patient, haven’t you? just watching and… wanting?” satoru’s lips twitch in a smirk, his fingers curling against your hip as if making a show of it for suguru’s benefit.

suguru’s eyes narrow slightly, his usual calm slipping into something darker. “patience only goes so far, satoru,” he mutters, tone thick with frustration. “you two get to cum like a bunch of damn teenagers, but where does that leave me?”

you reach out, voice soft, feeling a pang of guilt. “suguru… don’t be mad.” you give him a small smile, tugging him closer. “we didn’t forget about you.”

satoru grins, pulling suguru even closer. “yeah, don’t worry, we’re all yours now. what do you want, hmm?” his voice drops, playful but inviting, his hand resting on suguru’s shoulder.

suguru’s hand reaches out to cup your chin, thumb tracing along your jaw as he finally, slowly, allows himself to smile. “maybe,” he says, voice soft but firm, “you both owe me a little something for waiting so long. i’ve put up with enough teasing.”

satoru chuckles, sharing a look with you before looking back at suguru. “oh, we can more than make it worth the wait, can’t we?”

suguru’s eyes glint with that familiar authority as he finally straightens up, standing up and crossing the room with calm, measured steps. his gaze flickers between you and satoru, a quiet command already forming in his dark, focused eyes. he looks pointedly at satoru, a hint of impatience underscoring his words.

“satoru,” he says, his voice low and firm, “take her to the bed. it’s about time you two put in some work.”

satoru’s eyes light up with a mischievous gleam, and he scoops you up, one arm slipping under your knees as he gently lifts you, carrying you to the bed without a second’s hesitation.

he sets you down on the bed, hands lingering on your waist as he leans in close, his gaze warm but teasing. suguru settles back in the chair by your vanity, crossing one leg over the other with a deliberate slowness as he watches, amusement flickering in his eyes. there’s a clear expectation in his expression, a silent reminder that he’s still in control here.

“don’t let me down now, satoru,” suguru says, his voice rich with authority, his gaze unwavering. “show me exactly how well you can follow instructions.”

suguru exhales sharply, eyes narrowing as he watches you and satoru with a simmering impatience. his jaw tightens as he pushes down his waistband in one swift motion, freeing himself with a low, restrained groan as his hand wraps around his dick, stroking slowly, his gaze heavy and fixed on the two of you.

“don’t just sit there,” he says, his tone edged with authority. “if you’re so set on putting on a show, then do it right. make it worth my while.”

satoru grins, a glint of challenge in his eyes as he glances at you, his fingers tracing down your arm before he pulls you close, his voice a low murmur against your ear.

“guess we’d better make him happy, hmm?” he teases, hands resting on your hips as he guides you down onto his dick, his touch both reassuring and charged with excitement. “don’t want to disappoint, do we?”

you feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but there’s a thrill in being watched, knowing suguru’s eyes are glued to every little move you make. your hands grip satoru’s shoulders, and he chuckles, encouraging you as you settle in him, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

“that’s it,” suguru murmurs, his tone dark with satisfaction. “show me how eager you are.”

you can feel satoru’s grip tighten, his breath hitching as you begin to move, finding a rhythm together. satoru’s hands roam along your waist, his voice filled with playful heat as he whispers, “keep going, just like that. let him see how good you are.”

suguru laughs, a low, mocking sound as he sits back, continuing to jerk himself off, his dark gaze fixed on you, unrelenting. “pathetic. you think you deserve to be taken out and treated sweetly?” he scoffs, eyes narrowing. “you’ve got two men right here who know exactly what you need, and you were gonna settle for some monkey? that’s adorable.”

the humiliation sinks in, burning hot under your skin as suguru’s words echo in your head. you try to keep your focus, to follow each command as satoru’s hands guide your movements, urging you to grind down on him, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers filthy encouragements that send shivers down your spine.

“come on pretty, don’t look at him, look at me,” satoru murmurs, fingers pressing into the tender flesh of your hips, directing you with a firm, possessive touch. “thaaat’s it. show him who you really belong to.”

your hands tremble as you cling to satoru’s shoulders, eyes flicking back and forth between him and suguru, who’s watching with that insatiable hunger in his eyes, his own hand moving lazily along his dick, strokes slow, deliberate, just enough to keep himself on the edge as he observes every humiliating, vulnerable moment between you and satoru.

“god, you look so pathetic right now,” suguru sneers, his voice thick with disdain, though his eyes glint with barely contained desire. “tears in your eyes, desperate to please us. tell me, was this what you were hoping for? were you just pretending to go on that date so we’d punish you? is that it?”

“n-no, i… i just thought…” the words choke in your throat as you feel satoru’s hand slide up to grip the back of your neck, his touch both comforting and possessive, holding you in place, forcing you to look into suguru’s intense gaze as he studies every quiver of your lips, every tear that spills over.

“don’t lie to us,” suguru snaps, and the sheer authority in his voice sends a thrill through you, leaving you helpless as you try to keep your rhythm on satoru’s lap, your body caught between the need to please them both and the overwhelming shame of being so exposed, so vulnerable under their scrutiny.

“you’re lucky ’m lettin' him touch you first,” suguru continues, voice low, his hand moving faster now, breaths coming in harsher pants as his own arousal intensifies. “lucky i’m not dragging you over here and showing you what real punishment feels like. maybe then you’d think twice about pulling a stunt like this again.”

“i… i’m sorry,” you whimper, the apology tumbling out without thought, the words desperate, choked as you try to meet suguru’s unyielding gaze, wanting so badly to appease him, to make up for even the idea of going anywhere without them. satoru’s grip tightens, his hands moving with a rougher urgency, guiding your hips faster, harder against him as he murmurs praises, teasing promises against your neck.

“yeah? you’re sorry, huh?” suguru taunts, leaning forward, his lips curling into a cruel smirk. “then prove it. show me how sorry you are by doing exactly what we tell you — no hesitation. make me believe you’d do anything to keep us happy.”

“y-yes, suguru…” you whisper, cheeks burning with shame as you follow satoru’s guidance, riding him just the way he wants, feeling every inch of him pressing into you, the tension building with each movement, each lewd sound that fills the room.

“good girl,” suguru breathes, eyes dark, satisfaction evident as he watches you, his strokes quickening, matching the pace of your desperate motions, his gaze unwavering, fixed on the sight of you breaking down, surrendering completely to their control. “maybe this will teach you who you really belong to.”

satoru’s grip on your waist tightens with each roll of your hips, his smirk stretching wider as he watches you struggle to keep pace, his cock stretching you until your thighs tremble. your own voice, hoarse and raw, betrays you with every sound that slips free, the room filled with your desperate, incoherent whimpers.

but it’s suguru who keeps that edge of humiliation sharp, his fingers finding every weak spot, every place that makes you melt and squirm as he's behind you.

“c’mmon, sweetheart,” suguru murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension as his fingers pinch and twist your sensitive nipples. the roughness makes you gasp, your body arching as you try to focus, but his low chuckle tells you he knows just how close to breaking you really are.

“thought you wanted to go out and be wined and dined, hm? but look at you,” he taunts, his words hitting deeper than any touch could. “acting like a little masochist, practically begging for more. ’m not even sure you remember who’s inside you right now, or are you just too dumb on ‘toru’s cock to care?”

“s-sugu… i–i can… i’m –” your words stumble, dissolve, lost in a gasp as his fingers come down with a sharp slap! against your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure that makes your whole body shiver. it’s overwhelming, cruel, but there’s no denying how much you crave it - the brutal control, the way they push you further, faster, until all you can do is hold on.

“oh, i think you like it, babe,” satoru teases, his tone dripping with that cocky assurance as he watches your dazed expression. “see, you’re taking everything we’re givin' you, even that little ache in your hips. you’re just gonna keep goin', aren’t cha?”

“y-yes… anything… i’ll… i can — i can take it,” you pant, voice catching as you meet suguru’s dark eyes, filled with that familiar, ruthless amusement. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his touch unyielding as he pinches your nipples again, harder this time, watching with satisfaction as your face contorts with a mix of pleasure and pain.

“yeah? then prove it,” suguru breathes, his voice low, daring, as his fingers slide back down to flick against your swollen clit with a relentless pace. “show me how much you can handle. if you’re gonna be ours, then you’d better keep up.”

it’s cruel, it’s overwhelming, but that edge of that masochistic thrill surges through you as you sink deeper, surrendering to every brutal, delicious touch, loving it more than you could ever admit.

satoru’s grip on you falters, barely able to register when suguru thrusts into you from behind, satoru's hands gripping your waist like a lifeline as he tries to steady both of you under the sudden, relentless rhythm. the shock jolts through your whole body, forcing a strangled moan from your lips as you’re practically bounced between them, your mind barely keeping up with the intensity. it’s messy, overwhelming, the slickness of your bodies pressed together, every nerve ending alight.

“you little slut,” suguru snarls, voice rough and dark, his grip bruising as he slams into you, barely giving you a moment to adjust. “thought you could keep me out of this? thought ‘toru could have you all to himself? what a selfish bastard,” he sneers, throwing a mocking glance at satoru, who’s panting beneath you, just as helpless as you, his own words failing him in the haze of pleasure.

satoru’s only response is a choked groan, his nails digging into your skin as he’s forced deeper inside you with every brutal thrust from suguru. “f-fuck… yeah… yeah, you’re right, sugu,” he manages to gasp out, voice strained. “should’ve… should’ve let you have her from the start, huh?”

his words are broken, barely coherent, but the way his hips buck up to meet you makes it clear just how much he’s losing himself in the feeling, in the sight of you completely overwhelmed between the two of them. his eyes lock onto yours, desperation painted across his face as he breathes, “who’s making you feel better, huh, baby? tell us… tell us who’s got you like this.”

the question leaves you reeling, mind scrambling to answer as every thrust sends sparks down your spine, your body caught in the unyielding rhythm of their touch, their words. the overwhelming intensity builds, cresting higher and higher until you can’t even find the words, can’t think of anything but the way they’re both consuming you whole.

and when suguru’s fingers snake down to rub at your clit with punishing pressure, it sends you spiraling over the edge, your vision going white as your whole body clenches, shuddering violently. your orgasm crashes over you, raw and uncontrollable, soaking both of them as you shake, lost in the haze of pleasure that drowns out everything else.

“oh, fuuuck, yeaah… that’s it,” suguru growls, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watches you cum, his thrusts not slowing, his hand digging into your hips with renewed force. “knew you’d come apart like this, just needed a little push. pathetic, aren’t you? look at you, makin' a mess all over us.”

satoru moans, his own hips thrusting up as he feels your cum coat his dick, his eyes half-lidded, dazed. but before you can even catch your breath, satoru’s hands are already pulling you down, his grip firm as he positions you above him, eyes gleaming with mischief and hunger.

“oh, you thought you were done, sweetheart?” he taunts, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “nah, you’re not getting off that easy.”

he drags you forward, forcing you to settle over his mouth as he takes a loonnng, deliberate lick, his tongue swirling over your already sensitive folds. a sharp, keening whine escapes your lips as the overstimulation makes your head spin, hands scrambling to grip the headboard as you try to find any bit of balance.

“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” satoru groans against you, the vibrations of his voice making you shudder. “can feel you shakin', baby. what’s wrong? thought you could handle us?”

“sato — please,” you gasp, the plea spilling from your lips as his mouth works you over, his tongue relentless, flicking and sucking until you’re trembling, barely able to hold yourself up.

“oh, you’re just greedy, aren’t cha?” suguru’s voice comes from behind, mocking yet laced with desire as he steps up, his hands pressing down on your back, pinning you against satoru’s mouth as he positions himself against your other roommate. “actin' like a needy little thing… and leaving me to finish off while you get all comfy on ‘toru’s face?”

satoru lets out a muffled moan, and you realize suguru’s not just watching — he’s lining himself up against satoru, pushing inside with a sharp thrust that makes satoru’s body jerk beneath you, his hands digging harder into your thighs as he’s sandwiched against you both.

“fuck, suguru,” satoru moans, his voice coming out muffled as he keeps his mouth firmly latched onto you, his grip tightening as his body shivers with every thrust suguru gives him.

“god, 'toru, you’re so desperate,” suguru sneers, picking up a ruthless pace, each thrust making satoru’s tongue press deeper against you, pushing you closer to another orgasm despite the aching overstimulation that has you seeing stars. “you’re always actin' like a greedy little perv… can’t even let me have her to myself without gettin' ya share, huh?”

satoru’s hands move to grab your waist, pulling you closer, nearly burying his face in your sloppy pussy as he lets out a choked, needy whine against you. “c-can’t help it… shit, ya feel so good,” he gasps, voice muffled and broken, his breath warm against your swollen folds as his tongue presses deeper, eager and desperate. “taste s'sweet, baby… can’t get enough.”

you’re practically sobbing by now, your hands gripping the headboard so tight your knuckles turn white as you rock against his face, feeling the pleasure climb with each swirl of his tongue, each brush of his lips. “i… i can’t… too much, satoru, please —”

“oh, you’re not going anywhere,” suguru growls, his hand coming up to push between your shoulder blades, forcing you to arch as he ruts into satoru, the sharp rhythm making you jolt with each movement. “you’re gonna stay right here and take it, just like the little slut you are, yeah? don’t pretend you don’t love it.”

satoru’s moans grow louder, more desperate, as he’s thrust into over and over, the pleasure and intensity breaking him down as his grip on you tightens, his mouth working you over with fervor, almost as if he’s trying to drown himself in you.

“who’s makin' ya feel good, huh?” suguru taunts, his voice dark and rough as he keeps up his pace, driving satoru’s face further against you with every thrust. “tell me who’s got you fallin' apart like this.”

“y-you both — oh god, both of you, please —” you stammer, your voice breaking as your thighs shake, every nerve alight, each stroke of satoru’s tongue pushing you closer until you’re lost, another orgasm overtaking you, spilling over like a flood that leaves you sobbing, spent, and completely theirs.

caught between suguru and satoru, the pleasure swells in waves, overtaking you so completely that words blur into desperate confessions, spilling out between gasps and shudders.

“l-love you… both of you, so much,” you babble, the sincerity threaded with breathless need, and it’s enough to push them over the edge.

satoru’s groans vibrate against you as he holds your hips, fighting to keep focus on your pleasure even as suguru’s relentless hand brings him to his own breaking point. he tries to keep his mouth steady, his tongue still teasing over you, but he’s undone, bucking helplessly, gasping, “shit… suguru, i —”

“you like this, don’t you?” suguru sneers, his voice thick with both pride and satisfaction as he thrusts into satoru. “can’t even take your eyes off her, even while i'm inside you,” he taunts, his words making even satoru flush. “look at you both, so desperate, so damn needy.”

satoru lets out a strangled moan, his body tensing as he comes, his release coating his own stomach as suguru’s hand jerks him through it. satoru’s head tilts back, eyes half-lidded with dazed pleasure, his breath coming in shallow gasps as he lets himself fall into the sensation, never breaking contact with you.

the combination of their sounds, suguru’s deep, satisfied groans as he spills into satoru, satoru’s quiet, shuddering gasps beneath you, and the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your own body, sends you tumbling into your third - or was it fourth? - climax. it’s dizzying, consuming, leaving you boneless, shaking, barely holding onto the headboard as the last tremors run through you.

satoru is quick to catch you, his strong arms guiding you down to rest, his mouth softening from its earlier intensity as he places gentle kisses against your thighs. “ya good, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his tone tender, grounding you with a warm smile as he brushes damp strands of hair from your face.

“yeah… just, totally spent,” you mumble, a laugh slipping out as you relax into his hold. suguru settles beside you, his hand stroking soothing circles on your back, his gaze softened from its earlier sharpness.

“good girl,” suguru praises, his voice quiet now, full of affection as he pulls a blanket over you. “took everything we gave you… we’re proud of you.” his lips brush your forehead, and for a moment, there’s only warmth, only the steady rise and fall of your breaths.

you snuggle between them, letting out a contented sigh. “oh, by the way, um…” you start, a sheepish pout forming, “there wasn’t actually a date tonight.”

there’s a beat of silence before satoru bursts into laughter, his hands coming up to cover his face as he leans back, groaning.

“are you serious?” he scoffs, shaking his head. ��we did all that because you made up some story?”

suguru smirks, though there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as he leans close, tugging you gently by the chin so you’re looking right at him. “you’re a cheeky little thing, aren’t you?” he murmurs, voice low with amusement. “but you’re ours now, so there’s no need to make up stories to get our attention.”

“unless…” satoru teases, his eyes glinting mischievously. “you just like getting us all riled up.” he taps your nose, chuckling as he pulls you back against him, letting you rest in his embrace.

you let out a soft giggle, feeling safe, cherished, utterly at ease. satoru's arm tightens around you, pulling you flush against him as his laughter bubbles up, muffled by your hair.

"oh, yeah," he snickers, his voice low and teasing, "guess we’re a trio now, huh? what, you didn’t think it’d get official after all that?”

suguru huffs a laugh, his hand resting comfortably on your hip as he leans in, eyes glinting with that familiar mix of amusement and mischief. “our little trio, huh?” he murmurs, his tone somehow both affectionate and playful. “and here i thought you’d keep us on our toes a little longer.”

you look up at them both, cheeks still warm, lips swollen from all the breathless kisses, and you can’t help the laugh that spills out of you. “so that’s it, huh? i’m stuck with you two now?”

“stuck?” satoru grins, his voice full of mock offense. “you better be thrilled to be our third, princess. you know how hard it was to keep this one” — he tilts his head at suguru, whose smirk only grows — "from swooping in first?”

suguru chuckles, rolling his eyes as he brushes a thumb along your cheek, his voice dipping. “oh, she was always going to be ours,” he murmurs, confident and possessive. “it was just a matter of when.”

“and where,” satoru quips, giving your hip a playful squeeze, making you squirm with a laugh. "and how often."

you press your hand to your forehead, sighing dramatically. “what did i get myself into?” you mock-groan, only to have both of them pull you close, laughter and warmth wrapping around you, sealing you into your newfound trio — exactly where you want to be.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡ mdni header by cafekitsune

[whatifitis]

♡ Cursing The Daylight - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando hates knowing you never sleep well so when he believes he's figured out why, he makes it his mission to save his sleepy girlfriend from sleep deprivation.

Author's note: A little blurb thing I wrote at 2 am. I tried my best 😭

WC: 1045

CW: Lando being a bit dumb and the sweetest person ever, fluff

You were currently cursing the daylight, watching as a blue bird flew past your window.

Fucker 

It was yet another sleepless night in your apartment. You continued to stare at your alarm clock, waiting for it to go off, a little reminder that if you were capable of sleeping properly, you’d still have 5 more minutes of sleep. 

For most of your life, especially in recent years, you’ve never been able to get a full night's rest. You’d always end up tossing and turning for hours, as well as waking up about 7 times a night. Every day you would feel irritated and restless due to your lack of sleep. 

However, whenever you slept over at your boyfriend's house, you always managed to get a good night's sleep. You and your boyfriend, Lando, have been together for about 5 months. The first night you two had spent together, was the first time you’d been able to sleep well. You woke up bright and early and you felt amazing, like nothing could stop you. 

Over the course of your relationship, Lando came to be aware of your inability to sleep well most nights. Whenever you would sleep in your own apartment, Lando would receive mass amounts of texts from you, all about how you slept terribly and that you either needed a nap or many coffees. 

Lando, being the ever so lovely person he is, picked up on something. The only times you would get a good night's sleep, waking up and not needing to complain about anything and everything, was when you slept at his place. 

The mattress! The boy thought, she sleeps better at mine cause my mattress is fucking mint. 

Upon realizing this, Lando goes and orders the same exact mattress he has, and has it sent to yours. He thought it’d be a nice surprise for you so that you can get a goodnight sleep every night. Another plus would be that you guys are coming up on your 6 month anniversary, this counts as a gift right?, thinks Lando. 

The day Lando gets an email stating that the mattress was out for delivery, he books it to your place, wanting to be there to see your reaction to his gift and so that he could help you bring it in and set it up. 

Lando arrives at your apartment, greeted by you with a massive smile and sparkling eyes. He wastes no time in pulling you to him by your hips and wrapping his arms around your torso. As you wrap your arms around his neck you say, “As much as I love seeing you, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet up later tonight for movie night.”

As Lando pulls away to look at you, the postman has just arrived. “That’s why.” he says, smiling cheekily and pointing to the truck behind him. 

The both of you watch as the postman begins to unload the mattress from the vehicle, before Lando jumps in and helps the man drag the mattress to the door of your apartment. 

Whilst Lando and the man bring the mattress into your apartment, you stand there dumbfounded. 

What the actual fuck is going on? The only thing I’ve ordered to my apartment is a new book and I don’t think the book is that big? Wait, did I order the right thing?!

As soon as the box is in your living area, you confront Lando, “Lan, my love, my gorgeous boy… what the fuck?” you ask, pointing at the big ass box in your living area. 

Your Lan stands there next to the box, all but swaying as he stands and gives you the biggest smile he could plaster on his face. 

The cheeky fuck. 

“It’s a mattress!” he says as he poses next to it, adding a pose for effect. 

“A mattress?” you ask.

“A mattress.” 

After a moment of silence, where you contemplated whether to strangle him or take his credit card away from him, you ask “Why?”

“Cause, you’re always tired and you never sleep well unless you’re at my place. So I figured out why! It’s because you find my mattress to feel so much better and comfier. I even ordered the same bed sheets I have, but I got yours in green since it’s your favorite color. They should be here tomorrow though so for tonight you can spend the night with me or we can use your old sheets.” he proposes, smiling so wide it makes your heart melt from the sweetness that you don’t deserve. 

He gets you the same mattress he has in his home, for your home. 

“I sleep better at yours because you’re there. Not because of the mattress, you muppet!” you exclaim. 

You watch as Lando’s face immediately drops, “what?” he asks. He’s truly been stunned with this information, “What’d you mean it’s not because of the mattress? You mean to tell me I haven’t helped solve your sleeping issues?! I thought I was smarter than all the doctors you’ve seen for this issue!”

You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's statement. 

“Gorgeous, you thought that of all the doctors I’ve seen… that none of them have thought that I was sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress?” 

Lando just stood there silent, blankly staring at a wall, likely contemplating all his life choices. 

“Fuck. So, do you not want the mattress? Seems like a hassle to return.” he states as he scratches the back of his neck, wondering how he’s going to return the heavy ass box. “Wait, you sleep better when you’re around me?” he looks at you, somewhat shocked. 

You walk up to him, taking his hands in yours and making him look you in the eyes, “Gorgeous, in the time we’ve been together, we’ve slept on couches and several different mattresses. And I always sleep well no matter where or what we are sleeping on. I sleep better because I’m with you, I feel safe with you.”

“Oh… oh!” he giggles a bit. Red starts to lightly color his face, he’s blushing, “That’s nice.”

You don’t think you’ve met anyone more awkward than this man, but you love him because of that, not in spite of it. 

[dreamsteddie]

There is an AITA out there that I can't find but it's been haunting me for weeks with visions of semi-angsty Steddie that I need to release onto the world. (If anyone happens to know what I'm talking about hit me up and I'll link it)

Edit: @jazzathebunny found the original AITA from Reddit linked Here for anyone who wants to read it. ------

Modern AU, Eddie and the guys are a moderately successful local band in the Chicago area playing gigs on the weekends and doing small tours whenever they all have the time. Gareth and Jeff are both in college while Eddie and Freak are both working part-time at a game store. Eddie managed to lock down that assistant manager position that lets him work 30 hours a week with weekends off for gigs. All in all, it's a pretty sweet deal and they can't complain.

Eddie had sworn off dating after a small handful of disastrous relationship attempts in their first year in the city. He dismisses any advances from people who attend their shows and tries not to think about how much he wants to make a genuine connection with someone and have something real. He's been burned one too many times to try and make something with someone he met in a bar or at work.

He knows the guys talk about it behind his back sometimes, he catches Jeff and Gareth fervently whispering to each other and stopping when they catch him entering the room one time too many to not suspect they're talking about him and he can't think of anything else going on in his life that they would feel the need to whisper about.

The fervent conversations take a slight uptick one day and about a week and a half after they do, Gareth hits him up and tells him he wants to set Eddie up with a guy from one of his classes. At first, Eddie is skeptical and cites all the reasons why he doesn't want to try with anyone right now but eventually, Jeff jumps in to plea the case and Freak jumps in on top of that and under the combined weight of his best friends he agrees to meet up with this Steve guy.

The guys set up the whole thing and before Eddie knows it it's Saturday night and he's wearing his best black jeans and a gray button-down, untucked, to go on an honest to God blind date like his life is some low-budget romcom.

Steve is not at all what Eddie thought he would be. Not the kind of guy he thought his friends would pick out for him given they know he usually goes for other alternatives like himself. Steve, who is shyly waving him over and getting out of his seat to great him, is the very epitome of prep. Well-fitted polo, light blue chinos, and what Eddie assumes this guy thinks are casual loafers. He's handsome to be sure, a 12/10 at least with perfect hair and defined biceps but Eddie is fairly sure he's being punked.

But, Eddie doesn't want to be rude so he goes to meet Steve at the table, confirming just in case that he's actually here to meet with a guy named Eddie. Steve gives him a bit of a confused look, saying that Gareth showed him a couple pictures of Eddie before he agreed to meet and figured he'd done the same for Eddie off Steve's Instagram. Gareth had, in fact, not done anything of the sort but they both dismiss it and get on with their date.

In all honesty, Eddie is expecting it to be a complete wash, but it turns out that even if Steve is not at all what Eddie would have previously said what his type, Steve is damn near perfect. He's funny, kind, a little bitchy, and even though he proves himself to be every bit the sports nerd he looks like he doesn't turn his nose up at Eddie's own much more classically nerdy interests. By the end of the date, Eddie has a new type and that type is Steve Harrington. He's quick to lock down a second date for the next weekend which Steve happily agrees to. They exchange numbers and Steve gives Eddie a chaste kiss on the cheek that has him floating all the way home.

Steve texted him that next morning letting him now he had a great time and is really looking forward to their next date and Eddie thinks this might be the start of something big for him. When he gets to practice he's clearly still floating on cloud nine and in his own little world designing their marriage invitations and matching tombstones so he doesn't notice the sly grins on his bandmates' faces.

"So...how'd it go last night? Everything you dreamed it would be?" Gareth asks, a strange glint in his eyes that Eddie doesn't clock.

Eddie goes on and on about how nice Steve was and how he might be The One, thanking Gareth profusely. Freak looks pleased for him, giving him a hard pat on the shoulder in congratulations but when Eddie finally tunes back into the real world he's greeted by Gareth's livid expression and Jeff's overly concerned one.

He asks the guys what the fuck is up and it turns out that Gareth and Jeff set this whole thing up as a prank of sorts. Eddie was never supposed to hit it off with Steve who Gareth selected specifically because he's a "totally brain-dead prep" and as far away as someone could get from Eddie's previous relationships. He was supposed to be someone Eddie could go on a date with and not form a connection with without getting completely burned at the end like all his previous relationships in the hopes of getting him out of his slump.

Jeff was in on it as well. He wanted to get Eddie back out there, so when Gareth presented the plan he sat in on a couple of Gareth's general credit business class sessions to help pick the guy out.

After Jeff and Gareth finish explaining he does a complete 180 and just...leaves. In any other situation, he would be raging and verbally tearing his friends a new asshole but instead, he completely disengages and walks out the garage door, ignoring his friends' shouts to come back.

He goes back home, socked and hurt and so very confused about how the hell he found himself in this position when his phone lights up.

New Message: Steve H.

Fuck.

-------

Part two coming soon??? Maybe???? We'll see.

[ghostofbriggiesmalls]

And to quell dissent, the post 9/11 media (i.e. movies and tv shows - think 24) facilitated this. This is undoubtedly due to influence by the Department of Defense - they pour MILLIONS into funding movies and TV shows every year and give access to military equipment, provide consulting, etc.

They wanted what they were doing to look unpalatable but necessary. And the reality is that MOST people, the military included, bought into that idea. Fuck, I would say even people who should know that shit doesn’t work who were doing the actual torturing probably deluded themselves into believing it does.

Study after study in the post 9/11 world, however, has shown that people will say whateverthefuck under duress just to make the torture stop. Does it make them confess? You’re goddamn right it does. They’ll confess to murdering that guy. And their mom. And to having faked the moon landing. And to having shot JFK. And to being secretly 3 raccoons in a trench coat. Whatever you want just to make it stop. And, for clarity, when people are being enhanced interrogated tortured, it’s not like the detainee is saying “ok, you waterboarded me enough so here’s the plan…” They’re being asked simple questions like, “were you at the meeting” or “do you know Steve” and are being tortured until the torturer gets the desired response. “No” and “I don’t know” aren’t the right answers and result in more torture. So you say “yes” to make it stop.

The FBI was the only US security agency to actually get relevant information from adversaries in the post 9/11 era because they’ve been running interrogations of people for fucking ever and they know how to do it. ACAB. They established a relationship, got the person talking, then got relevant info. ACAB. That’s a normal part of law enforcement. ACAB. Fuck the cops forever but at least they got that right. ACAB.

Interestingly, this is where the movie Zero Dark Thirty is kind of a wild case. When it came out if got MASSIVE blowback for its torture scenes. People were saying it was pro-torture because they show these scenes where a character is being tortured and he ends up giving up information. And the characters in the movie are like, “yeah this is unsavory, but look at how effective it is.”

But, and this is critical, the information they get is wrong and useless. It’s not until one of the characters takes the prisoner out of the cell, starts talking to him, feeds him, and basically treats him like a person, that they get actual useful information. Sure the characters who are ostensibly the protagonists are pro-torture, but the plot shows that it’s actually bullshit and they’re wrong.

All that to say, yeah, torture doesn’t work irl and pretending like it does in media is irresponsible and dangerous because it helps all of us pretend like it does and just keeps us doing more torture.

Things that work in fiction but not real life

torture getting reliable information out of people

knocking someone out to harmlessly incapacitate them for like an hour

jumping into water from staggering heights and surviving the fall completely intact

calling the police to deescalate a situation

rafting your way off a desert island

correctly profiling total strangers based on vibes

effectively operating every computer by typing and nothing else

ripping an IV out of your arm without consequences

heterosexual cowboy

[kuroosamuu]

megumi x reader | warnings: making out | wc: 687

—

you and megumi decided to keep your relationship a secret. for reasons quite obvious to the two of you, for the current predicament you find yourselves in being one of the main ones.

with the two to of you both being students at jujutsu high, you're with each other more often than not. because of this, you two try to keep your feelings for each other at a minimum and keep anything away to the nosy people around you who would love to tease you about your relationship.

and megumi feels strongly about preventing that from ever happening.

well, that didn't last that long.

It was currently 1am, everyone was sleeping, and you were on your way to megumi's room.

you two did this often, finding the only moment of privacy with one another being in the middle of the night, where no one could interrupt the time you spend together. this was your time to be able to talk to him freely, without worrying about someone else interrupting your conversation or saying something about you two being a bit too close.

so, when you arrive and softly knocked on the door, you felt the relief you always feel when he opens the door, and allow yourself to throw your arms around him.

"missed you."

"you saw me today."

you pull away, pouting at him, "you know what I mean."

"I know, missed you too," he leans down and gives you a quick peck, before you two make your way to his bed to cuddle.

a daily routine at this point.

you lay with your head on his chest, his arm secured around you as you two talk mindlessly about anything and everything.

you end up perching your chin on his chest to look up at him, and before you know it, you lips are on his.

It starts off slow, gentle even, like every other kiss you two share. soon, you place your palm on his chest for leverage as you lift yourself up more in order to deepen the kiss.

megumi sits up slightly, bringing his back to rest on the headboard behind him as your lips move in sync, slowly deepening with each kiss.

you allow your hand that was previously situated on his chest to wander up and over his shoulder, as he takes one hand and place it on your waist.

he brings his other hand to the other side of your waist and moves you to straddle his lap properly now.

the kiss deepens in his new position, allowing yourself to hook your arms around his neck, while his one hand stays on your waist, the other slowly moving up and down your back.

all that is consuming your mind and body is megumi and you don't think of anything else, mind completely taken over by the feeling of his lips against yours.

and he is in the exact same way, hence the reason neither of you heard the door to megumi's room creak open.

and you didn't stop until you hear the crash of something hitting the floor.

you gasp as you part from megumi, throwing yourself off of him as fast as humanly possible and creating as much distance between you two as you could on his small bed.

you turn to look at the source of the sound to see yuji standing at megumi's doorway, whatever in his hand now on the floor, along with his jaw wide open.

the awkward silence between you three lasts for what feels like forever, before megumi finally speaks up.

"don't you know how to knock? what are you doing here."

"I did knock! you didn't reply so I just let myself in..." yuji replies looking between you and megumi, "maybe I shouldn't have..."

"It's not what it looks like," you try to explain weakly.

"I'll just leave you two alone."

yuji runs out of the room, and you look at megumi, the two of you knowing you're going to hear an earful tomorrow from both nobara and gojo, who yuji is definitely telling right now.

so much for keeping your relationship a secret.

—

[lostfracturess]

LAST DECEMBER MORNING — SATORU GOJO

pairing — satoru gojo x sorcerer!reader

summary — on a frost-bitten december morning, you watch satoru gojo prepare for his fated battle with sukuna with infuriating calm, like he isn't planning to sacrifice himself for the greater good. you've spent years being his secret, clearing battlefields for him and stealing kisses between missions, but now you're faced with the most brutal truth. that sometimes the cruelest curse isn't the one that kills you — it's loving someone who belongs to the world before they belong to you.

word count — 5.4 k

warnings — heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood and violence, implied death, unhealthy relationship, sad ending

author's note — this has been rotting in my drafts since the final jjk chapter dropped, and i finally dragged it out into the light bc i'm procrastinating uni. fair warning, this is pure angst with zero comfort, just two people breaking each other's hearts because sometimes love isn't enough. anywayys, happy reading <3

masterlist

Winter had never felt so much like an ending.

You watched frost creep across the windows of your shared apartment, each crystalline pattern forming like cracks in glass, spreading slowly but inevitably.

Outside, the world lay hushed under winter's blanket, everything soft and serene. Birds traced lazy patterns against a sky so blue it hurt to look at, and fresh snow made everything clean and new.

It was the kind of morning that belonged in fairy tales, the kind poets write about when they want to capture peace in words. Strange, how you'd never imagined death would choose such a beautiful day.

You watched Satoru move through his routine, each gesture precise and unhurried. White hair caught the pale sunlight as he smoothed it back, his reflection in the mirror handsome as ever before he adjusted his clothes, and put on his blindfold.

You'd watched him prepare for countless missions before, but this felt different. This felt final.

The normality of it all was almost cruel — how he could stand there, getting ready like this was just another day, just another fight. Like the sun wasn't rising on what could be your last morning together.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily forward, each second falling like a stone into still water. Time felt strange, both rushing too fast and moving too slow. You wanted to grab the clock's hands, force them to stop, to give you just a few more moments in this morning that felt like borrowed time.

"You're staring," he said without turning around, a slight smile playing at his lips.

"Can you blame me?" You were curled up in the window seat, tea growing cold in your hands. "It's not every day your— whatever we are goes to fight the King of Curses."

He turned then, and even through the blindfold, you could feel the weight of his gaze. "Whatever we are?" There was amusement in his tone. "After all this time, you still don't know what we are?"

"Well, we're not exactly big on labels," you pointed out, trying to keep your voice light despite the heaviness in your chest. "Secret relationship and all that."

"Ah, but that's what makes it fun, isn't it?" He crossed the room to where you sat, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. "The sneaking around, the secret meetings—"

"Satoru." You caught his hand. "How are you so calm about this?"

He tilted his head, considering. "Would you prefer if I was panicking?"

"I'd prefer if you showed any emotion at all about the fact that you're about to fight Sukuna." You stood up, setting your tea aside. "You've been acting like this is just another day, just another fight, but it's not. You know it's not."

"I think I've shown plenty of emotion," he said, pulling you closer with a playful smile. "Just last night, if I recall—"

"Don't." You pressed a hand against his chest, keeping him at arm's length. "Don't deflect. Not today."

The smile faded from his face, replaced by something more serious. "What do you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me why you're so calm. I want you to tell me why you're not worried." Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on. "I want you to tell me why it feels like you're saying goodbye."

He was quiet for a long moment, his thumb tracing patterns on your wrist where he still held it. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "The world needs to move forward. It needs to find someone stronger."

"What are you talking about?" You pulled back slightly. "You're the strongest there is."

"Am I?" His smile was gentle, almost sad. "Or is that just what everyone needs to believe?"

"Satoru—"

"The world has relied on me for too long," he continued. "They've made me their symbol, their savior, their stupid hero. But what happens when I'm gone? Who protects them then?"

"You're not going anywhere," you said. "You're going to win. You always win."

He cupped your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. "Sometimes winning isn't about surviving. Sometimes it's about making sure what comes after is better than what came before."

"That's not funny."

"I'm not trying to be funny." He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm trying to tell you that whatever happens today, the world will keep turning. It will find new leaders, new protectors. Maybe even better ones."

"I don't want new protectors," you whispered. "I want you."

"Ah, but you've always had me," he said softly. "Ever since that first mission together, when you told me my head was too big to fit through doorways. Do you remember?"

You huffed. "You were showing off, making everything more complicated than it needed to be."

"I was trying to impress you."

"You're always trying to impress me."

"But it's working, right?"

You pressed closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent. "You know it is, you idiot."

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. For a moment, you both stood there in silence, listening to each other's heartbeats. The familiar rhythm brought back memories of how this all began, of the first time you'd been close enough to hear his heart race.

For loving Satoru Gojo had always been the most beautiful and dangerous thing in your world.

It started in blood, as most things in your world did. A mission gone wrong, cursed spirits thick in the air, the metallic taste of death sharp on your tongue. You’d seen him fight before—who hadn’t?

But that night was different. That night, you saw him bleed.

A special-grade curse caught you both off guard. One moment, he fought three curses at once like some untouchable god, and the next, he was crashing through three buildings, blood gushing from his mouth.

Something in your chest cracked at the sight — not from the impact of being thrown back yourself, but from seeing him, the strongest sorcerer alive, look so terrifyingly human.

You remembered how his blindfold had been torn, those devastating blue eyes meeting yours across the wreckage. Blood trickled down his chin, his usually perfect hair matted with debris, and yet he smiled. That damn smile that made your heart stutter even as cursed spirits attacked you from all sides.

“Trying to steal my spotlight?” he’d joked, wiping blood from his lips as he stood. “I’m the only one allowed to look cool here.”

You wanted to strangle him. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to scream at him for making jokes when he could have died. You did none of those things. Instead, you cleared the area, giving him the perfect opening he needed to obliterate the special grade.

Later, after the dust had settled and the reports had been filed, he cornered you in the darkened hallway of Jujutsu High.

“You’re angry,” he said, not a question but a statement.

“I’m not angry.” You were furious. “I’m just wondering how someone who’s supposed to be the strongest can be so fucking reckless.”

He stepped closer, backing you against the wall. “Worried about me?”

“You wish.” But your voice shook, betraying you. Because you had been worried. Terrified, actually. The image of him lying in that wreckage, blood staining his white hair red, had burned itself into your mind.

“Liar,” he whispered, and then his lips were on yours.

Everything they said about Satoru Gojo was true — he was overwhelming, all-consuming, impossible to resist. Kissing him felt like being struck by lightning, like being unmade and remade in the space between heartbeats. You broke apart, both breathing hard, and reality came crashing back.

“Fuck,” you summarized eloquently.

He laughed, the sound low and rich. “That could be arranged.”

“Satoru.” You pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heart race under your palm. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re you. Because I’m me. Because there are a thousand reasons why this is a terrible idea.”

“I’m only hearing excuses.” He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Not actual reasons.”

And that was how it started — with blood and curses and kisses in dark hallways. With terrible ideas that felt too good to resist.

Keeping it secret was both easier and harder than you expected. Easier because everyone already knew how Satoru was — flirtatious, tactile, always pushing boundaries. No one questioned when he draped himself over your desk during meetings or appeared uninvited in your office and stayed for hours.

Harder because every moment felt like a lie of omission. Harder because you had to watch him walk into danger again and again, had to maintain professional distance when all you wanted was to grab him and never let go.

You stole moments where you could find them. Quick kisses in empty classrooms, heated encounters between missions, quiet nights in your apartment when the world thought he was somewhere else entirely.

It ate at you sometimes. Not because you wanted to announce it to the world, but because each moment felt borrowed, stolen from a future you might never have.

Every time he left for a mission, every time he faced another curse, you wondered if this would be it. If this would be the time your last memory of him would be a secret smile across a meeting room, a cryptic message that no one else understood. But then he’d come back, always with that insufferable smile, usually with some ridiculous story about how amazing he’d been.

He’d find ways to touch you in public that looked casual — a hand at the small of your back during briefings, fingers brushing as he passed you documents, his body angled toward yours in crowded rooms like a sunflower seeking light.

And the worst part? The absolute worst part was how good he was at pretending. How easily he maintained his public persona — the untouchable, unbeatable Satoru Gojo, who flirted with everyone and meant it with no one.

Sometimes you’d catch him looking at you in meetings with the same expression he gave everyone else, and for a moment, you’d wonder if you’d imagined everything between you.

But then night would fall, and he’d show up at your door with takeout and that soft smile he saved just for you. He’d kiss you like he was trying to apologize for every moment he had to pretend you were nothing special, like he was trying to prove that this, the two of you, was the only real thing in his world.

You never talked about the future. How could you? In your line of work, tomorrow was never guaranteed. Each mission could be your last, each kiss could be your goodbye. The closest you ever came to acknowledging it was in the desperate way he’d hold you after a close call, in the way you’d trace his features in the dark like you were trying to memorize them by touch.

Some nights, when sleep eluded you both, he’d tell you about the weight of being the strongest, about the exhaustion of being everyone’s last hope.

He’d whisper his fears into your skin — not of death or defeat, but of failing those who believed in him. Those were the moments when the great Satoru Gojo disappeared, leaving just Satoru, just a man who carried the world on his shoulders and made it look easy.

You lived for those moments. The quiet ones, the real ones, the ones where he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive but just yours. Just as you were his.

You carved out your own little infinity in the spaces between battles and duties. A secret world where his laugh wasn’t for show, where your touch wasn’t professional, where you could just be the two of you without the weight of expectations and reputations.

But infinity, as it turned out, had limits. Even his.

Looking at him now, preparing to face Sukuna with that same causality he brought to everything, you wondered if this was how your story was always meant to end. If all those stolen moments were just preparing you for this — one last morning, one last smile, one last chance to pretend tomorrow might come.

The world needed someone stronger, he said. But you needed him. And maybe that was the cruelest curse of all — loving someone the world needed more than you did.

"Promise me something," you said then.

"Hmm?"

"Promise me you won't just give up. Promise me you'll fight to come back."

He pulled back slightly, reaching up to remove his blindfold. His striking blue eyes met yours, intense and clear.

"I promise," he said, "that everything I do today will be for a better tomorrow."

"That's not what I asked."

"It's the only promise I can make."

"Stop." Your voice turned sharp, anger finally breaking through. "Stop talking about tomorrow. Stop talking about the future and the next generation and whatever noble sacrifice you think you need to make. I don't care about any of that."

"Don't you?"

"No, I don't." You grabbed his jacket, fingers twisting in the fabric. "I don't care if the world needs someone stronger. I don't care if the next generation needs to step up. I care about you, you impossible man. I want you here, alive, with me. Is that so wrong? Am I not allowed to be selfish when it comes to you?"

"Huh." He caught your hands in his, but didn't pull them away from his jacket. "And here I thought you understood me better than anyone."

"Don't." You tried to pull away, but he held firm. "Don't you dare try to make this about understanding. I understand perfectly. But you're wrong. You don't have to do this."

His smile faltered slightly. "It's not that simple."

"It is that simple!" Your voice cracked. "You're choosing to make it complicated. You're choosing to walk away, to... to what? Make some grand statement about the future? Prove that the world can survive without the great Satoru Gojo?"

"Someone has to."

"But why does it have to be you?" The words burst out of you, raw and desperate. "Why do you have to be the one to show them? Why can't you just fight to win, to live, to come back to—" You cut yourself off, biting back the words that wanted to follow.

"To you?" he finished softly.

"Yes," you said, dropping your forehead against his chest. "To me. Call me selfish, call me short-sighted, I don't care. I want more mornings like this. More everything. More of you, being insufferably calm and making terrible jokes and acting like the world isn't ending when we both know it might be."

He was quiet for a moment, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your head. When he spoke, his voice was gentler than before.

"I can't promise to come back." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "But know this, every moment with you has been worth fighting for. Worth living for."

You pulled back enough to look at him, really look at him. "Then fight for more moments. Fight to make more memories. Fight to come back to me, not for some greater purpose or stupid sacrifice, but because you want to."

"And if I told you that wanting isn't enough?"

"Then I'd call you a liar." Your voice turned cold. "Because you're Satoru fucking Gojo. When has anything ever been impossible for you? When have you ever let anyone tell you what you can't do?"

​​"This is different—"

"How? How is this different? Because it's Sukuna? Because it's the fate of jujutsu society? Or because you've already decided how this story ends?"

His hands tightened on you, and for a moment, just a moment, you saw something flicker behind those blue eyes — doubt, fear, longing, you couldn't tell. But then it was gone, replaced by that same calm certainty that made you want to scream.

"Because I can't protect everyone—can't protect you if I allow myself to believe in a tomorrow," he whispered.

The gentleness in his voice, the soft way he delivered words meant to cut, made you want to tear the world apart. It was so perfectly Satoru — to break your heart like he was doing you a favor, to wound you with a tenderness that felt more cruel than any violence could be.

"I never asked you to protect me," you said finally. "I asked you to stay. There's a difference."

"Is there?" His hand came up to cup your face, shaking ever so slightly, betraying the calm he fought so hard to maintain. "Because every time I look at you, all I can think about is how many people would use you to get to me. How many would hurt you just to prove they could touch something I care about."

"So your solution is to what? Die nobly? Make sure there's nothing left for them to use against you?"

"My solution is to make sure the world doesn't need me anymore." His thumb brushed across your cheek, catching a tear you hadn't realized had fallen. "To make sure you don't need me anymore."

"That's not your choice to make. You don't get to decide what I need. You don't get to martyr yourself for some greater good and pretend it's for my protection."

"Then what would you have me do?" For the first time, there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "Ignore my responsibilities? Pretend I'm not who I am?"

"I would have you fight like you want to come back!" The words ripped from your throat. "Fight like there's someone waiting for you after. Fight like you love me as much as I love you!"

The confession rang out between you, and the moment it left your lips, you realized you'd never said it before. Through all the stolen moments, all the secret touches, all the nights you'd spent memorizing each other's bodies — you'd never actually spoken those words aloud.

You'd both danced around it, implied it in every action, every look, every unfinished sentence, but neither of you had ever dared to make it real with words.

Until now. Until you were angry enough, desperate enough, terrified enough to let it slip from your heart straight past your defenses.

"Love?" His voice was barely a whisper.

"Of course I love you, you idiot." Your voice equally quiet. "Why else would I be standing here, begging the strongest sorcerer alive to be selfish just once?”

He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, maybe a sob, his fingers tightening on you. "Don't," he whispered, and for the first time that morning, his voice was shaking. "Don't make this harder than it already is. Don't say things that make me want to—" He cut himself off, jaw clenching. "That make me want impossible things."

"Impossible? Since when does Satoru Gojo believe in impossible?"

"Since I realized loving you means putting you at risk." His thumb brushed your cheek, the gesture achingly gentle. "Since I understood that staying alive isn't the same as keeping you safe."

"I hate this." You shook your head. "I hate how calmly you can stand here and talk about sacrifice like it's inevitable. Like there's no other way."

"Would you prefer if I fell apart?" His smile turned sad. "If I raged and cried and promised things I might not be able to keep?"

"Yes," you admitted, your hands coming up to cover his where they still held your face. "Because at least then I'd know you want to stay as much as I want you to."

"Oh, my love." The endearment fell from his lips like a confession. "Wanting to stay has never been the question. The question is whether I can live with myself if I do."

"And what about whether I can live with myself if you don't?" Your voice broke. "What about whether I can forgive myself for not fighting harder to make you stay?"

"This isn't your fight."

"Like hell it isn't." You pulled back. "You think I spent months learning to clear battlefields just so you could take center stage? You think I perfected my technique to complement your infinity because I had nothing better to do?" You dug your nails into your palms, throat tight with fury. "I've been fighting alongside you since before you ever kissed me in that hallway. Before you ever decided I was worth protecting. Don't you dare tell me this isn't my fight when I've spent years making sure you had the space you needed to be great."

He was quiet for a long moment, studying you. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. "And that's exactly why I need to go. The world doesn't need more people making space for me. It needs people who'll fill that space themselves."

You recoiled like he'd slapped you, hurt burning in your chest. "Is that what you think I've been doing? Making myself smaller for you? Made space for you because I was afraid to reach higher?" You stepped closer, deadly calm now. "I made space for you because that's what you do when you love someone."

His lips twitched into a smile. "So you do understand me."

"Don't pretend those are the same thing."

He was quiet for a moment. Then, instead of answering, he pulled you into a kiss that tasted like goodbye. Like all the tomorrows you'd never have, all the moments you'd never share, all the promises neither of you could keep. You kissed him back with everything you had — all your fury and fear and love condensed into this one perfect, terrible moment.

His hands tangled in your hair like he was trying to memorize the feeling, yours gripping his jacket as if you could keep him here through sheer force of will. When you finally broke apart, hearts pounding, foreheads pressed together in the space between one heartbeat and the next.

"I'll hate you," you whispered against his lips. "If you don't come back, I'll hate you for the rest of my life."

He pulled back just enough to look at you, and for once, his smile held an edge of something raw, something that looked almost like pain. "No, you won't."

"I will." Your fingers tightened in his jacket. "I'll hate you for making me fall in love with someone who was always planning to leave. I'll hate you for every morning I wake up alone, for every mission briefing where someone else stands in your place, for every year I have to leave flowers on your grave."

"You'll move on. You'll find someone—"

"Fuck you," you cut him off, the words sharp enough to draw blood. "Don't you dare tell me how I'll feel. Don't you dare stand here and plan out my future without you in it."

"I'm just trying to—"

"To what? Prepare me? Make it easier? There's nothing easy about loving you, Satoru Gojo. There never has been. But I chose it anyway. Every day, knowing this moment would come."

"What do you want me to do? Do you want me to say goodbye? Make it messy and painful and real?"

"I want you to stop pretending this is just another mission and show me something that tells me this is killing you like it's killing me."

The silence stretched between you like a chasm. For just a moment, beneath his careful composure, you caught a glimpse of the man behind the name — vulnerable, conflicted, maybe even afraid. But he buried it quickly, like he buried everything that might make him waver from his chosen path.

You'd always known this about him, hadn't you? Known it from that first bloody mission, from every fight where he'd put himself between the world and destruction.

Satoru Gojo was a man built for sacrifice, shaped by duty and power into something that could never truly belong to just one person. You'd fallen in love with him anyway, foolishly hoping that maybe love could be enough to make him choose differently.

But watching him now, seeing the gentle finality in every movement, you understood with crushing clarity that this was always how it would end. No amount of pleading or anger or love could change what he'd already decided.

He'd made his choice long before this morning, probably before he'd ever kissed you in that darkened hallway.

"Keep the tea warm for me," he said finally, stepping back. The words were casual, almost playful — exactly the kind of thing he'd say on any other morning. But that's what made it cruel. Even now, he was trying to soften the blow, pretending this was just another goodbye, just another mission.

You didn't say anything as he walked to the door. Didn't wish him luck or tell him to be safe. The time for those platitudes had passed.

Instead, you watched him pause in the doorway, his hand resting on the frame. For a moment, you thought he might turn around, might drop the act and let you see something real. One last true moment before the end.

He didn't fully turn, but his voice carried back to you, soft and achingly sincere. "I love you. More than anything." A pause. "That's why I have to go."

The words hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You'd never expected them, had made peace with the silence between heartbeats where those words should have lived.

You'd imagined them differently, in all the quiet moments you'd shared — whispered against your skin in the dark, laughed into your mouth between kisses, murmured sleepily on lazy mornings. Not like this. Never like this.

How cruel, that he would finally say them now, when they felt more like a funeral rite than a confession. A parting gift from a man walking towards his own chosen end, making what should have been beautiful feel like another wound. The words you'd never dared hope for now hurt more than a lifetime of silence ever could.

Your throat burned with all the things you wanted to scream at him — about how love should mean staying, about how he was breaking your heart while trying to save it, about how dare he make those words sound like goodbye when they should have been a beginning.

"I hate you," you whispered.

He made a sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something more broken. "No, you don't." The certainty in his voice felt like another wound. "You love me. You said so yourself."

"I'll hate you." Your voice hardened with each word. "I'll hate you so much it'll make you wish you'd stayed."

His hand tightened on the doorframe, knuckles white with tension. For a heartbeat, you thought you'd finally cracked his composure. That he might turn around and choose you over duty, love over destiny.

He didn't.

The door closed behind him with a soft click that sounded like an ending.

"But I'll wait for you anyway," you whispered to the empty room, hating yourself for the truth in those words.

The truth was, you'd always known it would end like this, known that loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who belonged to the world before he belonged to you.

But you'd been naive enough to hope. Foolish enough to think that maybe, just maybe, love could be enough to make him choose differently. That your selfish desire to keep him alive and whole could outweigh his selfless need to reshape the world.

The morning light cut across the empty room, highlighting the space where he'd stood moments before, and you wondered about the cruelty of it all.

Was it wrong to want to keep him here? To ask the strongest sorcerer alive to choose personal happiness over humanity's future? How many would suffer because you'd asked him to be selfish just this once?

But then again, how many had already been saved by him? How many times had he bled and broken and pieced himself back together for a world that only saw him as a shield, never as a man? Didn't he deserve the chance to live for himself, just once?

If love died today, buried six feet under noble intentions and greater goods, then maybe hate was all you had left. And wasn't there something pure in that? In hating him with the same intensity you'd loved him? In letting that hate fill the spaces he left behind, burning away the softness until all that remained was sharp edges and bitter truths?

The world needed Satoru Gojo the symbol, the untouchable god of jujutsu. But you'd needed Satoru, just Satoru, the man who brought you tea exactly how you liked it and kissed you like you were his everything. The man who was walking away, leaving you with nothing but memories and the taste of hate on your tongue.

Was it selfish to think your love was worth more than the world's need? Was it cruel to measure the weight of one heart against humanity's future?

Love and duty were never meant to be weighed against each other like this, weren't meant to be choices that tore a person in two. And perhaps that was the real tragedy — not that he was walking away, but that you'd let yourself believe he wouldn't.

You'd known how this story would end from that very first kiss. Had tasted it in every goodbye before a mission, felt it every time you waited anxiously for his return, seen it lurking behind every smile that never quite reached his eyes.

Loving Satoru Gojo meant loving someone who was always meant to be sacrificed. You'd just been naive enough to think sacrifice could look different, that it didn't have to end with you here, choking on love turned to ash in your mouth.

Your fingers traced your lips where those three words still lingered like a curse. The tea was getting cold on the windowsill. You should pour it out, make a fresh cup. Should start preparing for a world where Satoru Gojo was just a memory, a legend, a story of sacrifice and strength. Should learn how to breathe around the thorns growing in your chest where love used to live.

Instead, you stayed frozen, caught in the space between what was and what could have been. Because maybe he was wrong. Maybe the world didn't need someone stronger. Maybe it just needed him to come back. You certainly did.

But it was too late for maybes now. He was already gone, walking toward a destiny he'd chosen long before he'd chosen you. And you were left here, caught between hating him for leaving and loving him for exactly who he was — a man who would always choose the greater good, even when it shattered both your hearts.

But perhaps the cruelest irony was that in trying to protect humanity, he'd forgotten he was human too. That in becoming everyone's shield, he'd forgotten shields could break. That hearts could break. That yours was breaking.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, indifferent to your pain, indifferent to the way your world had just walked out the door with a smile and a promise he might not be able to keep.

You'd wait anyway. Even knowing how the story was meant to end, you'd wait. Because that's what love was — not just the beautiful parts, but the ugly parts too. The waiting. The hoping. The hating.

The choosing to love someone even when they choose something else. Even when that love turns to poison in your veins.

Even when they choose the world over you.

The tea had long gone cold when you finally moved, muscles stiff from standing still for so long. You'd sworn you wouldn't watch. Had promised yourself you wouldn't be there to see him die for his greater tomorrow.

But your hands were already reaching for your jacket.

Because that was the thing about loving Satoru Gojo — even when it turned to hate, even when it felt like acid in your throat, you couldn't look away. You'd watch him fight Sukuna. Watch him smile that infuriating smile as he chose the world one last time.

After all, you'd already promised to hate him if he didn't come back.

The least you could do was be there to keep that promise.

author's note — thank you for reading this little piece of heartbreak. i was very unsure if it will ever see the light of day but i finished it now bc i was in the mood for pain. if you enjoyed, i would greatly appreciate a reblog or comment. hope your heart isn't too broken <3

ps: if you want to get notifications for future updates, you can join my taglist here!

tags — @fayuki @starmapz @saurondriell @starlightanyaaa @sxnkuna

@cocomanga @nanamis-baker @rosso-seta @shervinss @chiyokoemilia

@janbannan @bloopsstuff

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or copy my work.

[illiath-the-fae]

So... as a Psychologist, I'd like to weigh in on these...

"Love Languages".... hmm... yeah... I only ever hear this said in terms of pop psychology (which is like the difference between Astrology and Astronomy to me), so skipping. If you care about relationship advice, I recommend looking up work from The Gottman Institute, decades of research into relationships out of those people, and while the initially studies were focused on male-female married couples, more modern works from them have been more generalized. They provide "free" information about their research on their website and other places.

MBTI... ah yes... the "four letter words" of things... amusing, but otherwise pointless. My partner (non-psychologist) has taken enough of those over the years for employment he can get any result he wants from it.

BMI... This falls outside my area of expertise, but as someone whose fat, and having worked extensively with one of the founders of "Health At Every Size"... BMI is janky as all heck. It's coming close to being MBTI levels of scam at this point.

Brain development ends at 25... I agree, it doesn't. Your brain is constantly developing and changing. It's called "learning". However, there are certain core aspects of your brain that develop to a specific point and then stop. For instance, your occipital lobes basically "stops development" in early childhood (it's major structures stop changing, but linkages between neurons continue and shift throughout your life). That said, most of the major structures do "stop developing" around 25-30 years of age, but in sort of the same way your skeletal structure stops developing around then... in that you're a living creature so you are ALWAYS changing.

Okay... and now for the bit I really wanted to weigh in on... the IQ stuff. A few things of note. IQ was initially developed to determine what sort of educational class a child should be placed into, as the French public school system wanted to properly place young children in classes for their age. As it was French initially, this is why 100 is an important number, as 100 was to be considered "the correct amount of academic intelligence for someone of this case", and they didn't look "above" that, as it wasn't considered important, and so it was seen as "percentage of correct grade level". Fast forward through a rascist at Stanford (skipping as the previous poster actually explained the reasons for it being shit pretty well) and we move on to more modern IQ testing. Today's IQ testing is primarily used in two main places, education placement (wooo! Full circle!), and to assist with diagnosing some of the more difficult to diagnose conditions. I cannot discuss much of what is used to determine an IQ score (each of the five main tests I am trained in use different aspects and testing methodology so no two tests are equivalent) as knowledge of what is in the test and how they work affects the test results (I'm not allowed to be IQ tested anymore, for instance, as I know how they generate the outcomes... sort of like how my partner can get any MBTI, I can mess with IQ score results). However, I can tell you that the primary test I use, tests mathematical skills, memory, problem solving, and spatial awareness. There are ways to adjust the test if someone has physical disabilities that would impair their ability to do the tests as well. That said, I wouldn't even consider doing IQ testing on someone unless it was part of a more wide-spread diagnostic screening. I'd be using the test to determine things like potential learning disorders, ADHD, ASD, and more. However, for most I wouldn't even do IQ testing for those, it'd only if it was needed for some reason, or the results from other tests suggested I should see what the outcomes are for certain specific portions of the IQ testing methodology.

So... IQ testing... not useful for figuring out "how intelligent" someone is, but very useful for determining "this person's ability to do <x> combined with all these other things the person does shows they most likely have disorder <y>".

I can't keep having the same conversations about love languages, mbti, iq, bmi, "brain fully formed at 25" and shit over and over again...

[rothpie]

❝FIDELITY❞ |part5

MASTERLIST -`✮´- Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader x JJ Maybank

Summary: Kook!Reader’s world is upended by betrayal, and her only way forward might lie with the most unlikely person—JJ Maybank. But as they build a new life together, old flames and past mistakes refuse to stay buried.

Warnings: sadnesses.

previous - next

He’d never thought of himself as someone who could be in a serious relationship. He never thought he could be devoted enough, or love someone that deeply. For Rafe, it was beyond impossible. Fleeting interests had always come first in his life.

It’s not that he found it difficult to connect or share feelings with someone; he just never wanted to. He’d always seen it as a waste of time.

Whether love even existed was something he still wasn’t sure of, because he didn’t believe in it.

But he was sure the feelings he had for you were real. He couldn’t say it was love—he wasn’t even sure love existed in that way. But the affection he felt for you was beyond words.

Yes, he was rich—rich enough to support his family for three generations. But he quickly realized that the bond he had with you was his real wealth.

He’d never thought of you as different from anyone else. To him, you were a typical Kook: rich, aware of your own beauty. To overlook that beauty, he would have to be blind.

Yes, he’d liked girls before. He liked spending time with them, preferring quick, physical flings over emotional entanglements. He was the kind of guy who enjoyed one-night stands.

Until he met you.

You’d met in a completely ordinary way. You already knew of each other; you both came from the island’s wealthiest families. It was impossible not to know one another.

When you ended up side by side at one of those dull Kook events, neither of you thought you'd hit it off. You weren't much of a drinker, usually preferring lighter, non-alcoholic cocktails. But that event was so painfully boring that you thought you couldn’t get through it without a drink in hand.

You hadn’t expected him to be there. You hadn’t expected him to want to escape the event, just like you did. And you certainly hadn’t expected that, while grabbing different drinks, the two of you would start talking.

You ended up spending the whole night together, maybe just to pass the time, maybe because you actually enjoyed the conversation—you couldn’t really tell.

But after that night, neither of you could stop thinking about the other.

Surprisingly— you were the first girl to linger in Rafe’s mind without him sleeping with her. He couldn’t get the length of the conversation, or your laugh, out of his head.

From then on, things began to change. At every party, his eyes searched for you. At every Kook event, he hoped to find you alone—watching for those rare moments when you weren’t with your family. He didn’t see you as some object of desire; he saw you for who you were.

He didn’t just want to have sex with you; he wanted to spend time with you.

At parties, the second he saw you, he unconsciously pushed away any girl sitting next to him. He wanted you to see him differently, even though you already knew his reputation.

When he realized you were starting to show up at every party, he started distancing himself from other girls. Not only did he push them aside, but he wouldn’t even let them come close to him. He acted without thinking, because if he had thought it through, he would have found a way to stop himself.

He didn’t want you to see him as a playboy. He wasn’t sure how he wanted you to see him; he just wanted you to see him as… a good person. Even he couldn’t believe he was trying to change himself, but he couldn’t help it.

Rafe looked at you with the same awe an eight-year-old might have if they saw Spider-Man in person.

He couldn’t help but want you. But it wasn’t just desire—he was crazy about you.

Every time you talked, he wanted more. For you, he’d probably break down the atom just so you two could talk about it for hours.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to share a bed. But for the first time, Rafe didn’t feel fixated on that. He didn’t just have sex with you; he made love to you. Every kiss ignited a warmth in his chest. Every time you moaned his name, his heart pounded for you. Every time you held hands, he couldn’t help but kiss your hand.

He’d never felt this way for anyone. No one else was like you. You were the only woman who made him feel like he even had a heart—aside from his mom.

And it went on like that. Rafe stayed loyal to you. Even when you weren’t officially together, when you were just flirting and spending nights together, he never looked at another girl.

At parties, he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Whether it was your hand, your arm, or your waist… he always stayed close. He liked acting as if you two were in a real relationship.

Rafe thought he was just feeling things more intensely than usual. He’d never felt this way about relationships before. You were the woman who’d stayed in his life the longest.

When you two finally got together, it felt like a fairy tale. Everything was perfect, and it stayed that way. Every time he saw you, his heart warmed. Every touch, every time you called him “my love,” it erased the world around him. There was only you. His whole world revolved around you.

Everything was perfect.

Rafe’s life had been nothing but a sea of gray. But the moment you entered his life, all the colors returned.

During the year and a half of your relationship, Rafe felt like he was lying on a beach, listening to the ocean waves. Every moment with you brought a peace to his life like birdsong.

Yes, there were arguments. But you two always found a way through. It was surprising, but he couldn’t stay away from you; he couldn’t stand being apart. You two never even talked about breaking up.

Not until now.

Neither of you had the strength for a breakup conversation. To do that would mean it was truly over. That the beautiful year and a half was done. Rafe had never wanted that. But somehow, he knew his reactions—the way things had spiraled—had led to this moment, and it scared him.

A few weeks back, you’d sent a message saying you were keeping the baby. He hadn’t known what to say. He was afraid, afraid things would stay just like this. And a message saying you were keeping the baby definitely felt like a breakup message in your language. He was sure of that. His heart and mind were at war.

Every moment with you had made his heart race with love and excitement; he’d never felt this kind of weight—especially from you.

“Earth to Rafe! Get it together, dude.” Kelce’s voice snapped him out of it, and Rafe looked up from his drink to find Kelce looking ready to shake him. He hadn’t even realized how lost in thought he was. His day-to-day was becoming affected.

He was lovesick, but he was the one who’d pushed you away.

Rafe dropped his hand from his chin and ran his fingers through his hair. He hated looking weak. He’d worked so hard to prove that he wasn’t. He wanted to show everyone a breakup wouldn’t break him. His eyes, lips, and face might lie, but his mind was consumed with thoughts of you. “I’m fine,” he replied, his voice firm. He felt like he was losing his mind when he wasn’t with you, but he wasn’t ready to accept what came with you.

He liked risk, loved adrenaline. He enjoyed going full throttle, ignoring the dangers.

And you were pregnant. With Rafe’s baby.

There were so many times he wanted to erase that thought from his mind. He wanted to pretend it didn’t exist. He loved you like crazy, but this wasn’t the life he wanted or was ready for.

He didn’t feel good enough to be a father. He wasn’t at an age to start a family. He had a whole life to live. He could spend years with you, but he wasn’t ready to start a family. All he wanted was you. Just you, without all that extra.

Rafe rubbed his eyes, feeling suffocated by his thoughts, glancing around. He was sick of this stupid place. Golfing, hanging out at the country club—it all felt so fake. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, as if he was suffocating even though they were outside.

It was like the sunny sky suddenly turned to pouring rain in front of his eyes.

“This place is boring as fuck. I’m out.” He raised a hand to call for the check, noticing the questioning looks from Topper and Kelce. He didn’t owe them any explanation. Who were they to him anyway?

As if they were so important…

“I swear, serious relationships are a disease. If it’s gotten even to Rafe Cameron…” Rafe exhaled heavily, watching the waiter approach as Topper’s mocking laughter echoed. Even his friends talking like that was getting to him.

He’d already gotten into a fight with Kelce over you weeks ago. Even if things were over between you, he wasn’t going to forgive Kelce, not after he’d slut-shamed you. Topper clearly wanted things to cool down, hoping his two closest friends would both be at his upcoming birthday.

"It's like he's had a serious relationship before and found someone to actually date," Topper snickered, while Kelce nudged him under the table. Kelce looked ready to lunge at him, clearly annoyed, and Topper seemed just as irritated. Bringing up your situation, knowing it would rile Rafe, made him look like he was out for a fight. If they weren’t at the golf club, Rafe was sure Kelce would be on him in a heartbeat.

"Talk like your dating history’s any better, it’s hilarious. First, there's Ruthie—total bitch nightmare. Then there's Sarah Cameron, your best friend’s sister. Clean up your act first, creep."

Rafe could hardly stand it anymore. If he heard Kelce mention one more name from his life, he was going to knock him out. He’d rather throw himself off a cliff than lose more brain cells listening to these two idiots. When their chatter finally died down, Rafe took a deep breath. He hated this.

"Hey Sofia, you look as… Pogue as ever. You guys just love that, don’t you?" Topper grinned, watching the waitress as she met his gaze with a blank look, as if his very presence annoyed her. She quickly shifted her attention back to Rafe. Watching the exchange, Topper nudged Kelce, amused by the interest sparking in Sofia's eyes. He couldn’t help but find it funny.

As Rafe took out his wallet, he listened to his friends’ ongoing conversation. "I can't be alone here with you in this dumb place. I can’t stand you and your girlfriend. It’s like the two of you found your perfect match.” Instead of responding, Topper rolled his eyes and ignored Kelce as he took out his wallet.

Topper, like Kelce and Rafe, took out his wallet, muttering, "Right, says the guy with so many partners he’s practically a walking biohazard."

Kelce's eyes widened as he insisted that wasn’t true, making Topper chuckle. He loved stretching the truth for a laugh. Kelce rolled his eyes, quickly handing his card to the waitress, while Rafe’s gaze drifted to his open wallet. He couldn’t help but notice the photo tucked inside—a picture of you and him.

Was this how you’d keep showing up in his life?

Would you just appear, throwing yourself in his face whenever he least expected it?

He hadn’t seen you in weeks. Rafe wasn’t sure if you were avoiding him or if you were holed up somewhere, in your own world. He sighed as he looked at the photo, memories washing over him. He missed the old days, and the weight of this picture hit him so hard he felt disoriented. Your cheeks pressed together in the photo, with Rafe's arms wrapped around your waist while you snapped the shot. That smile on your face—it was so beautiful he couldn’t look away. He could’ve stared at you for hours, just watching. He had watched you sleep so many times. Somehow, you only grew more beautiful each time he saw you.

His love for you was a flame that refused to die, and it didn’t take a genius to see it. He loved you.

Though he couldn’t admit it, he was scared. It shouldn’t have ended like this, but he didn’t know what to do.

Rafe wasn’t one for big moments. He wasn’t known for making the best decisions. He’d usually take his time, mulling things over until he was sure they were right. But in quick decisions, he tended to mess up and stumble.

Hearing about your pregnancy face-to-face had sent a wave of panic crashing through him. Even though he had no idea what to do, he tried to keep his composure. He couldn’t forget the moment you’d tearfully said the two of you were a mistake. He wasn’t used to seeing you cry. Those red eyes of yours were burned into his memory.

He didn’t want regrets. He didn’t want to wish he’d done things differently.

But the thought of a happy ending with you? That had never even crossed his mind.

As he kept looking at the photo, a faint smile tugged at his lips. He couldn’t help but remember that day. Time with you had been so perfect, filling him with warmth every time he thought of it.

He remembered it so clearly. It was your third month together, seven months since everything between you had started. You’d shared countless special moments. Every experience with you was a first for him. Whatever you two did, he felt like a clueless schoolboy with a crush—and he meant that.

Who had he ever woken up with, wrapped in his arms? Who else’s hair had he smelled as he fell asleep? Who else’s eyes had he gazed into, getting lost? Who else had made his heart race like this?

No one. In some ways, Rafe Cameron was a total virgin Mary.

For the first time in ages, your family had to go overseas, leaving you home alone—for a week. Being with you felt like a vacation to him. You swam, you cooked, he tried to make you breakfast, you showered together, you slept…

That week was so perfect he felt like he was filled with peace. He’d replay it in his mind over and over again. You and those memories were always there. Always would be.

This photo was taken just after you’d both showered, right before cooking a meal together for the first time. You both made dinner that evening. It wasn’t the best, but because you’d done it together, no amount of money could buy a meal that meaningful.

It was honestly an achievement for you both. You went into the kitchen at six and finally finished cooking by nine. At one point, you even considered ordering pizza but convinced each other you were close to done. And then you spent another two hours in the kitchen—guess it wasn’t so “close” after all.

It was such a beautiful day.

After dinner, you’d made sex.

As he felt his smile widen at the memory, a sudden jab to his leg snapped his attention back. His smile faded instantly, replaced by his usual hard look. Trying to figure out what had happened, he noticed the waitress waiting for him. Frustration bubbled up in him for interrupting his happy thoughts of you. He looked away from the photo, quickly pulling out his card without making eye contact. He knew that if he looked at you, he wouldn’t be able to look away.

"Sofia’s waiting. Just give her what she wants," Topper teased, a smirk on his face, as Rafe sighed and tapped his card.

If he gave attention to every girl who showed interest, like he used to, he’d never be able to keep a serious relationship. Not that he was sure your relationship was even still… ongoing.

But he was certain he’d be off the market for a while. Touching someone else after you didn’t feel right. Embarrassingly enough, he doubted he’d even, well, respond to anyone else.

He stood up, grabbing his keys as he hurried past the waitress without a second glance. As crazy as it might make him to be alone, he couldn’t handle his friends’ stupid conversations any longer.

Even if it drove him mad, he couldn’t stay by Topper or Kelce’s side for another second.

As soon as he got in his car, his phone rang, and he let out a long sigh. Not a single moment of peace today. His thin veneer of calm was barely hanging on, and it felt like the day was determined to shatter it. Starting the car, he glanced at the number on the screen before it even connected.

Wheezie Cameron.

What on earth could she want?

Honestly, if Wheezie was calling him, it’d better be because she was in actual danger or Rose had finally stormed out of the house for good.

He was really hoping for the second one. He didn’t have a penny to spare right now.

“What?” he answered, not hiding his irritation. All he wanted was to get out of this trashy place and be stretched out at home with the ocean in view. No Wheezie, no Rose, and definitely no Ward. In fact, he’d had it with all of them. He was so done with seeing the same faces every day.

All he wanted was silence.

“Hello to you too, Rafe.” Rafe couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her tone. It drove him crazy. He wanted to chuck his phone out the window. Whatever Wheezie needed, she’d better spit it out so he could say no, hang up, and blast Kendrick Lamar.

“Just tell me, Wheezie. I’m not in the mood.” Wheezie was still young, and Rafe tried—halfheartedly—to keep from cursing around her. Ward and Rose had chewed him out about his language, and sure, they had a point. But it was annoying. He was the big brother—though honestly, he’d have preferred being an only child.

“Nope,” she said smugly. Rafe tightened his grip on the wheel, jaw clenched. Why did both his sisters have to be such idiots? It was like God deliberately made both his sisters total morons. “I’m not telling you a thing until you say hello properly.”

Rafe slammed his hand against the steering wheel, fighting the urge to yell. He forced himself to keep his eyes open. He was driving, after all, and the last thing he wanted was a crash. But if Wheezie kept this up, he’d be losing control of the wheel voluntarily.

“Hello! Hello, Wheezie! Now, spill it!” The words came out as a shout before he could stop himself. Immediate regret hit him. His temper was awful lately. You were gone. In short, he was a mess.

When he heard her give a dramatic sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t fazed, of course. She was used to this, barely fazed by him anymore. Classic Rafe, right? “So, I was out today. Shopping with Rose—”

Rafe knew how his sister worked—unfortunately. She wasn’t excitable, but she loved to narrate. Whatever the hell had happened, she was going to start from the million hours leading up to it. With a deep breath, he braced himself for the full play-by-play, including the time of day and every store clerk’s name. God help him if she started counting her steps…

The Kendrick Lamar dream was officially dead.

He had zero interest in listening to a full breakdown of her day with Rose, but if he hung up, Wheezie would go ballistic. She’d tell their dad, and Ward would chew him out for that, too. That he couldn’t deal with. Right now, he just wanted a bit of time to himself. Just some peace. Just him, alone.

“Then, I saw this blue dress—”

Rafe wanted to drive the car straight off a cliff. He couldn’t handle this. This was killing him. Every pointless detail Wheezie added wrecked his efforts to calm down.

“...and then we left, and we ran into Sarah. She asked about you. Can you believe it? Then she said she wanted to meet up— Family reunion!”

What the—what is even happening?

Even when you were holding your baby in your mind, all you could think about was ice cream. The cravings were off the charts. Sometimes, you wanted something so badly it felt like the world might end if you didn’t get it. Lately, strawberries were your biggest craving. You couldn’t stop. If your hands weren’t stained red from eating so many, you felt like you’d explode.

But right now, your mind had drifted back to ice cream. You wanted vanilla ice cream so much you could’ve dived into a whole tub of it.

You wanted someone with you when the cravings hit. Someone who’d put up with your fussing—like Rafe.

Just thinking about him made you tense, which was happening way too often these days. Especially now, carrying his baby, it was almost always on your mind, making you anxious.

Being alone was really hard. You’d never felt alone in a crowd—until now.

You waited.

You really waited. When you told him you were keeping the baby, you’d waited for some kind of response. You’d waited for him to call, to come over, to tell you he’d be there. But he never showed.

He didn’t text, didn’t call, didn’t make an effort. He left you to handle this alone.

To be honest, you hadn’t been sure you’d even keep the baby when you first told him. You were just so angry, you’d wanted him to think you would. But even so, your mind never actually veered toward an abortion, though you had the right. There was nothing wrong with choosing an abortion—but you’d decided you wanted this baby.

The idea of a man controlling a woman’s choices was sickening. Having an abortion was a right, just like having a child was.

When you went for your first appointment and saw the baby for the first time, your heart raced. They asked if the father would be coming, and you didn’t want to answer, but a quick “No” slipped out. Your mind wanted him nowhere near this, but your heart couldn’t quite let go.

Luckily, you’d always been someone who chose her head over her heart.

An “almost-man” who’d abandoned you with his child—he wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t even a man at all; he was just a boy.

Taking responsibility was part of it. You’d respected his boundaries. He’d made it clear he didn’t want this, so you’d made your choice to raise the baby on your own.

Single motherhood would be hard, but you wanted this child.

And you’d do what Rafe wanted. He didn’t want the baby, so you’d make sure he’d never see it. You’d make sure he’d never touch, never meet this child.

When you were on that exam table, he should have been the one holding your hand.

But he wasn’t.

The support came from where you hadn’t expected it.

Your mom.

She was still upset you were keeping the baby, but it didn’t take her long to understand this was your life. The day you’d left home in anger had seemed to shock her into a full 180.

You knew your dad didn’t approve, either, but they’d never once turned their backs on you. Maybe they were scared you’d leave and never come back. Who knows?

When you learned the baby was healthy, you felt a deep calm settle over you. The doctor told you it was too early to know the gender, but you could wait. That was okay.

You were two months and three weeks along.

Despite everything, all the heartache, when you listened to the baby’s heartbeat, it was like none of it had ever happened. When your mom saw your eyes welling up, she quickly looked down, but she squeezed your hand and smiled.

From the woman who’d once shouted for you to get an abortion, to the one tearing up over her grandchild…

It was strange.

The baby was healthy. There was no sign of any issues. And soon enough, in just a few weeks, you’d know the gender. That made you happy.

Your hands were shaking when they gave you the ultrasound photo. You didn’t feel shy about asking for a few extras—you wanted to put them everywhere. The reality of it struck you all over again. You were going to have a baby, to be a mother, and there were only months left to go.

You’d be a mom, and you’d do whatever it took to give this child a good life.

You

Are you still working at the ice cream shop?

JJ Maybank

Nah, got fired.

Why?

You

Shit. I really need some ice cream.

JJ Maybank

Ok.

Vanilla or chocolate?

To be added to this specific taglist, and remain tagged, please interact with the posts🤍

[biancadoes1]

This is not really an ask. But I was reading an older article today about Nic when she first tried on the intimacy wear at home in front of her mirror & thought “Absolutely not. How am I going to do this.” Then proceeded to hide it in the bottom of her laundry basket.

It reminded me of the way she talked about how terrified she felt in the lead up to their first kiss, to the point she had a stress rash. Gives an insight into how big of a deal all of this was for her. Scary even. How vulnerable she felt. (I mean who wouldn’t!) Then the things she says about Luke - he’s so supportive, he never made her feel judged, he made her feel safe, he is just a joy to be around, she can’t imagine doing this with anybody else, what was originally terrifying turned out to be some of her favourite days, the whole experience is just so special and not something they can explain to anyone else, how they have amazing communication - anything they were unsure or nervous about they could just talk about it.

I think because we mostly see the fun & flirty side of them, it’s easy to forget sometimes just how much their bond and that comfort and closeness they have with each other was very much earned. There is a real strength and depth to their relationship. Like she says, they really went on a journey together… she always really liked him but now she has a real love for him.

The way they make each other feel seen, safe and supported (wether that be on red carpets or on set) is such a beautiful and special thing. I think about the strongest relationships in my own life and it’s the ones where I’ve been the most vulnerable, where they’ve seen me at my most unguarded. The ones that have seen me through the hard stuff and that make the difficult & scary parts of life more bearable.

I guess this is just a reminder that the love we see they have for each other is very real just like N says it is. They laughed and joked a lot on the world tour about how much they enjoyed it & I don’t doubt that for a second and I love that light, fun, cheeky side to their relationship. But just like Pen & Colin, there’s history there for Luke & Nic… one that is very hard to compete with. There were some very real fears, struggles and growth that they bore witness to & supported each other through to get to this point. It’s not surprising that their relationship is not like any other relationship she has. She said towards the end it became effortless for them. They clearly adore and respect each other deeply. I do not think it would be easy for another partner to compete with that kind of earned ease and trust. Or for L & N to not be drawn back to the safety of each others arms. I think they are home to each other and I think they are reminded of that every day they are together and apart.

❤️❤️❤️

[poguehearted77]

Just Another Cliché

Summary: Rafe has been asking to take you out for years and you always shoot him down, after a particularly bad day, you decide things can't get much worse.

<<Here's some fluffy angst for those who need it>>

Shitty was an understatement for the day you had. This day will go down in history as the worst day any soul has ever lived through.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." The murmur is bitter on your tongue as you stuff your hands deeper into your warm pockets. The breath of your words were visible in the crisp winter air as you were about to pass by Rafe Cameron who waited patiently outside of your apartment building with a single rose just like he always did.

Since your senior year of high school, every year on the fourteenth of February, he would wait outside your complex, asking you out, then you say no, then he goes home. That's the tradition.

Well, technically you never said no. You'd always make up some excuse. 'I don't have time for a relationship right now' or 'Now's a bad time' are just a few of the examples you've used over the last five years.

It's not that there was anything wrong with him. You actually did find him attractive. Aside from the sketchy reputation he had going for him back in high school, he was still a relatively nice guy.

You just didn't have the time for a relationship, or at least you didn't before.

A small smile forms on his face as he sees you, already knowing what to expect. Another excuse like "Fine," yup, just as he thought- Wait.

"Say that again?" His head shakes in disbelief, blue eyes bulging slightly. Your shoulders shrug under your heavy-duty winter jacket. "My car was towed, then I lost my job, so why not lose my dignity too? Let's go out." You say and his heart begins to bounce off the confines of his ribs.

Not sure if it was the frosty air nipping at his cheeks or his lifetime wish finally unwrapping before his eyes, his cheeks flushed and he blinked a few times. "You won't regret this, I promise." he holds out the rose for you to take, and you finally do. For the first time in five years. You bite back a scoff, not in the mood for empty promises.

"Why haven't you given up yet?" You ask and now he places his hands in his pockets as a chilling breeze sweeps past you. He's rocking back on his heels slightly, "Life's too short to give up." The tiny smile on his face does make you scoff this time but he moves past it, "I'll text you later," is the last thing he says before he walks off.

You look down at the rose, then at his shrinking figure as he heads for the distance. A little pep in his step and you shook your head, immediately regretting your decision.

Great, this is exactly what you needed, another cliché.

-

Just another cliché is exactly what it was. On the lowest day of your life, you finally gave Rafe a chance. Of course, he changes your life in ways you couldn't imagine and leaves you with a dead weight of regret for not giving in sooner.

Your first date wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but it was fun. The two of you were inexperienced skaters failing to skate in the middle of the town square during the heart of winter. With festive lights outlining the rink where you laughed every time one of you fell.

There was even a point in time when you'd both embraced the cold connection with the ice floor and had a deep conversation on the sidelines, watching the other skaters circle the rink.

"Why me?" The question slips out before you can catch it and he licks his lips. He anticipated the query would arise eventually. "You remember that party Hailey Vanderbilt threw back in senior year?"

You hum with a nod, that was a party you'll never forget. Pool toys ended up in the trees, broken windows, jello in the hot tub, fights in the front yard and gambling in the back. "You and a few of the girls were playing truth or dare and they had dared you to start a rumour that I'd shaved my head because my family had joined some cult or some shit."

It took you a second, but the memory came back to you. "You don't know this, but I was fucking wasted behind the couch, but I'll never forget the way you stood up for me to them and refused to do it, and I dunno, I jus' think that was really cool of you." His head turns to you, his gaze softening when he looks at you.

At that moment, you felt the butterflies flap around in your stomach for the first time. He clears his throat, expression becoming more sombre as he continues. "My mom," He starts, taking a difficult swallow to get the words out.

"She was really sick. I got caught up with the wrong crowd to deal with it. Doing anything people said would get me distracted, even for a little, but she got worse and me being high every day didn't help so I quit. Her chemo was taking everything from her and eventually, she just shaved it off, she hated looking in the mirror and it killed me."

Your chest tightened at the story, having a sneaking suspicion of where this was going, "So when you shaved your head..." You trail off and Rafe nods along, turning away from you as a stray tear falls. "It was for her. You sticking up for me meant so much more than you know."

So there you both sat, on the ice with your backs against the wall in silence while the faint Christmas music chimed in the background. The date had taken a sad turn but you're glad it did, it sparked the beginning of your forever-evolving bond.

That was only the first date of many. Dozens and dozens of dates had flown past you and with each one you hated yourself a little more for letting him stand outside of your complex for five years rather than invite him inside.

"This is a nice place." He compliments as he takes a look around before settling himself on the couch with you beside him. "Thanks, it used to be a lot nicer when I could afford it. Had to sell some stuff to keep it after I lost my job."

He chuckles, "That explains why we're facing a blank wall and no television." and you pinch him. "Sacrifices had to be made. Who needs a TV anyways when there's so many other things we could do to keep ourselves busy." Your wandering hand gently runs down his firm thigh and you can feel the muscles in his leg tighten.

This was unchartered territory for you. You'd been dating for almost three months now and have never been intimate in that way, but Rafe knew the kind of person you were. A perfectionist, you need to be sure of everything before you try it.

Based on how fervently you were currently kissing along the length of his neck he could assume he had a pretty good idea of where your head was at. "Baby, baby--" He struggles to keep you at bay so he can lock eyes with you. "Are you sure about this? We don't have-" You silence him with the passionate attack of your lips against his.

Nearly tackling him onto his back, your hips straddling his as you demonstrated your certainty to him.

-

The months went on and sleepovers became more frequent. Even when Rafe had that tired look in his eye which was more often these days, you kept him up with your bright eyes and wide smile as you explained to him the newest conspiracy that intrigued you.

He tried his best to listen to what you were saying but he'd often lose himself in the labyrinth of his own mind. You were just so cute when you were talking about what you were passionate about. Especially when you wore the glasses you cursed so much, opting for contacts during the day.

"Why don't you wear your glasses more often?" He asks and you frown, "Rafee, did you hear anything I just said?" He nods, "Of course I did. I heard every last word.... up until about five minutes ago." You whine and he hugs you tight as an apology, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead.

You couldn't stay mad at him. That was proven time and time again when even your biggest fights would be resolved within 24 hours. Rafe insisted on talking things out, no matter how hurt the both of you may feel. He never wanted to go to sleep without making things right. "Life's too short," He would say.

You both had your shortcomings, but that goes without saying. Rafe was short-tempered and you were stubborn, a bad combination for an opinionated conversation. Things can quickly spiral out of control but when it came to apologies, Rafe outdid you every time. Flowers, or a small gift to show his feelings.

Even now, as Rafe leant against your kitchen island as you transferred the flowers he'd gifted you 'just because'. A weak smile graced his lips as he noted the way you did everything with such intensity, putting your all into everything you did.

Leaning forward onto his crossed forearms he watches you. "You're staring, babe." You say and he can only hum. "Can't help it. I like what I see," His words elicit a soft warmth to radiate in your chest.

"I love you, y'know that?" You're startled as you feel his arms wrapping around your waist from behind. "You tell me only every day, Rafe." He comes down to peck your cheek before you're rotating in his hold to face him. "But I love you too." You're unable to contain your smile as you say it.

It wasn't the first time but every time the words left your mouth, it gave you a little bubbly feeling. Security blossomed within you anytime your eyes grazed over his features.

"Let's go out tonight, yeah? Let's go dancing." Rafe declares without thinking and you laugh, tilting your head to look at the time over the stove. "It's almost midnight, nothing's open at this hour." You reason, but he doesn't back down.

Holding you by the hand, he twirls you. "Not a problem, we'll just do it here." That night your apartment was filled with laughter and soft jazz. Rafe hardly ever had this much energy so late but you loved it.

Two days after that night of dancing, you woke up to an eerie silence that felt too heavy for the morning. You went about your routine, still buoyed by the memory of Rafe's laughter filling your apartment. You checked your phone—just the usual notifications, a missed call from an unknown number, and a message from Sarah that simply said, "Call me."

You barely had time to press dial before she picked up, her voice trembling. She tried to speak, but only the sound of soft, choked sobs came through. Finally, she managed, "I’m so sorry…"

The words hit you, but you didn’t understand them. You wanted her to stop, to say something else—anything else. She kept speaking, her words blurred and distant, as though you were underwater, drowning. Somewhere in her explanation, you heard the words, "peacefully… in his sleep." But it didn’t feel peaceful. Your mind raced, demanding answers. Why hadn’t he told you? How long had he known?

Over the days that followed, Rafe's family gently filled in the pieces: he’d been sick for years, silently enduring, doing everything he could to hide it. Every date, every moment spent laughing with you, was a deliberate choice he made to live his last days fully, in love and joy, with you.

He hadn’t wanted you to know because he couldn't bear to see you suffer for him the same way he was once familiar with in his senior year. Even in the end, he kept the truth locked away, shielding you from the loss he knew was coming.

The weight of his choice tore you apart. You wanted to be angry, to hate him for leaving you out, but in his silence, there was also a strange kind of love. A love that had given you a few precious, unburdened moments together. Still, the pain settled deep within you, refusing to ease.

The anger, hurt, and ache became constant companions in the days that followed. But in his absence, you began to understand just how much he’d given for you.

He'd shared with you how hard it was for him to deal with that eerie state of loss. The stage where the person isn't gone but you know you'll lose them. It alters you in a messed up kind of way and he wanted you as far from that reality as possible. He was protecting you from his own condition till the very end.

Helping his family to clear out his apartment was easily the hardest thing you'd ever done. You couldn't do it without tearing up with every belonging of his you touched.

His favourite hoodie that he never let you wear but loved when you did. The polaroids in his drawer that you took from your first date, taken from the floor of the ice rink.

You noticed he'd scribbled writing on the back of the photo.

She finally said yes.

That was all it took. The last bits of your composure were stolen from you and you wept on his bedroom floor. Everyone always told you it would get easier but it never did. How could things get easier when the other half of your heart was buried six feet below the ground?

You learned to live with the loss, forcing a smile when in the company of others and taking deep breaths every morning when you woke up. Mildly disappointed the realm beyond the living hadn't reaped you during your slumber.

Very slowly, you begin to adjust to this new reality. It’s not the life you imagined, but you learn to live with the loss, carrying him with you in the smallest, most tender ways. His favourite hoodie becomes your comfort on cold nights, wrapping you in his memory and his scent.

Just because he was gone doesn't mean you'd end all of your traditions. Each year on the fourteenth of February, you visit his grave, placing a single red rose on the stone as a quiet tribute.

Though the ache remains, you hold his spirit close, carrying him forward into every milestone and memory yet to come, honouring the love you shared while finding the strength to continue onward.

In some ways, your love story turned out to be just another cliché—until it ripped your heart out from your chest, leaving you with the unbearable ache of everything he left unsaid, every unfulfilled promise, and the haunting silence of a future that will always belong to him.

Somehow, even in the quietest, most heart-wrenching moments, you never gave up on finding the silver lining, because life’s too short.

[temilyrights]

43) “god you’re so emotionally constipated.” for Emily x Reader please.

history smothers us

emily prentiss x gn!reader

summary: years of unspoken words and misconceptions threaten to destroy what remains of a once close relationship. you couldn't imagine your life without emily. now you look at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. featuring prompt "god you're so emotionally consitpated" from my prompt list.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst with a happy ending. mention of blood. no use of y/n. set in season 12. unit chief prentiss.

a/n: thank you so much for the request <3 sorry it took me a while I struggled to find the right idea. I imagine this wasn't what you had in mind but I do hope you enjoy it anyway. also side note: i've deleted my taglist, i'm restarting because it was years old so if anyone would like be re-tagged or anyone new would like to be added pls lmk!

The police lights flash in the midnight sky. Agents and local police spread across the farmhouse. And you, sitting in the back of an ambulance, blood dripping down the side of your head, the beginnings of a headache making itself known.  

The bright torch shining in your eyes makes you wince, but the EMT clears you of a concussion and hands you pain meds to swallow. You drag your hand through your hair, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips. 

The unsub had come out of nowhere and whacked you over the head with a metal pole, and he probably would’ve done a lot more if it wasn’t for Tara being two steps behind you. 

Honestly, you were fine. A little banged up, with a nasty bruise already forming, but the blood had been wiped away and it was almost like it had never happened.

Well, apart from the very angry Unit Chief Prentiss stalking towards you. 

You wish this was an unfamiliar sight, but god she’d been back months now and you don’t think her smile had been pointed in your direction once. 

“What were you thinking?” She scolds, voice sharp and eyes narrowed. You don’t miss the shaking of her hands as she holds them tightly on her hips or the rising flush of her cheeks, both she would blame on the cold but you knew they were born out of concern, not that she’d ever admit it. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise the FBI now required its agents to have the abilities to see through walls.” You roll your eyes, the half-joke an attempt to fix her glare, but you know even as the words pass your lips it’s futile. Your shoulders slump, already tired for the fight ahead,  “He came out of nowhere, Prentiss.” 

Her lips purse, “They require you to be able to clear a room. It seems you might need a refresher course. Maybe until you can be trusted and I deem you requalified it’s best you stay back in quantico.” 

“What?” You ask incredulously. Of all the dumb things- “Let me get this straight, you’re benching me over nothing? Tara was through that door seconds later. I wasn’t defying your orders. You have no reason to do this!”

“I want you to redo your basic training so I know you can be trusted in the field.” She demands, stoic, serious, and so far away from the soft woman you used to be able to reach out to. 

You laugh, but the noise is sad and wild. You shake your head in disbelief, watching the woman in front of you that years ago used to be the person you were closest to in the world. Now you stare at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. “God, you’re so emotionally constipated.” 

“Excuse me?” 

You push yourself off the end of the ambulance, bringing yourself to your full height and meeting her gaze. You knew the day she accepted the unit chief position this wouldn’t end well, there was too much history, too much the two of you had left unsaid, hurt and anger smothering any possible relationship left. 

“Let’s not pretend this has anything to do with my performance.” You begin,

words low enough that if she didn’t listen the words threatened to disappear with the wind, “It’s because I got hurt and you’d rather damage my career and ruin the tatters of our relationship than admit that me getting hurt scared you.” 

Emily steps backwards, face stricken. Her hands fall from her hips, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles for words. 

You decide there’s nothing left she can say. You excuse yourself and grab a lift with Luke, happy to leave the crime scene and your boss behind. After everyone’s finished at the farmhouse and packed up at the police station it’s nearing two am and everyone is ordered back to the hotel to catch a few hours of sleep before the flight in the morning. 

Your feet are dragging by the time you make it to your room. The meds have done their job though and your headache had faded away, but nothing but sleep was going to help your heavy and aching bones. You wave a tired goodbye to Tara, who unlike Emily had no issues checking in and making sure you were okay, and then retreat to your room. 

You slump into the chair at the desk, telling yourself you’ll find the energy to get ready for bed in one minute. But so thankful to finally be off your feet. Your reprieve lasts only minutes before a knock sounds at your door. A withered sigh leaves your lips and you consider ignoring it but still find yourself pushing yourself upright and making your way back to the door. 

When you open it, you wish you’d listened to your thoughts. 

“Hi?” You say hesitantly, staring into the tired face of Emily Prentiss. There’s no anger, her shoulders are almost slumped, defeated maybe? You look away, too scared to analyse further. 

“Can I come in?” 

You open the door further allowing her entrance. She smiles, tight lipped at you, nodding her thanks. You close the door and wait for her to speak, pondering how in the hell you both got to awkward silences and forced tight lipped smiles when years ago you two could share looks across the room and know what the other was thinking, spent hours talking and laughing together, how you had built a life and never thought there would be a day that she wasn’t in it with you. 

“We can’t go on like this.” She starts eyes meeting yours before flickering away, “Things between us have not been right since I returned and I think maybe we should clear the air. I want to be the Unit Chief, I want to be back here at Quantico but that only works if we can be a team.” 

You scoff. It slips from your mouth, uncontrolled and harsh. Emily’s gaze snaps to yours, her surprise at the sound clear. You shake your head, “What is there to say?” Where would we even begin?

“I-” She chokes, blinking as the emotions claw at her throat. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Your brows draw in confusion as you shake your head, “What are you talking about?”

“After everything that happened with Doyle-”

Your eyes bulge, “You think I'm still upset about that? God, do you think I’m a monster? You survived. You lived. That’s all that matters.” 

Tears pool in her eyes, but she blinks them away, her gaze shifting to the wall as her fingers pick at a hangnail. She looks back at you, still picking, gaze more open and lost than you’ve seen in a long time. “Then why? I hurt you. I can see it in the way you can barely stand to be around me, like it hurts you to even be in my presence.” 

You blow out a breath, eyes moving around the room before they land back on her and then away again. “It’s not your fault.” You breathe, emotions lodged in your throat and heart beating wildly against your chest as you try and force the words out. “You didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself. There was never going to be a life I led that you weren’t right with me, you know?” You laugh, wet and broken. 

Emily’s mouth falls open, her eyes emotional pits that you don’t dare hold. 

“And then you left for London and I couldn’t exactly be upset because I had no say in what you did with your life. We were just friends. I knew it’s what you needed and I don’t resent you for that. I just…” You take a breath, “I was so angry at myself for missing you, for thinking that I could be someone you would stay for.”

And there it was. The truth. Because at the end of the day, you’ve always just wanted to be enough for the woman in front of you. For her to see you as more than just your friend. To one day have your feelings returned. 

She’d left and you’d both been busy and you’d deliberately tried to separate yourself as well, drawing back from the painful reminder that you weren’t enough. And since her return, all those emotions have been resurfacing, however much you tried to keep them buried. Because falling out of love with Emily Prentiss was just not something you were capable of, and you’ve spent years trying too. 

Emily approaches you, the space between you closing ever so slightly. Your gaze sticks to the ground, scared to see the easy to read emotions across her face. She takes a breath, the sound muffled by the beating of your heart.

“After I came back from Paris, I used to find myself looking at you and knowing I couldn’t be that woman you remembered, the one you sought for. I wanted to. Desperately.” Her voice hitches, and then lowers to a hoarse whisper, “I wanted to be the woman you fell for.” 

Your eyes finally rise, against your will. Tears make their way in delicate paths down her cheeks, she looks every bit as lost as you feel. The only thing stopping you from falling apart is the fear that if you let go you may never recover. 

“I didn’t need you to be anyone. I just wanted you to be yourself. I wanted you to trust me.” You respond gently.

She shakes her head, “No, everyone was looking for that version of me that I couldn’t grasp onto.”

“Emily,” You sigh painfully. Her face crumples, eyes squeezing shut at the sound of her name from your lips. It’s been so long, you know. “You were healing from a trauma. I’ve always wanted the authentic you, whatever that includes. Why would that suddenly change?” 

She nods, a deep frown on her face as she accepts your words. Then a wet laugh, as she wipes away her tears. “I’ve missed you. Every day. I hate being in the same room as you and it being awkward. I used to be able to look at you and know what you’re thinking. I want that back.” 

A small smile curves your lips, “Me too, more than anything.” 

“Yeah?” She questions. Her teeth run across her lip, as she dares to hope. “You think we could get back there?” 

Your heart hammers. “I just need you to be really clear here. What exactly are we getting back to?” 

She steps forward, finally close enough to touch. Her hand hesitantly reaches out and touches yours, her cold fingers intertwining with your warm ones. Your body remembers her touch, relaxes and leans into it automatically. You eat it hungrily, tracking the movement before your eyes rise to meet hers and find soft, open eyes watching you. “I want to make you fall in love with me again.”

Your breath catches in your throat, tears pooling in your eyes as your hand shakes in hers.

“And this time, I promise, I’ll be there to catch you.” 

“We might have a slight problem with that plan.” You laugh, trying your hardest not to sob.

She frowns, nose wrinkling in the way you adore. “What’s that?” 

“It’s pretty difficult to re-fall in love when I never stopped loving you in the first place.” You huff, and Emily laughs, rich and free and bright. Her face joyful and happy, and with the wide bright smile you’ve waited months to feel pointed in your direction. God the sight makes your head spin.

“Is that so?” She asks, hand moving up to cup your cheek, eyes full of love and pointed at you. 

You can only nod, dizzy from her attention and the emotions coursing through your body. 

When her lips find yours it feels like finally coming home. Soft and delicate, both too scared to push too hard, exploring slowing even as her hand holds your cheek and yours fists in her shirt. You’ve waited years for this, and if you get more of these than it will be worth it. Everything is worth it for the feeling of Emily in your arms. 

When she pulls away, it’s too soon. You follow her mouth and she concedes and gives you a couple more slow kisses before she stops herself, resting her forehead against yours.

“I just want to say sorry for earlier.” She whispers into the safe space you’ve built. “You were right, I was scared when you got hurt. Dave’s already kicked my ass for my response, you won’t receive any disciplinary action.”

You nod slightly, her forehead moving against yours, “Thank you.” 

“It won’t happen again.” She promises, sealing the words with a kiss to your lips. 

“I know.” You kiss her again, but this time you break out into a yawn midway through. Your momentarily forgotten exhaustion, making itself known. 

She melts against you, caressing your cheek. “Oh, you need to sleep. We can talk more tomorrow. I’m taking you out for dinner.” 

You bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to take over your face, “A date?” 

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Yes, a date. But only if you sleep first.” 

“Your wish is my command.” You can’t stop the grin from taking over your face anymore. You press a peck to her lips and lead her back towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow.” She agrees, eyes fluttering over your face as if she’s committing every aspect to memory. “Sleep well.” 

“You too.” 

She presses one last kiss to your lips before she opens the door and makes her exit. You close the door quietly behind her, sinking back into it and allowing the giggle to finally escape your mouth.

What the fuck had just happened. 

Emily Prentiss kissed you. 

Emily Prentiss has feelings for you. 

You weren’t alone.

You bite your lip and push off the door, finally ready to get ready for bed and praying come morning that this would still be your reality.

taglist: @aburman03

[venusbyline]

Whore ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 21, oct.

(late post) ♡ part 1

— pairing: Spencer Reid x girlfriend!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: edging play

— summary: You are tired of Spencer's brat behavior and decide to give him a taste of his own medicine. After all, despite everything, he will always be your little whore at the end of the day.

— word count: 2.2k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 21st day, female!reader, boyfriend!Reid, edging play, orgasm denial, degradation, praise kink, drunk sex, reader is a member of the BAU, argument, handjob, jealously, cock worship, body worship, slapping, punishment, crying, dacryphilia, semi-public sex, teasing, implied/referenced cheating (BUT NO REALLY), drunken flirting, relationship issues, trust issues, BAU Team mentioned, minor JJ x Prentiss, minor Reid x JJ (BUT NO REALLY), lesbian!JJ mentioned, brat!Reid, brat tamer!reader, light sadism, light hurt/comfort, masochist!Reid, sub!Reid, dom!reader, long hair!Reid/Jesus!Reid. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

Going to a pub with the rest of the BAU team had been a bad decision. A decision that Spencer made by impulse, always enjoying making you jealous when he was a little bored. He had promised that night you two could finally finish watching the new TV show released on Netflix, but instead he convinced you to go with him to drink with your friends.

Despite the slight disappointment of having to change your schedule for the night, you did not mind too much. You loved having fun with the team and you were almost sure Spencer had learned his lesson after the last punishment when you sat on his face for hours, riding him and using his lips to reach your orgasm, as if he was nothing but your favorite sex toy. And indeed he really was and loved to be that for you.

However, Spencer was also a spoiled little whore. Accepting Morgan's invitation to go with the BAU friends to the pub was supposed to be a true fun time. If he had not fucked up everything by flirting with JJ, you really could have had fun with all of them instead of spending every fifteen minutes drinking a new glass of wine. He wanted to get a reaction out of you, something that would make you mad at him again and making him receive the best orgasm of his whole life, as always happened.

At first, you tried to ignore it. JJ distanced herself from him, also not really liking his not-so-innocent flirting. She did not want you to think she was actually interested about your boyfriend. JJ was the type of woman who was more interested especially about Emily, but also about Garcia and even you sometimes. Reid was not even interested in his friend too, it was all only to tease you. But it was still uncomfortable and no one of the group wanted to be in the middle of the possible argument that would ensue if Spencer continued acting with that childish behavior.

When JJ began to ignore the flirting, Spencer sighed with frustration, drinking his whiskey and looking around the establishment. He saw a beautiful curvy woman sitting alone, also drinking the same whiskey. Noticing his gaze, she smirked, fiddling with her long blonde hair before waving at the shy Spencer.

Morgan's attention immediately went to Spencer, noticing how he giggled at the woman's invitation and handed the promise ring to Morgan, who put it inside his jeans pocket before snorting. "Fuck. That's enough, Pretty Boy. You're really crossing the line now."

Morgan knew about Reid's way of attracting your dominant side. He did not think it was all bad, but he also knew that sometimes his friend crossed some limits. And this was something much more serious than the last few situations. "It's just harmless flirting, dude. You know I love my darling more than anything and anyone in this whole world." Spencer defended himself, really annoyed that Morgan thought he was thinking about cheating the woman who had his heart in the palm of her hands.

"Anyway, Reid. This isn't cool, man. You're already making things tense by trying to flirt with JJ in front of everyone. And now you're still gonna do it while your fucking girlfriend's in the bathroom? What kind of gentleman are you?" It was Prentiss's turn to argue, crossing her arms disapprovingly. "It just makes you look like a terrible boyfriend. Actually, it's a real shame for us, for her and for yourself..."

Spencer's eyes widened with shock. He had never seen things this way. He knew he was acting bratty and spoiled, flirting for fun just to get your punishment. Most of the time, Spencer thought you liked the adrenaline rush. However, looking at the real view, he was starting to worry that you were actually hurt by him. Anyone who did not know the two of you well would think he was an cheating man who did not even respect his own girlfriend in public.

"Oh, holy shit..." He sighed in frustration, rubbing his hand over his face, trying to ward off the effects of the alcohol. Spencer looked at each of the older agents, the slight anger in Morgan and Emily faces, the disappointment in Hotch, Garcia and Rossi eyes, and the clear discomfort in JJ's flushed cheeks, which most of the time was the focus of his annoying advances. "Damn, Jen. I sure I'm just-"

Spencer was about to apologize to his friend, but stopped when he heard laughter. A laugh he knew all too well. The entire team looked back, Spencer's face turning pale as he saw a man with an arm around your waist as you two walked to the table. He tried to say anything, anything at all, but all he could think about was how much stronger the man was than him, practically the same height but with a huge difference in muscles, his large hand clasped around your waist as if you were a little doll.

"Guys, this is Nicholas. Or Nick. As I prefer to call him. We met at a coffee shop a few days ago. Nick, these are my teammates at the BAU." You smiled, hands on his strong arm that was bursting out of his white shirt.

"Hey..." The man said with an attempt at a friendly smile, but he did not quite manage it. Spencer was profiling him too well to know that Nicholas was trying his best not to let his arousal show through the shorts he wore, due to your warm hand on his skin.

Spencer waited for you to introduce himself as your boyfriend, to tell the stupid boy that you were his girl. However, the brief look you gave his empty finger was enough to let him know you were nor going to do that. Spencer internally cursed himself for taking off the damn ring and giving it to Morgan. That stupid plan to flirt with the blonde girl in the other part of the pub had already evaporated from his mind, but the consequences were just coming.

After some more time of small talk, Nicholas finally left, saying he needed to get back to the house because he had to study for a casting audition the next morning. The agents said goodbye to him with friendly waves, while Spencer continued with that angry stare, his bad mood only getting worse when Nicholas gave you a brief grab on your ass and a soft kiss on your cheek, humming something like "See you another day, princess" and coming out as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

The atmosphere became tenser after the same moment that the pub bell rang to announce Nicholas's departure. "Well, I guess my girlfriend's nothing but a fucking greedy whore..." Before anyone could argue, you grabbed Spencer's arm without any usual tenderness. Morgan even tried to get up to help both of you resolve the situation, afraid that it would escalate into a violent argument. Even though he trusted his best friends, the thought of a stubborn couple fighting after drinking so much whiskey and wine made him apprehensive, but Hotch motioned for him to remain seated, indicating that the argument was none of their business. The entire team knew Spencer and you well enough to know what would happen in the pub bathroom.

"You really think you've any right to call me a whore?" You growled, your hand unbuttoning the khakis that Reid was wearing, listening to him whimper and try to cover the damp spot on his white boxers. He wanted to keep arguing. He wanted to stay angry as hell after your intentional flirt with that idiot playboy. Spencer really doubted that Nicholas was as smart as he was. Or that Nicholas had as many bachelor's degrees and doctorates as he had. "You think you've the right to call me a fucking greedy whore, when you're the one who's always teasing me, hitting on all the women just to piss me off?"

Your fist closed around his cock, already turned on and sensitive just from the tension of the fight. Spencer tried. He really tried hard to take control. But that had been impossible after you dragged him through the halls while he was calling Nicholas a "stupid actor" and saying you were a cockslut desperate for male attention. Anyway, the wiser reaction was being pushing him against the wall of the women's bathroom — fortunately empty thanks to the few people in the establishment.

"And you are, darling. You're a little whore..." Spencer growled, closing his eyes so he would not watch how your hand moved so quickly on his cock, pinky and needy of your touch, already dripping and proving that he was your little whore, and not the other way around.

"Oh, am I?" You increased the speed, the natural lubrication that dripped from his glans not being enough to stop the slight stinging that came with the friction. It was like rubbing himself raw, and yet Spencer moaned, rolling over his eyes with the ache, whimpering for more. “You look like a noisy slut.” You spat on his cock to ease the pain he was enjoying. On the one hand it was good, as the burning subsided and your saliva was cold from the wine you drank before the argument. But on the other hand, Spencer pouted at the lack of agony and the way you began to rub him slowly. "You like it when it hurts so bad, don't you?"

Your mockery made Spencer bite his lip and smirk, his cheeks flushed with a look that indicated how much he always enjoyed suffering at your hands. He lifted his hips forward and you watched with a raised eyebrow as he fucked himself inside your hand, his hips starting slowly and enjoying the way you let him use your fist to pleasure himself. You did not even need to move, seeing his slutty smile and head arched back, his jaw line forming such a perfect angle that you had to stop yourself from moaning at the sight.

When Spencer's hip movements started to get faster and more erratic, you huffed and took your hand away from his crotch, the soft sound of his cock hitting back against his own thin stomach mixing with the sound of your boyfriend's whimpers.

"You see now? You're nothing but a brainless brat, Spencer. Can't you even ask me to cum? You always have to make a mess? Can't you do anything right?" You practically yelled and he sobbed, squirming against the wall and ignoring the cold tile pressed against his pretty ass.

"I'm so sorry, darling..." He sobbed again, one hand trying to touch himself and the other running through your hair as a way of wanting to beg you for forgiveness, but without saying that.

"Yeah, you should feel that way."

The sad pout appeared on Spencer's lips again. He should not have called you a whore. He should not have arguing with you for letting Nicholas flirt right in front of him, when he teased you like that all the time too. In fact, Spencer had realized that he should not have extended this kind of teasing for so long. He had crossed boundaries and made your relationship stressful. Spencer knew you were hurt by this now and he could not blame you.

"Darling..." He tried to touch you, but you pulled away, spitting into your palm and wrapping your fingers around his girth for the third time, hearing his eager whine. You knew he was just jealous, actually always feeling insecure and wanting punishments. However, you did not want to hear anything right now. You pulled his shirt up, forcing the fabric over his mouth, which he bit against his will, despite the tears in his eyes. Tears that were both of relief at being touched again and sadness at knowing that you did not even want to hear his apologies.

"Stay like that. Like the jealous and needy little slut you are." You ordered, kneeling on the floor in front of Spencer and staring at the sight. His wide teary eyes, his teeth biting into his shirt, his flushed cheeks and his long hair damp with sweat... And most of all, his skinny body and belly contracting in anticipation, your nimble fingers caressing the reddish head of his cock with a smirk on your face, lightly licking the tip and hearing a muffled whimper escaping from those pretty swollen lips. "I'm gonna tease you for as long as I want. And you can just cum when I tell you to, you understand?"

The sharp slap you gave his thigh made Spencer sob with both pain and pleasure, pulsing in your hand as he nodded with some desperation. He needed this. He needed to cum. He needed to be a good boy for you. Your own little whore.

"That's it, my good boy." Despite your anger, you actually smiled for the first time since the whole damn mess started, pressing a soft kiss to the red mark on his skin where you hit him. And Spencer's cheeks flushed, not just because of the horny, but also because he loved you so much. He would be your good boyfriend again.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[2amriize]

𖹭.ᐟ RIIZE as love tropes ༉‧₊˚.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ friends with benefits You and Shotaro had been friends for a long time, but your relationship changed one night at a party while playing a game with friends, you ended up having to kiss. Both of you were surprised at how much you enjoyed it. Though you met up to talk about it and decided it wouldn’t happen again to avoid ruining your friendship, you couldn’t help but break that agreement. Since then, every time it happened, you promised it would be the last, but you both knew it wouldn’t be.

⭑.ᐟ eunseok . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ brother’s best friend You had known Eunseok for years; in fact, he’d watched you grow up. He had been like a second brother to you. But the way you saw him completely changed as you got older, starting to develop a crush on him. It wasn’t just because you found him attractive but also because of the way he treated you, always trying to make you nervous and winking at you when your brother wasn’t around. You’ll never forget his expression when you stole a kiss in the hallway. From that moment on, you both decided to keep a secret relationship, trying to keep your brother from finding out.

⭑.ᐟ sungchan . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ fake dating When your neighbor Sungchan asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend at a work event, you couldn’t have been more confused. It wasn’t required to bring a date, but Sungchan really just wanted a coworker who kept asking him out (even after he had turned her down multiple times) to stop. It was odd for you to have to act like Sungchan’s girlfriend since you only knew him from running into him in the elevator. You couldn’t help but get nervous whenever he placed a hand on your waist or looked into your eyes with the sweetest gaze you’d ever seen. How was he so good at this? Even though it was a one-time thing, you couldn’t stop thinking about him after he dropped you off at home.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ enemies to lovers He was too perfect to be real; everyone idolized him and wanted to be close to him, but all you could feel was anger and resentment when you saw him. Wonbin felt the same way about you, and everyone knew the tension between you every time you ended up in the same dance class. You both wanted everyone’s eyes on you, so you did everything you could to improve and capture everyone’s attention. While you got along with everyone else in your dance group, neither you nor Wonbin could even look at each other, and if you were in the same conversation, you’d ignore each other entirely. Things got complicated when you were paired up for a couple’s dance; your instructor had assigned the partners, and the entire class fell silent when your names were called. Neither of you imagined that the hatred you felt would change because of this dance.

⭑.ᐟ seunghan . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ soulmates It always felt like fate that you and Seunghan met. From the first time you met, you connected deeply, and somehow, even when your paths drifted apart, you always found your way back to each other. You had so many things in common—practically everything—that talking to him always felt natural and easy, like speaking with someone you’d known all your life. You were friends for a long time until finally, after years without seeing each other, you met again in the same place where you’d first seen each other, and you both accepted that you wanted to be together forever.

⭑.ᐟ sohee . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ friends to lovers For years, you and Sohee had been friends; you had practically grown up together. You’d spent all of your adolescence together, met each other's partners, fought, and even stopped speaking for months. But in the end, you were always there for each other as friends. After spending an entire night catching up, talking about the old days, and updating each other on what was new in your lives, you both realized, after exchanging glances for a few moments, what you had truly felt for each other all those years. Without fully realizing it, you and Sohee had held feelings for each other for a long time, though you’d never accepted it until that day.

⭑.ᐟ anton . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ rich x poor Anton was the son of one of the most important corporations in the world, while you were just a student. Your family had never had much money, so for years, you focused on your studies to secure scholarships and provide a better future for your family. You never expected to meet Anton in an elevator at one of the companies where you were interviewing. He asked to see you again. Things became complicated when Anton’s father found out about your relationship, forbidding him from seeing you again because you were not of the same social class. Even so, Anton would be willing to give up his wealth just to be with you.

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies