#this was short but i just needed to get these out before i slept

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug Like Angel

pt5

Last day on earth

hey guys warning might be ooc cause i am writing this half asleep

"SHOOT- I'M LATE AGAIN!"

You had band practice with the others today

Why are you always late?

You promised them, and you accidentally slept through your alarm. Again.

You forgot Lyla was down for today too, she was focused solely on the anomalies today, so she couldn't wake you up.

Shit.

You scrambled around in your room getting ready for the day.

You put on your clothes and quickly do your hair.

You tried looking for your guitar and forgot you left it downstairs.

You ran downstairs and almost tripped.

You stopped when you saw everyone eating breakfast at the table.

Without you.

It made you less mad that they were together without you, you were used to them being together without you.

It made you sad how you never even realized.

"..You guys have been having breakfast together? Without me?"

They all went silent. You could see the guilty looks on their faces. As soon as Dick opened his mouth to talk, you shut them up.

"Why would you even-" You stopped yourself, you had things to do. "You know what? This is a problem for future y/n."

You grabbed your keys and put it in your bag while you ran around trying to finish getting ready.

"Alfred, I'm gonna be gone till later, I promised my friends I'm gonna be at band practice"

You ran into the bathroom to finish brushing your teeth.

"Also if one of them shows up at the door, please let them in! Hobie's my ride today!" You called out from inside the bathroom

"Alright, young miss." you heard Alfred say from the kitchen.

You did your makeup quickly and put on your shoes.

You grabbed your bag that had your guitar picks inside, along with some essentials like money, a hairbrush, makeup, etc.

You just needed your phone, which you had left in the kitchen.

As soon as you run out of the bathroom and into the dining room you get jumpscared.

"Boo." Hobie jumped, scaring you.

You screamed before play hitting him

Okay, screw you too, spidey-senses!

While you explained to Hobie you were almost done getting ready, you could slightly feel the others glaring at you and Hobie.

it wasn't them trying to figure him out,it was them judging him.

Damian couldn't understand, why were you hanging out with someone like him?! He's too punk and crazy looking, it's so dumb you were excited to hang out with him.

He snapped out of it as soon as he saw you and Hobie about to exit the manor.

He was about to demand to know where you were going, but suddenly as soon as you were about to walk out the door, you felt Hobie pull on the back of the collar of your shirt.

"Hm?" you asked Hobie

"Don't you think you're missing something, Tinkerbell?" Hobie asked, pointing to your back.

"what do you mean? I have everything, I think. I have my lipgloss and everything.." you started rambling to yourself for a bit, checking the mental checklist you had for yourself.

After a few moments, you realize you thought you had your guitar with you!

You did not!

You ran to grab it, everyone looking at you both.

You grabbed your guitar and said bye to everyone.

Jason does not like Hobie.

He didn't even get to introduce himself to your family.

He straight up ignored all of them, besides Alfred, to see you!

He didn't like how excited you were to just be around him.

He didn't like how naturally you guys play fought like siblings.

He didn't like how close you guys seemed.

He didn't like how he walked around like he's been here before.

He didn't like how he had a nickname for you.

He needed to know who this guy was.

But how?

He followed you both to your practice. While dressed in a red hood.

Oops.

He watches as you both get into your car and go to a place to practice music.He sees a tiny 12-year-old girl with short black hair playing electric guitar, like you.

He sees a blonde girl with half her hair of hair shaved off getting her guitar ready while talking a curly haired boy with big doe eyes.

He sees the boy next to her getting his keyboard ready while awkwardly flirting with the girl.

He sees a boy with stupidly luscious hair getting the amps up and ready.

He can see them all getting slightly anxious, he assumes it's because of you being late.

He didn't know its because they could all sense someone watching them.

Finally, you and Hobie walk in and immediately feel the presence.

You text Miguel that you feel a tiny bit anxious and send him your location.

Better safe than sorry!

After an hour or two of playing, you all decide to sit down and take a break.

The feeling someone was watching you was still there, it just died down the slightest bit.

After a while, Pavitr finally spoke up.

"Am I the only one feeling that someone watching us?"

Immediately you all said different variants of yes.

It was so strange, why would anyone watch you guys?

You assumed it was maybe a kid on the street who was listening to your music, but that didn't explain your spidey senses going off.

As soon as you were about to talk about it, all your spidey senses went off, and someone popped up in front of you.

Red Hood, or your brother, Jason Todd.

Immediately everyone got up and gave you knowing glances.

Sure, you never told anyone about your family's identities, but technically everybody in the spiderverse and their moms knew.

Something about you being a mix of two multi-verses.

"Woah! No need to get so defensive!" Red Hood said, putting his hands up.

"why are you here?" you asked, glaring at him dead in the eyes. Well, he was wearing a mask so you looked at him where his eyes were supposed to be.

"Can't someone drop by for a visit? You guys were great, by the way," he said. You weren't sure what he wanted.

At this point, you had Peni hidden behind you. Sure, he wouldn't ever do anything to any kid, but it was a force of habit you had to protect her.

You didn't notice Hobie slowly moving beside you to protect you if anything happened.

"Welp, I just came in to check on regular civilians, nothing wrong with that," he smirked. he knew he was getting under your skin.

"well, it's a good thing we don't need help. Goodbye." you shooed him away like he had done multiple times to you.

He scoffed and left.

You all let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

It was getting late anyway. You should all start packing up and go out someplace to eat.

It was your turn to choose which place to go, and you immediately chose Batburger.

As soon as you all ordered and sat down, you all immediately started talking about why Red Hood popped by.

Your friends all knew about the neglect from everyone, no one understood why they were here.

Why now?

The topics changed throughout everything, from school drama to plans for the future, to plans for future hangouts.

Everything was great, you all grabbed your meals and were eating the mountain of food you guys ordered.

"I'm telling you, the food in my universe is so much better!" Miles argued with you.

"it's so not! It's greasy!" You argued back

"like batburger isn't?" Miles smirked, you both played arguing.

You gasped dramatically. "YOU TAKE THAT BACK!" you play slapped Miles.

"LISTEN DINGBAT I SAID-" Miles rudely pointed his finger in your face.

"GET YOUR FINGER OUT OF MY FACE!" You and Miles started throwing fries at each other's faces, everyone else at the table laughing at how stupid you guys are.

Suddenly, your spidey senses went slightly off. Not enough for you and Miles to notice, but the others stopped laughing.

You didn't understand until you heard a very familiar voice.

"Is there a problem here?" You looked up and saw your other brother, Dick, looking at you guys with his stupid signature smile.

The same smile that made the hairs on your neck stand up.

Immediately you and Miles straightened up. Not in fear, but because you didn't want him to see you enjoying yourself.

"No, Richard."

You see him flinch at the use of his full name and not his nickname. His smile slightly faltered, but not enough for anyone other than you to notice.

"All alright then." he started walking away and you noticed behind him were your other siblings, Tim and Damian.

Shit.

You needed to get out of here.

Gwen immediately noticed you looking slightly panicky and immediately started holding your hand to calm you down.

It worked.

Everyone looked at each other, almost to say "Let's go."

You all left and decided to go to a park to calm down.

You all lay down on the grass in quiet. It was nice.

You don't mind doing anything with them, as long as you are together.

You wish you could stay in this moment forever.

After a while, you and Peni ended up falling asleep.

Noir came and picked up Peni.

Gwen, Miles, and Pavitr had to go home to their respective universes.

Hobie took and carried you home, there's no way he was gonna leave you lying in the middle of Gotham at night.

He made sure to carry everything you had with you into the manor.

Alfred let Hobie in as soon as he saw you being carried by him.

As soon as he got inside, Jason offered to carry you to your room, but Hobie had already started walking toward's it.

"Nah, sorry mate. She's knackered right now and moving her around might make her go mad."

As soon as he got to your room, he dropped you off on your bed took off your shoes and tucked you into bed, kissing you on the forehead, something that he's done to all the spider kids as a form of affection.

As soon as he went downstairs, he started getting questioned by everyone there.

"Who are you?" asked Damian.

"Wouldn't you like to know, weather-boy?" Hobie teased.

"Why is she so attached to you?!" Asked Jason.

"I ain't got a scooby doo," Hobie replied.

Soon, the questions turned into everyone yelling at Hobie for no reason.

You woke up from the commotion.

You went downstairs to see Hobie having a serious face.

That was not a good sign.

You kept walking further until you were on the same floor as everyone else.

"What's going on?" you asked rather meekly.

No one heard, so you spoke louder.

"What's going on?"

Still, no one heard, so you had no choice but to yell.

"WHAT IS GOING ON?!"

Everyone stopped to look at you. Everyone but Hobie was surprised to see you speak that loudly. They weren't used to you using that tone.

Everything was silent and tense for a moment.

"Well? is anyone gonna say anything or are you all gonna act stupid?" You were cranky. You needed a nap.

"We don't want you hanging around those guys anymore." your father, Bruce said.

"I don't care. I still am gonna be with them," you said.

"You don't have a choice," Damian added, agreeing with his father.

"Well nothing is stopping me, I'll still see them," you replied, glaring at Bruce.

"You're under my roof. You can make your own decisions when you aren't living here." Bruce said, rather mad you won't be obident.

"Maybe I don't want to live under your roof..." you muttered, thinking no one would hear.

"What was that?" you heard Dick say, clearly expecting you to crumble and apologize.

"Maybe I don't wanna live under your roof!" you turn to look at Hobie. He looks proud.

"Then leave." you hear Tim say.

"All alright." you start walking to your room to pack your essentials.

Everyone suddenly looks shocked. They weren't expecting that. You felt Hobie put a hand on your shoulder and help you pack. You grab your phone and see you never replied to Miguel's texts where he asked if you're okay.

You reply to him and tell him you're alright. You ask him if you can stay at his apartment because of family problems.

He immediately replies and says yes.

You finish packing up and go downstairs.

You didn't say bye to anyone as you left.

You went to a random abandoned building to use your bracelet to make a portal to Miguel's universe.

Hobie tagged along, to keep you safe.

As soon as he saw Miguel take you inside, he waved bye and went to his universe.

As soon as you got inside, you broke down.

Over how tired you are, over how your family treated you, and how you just wanted a hug.

You fell asleep hugging Miguel that night

hi guys this is kinda bad but like idk i might make a fluffy oneshot of the spiderkids js hanging out cause reader deserves a break idk

tags (please let me know if i missed anyone!): @bath1lda @mariadvorak @coralaura @tsxukikami @hjgdhghoe @coffeeaddictxd @cxcilla @kaitense1 @star-girl-interlud3 @sukaretto-n

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Simon taking care of a child with medical issues when her bio dad is a deadbeat (✿◡‿◡)

I can just imagine Simon would be so good with a little girl who has type 1 diabetes. (There's a little bit of explaining of different medical terms so you're not left hanging) BUT TRUST ME HE WOULD BE SO GOOD FOR THE BOTH OF YOU

You had gotten pregnant with your little girl, Annabeth (Beth for short), a year after being married to Ethan. He seemed ready to be a dad, but once he found out Beth has diabetes, he cares for her less and less. He went to classes with you two, learned how to calculate her bolus (amount of insulin needed at meals) and basal (baseline amount of insulin for the day), but never did them properly. She'd end up with high blood sugars all day, sometimes getting ketones (breakdown of muscle in an attempt to breakdown sugar when there's no insulin) because he wouldn't give her the right amount of insulin. She'd puke and cry from how bad she felt, and he still wouldn't take care of her properly.

It would cause you to have to come home in the middle of work to give her the insulin he wouldn't, or if she got ketones, take her to the ER. You'd constantly get into arguments that would end with him going to the pub, and you crying. He wouldn't change, no matter how many times you explained that she could die from improper inulin dosage.

Other times, he'd give her too much, and her blood sugar would drop so low she could barely drink her juice. He'd call you, saying she's barely able to move, she's sweaty and the color from her face is drained, that she's crying, and he doesn't fucking know what to do.

The divorce ended with you having full custody, you allowing small visitations that are supervised. You can't trust he will take care of her how she needs.

NOW

When you start dating Simon, you explain to him why you got divorced, and how important your baby's health is. Even more so that she's so fragile. He assures you he's nothing like your ex-husband and would go strictly by your instruction if you allow him to be a part of her life.

The first few times he was around Beth, he payed close attention to how you took care of her. One time, at the park, Beth played a bit too hard, and her blood sugar dropped. You had 2 juices with you, but she went through those so fast. Once her blood sugar went back up, she played too hard again. Without telling you, he had already brought a few juices in his car. That was the first time he took care of her.

The second time was then you had asked him to pick up her prescriptions from the pharmacy. He waited for her insulin, but they only gave one vial. He explained to them that she uses two a month and that she needs the other one. They said that was all that was ready, so he waited 2 hours until the other one was ready.

What made up your mind was when you were called into work under an emergency, and you had no one to take care of Beth. You hadn't slept well the night before so when Simon offered to watch her, you hadn't thought to explain her dosage formula to him. It wasn't until the end of your shift that you realized and sped home (definitely going over the speed limit). Rushing through the door, you were greeted with the sight of Beth laying on Simon's chest, sound asleep. How was she not sick from no insulin?

"You told me her basal, so I gave her tha'"

oh

"What about the food she ate? Did she eat? What insulin did you give her?" You asked, extremely confused.

"I looked up no carb to low carb foods so I wouldn't have to worry about tha'. She had a cheese stick with some almonds and a lil bit of mashed blueberries with cinnamon mixed in, wasn't very hungry though so she didn't really finish it" he says softly, petting her hair, "told you I'd take care of her, mama"

oh

He really wasn't like her dad.

So, it wasn't really unreasonable when after she was put to bed, you pushed him to your bedroom and took care of him too.

(All of the information in this is coming from me, a type 1 diabetic. Everyone's diabetes is a little different, so this is based off of how mine affects me)

[avastrasposts]

The Blind Date

Plot: Your friend Benny sets you up on a blind date with his friend.

Frankie Morales x female reader

Warnings: None what so ever, it's all fluff

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: Someone said imagine going on a blind date with Frankie, and I did! Just a little Sunday snack to serve as distraction from everything else.

“So, I’ve got this friend…” Benny snatched a beer from the fridge and handed it to you before grabbing one for himself, “and he’s single…” 

“No, no blind dates, Benny, please!” you protested as you stirred the sizzling garlic, “I’ve been on your street all but five minutes, and you want to set me up? I need to find a new favorite coffee place and a new hairdresser before I can even start thinking about dating again.” 

“It’s been like two months since you moved here, and you should only get your coffee from Beany’s on Maple. And this guy, I’ve been saving him for you…” Benny wiggled his eyebrows up and down as you shook your head, “I’ve got plenty of other female single friends asking for his number, but I’ve said no, I was saving him for someone special.” 

“More like, you’ve slept with all your other female single friends, and you’re not about to hand him sloppy seconds,” you scoffed, “I know you, Benjamin Miller, you were a slut before you settled down.” 

“Ok, we’re not discussing my former dating life here, but rather the lack of yours,” Benny retorted, pointing the neck of his beer bottle at you, “And I’ve already given him your number, so you can expect a call from a certain Francisco Morales any day now.” 

“Is this the guy you call ‘Fish’?” you asked. Over the years you’ve heard a lot about ‘Fish’, ‘Pope’ and ‘Redfly’ from Benny. Mostly he told you about his brother Will though, ‘Ironhead’ to the rest of them. 

“Yeah, that’s the one. And you should give him a chance, go out on one date at least, I know you guys will get along because you both enjoy ribbing me any chance you get,” he chuckled as you nodded along. 

“Well, in that case, I like him already.” 

Francisco Morales didn’t call you the next day, he texted, which put him back in the negatives in your book. But you’d promised Benny to go on one date with this guy, so you accepted when he asked if you’d like to meet him for dinner at a local tapas place. Now you were walking into that place, hoping the evening wouldn’t be a total bust. You’d made plans with your best friend from back home to call you in thirty minutes to give you an out if the evening went sideways. Enough time for some olives and a glass of wine and then decide if this friend of Benny’s was worth a Saturday night. 

“Oh, you’re in luck!” the hostess exclaimed as you gave her Francisco’s name, “He managed to book one of our best tables, and with the weather this nice, it’s perfect. Just follow me!”

The hostess escorted you through the restaurant and out to the patio in the back, your opinion of your blind date going up as you saw the space. It was a small patio overlooking the river and surrounded by lush greenery and tropical flowers.  A large tree strung with fairy lights illuminated a few tables, the breeze making them move and twinkle.

The hostess took you to a table at the edge of the patio, sheltered from the rest of the restaurant by the trunk of the tree and with a view of the river below. The man that was already seated stood up as you approached. 

“Here you go, miss, your server will be with you shortly,” the hostess said and slipped away as you held out your hand to the man. 

“Hi, you must be Francisco.”

“Hi, yeah, I am, but it’s usually Frankie, or Frank,” he replied, taking your hand with a shy smile, “Or maybe ‘Fish’, since you’re Benny’s friend.” 

He pulled out your chair for you, and you sat down, taking a moment to look him up and down as he moved to his own chair. He was almost as tall as Benny, and almost as wide, but there was definitely more softness to him. Both in his face, his chin covered in a short trimmed patchy beard, and in the way he moved. When Benny had a confident swagger that bordered on the obnoxious if you didn’t know him, Francisco, ‘Frankie’ you corrected yourself, had a softer brand of confidence, one that was less obvious and gave him an air of shyness that came through as he sat down and glanced over at you. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard of ‘Fish’,” you smiled, “but he introduced you as Francisco when he set me up for this.” 

“Please, don’t believe half the stories,” Frankie returned your smile, dimples appearing in his cheeks, just as the server approached. 

Once drinks and food had arrived, the rest of the evening flowed easily. Frankie wasn’t as shy as he first came across, making you almost cry with laughter as he told you stories of some of the things he and Benny had gotten up to while deployed together. You repaid him by sharing some of your favorite ‘The Miller boys get into trouble’ stories from your time growing up. Frankie told you he’d file them away for careful future use while you were silently thanking Benny for setting you up with this man, he’d been right when he said you’d get along. 

Frankie offered to drive you home, apologizing for the state of his old truck as he tossed a child’s toy in the booster seat in the back. Over dinner he’d told you about his four year old daughter, confessing that it made dating complicated, but that therapy had made him realize that he needed to prioritize himself too, if he was going to be a better dad to her. The sentiment had almost made you tear up, something in the way Frankie’s face softened when he talked about his daughter. 

The truck was old but cozy, rumbling to life as the radio came on to a typical ‘dad’ station with old rock. Frankie left the windows down as he drove through the almost empty streets across town. One hand on the steering wheel, the other resting either on the stick, or on the bench seat, close enough to your leg so that his pinky brushed against the fabric of your dress. You wanted to take his hand and lace your fingers through his, feel the warmth on your skin as he hummed along to Eddie Vedder. 

The drive wasn’t long enough, you wish you lived further away, but it turned out you lived only a mile from his house. He pulled up to your place in the middle of an argument about Nirvana and Guns n’ Roses. Frankie’s eyes were bulging out of his head as you refused to admit that Appetite for Destruction was a better album than Nevermind, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he began to laugh when you stuck your tongue out to him like a petulant five year old. 

“My daughter pulls the exact move when she runs out of excuses for why she shouldn’t be going to bed,” he chuckled as the truck went silent, “Just admit it, you’re wrong and I win.” 

“Never!” you declared dramatically and began to laugh too, thumping Frankie’s shoulder as he mimicked you with a cheeky grin. You didn’t want this date to end, you couldn’t remember the last time someone made you feel this good by just hanging out with them. Frankie made you laugh, asked about your life, shared details of his own. And when he touched upon more serious subjects, the death of Redfly, his divorce, he made you want to reach out and comfort him, to soothe some of the pain that flashed across his face. 

“I had a great time,” you admitted, as Frankie walked you to the door, “I’ll never hear the end of it from Benny.” 

Frankie smiled and nodded, “Same, I had a great time too, and I know Ben’s gonna be obnoxious about it. But I’d love to see you again, it’ll be worth putting up with his smug face for that.” 

“I’d like that,” you replied, stopping as you came to your front door, “Give me a call?” 

“You can count on it,” he answered, dropping his hand that had been resting on the small of your back. He suddenly glanced down at his shoes and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, before he looked up at you again. 

“Can I…kiss you goodnight?” he asked, his voice low and warm. There was a smile there, like he knew you wouldn’t say no, not after the evening you’d just shared. 

“Yes, please,” you replied, resisting the urge to look at his mouth, lacing your fingers through his as he moved closer, his breath ghosting over your lips. 

The warmth of his palm on your cheek was easy, natural, and then his lips found yours in a heartbeat. Heat flooded your body, your free hand finding his shoulder and holding on to the solid body under his shirt. Frankie let slip a low hum, deepening the kiss as you parted your lips to his tongue. He let go of your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist instead, pulling you closer as you took hold of his shirt, bunching it up in your fist, heart pounding in your chest. 

It was over far too soon, leaving you both slightly breathless and glass eyed as Frankie loosened his hold around your waist, but still kept you close. 

“Are you free tomorrow night?” he mumbled, his eyes still on your mouth. 

“Yes,” you replied, transfixed by the way his plump bottom lip looked after being kissed, rosy and slick. You reached up and slid your thumb across it, making Frankie briefly close his eyes. They were a shade darker when he opened them again. 

“Frankie,” you asked, “do you have plans for tomorrow morning?” 

He took a couple of beats to answer, his eyes narrowing with a slight smile. 

“No, I have no plans for tomorrow morning,” he finally replied and you tore your gaze from his mouth to look into his eyes.  

“Do you want to have breakfast with me?” 

“I would love to have breakfast with you,” he mumbled as you fumbled for your keys, pushing the door open. His lips were on yours again before you’d even grabbed him, pulling him over the threshold. 

Across the street, Benny grinned and got up from his porch swing. 

Endless thanks to @i-own-loki for the lovely banner as always! Despite broken wifi and too much snow! :D

[bvrnesher]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄

cw: none.

ㅤ୨ৎㅤ🌙ㅤ˳ 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏 ! 𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒎. 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

﹙𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆! ﹚ꪆ

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗛𝗔𝗗 𝗡𝗢 𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗔 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 the future had in store when you said yes to that son of Ares.

You were relatively lucky. Everyone liked charismatic people—you figured that out the moment you arrived at camp.

I mean, you were beautiful, kind, and… well, everything a daughter of Aphrodite was supposed to be.

Some people thought that made you shallow, but that was subjective. The thing was, good or bad, people were always watching you.

And you liked the attention, sure, but sometimes it was too much. Lately, your ex—an idiot son of Ares—decided it’d be a great idea to tell every camper at a bonfire party in the woods that you’d slept with him.

People said you were lucky. Lucky to be a daughter of Aphrodite, ridiculously gorgeous and popular, but… well, you felt more like you’d been used.

And you meant that. You found out that every single guy who had sworn to love you for a lifetime had a pretty short concept of what that meant—and not just because they were demigods.

Everything had a limit, including you. So it wasn’t a surprise when, a week later, you ended up crying on a forgotten dock, way out at the furthest edge of the camp’s beach.

The waves crashed against the rocks while the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a sunset that, under any other circumstance, you would’ve considered beautiful—if only your eyes weren’t drowning in tears just as salty as the ocean.

You cursed under your breath when you heard the wooden planks of the dock creak under unfamiliar footsteps. Pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes, you tried to force the tears to stop.

You didn’t turn around as you wiped your face. Not until you heard a voice you recognized anywhere.

A voice belonging to a very specific idiot.

"Hey, you okay?"

Percy’s voice came from behind you, sounding ridiculously concerned compared to his usual habit of messing with you over… well, everything.

Seriously. Why now?

"Yeah," you answered on instinct, steady but quieter than usual.

Percy wasn’t that much of an idiot.

"Do you need something, or can you leave already?" The words came out harsher than you meant, but you couldn’t help it.

He frowned at your tone but hesitated before responding.

"No." His voice lacked the usual teasing edge. No witty comeback, no sarcasm—just that. "I don’t want to."

You let out an exasperated sigh, keeping your gaze fixed on the ocean, not even daring to look at him.

"Jackson, seriously, I’m not in the mood for your—"

"I’m not an idiot," he cut in, though even he didn’t sound entirely convinced. "I asked if you were okay." His voice was softer this time, surprisingly gentle coming from him.

For a second, he considered just walking away, letting you be miserable in peace. He had enough problems of his own—he didn’t need to get involved in yours.

And yet, he found himself stepping closer, slow, hesitant.

"You look like a mess," he said, sitting next to you on the dock, his feet dangling off the edge, dipping into the salty water below.

"How sweet," you muttered, turning away from him, clearing your throat as you started playing with the hem of your dress.

Percy winced at his own words. He sucked at this. He wasn’t exactly good with comforting people.

"I mean… you… uh… You look beautiful, but I just—" He stopped, realizing his slip but not bothering to correct himself. "I mean, you don’t exactly look happy." He shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh, really? You think?” you didn’t meant sound like a jerk. He wasn’t being one. But old habits died hard.

Percy rolled his eyes.

“Look at me,” he said.

“No.” you refused, keeping your gaze locked on the waves.

Percy mumbled some curse in Ancient Greek. He could leave. He knew he should. But something kept him there. Impulse won over logic—again. Percy reached out, tilting your chin up between his fingers, forcing you to face him.

He frowned the second he saw your slightly red, tear-streaked eyes.

“This is ‘fine’ to you?”

You swallowed, caught off guard by the sudden touch, and felt heat rise to your face. You nodded and tried to pull away, but he held on just a little longer, keeping your eyes on his.

“We seriously need to work on your definition of ‘fine,’” he muttered.

His voice had softened.

Silence.

"You have a terrible definition of ‘okay.’"

He tilted his head, letting go of your chin only to wipe away a stray tear with his thumb.

And, as always, he didn’t think twice about it. And you? You almost died right there.

"Thanks," you murmured, your shoulders relaxing ever so slightly—something that never happened around him.

"Who did this to you?" he asked. His voice was relatively calm, but there was something else in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite place. Was it… protectiveness?

"No o—"

"Was it that idiot son of Ares?" he cut in before you could finish. "Figures. It’s always them. Just as dumb as their dad."

"Percy!" you gasped, but a laugh escaped before you could stop it.

"What? It’s not a lie," he said, meeting your gaze head-on.

His eyes. The kind you could drown in and wake up in Elysium. Not that you’d ever tell him that.

You smiled. He smiled back. And, of course, an idea popped into his head—just like always.

"Come on, get up." He stood, offering you his hand. "I can’t dance, but I’ve been told I’m hilarious when I try. Want to confirm that for me?"

The grin he gave you wasn’t one he usually directed at you. His eyes gleamed with that signature mischief of his.

You hesitated before taking his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. Looking up, you found him already watching you. For the past two years, he’d had a solid height advantage over you—not that you’d ever admit it bothered you.

"On a half-rotten dock, at the beach, with no music?" You raised a brow, almost amused. "And without knowing how to dance? I knew making a fool of yourself was your thing, but this is a new level."

He scoffed.

"I learned it from you."

"Yeah, right," you shot back. "You do it so naturally, I thought you were born with it."

Before you could react, his hand was at your waist, pulling you closer in one quick movement.

Your hands landed against his chest from the suddenness of it, but he barely reacted. Instead, he took one of your hands in his, intertwining your fingers.

"I’ve seen you dance," he murmured, his voice lower, softer. He leaned in, lips close to your ear. "Teach me." The warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard.

"Put your hands like this," you murmured, adjusting the hand he had on your waist with your free one—bringing the two of you even closer.

You rested your head against his chest, and Percy felt his heart stumble. He exhaled, dropping his chin to the top of your head and closing his eyes, letting himself be guided by your steps.

You arched a brow at him. "You said you saw me dance before. When was that, Jackson?"

He shrugged, his movements awkward as he tried to follow your lead in what could barely be called a dance. "Once, in the Aphrodite cabin. One of your sisters was teaching you, I think. You weren’t terrible."

You scoffed, but the warmth creeping up your cheeks betrayed you. "So, you spy. How flattering."

"It’s not spying if it’s not intentional," he shot back, rolling his eyes, though the smirk never left his face.

His hands remained where they were—one on your waist, the other holding yours—as he led you in graceless, offbeat turns. You were pretty sure any child of Apollo watching would throw themselves into the sea from secondhand embarrassment. But Percy was right about one thing: he managed to make you laugh.

"Gods, you are awful at this," you wheezed between laughs, nearly tripping over his feet.

"I know," he said, all mock pride. "But at least you’re not crying anymore."

You froze. The laughter died on your lips, but the warmth in your chest did not. Percy stilled too, still holding your hand.

His eyes—those damn eyes—softened. And right then, with the salty breeze in the air and the waves crashing in the background, you knew you were screwed.

Percy Jackson had just made you forget your pain with nothing but a smile. Gods, what the hell was wrong with you? You didn’t even like Percy.

After a while, he started to catch the rhythm, the stumbles growing fewer.

"Like this?" he asked, voice quieter.

"Just like that," you answered.

A week later, the son of Ares woke up in the infirmary with no particular desire to go near water ever again.

ꪆৎ. Hope you guys liked it !

[daydreamabout]

Old Flames, New Patrols (Tim Bradford Imagine x exwife!reader)

Summary: When the precinct runs short on officers, you're transferred to fill the gap. Now, you're back on patrol with your ex-husband, Tim—as you realize how much of your confidence was tied to him, even after all this time. [mentions of domestic disturbance]

It’s your first day back at the precinct after the transfer. The air feels thick as you walk into the building, the smell of stale coffee and the sharp scent of bleach from the cleaning supplies hitting your senses. You’ve been away for two years, but it still looks the same—gray walls, buzzing lights, officers milling around, deep in conversation or focused on their desks.

You make your way toward the briefing room, your footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. Each step feels heavier, the tension in the air creeping up your spine. You haven't seen Tim since the divorce, and the thought of being in the same space with him again, working side by side for three months, is... unsettling.

You push the door open and step inside. The room goes quiet for a moment, eyes flicking toward you. Most of the officers don’t know who you are—just that you're the one here to help out. Your eyes immediately search for the familiar face you used to wake up to every day. There’s Tim, standing by the windows, arms crossed over his chest. He looks exactly the same. Maybe a little more worn down, but it’s him. His eyes meet yours for a fraction of a second, but he quickly looks away. You can’t tell if it’s relief or discomfort on his face.

Sargeant Grey is at the front, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. He clears his throat, and the chatter dies down. You take your seat at the back of the room, feeling all the eyes on you now. Tim doesn’t acknowledge you further, though you can sense him there, just within reach. It's almost suffocating.

"Alright, listen up," Grey’s gravelly voice cuts through the tension in the room. "We’re short-handed today, so we need to make it count. Y/N, welcome back. You’re only here for three months, so let’s make this time worth it. We need all hands on deck. Get familiar with the new assignments, hit the ground running. You’re in with Tim for your shift today. I trust you two can handle it."

You don’t miss the way Tim’s jaw tightens at the mention of your name. He doesn’t look at you, but his body posture shifts, a barely noticeable tension seeping through his rigid stance. Sargeant Grey gives a brief rundown of the cases that need immediate attention, but your mind keeps drifting back to your ex.

It’s strange. Working together again feels... weird. Your whole relationship feels like a lifetime ago, but the remnants of it are still there, sitting between you both. You’ve built your life, your career, apart, but here you are—back together in the same room. The silence between you both says everything that words can’t. He’s still the same —strong, sharp, focused. But there's a distance there now, a wall between you that wasn’t there before.

Grey finishes up with the details. "Any questions? No? Good. Get out there and stay safe."

The briefing wraps up, and officers start filing out, but you linger, just for a second. You grab your bag and head out to the garage where the cars are parked. Tim's footsteps follow behind you, the sound too familiar. You can feel him closing the space between you but neither of you says anything. He grabs his keys, but you don’t meet his gaze. Instead, you focus on the cruiser parked in front of you, doing your best to ignore the sharp pang in your chest.

“Ready?” Tim’s voice is low, controlled. He doesn’t wait for a response, just opens the door and slides in.

You hesitate for a moment, taking in the sight of the passenger seat you once called your own. The silence stretches out, thick and suffocating. Finally, you slip into the seat next to him, and the moment your seatbelt clicks, you feel the tension in the car increase. Neither of you says a word as the engine roars to life.

The drive to your first assignment feels longer than it should. Neither of you speak, both of you caught in that strange limbo of once being partners—both on and off the job—and now, just colleagues, with an unspoken history lingering in every shared glance and every breath you take in the confined space of the cruiser. You’re here to do a job, but underneath it all, it’s so much more than that.

The silence is almost suffocating as the cruiser rolls through the city, its headlights cutting through the darkened streets. You try to focus on the task ahead—on the job—but your thoughts keep drifting. His presence in the car, right next to you, brings back a rush of memories. The good, the bad, and everything in between. You can still picture him in your mind—the way he would always drive with his hand resting on the wheel, his jaw clenched in concentration, his brow furrowed when things got tense. It’s all still there, etched into your memory. But now, it feels like looking at a stranger.

The first call comes through over the radio.

“Domestic disturbance,” Tim says, breaking the silence. His voice is neutral, businesslike. No trace of the warmth that once was between you two. His hands grip the wheel tighter, his knuckles white.

“Right,” you reply, your voice a little more clipped than you intend. You don’t want to sound cold, but you’re finding it hard to slip into the routine of working together like nothing has changed.

You’ve been through hundreds of calls like this, but tonight, the familiar rush of adrenaline feels different. You can’t help but notice how Tim moves through the motions with ease, just like he always did. He’s in his element, despite the tension. He’s a cop, through and through.

He pulls up in front of a small house, the flashing lights of the squad car casting long shadows on the cracked sidewalk. A woman stands on the porch, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes wide and scared.

You both get out, and Tim’s already moving forward, his pace measured, controlled. You follow, but everything feels slow, like you’re wading through water. The distance between you both is tangible, and it’s hard to ignore.

“Ma’am,” he starts, his voice calm, authoritative, but soft enough to not add to the fear in the woman’s eyes. “What’s going on here?”

You stand off to the side, arms crossed over your chest, watching the interaction with practiced eyes. Tim does this so effortlessly—he’s always been the one to take charge in situations like this, his presence reassuring. It makes you realize, once again, how much of your own confidence came from being able to work alongside him.

Flashback

Tim sat next to you in the passenger seat, his presence a force in the small car. You’d learned to appreciate the quiet moments with him, the way he seemed to ground everything in an otherwise chaotic world. The air smelled faintly of stale coffee and something more like... pizza, maybe? But you didn’t ask.

“Do you ever just—” Tim started, his voice cutting through the quiet. “—stop thinking?”

You glanced at him as you maneuvered through the empty streets. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he continued, looking out the window. “You’re always so... together. Even when things are crazy, you handle it like you’ve got everything under control.”

You couldn’t help the dry laugh that escaped you. “It’s called faking it, Tim. You should try it sometime.”

He glanced at you, raising an eyebrow, but the corner of his lips tugged into that small, familiar smirk. “Right. But that doesn’t explain how you make it look so easy.”

Your heart skipped, but you pushed the fluttering feeling aside. Tim wasn’t one for compliments, so when he said things like this, it threw you off a little. You didn’t even know how to respond.

You had learned to keep a cool head, to act calm and confident on the outside, especially with him around. Working alongside wasn’t just about being a good partner. It was about survival. He had a way of making you feel like you could take on anything. And maybe, somewhere in the back of your mind, you’d begun to believe it.

But his question made you realize something. That confidence you projected? It wasn’t just something you’d built from your own experience. No, it was more than that. It came from the way Tim had made you feel when you worked together, the way he trusted you without hesitation, the way he always made sure you knew you were capable, even when you doubted yourself.

You turned your attention back to the road. “It’s... it’s easier when you know you’ve got someone watching your back.”

“Sounds nice,” Tim repeated softly, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he shifted in his seat. “You always seem like you’ve got it handled. Like you don’t need anyone.”

You didn’t look at him this time. “Well, I don’t need anyone to tell me how to do my job.”

There was a pause, and then he asked, almost like he was still testing the waters, “But you’re okay with me being here, right? With me helping out?”

You were taken aback, your fingers tightening on the wheel. It wasn’t a question you expected, not from him. There had always been a kind of unspoken understanding between you two, a connection that didn’t need words. But something in his tone made you realize maybe he was starting to see you differently, maybe even see through the walls you’d put up.

You had never thought about it like that before, but the truth was, you did rely on him. Not just in a professional sense, but in a way that ran deeper than that. It was something you hadn’t admitted to yourself. You didn’t need him to carry the weight of your confidence, but somehow, working alongside him made everything feel a little bit lighter.

“I never said I didn’t need you,” you finally said, the words coming out more vulnerable than you intended. “But I like to keep it... controlled. Keeps things simple.”

Tim didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his gaze on you, searching, like he was seeing something you weren’t saying. His lips parted, but then he just nodded. “I get it.”

The conversation lingered between you for the rest of the drive, quiet and unspoken. But as you pulled up to the precinct and parked, something about the way Tim looked at you felt different. It wasn’t pity or judgment—nothing like that. It was just... understanding.

That understanding continued through the day as you went through your shifts. You weren’t sure when it happened, but you could feel Tim’s eyes on you in a way that wasn’t just professional. It was like he was seeing you for the first time—really seeing you—not just as his partner, but as someone who had built this unshakable front because of everything you had been through. Because of how much you depended on him, and how much you feared depending on anyone at all.

Later that day, when you were taking a break, Tim leaned against the edge of the car, his usual calm demeanor still present, but with something else in his eyes. “Hey,” he said, his tone lighter than before. “If you ever need to talk, you know... I’m here.”

You looked up, surprised by the softness in his voice. It wasn’t the standard "don’t hesitate" cop speak. It was... genuine. Maybe that’s what hit you hardest—how much he had always been there, even in the background. Always steady. Always reliable.

And maybe, just maybe, you realized that the confidence you carried wasn’t just because you were good at your job. It was because you had someone who believed in you, who was there in the trenches with you, whether you showed it or not. Tim had always been your anchor in the chaos and you allowed yourself to see it.

You smiled, a little more honestly than you expected. “I know, Tim. I know.”

You realized how much of your confidence had come from being able to work alongside him—because with Tim Bradford by your side, you didn’t have to fake anything. You could just be you, and that was enough.

Flashback end

You almost catch yourself looking at him, but you quickly look away, focusing back on the woman’s trembling form. She explains in a shaky voice, detailing a fight with her partner, a mix of shouting and pushing, nothing too serious but enough to scare her. It’s routine. No weapons involved, just tempers flaring.

He nods, taking in the information, his expression unreadable. You both move through the process of taking statements, confirming details, and ensuring the situation doesn’t escalate. Tim handles it like he always does—efficient, calm, with just enough authority to keep things from spinning out of control.

After everything is wrapped up and the woman is safely back inside, his head turns to you, his expression guarded but not unkind.

“You good?” he asks, his voice still holding that professional distance.

“Yeah,” you reply, though you’re not sure you are. The tension between you both is like a wire pulled taut, ready to snap at any second. But for now, you push that feeling aside. “Just... like old times.”

“Yeah.” His gaze lingers on you for a moment before he turns away, heading back to the car.

You both fall back into the cruiser without another word, the quiet between you hanging heavy in the air. The drive to the next call feels just as tense, if not more so. It’s hard to focus on the work when everything else feels like it’s shifting beneath your feet. You’re no longer the partners you once were, but here you are, side by side, forced to navigate the job together again.

Another call comes through, and this one’s more serious. A robbery in progress, shots fired. The words slice through the air, and Tim’s reaction is instant. His body tenses, his focus sharpening. He slams the gas, and you feel the jolt of speed as the city blurs around you. The momentary distraction of adrenaline sweeps the tension between you both aside. There’s no time for personal issues, not with this on the line.

“Stay sharp,” Tim says, his voice a low growl, a tone that makes it clear he’s in full cop mode now.

You nod, your body moving on autopilot as the car skids around corners, sirens blaring. Everything else falls away as the job takes over. The past is shoved to the back of your mind, at least for now. It’s just you and him again—partners in the field.

When you arrive at the scene, chaos unfolds before your eyes. Officers are already moving in, securing the area. The suspect is barricaded inside, and you can hear the distant crackle of gunfire. The tension is palpable, but Tim’s instincts take over. He’s the one you always relied on in these situations.

Without hesitation, he starts directing officers, calling the shots. You move with him, side by side, working in sync, though the connection feels distant now.

You both position yourselves at the entrance, ready for whatever happens next. But this time, there’s a stark difference between you and him. A line you both can’t cross, no matter how much you wish you could. The job demands all of you, and right now, that’s all that matters.

“Cover me,” Tim says, his voice steady but with that sharp edge you know all too well. He doesn’t need to say more—you know what he means. You always did.

As he moves toward the building, you stay behind, your hand resting on your holster, eyes scanning the surroundings. The air is thick with danger, and your heart races, not from the nerves of the situation, but because you’re working with him again.

As the situation continues to unfold, you can’t shake the feeling that something is missing—the warmth, the camaraderie, the bond. It’s all there in the motions, in the way you both know what the other is thinking without words. But it's not enough anymore. It never will be. Not after everything that’s happened.

When the dust settles and the situation is handled, you both stand in the aftermath, silently assessing the damage.

“Good work,” Tim says, his voice colder than before. But there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something you can’t quite place.

You nod. “You too.”

As you head back to the cruiser, the weight of the day presses down on you, and you realize just how much you’ve missed this—being out here, in the field, with Tim.

But you also realize that the things you miss aren’t coming back. Not the way you want the-, wait what?

[cheruv-ii]

I'm sleepy which means I'm thinking of cute LuciBen stuff so here are some more domestic lil headcanons n shit. Be warned there will be typos.

-When Lucien gets sleepy he gets clingy and its specifically with Ben. They could be in completely dif rooms but the second the sleepy hits Ben becomes a giant magnet, and suddenly Lucien is pulling him close and shoving his face in his hair while trying not to pass out. If Ben can't come to bed/cuddle at that moment Lucien will become v whiny, laying face down in bed and just constantly asking when his husband will return from the war. When Ben DOES finally cave, he gets YANKED into bed the second he's within arms reach. Ben heavily enjoys all of this.

-Ben adores the fact that despite Lucien's outer "image" of being big and "scary", he is still the dorky sweetheart he met and fell in love with on Isla Nublar, like sure he's grown to be more confident/brave, but at his core he is still a hopeless romantic nerd who gets flustered when his boyfriend kisses him.

-There have been many nights where Lucien has been too sleepy to do his nighttime skincare routine, so Ben learns how to do it so that on those nights he can do it for him

-Lucien loves listening to Ben actually sing, but it's very rare to catch him doing it because he gets flustered easily, so if Lucien hears it he will stop dead in his tracks to listen

-Ben loves playing with/styling Lucien's hair, he grew up doing his cousins' hair a lot so its habit to him, plus Lucien's hair is insanely soft so thats a plus

-If Lucien notices that Ben wants to leave a social situation, he'll literally just pick him up and toss him over his shoulder before leaving

-despite being the big spoon, Lucien also loves sleeping so hes basically on his stomach on top of Ben with his head on his chest, it took a lil bit for Ben to get used to the weight but he does also love it

[spokelseskladden]

Im so mentally ill right now pls hand me my vitamin d pills i need to be fixed, i haven't felt sunlight upon my skin for a week and it's raining over the snow so it's all sloppy and slippery and dark out so i can't go anywhere without getting my feet soaked and my inlaws are asking me what i want for christmas like specifically which means i have to share my interests but i don't want to be perceived right now because I'm feeling the winter paranoia/madness and also i had to take the trashcan out yesterday and faceplanted in the snow and my glasses are all scratched up so i think im going to need new ones and if i want to go ANYWHERE i need to defrost my fucking car on the daily and i hate it. I hate winter i HATE IT. And i have an exam on friday as well as work and a christmas party to attend. I need to move to the forest and become one with nature, just leave society behind and live like Isak in Growth of the soil even though i fucking hate Knut Hansun, that nazi bitch.

[phagodyke]

I feel like my meds keep wearing off earlier and earlier in the day ugh.. having to lie down now im home from work I'm shattered :-(

[floral-hex]

So this is my thing now, I’m afraid to go to sleep. This is kinda bullshit, brain.

[skrunksthatwunk]

playing dmc1 with my earbuds in (but on low volume bc they're being weird) while my roommate and her shitty bf argue. i feel like i'm recreating the very specific experience of some child of divorce out there

[seonghwaddict]

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[sttoru]

for the short drabbleee, toji who realises he's in love mid fuck 😭😭😭

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. toji fushiguro x female reader. smut, pwp. slow but rough, creampies, cowgirl, sneaky links to something more? reader gets called ‘baby, princess, pretty’

“shit baby, look at’cha,” toji sighs as his eyes follow your movements on his cock. you’re hypnotising him with the way you’re bouncing on his thighs, the mixture of cum on his lap making the sounds of your thrusts extremely loud and sloppy.

his big hands rest on your hips and then move up to your waist. toji’s always loved touching your body whenever he could while he has you in his bed. “c’mooon, let me see those pretty eyes.”

you’re moaning at the sound of those praises leaving toji’s lips. he does it subconsciously—telling you how beautiful you look when you take his fat cock. or how gorgeous you are and sound when he’s eating you out.

he brushes the hair out of your face, desperately wanting to admire your beauty. toji doesn’t realise it—everything he says and does comes so naturally to him. he was never like this with the other women he’s slept with before.

“fffmgh, toji,” your noises are what drive him to keep going. toji hates how you have him wrapped around your finger. he’s a sucker for anything you do. and don’t get him started on the amount of times he nearly came into his pants from just the thought of your pretty face underneath him.

perhaps that is what people call love. toji shakes the thought away and focuses on fucking you properly. he grips your hips and lifts them up so he could thrust upwards into you, not wanting to think of such silly things anymore. foolish. there’s no way a man like him can love ever again.

he’s doing this for his own pleasure. not yours.

“toooji, c- can i cum, please? mhh, need’to,”

and yet, here he is, working hard to please you. to hear more of those moans in the shape of his name. to have you come undone in his arms in the most endearing way possible.

your enjoyment is what brings him pleasure. all toji needs is to see your eyes roll back once he sends you over the edge and he’s spilling everything he has inside of you.

toji closes his eyes and tries to drown out the thoughts. he chases after that high, wanting to fill you with his cum for the nth time that night, “not yet, princess. let’s cum together, m’kay?”

those are - once again - words he’s never uttered to any other woman before during sex.

perhaps he is in love. hopelessly in love.

[gojoest]

curiosity (part 2) — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns, childhood best friends to lovers, college, no curse au, once again mention of ex gfs (one of them makes a brief appearance), pining, reader wears boy shorts, reader is a virgin (no virginity loss), so is satoru lol, mutual masturbation (handjobs + fingering), he cums on your belly (accidentally), pussyjob, first kiss, kind of proofread (sry if tenses are messed up), wc: 5.3k, dividers by @/cafekitsune 

this takes place the morning after the handjob you gave satoru and is basically a long ramble about two childhood best friends exploring each other’s bodies (nowhere near in moderation) but finding it difficult to redefine their bond. 

part 1

a/n: i didn’t think i would get around to writing a continuation but here we are... i fear there will be a part 3 as well in the future :’) i hope you enjoy! <3 

Last night Satoru and you slept together, in one bed, for the first time in years. 

Sure, it wasn’t just sleeping like you initially (and very confidently) suggested. Curiosity got the better of you after he, although not intentionally, showed you a side to him you had never seen before. And so, you got a bit handsy. 

Satoru stopped sharing a bed with you during sleepovers sometime early into high school. ‘You always hog the blanket’, ‘You toss and turn a lot’, ‘You breathe too loud’, ‘It’s too hot’... — is what he would say, and you didn’t think much of it. Shrugging it off as him being a rude idiot, trying to make you look bad. 

There was no way he’d actually tell you that he had started popping frequent boners around you, courtesy of puberty along with these unrequited feelings he started harboring for you the day you moved into his neighborhood at the age of four. 

It was embarrassing. He couldn’t possibly come clean to you — you were best friends. What if you came to hate him? What if you started avoiding him? 

He spent his high school years trying to get over you. He started dating around. But he never felt the same way with any of the other girls, a clear sign of which was his actions and the lack of dedication toward them. He’d often forget about promised dates or picking them up after school to walk home together because he was too busy following you around. Helplessly. Hopelessly. He couldn’t just leave you on your own even for a second, the thought of seeing another dude hanging around you would scare the shit out of him. Trying to let go yet strongly clinging to you. You didn’t need to like him back as long as you didn’t like anyone else either. Just stay by his side. 

And now, college isn’t any different. 

Well, it wasn’t. Until last night. 

Satoru couldn’t sleep after what happened while you dozed off quickly, as if the events that took place were nothing out of the ordinary. You seemed oddly comfortable which, truth be told, rose concern in him. 

He had a lot of questions. 

Do you like him? Weren’t you supposed to be at least a bit nervous if you did? Or were you simply so curious about these stuff that anyone would’ve been fine, it just happened to be him? He’s glad it was him. But what will happen with you two now? Will things be awkward? Can you go back to how you used to be? What is he supposed to say to you once you open your eyes? Will you start avoiding him? Should he pretend like nothing happened? 

“Shit, I fucked up”, he whispers, thumbing his forehead like he’s trying to get rid of a headache that isn’t even there. 

Please don’t avoid me, he thinks as his gaze shifts to you, still sleeping soundly. 

You were drooling on the pillow in your sleep. Your hair was a mess and your eyes were crusty, the dried residue sitting in the inner corners of them. The entire blanket was on your side too, covering only you while he was out in the open, his feet cold.  

What’s so good about you anyway?, he thought for a good minute. A soft smile creeping in on his lips. He couldn’t come up with a single thing that wasn't. 

“Mff...”, you let out a drowsy yawn and your eyes flutter open. Rolling on your back, you stretch your arms up and turn your head to look at Satoru. “Mowniiin’ ”, you drag out through another yawn. 

Satoru’s heartrate picks up. Here comes the moment he’s been dreading — facing the consequences. “Hey”, he greets back, a little bit dull in order to mask his nervousness as he acts out in his head all the different possibilities and the plausible end of your friendship. 

“You don’t have a boner again, do you?”, you ask bluntly, unaware of the sweat and blood he’d been shedding in an internal battle up until now, filled with fear that today might be the day he loses it all. 

“Really now?”, he gives you a look. Your crudeness is astounding him but in a way it also lessens the worry in his chest. “You’re really going to ask me that?” 

“...do you?”, you turn on your side again, a glint of amusement in your expression. 

“You know I am. Don’t you see it yourself?”, he clicks his tongue. 

You snicker to yourself. Of course you do. After all, the blanket was wrapped around you only while he laid exposed next to you with no layer to cover the bulge in his shorts. 

“Morning wood?”, you look at it. “Or is it because of me again?” 

“Stop assuming things, it’s morning wood”, he states point-blank. “It’s always like this when I wake up”, which was a lie. It didn’t always happen, or at least it wasn’t this insistent. 

“Hmm”, you nod. “Maybe you’re not cumming enough?” 

“That’s not how it works”, he sighs. “And this is definitely not something I’ve ever expected to hear from you” 

“Hmm”, you nod again. Peeking at him mischievously. “Can I—” 

“No.” 

“But—” 

“Cut it out, will you? What’s gotten into you ever since last night? Asking to touch me and what not?”, he snaps, frustrated.  

“But you let me” 

“Men can’t say no to that when they’re about to bust”, he lies, kind of. “But what the hell is wrong with you?” He thinks it’s so unfair to test him like this when he’s the only one with feelings. It is quite cruel of you. 

“I don’t know”, you shrug, a guilty pout on your mouth. Satoru never raises his voice at you unless something is really bugging him. “I’m not sure myself, but I liked it, what happened last night... I enjoyed it”, you quietly admit. 

“You did?”, his voice goes back to normal, but this time it’s his eyes that snap wide. A slight sense of hope creeps in inside his heart now. Maybe this little slip-up could kick start something, he starts to think. 

You nod. “Didn’t you like it too?” 

“...I did”, his face heats up and he covers it with a hand. The essence of the conversation and the fact you liked touching him made his cock even harder. It wasn’t just a simple morning wood at this point. 

“I want to do it again”, you tell him. “But do you?” 

“You ask me stuff like this when I am horny and expect me to turn you down?” He slowly slides his hand down his face, stopping it right over his mouth and cupping it into his palm. “Are you sure?”, his voice muffled. 

You shake your head affirmatively, with zero hesitation. “Can you touch me too? I got really wet last night while jerking you off... Your struggling face and the sounds you made were really...sexy. I wanted to cum too”, a tint of embarrassment in your tone now that you were saying this out loud. 

Your abrupt and not at all anticipated confession had Satoru almost chocking on his own saliva. Due to shock, it went down the wrong pipe when swallowing, leading him to cough profusely. “I am starting to think that you’re plotting to kill me one of these days” 

“It’s because you told me to come to you if I ever get curious about other things” 

“I clearly did not mean murder” 

You chuckle, and slowly peel the covers off you, throwing them out of the way and kicking them behind you. The shirt you’re wearing rolled up, exposing the boy shorts on your lower half and a damp spot visibly staining them on the front. 

“You're wet", Satoru points out, surprise and smugness mixed in his expression.  

“I thought you didn’t like to state the obvious”, you huff, rushing to fix yourself, but he reaches for your hand and stops you in your tracks.  

“Is it because of me?”, he looks at you with a glint of hope, giving you a taste of your own medicine, while guiding your touch toward his crotch. His other hand pulling his shorts and boxers down, just enough to take his cock out and press your hand on it — feeling less awkward and a little bit more confident about this now that he sees clear indications of your arousal. 

Sure, you touched him last night, but you didn’t see him... It all happened under the covers, so this was a first. He was big, both lengthy and girthy. Veiny too. Precum slicked the tip of his cock. The head was pink while the rest — a lighter shade but still a bit darker than his complexion. You didn’t think of it as pretty, yet it was stirring weird, unknown emotions and desires in you. 

“...yeah, ‘cause of you... I think”, you bury your face in the pillow, shying away, but at the same time you shamelessly wrap your hand around his length, giving it a slow first stroke, causing his breath to rasp in his chest. The needy little pant he let out the second you made contact with him urged you to rub your thighs together, the tension in your lower half growing heavier. 

Now with your roles somehow reversed, you realize how embarrassed he must’ve been last night... 

“Can I?”, he swallows nervously. His hand, slightly shaking, held out in front of your clothed pussy, waiting for your verbal permission before he goes any further.  

“Go ahead, I was the one who asked in the first place”, you reassure. 

Just like he did for you, you help your shorts down for him and place his hand between your folds. “But—”, you pause, timidly flinching at the foreign touch. “Don’t push your fingers very deep, I— well, you know...” 

He smiles. “I know, don’t worry”  

He was aware that you never had your first time. Neither did he, which you would probably never guess. 

Despite his rich and lengthy dating history, Satoru never went that far with any of his girlfriends. Not that the opportunity was never present — he had the looks and he had the charm so naturally they would throw themselves at him quite often. But he simply never desired them enough to even pop a boner. Well, sure it happened a few times here and there and only because some of them resembled you way too much. 

At the end of the day, his dick and his mind were oddly connected. And his mind, it was still stuck on you. Perhaps, deep down, he always hoped that one day you’d be his first. 

Just like last night, you were laid on your sides again, but this time both of you had your hands in each other’s pants. Your faces so close you were touching foreheads and breathing into your mouths. Not kissing, just breathing and exchanging pants and lewd moans as you worked your hands through the pleasure of the other, reveling in the sounds you each made.  

"Is this, um, okay... like this?”, he breathily asks, but what he truly means is ‘Am I doing this right?’, while he’s got his thumb on your clit, rubbing it in circles, and two of his fingers — index and middle — carefully gliding over your inner lips. 

You hum, biting your lip in an attempt to swallow the obscenity threatening to roll out of your tongue. Your mind was slowly going blank. “I-it f-feels real-ly g-good”, you manage through multiple pants. “Too g-good", you add, your grip letting loose around him, slowing down the strokes, the more he teased your folds. But, his free hand grabs yours, squeezing you back around him while he starts to buck his hips into your fist — a subtle reminder to maintain your ministrations, to not forget about him. 

You huff at his actions, but it’s only fair — you acknowledge.  

He must have quite the experience, you think. This thought a bit bothering you on itself, that he’s had his hand down other girls’ pants before, maybe his cock too, so he’s able to multitask like this... While this is a first for you. Unsure why, you feel like slapping him the more you think about it, picturing him with other girls makes you oddly jealous, but his fingers ease you back into pleasure. You’ll get mad at him later, you think. 

“Tell me if it hurts. Okay?”, he nuzzles his nose against yours — since both of his hands were busy now, this was the only way of asking you to look at him. 

He wanted to see your eyes and confirm for himself that you were indeed alright, that he was really doing this right because he’s never done it before, only seen it in porn. He was afraid that he’d get too distracted and hurt you unintentionally. You felt so good against his fingers that it was enough to make him lose control. All the wet dreams he’s had in the past can’t compare. He already had a lewd depiction of you in his mind that he used to jerk off to — about the way you’d look and feel down there, about the noises you’d make, about the ways your face would contort with fervor... But he realizes now that he was too frivolous and lacking in imagination. The real you beats it all. 

You look at him, your brows slightly lifted, lips closed but twitching in betrayal, threatening to let out the loud moan building in your throat. His fingers scarcely prodding in only weakening your resolve. 

“Let it out”, he speaks to you softly. “Don’t hold it back”, again with that sweet, sweet voice. 

"Shit, you’re so foul when you use that kind of voice”, you audibly gasp, and then let it all out.  

He chuckles. 

His pace quicker now, greedily trying to drag more moans out of you. His entire palm, squished between your legs, now covering your pussy, rubbing harder against your folds with his middle finger slightly curled so the tip of it darts inside you with every movement. Not too deep, just enough to not break your hymen. It was driving you insane and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You’re certain you have never been this loud in your entire life. And you really wanted to slap him again because you were the only mess right now, your urge going stronger after witnessing that cheeky expression on his face, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, too focused to make you cum — maybe he was paying you back for last night. 

But alas, you couldn’t do anything about it. You lost control, completely as he hit just the right places and brought you overwhelming, toe-curling pleasure. 

“Did it feel good?”, Satoru curiously peeks at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“Yes”, you heave. His hand was still there, fingers fumbling with your folds, hence why the tremors washing through your body took longer to quiet down. “Very”, you add. 

“Will you help me finish too?” 

You nod, fixing your loose grip around his cock but moving it in a quite relaxed manner, slowly. 

“Are you doing this on purpose?”, he huffs. 

“No. What’s the rush?” 

“We have classes” 

“We’re already late” 

You squeeze, your strokes now steadier — not faster, but heavier — as you drag your hand up and down, earning a gratifying groan out of him. “We can skip altogether”  

“And?”, he pants, with eyes half-lidded he looks at you. Are you going to suggest what he’s thinking about too? 

“We can stay like this for a bit” — you gather your pace. “Wash up” — accelerating it more after the pause. “Have breakfast” — and some more. “And do this all over again” — and... 

Satoru opens his mouth but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he moans low and throatily as his orgasm starts to build up. 

Was it the way you moved your hand or what you said that made him crumble so fast, he was not so sure. But it was quite the intense thing. He bucked his hips a little until every bit of drop was out, and he did so in a way that made you clench. The way he squeezed his eyes shut, nose scrunched up while he bit his lower lip, his hand gripping your waist to steady himself as he thrusted into your fist... It was way too of an arousing sight. 

He made a huge mess too. His cum sprayed all over your belly, uncontrollably. Your hand and fingers coated in it too. 

“Shit— I didn’t mean to”, he panics, jolting and rushing to grab some tissues from the nightstand, but you stop him. 

“It's okay”, you reassure him. “I think I like it”, you confess. “Next time you can cum on me intentionally” 

“There is really something wrong with your head, we should go get you checked out”, he mocks, but he hides his face in the pillow to conceal the smile stretching on his lips along with the already existing blush on his cheeks. Next time, huh?  

You stayed in for the day. Just as you suggested, you lingered in bed for a little longer, bickering back and forth, which put Satoru at ease. He was sick worried, but things were still the same between you two. Not quite as they used to be, considering last night and this morning, but you were still you. There was no tension, nor any awkwardness in the air. 

You washed up together over the bathroom sink, bumping hips as you brushed your teeth. 

He always kept a spare toothbrush for you for when you’d stay the night. He diligently changed it with a new one every now and then. Although you didn’t have any clothes over at his dorm room, he gave you his while complaining how thoughtless you were for not bringing spare clothing with you, only causing him more trouble with piling up more laundry. But he liked it, secretly. His t-shirts looked good on you, like you were his girlfriend. He didn’t have any clothes back at your room either, at first. There was no way yours would ever fit him, so he brought some and left them there. You always washed them with your clothes and they smelled like the detergent you’d always use. It made him feel like he was your boyfriend. 

Later, you had breakfast, and after that — another session of exploring your bodies. Again, you only used your hands. He sat you on the table and fingered you while you stroked his cock. 

You played some games, read manga, took a nap, ate lunch, and then you did it again. 

And again, after dinner. 

Then some more before you went to bed. 

You never kissed though, not yet. As if the kiss itself meant something entirely different in the light of what you were doing, something more intimate than masturbating each other. 

Day two and three were no different, you stayed locked in and repeated. You ate, you fucked each other with your hands, and you slept. 

Nothing changed on the fourth either, only that you ran out of food but ordered takeout. 

“Can you make it a bit spicy?”, Satoru spoke on the phone to a nearby restaurant he’d frequently order from. So frequently in fact that they knew his order by heart, and asking for the dish to be spicy was unusual of him.  

“Huh? You always make we don’t put any spice in your food? Are you sure?”, the takeout clerk gasped from the other side of the line. 

Scratching the back of his head, Satoru looked around to see if you were still in the bathroom before he spoke. “Yeah, I know. But, um— my girlfriend likes it”, he said, his face heating up with a red hue. 

You weren’t his girlfriend. Neither of you made an attempt to redefine your relationship, and he was too afraid to make the first step. What if you were simply acting out this way because you were indeed just curious?  

Either way, he wanted to say it. To say that you were his girlfriend. And it wasn’t the first time he’d done it. People would often time confuse you for a couple, and he’d never flat out deny it. You never knew about this though, it always happened behind your back. Either his friends being too nosy, or an old lady on the street telling him how good you looked together after you ran off to pet a stray cat. 

On the fifth day, some friends got a bit worried. You were gone for almost an entire week, skipping classes, so that was a given. 

suguru: wtf bro  suguru: u alive? 

satoru: yeah  satoru: more than ever 

suguru: huh 

satoru: i might have a shot with her  satoru: i'll tell u later 

suguru: with who? 

satoru: ur mom i've been pining over since i was four  satoru: be fr now  

suguru: wait  suguru: HER her??????????? 

satoru: yeah HER her 

suguru: wow it's happening? 

satoru: idk  satoru: ...kinda 

suguru: good luck bro  suguru: if you fuck it up i'll try my chance with her  suguru: so make sure u do ur best LOL 

satoru: i will beat u up and block u 

Naturally, it started to feel less awkward the more you did it. ‘Are you hard?’ or ‘Are you wet?’ being the initiating lines you were both dying to hear now, knowing well what they’d lead to. The answer was always ‘yes’, there was no denying that you were both hard and wet around each other for the most part. 

At some point you began skipping the questions, just letting your hands roam and find out. Consent was always silently present. 

Even when you weren’t being naughty with each other, it was different. You had definitely started seeing Satoru in a new light, which scared you a little bit. The way you looked at him, and the way you caught him looking at you — it wasn’t the same as it had been. There was more to it. 

On the sixth day, you tried something different.  

“My hands are tired”, you complain. 

“Let’s try something different”, Satoru proposes. 

He lies on his back, holding his cock flat against his stomach. “Hop on it” 

“What—”, your eyes pop out in shock. “I’m not ready for that, yet”, you squirm, holding your face in your palms. You were curious about intercourse, of course, but you were also scared. All the forums you scrolled through had a different take on it — some netizens said the first time was painful while others claimed they only felt a slight discomfort but nothing more. Many mentioned bleeding too. You didn’t know which category you’d fall into. And as much as you wanted it, the idea of putting Satoru’s cock inside you was quite intimidating. He was big. Will it even fit?  

Satoru chuckles. “I don’t mean that — just straddle me, sit yourself right on top of it and rock your hips back and forth” He points at his cock, “See, I am holding it down for you so it won’t enter you. You’ll just hump against the length of it and nothing more. It’ll feel good, I promise” 

You peek at him from between your fingers. “Okay”, you timidly agree. 

It was good, but short-lived. Unfortunately, you didn’t get to finish in this position because Satoru came too soon and too hard, his entire body shivering continuously. He had no idea what he was getting himself into when he proposed it but having your warmth and your slick on his cock directly from the source messed him up. It took him every ounce of restraint not to just slide it in and have his way with you. 

On the seventh day, after all the things you’d done, you finally shared your first kiss.  

It was nothing nearly romantic like it was in the books and in the movies. In fact, it kind of happened out of spite. 

It was around lunchtime. You both felt like eating pizza today, and so you ordered. In the meantime, while waiting for your food to be delivered, you hopped in the bathroom to take a quick shower. 

Satoru wanted to join you too, but you kicked him out, telling him to wait for the delivery guy. With a tail between his legs and a hangdog face he crawled back on the bed, huffing and puffing loudly so you could hear him and maybe pity him enough to invite him back... 

His brilliant performance of a sad puppy was interrupted by a knock on the door. This was quick, he thought, and jumped out of the bed, thrilled — he could pay for the food and sneak in to play with you... 

He quickly tossed on a shirt and put on some shorts on the way to get the door. 

It was not the food. 

It was his ex, standing on his doorstep with her arms crossed over her waist, eyeing him demandingly. 

“Don’t tell me you’re so heartbroken over our breakup that you would lock yourself in your room and skip classes for an entire week?”, she scoffs. 

“Did you forget who broke up with who?”, Satoru snorts. 

For sure, she did not. Satoru did it quite cruelly, over text after ghosting her for three days. It was not his proudest moment but he didn’t care enough to feel guilty over it.  

And she was fully aware of it too. But still, she liked him a lot, in fact she liked him ever since orientation and it took her an entire year to work her way to him. She was desperate. 

She sighs deeply, dropping the attitude now. “You never replied to my messages” 

“Didn’t see” 

“You did, but you left me on seen” 

“Must’ve forgotten to answer” 

His answers were short and dry. The timing was simply bad, and he wanted her out of here before you came out of the shower, concerned that her being here would create a misunderstanding in your head. 

“Look, I am sorry I said all those stuff about your friend. But it bothered me, okay? You treated her more like a girlfriend than you did me, your actual girlfriend... I was constantly under the impression that—”, before she could finish a third voice cut her off. 

“’Toru”, you yell from behind him. “Is it the food?” 

Your hair damp, a towel wrapped around your body, you saunter over to the door from behind him to peek, but your feet freeze in place. 

Oh? That girl... his ex. 

You woke up happy this morning, in fact you woke up happy every morning for the past seven days but now your mood was foul all of a sudden. That same odd feeling you’d get whenever you thought of Satoru with another girl creeped in in your chest. While you brushed it off easily in the past, you couldn’t quite do so now. The irritation grew more insistent. Your demons were threatening to act up. 

“...there was something going on between you”, the girl finishes her sentence, then pauses to let out a short laugh and shake her head in disbelief before she continues. “I guess my hunch was right, huh?” 

You step a little closer, standing right next to Satoru. 

Something you couldn’t quite put your finger on came over you. Of course, you could read the room — she obviously came here to mend things up. And you were not happy about it. Not in the slightest. Was this annoying feeling tugging at your chest called jealousy? You didn’t have a reason to hate this girl, she did nothing to you. Yet... 

“Well, well. Aren’t you a smart one?” — you couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth right now but you didn’t have it in you to stop.  

Utterly amused, Satoru stared at you. He was shocked, in a pleasingly new way. A semblance of an idiotic smile plastered on his lips while he did nothing to stop you. 

“Should I perhaps solidify your hunch with a proof so you stop running after someone else’s boyfriend?”, you glare at her. 

Standing on your toes, you clutch a handful of Satoru’s shirt with both hands, pulling him down to the level of your face for your lips to reach his, and kiss him. 

Helpless in the face of your lips laid against his, he lets out an audible gasp. The sound of it vibrating against your mouth. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, he thinks, but his eyes close anyway, melting into the softness of your lips. There was no tongue, just a long peck, and he couldn’t help but smile into it. 

Without breaking the kiss, you look at the girl from the corner of your eye, and you slam the door in her face. 

“Good riddance”, you murmur after pulling away from Satoru, and walk back inside. 

He never knew that a simple kiss like this could make him so dizzy that he would lose his balance and stumble. As if his feet got caught in something he involuntarily took a few sharp steps forward, putting his arms out to steady himself and avoid falling face down. 

“Hey”, he called out, slowly following behind you. 

“What’s her deal anyway?”, you keep going at it, still beyond irritated. “Didn’t you guys break up?” 

“Hey”, he speaks again, stepping closer. 

“And she's pestering you like this? The audacity...” 

“Hey—” 

“What!”, you yell, turning around to give him a scolding too because, knowing him, he probably didn’t end things with her in a manner that was polite and proper.  

...but he was right behind you, smiling at you affectionately with his eyes. It made your breath hitch, and your chest — feel a bit peculiar. 

“Hey”, he repeats again, softly. His hands squish your cheeks inside his palms and he slowly cranes his neck down. “Did you mean it?”, he asks through a whisper. 

You shift your gaze to the side, avoiding to look at him directly. “Did I mean what?”, you puff. 

“Calling me your boyfriend”, he tilts his head to the side, blocking your view and forcing you to look at him. 

“No... I was just saving your ass” — you try to break free to prevent the heat on your cheeks from warming the skin of his palms, from giving you away. But he’s holding you still. 

He leans in closer and whispers, “Would it be so bad if I was your boyfriend?” 

It was not a question as much it was a plea. Let me. 

“You’re a bit of a jerk sometimes, so maybe? I know for sure people will judge me for my poor taste” 

“Your mom won’t, she likes me”, he points out, proudly. 

“She likes you more than she likes me, her own daughter, so her opinion is invalid. In fact, she would tell you to go pick someone better”, you snort, and he laughs. She really did love him like her own son. After all, he grew up in her hands along with you. You spent day and night together, in and out of each other’s houses. 

“I am serious”, he gives a gentle squeeze around your face, an attempt to snap you out of the ongoing banter because he was desperate to know. You didn’t give him a proper answer, but you didn’t reject him either — there was still hope, he thought. “Would you hate it?” 

“...I don’t know”, you let out quietly, conflicted. 

“Should we try? Or are you only curious about my body?” 

“See? You’re kind of a jerk after all”, you pout. “Will things change... between us?” 

“Aren’t they already changing?”, he smiles. 

You hum, softly tugging at the hem of his shirt with both of your hands. "I don't want to lose my best friend if we screw this up” 

“Same”, he nuzzles his face closer. “That’s why, we won’t screw this up”, he quietly chants into you like a promise, drawing his lips to yours tenderly before either of you have the chance to panic any further about the implications of this change. 

[muntitled]

Poor thing ♡

Jake Sim x Fem!Reader

Summary: sleepy gf ♡ horny bf

♡ Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Smut +18 (Minors DNI) dumbification dollification, Slight ddlg, Brief Daddy Kink, Somnophilia, which means dub/con, Breeding Kink, Domestic Kink, Corruption Kink, Unedited, Mentions of Bondage

This might be tmi but I got turned on writing this and that's probably because I didn't realise how much I love this man. It's so bad girl, pray for me

You'd spoken about kink since the peroration of your relationship. It had been something you'd both decided was very important.

Although Jake admits he only thought kink was a few whips and rope, you assured him it was indeed a whole other world.

“What about somno?,” you'd asked him, while you both sat lazily on the comfort of your living room floor, soaking in the idle 808 beats of some Metro Boomin track while you both had a notebook out in front of you.

Although Jake craved for nothing more than to close the large distance between the two of you while you jotted down your sexual boundaries, even if it was just a hand placed on your thigh, he stopped himself.

He knew that distance was necessary when discussing sexual do’s and don'ts.

There couldn't be any sort of touching involved while you both fleshed out and divulged what would and would not be allowed within the sexual confines of your relationship.

All this talk about sex, however, had regressed his adult brain back into adolescence and he nursed an annoying boner the more you spoke.

“What's that?” He asked with his head tilted unconsciously. All you could do was chuckle softly as you eyed your boyfriend sitting on the floor adjacent to you. Your legs were splayed out and running parallel to his but still evaded the possibility of touch. You did not only find it adorable to witness just how much your boyfriend was trying to behave for you, you also found it so incredibly attractive.

“C'mon,” you had said as you shyly spun your finger on the rim of your glass containing a mild coke zero (no intoxication when discussing boundaries. Another infuriating rule, Jake found). “I do not have to explain to you what somno is,”

Jake only shrugged as he eyed you from across the small room. His back leaning against the couch was tense as he said, “afraid you do, babe,”

It was the way he was looking at you, with his eyes carelessly conveying just how turned on he'd managed to get during this short time of abstinence.

Your eyes never leave him when you talk. Hoping to convey your own need as you said “You can google it, Jake.”

“I can,” he nodded almost immediately, “Course I can, but I don't want to.”

What he didn't say is that he much rather preferred it when you used your words to divulge your knowledge on every filthy little detail about a particular kink. It turned him on to know what slept inside your mind and it made him uncharacteristically unhinged with lust when such dirty words left an unusually dignified mouth.

Corruption Kink. You had given him that diagnosis sometime throughout the evening.

“Jake,” you shake your head again, feeling the heat seep into the worn fabric of Jake's old Tupac shirt. It was probably unwise to be dressed in nothing but his oversized graphic tee and you're only made aware of this dire mistake right now. “You know.”

“No, actually, I don't.” He breaches the rules. Fuck the rules. And he lets his hand reach to tentatively rub at your cute little toe before returning his hand to his notebook.

“Tell me what somno is-”

“Sleep play.” You eventually shoved the words out of your mouth like unwanted visitors.

The second they registered in Jake's head he was sitting just a little straighter.

“Jesus…” Is all he said as he downed the rest of the 100% orange juice which he had really wished was 60% straight fucking vodka.

“Y-Yeah, but we don't really have to go into this one. I could just write it down in the ‘not interested’ list and we can just move on-” at the sight of you bending your head to furiously scribble inside the notebook containing the safety guidelines of your sex life, Jake reached out once again until his hand was perfectly encapsulating your entire foot.

“Nah, hold on.” He said, with a hint of a smile and nothing but sheer intrigue swimming in his eyes, “don't get rid of it yet.” He said. “Let's talk about it.” The devil shrugged. “Give it a fair chance.”

And although the evening had ended with Jake ravishing you on the living room floor -you were folded in half as he ate you out with the fervour of a starved man- Jake Sim did not incorporate any of the kink you two had just spoken about into the act.

In fact, all of your sexual escapades have been fairly vanilla with added hints of praise and degradation here and there before this very night.

Let it be clear that Jake Sim did not expect sex on this particular Thursday evening.

He had been having a particularly cursed day with nothing at all going right for him except the prospect of seeing you after dance practice. The possibility of you cradling him against the plushness of your breasts while you sang to him with your fingers running through his hair kept him afloat until he let himself into your apartment by the end of the day.

“Yo? ‘anyone home?”

Instead of finding you tapping away at your laptop or consuming a starkly provocative HBO original, Jake found you asleep, in your room. Fairy lights on while the sound of crashing waves bled through your phone speaker.

Before he got horny, let the record reflect that Jake was perfectly content with climbing into bed with you and dozing off himself. But he couldn't help how his body responded to the softness of your curves pressing into his side the moment he lowered himself onto your bed and into your warm pink quilts. He should be closing his eyes, dozing off alongside you but the longer he stares at the miniscule details of your face, the more his stomach tightens and warms.

Perhaps, venturing into more sinister territory, Jake's eyes skate down to your slightly open mouth and then- down to your frame nestled under his armpit, where you lay in a foetal position with your stuffed animal held in an almost primal grip.

It is then that the first beginning of guilt seeps into his lower stomach, feeling that he doesn't really wish to dissect, especially given your very persuasive reassurances that “kink should never feel icky if it's consensual.”

And you gave him your consent.

Jake still remembers your slightly laboured breathing when you admitted to being turned on by the idea of somnophilia.

The smile on Jake's face as he bends down to nestle his face in your headwrap is placid, like calm still waters on a Sunday afternoon. Doing a very good job at hiding the tempest within.

You stir in your sleep and Jake swallows thickly. With his lips still pressed against your head, he stares into space with a vague look of worry and discontent. He knows, logically, that he should not feel bad for what he's about to do. It was only human, after all, to feel sexual desire for your partner. What did not feel normal, however, is how he managed to grow impossibly hard in his sweatpants, and all you've done was sleep, you poor thing.

This time when you shift again, it's to hike your leg up further along his torso, and unbeknownst to you, a broken moan seeps out of Jake's mouth because your leg is now brushing right up against his tense and hardened cock. Jake attempts to regulate his breathing through his nose (in and out, in and out) but his brain loses sight of how unethical this all is under the realisation of just how warm you are underneath him. The arm he had wrapped around your frame flexes as he brings his hand up to the curve of your voluptuous hips. It's then when he thinks about them… you having his kids, and suddenly, he's manoeuvring you even closer into his arms.

“Jakey? Baby, you home?”

Home.

It felt so domestic and it didn't help the heat seeping out of Jake's tense body.

Your groans perpetuate through the confines of the bedroom. You're slowly waking from one of those ghastly kinds of naps. The kind of nap that existed outside space and time and everything else in the known universe. The kind of nap that had you groggily opening your eyes crowded with crust as you try to make sense of your surroundings.

His voice is raspy as he whispers back, “I’m home, Bunny,” Everything in the universe begins to right itself when Jake presses a warm, slightly sloppy kiss to the top of your head and you can feel yourself coming to grips with your surroundings. A warm sigh leaves your mouth and you melt into the sensuality of Jake's second kiss which he displays across the side of your face, moving lower and lower and hiking up your leg still splayed over his lap.

Jake's eyes are closed, brows furrowed and his kiss is lingering. His lips never stray from your skin and you can feel your limp, half asleep body being pressed in further against his warmth. You're suddenly becoming all too aware of your core pressed against Jake's hips at this angle; you and your boyfriend's limbs are practically intertwined.

His warmth is all encompassing.

“Ja-What…” a sleepy little yawn squeaks out of your throat and you unconsciously bring a limp hand up to wipe away all the sleep.

Jake watches you with grave, grave admiration. The kind of feeling that squeezes at his heart and, perhaps more shamefully, his cock. “What time is it?”

“Not important, Bunny,” he kisses you again. Heaven's he was brimming with kisses for you. They felt like a lullaby, coaxing you back to bed. “Just go back to bed,”

Those particular words have you blinking up at your boyfriend who begins to come into focus under the hazy orange glow of the fairy lights. Your body stretches ever so slightly as you crane your head up to meet his half lidded eyes.

“What time is it-” you begin to answer again, but Jake stops you once again.

“You don't need to worry your pretty brain about stuff like that,” he nudges his chin towards you as if beckoning to play along with this scene he's orchestrated for the two of you. Despite feeling your heart strings tugging at the idea of playing along, you're still very much plagued by rationality.

“Jake- Baby, you have practice tomorrow. I don't think you can sleep over-”

“But pretty girls don't think,” he nestles his head into the crook of your shoulders and he squeezes. Once again, begging you to play along, “You never have to think when you have me.”

You could feel the better part of you being dragged into the safe, plush wonderland of your subspace, just from his words alone. When Jake doesn't get a response he pulls back to make eye contact with you once more, Sickeningly satisfied to see the fog beginning to fill your pupils.

“But, Jakey-” he has you. He knows he has you.

“You still sound so sleepy, Baby,” he whispers, and you're quite shocked to find yourself being lifted off the bed, “You want Jakey to help take the sleepiness away, don't you?”

Another kink you two had discussed ad nauseum but had failed to ever orchestrate in real time. It happened flawlessly between you both. A torrid yet natural dance. Ddlg, you called it.

Jake is still lying supine on the bed as he manoeuvres you to straddle his legs. Your hands anchor yourself by the rough skin of his torso through his pitch black shirt while his hands find home on your thigh, “I need you to help me out and then you won't be sleepy anymore, yeah?” The smile he gives you is enough to get any person to bend to his every will and so you find yourself nodding dumbly, with your eyes still half lidded, and a part of your brain experiencing a sleeplike calmness. “Jakey needs you to be good for him, okay?” You swallow thickly and yelp when Jake lifts his hips, subsequently lifting you as if you weighed nothing at all. His eyes are pained when he uncovers his hard, leaking dick from his sweatpants. You're not sure if it's the sleepiness still raining heavily on you but you're suddenly plagued by the need to enclose his cock in your hand.

So that's what you do

With your limbs operating on autopilot, your hand falls lazily over his cock while you tiredly rub your left eye with your other hand.

“F-Fuck, Bunny- What're you doing?” Jake looks up at you with wild, pained eyes and you peer down at him with a tilted head. Ever so clueless. Ever so beautiful, “I wanna help,” You whisper and his cock immediately twitches in your hand, “I wanna help,” You mumble as you lower your front against his, nuzzling into his neck while you sleepily begin to pump his cock.

Your chin hangs over his shoulder as your eyes flutter shut, all the while, Jake bites his bottom lip until he's on the verge of breaking skin.

“You're trying to off me, you know that?” Jake whispers into your ear as the warmth of your palm struggles to keep him thinking rationally. Unable to stop himself from lifting his hips slightly to grind against your hand, Jake hopes for more friction, more fucking pressure, but it never comes. Not when you've basically passed out on top of him.

“F-Fuck me,” Jake whispers as he lift his hands to lightlyoaw at your hips. “You're making me fucking insane, you know that?” Jake's voice is coated with singsong need as he shuffles you lower on his torso until your hips meet his. “You said this is okay, didn't you baby?” The only answer he gets in return is a few lightly snores as he lifts you up, having you hover djrectly over his aching cock, twitching to be inside you.

For a while Jake is perfectly content with humping lazily against your pyjama pants as you shuffle intermittently.

His hands rub over your back, feeling your chest pressed against his before drifting his hand down to the curve of your ass and the thin pyjama shorts hugging your hips.

He immediately decides he can't do it.

“Daddy needs to be inside you, Bunny.” Your breasts push against him as he reaches down to swipe your pyjama pants and your oantjes to the side, “Your hands and mouth…They just won't do, baby. I need to fuck you, d'you understand?” he asks with so much concern and so much consideration it would have your heart clenching in its cage if you were conscious.

Jake's breath is caught in his throat as the head of his cock prods at your tight opening. As he tries to guide his cock in, you shift a little over him, causing him to pat lovingly at your back, coaxing you to sleep as he forced his cock into your cunt. Instead of swallowing him like you usually did, your cunt is vehemently trying to push out the intrusion, which only succeeds in turning him on more.

Jake buries his head into the crook of your neck, sniffing in your scent as he pushes himself in despite the tight fit.

“You're gonna make me cum so quick, Princess,” he whispers into your hair.

You barely made it 10 pumps before your shuffling above him with your cunt was split into two.

He wanted to use you, he needed to make you his dumb, unresponsive toy and Jake shivers as a bead of precum streams down the side of his cock.

“You're doing so good for me,” his hips lift as his hand on your ass presses down, forcing you to meet his steadily growing thrusts“You don't wanna disappoint me, do you?” he asks your cute, sleeping form. As if in response to his words, your body subconsciously reacts and your cunt tightens around his cock, immediately sending Jake into a bitter delirium.

Soon, his head is thrown back into the pillows and both his hands are firmly on your ass as he begins to fuck up into you with less care. “F-Fuck Princess, I think I could cum like this,”

You're shuffling again. Threatening to wake up. It only has Jake fucking you harder, bringing him closer to the edge.

“F-Fuck-this fucking pussy-” You were being split in two. You on top of him somehow felt like he was going deeper than how he usually went. “Oh God, you're so warm, Bunny,” He exclaims, looking up at the ceiling with his own pained expression, completely and utterly trapped in his dom space as he begins to move you up and down on his cock.

Your limp body followed, unable to conjure up the strength of your own movements. He had all the control over all your movements, kinda like-

“Y-You're my toy, aren't you, Bunny?” Jake is so completely fargone as he watches your ass bounce with each of his rabid thrusts, completely uncaring over whether you're awake or not. “Fuck, you’re my fucking toy,” Jake's a blubbering mess and it only makes you wetter as you slowly blink open your eyes, in the very middle of one of your most prized fantasy’s. Your cunt squeezes around his cock. Your heart hammering in your chest. Your orgasm crests along with his.

You had never thought you'd ever know what a sleepy orgasm would feel like but somehow you knew it would ram through you with way too much intensity.

“You like me deep inside, yeah? You like being split open while you sleep, Bunny? Hm? You're so fucking perfect you know that? So fucking pretty- J need you to have my babies, yeah?” The more he talks, the more it's difficult to pretend to stay asleep. A groggy and tired moan slips out of your mouth while your arousal slips out of your leaking cunt. “You'd like that, wouldn't you? Us having babies.”

Jake's hips stutter against yours. His jaw is locked tight as you clench around him, “F-Fuck you would like that-” It is then that you're starkly aware of the hidden narcissism that this kink bred. Here he was, using you to get off with only himself as the audience. Jake was guiding himself to orgasm with his own dirty words as if he were God and somehow that thought succeeds in bringing you to orgasm.

“Oh God, Jake-”

“You need me to get you pregnant, don't you?” Your head nods almost unconsciously, without the permission of your rational brain and Jake speeds up his fucking into you, as orchestrating a new form of movement. He was always leading you, even when it came to his pleasure.

“Just like that, Bunny,” he always praised you without a second thought…

Jake is working himself to orgasm with short, shallow breaths. His hips lift to thrust into your dripping cunt and in his mind he's about to come to the fact that you really are his toy.

“Fuck, you're gonna make me cum,” he whispers into the side of your head, “Your leaky fucking pussy's going to make me cum, Bunny-”

His orgasm triggers another one of your own and both your legs spasm, locking around him as Jake releases his cum deep inside you. His hand clenched down on your hips, forcing you to take in every single drop until it's forcing itself out of your dripping cunt, trailing down your thigh. After riding the high of his orgasm, Jake looks bright eyed again, like he's gotten rid of something very dark and very oppressive until the sunny Jake Sim was back.

“So good,” he smiles down at you, “You always do so well for me”

[hanniebaeee]

Honey Cakes

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: established relationship, smuttyyyy, fluff

Summary: Hyunjin had it all planned out - a romantic dinner date (plus the surprise). But then he gets almost stood up, and then edged to near insanity. By the time dessert is done, so is his patience.

a/n: Someone sent me something, and I went feral ( @kittentaegu sweetheart, thank you for inspiring me hehe)

The first thing you see when you wake up is chaos in the form of a hundred texts and missed calls from your boyfriend. 

You are still groggy from sleep, but your heart nearly stops as you pick up the phone.

Hyunjin [7:30 PM]: Baby. Love of my life. Where are you?  

Hyunjin [7:30 PM]: I swear to God, if you’re dead, I will kill you.

Hyunjin [7:31 PM]: I’m literally sitting here looking like an abandoned puppy.

Hyunjin [7:32 PM]: The waiter asked if I needed water and was looking at me funny. 

Hyunjin [7:35 PM]: Just say it. You don’t love me anymore.

Hyunjin [7:36 PM]: I was a fool to believe in love.

Hyunjin [7:38 PM]: BRB ordering the most expensive wine so I can SOB into it.

Hyunjin [7:40 PM]: There's a happy couple at the next table. Omg I wanna die 😭

Oh, shit.

Your heart drops as you realize that your fifteen-minute power nap has turned into a one hour coma. It had been such an exhausting day at work, and all you wanted was to take a short nap before you met Hyunjin for your dinner date.

And now your dramatic ass boyfriend is left unsupervised in a fancy restaurant with his overactive imagination. You fumble with the phone as you call him immediately. He picks up in half a ring.

“Oh finally you called,” he sighs, voice dripping with melodrama. “Just say it.”

“Say what?” You sit up too fast and almost fall off the bed.

“You stood me up for thirty minutes,” he declares dramatically. “I am SITTING HERE ALONE in a romantic, candlelit, EXPENSIVE ASS RESTAURANT, looking like a HEARTBROKEN FOOL.”  

You press your lips together because you absolutely cannot laugh right now. Not when he’s being so serious about his suffering.

“Hyunjin, baby,” you say, raiding your wardrobe for something that will make up for this little mishap. And you grin as your eyes land on that dress. 

You haven't worn it before. Another one of Hyunjin's gifts - because he daydreams of you in all pretty outfits his eyes fall on and comes home with the said outfit, begging you to wear it for him. 

“I didn’t stand you up, I just -”

“Oh, so neglect is different from abandonment now?” he challenges, sniffing for dramatic effect. “Interesting.”

“Baby I accidentally took a nap -”

“Oh my God.” He gasps. “You slept through our date?”

“I love you Jinnie, and I’m so sorry -”

“Don’t gaslight me with love.”

You do a quick job with your makeup, and he's still ranting on the other side as you grab your keys and sprint out the door.

“I’m on my way right now, honey bun, I swear.”

“You’d better be,” he grumbles. “Because if I finish this glass alone, I’m throwing myself into the restaurant fountain.”

When you get there, panting from running in heels, Hyunjin is sitting at a candlelit table in the corner looking like a masterpiece and a neglected princess all at once.

You rush over, but before you can even apologize properly, he exhales exaggeratedly. 

“Did you have a nice nap?” he says coolly, twirling his wine glass.

You bite your lip, willing yourself not to laugh.

“Hyunjin, baby -”

“No. It’s fine.” He looks away dramatically. “I understand.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You slide into the chair next to him, lean in so close your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, “I said I'm sorry, baby. I'll make it up to you.”

His entire body freezes as your warm breath fan his neck. Then he exhales, eyes dropping to your neckline, hand gripping his wine glass tight.

“This dress…” he mutters, clearing his throat.

“I knew you'll love it. I also haven't eaten all day, so I’m starving.” You smirk, running a teasing hand down his thigh.

He chokes on air.

“Okay. I’m sure we can work this out,” he announces, eyes dark. “In fact, I am not even mad anymore.”

“Thought so.” You grin cheekily, and Hyunjin sighs because it's no secret that you have this man wrapped around your little finger.

He rests his chin on his hand as gazes at you, a soft smile playing on his gorgeous face.

And just when you think that you've won this round, Hyunjin reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a cute velvet box.

“I was going to wait, but honestly, you’re gonna put me in an early grave. So let's do this, yeah?”

Your heart stops as he opens the little box and inside it sits the prettiest ring you've ever seen. His eyes are so gentle, so full of love - none of his usual teasing or the drama. Just him.

“I had a whole speech ready for this, but you stood me up and I panicked and I -”

You swallow hard as he rambled on. He's stumbling on his words, and he's so sweet, you just want to squish cheeks and cry for days. 

“So, marry me?” His voice is so soft as he asks you that, and he's looking at you with those pretty puppy eyes, and you are sure you feel the sting of tears forming in your eyes. 

“You sure?” You tease. “I did stand you up just now.”

He groans, head dropping into the table with a mild thump.

“Just say yes before I have a heart attack.” he says, looking up at you with a smile. 

You laugh, cup his perfect face in your hands, and say the only thing that’s there to say.

“Yes.”

And Hyunjin, the love of your dramatic life, kisses you breathless before slipping the ring on your finger. And you both giggle, foreheads pressed together, and he whispers, “We’re gonna need more wine now.”

Less than fifteen minutes later - Hyunjin is suffering, to say the least. 

Like, genuinely on the verge of passing out in this very fancy restaurant where he just proposed and you said yes. Because instead of rushing home to let him show you just how insanely in love with you he is, you’re… eating. 

Like nothing life-changing just happened. The diamond ring glittered on your finger as you ate like you haven't eaten in days. Literally wolfing down the pasta in between long sips of wine.

Like your hand isn’t resting on his thigh, your fingers idly stroking his inner thigh in a way that is definitely NOT innocent. 

And Hyunjin?  He is in shambles.  

You moan as you take another bite of that darn pasta, completely oblivious to the way he grips the edge of the table like his life depended on it. 

"This is so good," you sigh, licking your lips. 

Hyunjin closes his eyes. Lord, grant me strength.

You hum in absolute bliss, and say, "Baby, you have to try this -"

Try? TRY? Oh you've been trying him for the past fifteen minutes. And now he wants to try something, alright.

He wants to drag you out of this restaurant, throw you onto the first surface he finds, and have his way with you. There is a lot he wants to try right now. 

But no.  Because he’s a gentleman. A respectable, self-controlled, newly-engaged man (who's so close to losing his shit). 

"Are you okay, honey bun?" you ask, blinking at him with innocent, pretty eyes. And Hyunjin forgets how to breathe for a second. 

His thigh tenses under your touch, and he swallows audibly.

"I’m fine," he grits out. 

You tilt your head, unconvinced.  

"You’re not touching your food." 

Because his appetite is for something else entirely, and it is not on this goddamn menu.

"Just -" He clears his throat, shifting a little in his chair. "Just thinking." About all the ways he's going to wreck you the second you both leave.  

You hum thoughtfully, dragging your hand up his thigh just a little higher, and Hyunjin prays. Because if you don’t stop, he is fully prepared to drop to his knees in the middle of this restaurant, and beg for you to let him take you home immediately.

You stab another forkful of pasta and beam at him.  

"So, what are we getting for dessert?" You ask, giving him a sunny smile. 

Hyunjin blinks. Dessert? Then he laughs. It’s a broken,  hysterical laugh. Like he just realized he might not survive the night. And you just smile sweetly, your hand still very much resting on his thigh, way too close to a growing problem. 

The final nail in his coffin was of course, dessert. 

Honey cake. Warm. Moist. So damn sweet. You take your first bite, and Hyunjin swears he saw stars.  

Your head tilts back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, lips parting in pure bliss. And Hyunjin stops breathing. So this is how he goes - sweating in his silk button down shirt, rock-hard under the table, watching a damn cake give you an orgasm. More like a foodgasm? 

You let out a soft, sinful moan, and Hyunjin grips the table for dear life. Oh hell. 

You lick the spoon slowly, completely unaware that you are seconds away from being dragged out of this restaurant by your ankles.  

"This is so good, Jinnie," you murmur, voice low and warm. "You have to try this."  

No. He cannot. He physically cannot. Because he was this close to throwing you on the table and getting banned from this restaurant for life.  Which, honestly, might be worth it at this point.  

But then you load up a spoonful, hold it up to his lips, and whisper, "Open up for me, baby."  

OH. SO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY. 

Hyunjin glares at you, jaw so tight he might break his own teeth. But when has he ever denied you anything? He parts his lips, because he’s a damn fool. 

The second the cake melts on his tongue, his eyes slam shut. It's warm and sweet. And it is so deeply unfair that whatever culinary masterpiece this was, wasn't even close to what he actually wanted to taste right now. 

He groans, head falling onto the table again, rolling the taste over his tongue. And when he opens his eyes again, you are grinning like the devil you are.

You tilt your head, eyes full of mock innocence, and murmur, "Good, right?"  

Hyunjin inhales so deeply his lungs feel like they're ready to collapse. He stares at you and leans in, lips so close to yours, as he whispers, "Finish your cake. Then we're leaving. And when we get home, I hope you're ready, baby." 

The moment your fork clinks against the empty dessert plate, his soul fully detaches from his body. Okay. It's done. You're done. 

Now he can finally do what he has been plotting for the last two hours. His chair scrapes back so fast, and he grabs your wrist, and nearly drags you up and out in record time. 

You giggle shamelessly as Hyunjin literally throws you into the passenger seat of his car.  

He slides into the driver's seat, slams the door shut, says nothing for a minute. His head falls back against the headrest, his chest rising and falling as he tries to regulate his breathing. His fingers flex against his thighs.  

And you? You are having the time of your life.  

"Honey bun, why are you so tense?"

Hyunjin lets out a deep laugh. 

"Tense?" He turns his head to look at you, his blown-out eyes locking with yours. "Baby, I have been on the verge of dying for the past two hours." 

You bite back a grin, leaning in to press a slow, lingering kiss to his neck.  

"Mm." You hum against his hot skin. "So dramatic."  

His hand snaps out, grips your jaw, forcing your face up and his lips barely brush yours as he growls, “Wanna say that again?”

The minute you two step into your shared apartment, Hyunjin has you pressed up against the door. And he doesn’t just kiss you. He devours you.

His hands are everywhere at once - one tangling in your hair, the other gripping your ass, pulling you flush against his firm body.

He kisses you like you owe him your soul for making him suffer like that. He's so hard, it's literally painful, and he can't wait a damn minute.

He lifts you up, hands gripping your thighs, making you gasp and wrap your legs around his waist, as he pins you there, caging you between his body and the door. 

His kisses are messy and sloppy, and he's sweating so damn much. You kiss down his jaw and neck and he groans as you nip at the skin around the little black mole on his neck.

Well he couldn't wait anymore. He's stumbling through the apartment, straight into your bedroom and drops you on the bed before he pulls his shirt off. You watch him strip, your eyes roaming his perfect body. 

And his eyes are on you, his hands reaching down and under your dress to pull your panties down your legs and off. He quickly gets rid of the rest of your clothes before your lips connect again. 

He's so impatient. Grabby and needy. But the minute he's finally inside you, he slows down. Because if he didn't, he'd be cumming without literally any action. 

It’s so slow and deep, and both your bodies are so sensitive with need. Your body arches into his, desperate for him to touch you. 

It doesn't take long for both of you to come crashing down from your peaks, and you can barely breathe. Sweaty, breathless, completely spent -  you’re both a mess. Hyunjin’s chest heaves, skin glistening in the dim light. Even his skin was so damn dramatic. 

“I have never known pain like tonight," he says, voice hoarse, eyes closed. 

You snort, nuzzling closer to kissing his damp shoulder.  

"You survived, baby." 

His arm tightens around you, rolling you over so he can pin you underneath him again.  His dark eyes flicker down, lips trailing down your jaw, your throat and your collarbone.   

"Barely."  

Divider: @saradika-graphics

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