#not to sound whatever bUT IT IS SO GOOD I LOVE IT I CAN'T WAIT FOR YALL TO READ IT

[elixirfromthestars]

I love me a man in love, so him wanting to offer more than that👀—I need to know more!! 🩷🩷

More under the cut ᯓᡣ𐭩

“Look at those damn eyes” you whispered to your best friend, clutching her forearm but never breaking eye contact with the handsome stranger across the poorly lit room, “It’s like they have a life of its own and they want to consume me” you whisper almost out of breath, heart thumping as if you just ran a marathon…

^ I can't blame her, those eyes are everything 🫠💗💗

3 annoying songs later as you were about to finish your last beer, a hand came up from behind you, stealing your drink, about to complain, words lost all meaning, blue eyes took a big sip and made an exaggerated refreshing sigh, putting down the bottle you feel like his eyes bore into your very being, tongue licking his pink lips he clears his throat, “Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?” he says with the biggest grin.

^ You can walk by all you want, I only need you to do it once to know it’s true 🤭💕💕

As if he sensed your distress, blue eyes stops and drops the bags in the sand so he can cradle your face and kiss you breathless in front of everyone, stating that you’re his and he’s proud of it, head light and dizzy you pull away with a giggle to breathe, not being finished with you, he pulls you closer by the neck and pecks your lips, giving you a wink that sends butterflies to your stomach.

^ He’s an absolute fucking sweetheart 😩💗 I looooove that he’s so open with his devotion 😩💕💕

Still in your little paradise with Bucky, you failed to notice that a group of girls in bikinis that barely covered their goods was approaching, a shrill voice cut through, making you wince “hey handsome, wanna play?”

^ They better back off right now 😤

Hoping they would get the message, a yellow and blue ball rolled up between you, “C’mon we won’t keep you long from your friend” one of the girls from the back whined “she doesn’t mind, don’t you sweetie?” said the blonde in a condescending tone, before you could fire back, Bucky threw the ball at them, hard, it would’ve definitely hit them in the face but they managed to dodge it, with a stone-cold face he seethed “not interested”, color draining from their faces, with a few scoffs, what the hell man? and whatevers, they walked away.

^ That’s our man right there 😌✨✨

“They don’t matter sweetheart, I only see one person” he murmured with pure honesty, hands wandering every curve and roll with the utmost tenderness and adoration, you were so enthralled by his eyes that you couldn’t even care enough to freak out that he was touching the parts of your body you wouldn’t even acknowledge some days, you felt safe in his arms, completely seen and still worthy.

^ Utterly devoted and it makes me utterly obsessed 🫠💖💖

“C’mere baby, I wanna thank you” he puckers his lips, waiting for yours, with a whine you stay put “but you’re so dirtyyy, I just got this shirt” you muster your best puppy eyes, with a clenched jaw he signals you with his finger to move, “I said c’mere”, his eyes shone with mischief, the sound of his stern voice echoed through the room, making your body react before your mind, walking up to him and placing your arms around his shoulders, gently gripping your jaw with his hand while the other slid down your bottom, his lips crashed with yours, a gentle kiss that slowly grew needy, like he couldn’t believe he’s been away from you this long, your soft lips are now a comfort he’s grown used to over the last months. With a content sigh, he hesitantly lets go of you, shit-eating grin as he sees your face, shirt, and jeans covered in grease, “happy now?” you ask with a laugh.

^ Ahhhhh, they’re so cute!!! 🥹🩷🩷🩷 He’s so obsessed with her and we love to see it!! 🙂‍↕️💘💘

Reaching your destination, Bucky pulls over and pulls down the windows, the warm breeze and sound of waves crashing overwhelm your senses, reaching for his hand you interlace your fingers, turning to face him you notice that he was already looking at you, a serious look on his face, with the tiniest hint of a smile, “what?” you ask with a grin as you feel your cheeks heat up “you’re fucking beautiful” he says, thumb rubbing your palm, and in that very moment, as if he was in cahoots with the universe, the moonlight hits his eyes, making them bluer than ever before, your breath hitches, “you’re one to talk” you murmur, leaning in to hover over his lips, relishing in the warmth he radiates and his intoxicating smell.

^ These two are so in love I need the wedding preparations to happen now please!!! 🥰🥰

After a few minutes of silence, blue eyes helps you sit up, assuming he silently agreed, you were about to change the subject but as you turned to see him, a knot formed in your throat, he was on his knees, hands cupping the back of your neck, fingers between your hair, gripping you tightly as if begging you for something, glassy eyes full of emotion making your whole world turn to a stop, “I don’t think you grasp just how fucking amazing you are doll” he pleads, “your heart… is so kind, even to those that don’t deserve it, and you’re so sweet and so frigging strong baby” he laughs which makes you laugh, “and your mind works in a way that amazes me, nothin’ special my ass” he mimmicks your voice with an eye roll, thumbs caressing your temples he smiles “you’re extraordinary, and… I love you” he murmurs, all you can do in response is tackle him to the ground and smother him in kisses.

^ Okay, so this was the proposal right?? 😭🩷🩷🩷 I just know when he asks her to marry him it’s going to be the most beautiful speech ever 🤧🩷🩷🩷

He could barely keep his hands off of you, he was always handsy, it was his love language, but when under the influence, he became a 6’3 needy, clingy, hungry koala bear.

^ And we love that 🤭💗💗

“YOU DIRTY DOG! Buy me dinner first” he yells, making a few heads turn, which makes your face turn red, before you could jab him he wrapped his arms around you and dragged you out of there wheezing and laughing.

^ I love these two 😂🩷

Biting his lip, he grips your big thighs and flips you down, a yelp escaping your lips, once he’s on top of you, he starts peppering you with kisses starting with your face, “love was made for me and you doll” he says with a dopey smile, “Romeo and Juliet would be fucking jealous of us” he growls into your skin, the smell of your perfume driving him crazy, his words make you giggle “someone’s drunk” you tease but then you’re cut off, each sound he made as he worshiped your body was intoxicating, you couldn’t focus.

^ He’s such a dream I swear 😭🩷🩷

Grabbing you by the ankles he pulls you towards him and takes off your panties before placing your legs on his broad tattooed shoulders, kneading your thick thighs, his fingers dig into your soft skin, Bucky starts leaving a trail of hot open kisses on your legs. Closing in on your core you start to squirm more “stay still sweetheart, I want to make you feel good”, taking a deep breath you grip the sheets, trying not to move too much, “you deserve to feel good baby, you deserve everything good in this world” he moans against your inner thigh “I’m going to give you the world, I promise” he whispers thinking you didn’t hear because of the state of your contorted face, chuckling he dives in.

^ What must I do to have a man be this deeply devoted to meeee?? 😭🩷🩷 Promising her the world like— 🤧💕💕

“Our wedding is gonna kick this wedding’s ass” he smirks, which makes you giggle, “you’re gonna get your college degree and be a hot-shot artist… I’ll get my act together, we’re gonna see the world, maybe get you knocked up” he whispers that last part with a wicked grin, your eyes widen, you can’t even picture yourself pregnant right now, but you’re not closed to the possibility. Hearing him talk about the future made you smile from ear to ear, holding his hand you bite your lip “I like the sound of that… but what made you think of all this?”, jumping on top of you he starts attacking you with kisses “I’ve been thinking about this since the moment I saw you sweetheart”, he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, arching your eyebrow, knowing he’s holding back makes him sigh “and also… I got a job offer”.

^ Omg their wedding is going to be the best 😭🩷🩷 Planning their futures already with so much hope in their hearts like, my heart can’t take it 🥰🥰

Interrupting your train of thought you felt his hand nuzzle in your neck, but you immediately moved away from his touch, making his face drop, shaking your head you bit your lip trying to suppress a sob, with glassy eyes Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, and without even asking he cupped your face tightly, and kissed your forehead, a tear sliding down his face, “I’ll come back for you” he whispered and got out of the car.

^ WOW I got whiplash from that 💔💔 I didn’t expect for my heart to get torn out in this fic, but here we are 💔💔💔

You watched him leave you behind, your pride was begging you to start the car and go, but the ache in your heart wouldn’t allow it. Getting out of the car you shouted for him, following him inside you were able to reach him, both of you had red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and you couldn’t stand the thought of him being sad, even if it was his own doing. Taking a deep breath you took a step closer but still kept arm's length distance… like a stranger, as if you didn’t love him with everything you are, “why are you doing this to us?” you say with a shaky voice, willing yourself not to scream at him, lower lip trembling he tries to take a step closer but you back away, “I’m doing this for us!”, you shake your head, refusing to believe him, “ if you go there won’t be an us” you cry, at that Bucky storms towards you and grips your waist “no matter where we are I’ll always be yours, and you’ll always be mine” he declares, those blue eyes piercing your soul, you knew he was right.

^ if you go there won’t be an us 😨 would you look at that, the knife has been plunged into my heart 😭💔 YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO MEEEEE 💔💔 And the way he just declares they forever belong to each other, I’m so devastated right now 😭💔

“Every moment we spent together, every touch, every conversation, they.still.matter, whether I’m a bus ride away or in fucking China, no matter how much time passes… there’s no me without you”, searching in his eyes for any lie or doubt you find none, so your hands fly to the back of his neck and you pull him for a passionate kiss.

^ There’s so much love here I CAN’T— 😭

“please don’t leave me” you whisper against his lips in a last attempt to convince him, sniffling, he cups your face and musters a small smile, “if I stay, love is all I can give to you… and that’s not enough sweetheart” he pleads, almost letting his voice break, and before you could say anything back he rubs your temples, begging you to listen to him “right before my dad walked out on us, the last thing he said to me was provide, not even take care of your Ma, or look out for your sister, provide… being a shitty mechanic earning minimum wage ain’t gonna cut it anymore, my family deserves better than that, and you ARE my family doll, I need to do this and I need you to trust me”.

^ NO, YOUR LOVE IS ENOUGH I PROMISE 😭😭😭 You can’t just call her your family and then leaveeeee 💔💔💔💔

As the time passed you learned it wasn’t just a fling, four years of college passed and you still had no desire to start a new relationship or even a simple hook up, not that you had many suitors but still, your love for your blue-eyed man never wavered. You stayed in contact, messaging as much as you could, a call at least once a month, they were bread crumbs but they kept you from starving.

^ FOUR YEARS?? 💔💔 EXCUSE ME?! 💔💔 No, that’s so sad 😭💔💔

“You believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?” the bastard said with a knowing smirk, your bad mood disappeared and without thinking twice, you ran towards his open arms, and oomph leaving his mouth as you crashed into him, arms immediately wrapping around his middle and his cradling your head.

^ REUNITED AT LAST!!!!! 😭🩷😭🩷😭🩷 And the way he circles it back to that cheesy pickup line 😭🩷🩷

“tell me you’re still mine” he breathed out, taking a gulp your hands slid up to his chest, “always Jamie” you desperately nodded, praying he would believe you, “are you?” you timidly asked, “taking a hold of your jaw, face impossibly close and yet not enough he nods “there is no me without you” and before your lips could touch, a man with a gun in hand walks into the shop, you inmediatelly grip Bucky’s arm “Sir we need to get going”, after dismissing him, Bucky turns to you with a pleading look “ready to come home?”, there were so many questions you wanted to ask, and you weren’t really sure if he meant your home, New York or somewhere else, but you went with your gut. Once you closed the shop, you followed him to the limo that was waiting outside, sitting next to him you took his hand and looked into his beautiful cerulean blue eyes, they were the same, you knew they were home, you knew it from the moment you saw him.

^ They’re soulmates!!! 🥹🩷🩷 It’s meant to be!!! 🤧💖💖 But also I was wondering when the mob part would come in and now I see 👀 I guess our beloved was up to a lot of things in those four years… 🫢✨

Oh my darling, Carrot!! 🥰🥰 This was such a beautiful read!! 🫶🏼 The love and devotion that Bucky feels for his girl is written into every word and I felt it in my soul 😭🩷🩷🩷 I adore men that are so obsessed and devoted to their girls, so I instantly fell in love with this Bucky, it’s impossible not to!! 🤭💗💗

L.O.V.E

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Plus size!Fem!Reader (no mention of ethnicity)

Summary: Bucky wants to offer you more than love

Warnings: underage drinking (reader is 20), a little low self esteem, self image issues, smutty (foreplay, implied oral and smut), tiny amount of angst, shitty father (not the reader’s), mention of a gun.

Wc: 4k

a/n: a little late buuut, Happy valentines everyone! I have very mixed feelings about this one lol, also,this was supossed to be pure fluff lmao, oh well… I hope you enjoy <3 And I would like to specify that the reader had a tough time figuring out what she wanted to do after high school so that’s why she JUST applied for collage (it’s ok to not know what you want for your life, there’s no rush, you get to choose your own path).

likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply encouraged <3

L is for the way you look at me

“Look at those damn eyes” you whispered to your best friend, clutching her forearm but never breaking eye contact with the handsome stranger across the poorly lit room, “It’s like they have a life of its own and they want to consume me” you whisper almost out of breath, heart thumping as if you just ran a marathon, the woman next to you chuckled “alright, no more beer for you”, she says as she takes your drink away but you don’t even notice; you’d seen him before back in high school, he always picked up his sister. Whether it was the alcohol or your corny romantic side, you’d swear those cerulean blue eyes were your home, shining with adoration along with a stupid-hot cocky smirk, at this point you’re starting to doubt he’s even looking at you, no one has ever seen you the way he is right now, it’s unsettling in the best way possible.

Too self-conscious to let yourself think that a tatted 6’3 adonis would be interested in you, after an internal debate, you willed yourself to look away, maybe he’s way too drunk to see you clearly, maybe he’s a jerk that wants to get his dick wet, you wouldn’t be surprised at this point. 3 annoying songs later as you were about to finish your last beer, a hand came up from behind you, stealing your drink, about to complain, words lost all meaning, blue eyes took a big sip and made an exaggerated refreshing sigh, putting down the bottle you feel like his eyes bore into your very being, tongue licking his pink lips he clears his throat, “Do you believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?” he says with the biggest grin.

O is for the only one I see

Walking down to the beach with Bucky hand in hand, you find some of your former classmates staring and pointing at you with shock and subtle disgust, dread makes your stomach drop, already regretting letting Bucky convince you to wear a bikini instead of an oversized shirt and shorts.

As if he sensed your distress, blue eyes stops and drops the bags in the sand so he can cradle your face and kiss you breathless in front of everyone, stating that you’re his and he’s proud of it, head light and dizzy you pull away with a giggle to breathe, not being finished with you, he pulls you closer by the neck and pecks your lips, giving you a wink that sends butterflies to your stomach.

Once you were able to find a spot to put a blanket and settle all of your stuff, laying down facing each other, Bucky reached for your face to move a stray hair behind your ear, then with a frown on his features he cupped your cheek “Sorry I couldn’t rent a nicer spot with an umbrella, hammocks and all that… is just my Ma needed me to help her out and I-“, you inmediatelly schooched closer to him with a smile on your face “Buck, it’s ok, I don’t mind, really, besides, it’s pretty expensive, I don’t-“, cupping your face with both hands, with an exasperated look he rests his forehead against yours “I want to treat my girl”, rolling your eyes at him you place your hand on top of his “Jamie this is perfect… so we’ll get a little sunburned” you shrug “no biggie, now would you please drop that frown?” you whisper as you tenderly nudge your nose against his, hand gently caressing the tatoo on his shoulder. At the use of his first name, he relaxes, but still not convinced, the man sighs and gives you a small smirk, whispering in your ear “only if you let me put sunscreen on you”, his warm breath, despite the heat sends a shiver down your spine, noticing your reaction Bucky starts placing soft kisses from your jaw down you neck, making whimper.

Still in your little paradise with Bucky, you failed to notice that a group of girls in bikinis that barely covered their goods was approaching, a shrill voice cut through, making you wince “hey handsome, wanna play?”, swallowing down a bitter “fuck off” you sighed, your body tensed and you kept your head down, of course they assumed he would ditch the fatty for them, and for a second you wouldn’t blame him… Not even sparing them a look, Bucky tilted your chin up and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, a small smile on his lips, and a look in his eyes that said everything you needed to know.

Hoping they would get the message, a yellow and blue ball rolled up between you, “C’mon we won’t keep you long from your friend” one of the girls from the back whined “she doesn’t mind, don’t you sweetie?” said the blonde in a condescending tone, before you could fire back, Bucky threw the ball at them, hard, it would’ve definitely hit them in the face but they managed to dodge it, with a stone-cold face he seethed “not interested”, color draining from their faces, with a few scoffs, what the hell man? and whatevers, they walked away.

Turning to face him you couldn’t help but laugh “you were so mean” you teased as you poked his chest, grabbing you by the waist, blue eyes tackled you and got on top of you, almost making your heart jump out of your chest “They don’t matter sweetheart, I only see one person” he murmured with pure honesty, hands wandering every curve and roll with the utmost tenderness and adoration, you were so enthralled by his eyes that you couldn’t even care enough to freak out that he was touching the parts of your body you wouldn’t even acknowledge some days, you felt safe in his arms, completely seen and still worthy.

V is very very extraordinary

When Bucky got the call that he was gonna have to work on a Sunday night he was about to hang up but then his boss specified the car he was gonna work on, an Aston Martin DB5… he thought it was a fucking joke until he saw it in person, how this beauty of a car ended up in in a shitty auto-repair shop in a nowhere town was a mystery to him, but the pay was decent and that’s all he needed to know.

Shop empty, he was burning the midnight oil with you next to him, sitting on a pouf chair just a few feet away, The Smiths playing in the background as you rambled on about how disappointing Game of Thrones final season was “they did my Khaleesi so dirty” you huff out, Bucky chuckles as you take a deep breath to compose yourself “You know better than to bring up Game of Thrones” you whine, feeling a little embarrassed over your rant, Bucky knew exactly what he was doing, he loved hearing your voice, especially when you talked about things you were passionate about.

2:00 in the morning, you walk up to your disheveled and greasy boyfriend, handing him a cup of coffee “black with three sugars” you wink, Bucky takes a sip and places the drink down, “C’mere baby, I wanna thank you” he puckers his lips, waiting for yours, with a whine you stay put “but you’re so dirtyyy, I just got this shirt” you muster your best puppy eyes, with a clenched jaw he signals you with his finger to move, “I said c’mere”, his eyes shone with mischief, the sound of his stern voice echoed through the room, making your body react before your mind, walking up to him and placing your arms around his shoulders, gently gripping your jaw with his hand while the other slid down your bottom, his lips crashed with yours, a gentle kiss that slowly grew needy, like he couldn’t believe he’s been away from you this long, your soft lips are now a comfort he’s grown used to over the last months. With a content sigh, he hesitantly lets go of you, shit-eating grin as he sees your face, shirt, and jeans covered in grease, “happy now?” you ask with a laugh.

“Can’t believe I let you do this” you whisper as you tapped your foot nervously, nails digging into your forearms, the smell of leather and his scent barely soothing you, “relax doll, I’m being careful, it’s my ass on the line anyways” he chuckles as he drives through the highway with one hand on the leather wheel and his other hand rubbing your thigh “both hands on the wheel BUDDY, we’re not crashing a priceless classic on my watch”, with a playful eye roll he takes his hand off your thigh, you immediately miss the warmth but decide to stay quiet, enjoying the comfortable silence.

Reaching your destination, Bucky pulls over and pulls down the windows, the warm breeze and sound of waves crashing overwhelm your senses, reaching for his hand you interlace your fingers, turning to face him you notice that he was already looking at you, a serious look on his face, with the tiniest hint of a smile, “what?” you ask with a grin as you feel your cheeks heat up “you’re fucking beautiful” he says, thumb rubbing your palm, and in that very moment, as if he was in cahoots with the universe, the moonlight hits his eyes, making them bluer than ever before, your breath hitches, “you’re one to talk” you murmur, leaning in to hover over his lips, relishing in the warmth he radiates and his intoxicating smell.

“Don’t you just love how each time the waves crash it rumbles through your body? It’s like a giant is walking right next to you”, you wonder out loud, laying down, head on his lap, legs in the sand, with a sweet smile Bucky kisses your forehead, “don’t change the subject sweetheart”, with a defeated sigh you avoid his stare, “fine… what I meant was, I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that I’m nothin’ special, I’m gonna live an ordinary life, and that’s ok, I mean, I’ll go to college, pay for the rest of my life for a degree that I probably won’t even use, get a crappy job that’s gonna drain me so much that I’ll only want to be a couch potato at home… it’s fine, there’s nothing wrong with that”.

After a few minutes of silence, blue eyes helps you sit up, assuming he silently agreed, you were about to change the subject but as you turned to see him, a knot formed in your throat, he was on his knees, hands cupping the back of your neck, fingers between your hair, gripping you tightly as if begging you for something, glassy eyes full of emotion making your whole world turn to a stop, “I don’t think you grasp just how fucking amazing you are doll” he pleads, “your heart… is so kind, even to those that don’t deserve it, and you’re so sweet and so frigging strong baby” he laughs which makes you laugh, “and your mind works in a way that amazes me, nothin’ special my ass” he mimmicks your voice with an eye roll, thumbs caressing your temples he smiles “you’re extraordinary, and… I love you” he murmurs, all you can do in response is tackle him to the ground and smother him in kisses.

E is even more than anyone that you adore

Gerry Rafferty’s Right Down the Line is blasting through the speakers, your mint-green dress and hair flowing as you’re being twirled by your blue-eyed man. Bucky thought you looked heavenly… breathless, you were always beautiful but seeing you free of inhibitions, hair on the wind, contagious laughter, wearing a dress that accentuated your body, it was a sight to behold. He could barely keep his hands off of you, he was always handsy, it was his love language, but when under the influence, he became a 6’3 needy, clingy, hungry koala bear.

Because you almost crashed into the bride and groom, between giggles and laughs you tried pulling Bucky out of the dance floor “c’mon Jamie, we’re way too drunk to dance” you said as you pulled him by the collar, making him trip a little, with a grimace he scoffs “you can NEVER bee too drunk to dance baby”, almost turning his back on you and going back dancing, you reach his arm and get on your toes, whispering in his ear, moments later he dramatically gasps “YOU DIRTY DOG! Buy me dinner first” he yells, making a few heads turn, which makes your face turn red, before you could jab him he wrapped his arms around you and dragged you out of there wheezing and laughing. Thankfully your whole family was drunk and too and focused on your cousin and his bride to notice that Bucky stole two champagne bottles and a hotel key, “Buckyyy you’re gonna get us in trouble” you hissed, probably making more fuss than you should’ve, laughing his ass off, Bucky just takes your hand while holding two bottles in the other, failing miserably at leaving the room quietly and unnoticed.

Dress and tux discarded long ago, you two were in bed, both bottles of champagne downed, you in a set of black lingerie and Bucky in red trunks. After an intense make-out session, you were straddling his lap, his hardened bulge beneath your clothed core, hands in his hair, lips on his neck as you recovered your breath. “You’re always so soft” he murmurs against your neck as his hands stroke your back and arms, making you chuckle, you move your head to look at him, admiring the tattoos on his shoulder your mouth starts to salivate, but once your eyes connect you sigh in content “I love you, you big ol’ softie”.

Biting his lip, he grips your big thighs and flips you down, a yelp escaping your lips, once he’s on top of you, he starts peppering you with kisses starting with your face, “love was made for me and you doll” he says with a dopey smile, “Romeo and Juliet would be fucking jealous of us” he growls into your skin, the smell of your perfume driving him crazy, his words make you giggle “someone’s drunk” you tease but then you’re cut off, each sound he made as he worshiped your body was intoxicating, you couldn’t focus.

Nipping the crevice of your breasts he marks you, each gentle bite a declaration of his devotion to you, as his warm tongue laps up each mark, your back arches, he wants people to know that you let him own you, you want to be his, he’s completely ruined you for anyone and you’re happy about it. A particular harsh bite makes you gasp, making him preen. Moving down to your stomach, your breath starts to pick up, his kisses are more teeth and tongue, and he knows exactly where to kiss you, he knows your body better than you at this point, he knows how to get you begging for him.

Grabbing you by the ankles he pulls you towards him and takes off your panties before placing your legs on his broad tattooed shoulders, kneading your thick thighs, his fingers dig into your soft skin, Bucky starts leaving a trail of hot open kisses on your legs. Closing in on your core you start to squirm more “stay still sweetheart, I want to make you feel good”, taking a deep breath you grip the sheets, trying not to move too much, “you deserve to feel good baby, you deserve everything good in this world” he moans against your inner thigh “I’m going to give you the world, I promise” he whispers thinking you didn’t hear because of the state of your contorted face, chuckling he dives in.

Multiple orgasms and a two-hour nap later, both of you laid naked, Bucky on his back and your head on his chest with one leg over his waist, sheets crumpled and tossed aside, tracing your back with his finger Bucky stared at the ceiling, there was so much he wanted to say, but you just looked so damn peaceful in your sleep, and as if you read his thoughts, your voice interrupted his train of thought “You have something on your mind” you mumble with a sleepy voice and your eyes closed, in shock, Bucky laughs “how did you know?”, moving up your head to see him, you throw him your best smile “I’m not spilling my secrets just yet”.

You move away from his chest and lean your head on your hand, after he does the same he scrunches his nose “what did I do to deserve you?” he wonders out loud, biting the inside of your cheek you refrain from saying something corny, after a moment of silence “I meant what I said, you deserve the world, and I’m going to give it to you” he claims with a determined look you’ve never seen before, he really means it…

“Our wedding is gonna kick this wedding’s ass” he smirks, which makes you giggle, “you’re gonna get your college degree and be a hot-shot artist… I’ll get my act together, we’re gonna see the world, maybe get you knocked up” he whispers that last part with a wicked grin, your eyes widen, you can’t even picture yourself pregnant right now, but you’re not closed to the possibility. Hearing him talk about the future made you smile from ear to ear, holding his hand you bite your lip “I like the sound of that… but what made you think of all this?”, jumping on top of you he starts attacking you with kisses “I’ve been thinking about this since the moment I saw you sweetheart”, he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, arching your eyebrow, knowing he’s holding back makes him sigh “and also… I got a job offer”.

Love is all that I can give to you

It’d been 10 minutes since you parked outside of the bus station, neither of you spoke… you couldn’t, you’ve been dreading this day since the moment he told you he got a job (which he hasn’t been able to explain what it is exactly) in New York. Those last few months you spent every day together, barely being apart for more than two days, and of course you wanted to beg him to stay but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, deeply afraid of the answer you remained quiet.

Interrupting your train of thought you felt his hand nuzzle in your neck, but you immediately moved away from his touch, making his face drop, shaking your head you bit your lip trying to suppress a sob, with glassy eyes Bucky bit the inside of his cheek, and without even asking he cupped your face tightly, and kissed your forehead, a tear sliding down his face, “I’ll come back for you” he whispered and got out of the car.

You watched him leave you behind, your pride was begging you to start the car and go, but the ache in your heart wouldn’t allow it. Getting out of the car you shouted for him, following him inside you were able to reach him, both of you had red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, and you couldn’t stand the thought of him being sad, even if it was his own doing. Taking a deep breath you took a step closer but still kept arm's length distance… like a stranger, as if you didn’t love him with everything you are, “why are you doing this to us?” you say with a shaky voice, willing yourself not to scream at him, lower lip trembling he tries to take a step closer but you back away, “I’m doing this for us!”, you shake your head, refusing to believe him, “ if you go there won’t be an us” you cry, at that Bucky storms towards you and grips your waist “no matter where we are I’ll always be yours, and you’ll always be mine” he declares, those blue eyes piercing your soul, you knew he was right.

“Every moment we spent together, every touch, every conversation, they.still.matter, whether I’m a bus ride away or in fucking China, no matter how much time passes… there’s no me without you”, searching in his eyes for any lie or doubt you find none, so your hands fly to the back of his neck and you pull him for a passionate kiss.

As your tongues dance with each other, you grip his long hair and his fingers dig into your skin, definetely leaving a bruise for later, you don’t even mind, all you want is for him to stay… “please don’t leave me” you whisper against his lips in a last attempt to convince him, sniffling, he cups your face and musters a small smile, “if I stay, love is all I can give to you… and that’s not enough sweetheart” he pleads, almost letting his voice break, and before you could say anything back he rubs your temples, begging you to listen to him “right before my dad walked out on us, the last thing he said to me was provide, not even take care of your Ma, or look out for your sister, provide… being a shitty mechanic earning minimum wage ain’t gonna cut it anymore, my family deserves better than that, and you ARE my family doll, I need to do this and I need you to trust me”. He takes your hand and kissed your knuckles before placing it in his heart “will you?” he mouths, looking at you like you hold his entire world, and without a second thought you nod.

There’s so much more you want to say but as you checked the clock you knew his bus would leave soon, so you wrapped your arms around him and clung to him, finally letting out a propper sob as you felt him kiss your temple and neck. Staying like that for as long as you could… you being the first to let go, he cups your face like he’s done a million times before and kisses you, noses nudging each other you whisper “I love you Bucky”, nodding with glassy eyes, “I love you” he whispers back and finally walks away.

Two in love can make it

It wasn’t easy, being apart from him… no one really understood why you were so heartbroken “you were barely one year together” they all would say, you couldn’t blame them, saying it out loud, it did sound crazy, maybe it really was a fling, ‘young love’. As the time passed you learned it wasn’t just a fling, four years of college passed and you still had no desire to start a new relationship or even a simple hook up, not that you had many suitors but still, your love for your blue-eyed man never wavered. You stayed in contact, messaging as much as you could, a call at least once a month, they were bread crumbs but they kept you from starving.

Today had been a particularly hard day, you argued with your mom over the dirty dishes, ran out of money so you had to take the bus to work, ran late so you got yelled by your shitty boss, only to get yelled by a shitty customer, spilled hot coffee on yourself and to top it all, you forgot to bring your lunch… so it was safe to say that at the end of your shift you were more than done.

Shop empty, after cleaning everything spotless you went to the back to get your stuff and the sound of someone coming in made your stomach drop “rushing back front to tell them you were closed, your body froze and all words died on your tongue “You believe in love at first sight or should I walk by again?” the bastard said with a knowing smirk, your bad mood disappeared and without thinking twice, you ran towards his open arms, and oomph leaving his mouth as you crashed into him, arms immediately wrapping around his middle and his cradling your head.

Pulling away to get a better look at you he bites his lips “you haven’t aged a bit doll, still just as beautiful as the day I met ya” he says with a hand over his heart, swooning. He hadn’t aged as well, he was still an adonis but he did look different, he looked more buff (if that was even possible), he was wearing a perfectly tailored wide-lapel suit, his hair was cut short, a well-groomed beard around his face (you absolutely loved that) and even more tattoos, the ones on his hands and neck stood out the most for you, he looked impossibly good, he carried the same confidence but power oozed out of him.

Noticing you staring, blue eyes chuckled and took a step forward, the smell of mint- chocolate overwhelmed you, making your knees tremble, and as his face slowly approached yours, you realized that his hands were roaming your frame… “tell me you’re still mine” he breathed out, taking a gulp your hands slid up to his chest, “always Jamie” you desperately nodded, praying he would believe you, “are you?” you timidly asked, “taking a hold of your jaw, face impossibly close and yet not enough he nods “there is no me without you” and before your lips could touch, a man with a gun in hand walks into the shop, you inmediatelly grip Bucky’s arm “Sir we need to get going”, after dismissing him, Bucky turns to you with a pleading look “ready to come home?”, there were so many questions you wanted to ask, and you weren’t really sure if he meant your home, New York or somewhere else, but you went with your gut. Once you closed the shop, you followed him to the limo that was waiting outside, sitting next to him you took his hand and looked into his beautiful cerulean blue eyes, they were the same, you knew they were home, you knew it from the moment you saw him.

[savyindeepspace]

I'm ovulating and can't stop thinking about Zayne 😫 so can you please write oneshot Mc being naughty in public like for example being at the destiny cafe sitting across the room from zayne while he work and she studies but she keeps touching her body and unbuttoing the top buttons of her blouse ( all subtle and mindful that she's in public ofc) and makes inappropriate faces at zayne like full on unhinged horny faces just to tease him ,and acts TOO nice with the waiter , he gets mad and punishes the shit out of her after they go home 😭 I absolutely LOVEE your writing btw 💞

(As always, thank you for your support!You’re in luck, because I’m ovulating too. 😩 oh this is so good, brat tamer Zayne here we go):

It started with your outfit. Low-cut shirt, denim skirt that hugged you tightly and barely covered your ass. The only saving grace were your simple, white sneakers. Zayne swallowed hard when he first laid his eyes on you. Standing in the doorway of your apartment, greeting him like you weren’t wearing sin made of fabric. Strike one. “Heyy, ready for our date?,” you asked with sugar on your tongue. You laced your arms around his neck, planting a long kiss to his lips and letting a small moan slip from your mouth. Zayne straightened his shirt and cleared his throat, ”you’re in a good mood.” Bent over, tying your shoe laces, you looked up at him through thick, fluttering lashes. “Of course I am, I get to see you.” That brought a smile to his lips, but your voice was too low, too honeyed to be casual excitement. The two of you had dinner plans at a new ramen bar in Linkon, then returning to your place for movies and dessert.

It had been weeks since your last date. Akso Hospital had recently became short staffed, which meant Zayne took on more surgeries than normal as the lead cardiac surgeon. He also volunteered to teach a few courses as his old college twice a week. You felt like everyone got more of your boyfriend than you did. He didn’t neglect you entirely, of course. There were phone calls, video chats and he always texted you when he could—but it wasn’t enough for your insatiable needs. A playful desire to antagonize Zayne was heavy on your mind ever since he confirmed tonight’s date. You wanted to watch him squirm, blush, nervously adjust the collar of his shirt—because you knew what came after. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was just as starved for your touch, taste and sounds. So when he saw the cut of your top and the length—or lack—of your skirt, something indecent stirred in his thoughts too.

“You’re staring, Doctor,” you chided, running a finger down his chest. He grabbed your wrist and placed it by your side before releasing a sharp exhale. “This is the first time I’m seeing this outfit. Is it new?” You gave Zayne a slow twirl, “Yuuup, I bet you can’t wait to rip it off of me, huh?” His breath hitched, eyes stretched into a wide stare of disbelief. “Let’s get going, our reservation is at 7:00.” He was a patient man, his career called for a calm peace of mind with zero distractions. When it came to you, however, Zayne felt sucker-punched from every suggestive comment or flirtatious gesture. That kiss alone knocked the wind from his lungs. On your drive to the restaurant, you continued with your acts of torture. “I heard the dessert shop were going to later has all kinds of treats,” you started, giving him a sideways glance. He nodded, replying with an attentive ‘mhmm’. “Yeaaaah. I want something cream-filled, something really messy.” The leather steering wheel creaked beneath Zayne’s grip—his knuckles white and stretched. A coy grin pulled at the corners of your mouth, “what about you, Zaynie?”

He blinked rapidly, keeping his eyes on the road, trying to ignore the way his name dripped off your tongue. “Probably macarons. I’m a creature of habit, I suppose.” You hummed, placing a hand on his thigh, “well, whatever you eat tonight, I’m sure it’ll be delicious.” Zayne adjusted his posture, there was a faint blush creeping up his neck, “perhaps.”

The ramen bar had a low-lit, lounge atmosphere. Lo-fi music hummed through the speakers, other diner’s voices filled the space. It was intimate, especially since you opted to sit in a booth. Your waiter sat you down, handed out menus and explained the evenings drink and meal specials. You leaned across the table, giving him your undivided attention—too much for Zayne’s liking. “You two have any questions?,” the waiter asked. “I think we’re fin—,” “could you tell us the drink specials again…I was distracted,” you cooed. “R-right, umm…all the specials are listed here,” he pointed to the menu a second time, sensing an intense glare burning his skin. “Thank you, handsome,” you purred. Zayne’s body tensed and eyes narrowed just enough for you to notice. “What are you doing?,” he asked low and clipped. “Just asking a question, Zaynie, are you jealous?,” you teased. Strike two.

Your meals arrived shortly after. Two bowls of ramen and edemame to share. The waiter practically ran after setting everything on the table to avoid Zayne’s scornful eyes. You leaned over the table, cleavage spilling over your push-up bra and reached for an edemame bean. Scraping it between your teeth, you let the garlicky oil slide down your lips and chin—all while keeping Zayne’s gaze. “Wipe your face,” he said firmly, handing you a napkin. “Can you help me?,” he sighed, smoothing the cloth over your lips and chin. “Thank you, baby,” you breathed, licking away any remnants. He continued to ignore every poke and prod you gave him, trying to remain composed. The spicy ramen wasn’t the only thing increasing Zayne’s temperature. As he brought a spoonful of broth to his lips, you slowly slid your foot up his calf, higher and higher until the toe of your shoe pressed into his crotch. He choked, coughing mildly on the bit of liquid in his mouth. “What has gotten into you?,” Zayne spat, you looked at him with an innocent gaze and tilted head. “I was hoping you would.” His fingers twitched, almost letting the spoon in his hand hit the table. “Can we get through a meal without you misbehaving?,” authority was heavy in his voice, your thighs pressed together with arousal. “I’m sorry, I just missed you. Promise I’ll stop,” you lied.

The patisserie was only a few minutes away from where you had dinner, so you agreed to walk. Warm and sugary scents wafted over you as you opened the doors. Everything from cakes, pastries and hand made candies filled the glass displays. Zayne’s mood seemed to have lifted being in the presence of his favorite thing—aside from you—sweets. He would buy one of everything of you weren’t so strict about his sugar intake after getting three cavities. “I’ll take a four-pack of your matcha macarons, please,” his gaze fell on you, waiting for your order. “One slice of lemon cake with lavender frosting for me.” The baker smiled and nodded, wrapping both desserts in elegant boxes with pastel colored ribbons. You stood beside Zayne while he paid, rubbing lazy circles on his back. The feathery ministrations sent a shiver up his spine, “ahem—thank you, let’s go,” he stuttered, leading you to the car by your wrist. His skin felt warm to the touch and his pace was hurried. He opened the passenger door, reached across your body and swiftly buckled your seatbelt. “Someone’s in a rush…,” you murmured. Zayne sighed and placed the bag of desserts on your lap before settling into the driver’s seat and turning on the ignition.

In an attempt to keep your mind out of the gutter, Zayne chose a comedy for you both to watch while you ate. “You want to try a bite?,” you asked, seeming innocent enough for Zayne to open his mouth. The fork rested on his tongue, your eyes flickered when his lips wrapped around it—letting out a pleasant hum. “Good right?,” “very good. I never thought those flavors would suit each other so well.” A smear of frosting rested on the corner of his mouth. Without warning, you leaned in and licked it away. Strike three. “Was that really necessary?,” Zayne huffed. “I was just helping, you going to do something about it?” He calmly set down the box of macarons, then turned his body to yours, “over my lap.” Lighting crawled up your spine, but you pushed a little further. “Why?” He pinched the space between his brows before swiftly tugging you over his knees. You yelped, heart fluttering as your body flung forward. “First this outfit, then that waiter, now you won’t cooperate,” your skirt started to lift over the swell of your ass, “I’ve had enough.”

This. This is exactly what you wanted, and you anticipated the first swat across your cheeks—heat already pooling between your legs. Zayne knew, but you always seemed to act like he wasn’t in control at this point, that he could steer your punishment in whatever direction he wanted. His fingers sank into your soaked panties, “I haven’t even done anything and you’re this wet, hm?,” he teased, rubbing your clothed pussy slowly—too slow as a matter of fact. You writhed impatiently, “Z-Zayyyne…,” “don’t complain now, isn’t this what you wanted?,” he slowed his pace even more, almost stopping completely. A choked sob caught in your throat, you wanted to squirm and thrash from the lack of friction. “Please—I’ll b-be good,” you begged. Zayne chuckled and rewarded you with more pressure, “oh? How good?” You buried your face into his lap, “s-so good…mmn.” Smack “I can’t hear you,” he reprimanded, rubbing the stinging handprint blooming on your ass. “So good!” Zayne hummed, sliding his hand back between your thighs. He hooked two fingers into your ruined panties, pulling them to the side. The sudden contact of skin on skin made you flinch. “Do you want these inside? I don’t know if you’ve earned that…you’ve been such a brat all night,” he asked with venom on his tongue, fingers tracing circles into your flesh. A whimper fell from your lips, “please?,” “please, who?,” “p-please, daddy—.”

He slipped inside with ease, his slender digits curled against that sweet and aching spot. “Ah—fuck..,” you whined. “What do we say?,” Zayne cooed, starting with languid pumps. You almost couldn’t speak, to overwhelmed by the sudden intrusion, the delicious friction, being just full enough to clamp around him. Then he stopped, Zayne wouldn’t give you what you wanted until he heard your melodic voice. “I won’t continue until you speak, my love.” “Please, baby. Please don’t stop! I need more!,” you keened, frustrated tears stinging your eyes. A third finger sank inside, pulling the most erotic moan from your lips. Zayne’s cock throbbed, you felt it strain beneath his pants and press into your belly. A mess of slick ran down his forearm, the lewd sight made him groan and plunge his fingers with more fervor. Your breath became ragged and uneven, fingers curling into Zayne’s slacks. “I haven’t even been inside you and you’re already going to cum?,” he chided. A broken moan was all you could muster, but that wasn’t enough for him. Smack! “Y-yes! Gonna—mm, cum…,” you mewled. “Good girl, you sound so desperate, so pretty. Keep talking to me.” God, this was torture. He already had you wrecked, sobbing, dripping down his arm and he wasn’t even close to being done. At this point, Zayne was going to get as many orgasms out of you as he could, until you were dazed and shaking.

He withdrew his fingers and massaged your clit rapidly, giving you no time to think or speak. Your arousal poured down your legs, soaking through Zayne’s pants. Every sound that left your lips was raw, broken, pleading. He held your jaw with one hand, pulling you into a deep, hungry kiss. Your moans tangled around each other, both of you reaching desperation. Zayne turned your body around, your thighs framed his waist, arms lacing around his neck. Soft kisses trailed down your neck and across your collar bone, he drew in a deep breath, hazel eyes rolling back from your perfume. Goosebumps rose on your skin from the way he touched you. Feather-light, but deliberate, grazing his fingertips over every inch of bare skin he could find. “Need to be closer to you,” he rasped, fingers curling into the hem of your top, “need this off—now.” The fabric dragged over your shoulders and head as Zayne disrobed you. He gawked at your breasts that were suffocating under your push up bra, creating the most busty, pillowy cleavage he’d ever seen. You pulled his face into your chest, a deep groan hummed from his throat. “So, soft,” he sighed, palming the plush skin.

He took his time, kissing, licking and biting—finally his fingers worked at the clasp on your back, freeing you to feel every sensation more intensely. Zayne twisted and pinched your hardened nipples, swirling his tongue on both peaks. Your fingers curled into the hair at his nape and you couldn’t stop your hips from grinding against his groin. He let you have this momentary pleasure, this bliss from feeling how hard he was for you, hoping he’d be inside at any moment. “You’re being bold, grinding on my dick like that,” he growled, holding your hips still. “Please—I want you so bad,” you whimpered, face buried in the crook of his neck. “What do you say for teasing me?,” he used his strength to moved you back and forth against his lap. “I-I’m sorry—,” “and for flirting with the waiter?,” his hands cupped your ass, squeezing hard. “Haah–I’m sorry…,” “and saying all those filthy little comments?,” “I’m so, so sorry daddy…” Zayne held your face in his hands, admiring your needy expression, pouty lips and flushed cheeks. His pretty girl, already ruined without even the tip of his cock inside her. He kissed you softly, slowly, lips sweeping over yours with reverence—like the taste of his tongue was a reward. After what felt like ages of edging and torture, Zayne finally reached for his belt. “Hands behind your back. No touching until I say,” he instructed. You nodded eagerly, biting your lower lip. The metal clasp clicked and he pulled the leather restraint from his pant loops. Next came the button, then the zipper, the buzz of its teeth rattled in your ears. He lifted his hips just enough to tug his pants down, the motion pressed his erection into your heat, making your breath hitch.

Zayne watched you squirm and pant as he opened each button of his shirt at an agonizing pace. “Sit still, I’m almost done.” You knew he would match your energy when it came to teasing, but now every little action was fueled with cruelty. You pushed too far tonight, and the smug grin on his lips and restraint in his touch was enough to bring you to tears. He let his dress shirt fall to the carpet, wrapping both arms around you. You both let out a heavy sigh, skin to skin, enveloped in each other’s warmth. “As much as I’d love to stay like this, I’m not finished with you yet,” Zayne murmured low in your ear. He stood, holding you close, your legs wrapped firmly around his waist. Your back sank into the mattress, eyes locked on Zayne’s as he crawled over you—caging you in with his frame. His hips lowered until they were flush with your own, you felt the heavy weight of his cock nudge between your folds. “Zayne—mm. Please don’t make me wait…,” you breathed, lightly running your nails down the planes of his back. For a moment, he softened, brows knitted softly, resolve dissolving.

“Deep breath in,” he purred. You inhaled, eyes fixed on Zayne, he watched your expression melt into something hazy, thankful, lustful. Inch by inch he sank inside your core, it embraced him warmly like he belonged buried deep inside. “Ng—you’re perfect, god….and so fucking wet,” he moaned, the grip of your walls threatened to make him cum just by remaining still. But you needed movement, greedy, selfish fullness that only he could give you. “Hold onto me, just like this,” he spoke with gentle command, locking your arms and legs around his body. The first thrust was slow, the drag of his cock elicited chills that rippled over your skin. “Zayne…more….,” you whispered, breath tickling his neck. The rhythm of his hips increased, filling the air with the wet slapping of skin. You kissed and bit Zayne’s throat, leaving the taste of salt on your tongue. His unique musk invaded your senses, making you purr and gush around his length. He pulled away, watching your mouth fall into a delicate ‘O’ as he pushed your thighs back. “You’re so open for me like this, if only you could see how this pretty pussy swallows me…,” he cooed, rutting into you with heavy thrusts. Heat coiled in your stomach and you swore you could feel his cock there too, digging into you over and over again. Zayne was close and he wanted you to fall with him, to crash into ecstasy, to make a mess of your sheets. You choked on your breath as he massaged your clit with his thumb. Tight, precise circles that made your eyes roll back into your skull. “Mm, yes—feels so good. Don’t s-stop!,” you cried, on the brink of tears. “Look at me, we’re doing this together,” he rasped, hips slamming into yours.

Zayne’s hazel eyes were eclipsed with black, pupils blown with desire. His skin was glowing and dewy with sweat, lips swollen and parted—expelling shaky breaths. “W-want you close—,” you whined, clawing at his back. Your bodies melded together, fitting like puzzle pieces. Zayne rolled his hips, his crown kissed your cervix with every rotation. “Fuck…I can feel everything. You have no idea what you do to me…,” he whispered, attacking your neck with kisses. You tangled your fingers in his raven hair, “I love you, Zayne. You make me feel so—ah..,” “keep talking, angel. Need to hear your voice.” His pace began to stutter, but every rut still hit just the right spot, making your vision go white. “I love it when you use me, how you make me so full. You were made for me, daddy—fuck!” Normally, Zayne was praising you, guiding you through your climax, but the roles were unexpectedly reversed. A low, guttural growl erupted from his chest and with a final thrust, you both burst like a dying star. It was overwhelming, raging through you like a torrent, white hot and unrelenting. You spilled arousal, soaking your connected bodies and the sheets beneath. Zayne slowly withdrew from inside, you winced as his inches abandoned your core. His lips pursed against your jaw, neck and shoulder. He slid down your frame, pecking every inch of skin. His mouth feathered over each breast and down your stomach. He kissed your lower lips and inner thighs, making you sigh heavily. “So, so perfect, angel. Every part of you,” he praised, voice soft, saccharine, reverent.

He mirrored his worship from your thighs to your mouth, slotting your lips together, slipping his warm tongue inside. He tasted like honey and salt, you moaned and whimpered as your lips slowly overlapped. “You’re mine, even when you tease me. Even when you act like a brat,” he murmured before sinking his teeth into your neck. “I know, Zaynie. I just like it when you remind me.”

He hummed, rolling on his back and pulling you to his chest. You laid there for a beat, appreciating the sound of your matched breaths and the tandem of your beating hearts.

“Yes, and I’ll remind you every day if I have to.”

*~*~*~*

Whewww, this turned into a longer one-shot than I anticipated. But what can I say, I love Zayne. 😩

[queersyourgender]

Hi! I was looking at some of your old posts and noticed that you don't always like writing x reader, so please do whatever makes you happy.

I'm on a hurt comfort kick. I'd love to see a story with reader x Jack or Rabbot. But maybe something where reader or Jack or whoever gets sick but has a hard time letting down their guard. Not because they're stubborn but more because they're embarrassed. And obviously they see sick people all the time but when it's them, they just feel so vulnerable and shut down. (Bonus inspiration: forehead touches or kisses to check for fever. Just so soft and gentle and comforting. Im in my feels tonight lol)

We Love You — Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x GN!Reader x Jack Abbot

Notes: Hi, bun! Don't worry about me in that regard, I'm starting to get more control over how I feel about it and what requests I accept or reject. Just send your reqs in without fret and maybe I'll write it, tha's all! I hope this is what you were wanting to read— enjoy!!

———

You're laying in bed alongside your partner Robby, still lost somewhere in the limbo space between half- awake and half-asleep when a loud crash that comes from somewhere within your apartment jolts you out of said reverie and has you, and Robby, both bolting upright in the bed.

A quick glance at the phone you have on your nightstand shows you that it's 5 AM, as in, it's far too early for Jack to be back from nightshift. Before either of you could fear the worst, though, a loud and resounding “ah, fuck!” sounds out, and it's familiar enough to calm both your racing hearts almost immediately.

It's definitely Jack, but what on earth would he be doing back so early? Jack damn near never left early, always dutifully waiting to provide handovers to the dayshift, especially if it was his darling Robby whom he expected to see that morning. And yet, as he cusses from their kitchen, it's most certainly him back home.

You and Robby share baffled, throwing yout blanket off both of your persons and swinging your feed off the mattress. Getting up off the bed, you both walk around quietly, knowing good and well Jack would hear you regardless of how loud you make your footsteps. “Jack? That you?” Robby asks aloud, but…

All he receives in return is a loud series of violent coughing.

Now, you're both properly worried, racing to the kitchen where the commotion seems to be coming from together. Before you is a sight that stops you in your tracks— Jack standing over a bunch of boxes of tupperware he'd clearly been trying to wash and organize with his face flushed and lined with a layer of glistening and shining sweat.

His eyes look glazed over and his form is haggard, shoulders sagged and back hunched over as he crouches to the ground and tries to pick the boxes back up. Even just that motion has him swaying heavily and unsteadily, his hands missing the contrainers he eaches for by miles in his hazy state.

Instantly, you and Robby are at your lover's side, and you gently take Jack's face into your hands. “Oh my God, baby, you're burning up!” You can't help but exclaim, feeling the heat radiate off of him in waves as his head practically singes the palms of your hands while you wipe his curls off his sticky forehead.

“‘M fine,” Jack tries to insist, waving you off and trying to reach for the boxes again, only to stop short at the realization that Robby had already picked them all up and put them back on their respective shelves while he was distracted. With a short glare, he stands back up, pretending he doesn't latch onto you for balance. “Stop babying me, it's enough they sent me home.”

Robby reaches for his face next, carefully taking his temperature with the back of his hand and shaking his head at the results. “Jack, you really are feverish,” he mutters softly, unhappily, as he pulls the man into his arms and holds him carefully. “How long have you been toughing it out, you idiot?”

Jack grumbles something unintelligible as Robby guides him through the apartment back to the bedroom you two had just come out of. He gives you a short nod while he's walking, and you're already on top of it, taking out the ingredients to make some soup for your ill partner while Robby delivers him to the bed to rest.

“Stop it, I said I'm fine,” he tries to argue again, but he fails miserably, especially as Robby forces him to sit down and kneels at his feet to carefully take his prosthetic off him. The vulnerability of it all renders him utterly silent as his clouded but affectionate eyes watch Robby put a hand on his chest to lay him back and press a kiss to his forehead. “You two are too much.”

“We love you,” is all Robby says in return, and Jack smiles softly, relentingly letting his eyelids fall shut.

[angclone]

sending in my first ever request for your birthday— woo happy birthday, mads !! thinking maybe i’d throw some bob reynolds your way bc he’s my baby. i need some bob à la your beautiful mind.

thinking of combining “jealous? who, me? impossible” *is seething with rage and jealousy* (because jealous!bob is underrated as hell) and “you have no idea how badly i need you” for the prompts

take it in whatever direction you want— i’ll love fluff, smut, angst, all of the above, none of the above… whatever comes naturally ! unless that’s stressful, then dm me and i’ll think of something xx

thank you ! happy writing, and happy birthday, lovie <3

ahhh, hi kate! thank you so much for the sweet words and birthday wishes <3 i love a good jealousy trope, but this one did not go where i thought it would. it's allll fluff and i hope you enjoy!

send in a request for mads’ birthday drabble celebration!

Something ugly twists in Bob's chest as he watches you through the window of the coffee shop. You had just stepped inside to grab your pickup order when someone else stopped you — someone tall, handsome, normal… And Bob, jaw clenched, can't tear his gaze away as you laugh at something they say. It's a quick exchange, and then you're walking back outside, smiling at Bob now as you pass him a small cup of tea.

His fingers linger over yours as he takes the cup, and he struggles to return an uneasy smile. "Who was that?" he asks, and it was meant to be casual, but you hear the underlying tone.

Your eyebrows raise, and you glance back over your shoulder for a moment. "That guy?" you ask, shrugging. "I don't know — he just made some joke about the wait."

"Oh," Bob lets out a breathy chuckle, but his expression is still sour. "Must've been funny."

You tilt your head, brows furrowed, and you reach out to nudge Bob's shoulder. "Careful, Bobby," you tease, "You're sounding a little jealous."

He laughs. “Jealous? Who, me?" He doesn't meet your gaze, though, as his empty hand drops to your lower back, attempting to guide you back into your walk to his apartment. "Impossible," he grumbles.

But you don't move as he tries to lead you down the sidewalk.

"Oh," you realize, and you duck your head to catch a glance at his face. "You are jealous."

He shakes his head, scoffing, "No…"

You set your coffee down on the window ledge of the shop and reach up to cup Bob's cheeks in your palms. Lips tight, he allows his gaze to meet yours.

And you smile softly, "You have no idea how badly I need you, huh?"

Your voice is low, adoring, and it pushes away that ugly feeling in Bob's. He shuts his eyes tight before opening them again and scanning your features.

"I just…" he mumbles, "You deserve someone who makes you laugh like that all the time."

"What?" you whisper, and then you speak more firmly, "Bob, you make me laugh. You — you make me laugh the most. And it's not about that, even — it's you, Bob. I need you."

You step on the tip of your toes to press a quick kiss to his nose, his cheeks, and then his lips. And Bob can't help but smile, the tension dissipating from his shoulders at your words and sweet gesture.

"You're it," you tell him, "You're mine."

And he chuckles as you give him another kiss before agreeing, "Yours, got it."

[nenoname]

me: oh i totally get it if some folks dont jive with same coin theory, plus it's strange to conceptualise at first--

me when i see people call it lame:

[takaraphoenix]

My "there is only one bed" Stalion fic is currently 18k long.

I am still not done with it.

It is honestly ridiculous how incapable I am of keeping short concepts short.

Send help 💜

[gardensnakie]

How’s life? No pressure question ofc, but if you want to share please feel free to do so with this ask :3

Eh, it doesn't feel all that great right now. I'm tired and hungry a lot, but I just have to get a routine together. My sleep has been wonky, I've been waking up too early, but I feel fine then but it also feels like I can't rest completely- I have dreamless nights mostly. And I also just get annoyed a lot, but it feels better being around people I like.

[sskk-manifesto]

!

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star

Art in the banner by Kerravi on x!

Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!?

Warnings- Toxic attraction, jealousy, arguments, very emotional, fighting and break ups, reader being depressed and emotional, Jenna being protective, Nanami giving no fucks, Satoru being contemplative and slightly less stupid, fingering, sexual tension, light choking, public play, squirting, reader is better at feelings finally, and A LOT more angst WC this chap- 11k

A/N- Taglist closed- this chap is ANGSTY you've been warned, please comment/rb if you enjoy <3

<<<Chapter Four - Masterlist- Playlist- Chapter Six>>> (coming soon)

Chapter Five

“Nanami, you didn’t have to…” Nanami Kento is at your front door with two coffees in hand, smiling that handsome smile, eyes behind his dark green glasses.

“No worries, love. I was passing by and remembered bringing you home, I realized it’s right here.”

“Thank you!” You lean forward and press a kiss on his cheek, the guilt eating at you slowly.

What if he knew you did a fucking porn shoot the other day?

He knows your situation, but what would he think of that, in fact what do you think of that? Of yourself, as Jenna said, changing for Satoru? He’s never pushed you into anything, and these things were all brought on by your own self interest - of wanting to be just everything for him so that he would not stray. It was selfish of you, knowing his career.

You knew he wasn’t interested in more, but let yourself live in the delusion, the thoughts that you could be enough to fill all of the voids there, when in fact he has made his own thoughts clear. He loves spending time with you, he loves fucking you, the two of you make excellent money - triple last time actually - so for Satoru, it’s clearly a convenient situation.

Nothing more.

Not having seen Satoru for a couple days, he texted you several times through- out the day, he called you before bed, it all felt too good, too natural, too perfect for his perceived friendship, the one that you were honestly ruining with how you are. You wish you could be normal about it all, that you could just enjoy whatever this was, but her words keep ringing in your mind.

Losing yourself.

Are you?

“This is my favorite,” you say as you take a sip, gesturing your head for him to come in then. “I just stress baked some muffins, want some?”

“Stress baked?” He asks, amused now, and you giggle a bit, sighing.

“Mmm, yes I do that.” He eyes the kitchen counter, with about thirty six muffins already on it, of different flavors. “Take some actually.”

“What do you do with all of these?” He grabs one and sets his coffee down on your counter then.

“I bring them to all of the neighbors, they love me.” He chuckles, the sound throaty and inviting, biting into one and moaning, shutting his eyes.

“They’re so good,” he’s licking a bit off his lower lip, and you smile, grabbing one and nibbling yourself. “You look like that, work hard and bake?”

“You’re giving me too much credit.” He bites again, raising a brow.

“Seems like quite a woman to me.”

“Nanami!” You playfully shove his chest a little, and he takes your hand, it feels so warm and good, swallowing your much smaller hand in his. You enjoy it, you just wish you felt something like you did with the elusive pornstar you’re hopeless for.

“Would you like to-” the doorbell rings, you smile as you drop your hand.

“Let me grab that,” he nods, sipping his coffee, when you open the door, and see Satoru leaning in the doorway, coffees in his hands. “Oh!”

“Got your favorite, sweets.” He steps in, leaning his tall self down to kiss your cheek, when he catches sight of Nanami in your kitchen.

Shit.

“You got company?” His tone is strained, and you wonder why - he clearly had been a little irritated about your date, but it’s not like he’s made a step for you all to go further. And you’re too fucking scared to bring it up and lose this.

“He stopped by to bring me coffee. Looks like I’ll be well caffeinated." You smile, but Satoru’s blue eyes are darting across your shoulder at the buff man leaning against your counter.

“Muffin?” Nanami’s words make Satoru unreasonably furious, how comfortable and at ease he looks in your kitchen.

“I’d love one.” He steps past you, you’re closing the door, the tension as Satoru steps in is far too palpable, it seems to amuse Nanami more.

Nanami hands Satoru one, and he yanks it from his hand, biting it and setting down his cup, moaning and shutting his eyes then. “Aren’t they yummy?”

“Fuck,” he moans again, looking at you now. “You bake this good?”

“Stress baking, that's all.” You smile a little, standing between the two men that just tower over you, Satoru is taller by a few inches, his head isn’t far from your ceiling actually, spiked up white hair precariously close to brushing against the textured white paint above you. “Nanami was in the neighborhood.”

“Was he?” He nibbles one again, smirking over at Nanami, who casually takes a bite.

“I thought I’d see her, ask her on another date.” Satoru’s jaw tenses, and you wonder if this is the moment he’ll finally say something.

“Oh, another date? Second date, huh?” His tone is feigning ease, but it’s so clearly not at ease at all.

“Mmhmm, maybe this weekend?” He brushes a lock of your hair back from your bare shoulder, and you smile. “Lunch?”

“I can have lunch.” It’s not like Satoru is gonna-

“I’m taking her to lunch tomorrow.”

“You are?” He glares at you.

“Yes, I was coming to ask you to come to lunch with me, actually.”

“Were you… well, what about Sunday?” Nanami asks, and you smile brightly up at him.

“Sunday works for me.”

“Perfect. I’ll leave you to hang with your friend,” his tone hints he knows exactly what type of friend Satoru is, but he’s clearly unbothered, kissing your cheek and leaning down. “Text you later?”

“Absolutely.” You walk him out then, feeling vivid blue eyes glaring fucking daggers in your back. You pause, locking the door, hearing the silence in your home, aside from the whirring of the old air conditioner cooling the home the best it can in the heat, and Satoru’s sigh.

“He’s awfully friendly.” He mumbles, and you turn to him now, hands behind your back as you walk slowly, feet padding along your tile.

“He’s very nice, yes. But it was also nice of you to bring me this. Thank you, Satoru.” You say softly, smiling up now, a hand on his arm, just for him to tug you  against his chest. You gasp at it.

“He’s too comfortable here, don’t you think?” His whisper is low, as he leans down, an arm on either side pressing you into the counter now, as his hard thigh slips between your softer ones.

“You’ve only been here once, and you’re comfortable too,” his brows lower, you gasp as your heat presses on his hard thigh now, he senses how good it feels to you, clearly, one hand slipping up your spine. “Satoru…”

“God I want you so bad, don’t you know?” He murmurs, kissing you then, it’s a harsher kiss than you’re used to, the hand slipping under your thin silk top, making you shiver while you soak his thigh, your hands slipping up his chest. “Look so fucking beautiful.”

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly, pulling back now to look up at him, feeling how tense he is.

“I need a reason? Did he?”

“Of course you don’t need a reason, but what’s he got to do with anything? Who I go out with, what’s it matter?”

“What’s it matter!?” He can hardly believe your words, in no world did Satoru Gojo see anyone else, so fucking blinded by you. Was it not the same?

“We’re not together, are we?” You’re silently begging for him to say something, but instead he pulls back, heart racing under the palm that drops now.

“I don’t want to see anyone but you, to fuck anyone but you, isn’t this… isn’t this something you want? Just with me?” He’s cupping your face, kissing you again, hungry, desperate, making your lips swell with his kisses. “Me fucking your pretty pussy till you pass out?”

You whine out, how can you not do so when he’s slipping a hand down, over your breast, making your nipple taut against his warm, hard palm, that’s gripping and squishing your breast. “Mnh but…”

“Don’t you want me to bury my face against that perfect cunt?” He’s touching you there, you can hardly breathe, it’s all Satoru, making you dizzy.

“I didn’t say I… mnh!”

“So wet, for me? All me?” He’s making your panties soaking wet with his long fingers, pulling back with glossy lips to watch your pretty eyes roll back. “Is that all for me?”

“You’re acting…” he’s got you trembling, soaking the cotton panties now, pressing your thighs together. “Satoru stop.”

He does immediately, pulling back in confusion. “What’s wrong? Did I kiss too rough? I'm sorry I…”

“No, just,” you cross your arms, hugging yourself, looking away. “Does it always have to be sexual?”

Satoru stands there, his own vermillion lips swollen from kissing you, his breaths coming hectic as he stares down at you. “What do you mean, always sexual?”

“That's all we do. Did you come here to fuck me?”

He laughs harshly, a sound you haven’t heard from him then. “I came to see you, just like the last time, you’re the one who said ‘let’s fuck’.” His words smack you with reality.

You had.

To try to save your fucking feelings, but all you did was fall deeper, deeper into him, the abyss that’s Satoru Gojo, the man you want all the time, but not just sexually. You want him near you, next to you, waking up in the morning and making him breakfast, and not just for him to leave to his penthouse after.

You want way too much.

“I did say that, but then we did have sex. So was I wrong?” His jaw tenses, he slips two fingers under your chin then, forcing your gaze on him.

“Do you want to be with him?” You glare at his ridiculous words now.

“I never said that, but would it matter? We are just ‘friends’ hmm?” Your words are harsh, way too harsh for the sweet girl he knows, and he feels it, the anger rising inside of him, making him so furious at the thought of someone with you.

“So, you’re gonna what, go fuck him?”

“Is that who you think I am!?” He gives a nasty little smirk, it’s a cruel one, something you’ve never seen on his face.

“You had no problem sleeping with me, not knowing me.” You step back, and the moment it spills from his lips, he knows he’s wrong, but he’s so fucking furious, he’s blinded to any good fucking reason. The hurt written on your pretty face is enough to make him feel like getting swallowed whole.

“I trusted you, I felt comfortable with you, the connection I…” you trail off, not wanting to make a bigger fool of yourself. “It wasn’t just random. You really think that’s what it was? A random hot guy I said - huh, let me call him and fuck him?” He tilts his head now, brows lowering.

“Isn’t that what it was, you saw my stream and wanted me? Now you think I’m making it all sexual?” You gasp, teeth clenched, almost unable to breathe you’re so fucking furious.

“You’re trying to fuck me because you’re jealous, so yes, that is making it all sexual. Surprised your phone’s not filming.” You shove at his chest and he grips your wrists, leaning low.

“So what, you got all the expertise you needed? Gonna go apply it to someone now?” Satoru’s words are so hurtful you can’t take it, you feel your heart pounding in your ears as you look at blue eyes gone cold.

“Excuse me, you think I used you for experience!?” He raises a brow then, while your hands clenched into fists at your sides as you drag them from his grip.

“You asked me for experience, remember? Weren’t you the one who started all of this, made it sexual? Asked me to show you things?”

His words resonate through your head until it spins, you have to sit down you feel so fucking sick then. Was he never even interested in you? Was this all you who caused it, who pushed it, when he never wanted it? The thoughts swirl through your mind quicker and quicker, nauseating, you shake your head and blink back tears then, looking up at him.

“I should never have pushed myself on you,” he blinks snowy lashes then, lips parting. “No, I shouldn’t have, you’re right.”

“I didn’t mean it that-”

“I am sorry I did, I’m sorry I asked for that. I was so pathetic.” You barely hold back a cry, and Satoru’s frozen, you have it so wrong, don’t you know his dick literally doesn’t work for anyone!? Don’t you know you’re all he can fucking think of, constantly, every waking moment?

“You never pushed yourself, ever,” he leans down, arms on either side of your chair. “Look at me.”

You do just that, and your tears break him. “What?”

“I didn’t mean it like I didn’t want you, I did. I just meant you crossed the line to make it sexual, that’s not to say I didn’t want to, but you were a good girl.”

“Were. Being the key word. Now I’m what, some pornstar fucking booty call?” You’re shaking your head, swiping at your cheeks, thinking of Jenna’s words. “And it’s all my own doing.”

You’ve lost yourself.

“Baby you’re still a good girl, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You’re right, you never would have hit me up for it, would you have?” Satoru pauses then, hands gripping the arms of your chair so tightly his knuckles whiten.

“I never said that!”

“Why would you, it’s Hollywood, you can have anyone, I just inconvenienced you, I should have never tried to join your world.” You’re standing now, brushing past him, he grips your wrist, his own emotions rising - especially one - panic.

He can’t lose you.

“It’s not what I meant,” he brushes his hand across your cheek, sticky already with your tears, feeling your body tremble as he holds you closer. “I shouldn’t have said it that way, I was just upset.”

“It’s true, don’t take it back now.”

“You think I don’t want you!?” He’s gripping your upper arms, shaking you gently, you’re sniffling, shaking your head as he stares at you in disbelief. “How can you think I don’t?”

“Maybe you felt sorry for me.” Satoru laughs then, before fucking glaring down at you.

“That’s the last thing I fucking feel,” he leans down until his lips are just a breath away from yours. “I want you so badly, constantly, why do you think I just showed up to your work, asked you out, begged to come over?”

“To film things.” He blinks like he’s been slapped.

“You think that’s it?”

“Some fun maybe, I think I am the one who took this seriously, when I started it from the beginning.”

It all hits - you are the one who asked him for more, and now you’re upset it’s just sexual, when you knew. You always knew. You knew your feelings, you knew you couldn’t handle this, but it was all you could have of him, and you were selfish, so selfish. And so in love.

“I wanted you that moment I met you, did you forget our kiss?” He whispers softly, fingers brushing your hair back, making you tremble.

“It’s only sex?” You ask hoarsely, he falters then.

“I enjoy you much more than that.”

“As a friend?” Satoru can’t speak then, he just stands there, staring down at you, swiping more of those tears from your cheeks, your lip is trembling. “Satoru, I feel like I don’t know myself anymore.”

“What do you mean? You’re so uniquely yourself. Nerdy, cute, adorable,” he’s smiling with those plump lips, as if that would cheer you up, avoiding the blatant question you gave him. “You are like no one I know.”

“I’m trying so hard to please you, that I’m forgetting.” He blinks again, so clearly confused, not seeing the numerous ways you have been bending yourself, molding yourself to fit him. Maybe he doesn’t see the change, maybe he just doesn’t know, but Jenna was so right, she was absolutely correct.

You don’t remember who you are, trying to be everything for Satoru, and he can’t even tell you if it’s more than a friendship.

The hurt tears its way into your chest, it’s unfair of you to ask him, to demand anything more of him, it’s not fair. You did all this, caused all this, you can’t be mad at him for being him, a pornstar. You’ve let your fear of not being enough make you do things you never would, and it’s all starting to sink in, everything you’ve done with him, like it’s not even you anymore.

You let being so selfish for him change you.

You’re sobbing now, and Satoru’s unsure of what to do, he doesn’t know your inner turmoil, but he does know seeing you cry makes him deeply emotional, it breaks his heart to see you hurt. He hugs you closely, as you cry against his suit jacket, sniffling and shaking, while he rubs a hand up and down your back.

“What is it? Is it what I said? I didn’t mean it that way, I’m sorry… I just…” You shake your head, sniffling and leaning back, looking up at a face you’ve fallen so deeply in love with.

“I’m losing myself.” You’re breaking down again, this time leaning back. “What you said was right.”

“It wasn’t, it was mean and… I’m sorry, please.” He feels his own emotions choking him, throat closing up as he struggles to take a breath, feeling the suffocation of his own mistake.

“I’ve acted that way.” He shakes his head, blinking back his own tears as you cover your face, breaking down right in front of him. “The fuck have I been doing, I called you.”

“I’m glad you called me-”

“I asked you.”

“I wanted you too. I was so fucking-”

“I fell in love like a fucking idiot, when you were honest from the beginning who you are.” Satoru pauses then, heart hammering as you turn away, but not before he glimpses how puffy your cheeks have gotten from your tears.

“You what?” He whispers, and you shake your head, swiping at your tears, shoulders shaking with the wracking sobs.

“I shouldn’t have tried to join your world, and then I was so dumb I got jealous,” he touches your shoulder feeling you tense.

“Jealous, you?” You laugh through your tears, truly fucking losing it, as you nod, looking back at him, and he sees the reddened eyes, the sticky drying tears, you bit your lip so hard it’s tearing the skin.

“Yes, very. I’m selfish and so dumb. It’s your career. I promised never to judge it either, and for what, you to judge me.” The anger sets back in, throwing his hand off and turning now. “You need to go.”

“I need to go!?” You nod, sniffling as you bite down harder, the motion jerky when he pulls you against him. “No, I am not leaving you like this.”

“I won’t be your pornstar anymore,” your words strike their chord, they hit him right in the stomach, as he barely processes your earlier words in the haze you have him in. “That’s all you want.”

“It’s not! You wanted that!”

“No, I just wanted to be enough.” At your last broken word, you can hardly face him, he tugs you against him and you’re stiff, unmoving.

“You’re more than enough for anyone,” his soft words end you, the sweet Satoru you met that night is there, but he’s hurt you so badly now, the sinking realization that you confessed your love and he hasn’t even acknowledged it. He’s stroking your back gently, letting you cry against him. “We never have to shoot, I told you that.”

“But you’ll fuck other women?” Your words are harsher than he’s used to from your sweet lips, he buries his face in your neck, swallowing.

“I don’t want anyone else, haven’t I made it clear?” He’s hoarse, his own tears falling along your neck.

“But you’ll go back to it, you’ll have to.” You grip the shirt he’s wearing, crumbling the expensive material. He swallows, sighing then.

“I won’t want them.”

“But you’ll have to.”

“It’s my career,” he pulls back, sighing as he watches your broken face. “You seemed to enjoy it, what’s changed so much?”

“I didn’t enjoy it, I enjoyed you. Now I don’t know what I think of myself.” You’re blinking the rapid tears, shaking your head again, as if to make them stop.

He never loved you, did he?

“Maybe you should be an actor, you made me believe there was more,” Satoru scowls at you now, tugging you against his chest, cupping your face with his other hand tightly. “Stop.”

“I do care so much, god you’re all I want. I literally can’t even fuck anyone else.”

“So your dick cares for me?”

“That’s not what I said! You wanted all of this, how are you going to be mad at me for giving it to you!?” You laugh again, the sound so hollow, as Satoru feels his heart breaking.

“I can’t just fuck you. Clearly. And I knew it, I knew I needed feelings, I knew I’d fall - I’m a fucking idiot.”

“You’re not!”

“I am. Satoru, I can never do this again, it’s breaking me apart,” you hold your stomach, as his blue eyes drip with tears, and you want nothing more than to be in his arms. “I can’t just have sex with you.”

“I don’t want anyone else, how fucking clear can I make it!?” You smack the hands that try to brush your tears, earning his glare, blue eyes a storming blue, so vivid it’s painful to look at. “I want you, I didn’t mean what I said. You’re just done with this because of some words?”

“I’m done because I can’t take this pain anymore.”

“Pain?” You take several breaths, hands shaking as you try and fail to stop the onslaught of tears. “What pain? I’ve done nothing but make you cum, like no one ever fucking will.”

“It’s sexual, see? Is that all shit is to you!? I’m not just a body.”

“It’s not just your body-”

“It seems that way. No, I won’t fuck Nanami, okay? If that’s your very weird fucking concern, considering after I swallowed your spit you did a gang bang, and after we fucked you fingered a girl on cam.” Satoru scowls deeper at you, as you finally let it all out, everything you’ve acted fine with.

“That’s my job! You fucking knew that!”

“I thought I meant something.” He pulls you by your wrists again, you jerk them out of his hold, hyperventilating.

“Calm down, fuck I didn’t mean it.”

“Your smirk… the way you… no, you meant it. You think that’s who I am? Then you never fucking knew me!”

“I don’t know you!?”

“You know my body, that’s not enough.” He’s kissing you again, and for a moment you falter, as he’s overtaking your lips.

“I want more than your body,” his words fall flat, you can’t believe him anymore, not after what he accused you of. “I want more. I enjoy you, fuck why can’t I keep enjoying you? Why are you overthinking everything!”

“Mmm, no.” You pull back again, shoving at his chest, he’s crying right with you, and you want to stop this, let him do anything he wants, but it hurts too fucking much, nothing should hurt this much. “I can’t have pieces of you.”

“I’m right here, use me, all of me.” He’s trying again to kiss you, but you’re pulling back, making him glare. “Now you’re done with whatever experiment you were fucking doing?”

You gasp. “I should ask you that!” You smack at his hand, making him grip your wrist again, both of your chests heaving. “Turning the nerdy good girl into a pornstar? That some twisted 90s rom com!?”

“The fuck, I didn’t make you do shit, it’s been your choice!”

“I regret it.”

The words are enough to make him step back, his eyes going cold. “What?”

“I regret filming it.” You do, and you hate that you do. You see him swallow, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, his own hands shaking. “I don’t regret you, I don’t regret the moments, aside from me pushing myself on you, for that I am sorry, but I do feel horrible about myself now.”

“I gave you the choice, you hit share.”

“To please you. To make you need me, want me, to keep you. Selfish, stupid,” you shake your head again, chest tight as you rub it, blood pressure through the fucking roof as it all comes out, everything you kept inside. “I don’t blame you, you always asked permission, consent, all of it. This is on me.”

“So we never do it again, I don’t need it to fuck you, I don’t care if you film it again-”

“It’s your career.”

“I want you.” The words should feel good, the way he cups your face and looks at you, it should mean more, but you’re far too deep in your feelings to be okay with him just wanting you.

You forgot who you were.

“This isn’t me,” you say softly, cupping his face then. He shuts his eyes, snowy lashes dripping with tears. “I can’t be this anymore, it’s not me.”

“People change, why regret what you enjoy? Why regret doing something that made you-”

“I feel awful that I did it.”

“Shit…” He takes a breath, feeling responsible for your broken words, as you stroke his cheek, trembling in front of him.

“You didn’t do it, it’s not your fault. I’m disappointed in myself, I should have known I couldn’t handle it all. You with other women,” you look down, hand falling. “It was selfish.”

Satoru doesn’t know what to say, what to do besides kiss your forehead, holding you close to him. “I feel like you’re fucking ending things.”

“I am.” He freezes now.

“We don’t have to film!?”

“I can’t. I can’t do this. It’s not fair to either of us,” he says your name, quietly, earning you looking at him as you step back. “I will never regret what we did, I just regret trying to make myself something I wasn’t.”

“Don’t do this, don’t end a good thing? For what?” He’s shaking your shoulders, as if trying to drag some sense into you.

“I caused it all.”

“You didn’t, I’m sorry I-”

“I need to be alone.”

Your next words break him, he stares at you with wide eyes. “What?”

“I need to be alone. I’m sorry.” You walk to the door, he is behind you then, hand on yours over that knob, hard body behind you, his other arm wrapping around your waist now. “Satoru…”

“Don’t kick me out of your life,” he’s pleading, he feels so pathetic then, standing behind you and resting his head on the cool door over your head, taking a breath. “I don’t want this to stop, to end. I wanted you from the moment I saw you at that damn party.”

“But now I’m not that girl,” you’re shaking, as his hand tightens over yours. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”

“You’re still her, what do you mean!?”

He doesn’t understand.

“I am glad I met you, Satoru Gojo. I have never met anyone like you, and I probably never will.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Thank you for being so thoughtful, so caring,” you’re choking on your sobs, looking behind your shoulder up at him as he cups your face. “Thank you for being so many of my firsts.”

“Don’t thank me,” his words are harsh, as he kisses you again, and you fall into them so sweetly, whining into his lips. “Don’t push me away.”

“I have to find myself again, and I can’t like this.”

“I just don’t understand.”

“I know.” It’s quiet, as he kisses you again, letting you go and shaking his head. “I’m sorry for all of this.”

He says nothing else, letting you turn the knob, rushing out without another word, as you turn and rest your back against the door, sliding down and collapsing on the fucking floor, devastated. It’s like your heart is ripped into pieces, sending the man you love away, when he fucking begged to stay.

You feel horrible, his crying eyes and the way he asked you not to, but how the fuck can you keep going like this!? Even then, he didn’t bring up being more, he didn’t say ‘I love you too’ as if wanting you physically was enough. But for him, that’s what this was, it was what you brought up, so enamored by your feelings, you thought you could have him sexually and it would be enough.

It would never be enough for you.

Curled into a ball on the floor, you don't move for hours, the sun setting through the blinds and casting its shadows across the floor as you hold your stomach and just sob. It's late when you finally pull yourself up, seeing the numerous calls from him, over and over, but you don't call him back, you can't anymore. Instead, you call your friend who's also called you a good five times.

“Jenna?”

“Baby what's wrong!?”

“Can you come over?”

*****

Jenna holds you that night as you keep apologizing, you were an awful fucking friend, damn near kicking her out in some hopes that she was so wrong, for Satoru to prove her right - only worse. Never once did Jenna herself think he would say what you sob to her then, she thought Satoru was a good person, just an industry standard, but never spiteful.

“Shit baby,” she murmurs, as you hiccup, hugging her tightly as you lay on your couch, take out and wine along your living room table. “I wish I wasn’t right.”

“He accused me of… wanting to use him!? I never… Jenna I never…”

“Shh.” She’s trying to calm you down, but you’re so fucking devastated, every time the phone rings and you want to answer it, she holds you tighter. “You can’t just give in and be treated like that.”

“I was slutty, going to him.”

“You were curious about your feelings.”

“I… yes…” You rub tissues on your sore nose, sipping your cheap wine and sighing, looking at your beautiful friend. “I loved him when I met him, Jenna.”

“I know,” she sips her own wine, frowning. “I wish I warned you more.”

“You didn’t know I would fall like this. It’s all my own doing.”

“Is it? He knew you were innocent.” You shake your head, sighing and leaning back against the couch, resting a hand on her thigh now.

“I was a bitch to you.”

“You were just hurt, fucked up on him. I forgive you.” She takes your hand, and tugs you into another hug. “He’s so good I almost fell fucking him.”

“Jenna!” You glare playfully, then laugh, for the first time since you had to send him away. She shrugs.

“It’s his pussy eating skills.”

“Jenna it’s so not that.”

“They gaslight you.” You playfully shove her then, laughing and standing up, grabbing both glasses.

“Will you stay tonight? Have more wine?”

“You know I will.” You smile and lean down, pecking a kiss on her cheek. “Don’t fall in love with another pornstar.”

“I’ve always loved one.” You tease, something feels relieving, despite the love in your fucking heart, to release all those feelings, to speak them out loud. “I’ll make us some popcorn on the stove.”

“I’ll find a movie!” As you walk out to the kitchen, your phone rings, Jenna fuck-you buttons it, glaring at the picture of Satoru.

She cannot stand that he hurt her best friend like that, and she’s not gonna be very fucking nice if she sees him again.

It keeps ringing, over and over, when she finally picks it up, walking out to your balcony. “Stop calling her,” Jenna’s voice is on the phone, Satoru laughs harshly, after being so excited to speak to you, it’s your protector. “I’m serious.”

“She’s a grown woman, not a little girl.” He says, and she scoffs.

“She sure is, but guess what? She was innocent, Satoru, innocent before you got her into this fucking world.”

“It was her decision!”

“Because she’s in love with you, fucking idiot!”

“She’s…” He trails off, he could swear at this point he imagined that confession in the middle of the argument, the ‘break up’. Where you broke his fucking heart in ways he didn’t know it could be.

“She did it to please you, she said she’d lose herself to be anything for you.” Jenna’s furious, quiet words break Satoru down. “You’re the experienced one, she was damn near a virgin.”

“She chose-”

“You shouldn’t have offered. You shouldn’t have changed her, she was perfect the way she was! Now she hates herself.”

“Jenna, I…”

She takes a breath, sighing. “I’m being too harsh, I’m sorry, okay? But as someone in this industry, why would you get a sweet, innocent girl into it? If you cared, you’d protect her, like I do.”

Satoru lets it all hit, slowly, her furious yet emotional words, a girl that clearly loves you, cares for you, and she was right. She was so right.

“Fuck…” Is all he can manage, as his mind whirls to a time when he was not too different from you.

He’d been a nerdy boy, even though his looks carried him far, he wasn’t very experienced, not until he fell in love with a girl in her early thirties, while he was in college. He’d pursued her, he’d begged for her, when he found she was a pornstar? He lost his virginity on set. It had been by far the most popular video there even had been at the time, it went viral.

That’s when they became the power couple.

But every time he saw her with anyone, it broke his fucking heart, he couldn’t stand seeing her on shoots, even when she’d coo at him that he was her favorite, even when he lived with her. He wondered if she liked other men better, he made sure to become perfect, the best there was, and soon she told him she didn’t recognize him any longer.

He says soon, but it was a four year relationship. One where they fought and fucked all the time, one where she was tired of the lifestyle and he was young and brand new. He let the fame get to his head, and she ultimately broke down and apologized for bringing him into this world, but he laughed, brushing it off.

He was happy she did, so happy.

His life was perfect, full of money and beautiful women.

Right?

“I told her you were a good person,” Jenna’s words over the phone bring his attention to the present, as he sinks into self loathing. “I feel I was wrong.”

“You’re not wrong, okay? I didn’t… I didn’t realize.” She sighs again, a long pause as he sits there, feeling the emotions catch in his throat.

“You’re not good for her, Gojo.”

Her words should make him fucking furious, but he’s not, he’s just so very sad now. She was right about it all, he was horrible for you, he made you not recognize yourself, regret your actions. Satoru never grew to regret his actions with his first, even though he was so enamored with the lifestyle at the time, perhaps he’s never fully digested it all.

He thought you’d love it, the attention, the money, that you’d feel so sexy and confident, that the two of you could be that couple. That he could have the best of both his worlds, keep his career and have the girl he desires more than anything right by his side through it all.

He was fucking selfish.

The girl that was in that damn party, nervous and giggling, fiddling with her long sleeves and blushing as he teased her? The girl who took a shotgun from him and got high from that, nervous as she kissed him? The girl who trusted him to show her things, who allowed him to do filthy fucking things without question, eager and open to anything he suggested.

The girl you were, who he changed unintentionally, would have never filmed any shoots of herself, wouldn’t have shown her body, no she just wasn’t that girl, and that was what drew him to you. His hands tighten on the phone as her words ring too fucking true, as they read him inside out.

“I didn’t mean to, Jenna. I really didn’t mean to.” His words seem to resonate with her.

“You saw it as some fun, I get it okay, but she’s not the girl you ‘have fun with’ she’s the one baking you cookies and taking care of you when you’re sick. She’s the shy one, who you have to drag to a damn party, the sweet one who makes sure you get home safe when you’re shitfaced. She’s a good girl, and now she’s devastated and stuck in her bed, feeling horrible.”

“Then let me talk to her-”

“She can’t get over this if you keep on.”

“Get over me?”

“She’s broken-hearted. I’ve never seen her in love like this, even with her ex it wasn’t even close, whatever you did, I need her to snap out of it, before she can’t get past this.”

“Jenna, I didn’t know she felt that way.”

“You don’t know a lot of things. Just stop calling her, I will help her.”

“Jenna-” She hangs up, and his next calls are sent immediately to voicemail, until he curses, throwing his fucking phone, then sobbing into his pillow that night, at the ultimate realization of what he’s done.

He changed you, the parts he fell for, so selfish he didn’t even notice a single sign that you did it all for him. And now he was supposed to just let you go?

How can he even move on without you?

*****

“Shut the blinds, ugh.” You cover your face with a comforter three weeks later, as Jenna is annoyingly there again, she comes over every day as you’ve taken two weeks off work as of the other day to rot in your bed.

“This is your vacation!? The fuck, get up.” She’s yanking the covers as you scowl at her, covered in sticky tears and hair all matted up. “You look like shit.”

“Who is there to look good for now? Let me wallow.” You yank the covers back until Jenna has dragged your ass off the bed, you hit the carpet and wince. “Jenna!”

“No, you’re taking a fucking shower. You are not letting him destroy you like this. Now.” She’s picking you up, you sigh then, just hugging her. “You stink.”

“Sorry,” you’re crying, it’s all you do. Cry and cry and cry over him. Over the man you love that you sent away, you could at least have him in your fucking bed, but no, this is all you have. “Why do you deal with me?”

“Because we’ve been through it all, you’ve dealt with how many of my manic fucking episodes?” You sigh, smiling through your tears.

“Don’t deserve you.”

“You do, and you deserve to move the fuck on. This shit happens, okay? We get up, get looking hot, and go out.”

“I can’t go out, I can’t have fun, I feel no joy without him.” The words are hard to get out of your throat, they’re the truth, but it’s a truth that’s hard to admit.

Without Satoru it was like there was no light in your life, sure Jenna was amazing, and sure you had people in your life you cared for, but Satoru haunts your every fucking though, dream, waking moment. If it was just sex, if it was just a fling, why are the dreams not just that? For every wet dream there were five of just holding his hand on a fucking beach somewhere.

You woke up with one of him holding you yesterday, only to be smacked with the realization that he will never again, touching the cold pillow and wrinkled sheets from your tossing and turning. You slept over and over, dreaming of him again, when he’s a phone call away, it was pure torture, a cruel fucking joke, that you fell in love with Satoru Gojo.

So close yet so impossibly far.

“What about the hottie from work? He keeps asking you out, and he’s fine as hell. Why not try?” You shake your head, sitting on your bed and sighing as she starts rummaging through your wardrobe. “Satoru isn’t the only man, baby.”

“He is the only one for me. Fuck was I too harsh to him-”

“No, he was a dick. You stood up for yourself like a good girl.”

“Don’t hit my praise kink, Jenna, I have a thing for pornstars,” she sticks out her tongue at you, grinning as you finally laugh a little, sniffling. “Nanami is sweet, and handsome, but I think he may want something serious. I don’t think I could give it to him.”

“You could if you tried to let this go. I know you fell, but he’s not going to change, so what good is any of it? Do you have anything slutty?”

“No, not really.” You stand up, going to the mirror and wincing. “I look like shit.”

“You really do.”

“Jenna!”

“Sorry,” she’s so not sorry, frowning as she digs up a lacy ass top, which is just lingerie. “Ooh this!”

“That’s not clothing, Jenna.”

“Sure is, bitch. I know you have some cute skirts…”

“Jenna I’m not gonna be any fucking fun. I’m too depressed.” You start brushing the rats' nest on your head, wincing as the memory hits.

Satoru brushing your hair, after the first time you’d come over, so sweet and caring as he ran it through, as he pulled you against him and smiled. The brush wavers in your hand, the ache in your chest growing again until you almost couldn’t breathe. You wonder if he feels anything close, if he ever did, or were you just something new for him to try?

His mean words melt with his sweet ones.

Done with your experiment?

Baby you are a star, already.

Gonna use it on someone else?

Best I’ve ever had.

You hate him for it, not for the accusations but for the fact that it showed he never knew you, and you thought Satoru truly just got you. But maybe the two of you never got to know each other, maybe it was something physical, some intense chemistry that you confused…

How can that be?

How can that be when what you miss most isn’t his body, isn’t the orgasms or pleasure, but the touches, the cuddles, the sweet smiles, the quiet moments in between where it felt perfect? No, you can’t explain it away, as easy as it would make it, this mix of love, longing, and hatred, is eating you alive, palpable and real as the physical manifestation of Satoru himself.

You’d always love him. But do you love you anymore?

“There’s a DJ I know at the EDM club… let’s go out and party babe, let’s let go and get free drinks and dance!” She’s yanking out a skirt that’s too tight on your waist and rides up your ass now. “This one!”

“An EDM club?” You sigh, shaking your head, but she’s got her mind set on it, shoving you to the bathroom now.

“Go shower, and scrub that hair twice, dear god.”

“Jenna…”

“No, you’re getting the fuck out tonight. Now.”

“Fine.”

You wish you weren’t just crying in the fucking shower, sitting there and hugging your knees, just missing him.

******

Satoru’s dancing in the middle of the EDM club that night, but it’s more physical, more going through the fucking motions, as the sounds reverberate, and women are giggling, dancing on him. He tries to have fun, to remember who he was before you, it’s been three weeks since your friend begged him not to call, and you’ve not reached out one time since.

He stalked your socials, not a single post, like you’ve ghosted everyone, not that you had much anyway, just a few pictures of your baking or cooking and those few blurry selfies. The selfies that make him ache, that make him miss you as he looks at them over and over.

Satoru took down both of your videos, he doesn’t feel right keeping them up after you said you regretted them, that made him feel so fucking horrible. You said it wasn’t his fault, but how can he not feel responsible for bringing it up in the first place? How can he not let your friend’s words sink in deep?

You were innocent, and instead of cherishing that, he saw the opportunity to make bank with you, to enjoy the only woman he wanted and keep his career, to just win and win and win. At the cost of you, of your self worth clearly, and your self esteem, all for what. For others to see you, what he wanted for himself, the thoughts made him fucking sick.

What is money, what are hollow comments, what is any of this when your eyes were full of tears, when he has to jerk it to the fucking memory of you, when he can’t make it to a shoot and just stares at your pictures. When he watches the videos of you two and instead of getting excited feels overwhelming guilt? You were a grown woman, but you were innocent, and he corrupted it, unintentional as it was.

He still was responsible.

He wants to fucking apologize, he wants to beg you to come back, he knows he’s horrible for you, he barely knows himself at twenty eight, and you younger than him seem to at least remember who you are. He missed all the signs of you changing to please him, but it all started falling together these past weeks of being alone, of avoiding his job, of avoiding everything.

He can’t avoid it forever, and he shouldn’t. You were gone.

He backs off the girl dancing on him now, tapping her shoulder. “I need a drink, sweets.”

“Sure Gojo!” She grins and dances with the other girl who was grinding on him, as he finds Suguru leaning against the bar, having a drink, along with a few other of the usual stars, including smirking Toji and Sukuna, who he can’t deal with right now.

“Make it a double,” Satoru murmurs to the bartender, who slips him her number with a little wink, he tips her well and smiles.

Did he really enjoy this?

He leans back, freezing then, when he thinks his fucking eyes are playing tricks on him - it can’t be.

You’re feeling the energy pulsing through every inch of your body, hands touching you everywhere, losing yourself in the strobing lights, the sweat dripping as you jump up and down, laughing again for the first time in so long. Jenna’s dancing with you, then other girls and guys, as the beat kicks up, and everyone throws their hands up in the air.

A girl kisses you, then Jenna, making you blush, covering your mouth as Jenna grins at you. “You’re so cute!”

“Hush!” You shove at her playfully as you both shout over the loud noise filling the intense room, internally feeling guilty for enjoying one night without him, without the man that has your whole fucking heart.

But it does feel good, to shut your eyes and feel blissful nothingness, the drinks simmering through your veins until you’re dizzy. You feel a man’s hands on you, gently pushing them off with a smile, thanking god you wore your contacts because you fear for your glasses with the amount of jumping people. You lift your arms up, back to Jenna again, as you two lose yourselves.

Satoru sees you, skin glistening with sweat in the middle of the dancefloor, jumping up and down with a grin on your face as Jenna jumps with you, bodies all surrounding you, making him glare as he sips his drink. He’s going through fucking torture without you, and you look so happy, so free.

Was he truly horrible for you?

Was he selfless enough to stay away?

“Satoru, maybe try to talk to her?” Suguru says in his ear, loudly over the blaring electronic music that has hundreds bouncing together, kissing on each other, touching  each other.

Satoru used to eat this up, all the music and energy, kissing women and having them feel all over him, especially when he was a little younger and partook in the party drugs, as many of them were on. But even now, he should enjoy it, the looks women give him, the way they touch his body, how they all dance all over him, he should enjoy the feeling.

He enjoys nothing, now, nothing but the memory of you gives him, what it leaves him with, the feel of you in his arms, against his skin, god the night he danced with you and you were so nervous. Clearly still awkward, Jenna is guiding your moves, when Satoru watches several men touching you, trying to rub and dance on you - it was normal in an EDM club, it’s what you did.

But you back off them, with a little polite smile, back to Jenna in moments, when your eyes finally catch his, and you stop moving like you were, your body slows, your eyes get fucking sad, he can see it clear as day. You walk away, and he curses softly, following you around until he catches sight of you walking in the bathroom, and he follows you right in.

“It’s a girls bathroom, Satoru.” You say then, splashing water on your face, when he comes right behind you, turning you quickly, the water drips down your face as you breasts heave up and down in an outfit so slutty he’s sure it’s not yours. “What do you want?”

“What do I want!? What do I want?” He’s blinking back his emotions now, laughing and shaking his head, cupping your face with his huge hands as the DJ shifts to another song, the bass vibrating your bodies, while your breaths come quicker and quicker.

You can hardly stand it, seeing him again, it’s like nothing even exists but him, but your love for him, a love you know ruins you, changes you for the worst. You rotted away for weeks and for one moment had fun, one moment thought you could let some of the pain go, to realize what this was.

But the moment you see his desperate, hungry eyes, taste the liquor on his breath as he leans down, you’re hopelessly lost. You swallow nervously, eyes fluttering shut for a moment, trying to gather yourself, the shots running through your body along with the headiness from the dancing, all mixing with him. With Satoru Gojo, whose hands feel far too good on your skin.

“I want you back, god I’ll fucking do anything,” he whispers, desperate and needy when you open your eyes again, two tears slipping from their corners. “I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Don’t say that, god…” You take a shaky breath, pulling back, when he presses you against the black and gold counter of the fancy bathroom, his thigh right between yours, feeling your heat. Your hips roll before you can stop yourself, moaning softly as he sighs, his hand slipping down your body slowly.

“Anything to feel you again, please. Fuck I miss you,” you bite your lower lip, shaking your head. “I do, god I do.”

“Satoru…”

“I need you. I need you.” He’s kissing you, messy and desperate, licking the gloss and sweat off your lips with his long tongue, while pressing that thigh up. “Look too good to be out there, dressing this slutty?”

“Fuck you,” he moans, never expecting those words from your sweet lips, but all they do is make him needier, when you yank him by his dress shirt, hand crumpling the material. “I hate you.”

“You hate me, huh?” His whisper infuriates you, you’re crying as you nod, arching your hips up again.

“For making me fall for you, yes. I hate you, Satoru.” You pull back, turning away, only for him to drag you against his chest, making you look at your own reflection, dilated eyes, messy hair, your tits nearly falling out of your bustier.

“I could never hate you, sweetheart,” he grips a breast, yanking it out of your top then, making you whine, as your head falls back. “Look at your pretty fucking face.”

“No.” He grips your chin, forcing you to stare at him towering over you, his arms wrapping your body, one hand trailing down your nipple, tweaking it and making you whine out, rolling your hips. “Hate it.”

“You hate this?” You nod, sniffling back those tears, but your body responds to him violently, your cunt drenched when he brushes you over your panties, moaning as he fingers the slick, sticky cum. “Pretty pussy soaked, isn’t she?”

“From… dancing…” He scowls now, and you smile.

Good.

He changed you, the old you would never fucking say you hate him when you’re in love, the old you wouldn’t smirk at his anger. No, you were so sweet, so needy and pathetic for him, and you can’t let yourself slip again, not when you’re still not sure you’ve found yourself. Because you changed, irrevocably the moment you met Satoru Gojo.

“I know you’re lying, you know I’m the only man to ever make you cum,” you glare, but it’s cut off when he bends low, burying his head against your neck as he bends at the waist, your heels giving just enough height for him to slip your panties to the side. “Hold them.”

“No.”

“Hold. Them. To. The. Side.” His whisper almost ends you, the commanding tone you want to submit to.

“No.”

“Now.” He orders, in the only way he can, and you feel him slipping his fingers up and down an already messy cunt, tit slid out of your top, the other threatening to right in this club fucking bathroom, as his blue eyes look at yours int he mirror. “Now.”

“Fuck it,” you scowl as he smirks, doing just that, as the music reverberates and you bend down, pulling your lacy panties to the side, screaming out unwillingly when two fingers bury themselves. “Fuck!”

“Nasty mouth, bratty attitude, where’s my sweet, submissive girl huh?” He smirks as he slips those fingers deeper, pressing your spot with wicked precision, pressing that spongy spot as his other hand grips your breast rough in his huge grip. “Wanna squirt for me again, just me?”

“No, no I - mnh! There, shit, there,” your eyes roll back as his other hand wraps your throat, his desperate whines loud in your ear mixing with the loud squelching of your hungry cunt as he fucks you with his fingers. “Hate you.”

“Yeah, I know baby,” he’s so ready to watch you again, watch you fall apart, as he curls that spot you need, over and over, feels your gummy walls gripping and pulsing his finger with the beat of the goddamn music, watching your glittery skin and lips and eyes in the fucking mirror. “I’ll never hate you.”

“Shh,” you can’t take it, his fingers, his glistening eyes, those pouty lips parted while he moves his hand up and down inside your cunt until you’re about to cum, so intense again. “Stop, too much I’m gonna-”

“I feel it, let go, make a mess f’me, just me huh?” You can’t stop it then, his fingers fucking you just so, you feel all that pressure deep in your tummy, about to explode, making you scream out into his lips as he captures them, hand squeezing your throat as all the pressure builds.

He moans against your lips, messy kisses, saliva just dripping as he hits that spot that makes all the pressure release, and you feel yourself squirting all down his fingers, down your thighs, down the bathroom fucking tile. You scream out at it, as he makes more come out, torturing you as he pulls back and moans, looking at your face with those fucking eyes of his.

“That’s it, squirt everywhere, slutty pussy only does it f’me, say it,” you shake your head, whining and shaking as the mess gushes all over him, and he’s rock hard and thick against the small of your back, whining. “God I miss you, I need you, wanna drink you.”

“No, you can’t…” You’re drunk off him, lost in him, as he slips his fingers away from the mess you made, shoving them in your mouth, and you eagerly suck them up and down, looking at his reflection in the mirror with dilated eyes.

You’ll always want him.

You’re ready to fuck him then and there, ready to forget anything, to feel his cock stretch you out sure, but also to kiss him, to feel his energy, to feel so beautiful under him, around him. You’re shaking, thighs trembling and sticky when he turns you, lifting you and slipping his hands up your messy, sticky thighs, glistening and drenched all the way to your ankles.

“Look at your mess, sweetheart,” he taunts, bending down and licking a thigh desperately, moaning as he looks up at you, he’s too much, fuck he’s too much. “Missed your taste, can’t get it outta my fucking mind.”

“Satoru, please…” You don’t know what you’re asking, hands in his silvery locks, the texture you missed, as he presses hungry licks of his pink tongue on your skin.

“Didn’t miss me, right? Don’t want me now? Hate me?” He’s glaring, stopping his kisses to cup your face, his chin glistening from the arousal that he got pouring from your cunt, eyes locked with yours. “Do you hate me?”

“No,” you’re crying, chest heaving now. “I love you, and that is enough fucking torture.” He pauses, faltering then, as he brushes tears from your cheeks.

“Did you ever think that I-” the door opens, and the two of you quickly celebrate, you adjust yourself, thanking god the drunk girls don’t notice your undress, when you realize what you’ve done.

Let him have you a literal mess, let everything you’ve tried to get over for weeks get destroyed with his lips, his fingers. You confessed again, so pathetic, you can’t even face him, not when he is waiting for you out of the bathroom, you dart off, gripping your clutch tightly and hearing your name ring in your ears, along with the music and the sounds of cheers filling them.

He wants you, sure, but would he ever love you?

You quickly grab Jenna, desperate to run away, to try to compose yourself, how can you stand strong when all it takes is a look from his eyes and you’re ready to give him anything he wants again? It’s toxic, and you fucking know it, what he does to your body, your brain, your heart.

Has he done shoots?

Will he do them?

Why do you care when you’re not his!?

Will he be inside someone else, and you could have kept him if you went along with it all? The thoughts race as you and Jenna run out of the club, and you feel those blue eyes on you from somewhere in the dark club through the strobe lights making you dizzy. You can fucking feel Satoru, the man responsible for your soaked, sticky panties and thighs.

You could never hate him, but who are you without him anymore? It’s like you can’t recognize yourself, so consumed from his touches, from his empty words - miss you - what did he miss? Was it you, or your body? What did he think of the love confessions you were dumb enough to spill twice now?

“Baby you okay?” Jenna asks, as you two climb in the back of the ride, and you shake your head, bursting into tears.

She holds you, so confused, because you don’t say what happened.

You’ll never be okay without him, will you?

*****

Satoru can still feel it, you squirting and gushing in that fucking room, clinging to the memory he tries a month later to get hard on set, how long could he put it off, it’s been almost two months since that fight now. He hasn’t heard your voice since that night, he finally stopped calling again, realizing you were done with him, realizing the amount of times he fucked this all up.

He never told you how he felt, how could you know?

He doesn’t even know how to describe it, the void in his chest as he thinks of you, as he misses you, knowing you live an hour away, he keeps thinking of just showing up, telling you. That he’s never felt this way, that he’s never felt the need, the hunger, the all consuming desire for you as a human being, your laugh, your kisses, your grin.

Your silly jokes, the innocent way you moved against him, so shy at first, to the wildness of that night out, how you arched against him, how you said you hated him, how you said you loved him. And he almost said it back, he just needed one more moment to fucking say it, the words he hasn’t said since his ex fucked his brain up, made him so cold.

But he feels more for you in a short time than he ever did her.

He fell for you, just like you did, but he was so fucking stupid, all he could do was explain it away, to keep his lifestyle, his career- and what did any of it matter without you? What was anything without you in his life now, a life he thought was beautiful, was just a hollow shell since he met you.

Parties, drugs, women all over him, fame and money, what the fuck was a yacht party with beautiful women, when the girl he loves hates him? What was a trip to some rich fucker’s island, when the girl he loves is back in LA? Were you moved on, did you find a guy to treat you right, better than he had?

One that doesn’t make you cry?

“Ready, Gojo?” His pretty costar smiles at him, and he clears his throat, nodding with a fake smile.

Were all his smiles fake before you?

Was everything just a stage, waiting for you to enter his life, to change everything?

You changed so much for him, but he never changed for you.

Satoru’s flexing for the cameras, it’s what he did. You two were done before you ever became anything, weren’t you? You have not once reached out, why should he feel bad, there’s nothing there. He has to move on, like you apparently have, he has to have his career back, and maybe now he could, if he could just ignore the stabbing, gnawing ache in his soul.

Satoru’s slipping his fingers down her spine, smacking her ass and watching handprints form, while she’s whining and arching up for more, her hair falling back behind her shoulder blades. Satoru tries to remember that he once enjoyed this career, that he enjoys pleasing women. He tries to remember you want nothing to do with him anymore, that you ‘hate him’.

But your hate is sweeter than anything.

He could almost do it.

Her hair is the same as yours, as he pulls it gently, her ass arched up for him so pretty. Satoru could almost pretend it’s you, with that condom on, maybe he could shut his eyes and remember you instead. Maybe he could go through it, you two are done, you’ve made it so clear you want nothing to do with him now, and he couldn’t blame you for it.

He could almost slip his cock into her, he thinks, while he fingers her, feels how wet she is. He could almost imagine you, squirting and gushing and whining as he felt your tight, perfect cunt. He shuts his eyes, snowy lashes casting shadows along his high cheekbones, as she moans, this moan that’s not even close to the sounds you make.

He could almost do this, he’s going to have to move on, right?

“I need a career change.” He says suddenly, fingers inside his costar stilling, the set goes quiet. “Shit… um, sorry.”

He’s walking off, wiping his hands off when his manager comes to him.

“Satoru… what the fuck?”

“I can’t do this anymore.” He murmurs, remembering you in that club bathroom, the way you felt in his arms, the anger you held, your pretty little face, the way your lashes fluttered shut. The way you kissed him, how he’d licked that arousal off your thighs, but moreso your words.

You loved him.

And it all finally sinks in - he has no clue if you’ll ever even fucking talk to him again, he has no clue if you really hate him, but he knows he can’t do this life like this any longer. He can’t be with someone else in a world where you fucking exist - no, It was only you.

“I need a change of career.”

This chapter hurt my fucking feelings, my god they're dumb esp Satoru - BUT promise next chap will be a little less angsty <3

Taglist 1 - @juicu @kalulakunundrum @gojoswaterbottle @aldebrana @simp-plague @wedojustbevibin @lucciferr0 @officialholyagua @privthemis @coffee-and-geto @homesickes @msniks @emi311 @mai-505 @ren-ren23 @yihona-san06 @emochosoluvr @sylvermoon @bunheadusa @karvokr @starmapz @queenexplosonmurderr @musiclover2119 @saitamaswifey @reagan707 @midorissi @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @itsinherited @maisiefrancesca @gyarubunny @theonlyhonoredone @chosslut @simperisksksk @xlilycoco @howlsdarling @femaholicc @maymaymarch @miseryyouth-99 @swoozleee @zeunys @cryingdevil @leafynightmares @princess-bblgm @gojosconsort @insomnicshello @joonunivrs @myahfig4 @silviscosplay @iluvjjkmennn @nutellajade

[tonycries]

Can't Touch Me (Like Gojo) - G.S.

Synopsis. In which intentionally making your fríend-with-benefíts jealous ends up with more benefits than you’d think.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, FWḂ! Gojo, slight Sukuna x reader, rough VERY jealous séx, Satoru goes feraI omg, unprotected, FWḂ-to-lovers, thígh riding, fíngering, creampíe, overstím, spítting, implied thréesome, he’s a bit mean and possessive, swearing.

Word count. 4.8k

A/N. Heheh, hoping y’all have a lovely week coming up <3

“-n’ there’s this really great café downtown with those cupcakes you like-”

“Toru.”

“-I’ll get ya some for that kick you need after a lecture with Yaga. Speaking of Yaga-”

“Toru-”

“-he’s the one in need of a kick. I swear, that man gave me a B on my presentation just because I caught him in the middle of his interpretive dance routine-”

“Satoru!”

At this, Satoru pauses in the middle of buckling up his jeans to throw a grave nod your way. “I know, right?” Promptly sauntering over to pick up his t-shirt from where it had been thrown onto your bedroom floor, “It gave me nightmares for a few days, too. Which is why we should go to that café tomorrow and then…”

You roll your eyes - partially out of frustration, partially out of necessity to rip your stare away from those sculpted shoulders on display. Decorated in angry, red scratches running down, down, down. Somehow, you manage to grit out, “Satoru I have a uh- date.”

And ah, was it a sight to behold - because, perhaps for the first time in the twenty-something years that Gojo Satoru has wreaked havoc on this planet, he’s stunned into silence. 

Still very groggy from sleep, still very sinfully shirtless standing at the foot of your bed. His kiss-bitten lips fall slack as you plow on, “And it’s just- I can’t make it tomorrow night because he invited me to his party.” 

Party? This was the first time you canceled one of your…appointments with your friend-with-benefits - and it was for some party? Satoru could do parties, too - much better ones than this loser, he’s sure. Ones that would actually warrant you bailing on him.

Shaking away the strange thoughts ringing in his mind, he spits, “Who?” Just about all he could get out now. 

Whoever he was - it was true about the parties. Why would you want to waste any time going to something like that when Satoru was the one known for them on campus. Him and Suku-

“It’s Sukuna.”

“Oh.”

---

It was stupid - it was ridiculous. And you don’t know why Sukuna ever agreed to this scheme, but here you were, glued to his side like his favorite lil’ plaything for the night. 

“What?” you shout for the nth time tonight, scooting closer on the couch. And you see his lips move, yet, to your frustration - despite being seated so flush against you - no sound comes out of them. 

Whatever they say about Sukuna and Satoru’s parties were true - and then some. Because right now, it was so loud you could barely hear yourself think, let alone whatever Sukuna was talking about. Heaving out a sigh, you get ready to give up and suggest joining the thrumming dance floor - before, a large, soft hand glides down to your waist. 

Fingers digging into the plush of your hips as Sukuna yanks you easily to plop down onto his waiting lap. Thighs strong and steady underneath yours, meeting your surprised gaze with his smug one, “This better?”

His hot breath fans the shell of your ear, sending traitorous shivers running along your spine - all the way down to where Sukuna was resting hand right above where your tight dress was hiking up. 

Involuntarily, you find yourself nodding along, “Y-yeah. Much better.”

“Good.”

Fuck, you could feel each and every rumble of his broad chest against yours as he continues the conversation like nothing happened. The faint tap! tap! tap! of Sukuna’s fingers drumming on your squirming hips to the beat of the pounding music. 

And it’s really hard to forget where you are, yet it hits you like a semi-truck - five of them, in fact - when his dark eyes widen at something over your shoulders. The steady beat of his fingers halting abruptly, “Oh?”

You knew what that look meant - knew who it meant. Because, really, there was only ever one person that could command as much attention in such a hazy, packed campus party.

Dipping your head, you hastily ask, “Is he looking over at us?”

To which Sukuna finally tears his gaze away, amusement and something else so dark swirling behind his gaze when he grabs the back of your throat. Whispering against the skin, “More than looking, pretty. Satoru’s planning my funeral and dancing on my grave already.” Moving up, voice dropping to a low, low whisper, “All according to plan, of course. N’ I think…” You jolt as he bites down on your earlobe, hard. “-that we should give him a lil’ show, hm?”

You bite back a soft moan, palms smoothing over Sukuna’s pecs to steady yourself. “And just what did you have in mind?”

“A little bit of this.” he grins, eyes flickering over behind you. “A little bit of that. And some of-” Sukuna chuckles at the way you’re so responsive underneath his touch, bucking when he gives your ass a tight squeeze. Tracing right up, up, up the middle of your spine, “-this.” Lips just inches away from yours now, close. “And you get him as a new boyfriend, and I get killed for taking what I can’t have.”

You feel something soft - fleeting. 

And then immediately Sukuna’s pulling away, those lips that were just barely one yours curling up into such a sly smirk, “Yo, Satoru.”

You stiffen at the name - and the burning hole being stared into your back right now - whipping your head around to be met face-to-face with a towering Satoru. Brows furrowed, biceps rippling when he crosses his arms, lips drawn tight as he hisses through his teeth, “Seems the two of you are having a lot of fun.”

Oh, were you thankful for Sukuna’s sharp mouth right about now. Because while you’re still sitting there with your mouth stupidly agape, he muses, “Mhm, a lot of fun.” Thumbing your face back towards him, “Isn’t that right, pretty?”

Fuck, those were fighting words, ones that had Satoru looming closer - practically sandwiching you between the two men.

“I’m sure she can speak for herself.” he snaps back, slender fingers circling your wrist. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

“I dunno, Toru.” And, well, maybe you were an idiot. Maybe you were a mastermind, because you only bat your lashes up at Satoru so deceivingly innocently. “Kuna here-” relishing in the way he flinches at the nickname, “-was jus’ telling me how great of a boyfriend he’d be. Right?”

The other man nods, “Since this pretty lil’ thing is single, thought I might as well take a shot.”

“Please.” Satoru was pulling you closer against him now, irritated huffs prickling waves of goosebumps across your skin. Words venomous, “Some boyfriend he’d be. I’m sure he’d do nothing other than give you weak dick and bore you to death.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Right, because yours is so much better?”

“You really think you have what it takes to satisfy this lil’ minx?”

Both men were gritting their teeth, trapping you between them. People were starting to stare now - some even pulling their phones out to start recording in case of a fight. And before the argument could escalate until that point, you catch Sukuna’s eye. Cutting off whatever next retort was on the tip of his tongue with a short, subtle shake of your head. 

“Well then…” he instead purrs, grinning as if he was in on some inside joke between the two of you - on purpose, of course, just to watch Satoru’s eyes grow harder. “Guess if I’m ‘boring her to death’ then you-” Sukuna gives you a little push, nudging you towards Satoru’s chest. “-can teach her all about fun.”

Before you can react, two strong arms are looping your waist, helping you stand up - and pulling you clean off of Sukuna’s lap. 

You’re hit with Satoru’s expensive, heady cologne - and his chest against your back, rock-hard, chest thumping wildly. You blink up at that uncharacteristically clenched jaw, “Toru?”

Now, you’ve seen him moody, you’ve seen him irritated - but never to this extent. Positively fuming, teeth grit, jolting at the mere sound of your voice as if his whole body was hit with a wave of electricity. Like some hidden, primal part of himself was being poked so dangerously awake when you softly intertwine your fingers with his. All gentle against his almost bruising hold, you question, “Are you alri-”

You don’t get to finish the question, because all it takes is another slow, leering grin flashed at you from Sukuna before Satoru mutters, gravelly. “Excuse us, then. I must have a talk with my woman.”

Starting to walk in long, fast strides upstairs - with you all stumbling and trying to keep up behind him. 

Urgent. Dangerous.

“Extra room’s unlocked, you two!” you hear Sukuna call out after the both of you. And the last sight you see of him is when he mouths a silent “You’re welcome.”. One hand flashing you a thumbs up, the other adjusting the crotch of his pants. “Have fun.”

Satoru only clicks his tongue, moving very purposefully towards where Sukuna’s bedroom was instead.

“Woah- Toru, slow down.” you yelp, out of breath at his ruthless pace. But of course, since this is Satoru, he won’t have it any way other than stopping immediately in his tracks. Turning briefly around to you - only to wrap two arms around your waist, throwing you so easily over his shoulder like some ragdoll. Large palms tugging down the hem of your ass as he continues walking. “Y-you’re so-”

So what? Mean? Jealous? Playing right into your hands?

You don’t even know - nor do you really care, because Satoru finally reaches his destination.

“Fuck- here.” he spits.

Slam!

The door is flung open so hard it almost rattles off its hinges - and you aren’t faring any better. Because no sooner has Satoru stepped inside, he’s throwing you onto the king-sized bed in the middle of the room. 

The mattress dips as he slowly makes his way up to you, your legs quiver at how much he just looked like a man starved - eyes half-lidded and crazed, hair ruffled. Having finally found a full meal in years. Darkly eyeing down the way you’re splayed out like such a slut on the mattress, dress hiking up with each bounce at the sheer force of his throw. 

“So-” Satoru’s fingers reach out to lazily unbuckle the straps of your heels. Lingering much more than necessary. “-got anything to say?”

You bite your lower lip, holding back a delighted grin while his hands dance up your thigh to fiddle with that garter you knew he’d love. Slow. Agonizingly slow. Cocking your head in faux-confusion, “Hmm, like what?”

“Oh I dunno.” Satoru muses, saccharine sweet. And oh you could tell by his tone that he didn’t like that - didn’t want to like it. Running his fingers feather-light all the way down your legs to fling that useless garter onto the floor. “How about a ‘oh I’m so sorry, Toru, for bailing on you and acting like such a slut with the biggest asshole on campus jus’ to rile you up.’” 

You bristle at his mockingly high tone, oh yeah, your plan worked - hell, maybe too well. 

Teeth clenched, you hiss, “Well what are you gonna do about it, Toru?” Jutting your chin in defiance, “You’re not even my boyfriend. Maybe he jus’ fucks me better than you.”

“Say that again.”

Fuck, it takes you a second to even recognise his voice as your familiar friend-with-benefits. So jagged and raw. 

And yet, you’re still running your mouth - so close to his. Too close. “Maybe he jus’ fucks me be-”

Now, usually you were the one that’d shut up Satoru mid-sentence - this time, however, he’s the one crashing his lips against yours. Swallowing the rest of that sentence in such a messy clash of teeth, and spit, and desperation. 

Pulling ever-so-slightly on your glossy lower lip with his teeth, “Say it again, sweetheart.”

Oh, you knew you shouldn’t. Not one bit. But you do it anyway, letting out a muffled, “He f-”

And again. And again and again and-

Each and every time Satoru’s kissing away your mean little words, a large hang coming up around your throat to thumb apart your lips further. “Open.” he hisses against your mouth, so angry. 

It’s as if on autopilot when you do, bruised lips sagging open. Leaving the perfect lil’ opening for Satoru to spit onto your lolling tongue, once. Twice. Thrice. Until your bleary eyes are snapping open, whining against Satoru’s iron-hold fist when you pathetically try to pull away in embarrassment.

Because shit, let it be known that Gojo Satoru has perfect aim - except for when it comes to you. Letting the steady strip of spit splatter against the side of your mouth, gliding his thumb to smear it all over your lips.

“How cute.” Satoru coos, eyes hooded. He gives your pouty mouth a final, chaste peck, sucking softly on your bottom lip. Chuckling, “Makin’ me almost forget you were locking lips with some other bitch earlier.”

And Satoru has the audacity to laugh - laugh - hoarse, and humorless at the way your jaw drops open in disbelief. Humming into your throat, “Yer right, though, m’not your boyfriend.” He leaves little bite marks down your racing pulse, your collarbone, your tits spilling out of your sinful dress. Eyes just devouring you through his long lashes, “But that doesn’t make you any less mine.”

Sitting back on the mattress, all it takes him is a simple tug on your hips to seat you so prettily on his lap. Your legs trembling around his thick thighs, gasping at the feeling of something so rock-hard right under your clothed pussy. 

“Since ya like riding thighs so much, sweetheart-” Bunching your dress up at your hips, gripping your waist - tight. “-let’s see how you like mine.”

“What- oh ngh- fuck-” you’re gasping when he just starts dragging your sloppy hips down his thigh. Long, harsh movements that don’t even ease you into it. 

“Shit.” Satoru groans at the feeling of your cunt drooling, seeping into his skin already. He’s angling his head to spy on the heavenly view - hooking a finger around your drenched panties. “This damn thing is-” Pulling - tearing. “-in the way.”

You’re gasping when Satoru pulls back to look at you with a content grin, dangling the flimsy fabric around his finger like a badge of honor. “You’re- ngh- buying me a new one.”

“Oh, anything for you.” he’s grazing his teeth along your earlobe, fingers finding their way back on your hips to grind them on his thigh, back and forth. Up and down up and down up and- “Or is that what you wanted me to say?”

And shit Satoru is so mean with the way he gives your ass a sharp smack! Pulling your whiny face closer, grinning sternly against your lips. “Why don’t you ask that new boytoy of yours to buy you some, huh?��� 

“B-but-”

“B-b-but-” he mocks, bouncing his knees up and down to get you to slide your cunt down his long thighs faster. Puffy folds spreading so shamefully open - so shamefully good. “You were so happy being such a slut for him before, right?” Just goading on your poor self to huff and puff in a way that made his cock twitch wildly. “So why are you here? With me?”

You’re stubbornly keeping your lips sealed shut to keep yourself from crying out - and oh, Satoru didn’t like that. Almost as much as he didn’t like seeing you giving those beautiful heart-eyes at some other bastard.

“Oh? Playing shy now?” Smack! “What happened to the slut from earlier, huh?” Bouncing his knee faster. The pads of his long fingers sting into your skin, sure to leave bruises for him to admire later - and for some people to take note of. Pulling - drawing your cunt to hump him like a bitch in heat. “Tha’s alright, pretty. I get it.” 

And Satoru - mean, mean Satoru - waits until your features soften in relief, almost letting out a sigh - before dipping a hand down to brush a thumb at your pretty clit. Hard. “Guess I’ll jus’ have to bring her out.”

“Oh- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl, nails digging into Satoru’s shoulders when he starts to draw frenzied, methodical little circles on your throbbing clit. “S’too- good- oh my god-”

“‘Toru’ works jus’ fine, sweetheart.” 

But oh for how confident Satoru was talking you into insanity, he can’t help but gape in wonder down below him, awe-struck with how sloppy you were. He could see you sweet sweet juices trailing down his palm, that glossy sheen on his thigh. “You’re so dripping wet, pretty. Who’re you this wet for? Me or-” Satoru’s free hand comes up to squish your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, turning your head to the adjacent wall, where Sukuna had a framed photograph of himself - because of course he did. “-him?”

Fuck, Satoru can’t even be mad at the way he feels your cunt clench in surprise - because the feeling is so heavenly. His pretty girl, getting off on just his thigh.

Hips stuttering as you move faster - sloppier. So, so filthily all the way from around his knee just till where you could feel the curve of his massive erection. 

He doesn’t even have to move your hips for you anymore - you’re moving as if on instinct at this point. And it makes him smirk, “Heh, such a slutty lil’ thing aren’t ya? Gettin’ off on my thigh?” Feeling you push your hips down hard - so hard. Pelvis desperately trying to hit all your sweet spots, “N’ who’s thigh are you riding right now?”

It’s all you can do to manage out a whimpering “Y-you.”

But, of course, that wasn’t enough. And Satoru’s only quirking his fingers just enough on your clit to make you cry out loud. “Yeah tha’s more like it. Louder now - who’s thigh are you riding right now?”

“You-”

“N’ who got you this fucking wet?”

You cry out when Satoru angles his leg up ever-so-slightly to watch gravity slide you faster down his thigh. Clit catching so fucking obscenely along the fabric of his pants. Ruthless.

“F-fuck you, Toru!”

“Mhmmm, thought so.” His hot tongue darts out to catch those big, fat tears rolling down your cheeks at the unforgiving stimulation. Muscled thighs burning lightly now - faster -  fingers so erratic. Only getting even more so. “Cuz you’re mine aren’t ya?”

You cum so hard - violent, even - that you don’t realize when you are. Just that you’re letting out a broken sob of Satoru’s name while he toys so relentlessly with your clit through your high.

Flashes of white in your vision, your heartbeat in your ears. So good that you’re almost tearing apart his button-up to shreds, hips jerky and sensitive as you your sloppy cunt gushes all over Satoru’s thigh. And, fuck, you’ve never felt so much like such a slut than when you look down to catch the glossy coating all over it. 

One that Satoru swipes thumb at - pooling the syrupy slick on his fingerpad before bringing up to his pretty pink lips and-

Pop! 

“Mmm.” He groans, muffled. “Fuck, you’re so sweet - could taste you forever.” Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste, “Almost makes me forget that you didn’t answer my last question.”

And you don’t know what you’re reeling more from - the way that Satoru throws you around so easily, pushing you back until you’re splayed out against the plush mattress, shaky legs on his shoulders, arms around his neck. Or from the realization that shit, you’d been too busy losing your absolute sanity to answer his question. 

“I- I didn’t hear.” you make up an excuse, heels digging into the muscles of Satoru’s shoulders now. “I’m yours, Tor-”

“Now now, don’t try that with me, sweetheart.” Satoru cuts off your flurry of apologies, kissing softly at the ankle beside his neck while he pulls off your dress and bra. You didn’t need those, anyway. “Guess I just hafta prove it to ya, right?”

And fuck was he well and fully intent on proving it to you. Because the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s peeling down his drenched pants - and those unnecessary boxers right along with it, too. 

Satoru hisses when his painfully hard erection smacks against those toned abs, smearing precum in a small, filthy little pool. So so angry with the need to be inside your tight pussy - to prove to you from the inside out that you were his. 

“Ya like what you see?” he notices your fixed stare at his cock. Greedily following the precum beading at his fat, red head, making its way between Satoru’s prominent veins. To those tufts of white way down, down, down- “Hey there.” You’re startled out of your little reverie by two wet fingers being snapped in your face, “As flattered as I am, this is actually my favorite part.”

And fuck you could see why it was.

Because it felt so sinful to watch with bated breath at the way Satoru fists his swollen cock, gliding his weeping tip between your swollen folds. Letting your pretty pussy slobber all over him. Up and down. Again. And again. Teasing. 

“P-please, Toru-” you whine around the fifth time he’s “accidentally” nudging at your poor clit. Hips bucking up in need for more more more- “Enough teasing, jus’ wan’ you ngh- inside me.”

To Satoru, no sweeter words have been spoken. But he still manages to curl his lips into a leering smirk at your fucked-out, needy self. “Funny. Coming from someone who shit- pretty, you’re pussy’s trynna suck me up - who couldn’t wait to bail on me tonight for some other hah- jerk.” He presses his thick tip down on your clit, on purpose. “Would’ve fucked you ngh- real nicely, tonight, y’know? What a shame.” 

You can only watch when he draws his hips back, lining up right with your sloppy hole. “What a shame m’gonna ah- fuck you like the slut you are right now.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s pushing in - to your snug cunt, to your fucking lungs it felt like. 

“Oh- oh fuck, Toru-” you keen, back arching off the bed at the stretch. Satoru’s girth was rubbing up against your gummy walls and stretching them out so good. All the way until all you could feel was the rapid thump! thump! thump! of his throbbing cock pushing between your legs. “God, s’too big-”

“No no no, you don’t get to say that.” Satoru spits into your open mouth, hips jutting forward like some animal in short, shallow grinds to bully himself deeper. “You don’t get to fuck- ngh- act all coy when you brought this upon yourself.” His words come out faster - more slurred. Falling out faster and faster as his hips do, “Not when you decided t-to act like a lil’ slut hah- n’ guess what?”

Whether it was a rhetorical question or not - you weren’t sure. All you know is that you’re mewling up tearily at such a feral Satoru, “W-what?”

To which he only smiles against your lips, hips suddenly going still. Dangerously still. “N’ that means m’gonna fuck you like one.”

Before you can even react, he’s pushing in all in one go. Fuck, it never got easier even after so long. 

“Oh- fuck I can’t take it- all-” you cry helplessly as he keeps pushing past that first ring of resistance. The curve of his cock massaging all those hidden sweet spots inside while he keeps splitting you apart deeper and deeper - not daring to even slow down. Not until Satoru’s well satisfied with the kiss of your bruised cervix against his thick head ,heavy balls smacking against your marked-up ass. 

“See? Knew you could take it, you always do.”

And then he’s moving - not with the slow, persistent determination from before, no. Satoru was so animalistic, bouncing you unapologetically on the mattress. 

Hands keeping your hips still to let him ram his entire cock inside your tight pussy. Over and over and-

“Still don’t think you’re not- fuck- mine, sweetheart?” Satoru runs a hand through his hair to see you better, to drink in the sight of your puffy folds bulging around his cock. Struggling to take in each mean thrust, “Because this seems ngh- reeeeal convincing that you are.”

You scrunch your brows in a pathetic plea, “I-I am yours, Toru- ngh-”

But he only brings his ear closer, “What was th-that? Didn’t hah- hear you-” Hands pushing apart your legs until they burned at the stretch. Until you were so shamefully on display for him, “You hah- need more convincing? Oh, I see.”

“I don’t! Oh- T-ngh”

It’s all you can do to let out teary, broken moans when Satoru rolls his hips harder. So carefully practiced with the way he locates your sweet spot easily. 

“Yeah? You hah- like that?” he groans, words punctuated by a deep, harsh thrust. All hitting the bulls-eye each and every time. “Like me f-fuckin’ you like you’re mine?”

At this point, you’re scrambling at the damp sheets, the headrest, Satoru’s shoulders - just anything and everything to hold onto whatever’s left of your sanity - which seemed to be slipping away with each press of Satoru’s head against your g-spot. 

But it still wasn’t enough.

Languidly, he brings a hand over to pinch your ravaged clit between two fingers. Having you whine so prettily with each roll of his fingertips. “Answer the question, pretty.”

“Yes!” you gasp, feet kicking at the sheer overstimulation. “I love it- ngh shit shit shit- I love it, Toru- love it so much.”

Shit, you might’ve just broken him.

Because while you may have thought that this answer would calm your Satoru down a bit - it only made him snap. Eyes widening, hips stuttering, swollen lips falling into such a fucked-out oh! - he looked like an absolute wreck.

Letting out a low, throaty groan of, “Oh fuck, you’re gonna be the ngh- death of me.” With this, he’s pressing his sweaty forehead onto yours, breaths coming out in feverish little puffs that match his merciless cadence. “Wish they could fuck- see you like this.” Ramming inside you harder - meaner. Giving your clit a light smack! before he starts playing with it once more. “I’d ah- fuck you in front of all those losers that think they have a chance just to show off how good you are f’me. Because you’re fuck fuck fuck- my good girl, right?”

You nod as much as you can, head just spinning with each brush of Satoru’s dick against your sensitive spots. Fingers twirling at your clit just as dizzyingly. Letting your slick glisten all over his wrist - his painfully squeezing balls - all the way up to his abs with how hard he was fucking into your tight pussy.

The both of you were getting so sloppy now. No care or concern for the party still raging on outside, not when your gummy walls were sucking up Satoru’s aching cock like that. 

“No one ngh- can fuck you like this.” Satoru sucks on your lower lip. Ragged, like it pained him to keep talking, but he couldn’t stop anyway. “No one.” Milking you harder and harder like he was high off your sweet moans. More desperate - depraved. “Cuz m’yours.”

And he repeats that - into your lips, into your forehead, down your neck - over and over while you cum so fucking hard all on his swollen cock. Plushy walls squeezing so tight that it was almost difficult to fuck you through your high.

Ripping out strangled, raspy groans with each clench of your slutty cunt, “N’ you’re mine.” You think your vision gets hazy through your climax, and the only thing you can hear are those obscene squelches and Satoru’s voice. Like a mantra, “You’re mine- you’re mine you’re mine you’re mine- fuck you’re mine.”

Not straying too far behind, Satoru cums and he thinks he sees the pearly gates of heaven - with you, such an angel. 

So sweetly whining into his ear when he’s painting your walls white, pumping rope after rope of thick, hot cum into your awaiting pussy.

Blinking back his vision only to eye the way it overspills, dribbling down your slit with each harsh ram of his hips. 

“Wan’ go again-” Satoru groans. Only fucking his seed deeper and deeper and oh- he didn’t want to stop. Didn’t think he could stop with the way you were bringing out each and every single last drop like it was delicious. “F-fuck I needa go again. Swee-”

SLAM!

“Woah, seems the two of you are having a looota fun.”

Still not pulling out, both you and Satoru scramble to cover yourselves up with Sukuna’s now-soaked sheets. Well, mainly cover you up, for Satoru had no shame in staring the other man down. Scoffing out, “The fuck are you fuck- don’ squeeze me so hard, pretty- the fuck are you here for?”

“It’s my room, n’ I had a feeling you’d be here.” Sukuna lets the door shut so agonizingly slow, flashing the two of you a lazy, devilish grin. “Besides - this is my date, after all.”

A/N. Plagiarism of work not authorized.

[tearlessrain]

please help me- i used to be pretty smart but i’m having so much trouble grasping the concept of diegetic vs non-diegetic bdsm!

gfkjldghfd okay first of all I'm sorry for the confusion, if you're not finding anything on the phrase it's because I made it up and absolutely nobody but me ever uses it, but I haven't found a better way to express what I'm trying to say so I keep using it. but now you've given me an excuse to ramble on about some shit that is only relevant to me and my deeply inefficient way of talking and by god I'm going to take it.

SO. the way diegetic and non-diegetic are normally used is to talk about music and sound design in movies/tv shows. in case you aren't familiar with that concept, here's a rundown:

diegetic sound is sound that happens within the world of the movie/show and can be acknowledged by the characters, like a song playing on the stereo during a driving scene, or sung on stage in Phantom of the Opera. it's also most other sounds that happen in a movie, like the sounds of traffic in a city scene, or a thunderclap, or a marching band passing by. or one of the three stock horse sounds they use in every movie with a horse in it even though horses don't really vocalize much in real life, but that's beside the point, the horse is supposed to be actually making that noise within the movie's world and the characters can hear it whinnying.

non-diegetic sound is any sound that doesn't exist in the world of the movie/show and can't be perceived by the characters. this includes things like laugh tracks and most soundtrack music. when Duel of Fates plays in Star Wars during the lightsaber fight for dramatic effect, that's non-diegetic. it exists to the audience, but the characters don't know their fight is being backed by sick ass music and, sadly, can't hear it.

the lines can get blurry between the two, you've probably seen the film trope where the clearly non-diegetic music in the title sequence fades out to the same music, now diegetic and playing from the character's car stereo. and then there are things like Phantom of the Opera as mentioned above, where the soundtrack is also part of the plot, but Phantom of the Opera does also have segments of non-diegetic music: the Phantom probably does not have an entire orchestra and some guy with an electric guitar hiding down in his sewer just waiting for someone to break into song, but both of those show up in the songs they sing down there.

now, on to how I apply this to bdsm in fiction.

if I'm referring to diegetic bdsm what I mean is that the bdsm is acknowledged for what it is in-world. the characters themselves are roleplaying whatever scenarios their scenes involve and are operating with knowledge of real life rules/safety practices. if there's cnc depicted, it will be apparent at some point, usually right away, that both characters actually are fully consenting and it's all just a planned scene, and you'll often see on-screen negotiation and aftercare, and elements of the story may involve the kink community wherever the characters are. Love and Leashes is a great example of this, 50 Shades and Bonding are terrible examples of this, but they all feature characters that know they're doing bdsm and are intentional about it.

if I'm talking about non-diegetic bdsm, I'm referring to a story that portrays certain kinks without the direct acknowledgement that the characters are doing bdsm. this would be something like Captive Prince, or Phantom of the Opera again, or the vast majority of bodice ripper type stories where an innocent woman is kidnapped by a pirate king or something and totally doesn't want to be ravished but then it turns out he's so cool and sexy and good at ravishing that she decides she's into it and becomes his pirate consort or whatever it is that happens at the end of those books. the characters don't know they're playing out a cnc or D/s fantasy, and in-universe it's often straight up noncon or dubcon rather than cnc at all. the thing about entirely non-diegetic bdsm is that it's almost always Problematic™ in some way if you're not willing to meet the story where it's at, but as long as you're not judging it by the standards of diegetic bdsm, it's just providing the reader the same thing that a partner in a scene would: the illusion of whatever risk or taboo floats your boat, sometimes to extremes that can't be replicated in real life due to safety, practicality, physics, the law, vampires not being real, etc. it's consensual by default because it's already pretend; the characters are vehicles for the story and not actually people who can be hurt, and the reader chose to pick up the book and is aware that nothing in it is real, so it's all good.

this difference is where people tend to get hung up in the discourse, from what I've observed. which is why I started using this phrasing, because I think it's very crucial to be able to differentiate which one you're talking about if you try to have a conversation with someone about the portrayal of bdsm in media. it would also, frankly, be useful for tagging, because sometimes when you're in the mood for non-diegetic bodice ripper shit you'd call the police over in real life, it can get really annoying to read paragraphs of negotiation and check-ins that break the illusion of the scene and so on, and the opposite can be jarring too.

it's very possible to blur these together the same way Phantom of the Opera blurs its diegetic and non-diegetic music as well. this leaves you even more open to being misunderstood by people reading in bad faith, but it can also be really fun to play with. @not-poignant writes fantastic fanfic, novels, and original serials on ao3 that pull this off really well, if you're okay with some dark shit in your fiction I would highly recommend their work. some of it does get really fucking dark in places though, just like. be advised. read the tags and all that.

but yeah, spontaneous writer plug aside, that's what I mean.

[a-hermit-pining]

LaDs Men React to You Being Whipped for Them

AN: Is it love, if not bound by subtle insanity?

Pairing: LaDs x GN Reader

Emily Bronte (Wuthering Heights): “He's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.”

Yearning Event

Xavier:

"Sit," you say, practically shoving him onto the bed. "Sleep. On time. For once."

You tuck him in with a look that brooks no argument. "You're going nowhere tonight. I don't care if the world ends. It can wait until morning."

Xavier blinks up at you from under the blanket, wide-eyed. He never imagined he'd live to see the day someone forced him to sleep. He slept plenty as is, but this? This was different.

You lean in, palm cupping his cheek, thumb brushing over his pout. "Not sleepy?" you ask, voice soft, lips close.

And then the little gremlin bites your finger. Gently. But still. His eyes glimmer. "Can't sleep," he whispers. "Not tired enough."

He gives you the look. You know the one.

You’re not sure if you want to fight him or kiss him breathless. Possibly both.

Rafayel:

He knows you’re whipped. And he lives for it.

This? This is his dream come true. You, hovering with tissues and cough drops. You, his personal bodyguard, ready to throw hands at anyone who so much as sneezes in his direction.

He flashes smug little smiles at everyone who sees you fuss over him. Sips his tea like royalty. Winks like the menace he is.

Cue: entire exhibition crowd watching you dig through your bag for lozenges because his voice might sound hoarse.

He’s a sucker for love, but terrified to be the first one to say it. So when you pour your heart out first?

He’s free. Free to adore you with all the softness he’s hidden for years. Free to give back everything he’s been aching to share.

He’ll never say it, but this kind of love? This saves him.

Zayne:

He doesn’t know what to do with this. Not at first.

You bring him lunch at work. Spend weeks researching ways to break the curse. Kiss every scar like it’s sacred.

Everyone around you sees it. The way you’re gently, beautifully spoiling him. And they love it. They love this for him.

And slowly… so does he.

At first, he’s confused. Then touched. Then quite overwhelmed.

Because he’s never had this before. Not like this. Not so deliberate. So quietly certain. But over time, it settles in his chest like warmth. Like a memory he never had but always wanted. Like home.

And when he finally learns how to return it. When he stops being afraid of breaking it... oh, gods. You’ll drown in it.

Because Zayne doesn’t love in halves. He just never thought he was allowed to have this.

Sylus:

He’s supposed to be the suave one. The smooth-talker. The charm incarnate. The planner. The tease.

But your easy, unrelenting affection? It undoes him.

“What next?” he asks, leaning down to tilt your chin up. “You going to complain next? ‘Sylus, why can’t you ever plan anything in advance?’” He mocks your voice with a grin, cocky and effortless.

But your smile doesn’t waver. You just wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. Like you always have.

“No,” you murmur. “I think it’s an excellent idea to take a vacation. Thanks for planning, Sylus.” You say his name so gently. So sure. Then kiss him with painstaking care.

And he’s stunned. Just… still. A blush creeping in. Throat tight. Something in his chest cracks open.

“Well,” he says, voice lower now. No teasing this time, just a quiet, genuine warmth. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Gods help him. You’re too good at this.

Caleb:

You’re both the problem. The gooey couple that makes strangers jealous and your kids roll their eyes.

Your love is obnoxiously mutual. Like something ripped from a bard’s over-the-top romance ballad. And he lives for it.

He’s jealous by nature. Territorial. But with you? He has never felt more safe. You never give him reason to doubt. Never make him feel like he’s too much.

To be cared for so deeply, to be someone’s center of gravity, it heals something ancient in him. It’s the love he didn’t know he was allowed to have. And gods, he guards it with everything he is.

Because in your eyes? He’s not a colonel. Not a soldier. Not a weapon. He’s just Caleb. And he is so, so loved.

[sai-int]

fwb!simon, reader catches feelings- NO. FWB!SIMON BUT SIMON CATCHES FEELINGS. [ pt 2 ]

--

it's quite simple.

simon comes home from a mission, he's restless, twitching, pacing, can't figure out what to do with his hands.

so what does he do? he knocks on your door, waiting anxiously until you open it and he's scooping you up, hauling you across the hall and into his basically empty apartment, and fucking you into the mattress for the night.

and you're just so good at taking it—whatever he gives you and whenever he gives it. you cry, whine, beg and plead for his cock in all the ways you know how—until you go blue in the face—and simon fucking revels in it. he's all harsh words and degrading names, calling you a filthy slut, his cocksleeve, a fucking cumdump—you name it, he's probably said it.

it's perfect, until it's not.

he's spent months fucking you stupid, night after night. he fucks you even when he's not restless. he fucks you when he's bored, when he's lonely. especially when he's lonely.

simon riley's a gridlocked man. hardly anything ever gets past him, but it didn't take many rendezvous between your thighs for him to forget that.

his mask would come fully off—not just above his lips—and you'd still kiss him breathless, still scream his name until your throat went hoarse. you weren't afraid of everything underneath. if anything, you liked it.

It's not like the both of you frequently exchanged actual conversations, but he could tell by the way you dripped and soaked his sheets even more than you ever had.

after that, he even began to gather enough courtesy to let you get some rest after he fucks you, letting you stay wrapped in his sheets for whatever sliver of the night was left.

you never pushed, and that's what he liked most about you. you always went by his terms because you never really cared as long as you got fucked six ways from sunday.

so, you always left when he woke without a problem. that was the arrangement and you were more than fine with getting a good fuck only a few steps away from your own home.

then even you began to notice the shift.

simon could never fuck you badly, per se. but he began to fuck you more softly. tenderly, as if he was suddenly aware that humans shouldn't be bent in half as long he's had you pinned underneath him in the past. he'll rock his hips into you with similar fervor, but he'd caress you, rather than grab at you. hold your forehead to his, rather than choke you with his thick hands.

then came the praise. god, it's like fucking a completely different man. from one week to the next, you're no longer a slut or a hole, you're pretty girl and angel. it makes your head spin. you try to pinpoint the change and why it happened, but you can't. somehow, you cum twice as hard now.

it all came to an ugly head when he spent the better part of 2 hours between your thighs, moaning and groaning as if you were doing him a service.

now, you weren't going to complain, but love just wasn't in the cards for you right now, and the looks simon was giving you from where he lapped at your cunt were filled with adoration, like he was waiting for you to tell him how good he was doing.

hell, you could see a phantom tail wagging each time his eyes met your own. and after a session that felt more like making love than an explosion of pure lust, you could feel his eyes lingering on you as you slipped your panties back on.

"what?" you hum, not wanting to face him in fear you'd see that godforsaken look in his eyes again.

and you were right, because he's staring at you like he's about to drop to one knee. "nothin'."

you toss your shirt back over your head and steel yourself as you turn to face him.

"simon," you start and he's already hanging on your words, "what's going on with you lately? i don't mean to sound rude but—"

this is it, he thinks. it has to be now, or nothing will change. he's not a religious man, but if he's ever prayed to god for anything, it's for this to become something real.

"'m in love with ya."

one blink, then two. two to three, three to four. you stare at him as you try to piece together what he's saying.

"simon, i don't think you understand—"

"—i do. i do understand and i want ya, bad. so bad, i can't even stop thinkin' bout ya, sweetheart. even when y'not 'ere im thinkin' about ya. everything about y'is perfect, and i don't think i can function without y'with me."

this is the most emotion you've ever seen out of simon and it rocks you to your core. if you didn't know better—and if the lighting wasn't so dim—you'd think he was tearing up.

you didn't know how to break it to him.

[tiramissyoucake]

Self indulgent post, Mark being down bad

You were thankful you decided to stay home today, the storm was unrelenting outside as rain pattered down against surfaces like bullets, thunder and lightening exploding amidst the wind and rain. As ominous as it was, taking safety measures and remaining inside comforted you, you followed procedure, anything else is out of your hands.

A warm mug next to you as your favorite blanket draped over your legs, your laptop dimly playing videos of varying types. Everything was fully charged, your phone next to you, quiet as a mouse. You weren't going to move for a while...

A knock on the front door quickly stopped your train of thought, all appreciation dissipating.

Holding back a groan, you got up from the couch, adjusting your clothes as you made a beeline for the door— peephole be damned, who's crazy enough to be out in this weather?

Swinging the door open, you look up to a messy head of sopping wet black hair. You almost didn't recognize Mark since his hair is always out of his face. His eyes were swollen, and his lips tugged into a cross between a frown and a pout. This is the first time you've seen him since your break-up about a month ago.

"... Mark?"

"... Hi." He sounded glad, like he didn't expect you to answer. "... c-can I come in? I just- I need to talk to you, like REALLY need to."

"No." Your answer may have been cold, but your relationship ended on bad terms. "Go home, it's thundering outside."

His heart plummeted to his stomach seeing you close the door, his hand quickly reaching out as well as his foot to keep it open. "Wait— please. (Name), hear me out. Just hear me out and I'll go, I swear." His voice almost cracked as he begged you.

"Mark, it's over. I gave you back all your stuff and deleted your number, just move on—"

"I can't." He whimpered, "please, don't make me do this— I can't find anyone else like you." He sighed, unsure if it was shaky from the cold or the sob bubbling in his throat. "Don't leave me, please- just hear me out."

You grimaced, the door opening further by his hand. "(Name), you don't have to respond now, but please just... don't do this." Mark approached you, clothes soaked through his coat and hands hesitant to touch you. "I-I can't stop thinking about you, please baby—"

You looked away, wincing at the nickname. "I told you not to call me that."

"I'll call you whatever you want— fuck, (name), please—" you heard a thud, glancing back to him you found him on his knees, his arms caging around your legs. "Don't leave me, please- need you so bad.." he sniffled, a choked sob escaping him.

His rambling continued as he rubbed his cheek against your body. You're now mortified as your hands on his shoulders to balance yourself. "Mark. Get up. My neighbours will see—"

"Let them, I don't care." He huffed, the tears and sobbing returning tenfold. "Just take me back— I-I'll be good, I promise." Mark looked up at you with glossy eyes, the pink undertones of his skin now more evident from both the cold and the crying. "Please baby, lemme be your good boy again..! I'll be the best, I promise. I love you so much..!"

Your other hand landed on his head by mistake, he almost moaned at the feeling of you touching him in a way that slightly resembled affection, leaning up to your hand. "I know deep down you still love me too.." he huffed, that sentence was such a gamble.

"Let me in, let me show you how much I love you." He kissed your body wherever he could reach, causing you to yelp. "Mark!! What the hell?! I'm serious! Stop it!"

With renewed vigour, he looked up at you. "I'll stop when you let me in... please, baby.. it's so cold outside..."

[lacydollette]

after bf!rafe surprises doll!reader by buzzing off his hair, she can't keep her hands to herself, feeling extremely horny whenever she looks at him

warnings: rafe x fem!reader, pure smut, praise, little degradation, making out, tit sucking, oral (fem receiving), face riding, explicit language, 18+

You lay sprawled on the lounger at tannyhill, sipping iced coffee, and scrolling lazily through your phone while tanning. You knew Rafe was up early today and had been out running errands for Ward, but he'd been gone for hours, and you were really starting to miss him. Just as you were considering calling him, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house. You perked up, stretching lazily "About time, ray! How dare you keep me waiting so long.”

But when Rafe stepped into the room, you froze. Your mouth fell open slightly, sunglasses sliding down your nose as you took in the sight of him. His hair—his perfectly tousled, dirty-blond hair was gone. Completely buzzed down to almost nothing.

The sharp angles of his jawline, the slope of his cheekbones, and his ocean-blue eyes were suddenly the stars of the show, all of his features more prominent than ever. "Holy shit," you muttered, standing up slowly. Rafe smirked, trying to play it cool as he tossed his keys onto the counter. "What? You don't like it?"

"Are you kidding me?" You gasped, crossing the room in a daze. Your fingers reached out instinctively, brushing over the soft, short stubble of his buzzed hair. "You look... different." His grin widened as your hand lingered on his head while his found the curve of your ass. "Different good or different bad?"

You teasingly bit your lip, "Good," eyes locked on his. "Really, really good." Your fingers drifted down to his jaw, and you tilted your head, studying him like he was a work of art. "It makes your eyes pop even more. God, Rafe, why didn't you do this sooner?" He chuckled, taking your wrist and pressing a soft kiss to your palm. "Didn't know I needed your approval to change things up."

"You don't," you said quickly. "But, wow. Like, really, wow." Rafe’s ego was definitely fueled by your words, your approval meaning everything to him.

Everything else passed in a blur, but you couldn't keep your eyes, or your hands, off of your boyfriend. Every time he passed by, you reached out to touch his head or his face, not believing how effortlessly handsome he looked, stealing kisses amost every minute. And Rafe—well let’s face it. He absolutely loved it.

A little later, you were curled up on one end of the couch, watching Rafe as he sat on the other. He was sprawled out, completely manspreading right infront of you. Fucking tease. His phone was in his hand, and he looked completely absorbed in whatever he was doing. His jaw clenched slightly as he concentrated, his brows furrowing just enough to make him look impossibly sexy.

You couldn't take it anymore.

Without an ounce of hesitation, you jumped up and crawled over to him, grabbing his phone and tossing it onto the cushion beside him. "Hey, what the-" Rafe started, but his words were cut off as you climbed onto his lap, straddling him. Your hands were on his face in an instant, lips crashing against his in a heated kiss.

Rafe froze for half a second before groaning against your mouth, his hands sliding up your plush thighs to grip your waist. "You're killing me, Rafe," you murmured breathlessly between kisses, your fingers threading through the short stubble of his buzzed hair. "You look so fucking good. I can't even think straight."

"Yeah?" he rasped, his voice low and teasing. "Is that why you're humping my leg like a bitch in heat right now?" You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes dark with desire. "Shut up," you whispered, kissing him again.

Rafe growled against your lips as the kiss deepened, both of you losing yourselves in the heat of the moment. Your hands roamed over his broad shoulders and down his chest, your red nails scraping lightly against the fabric of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him. His hands were just as eager, gripping your hips firmly, pulling you flush against him as your bodies rubbed against each other.

"Doll," he murmured against your mouth, his voice low and full of want. Without warning, Rafe's hands slid under your thighs, gripping you firmly as he stood up in one fluid motion, taking you with him. You gasped, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you toward his bedroom. "You're not playing fair," you teased, breathless, as your arms looped around his neck. "Fair's overrated," Rafe shot back, smirking as he kicked the door shut behind him.

He tossed you onto his bed, your hair splaying out across his pillows as you landed with a soft gasp. Before you could say a word, he pulled his shirt off in one swift motion, revealing his toned chest and making your heart race even faster. He was on you in seconds, his hands braced on either side as he hovered over you, his ocean-blue eyes dark with hunger.

"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again. Your hands roamed over his bare chest, tracing the hard lines of muscle and pressing against his warm skin. You arched into him, your body craving every bit of contact you could get. His lips moved down to your neck, nipping and sucking just enough to leave faint marks.

As his hands slid under your top, pulling it up and over your head, you let out a soft whimper, desire building with every touch. Rafe pulled back slightly, his gaze raking over you, taking in the sight of your perky tits. You were perfect. He immediately leaned in, capturing one of your nipples between his lips. You tugged him closer, nails digging into his shoulders as you whimpered out, "I need you, Rafe."

His breath hitched at the raw need in your voice, his hands sliding down your sides as he licked and sucked all over your chest, his touch leaving your cunt aching for him. "Tell me what you want," he said against your skin, rough and low. You pressed your head into the pillow, biting down on your bottom lip, "I want to sit on your face."

Rafe froze for half a second before a devilish grin spread across his lips. "Yeah?" he said, his voice laced with amusement and excitement. You nodded eagerly, licking your lips as you looked up at him with anticipation. "Whatever you want, Doll," he said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned back, settling himself against the pillows and pulling you with him “Come here."

Your pulse raced as you straddled his chest, hands braced on his shoulders as you hovered over him. Rafe's hands slid up your thighs, his digits pulling the soft lace of your soaked panties to the side. "Shit—you’re drippin’, baby.” he murmured, his blue eyes locked on your as you positioned yourself over him.

Rafe’s hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he kissed your inner thighs, his touch sending sparks through your entire body. You threw your head back, a soft moan escaping your lips at Rafe's teasing. He didn’t waste anymore time though, his tongue lapping through your wet folds, leaving you gasping for air.

“Such a sweet fucking pussy.” he mumbled quietly, his hot breath against your core sent shivers down your spine. You gripped the headboard for balance, head tilted back, a soft cry escaping your lips as you shuddered against him.

"ray—oh my god," you whimpered, voice shaky as you rutted your soaking cunt against him, his lips wrapping around your sensitive nub, sucking and circling his tongue as if his life depended on it. Your fingers instinctively drifted to his buzz cut, the soft, bristly feel of it only adding to your overwhelming senses. You couldn't stop touching it, letting your nails lightly scrape across his scalp as you rocked against him.

"That.." you breathed, voice trembling, "feels so fucking good." The sound of your voice, so needy and desperate, only spurred him on. His grip on you tightened, helping to drag your cunt against his tongue. “you’re gonna make a mess for me, baby?” he groaned, his blue eyes looking up at you from between your legs. You nodded hastily, the band in your lower stomach about to snap as Rafe moaned against your clit. within moments, you fell apart completely, body trembling as you released all over him, moaning out his name.

You were panting as Rafe lapped up your juices, overstimulating your poor cunt as your legs trembled, “Shit.” Carefully sliding off of him, you leaned down and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands found his head again, fingers stroking the soft buzz as your body pressed close to his. "You really can't stop touching it, huh?" he teased, his blue eyes glinting with amusement. You grinned, cheeks still flushed from your orgasm. "Can you blame me? You look so good, rafey. It's actually insane."

He chuckled, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip. "If l'd known buzzing my head would make you act like a needy little slut, I would've done it a long time ago." You rolled your eyes, yet you couldn’t help the tingling sensation in between your legs. "I'm serious," he murmured, smirking. "I'm definitely keeping it now. If this is what I get, l'm never growing it out again."

"You better not," you teased back. Rafe let out a low chuckle, but his amusement faded quickly as your lips attached themselves to his jawline, your eagerness reawakening. Your teeth grazed his neck before you pulled back to meet his gaze. "I want more, Rafe." His blue eyes darkened, and a cocky smirk spread across his lips.

"You want more, huh? Still can’t get enough of that shit?"

LINKS .ᐟ doll!reader masterlist

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[bi-writes]

Thinking about going into labor while your partner is on the way somewhere unimportant, who refuses to come home to help you. And instead of being alone and scared, you hang up and call up one of your childhood friends everyone thought you'd wind up with. Kyle shows up at your door, furious but does his best to hide it, and helps you through it all. Next day the father of your child has the audacity to show up like nothing is wrong to see Kyle holding your baby so you can take a well deserved nap.

he picks up on the third ring. you tremble, gripping the edge of the porcelain tub. when you finally hear his voice, just the sound of him soothes your beating heart, just a little.

"'ello, love."

"kyle?" you sniffle. his background quiets a bit. you hear a door close, and then he's a bit louder.

"hey, love. what's wrong? you sound upset."

"my water broke," you hiccup. "a-and i...i was in the bath...i-i..." you close your eyes. "i can't get out of the tub."

"jesus fucking christ." you whimper, but kyle just hums. "not you, baby. hey, you just relax, alright? you said you were in the bath. just relax, and i'll be there soon."

"kyle--"

"don't be scared," kyle chuckles, and you whine a little. "hey, you're gonna have a baby. you've been waiting for this, yeah? haven't you?"

"y-yeah..."

"aren't you excited? you always tell me how much you can't wait, right?"

"yeah..."

"don't be scared," kyle repeats. "you just relax. be happy. she's coming today!"

you smile, wiping your face a little, and when kyle hears your giggle, he sighs.

"good girl. you sit tight."

so you do. you lean against the side of the tub, and you rest in the warm water as you stare at your phone screen.

he won't answer the phone. he hasn't read your texts. he's not coming.

you hear the front door open and close, and then there's a gentle knock on the bathroom door. when kyle comes in, you try to cover up, moving your hands over your tits, embarrassed, but kyle just goes to look for a clean towel to help you out.

"it's okay, love, i won't look," kyle tells you. he smiles at you, cupping your face gently, and you look into his dark eyes. "you look so pretty. you're glowin', y'know that?" you smile through gentle tears, putting a hand over your belly, and you try to move, but it's no use. kyle drops the towel, kneeling, and you shake your head.

"i-i can't get out--" you gasp, and kyle rolls up his sleeves over his thick forearms, putting the towel over his shoulder before he reaches for you.

"it's alright. i'll get you out. i'll try not to look, okay?"

"i'm so embarrassed...i'm so sorry, kyle..." you sniffle.

"don't apologize, love. i got it. give me your hands, put 'em around me."

you lift up your wet arms, wrapping them around his neck. you press your chest against his, and he picks you up as you stand, helping you to your feet. as you cup your belly, he wraps the towel around you, covering you, and then he holds your hand as you step out of the tub.

"alright. now where's your bag, darling?"

kyle grabs your bag and supplies as you get dressed in your room. as you pull your socks on, kyle comes up behind you, smoothing your hair down your back before he starts to braid it. he used to braid your hair all the time when you were kids--he always said he wanted to practice for his sisters.

"you got the car seat, kyle?" you ask as he holds your hand, and he nods.

"mhm. in the car already."

"a-and the diaper bag?"

"in the boot."

"my extra clothes? and my...my stuff?"

"mhm. i got it, love. and whatever you forgot, i'll get it for you. alright, up, buckle in, that's a girl."

he holds your hand the entire way. you groan softly when a particularly painful contraction hits you, but when you squeeze kyle's hand, all he does is squeeze back. you take deep breaths, leaning your head back, and he hums.

"you're doing so well, love. so well."

"why..." your eyes water. you squeeze his hand again, and when you look down, your vision is blurry from your tears. "why didn't he answer? w-why...why doesn't he...w-why would he..."

"don't worry your pretty head about tha', love," kyle interrupts you gently. "only thing you need to worry about is you and her. i got it."

"o-okay."

she's beautiful. she looks more like you than her father, and kyle counts that blessing. she's got your eyes, your nose, your hair. her cheeks belong to her father, but she might as well be your twin, and when kyle takes her from you later that night, rocking her gently, he can really see up close how much she looks like you.

in the middle of the night, kyle holds your hand as you get up to go to the bathroom. your entire body is tender and sluggish, but kyle keeps you upright as you walk, kissing your head gently as he helps you take a seat on the toilet.

he even gets your underwear set up for you, with the big pad and everything, and he helps you step into it and slips them up and over your hips. you're a tearful mess as he does this, but kyle just presses his forehead against yours.

the look in his eyes, you will never forget it. the intensity. the commitment. the stability. every time you pick up the phone, kyle answers, and sometimes he's thousands of miles away. your own boyfriend can't even have the decency to answer when you're nine months pregnant--what did he fucking think the call was going to be about?

back in your room, kyle fits into the bed with you. he lets your rest your head on his chest, and when you ask him if he's going to go home, he tells you this is close enough.

in the morning, kyle's sitting outside your room with the baby. he's holding her, touching her little nose, letting you sleep in. you had a rough night, and when he found you still with your eyes closed that morning, he figured he would let you keep sleeping, just for an extra hour or so.

you deserve it.

"is that her?"

kyle's head turns with a snap. standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, is your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. not man enough to answer the phone when you most needed him, not strong enough to do the right thing and marry you, and not wise enough to realize all he had to do was take care of you, and the world would be right again. you're not greedy. you don't ask for anything. all you want is to love and be loved, and kyle doesn't think that's too much to ask for, kyle thinks you're one of the most selfless women he's ever known, so why does this fucking bastard of a man get to call himself this girl's father?

kyle looks back down, fixing the blanket over your daughter's neck carefully. he thinks he did pretty good swaddling her this time, but you might have an opinion on it.

"i'm gonna say somethin', mate," kyle says lowly. "'n after i say it, y'r gonna do some thinking, real thinking."

he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"why don't you give me my baby, and get the fuck outta 'ere?"

kyle looks up and snickers, shaking his head. he gets a better grip on your daughter, sitting back, and he fixes your ex with a sinister smile.

"and what if i don't? you gonna take her from me?" kyle chuckles. "i'd love to see you try."

he stands, raising a brow.

"listen here, and listen close." kyle takes a step closer to him. "you're a right pile of shit comin' here thinking that you can just waltz right in and be daddy of the year, alright? what kind of man are you, eh? your girl in need, callin' you, and you don't even have the fuckin' balls to answer her? take a good look at your kid, mate, cause it's the last time you're ever gonna see her."

"no, i have the right--"

"to fuck right off," kyle snaps. "if i see you near her or her daughter ever again, i'll find you, and i'll make it worth your while, mate. make you feel real sorry finally, y'hear me? 'n when i take her back home, all of your junk better be out the flat. otherwise, i'll fucking burn it."

"kyle?"

your voice pulls him away. kyle adjusts the baby in his arm, going back inside, and he shuts the door behind him, finding your eyes. you reach for the baby, arms outstretched, and kyle easily sets her down in them, watching as you cradle the tiny thing into the crook of your neck and stroke the back of her neck.

the nurses come in and drop off a few papers. one stops, looking at kyle, giving him a big smile.

"congratulations," she tells him, and he smiles back at her. she takes a seat next to him, holding out a clipboard. "do you think i could get a few details? i just need to know mum's name, baby's name--"

kyle gives it to her. your birthplace. your birthday. your name. your baby's name. then she flips a paper over, putting her pen down.

"and dad's name?" she asks.

kyle sighs, leaning back in his chair. they don't give out birth certificates right away. you have to request it. you won't find out, not just yet, maybe he'll even pick it up for you. you'll be much too busy being mummy dearest.

"kyle," he tells her, flashing her that big smile. she blushes a little, writing it down. "kyle garrick."

he looks back at where you are, your eyes on him. you smile shyly when your eyes meet, and kyle leaves the nurse to come up to you and drape a hand behind your head. he strokes along your hair gently, thumbing at your temple.

"i heard you outside, kyle."

"did you?"

"and i heard you just now."

"mm."

you blink, reaching for the edge of his shirt, and you pull him down, further, until his face is nearly against yours.

"i guess i shouldn't be surprised," you say softly, reaching up to smooth a a few knuckles down his cheek. he leans into it, licking his lips, and you bite your lip. "you've always had a habit of...taking what doesn't belong to you, huh?"

kyle laughs. always the pretty boy, ever since you were little. one smile from him--kyle could get away with anything. anything at all.

"who says you don't belong to me?"