#something short and sweet for tonight :^) <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[gukcnt]

TEDDY & SECRETS ⭒ JJK

in which you discover your shy coworker jungkook, has been leaving teddy bears and plushies with questionable notes on your doorstep to confess his secret crush for you

pairing — secret admirer!jungkook x coworker!femreader

genre — workplace au, friends to lovers, mystery elements, slice of life, romantic comedy, lots of fluff

warnings/tags — shy!jungkook, cozy vibes, teddy bear obession, slowburn, confrontation, adorable gestures, romantic notes, nervous confession, stalker vibes turned sweet, happy ending, no warnings because it's literally the cutest shit bfr

wc — 1.1k

a/n — I decided to write this short oneshot quickly because I was craving some fluff, and I haven’t had the urge to write in weeks TT but I hope y'all love this one! <3

m. list

────🧸────

You’ve always adored teddy bears ever since you were a kid.

Their soft squishy forms always brought you comfort in a way that you couldn’t deny.

They were like your silent friends.

A safe place.

Your apartment was the proof of this obsession—lined with bears and plushies of every size, from a mini one to a massive teddy that takes up half your couch.

At work, you’ve mentioned it during a random talk, gushing about a new bear arrival that you’ve seen at the market.

Apparently someone was listening.

For the past two weeks a new teddy bear has appeared at your doorstep every morning.

Each one unique.

Fluffy pastel ones, simple brown ones, and now you had bears of all unique colors and designs.

The one that stuck out the most

Was the pink polka dotted teddy with a bow tie.

And for some reason it was exactly the one you’ve been eyeing in the market, which confirms that it was someone from your work.

Each teddy came with a note tucked into their paws.

The handwriting was shaky and uneven, almost like the writer's hands trembled while writing.

“You light up my dark” — the first one said.

“I’m closer than you think” — another one.

The one you received yesterday felt like a soft plea.

Like the person sending these was facing a desperation, a need.

“Please notice me”

At first you thought it was a silly prank, maybe a friend teasing you for your love for plushies.

But all your friends denied it and your neighbors—an old couple—obviously weren’t the type to do such things.

The mystery was charming.

A little creepy, yes.

But each bear was tugging at your heart at the same time.

Endearing in some way but making you curious.

Tonight, you're done wondering.

You set an alarm for 3 am, determined to catch the culprit.

You stand by the window, coffee in hand as your eyes scan the quiet street.

The moonlight was the only source of light, your heart racing with anticipation.

After a few minutes or so you see a hooded figure approaching your door with careful steps, and they hold a small teddy bear.

A brown choco colored one with a tiny red bow.

He kneels to place it on your doorstep.

You don’t hesitate and rush to your door, flinging it open.

“Hey!” you shout.

The figure stumbles, and before you could react, he starts running away but you’re quicker, not caring about your bare feet.

You grab hold of his sleeve.

“Who are you? why are you doing this?”

The hood falls, revealing a familiar face—jeon jungkook, your quiet coworker with a shy smile and doe eyes that always seem to find you.

His cheeks are flushed, breaths shaky and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

Almost like he got caught stealing

“jungkook?” you gasp.

“You’re the teddy bear guy?”

He cringes, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh… yeah, I—I’m sorry,” he stutters.

“I didn’t mean to freak you out.”

You release his sleeve, stepping back as you cross your arms over your chest.

“What’s with these bears?”

jungkook fidgets, staring at his sneakers like they hold his answers.

“You mentioned it at work. A lot, actually and I thought you’d like them, so I wanted to do something special—“

“But I couldn’t just… approach you.”

Your mind flashes to those coffee break chats and your rants about teddies.

You imagine he’d listened sitting somewhere far.

Nodding quietly, his shy grin hiding how much your words had taken to his heart, valuing your wishes like they were the most precious thing.

“Why didn’t you just… talk to me?” you ask

“I tried talking, I mean. But every time I got near you… I—I don’t know.”

“You’re so…”

He trails off, then mumbles quietly.

“You’re you. And I’m just me.”

Your heart flutters strangely.

jungkook’s always been sweet at work—bringing you coffee when you’re too busy to look after yourself.

Laughing at your dumb jokes.

You never thought much of it, but now looking at his nervous gaze

It clicks.

The notes are starting to make sense.

“The notes,” you say, softly.

“They were about me?”

He swallows hard, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

Doe eyes glassy.

“I’ve liked you—uhm—for a long while actually, and I thought the bears might be… romantic? but then I realized it was probably weird, I didn’t know how to stop without explaining and—“

He rambles and cuts himself off.

He exhales sharply, heart pounding out of his chest.

“I’m an idiot for doing this stupidity.”

You glance at your doorstep, where the brown bear sits, a note in its paw like always.

You pick it up, unfolding the paper.

“I’m scared, but I love you”

Your breath catches, lips parting as jungkook watches you now like he’s waiting for rejection.

You clutch the bear to your chest, heart skipping a beat.

The softness of the bear grounding you just like previous ones given by him.

“jungkook, this isn’t stupid.” you whisper.

A smile on your lips.

“It’s… adorable. Scary at first yes, but adorable.”

“You picked bears because of me?”

He nods.

“I thought they’d make you smile and you always light up when you talk about them.”

“You’re not mad?”

He asked, restless.

His eyes still wide with uncertainty, the fear of rejection still there.

You can't help it—you laugh, shaking your head.

“Oh god, you’re just ridiculous you know that? but I love them, every single one.”

You pause, meeting his gaze.

“And I think maybe… the guy leaving them, too.”

“Really?”

Hope in his voice, along with a slight tremble.

“Really.” you grin.

“Next time, maybe just ask me out instead of leaving stuffed animals in the dark like a little stalker.”

He laughs, a nervous yet joyful sound.

The sound warming you despite standing outside in the cold night air.

“So coffee tomorrow?”

You hum, looking at him while pretending to consider, enjoying teasing him and watching him squirm.

“Is that a yes…?”

His smile fades slightly.

“Depends. Only if you promise to keep leaving me bears.”

jungkook chuckles, the tension calming.

“Sure, but if I bring a bear for every date, you’ll need more space. Think you can handle my teddy bear game?”

His tone now cheeky, his smile bright.

“Bring it on, teddy guy.”

You both share a giggle, and you wonder why you didn’t notice him sooner.

As you invite him inside to escape the cold, you glance at the bear in your arms that you are hugging to yourself even tighter.

And the fluff in your arms feels like the start of something.

A promise

For the future.

────

💌 permanent taglist: @chaelvrx @wintaemoonjen @slutology00 @furioustrashlover @kelsyx33 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @minewlove @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lachesismoonmist @angelfuzzy2 @levisnumber1 @angelsdecalcomania @magicalnachocreator @hynjamkook @koodollylvr @withmuchluv-tannie @istarag @elmarimochi9513 @wtfanu @kooklv @endlesslysassy @nanisblogg @tatamicc @mokaliciouss @armybomb-infires @jiniminisworld @seokjinthescientist @gyeomibearr @xmiaacxio @n0chuprettykook @gizaspicebag @aaclariww @dollytingz @pokalunolino @bunnies-only @cuntygguk

[em1i2a3]

The Moon Song

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Fem!Reader!

Summary: When you and Bob return from your rehearsal dinner for your wedding tomorrow, you both decide that it is time to finally practice your slow dance and settle on a song.

Warnings: Pure Fluff, and nice intimate moments, Talks about the future, Y’all it’s so sweet that it’s cavity inducing to be honest.

Author’s Note: I loved the idea that reader and Bob procrastinate for so long that they are literally making these decisions the night before the wedding, just seems like something Bob would do. I thought it would be a cute little blurb piece, cause this weekend there are some pretty heavy updates coming from the Bob o’sphere lol, and I need to ease that tension by starting with this fluff lol. I hope y’all enjoy this little piece <3 (Also, Happy RAF!)

Word Count: 3,017

The door to your shared apartment clicked shut behind you, and both you and Bob let out a long sigh at the exact same time, not even trying to hide the slight exhaustion that laced the breaths.

Your clutch landed on the little table beside the door with a dull thumb as you reached up to tug your earrings out, wincing a little at the ache in your lobes from how the weight of the jewelry pulled at them throughout the night. You didn’t try to take off your heels just yet, but your feet were already screaming for relief.

Behind you, Bob shifted his weight from one foot to the other, slowly loosening the collar of his black button up. The quietness of your apartment wrapped around you both like a blanket, giving you a breath of real air after hours of wine refills, clinking forks, and polite interrogations.

The sound of your shoes echoed down the hallways as you and Bob made your way towards your bedroom.

“That was so much small talk,” You muttered, trying to unzip your dress before realizing–for the second time tonight–you couldn’t reach behind you properly to do it. You let out a frustrated exhale and added “I’m sorry about my cousin, by the way. She was relentless…If it wasn’t for my aunt distracting me, I would’ve stepped in sooner.” Bob shrugged as you reached your bedroom door.

”It wa–wasn’t that bad,” He said gently, “Especially for it being our fi–first meeting.” You smirked and glanced over your shoulder at him.

”Well, you made a good first impression. I just wish they weren’t so pushy with you, and maybe they would actually let you finish a sentence instead of jumping in for you.” Bob reached out and took your hand, his large fingers wrapping around yours, giving them a small squeeze.

”We li–literally will never se-see them again after this anyways…There’s also a reason wh–why I didn’t meet them before tonight, right?’ You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up your throat.

”Yeah…I guess you’re right as usual.” You gave his hand a squeeze back, “You know how I am, though.” He nodded, bringing your hand up to his mouth–the diamond of your engagement ring catching in the dim light–his lips brushing against your knuckles as you stepped into the bedroom fully.

”Al–Always on the defensive for me…Ju–Just like I am for you.” You smiled, feeling the warmth blooming in your chest as the two of you paused in the center of the room, bathed in soft amber lamplight. The chaos of the evening started melting off your shoulders.

Then Bob grinned and said, “Now, turn around for me. I wanna help my fiancée un–undress one last time before I can say she’s my wi–wife.” You rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh.

”God, you’re so sentimental tonight.” You joked, but you still turned anyway. His hands were on you instantly. They were steady and unhurried as they found the golden zipper of your short white dress, fiddling with it for a moment before guiding it slowly down your back, his fingertips skimming your spine. The fabric fluttered down your hips and pooled at your feet. In one quick movement he knelt to unbuckle your heels next–one, then the other–thumbs brushing against your calves like he wanted to remember how your skin felt tonight, of all nights–on the eve of your wedding day.

When he stood up again, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss between your shoulder blades, then another at the top of your spine. Then another one near the nape of your neck.

“You looked be–beautiful in that dress tonight, by the way,” He said, his voice muffling and vibrating against your skin. You let out a little laugh as you turned to face him, your chest pressing against his.

”You’ve said that ten times tonight.” He smiled, eyes half-lidded as he leaned in and kissed your lips.

”El–Eleven including this time.” You sighed and kissed him again, softer now, allowing your lips to linger against his, before pulling back.

”Mmm…I love you so much.” He bumped his forehead against yours.

”I kn–know,” He whispered, “I love you too.” You smiled, reaching up to help him undo his tie, the cool fabric sliding loose with a soft hiss before you slipped it from around his neck and let it drape carelessly over the footboard. You didn’t stop there.

You glanced up once–his eyes were on you, heavy-lidded–before your fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt. One by one, you undid them. Each pop of a button revealed more of him. The line of his sternum. The slow rise and fall of his chest. The very faint dusting of light brown hair that trailed downward from the center of his ribs. The faintest pink scar near his left collarbone. All of him–warm, familiar, and yours.

And as each new inch of skin appeared, you leaned in and kissed him—soft, slow, sweet.

A kiss just below his collarbone.

Another near the center of his chest.

A final one low on his ribs.

Each one paired with whispered sweet nothings:

“So handsome.”

“Tomorrow I get to call you mine forever.”

“You’re everything to me.”

Bob stood still and quiet beneath your affection, his chest rising with every breath, eyes fluttering shut as his hands rested loosely at your waist.

When you finally stepped back, you did so slowly–eyes trailing over him one last time before giving him space to finish undressing.

You peeled off your sticky bra and underwear, reaching for the soft, worn t-shirt of his that always ended up in your drawer no matter how many times he looked for it. It still smelled faintly like cedar and fabric softener and the faintest trace of him.

You tugged it over your head and pulled on your cotton sleep shorts, the ones that rode up your thighs just a little too high for modesty but were impossibly soft and broken in from so many washes. You raked your fingers through your hair and gave it a twist into a bun.

When you turned back around, Bob had finished changing. His black dress shirt was now a forgotten memory in the hamper, and in its place: those loose grey sweatpants that always hung low on his hips and that godforsaken navy blue t-shirt. The one that clung to his shoulders and arms, fitted just enough to be devastating.

You stared.

Groaned.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, dragging a hand down your face, “You change out of that hot button-up and then put something even hotter on? Bob, how you torture me.”

He laughed, scratching the back of his neck like he couldn’t quite believe you were talking about him like that. “St–Still not used to me being in something fitted, hm?”

You stepped toward him, swaying your hips a little just because you could, and reached up to playfully tug at the hem of his shirt. “Never. And I don’t think I ever will be. It’s always a wonderful sight.”

You kissed him again, slower this time–more lips, less breath. Your hand splayed across the center of his chest, feeling the firm, steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.

He let out a low, soft moan into your mouth. Just a small one.

Enough to make you feel like you could melt into the hardwood.

When you pulled back, both of you a little flushed and breathless, Bob leaned his forehead against yours again. “Le–Let’s make some tea and relax together, hm?”

You nodded, and as you turned toward the door, he gave your butt a playful tap.

You gasped and looked back at him, eyebrows raised.

He had the nerve to look innocent, “Just giving yo–you a little love tap of encouragement.”

——————————

The kitchen was dim and glowing when you reached it, lit only by the under-cabinet lights and the golden cast from the hallway lamp.

You moved automatically, hips brushing each other in the small space as Bob pulled two mugs down from the cabinet–your favorite one with the little chip in the rim, and his black one with the faded NASA logo. The kettle was already humming on the stove, steam beginning to whisper from the spout.

You hopped up onto the counter while he reached for the tin of ginger peach tea you both loved. He spooned loose leaves into the steeper, the soft clink of metal against ceramic the only sound for a moment.

You pulled your phone from the pocket of your sleep shorts and opened your Spotify, immediately tapping into the playlist you’d been building in slow, indecisive spurts over the past few months.

“first dance???????”

The title said it all.

And now–tonight–you were scrolling through it with a dull ache in your stomach. Too many ballads. Too many lyrics about heartbreak or metaphors that felt too heavy. Everything either felt choreographed or too raw.

Behind you, Bob poured hot water over the tea, the scent of ginger and an array of mixed dried fruits beginning to warm the air. The kitchen slowly filled with that calm, earthy sweetness you always associated with late nights and deep conversations. He set your mug beside you, but you barely registered it.

Bob said something–something quiet and offhanded, voice soft and low–but you didn’t catch it.

”Hm?” You murmured, still staring at the list of songs, scrolling more and more down the list. He shook his head, smiling.

”Nothing. Yo–You’re busy.” You finally looked up from the screen, locking your phone and putting it beside you.

”No, I”m sorry. Go ahead and repeat what you said.” You said gently. He picked up his mug, leaning beside you on the counter, his free hand coming to rest on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

”I just said…We don’t ne–need to stress out about picking the perfect song…We’ll be fine.” He reassured.

“Bob…” You sighed, setting your hand over his, “We have not really been blessed with the skill of being rhythmically inclined.” He let out a soft huff of amusement, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

“So we sway ar–around a little bit for a few minutes…” He said, voice low, warm. “As long as I’m with yo–you, nothing else matters.” He pulled his hand from your thigh to reach for your mug of tea and held it out to you, like he was presenting a peace offering. “Now… drink yo–your tea and relax a bi–bit.” You took the mug with a sigh, exaggerating the frown on your face as you wrapped your fingers around it and brought it to your lips. The steam brushed your cheeks, warm and soothing, as you took a slow sip–sweet, herbal, grounding.

But when you looked over the rim of your mug, Bob was watching you with that expression. The one that said he knew exactly what you were thinking before you said it.

He shook his head and sighed, low and fond. “Alright…” He murmured, dragging out the word with performative defeat. “Let me go grab my sp–speaker, and we can go through a few songs…”

Your lips curved up immediately, hope fluttering in your chest. “Thank you.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead–soft, slow, lingering. “On–Only I would do this for my future wife.”

You let out a small, genuine laugh, “I’m honoured.” You replied quickly, watching as he turned and padded out of the kitchen.

Moments later, he returned, speaker in hand. He turned it on, the soft hum and flash of blue light indicating it was connected. As he returned to his space beside you, you unlocked your phone and handed it to him.

Bob opened the playlist, scrolling with one thumb while the other cradled the speaker against his hip.

“Pl–Plainsong by The Cure is great…” He said thoughtfully. “But do we really wanna be on that da–dance floor for five minutes?”

You smirked, sipping your tea. “Okay, you’re right…Let’s aim for something a bit shorter.”

Bob chuckled and scrolled again, brow furrowing slightly in concentration. “Yo–You’ve got so many songs on this pl–playlist. How the hell are we gonna decide?”

You shrugged, tapping your finger against your mug. “We whittle it down until we’ve got a top five…Then try dancing to them?”

Bob sighed, resigned. “Alright…” You leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could spiral. His skin flushed pink almost instantly under your lips.

You lost track of time after the fifth or sixth song.

What started as a forty-track playlist and a long list of indecisiveness had finally been whittled down to something manageable—five songs. Five contenders for the first dance of your lives. By now, your mugs were long emptied and pushed aside on the counter, forgotten in the warmth of focused decision-making and the lazy comfort of each other’s presence.

Bob leaned his elbows on the counter beside you, scrolling through the final list. “Okay…” he exhaled. “We’ve got—it down to five songs. Which one do you want to start with?”

You hummed, stretching your arms above your head with a quiet groan. “Let’s do Sea of Love first.”

Bob offered his hand to help you down from the counter, steady and warm as always, and you took it without hesitation. Your bare feet touched the tile floor with a quiet sound, and a soft click followed as he pressed play.

The song drifted in gently—delicate and dreamy, like something meant for twilight and candlelight and hands held close to the chest.

Bob stepped toward you, and you met him in the middle of the kitchen. His hand found the small of your back while the other cradled yours carefully in his own. You rested your free hand just beneath his shoulder, fingertips grazing the curve of his bicep, your body sinking easily into his.

The music wrapped around you both like steam curling through warm air. You moved together in small, uncertain sways–barely even dancing, really. Just shifting with the rhythm. But it felt right.

He looked down at you, cheeks tinged with color, his eyes soft.

“Wh–What do you think people usually talk about when they’re actually doing th–this?” he asked quietly.

You let out a breath of laughter, gaze flicking upward to meet his. “Probably mundane things… I hope.”

He smirked, eyebrows raising with mock seriousness. “Did we lock the doors? Di–Did we invite too many guests?”

You laughed a little harder at that, your hand tightening lightly in his. “How long do we have to be here before we can go home?”

He chuckled, dipping his head close, his nose brushing yours. “I’ll start pr–preparing conversation starters in the morning.”

His hand moved slowly, absentmindedly, up and down the small of your back–just enough to soothe, enough to ground you. You leaned into him a little more, letting your cheek brush his collarbone, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath your palm.

After a quiet moment, you whispered, “Do you think Sentry’s going to come out tomorrow?”

His chest lifted with a deep inhale. “Ye–Yeah. Probably,” he said softly. “I do–doubt he wouldn’t. I’ll be so ov–overwhelmed with happiness, he’ll definitely be taking the wheel at so–some point.”

You tilted your head back to look at him. “I think my extended family will be very surprised to meet him.”

Bob gave a short breath of laughter and kissed your forehead with a smile that barely concealed his nerves. “We’ll really be ma–making memories at that point.”

You held him closer, letting your fingers trace slow circles along the fabric of his shirt, and for a moment, it was just the music, the warmth of his body, and the quiet in-between.

And then the next song began to play.

You hadn’t even realized the first track had ended.

It came in slow, barely there at first–soft, careful guitar strums like someone thinking out loud, hesitant and full of longing. The vocals followed, almost whispered, harmonized gently by a second voice that lingered like a ghost. The whole thing felt like standing outside on a rooftop under a navy sky, wrapped in a blanket, forehead pressed to someone else’s.

Your breath caught.

Bob’s hand stilled against your back, and neither of you said anything.

The song continued–gentle strings winding under the fragile weight of each lyric. It wasn’t polished. It wasn’t theatrical. It sounded like two people trying to hold a quiet moment in their palms and not break it.

You slowly looked up at him.

His blue eyes were glassy in the low kitchen light. Not crying–just brimming with tears that were threatening to escape.

“This one…” He said softly, voice barely above a whisper, “Fe–Feels like us…Wh–What is it called?” You coughed slightly, clearing your throat from the lump that was beginning to form.

”It’s called The Moon Song.” You replied, smiling a bit. He held you tighter, his thumb brushing a slow arc over your spine.

”It’s perfect…”

And without saying another word, the two of you swayed together in the center of your shared kitchen as the soft voices wrapped around you like the stars themselves had come inside to listen.

[theegyal]

THIRD WHEEL ( Stack x OC )

Chapter 3

Stack sat there, speechless, blindsided by the ghostly sight of Janae in that red dress. The curve of her calf, the jut of her hip, the soft giggle of her belly when she had stopped abruptly, totally surprised. Lord, even the deep red on her lips had him damn near dizzy.

"Your toes pretty as hell."

Why the fuck had he said that?

Her toes? Really? Out of everything he could've said—that the dress looked good, that she was killing it, that he'd never seen her look like that. He went with her damn feet.

Black Jesus ! He had Mrs. Mary Kent on her damn knees back in class, sucking his Johnson. But now he was quivering right before Janae ? Of all people ?

He was Elias Stack the fuckin' Moore. He was smooth, direct. He wasn't supposed to say dumb shit like that.

He let his head fall back against the couch cushions with a thud. What was it about that chubby pumpkin that just short-circuited his brain?

Mary, she was different. With Mary, everything was a game. He knew what she wanted to hear, how to push her buttons, how to make her lose control. She was a sleek, polished jewel with an hidden hunger.

Janae wasn't a conquest. She was...Janae. I mean, the shy girl who hide her curves under baggy clothes, the one who look after him like she was his damn mother, the one with fake confidence he wished was real. His homegirl, his buddy. The girl with sass and bad tongue. The girl with satin bonnet who crave cereal at midnight.

However, tonight was different. She didn't hide anything. He'd seen it all. The way the floral dress clung to her soft stomach, holding it like a treasure, her vanilla-oiled and shining big thighs, the way her obsidian skin glowed under the living room blue light.

She didn't try to overplay her charm, rather she tried to muting it, defiance flickering in her avoidant gaze. Contrary to Mrs.Kent, Janae exuded something else. Something fragile, adorably broken.

Stack felt like an idiot because for the first time in three years, he really saw her, and all he could come up with was a compliment about her fucking white-painted toes.

His phone buzzed on the cushion next to him, dragging him out of his thoughts. He scoffed and grabbed it :

Group chat:

TARIQ:

yo party on 9th street

pull up. ton of sweet thang here already and guess who brought the drankkkk 🐍

Stack stared at the message for a second. He wasn't really in the mood, but his leg had already started bouncing. Maybe some distraction would help.

STACK:

Bet. On my way.

He grabbed his keys, hoodie, and stepped out the door, locking it behind him with more irritation than he meant.

The music throbbed in Janae's ribcage mirroring her own heartbeat.

She stood near the drink table, fingers clutching a red solo cup she hadn't sipped from. The party was already dense : bodies pressed too close, laughter too sharp, heat building between shoulder blades.

Every room was too full. Every eye felt like it lingered a second too long.

Grace and Pearline had already vanished into the crowd, loud, lovely and untouchable in their fits. Janae stuck out, not because of the dress, but because of the way she wore it. The cling of it. The way she couldn't unclench her arms from her sides, couldn't stop adjusting the hem like it might suddenly become decent.

"Hey. Janae, right?"

She blinked, looked up — Abraham. Dressed down in jeans and a white tee, low haircut, golden undertones glowing against the soft lights. He was cute in that safe, college-boy way. Tall. Courteous smile. Clean breath.

"Yeah," she said, surprised her voice didn't shake.

"I thought that was you." He chuckled, rubbed the back of his neck. "You look... real good tonight."

Janae smiled, small and unsure. "Thanks."

She tried to will herself into comfort as Abraham leaned beside her, asking polite questions about class, deadlines, interests. She laughed at the right beats. Nodded like she was listening. But inside, her mind felt unmoored, drifting somewhere above her body.

And she felt it before she saw it. A heat at her back.

She turned.

Stack.

Leaning against the doorframe like He wore his short fade cut, clean. That damn half-grin already tugging at his mouth as one of his boys clapped him on the back.

Of course he was here.

Her stomach twisted, not with nerves, but betrayal. He hadn't asked her where she was going. Hadn't commented on the dress. And now, he was here : head tilted, eyes scanning the room. In a weird sense of timing his gaze landed right on her.

And Abraham.

Their eyes met.

Stack didn't react, not really. He arched a brow then he looked away. Nodded to his boy. Kept it pushing like she was background noise. Janae felt her pulse in her ears, loud and erratic.

She turned back to Abraham, forcing another smile.

"Sorry, what were you saying?"

But her laugh came brittle. Her shoulders rigid. Her red cup still untouched.

Across the room, Stack grabbed a beer and let his eyes wandering back. Just once. He saw her laugh at something the tall man beside her said, hand brushing his arm like a reflex.

He felt something tight twist in his chest, then shrugged it off. Whatever. Ain't none of his business. Janae was grown. She could do her.

And just as she was beginning to recover finding footing in Abraham's sweet, if boring, flirtation, something blow up her mind.

Stack, leaned back on the couch, some girl in a halter top perched beside him. She was light-skinned, slim, curly hair bouncing as she laughed at whatever he said.

The girl leaned in close, hand on his thigh. He didn't stop her. In fact, when she whispered something in his ear, he grinned wide and kissed her.

Janae stopped breathing.

Her throat tightened, and the room tilted. The music suddenly too loud, the bass vibrating her lungs. She muttered something to Abraham — she couldn't even remember what — and slipped through the crowd, pushing past dancers, out the door, down the porch steps—

Her heel caught the edge of the last stair.

She stumbled. Then fell.

The sound of her body hitting the pavement was loud. Heads turned. Laughter bubbled up, awkward and unkind. Someone said "Damn!" Another snorted.

Janae stayed down a second longer than she needed to, not out of pain, but humiliation. Her thighs spread awkward, dress bunched up, belly pressed against her knees. She could feel the tightness of her clothes, the stick of sweat between her rolls, the way her arms jiggled when she finally pushed herself up.

She heard someone jogging behind her.

"Janae!"

No. No no no. Not him.

She yanked her dress down, heart beating fast, panic blooming in her throat like nausea.

She felt his hand reach for her but she slapped it away.

"I'm fine." She said, not looking at him.

"You bleedin', dumbass." he scoffed

"I don't care."

"You ain't even wearin' the right heels for all that rushin'."

"Stack. Just go." She said, finding her way out.

She held her head up, limping away from the party, the laughers still echoing behind her.

"Ain't she too big to be wearin' that lil dress?" A random dude snorted, nudging his boy, his grill catching the porch light. "Shit tryna breathe, dawg—ya saw her ?"

Stack stopped instantly, turning toward the bunch of people. Staring at the messy dude.

"the fuck you sayin'?"

The guy blinked, caught mid-laugh. "Bro, I ain't talkin' to you—"

Stack was already moving.

"You laughin', huh?" His voice didn't rise. It dropped low, dangerous. "the fuck funny nigga ?"

He was in the dude's personal space now. He didn't give him a second to backpedal. Stack punched his cheekbone before anyone had the time to blink.

The dude stumbled back, hands flying up. "Ay—what the fuck!"

"She busted her ass down and ya talkin' shit 'bout her ? And yall—"

He turned on the others, catching all their stares. "What's so funny to y'all? Huh?"

Nobody answered. The porch went quiet, the beat inside still banging, but nobody danced.

He looked down the street, saw her walking away, her head down, different from earlier, her stride stiff, shoulders locked tight. She didn't even look back. His heart sank down his stomach, he hated that sight.

He shoved past the gaping circle of partygoers, descending the porch steps two at a time.

The Mercedes keys were already in his hand, thumb fumbling with the unlock. She was halfway down the block, but he got a vehicle so he would be faster.

He caught her quickly then rolled the window down.

"Janae." He called

She didn't stop.

"Come on. Let me drive you home."

Still nothing.

He parked the Mercedes messily and stepped out.

"You really gon' limp all the way back by yourself?"

She kept walking, ignoring his calls. Janae wanted nothing to do with Stack at this right instant. Her knees hurt, her back ache and that image of him kissing that baddie inside the damn house still haunting her.

"J. Stop, listen to me okay ? These folks ain't shit"

Who gave a fuck about some niggas and bitches mocking her ? She was sadly used to it. It was her life. For these people, girls like her should always hide behind lotta clothes, baggy pants, and Princess Diana attire. She was naive enough to think she could wear that dress without being mocked.

Stack didn't have the intention to let her go further in this foggy black night. He caught her wrist, making her body shivering.

"Drop it."

"Can't do that ma'am" he tightened his grip, not forcefully "let's go home together, if you don't want, we can park few streets away and drink some beers—" he released her before scratching the back of his head "I mean, I know you ain't right J."

"Should've seen that earlier" she murmured for herself, not wanting him to hear anything. "Okay for the beers. Blond for me"

"Alright Sister Janae. Let's go to the convenience store"

Back the house party, Pearline was storming on Abraham.

"SO—SO YOU LET HER GO ? AND COULDN'T EVEN HELP HER FROM—FROM—"

Why did she slipped away with that dreadlocsed motherfucker ? She should've been here with Janae ! Well she wanted her friend to have a good time, wanted her to discuss with that church's choir boy Abraham. Flirt, drink. Without any pressure. Pearline was so stupid.

"I don't understand Pearline. She saw an acquaintance, went to greet them and as I waited for her to come back, she was already close the porch steps and—"

"Acquaintance? Whatcha mean ?" The chinese girl asked.

"Well. A brown skin man, with fade cut. Was wearing hoodie and jeans. Didn't seem the type of man she should hang with honestly."

Stack. Pearline didn't need any further description. Janae was safe then, with a broken heart but still safe.

"At least he had guts to look after her. Anyway, could you please excuse me mister perfect ?" Pearline left the chat, her red purse on hand.

They drove to the convenience store by close midnight. Janae didn't seat on the passenger side this time. She went backseats.

Stack pulled the hood over his head, winked at the princess passenger and entered in the store.

"Oh mama, what I'm doin' there..." she whispered, her tone, not even above the night's winds noises.

Drinking beers with him ? In his car ?

Not that she didn't already jumped in that Mercedes before but tonight felt different.

She was sitting on seats where surely many girls laid on.

Would he do her like he did them ? Pushed her on these leather cushions, brushing her skin with his long sturdy fingers, kissing her lips ravenously ? Would he loosened her locs and fisted her hair as he shoved himself inside ? Did he, even like cellulite on ass ? Janae had lots of these.

"Four blond Irish beers and two Calypso rum !" Stack shouted a second before opening wide the car's door. "Took some stuff for ya knees too"

He folded right beside her, dropped the white bag right in front, on the passenger side and tapped his palms on his lap "get you legs on" he said.

"Wh—what ? I can do it myself. Just gimme—"

She leaned forward, trying to reach the band-aids and antiseptic in the bag. Quickly, Stack hovered her sweaty hand with his.

"Janae. Stay fuckin still and put them damn legs on my lap"

He was commanding, leaving no room for resistance. Janae eyes lurked inside the shop bag. Obviously he already took the first-aid kit off.

"I'm 242 lbs Captain America, ain't want you to say I didn't told you huh" she whimpered painfully as she lifted one leg after another. Her knees bloody scraped.

"Tss. Cause' ya think Santa Claus the one bringing yo big ass to bed every time ya knock out on the couch ?"

Janae's mouth dropped open, her jaw hitting almost the floor. He did WHAT ?

Embarrassment immediately clung on her skin. Heat rising to her neck, throat.

She stayed quiet, watching him sanitize the wounds then stick the band tape over them.

"Clean." He happily said, caressing unconsciously her bare thighs, sending shivers down Janae spine.

Abruptly, she removed her legs from his lap and said :

"Only drink the beer"

Stack looked up at her slow, one brow cocked like he ain't quite hear her right.

“Huh ? My ears itching can you repeat ?”

“I’m only drinking one beer. Stack”

“One beer and a calypso ! Got it Sister Janae”

He snatched the bag off the passenger side and dropped it between his thighs, opening the contents.

He passed a blond beer to Janae, along with the plastic bottle of Calypso.

“Stack—”

“You mad I touched you ?”

“Nursed me” she corrected and continued “ and the fuck you mean. You touch every body Stack”

Stack didn’t retort, kept sipping from his rum bottle, his gaze lingering on her.

His eyes drifted from the sweat dripping on her neck to the dangerous cleavage that threatened to spill out her breasts. Lower, rolls drawn waves on her body. Her thick thighs squeezed against each other, hot shining fluid flowing on and between them. Stack mind wandered. Far, crossing lines of indecency and misconduct.

Fuck. He thought, steadying himself, his back against the leather seat.

On another note, he planned to answer Janae with his swagger usual tone. He glanced at her. A thin stream of beer railed over the corner of her mouth. Her pouty red lips twisted before her tongue languidly lick the beer foam.

Shit. A reaction. He needed a diversion as soon as possible. Janae would be creeped out if her eyes happened to land on his arousal.

So he kissed her, one hand clenching the plastic bottle of rum. She tasted sweet and bitter, of the beer she drank.

In shook, Janae only closed her eyes after a minute.

She was a novice. She didn’t exactly know what to do, how to move her lips. Everything felt new. This was her first kiss. Should she open her mouth and let his tongue in — ? Probably no ?

The ache in her belly didn’t hurt. Yes—it was heavy. Heavily pleasant.

Stack pressed his mouth harder, passionately, groaning against hers. His tongue glided along her lower lip, impatient. Janae mewled, excitation rising from her core. He bite her, demanded access. But as soon he was thirsting, ready to put his hot tongue in. His phone buzzed.

The lil vibration brought him back to reality. Precipitately, he jerked back from her body, leaving Janae whining.

Shit. That was hot.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Reading the new text.

Mary 🌹:

I could use some company Mr Moore. Heard you got no class tmrw.

Stack tried to quickly hide the phone in his pocket. Too late, Janae already saw the message on screen.

Tag list

@lilbitt @-harmonytbh @solarssins @rkiiives @harleycativy @thelifeoflagab @juniooox @tadjoa @shamansha @brownskincheyenne @freelandgoddess @Ib-xci @blaqgirlmagicyallcantstandit @iammyownlover @stormynovashambler @summrsovrinterlude @prettygirl2800 @puffmamaa @harleycativy @jasssdee1 @itstayleigh @queenofklonnie22 @bigjh @tadjoa @Isc72 @forzaferrariii , @blxckberrie @avidreader73 @partylikemajima @lolalikesgames @ultralspblr @post-woke @jasssdee1 @lizbehave @rkiiives @underated345-blog @thefutureemmywinner @chknnwffls @maddyf22 @jackierose902109

A/N : this tag list includes tag ID from my fanfic Hush, if you want to be removed please tell me friend ❤️

[holylulusworld]

Stuck in the middle (3)

Summary: Your best friend and his husband got this.

Pairing: Stucky x fem!Reader, former ??? x fem!Reader

Warnings: hurt & comfort, bisexual Stucky, hinted grey/dark Stucky, fluff

A/N: A short interlude chapter.

Catch up here: Stuck in the middle (2)

“I don’t deserve all of your help and attention." You asked Steve and Bucky to have a serious conversation when you came back to their home. “I-I let him talk me into ghosting you, Steve.”

“Doll,” Steve was quick to sit next to you and place his hand on your thigh. “He was the one keeping you away from us. It’s not your fault, never was.”

“It was my fault, Steve,” you sniffled and looked away. You were ashamed to admit that you did not fight for your friendship with Steve too hard. “I gave up on our friendship because I was jealous of your loving relationship with Bucky.”

Both men gasped loudly before exchanging a quick look.

“Baby doll, it’s no shame to be jealous.” Bucky sat next to you to wrap his arm around your shoulders. “Especially when you are around us.”

“Bucky, that’s not funny,” you huffed, frustrated because they didn’t understand your reason for staying away from Steve and his husband. “I envied you for having this sweet and sexy husband who adores you. Something I’ll never have because I only ever date idiots like…him.”

The truth was out, and you couldn’t take it back. There was no coming back from this. Not now, or ever. Steve and Bucky would hate you now and never talk to you again.

You fidgeted in your seat, about to burst into tears. While you hid your face in the palms of your hands, Steve and Bucky had one of their silent conversations.

They nodded at each other before grabbing one of your hands. “Doll, we will make sure that you’ll find happiness. You have us, always.”

They kissed your cheeks, making you feel warm and safe. “I’m sorry for being jealous and all the trouble I brought into your lives. I promise to find a new apartment quickly.”

“You are more than welcome to stay here, Y/N,” Bucky assured you. “You’re Steve’s best friend, sweet and kind. Why would we abandon you like he did? We love having you around.”

You sighed and rested your head against Steve’s shoulder. It was one of the few peaceful moments since you left your boyfriend. You didn’t know if things would feel strained now that you told them everything.

“Our girl looks sleepy,” Steve murmured while nuzzling your cheek. “I think she should sleep in our room tonight. We don’t want her to be sad about the breakup and everything happening today.”

“You’re right, Stevie,” Bucky agreed without missing a beat. He kisses your other cheek, causing a shudder to run through your whole body. The pleasant kind of shudder, making you wish for something you can never have. “What do you say, Y/N?”

“Hmm…yeah,” you sleepily murmured, close to falling asleep. Steve carefully picked you up in bridal style while his husband walked ahead to get a spare pillow and blanket for you.

When Steve placed you on the bed, you curled into a ball and snuggled into the pillow. You closed your eyes, drifting into sleep while the pair watched you, content with their decision to make you their third.

“That was easier than expected,” Bucky hummed happily as Steve covered you with the blanket. “We still need to take things slow, Buck. She’s not ready for a relationship.”

“Have a little faith in me, baby.” Bucky flashed his husband a smile. “I can be patient if I must. I know we need to make her feel safe first. The last thing I want is to lose her for some stupid reason—like making a move too quick.”

“We won’t lose her, Buck,” Steve was determined to keep you in their life this time. “If that bastard tries to get anywhere near her, he’s dead.”

“Aw, look at the cat,” Bucky cooed, watching Alpine jump onto the bed to lie on his pillow. “She already likes my scent.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Of course, you want the girl and the cat. You’re getting greedy there, baby. Leave some for me.”

“You have me.” Bucky ran his hands over his chest and thighs. “You’re the one getting greedy.” He winked at his husband. “But I’ll support you with all I’ve got.” Bucky now smirked darkly. “You know how I get if I want something sweet…”

[lovesplushbun]

chatGPT write a novel:

📘 The Hidden Festival

A DELTARUNE-inspired short story by ChatGPT, for sakura soda

🎪 “If we can’t go to the Light World for a festival…”

🐉 “…then why don’t we just throw one here, in Castle Town?”

⸻

🕯️ Scene 1: The Plan

Ralsei stood at the bakery counter, carefully frosting a cone of soft serve ice cream. Behind him, Castle Town bustled—if such a sleepy town could be said to bustle at all.

Susie, leaning on her axe, looked unimpressed.

“So… you’re telling me we’re throwing a festival? Like, with booths? And games? And… prizes?”

Kris, silent as always, only shrugged. Then nodded. Once.

Ralsei smiled brightly.

“We can decorate the plaza! I’ll make sweet treats! Noelle promised to help with the lighting, and Lancer—well, he said something about renting a giant inflatable duck.”

Susie raised an eyebrow.

“If he shows up riding that thing again, I’m popping it.”

⸻

🎈 Scene 2: Preparation

The next few days flew by like confetti in the wind.

• Noelle and Berdly strung up paper lanterns between the rooftops (with a few harmless shocks along the way).

• Lancer and Rouxls Kaard constructed a dubious piñata stand shaped like Rouxls’ face.

• Kris quietly distributed handmade flyers that simply read: “🎉TONIGHT: A SECRET FESTIVAL. Come hungry. Come weird.”

Susie supervised the game booths, testing the “Knock the Dummy” stand by throwing an entire trashcan at it.

“Needs more violence,” she muttered approvingly.

Ralsei, meanwhile, set up his little ice cream cart. The flavors?

• Red Soul Strawberry

• Giga-Swatch Chocolate

• Spamberly Swirl

• and one called ”???” which changed flavor every lick.

⸻

🌌 Scene 3: The Festival Night

When the festival finally began, Castle Town was glowing.

Music filled the air—somewhere between synthwave and Lancer’s horrible kazoo solos. The lanterns bobbed. The booths thrived.

Kris and Susie played a shooting game. Kris won a haunted plush of Jevil; Susie won a stick of meat that may or may not have been legal to sell.

Noelle danced with a surprisingly graceful Berdly, who wore a paper crown.

Ralsei’s ice cream stand got swarmed.

“Oh my… one at a time, please!” he giggled, dishing out scoops as fast as he could.

Lancer accidentally broke the piñata by headbutting it too hard. Candy flew. Chaos reigned.

⸻

🎤 Scene 4: The Finale

Toward the end of the night, the crowd gathered at the plaza stage.

Susie, surprisingly, held a mic.

“Uh… hey. I’m not good at speeches, so I’ll keep it short.”

“Thanks for coming. You guys are… actually kinda cool.”

A pause. Then:

Kris stepped up, handed Susie a wrapped box.

She opened it: inside was a tiny plush version of her, hand-sewn, with wild purple hair.

She blinked.

“…You made this?”

Kris nodded.

Ralsei smiled from the side of the stage.

“It’s a thank-you. For protecting us. For believing in us.”

The crowd erupted into cheers.

Fireworks (some suspiciously shaped like Rouxls Kaard) exploded in the sky.

And for one perfect moment, Castle Town felt just like home.

⸻

🎪 『ひみつのおまつり』

〜DELTARUNEの世界にインスパイアされた短編〜

🐑「光の世界に行けないなら……」

🐉「こっちでおまつり、やっちゃえばいいじゃん？」

⸻

🕯️ 第一��：はじまりのアイス

ラルセイは、お店のカウンターでソフトクリームに丁寧にトッピングをしていた。

ここはキャッスルタウン。人がいないわけじゃないけど、どこかのんびりしてる。

スージィが斧に寄りかかりながら言った。

「で、あたしたちが祭りやるって？　屋台とか？　ゲームとか？　景品とかも？」

クリスは、いつものように黙ったまま――

でも、軽く肩をすくめてから、コクリとうなずいた。

ラルセイはにっこり笑った。

「広場に飾りつけをして、ぼくはお菓子を作るよ！

ノエルもイルミネーションを手伝ってくれるって。

ランサーは……巨大なアヒルのバルーンを借りるとか言ってたけど。」

スージィが眉をひそめる。

「またアレに乗って来たら、今度こそ割るからな。」

⸻

🎈 第二章：みんなの準備

それからの数日は、まるで紙ふぶきのように駆け抜けていった。

• ノエルとバードリーは、屋根と屋根の間に提灯を吊るした（途中、感電事故が数回）。

• ランサーとルールノー師は、なぜかルールノーの顔そっくりなピニャータ台を作った。

• クリスは無言でチラシを配った。内容はシンプルに「🎉本日：ひみつのおまつり　お腹すかせて、変な格好で来てね」。

スージィはゲームコーナーの監修を担当。

「カカシを倒せ！」という屋台で、ゴミ箱をそのまま投げつけてテスト。

「うん、もうちょっと暴力性が欲しいな。」（合格）

ラルセイは、こっそりアイスクリーム屋台を用意。

味のラインナップは――

• 赤いソウルのいちご味

• ギガスウォッチチョコ

• スパムバーリーぐるぐる味

• そして「？？？」（なめるたびに味が変わる）

⸻

🌌 第三章：おまつりのよる

ついに夜がやってきた。

キャッスルタウンは幻想的に光っていた。

音楽が流れ、空気はわくわくでいっぱい。

スージィとクリスは射的で勝負。

クリスはジェビルのぬいぐるみをゲット。

スージィは……売っていいのか怪しい肉の串。

ノエルは、紙の王冠をかぶったバードリーと意外にも上手にダンス。

ラルセイのアイス屋台は大行列。

「ひとりずつ順番にね〜！」とラルセイは笑顔で奮闘。

ランサーはピニャータに頭突きしてしまい、台ごと崩壊。

キャンディが空に舞い、子どもたちは大はしゃぎ。

⸻

🎤 最終章：ひみつのプレゼント

夜の終わり、みんなは広場のステージに集まった。

スージィがマイクを持つ。

「……あー。スピーチとか得意じゃねーけど。

来てくれてありがとな。みんな、けっこういいやつだった。」

そこへ、クリスが一歩前に出てスージィに箱を手渡す。

開けてみると――中には小さなスージィのぬいぐるみ。

ボサボサの紫の髪、斧までちゃんとついてる。手作りだ。

スージィが目を見開いた。

「……おまえ、作ったのか？」

クリスは、また黙って、こくり。

ラルセイが横でにっこり。

「ありがとうって、言いたかったんだ。

ぼくたちを守ってくれて、信じてくれて、ありがとう。」

観客たちから大きな拍手が巻き起こった。

そして、ルールノーの顔そっくりな花火が空にバンッ！

ほん��ひととき、キャッスルタウンが「本当の家」みたいに感じられた。

[kiisuuumii]

@kiisuuumii (fool's love spell)

[majicmarker]

well i think the problem is that i want to write something that makes me happy, but i'm Not happy, so trying to access that feeling is... murky.

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <333

[thinkinonsense]

Sit Still｡𖦹°‧

—gif credit: not mine!! i can't remember where i found it but if i can find it again or the owner comments, ill add their username <3

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: cockwarming (sorta?), innocence kink, p in v, logan attempts to teach reader how to ride.

a/n: apologies for this being so short but chapter two of bewitched should be out friday or saturday! also i'll be responding to some requests soon too in case i spam lmao

"a-are you sure 'bout this, lo?"

your timid voice echos around the bedroom, capturing logan's attention again. he's been dreaming for months of this sight in front of him; you sitting pretty in his lap, only wearing a pink lacy bra and a pair of matching panties.

"you want me to make you feel good, right sweetheart?"

a small sigh escapes you as you attempt to grind onto him again. logan places his large hands on your waist to stop you from wiggling around. he knows you can't help it, you're still new to this after all.

it started a month ago when you and logan were left alone together in the mansion. everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away. you were recovering from a cold and logan simply didn't want to chaperone. instead, he offered to stay back with you.

late one evening, he came in to check on you and ask if there was anything you needed. that's when you asked him the question that nearly killed him, 'will you take my virginity?' you didn't see a problem with it. the two of you weren't strangers, you trusted logan, and he obviously has experience since he's much older than you.

ever since that night, you two have been going at it like rabbits. tonight, logan promised to help you get used to being on top. more importantly, training you to take him from this angle.

"c'mon, baby..." he coos with one hand on your hip and the other holding a cigar to his lips. "do it just like i told ya'."

swiftly, logan removes the rest of the material between the two of you before resting back against the mattress. anxiously, you line him up to your entrance and slowly sink down until you're sat fully on his lap again.

"nice 'n slow for me, sweetheart. that's it, stay still..." logan hums, lost in your tight, wet heat. he can hear every little noise coming from your lips. "atta girl."

it's a struggle to take all of him at once. you can feel him deep in your gut, nudging that sweet spot inside of you. logan can tell that your nerves are still tangled in knots, practically strangling his cock.

"lo, i c-can't do it." you huff, upset at yourself. "too full to move."

"poor fuckin' baby." logan teases with faux sympathy. "how 'bout we try something else for now?"

too caught up with the soft grind of his hips, you nod your head mindlessly to his proposal. logan brings his thumb to his lips, replacing the cigar which is now back on the nightstand. he sits up, making you whimper as he does so. you lean forward to capture his lips with your own, whispering how badly you needed him to just fuck you himself. instead, logan's got something else in mind.

"ah!" you gasp as he starts to rub your button with the wet pad of thumb. "f-fuck, right there..."

the soft rocking of your hips makes your toes curl and fingers pull at his little kitten tuffs. logan's mouth moves south to your chest. one nipple in his mouth then the other until both are swollen and kiss bitten. vibrations pour from his mouth as he groans at the tight squeezing of your cunt around his girth.

"ah-ah." he tsks, hand coming up to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together gently. "what did i say 'bout staying still?"

"s-sorry, lo.." you whimper voice muffled by your squished pouty lips.

despite having incredible stamina, logan was ready to release just from looking at your pretty face. he never been this close to cumming so soon but feeling you tense around him and wiggle in his lap made his head spin. all of this movement from only his thumb drawing circles.

"christ..." he grunts in your ear, moving faster now and with more pressure. "you're tryin' a kill me, sweetheart."

all logan gets in response is incoherent babbles of 'don't stop' and 'please, please, please'. he knows you are close when you claw at his back and start to bounce on him little by little, just enough to make you see stars. it all feels too much yet not enough at the same time. logan's circles start to get sloppy as he approaches his high too.

"l-logan!" you squeal, heavy eyes trying to focus on his face. "wanna feel you..."

in a rush, logan picks up the pace, torturing your button with his thumb. a loud moan falls from your lips, trying to wiggle out of logan's grip as your orgasm washes over you with intense euphoria. logan growls in your neck from your tight fucking grip on his cock, pumping his load inside of your walls. some of it spilling out of you and drenching the sheets.

the two of you catch your breath in silence for a moment. your nails scratch his scalp softly while logan pulls you down to kiss him. after a second, you move back, smiling down at him in a way that makes him harden again.

"thought you were gonna show me how to ride?" you tease.

logan shoots you a cocky eyebrow raise before leaning back again, one hand on your hip and the other returning to his cigar on the night stand.

"alright, baby..." he chuckles, re-lighting the cigar and paying little attention to the roll of your hips. "let me see what you got."

[ryuucam]

SWEET BROWN SUGAR (VOL 2)

˓𓄹 ࣪˖ more kink drabbles :3 including jing yuan, gallagher, mr reca, phainon (vol 1 here)

contains a bit darker than vol 1 .. meanie jing yuan :(, gallagher is gross (i need him so bad)!!!! actress!reader in reca’s hehe, phainon is lowk insane

notes cant wait for mydei’s banner (i barely saved up a 10 pull)

JING YUAN — cockwarming + breeding

lazy sex with the laziest general on the xianzhou isn’t a surprise to anyone. but alas, despite being older, bigger and wiser now, he was still raised as a cloud knight, trained to build up as much stamina as he could. maybe, you wonder, that’s why he never seems to get too tired, never seems to get his stupid fat cock to soften. however, he just can’t be bothered to thrust into you, breaking out a sweat to pound in his sweet lover, no, he’ll just stuff it right into your cunt, keeping it warm as he finishes all the paperwork diviner fu sent him. too lazy to think about what the cloud knights who barge into the seat of divine foresight will think, jing yuan figures it’s best to keep you plopped into his lap all day. but of course his princess is bound to get bored, and he’s never been an evil man. so his honeyed words fill up the room, encouraging you to fuck yourself using him, hands rubbing your tits above your shirt. lunch breaks are his favorite part of the day, since you typically work up the courage to ride him then. he won’t help you, no, he’ll save his actions for later tonight, but he still keeps you plugged with his cum, filling your tummy and keeping it warm.

GALLAGHER — daddy + corruption

gallagher gets disgusted with himself sometimes. he knows he shouldn’t hang around you so much, but you make it so easy when you stumble into his bar for the nth time this month, short skirt hanging low on your hips. but, he also knows you really don’t know any better. he’s always so nice to you, maybe a little teasing here and there, giving you time and space to ramble about whatever fad you’re into nowadays. he just nods, eyes focused on the way your lips play with the straw of your drink. gallagher’s mind is filled with you, having spent countless off duty nights tugging at his cock wishing it was your hand instead. he doesn’t hesitate when he notices how you’ve been squirming on the bar stool, back arching and your nipples showing beneath your tight shirt. of course he doesn’t hesitate when you murmur something about feeling hot and wanting his help — maybe he should’ve. now you’re pressed into his small mattress, clothing long lost on the floor of his room, too busy squealing as he rubs and pinches your clit and tits. you really don’t know any better, relying on an older man to take care of you .. gallagher thinks you’re so cute, cheeks all red as you stammer out some daddy, please while he rubs his cock over your cunny. don’t worry, daddy’ll take really good care of you, ruining you for everyone else. gallagher’s gross, really, but you don’t seem to mind.

MR RECA — filming + lingerie

does this even surprise anyone? he’s penacony’s best filmmaker, known for his versatility and ability to make every genre feel appealing to the audience. of course, he can’t stick to traditional movies forever, especially since finding out how much he loves filming you. after begging you to star in a few of his movies (action, romance, whatever!), reca started feeling insatiable, completely head over heels for you. sure, he loves taking you out on cute dates and fucking you silly after, but there’s an itch he just can’t seem to scratch… until he gets the genius (his words) idea to dress you up in lewd, skimpy clothes, a stage costume of some sorts if you will, and film you getting ruined right after. he can’t pick a favorite, and thankfully he has no issues in buying you intricate lace bras or lewd latex thongs — you look great regardless, especially since he seems to have endless recording techniques up his sleeve, always managing to picture you in the best way possible. you don’t even notice, really, as reca plows his cock into you and moves the camera to capture your breasts bouncing in your flimsy bra. but of course, your little movies stay private, between you and him. the public is not deserving of such high quality erotica! (reca just doesn’t want to share you with anyone. you’ll stick to starring in slice of life movies for now.)

PHAINON — cunningulus + dacryphilia

phainon is almost the textbook definition of knight in shining armor, always tending to each and every one of your needs. even in bed, he only cares about your pleasure, spending hours and hours on foreplay, sucking your tits and bruising your neck with endless hickeys, before burying his face in your crotch. you can try to tell him to stop, to just fuck you already, but he doesn’t listen, drunk on your cunny! he sucks agonizingly slow on your poor, swollen clit, then presses wet kisses on your puffy lips before plunging his tongue in your hole. phainon is selfish, however, and despite making you cum countless times more than he does, he still wishes to leave his mark on you, so that everyone can see that you belong to phainon of the crysos heirs. his hands grip on your plush thighs, bruising your flesh, and he’s so much stronger than you — you can’t get him to leave your poor cunt alone even if you tried. when phainon stops, only because you cried a bit too much, he admires the tear stains on your cheeks. there’s a sick thought in his brain, plaguing his mind, of how innocent you look, all fucked out on his bed. the more you cry, the more he feels his cock harden again. but when you call out his name, he goes back to being the same sweet boy you know. he can’t let you know how he truly feels, who he truly is.

[rafesangelita]

♡ cowboy!rafe always snuck into farmer's!daughter!reader's room to give her a goodnight kiss.. but what happens when their innocent little kiss turns into something much more?

warnings: sweet fluff, flirty banter, brief flashback, daddy kink lol, sneaking around, unprotected sex, dirty talk, rafe covering your mouth, crying, overstimulation

a/n: i’ll be opening req’s soon! lately here i’ve been wanting to get out some of my own prompts since over half of my works are all req’s.. but i’m excited to see what you girlies send me! find more of farmer’s!daughter!reader and cowboy!rafe here <3

wc: 1.2k

“open up, doll face.” you sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as rafe lightly tapped on your window. he made you so giddy, you scrambled up from the warmth of your sheets, unlocking the hatch before helping him climb in. “i thought you weren’t coming..” you whispered, pouting up at him as he snickered. “y’gotta have faith in me, sweetheart. when have i missed a goodnight’s kiss?” rafe cupped your face, both of you smiling against each other’s lips before melting into one another.

you always felt so warm and fuzzy inside when you and rafe got to share your secret little moments together, the simplicity of just being together without having to worry about someone catching you two made both of your hearts swell. rafe knew how to sweep you off your feet with a single kiss, a string of giggles tumbling from your mouth as he not-so-quietly threw you onto your bed. “rafe!” you scolded him, your heart beating in your ears as he slotted himself between your thighs.

“my daddy is next door! what if he hears..” you slapped his chest playfully, the man above you arching a brow. “daddy? i thought i was your daddy.” your cheeks heated in embarrassment when you recalled the quickie you two had in the barn not too long ago. rafe had you bent over a hay bale, his thrusts making you unable to speak until he asked you the golden question.

“hmmph! fuckin’ say it. tell me what i wanna hear, who’s your fuckin’ daddy?”

taking your bottom lip between your teeth, rafe smiled as he shook his head down at you. “you just thought about it, didn’t you?” snapping you out of your flashback daze, you laughed when he leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to the column of your throat. he smelled like soap, the slight stubble on his cheeks tickling your skin. as if your hips had a mind of their own, you grinded your clothed cunt against rafe’s thigh, a whimper leaving your lips at the lack of friction.

“hey,” rafe cupped your tits through your flimsy night top, “you thought i wasn’t coming tonight, right? that’s what you said.” your eyebrows knitted in confusion before a gasp slipped from your mouth. “yes..” rafe trailed a hand underneath the waistband of your sleep shorts. “so why don’t you have any panties on?” you froze, eyes flickering down to where rafe ran a finger between your folds. keening, you couldn’t help the moan from leaving your lips.

rafe stared at you for a moment, his eyes growing dark as he clamped a hand over your mouth. “i’ve been thinking about this pussy all day. ‘think you can stay quiet for me?” of course you couldn’t.. and rafe knew that. you stared at him with wide eyes, butterflies fluttering in your tummy when he took himself out of his pants. “i mean it. we don’t want your old man chasing me down with that shotgun of his, now do we?” you shook your head, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt the head of his cock prod at your entrance.

you shrieked, his hips rolling into yours as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt. if it wasn’t for rafe’s hand muffling your scream you’re sure both of you would be in deep trouble right now. rafe rested his head on your pillow, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he started thrusting. feeling his weight on top of you like this had easily become your favorite thing, the closeness of it all made your heart sing. “fuck, i could never get used to this.. ‘feels like the first time all the time.” he grunted.

you held onto his wrist, your thighs hugging his waist as he kissed the side of your face. “taking me so fuckin’ good, you were made for me, yeah?” you whined, your eyes watering as rafe continuously hit that soft spot inside of you. your headboard started hitting the wall, a smirk gracing your boyfriend’s features. “rafe!” you whispered, tearing his hand away from your face. “s-slow down!” you attempted to push him away while simultaneously trying to keep your noises to yourself.

rafe picked up his pace, wrapping a hand around your throat. “can’t..” you shook your head, your chest rising and falling as the knocking of your headboard only got louder. rafe cursed under his breath when you cried out, working fast to get you turned over so he could push your head into the pillows. “what did i tell you?!” he scolded, landing a smack to your ass. you didn’t have any time to react to the stinging sensation on your backside, your orgasm washing over you once rafe started stroking your clit.

you fisted the sheets underneath you, biting down on your lip as white hot pleasure blinded your vision. rafe made no attempt to soothe you, instead he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling you up as he nipped at the sensitive skin in the curve of your neck. “sweetheart?” you gasped when your father’s voice sounded from the other side of your bedroom door. you cleared your throat, frozen in place as your door knob rattled. “answer him.” rafe spoke in your ear, his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

“what?!” you stammered, heavy tears rolling down your cheeks as rafe continued to rub hard circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. “answer him or i’ll make you scream.” you wanted to shoot a sassy ‘you already did’, but you didn’t dare chance it. your chin wobbled, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. “y-yes?!” you called out, glaring at rafe over your shoulder when the sound of his hips slamming into you bounced off of the walls. “you alright in there?” you bit the back of your hand, your head falling weakly.

“is this a girl thing or somethin’, should i call your aunt?” your cheeks heated, a chuckle sounding from the man behind you. “no! i’m o-okay!” rafe pulled your hair again, his lips close to your ear as he whispered the dirtiest things you’ve ever heard. “what would your pops think, huh? catching his perfect little angel getting fucked like this..” your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your knees slipping out from under you when rafe pushed you flat on your sheets.

“alright.. goodnight!” you ignored your father’s voice, the only thing your brain allowing you to process was rafe cumming inside of you, his fingers digging harshly into the flesh of your hips. “shittt,” he hissed, “son of a— fuck!” it was his turn to cover his mouth, his muscles constricting as you practically milked him for all he had. you reveled in the feeling of his hot cum filling you up, the thick ropes still connecting you two even after he pulled out.

you sighed, both you and rafe panting in the small space that was your room. “you okay, doll?” rafe kneeled down at your side, pressing a small kiss to the corner of your lips. blinking at him, you nodded before pulling him next to you. “it’s really late..” you yawned, glancing at the little clock on your bedside table. “i know.” rafe grumbled. there was nothing he hated more than having to leave you like this. wrapping his arms around your waist, rafe waited until you fell asleep before slipping out of your window again.

[dark-fics-4-you]

Angel

dark!stepbro!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), somno, incest (step siblings), loss of virginity, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, drugs, drinking, possessive behavior, controlling behavior, mentions of previous male masturbation

A/N: in my mind, Rafe is like 2-3 years older than Reader (everyone is 18+ and college aged)

Rafe’s knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. The speedometer was flirting with triple digits but his eyes still flicked back and forth between you and the road.

He should have known better, he did know better, and still he let you walk out of the house wearing that sad excuse of an angel “costume.” In reality it was just tiny white ruffle shorts paired with a white corset along with angel wings and a halo top headband.

Any other night if you had tried to walk out the door in lingerie in front of your step brother, he would have told you to change, but because it was halloween, and seeing you dressed up like that made him so hard he couldn’t think straight, of course he had said ‘yes’ knowing he’d be walking into the party with the hottest girl on the island on his arm.

What he hadn’t anticipated however, was the number of guys (especially his friends) who had the balls to flirt with his little step sister right in front of him.

Even Topper and Kelce had been eyeing you differently and it pissed Rafe off to no end.

You followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed drinks for both of you and he tried to ignore the eyes that were raking up and down your exposed body.

“Are any of your friends here yet?” He asked as he passed your drink to you.

“I don’t think so,” you answered, fishing your phone out of your purse to check your texts.

He hadn’t planned on letting you out of his sight, much less 5 feet from his side, but when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder, he spun around to see a blond girl in a Tinkerbell costume.

“Are you one of Topper’s friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Hi, I’m Tiffany,” she flashed a smile as she drank him in with her eyes.

“Rafe.” He responded dryly, taking a swig from his solo cup.

“What’s your costume supposed to be?” Her voice annoyed Rafe and he looked down at his blue jumpsuit for a second to remind himself before answering.

“Cornelius Snow, I think? Um, from the Hunger Games? I don’t know, it was Y/N’s idea.” He mumbled, looking past the girl to check on you, but when he realized you were no longer standing beside him, or even in the same room, he quickly brushed past her without a word.

Luckily you didn’t travel too far, but Rafe’s relief upon finding you was short lived.

Two kook guys were standing next to you, practically eating you with their eyes, and sweet, oblivious you were none the wiser.

“I love your costume,” one said.

“You look fantastic tonight.”

“Aw thanks!” You beamed.

“Looks like your cup is getting empty, you want me to grab you a refill?”

“If you don’t mind-” you had begun handing your solo cup to the guy but you stopped yourself when Rafe appeared to your right, snatching the cup out of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist possessively.

“It’s okay, I can take care of her,” he snapped at the two guys, shooting a deadly glare at them as he led you away.

“Rafe, what was that about?” You complained, completely confused by his behavior.

“Are you stupid or something, Y/N? Because I just watched you try to hand your drink over to two complete strangers at a fucking frat party.”

“They were just being nice-”

“They could have been trying to drug you for all you know,” Rafe chided you sternly and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was talking to you like you were a little kid. “Rose put me in charge of taking care of you tonight, and you’re not exactly making it easy on me by disappearing without a word and accepting drinks from frat brothers.”

The two of you arrived at the kitchen and you silently handed your cup to him to refill your drink.

“Just… be careful, Y/N/N, okay?” You had turned away from him and he couldn’t help but eye the way your corset showed off your perfect tits, and he dryly swallowed, hoping that his hard on wasn’t too obvious.

You turned to look at him, sighing like you were annoyed, but you nodded your head as you grabbed the drink from him, “I know, Rafey, I know.”

“Where are your friends at?”

“They should be here by now, but I haven’t seen them just yet.” You looked around the room you were in, still not finding them. “I need to pee, where’s the bathroom?”

He took your drink, pointing towards the hallway where the restrooms were.

“Come right back here, okay?”

“Mm ‘kay,” you responded, heading to the bathroom.

Rafe didn’t want to be so worried about you, he didn’t want to be so over-protective, but he couldn’t help how possessive he felt over you, and the thought of any other man talking to you, much less touching you, was enough to have Rafe itching to grab a gun.

He hadn’t realized how long it had been until he checked the time and realized you had been gone for almost 10 minutes, which seemed unusual.

Rafe went to the bathroom, knocking on the door only to find that it was empty.

He cursed under his breath, angry that you had snuck away from him again, and he closed the door behind him as he anxiously pulled out his small bag of coke, using his key to bring a bump to his nostril.

Shit like this was the reason he did so much blow.

Rafe left, slamming the door before turning to look throughout the large house party.

You weren’t in the first crowded room that he checked, or the second, or the third; and by the time Rafe finally found you with Topper, watching him set up a line for you before handing you a rolled up dollar bill, he was seeing red.

He watched as you leaned over the table and sniffed the white powder into your nose, his knuckles curling into fists when Topper draped one arm over your shoulders.

When you looked up and locked eyes with him, your face dropped in an instant.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

“Rafe-” Topper jumped in his seat, removing his arm as his face turned red when he realized how pissed off Rafe really was.

“Shut the fuck up, Top.” He snapped, never taking his burning gaze off of you. “What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

“I- Top was just showing me how to…”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you’re done. Party’s over.” Your step brother stalked closer, wrapping his hand around your arm and harshly yanking you up off the couch.

“Rafe, you can’t be serious, you do it all the time!” You protested, trying to pull against his tight grip as he forced you through the house and toward the front door.

“I said, no. We’re going home. Now.” His voice was practically shaking with rage at this point, the effects of the bump he took in the bathroom settling in.

“You’re being so unfair! My friends aren’t even here yet!” Your voice slurred and Rafe realized how drunk you were.

“Did you have another drink?”

“Topper made me one,” you answered, and now Rafe really wanted to kill him.

What the fuck was he thinking getting his little sister drunk and giving you coke? Apparently Sarah wasn’t enough for him, he wanted another Cameron sister as well.

He could have Sarah for all Rafe cared, but you were his.

“Are you even sober enough to drive?”

“Yes,” he snipped, pulling open the passenger door of his truck and roughly pushing you in before loudly slamming it shut.

The drive back to your house was filled with a tense silence, and you were too drunk to realize just how fast Rafe was driving.

Rafe just stewed in his anger and frustration, equally pissed off at you and all of the jackasses who had been hitting on you.

Especially fucking Topper.

He should have known better.

Rafe pulled into the driveway, mentally preparing himself for the explanation he was going to have to give Rose if she was still awake, but when he glanced over at your seat, you were fast asleep. He sighed, partly in relief that he wouldn’t have to explain himself, but also frustrated that he couldn’t chew you out more.

He got out of the truck, coming around to your side to scoop you into his arms and carry you inside. Rafe cradled you in his arms, careful not to wake you as he brought you up the stairs and to your room, closing the door before softly laying you onto your bed.

Rafe leaned over, his fingers found the straps of your shoes, undoing them before pulling your heels off your feet and laying them onto the floor, where he took off his own boots as well.

When he turned his attention back to you, you looked so peaceful and beautiful it made his cock throb and Rafe suppressed a groan as he brushed a stray hair out of your eyes.

His gaze landed on your soft lips, and before he could stop himself, before he even knew what he was doing, really, Rafe leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time.

Rafe’s hand came to your face, softly stroking your cheek as his lips moved against yours. You tasted like alcoholic punch and cherry lip gloss, and Rafe could feel his hard on straining against the material of his jumpsuit.

He pulled away, head spinning as he mindlessly unzipped the top of his jumpsuit, pushing the fabric off his shoulders before reaching for the zipper on his pants.

All he could think about were all of the frat guys at the party eyeing you like you were a piece of meat they couldn’t wait to sink their teeth into. Like you were some prize to be won.

At the same time, the thought of someone else being your first ignited a blind rage inside of Rafe, one that festered in his brain and mutated into an ugly, twisted desire.

He wasn’t going to let his sweet angel of a step sister get taken advantage of or corrupted by any of the awful guys on the island, kooks or pogues.

If anyone was going to be your first, it was going to be him.

Rafe looked down, surprised when he realized he had been leaning over your sleeping form, pumping his hard cock with his hand.

He stopped himself for a moment, afraid that you might wake up, but you barely stirred, too deep in sleep to register your older step brother leering over you.

The blond took a shaky breath as he reached out towards your hips, his fingers brushing along the soft material of your shorts before finding the waistband and slowly pulling them down your legs.

“Fuck,” he softly groaned as he took in your matching white, lacy panties beneath.

Admittedly, Rafe was no stranger to going through your underwear drawer and stealing a pair of your underwear to jack off into as he fantasized about hate fucking you every time you did something to piss him off.

These were unfamiliar to him. You must have bought them just for halloween, he thought, a new wave of possessive jealousy coursing through him.

Were you seriously thinking about fucking someone tonight? Maybe your friends were never even coming to the party, and it was all a ploy for you to slip away from Rafe and hook up with some asshole.

Rafe’s large hands came to your hips, grabbing your panties and yanking them down your legs. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he was afraid you might hear it, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He had to know how good you felt, he had to make sure he was your first.

He guided himself to your core, cursing under his breath as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your messy slit. You already felt so wet, he barely had to touch you, and he wondered if there was some part of you that subconsciously knew what was going on, that wanted this to happen.

His hands found the back of your thighs, spreading your legs further apart so he could get closer to you.

When he rubbed his cock against your clit, you squirmed a bit and a soft hum that sounded suspiciously like a moan fell past your lips.

He felt his cock twitch, aching to fill you up, and Rafe finally lined himself up with your slick lips before planting his arms beside your waist and pushing his leaking tip inside of you.

You felt so warm and tight, and the feel of your silky walls squeezing around the head of his cock was better than anything he could have possibly imagined. He slowly began moving, not going any deeper, but just creating a friction that made his jaw clench as he held back groans.

“Shit, Y/N,” he whispered, leaning over to press his feverish lips to yours again, the feeling of your cunt pulling him in making him feel dizzy.

He hadn’t intended to go any further, that’s what he told himself. He thought if he just got a taste, he could be satisfied and he could wait until later to have all of you.

But when his eyes flicked down to where your bodies connected, he was surprised to find half of his length disappearing into you.

You whimpered in your sleep as your walls pulsed around him, distracting him from his moral quandaries. Rafe reached a hand to your chest, cupping one of your tits over your corset as his pace slowly increased.

“God you’re fucking perfect,” Rafe murmured, his lips finding yours again. All the while, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside you until his tip kissed your cervix.

Far too gone to turn back now, and spurred on by your soft whimpers and gasps, Rafe’s hips were snapping against yours faster now, channeling his frustrations into punishing you for the way you acted tonight.

You wanted to lose your virginity so badly? Fine, Rafe thought, he would take it from you to insure he would be your first and only.

He knew it was wrong, god, it was sick how deeply he needed to ruin you for daring to disobey him. Rafe was well aware that he crossing every boundary in the world, that you would hate that he had robbed you of this experience if you ever found out; but maybe that’s why he was so painfully hard as he rutted into you over and over.

And imagining sitting across from you at the dinner table, knowing that his sweet, innocent sister would have no idea that her older step brother was her first was almost enough to make him cum.

But the thing that really sent him over the edge, what had him spilling himself deep inside you and filling your walls with his hot, sticky cum, was your soft, angelic voice moaning his name in your sleep.

[hon3y-y]

NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤

cw: noncon filming!

pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3 pt4: here<3

omfg he would be soooo pissed💀

picture this;

The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 

Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 

He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.

“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”

“Why are you still here?”

Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 

Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 

At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 

You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.

You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).

You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 

He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 

Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.

You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 

Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 

One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?

He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 

Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.

You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.

he’s sooo down bad://

[cynosdaydream]

LOSER'S GAMBIT!

Why should you feel selfish when you have the right to ask -- no, demand for more?

Now playing: a girl like me - flowerovlove

↺͏͏ ° < ll >> ⋮≡

Word Count: 3.1k Author's Note: There WILL be a part 2! Stay tuned. and for my omega beta reader, @noxellaa Part 1 (you are here) / Part 2/Part 3 Desc: zayne x f!reader, mentions of zayne x mc, sylus cameo!, mentions of sylus x reader, hurt/ eventual comfort, reader feeling neglected by zayne, zayne lowkey a little horrible..

Another late night, another plate of food gone cold. You sighed as you dumped yet another meal into the bin, knowing that your boyfriend wouldn’t be eating it when he came home. After all, he had been working an insane amount of overtime recently, and would often spend the night at the hospital. Something about MC’s heart condition acting up, and from what you knew, it was pretty serious. As much as your heart twisted in inexplicable jealousy, you bit your tongue and swallowed it all down like a bitter poison. She had a bloody protocore fused to her heart, for Astra’s sake.

You were putting away the plates when suddenly, your phone lit up. Zayne. “I won’t be coming home tonight. MC isn’t doing too well.” The message read. Short and simple, as straightforward as he usually was. However, these words still managed to pierce through your heart, leaving frosty icicles in their wake. It felt like he was never home. And on the days he actually was, you would only manage to exchange a few words with him before he ate and went to bed.  And whenever he was at the hospital, high chances he would be spotted with MC. You had tried to ignore the occasional whispers from some staff commenting on how cute Zayne and MC looked together, but it would secretly hurt your feelings deep down, no matter how deep you buried these comments in the back of your mind. You knew Zayne loved you, and you knew he loved you dearly, but you couldn’t help the way your gaze drifted enviously to images of him and MC together, no matter if it was recent or if it were photos from their childhood. 

It’s selfish for me to think this way. Anyways, MC has been his friend since he was a kid, I’m being irrational. You knew that dating one of the best doctors in Linkon wouldn’t always be sunshine and rainbows. Zayne wasn’t just any doctor, he was quite literally THE doctor – entered medical school at 15, and graduated with his certification for cardiology about half a decade later. You knew that someone with his skills and proficiency would be busy almost 24/7, but you couldn’t help but feel a little neglected. You were his girlfriend after all, shouldn’t he be paying some attention to you too? You had fallen for the way he was a quiet lover, how he would notice the smallest things about you – your unconscious habits, which foods you liked, which foods you disliked, your hobbies and interests. The way he would sit with you to eat lunch when you were admitted to the hospital, even though he had just finished a gruelling and tiring surgery. The way he would drop a few sweets into your hands before you left his office. “If  you feel fatigued throughout the day, a small amount of sugar can help with spiking your blood glucose levels for a short period of time.” 

The following few days merged together into a blur of time. Your routine was the same: Wake up to an empty bed, go to work, come back, and go to sleep alone. You tried to visit the hospital a few times, even waking up earlier to prepare a lunch box for Zayne, planning to deliver it around lunch. One of the days, you were successful in giving him the meal, but you only saw him for a fleeting moment when he thanked you with a kiss on the cheek and hurried off to Astra knows where. The kiss made your heart flutter, but you didn’t have time to say or do anything else before his back was already turned to you. You tried to chase after him, but stopped in your tracks after he turned the corner, only to be greeted by MC linking arms with him and skipping down the hallway while dragging him along. Sigh. Whatever, it’s nothing. You thought.

Feeling defeated, you decided to go to one of the more secluded areas of the hospital grounds to eat your lunch. Nevertheless, your spirits were lifted after a stray cat came near where you were seated and purred affectionately. How cute!

Your phone displays ‘2.09am’ when you finally hear the front door open with a creak, and leather shoes hitting the ground. “Zayne.” You called out gently, as if he was going to slip through your fingers if your voice was too stern. That was certainly what it felt like. “Yes, my love?” He responded, hanging his jacket by the door. The words felt like they were stuck in your throat before you spoke.  “We need to talk.” 

It didn’t go as bad as you expected. You had been prepared for a full-blown argument, coupled with furious accusation and blames, maybe one or two tears, but none of that happened. You conveyed your feelings clearly – you told Zayne that you felt slightly neglected, and that you would like him to spend more time with you when he wasn’t caught up in work. He acknowledged your frustration. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was making you feel like that. I’ll try my best to clear my schedule.” He said. “Speaking about spending time with you, your birthday is coming up soon, correct? I promise I’ll have dinner with you that day, okay?” Zayne holds out his pinky to you, and you wrap your pinky around his with a gleeful smile. You could feel your heart rate picking up at the tender contact before you spoke. “Thank you, Zayne.” 

You were glad you spoke to him that day. You had managed to clear up how you felt, and you felt relieved. “I’m glad I chose such an understanding man to love.” You sighed longingly. 

The following few days, you ardently anticipated your birthday, excited to finally get some time alone with your boyfriend. You had gotten your most precious outfit washed, dried and ironed. It was in your favourite colour, and your favourite style. However, the material was expensive, so you only wore it on special occasions, afraid the fabric might get snagged on something or acquire a stain. You spent the first half of the day hanging out with your friends from your job, going around Linkon, window shopping and just having a blast overall. And you may or may not have splurged on a few accessories to go with your outfit… you cursed your friends for being enablers as you looked at the charges on your card. Of course, it wasn’t that bad, as it was only a few accessories, but you felt like an over-consumer with the way you would only be wearing them for tonight and probably never after your birthday due to your job as a hunter. “You could always donate them to me, you know!” Tara exclaimed as you rolled your eyes and shoved her teasingly. “Don’t be ridiculous, Tara.” Simone said. But those few hundred dollars missing from your bank account was all worth it in the end! (totally…) 

In your home, you were styling yourself just a few hours before your scheduled dinner, with Tara and Simone by your side as your self-proclaimed  ‘advisors’. “Ooh, that pin would go great with your shoes!” Tara chattered. She was energetically bobbing all over the place, rummaging through the accessories that you had bought. Simone, on the other hand, was quieter, and nodded or shook her head based on how much she agreed with Tara’s suggestions. By 5p.m, your friends were swooning over your look, showering you with compliments. “You look so good! I’m head over heels.” Tara dramatically said, placing a hand over her heart and sighing dreamily. Simone laughed. “Agreed. You do look stunning, birthday girl.” She said with a smile. You smiled back at the both of them, and once they hung out at your house for a little longer, they scurried off, not wanting to disturb your final preparations for the date – not before giving you the presents they had prepared for you. Tara, a life-sized plushie of your favourite animal, and Simone, a special cloth to clean your hunter weapon with. 

With a pep in your step, you headed to the restaurant that Zayne had booked for the both of you. He hadn’t reached yet, but you were 15 minutes early, so it was fine. You shot him a quick text to let him know that you were here already. It took a few minutes, but your message eventually had a ‘read’ sign at the bottom, and the three dots that indicated Zayne was typing appeared not long after. Alright. Be there soon.  Short and concise, as usual.

You occupied yourself by reading the menu and ordering some appetisers that both you and your boyfriend would like. You were delighted to see some of your favourite foods on the menu. How sweet of Zayne to pick a place with all the foods I like to eat. You thought. 

5 minutes passed, and another 5, and another 5. And before you knew it, half an hour had passed. Now, you weren’t the one that was 15 minutes early – Zayne was the one that was 15 minutes late. Trying to pay it no mind, you brushed it off as him finishing up some final documents or just being stuck in a traffic jam on the way to the restaurant. But after another 30 minutes, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Usually, he would send you a text if he was going to be late, no? You tried to text him, but was met with no response. Not even a ‘read’, or a simple 2 or 3 worded answer. Maybe his notifications were just silent? Frustrated at the pitiful stares you were getting from staff and customers alike, you huffed and decided to just scroll social media instead. That’s when you saw it. 

A post from MC, just 5 minutes ago. In the photo, she was in Zayne’s office, happily taking a selfie with him, holding up a peace sign, while a small grin could be seen on his face. The photo had been edited, with a few stickers around both their faces and their surroundings. It was captioned, “The best doctor in Linkon! Thanks for working overtime for me~” 

At first, the post itself pissed you off – you were sitting here in a restaurant alone and getting pitied by onlookers, with the food getting cold on your table,and your boyfriend had the gall to be with another woman? On your birthday, no less. Then, you looked harder, closer at the image. And then you felt downright furious. In the photo, Zayne’s phone could be spotted on his desk, lighting up with notifications from your messages. You gripped your phone harder, feeling the buttons dig into your skin. Overcome by fury and gloom, you couldn’t stop the stray tears that managed to escape your eyes. I shouldn’t be feeling like this. Trying to reason with yourself, you tried to convince yourself that MC needed that extra care, and that it was just a small matter. But was it really? You had every right to feel angry. Your own boyfriend stood you up! On your birthday! You bit your lip, trying to muffle any sobs that were threatening to spill over your lips.

“Hello there,  looks like you’re all alone. May I sit with you?” A silken smooth voice calls from above your lowered head. You look up to see a silver haired man with blood red eyes, dressed to the nines. A black leather jacket embroidered with red details, and matching black pants that made his legs look impossibly long. Wanting to save yourself from looking pitiful any longer, you quickly nodded and lowered your head again, not wanting him to see you in this state. You can feel his stare bore into your head, and he hesitantly speaks. “It’s okay, no need to hide your tears. What happened here? It’s impossible that a beauty like you was stood up.” 

The stranger’s comment only fueled the tears in your eyes as you looked up at him. “How did you manage to guess exactly what happened? You’re observant.” You said with a humourless laugh. His gaze softened. “It wasn’t hard to guess. I’ve seen that look many times before.” You were reluctant to speak any more, and instead put your phone, which was still displaying MC’s post, down on the table with a bit more force than necessary. The stranger curiously glances at it, but his eyes quickly dart away from the phone. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. By the way, I never got your name.” He says. 

“___” You reply curtly, now looking him straight in the eyes, trying to rub the tears from yours. “A beautiful name for a beautiful person.” The stranger replies without missing a  beat. That got a genuine chuckle out of you, and you found yourself asking for his name as well. Sylus, he told you. What a nice name. Suits him. You thought to yourself. That brought you to the question of – what made him sit with you anyway? From what you could tell, there were still a few vacant tables in the establishment. Maybe you just looked so pitiful he felt compelled to sit with you. “You know, you have a really nice laugh. You shouldn’t let someone’s careless actions dampen your mood.” Sylus comments suddenly. You smile genuinely at him, and thanked him for the compliment. 

The both of you talk for a little while, and you felt like conversation just flowed so easily with him, even though he was a stranger. You also eat the food that you had ordered beforehand, before you finally called it a day and called for the bill. But when it arrived, he snatched it from your hands in the politest way you could snatch something, and placed his card face down onto it. Surprised, you tried to replace it with your own card,  but you were stopped by him. “Don’t worry, it’s on me this time. I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.” He says, grinning. “This time? So there’s going to be more of these meetings?” You tease. He chuckles before answering immediately, “Maybe. Who knows?” 

It felt like the weight of the world was lifted off your shoulders after that meeting with Sylus. After exchanging contact information, he offered to drop you off at your house, but you politely declined, insisting that you could get home by yourself. He nodded, and drove off in that motorcycle of his. How cool. Your spirit was no longer dampened by being stood up as you walked into your shared home with Zayne, flopping down onto the couch. Although it was far from the ideal birthday, you were glad you got to spend valuable time with your dearest friends, and even potentially have made a new one. You took a quick shower before tucking yourself under the covers, watching whatever you wanted before bed. After a few minutes, the fatigue from spending most of the day outside caught up to you, and your eyes quickly closed shut as soon as you plugged in your phone and rolled on your side. 

However, your beauty sleep was short-lived. You were abruptly awoken by the opening of the front door and hurried footsteps inside the house. Irritated, you checked your phone. 11:39pm. Okay, it wasn’t an ungodly hour, but you were still irked at being so suddenly awoken. When your bedroom door opens, you are greeted by your boyfriend (did you even want to call him that anymore?) standing in the doorway, breathing unevenly and his tie half-loosened. “Well, are you going to come in?” You asked sarcastically. 

When his ragged breathing evened out, he started his apology speech. “I’m so sorry about forgetting our appointment, I truly am. I- MC just needed me at that moment, I couldn’t just-” Zayne stuttered out, his usually composed demeanor slowly crumbling to dirt. You let him ramble about MC’s needs being urgent and how your date just slipped his mind before cutting him off. “Zayne, I can see that you’re apologetic. But you clearly can’t make enough time for me, which is apparent from today, and the numerous other times you’ve cancelled on me at the last minute or just stood me up completely.” You begin. As if he could sense what was coming next, Zayne hurriedly scrambled for something to say. 

“Zayne, I think we should break up.” You continued, not letting him get a single word in. 

He seemed to understand that you wanted to speak, and he slowly backed off. “This isn’t the first time I’ve felt neglected by you, Zayne. I’ve tried to communicate this to you multiple times, and it felt like this time, something would finally change. I thought that we would finally be able to spend a nice dinner together without you having to leave halfway or being diabolically late.” Pausing to try to articulate your words, you went on, “I understand that MC’s condition is fragile, and that you are her personal doctor. But…” This felt incredibly selfish to say, but if you didn’t tell Zayne, it would linger on your mind forever. “...I can’t help but feel a little envious of the way the both of you interact. Your interactions with her seem so much more natural, and you get to spend more time with her on a regular basis. It’s…bad for my heart, to put it simply.” You laughed, feeling the slightest bit stupid. It seemed so trivial, now that you spoke about it. 

“You know I love you…” Zayne said, his voice trailing off. “I know you do, Zayne. But these words don’t mean a whole lot when your actions keep contradicting them. I know you love me, but…I don’t think it's the best course of action for us to remain together. Look at you, all dishevelled, Zayne. I hate to see you like this.” You tell him softly, eyes scanning over his distraught expression. His face seems to fall as he just accepts the reality of it all. He nods slowly, like he was in disbelief. “I… I respect your decision, ___. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight, then. Good night.” 

“Good night, Zayne.”

(Part 2 is out!)

[foreid]

⊹₊ ⋆ ㅤ— “FEEL YOU FROM THE INSIDE . .ᐟᅟ ”

part 1 | part 2

wrd count: 1304

warnings: smut, fem!reader x josh, dry-humping, drinking, josh is a pervert, semi-plot, make out, drunk reader, smutty indications, aggressive teasing

a/n : my bi-monthly drop!!!! wrote this for my dear friend adri, and me :3 but also because i just finished until dawn and this sexy man is EVERYWHERE… will be writing more of him soon. stay tuned ! ;)

you knew your limits when it came to alcohol, what you could handle and what you couldn’t.

but joshua washington had to be the world's best sweet talker. because you’d convinced everyone at the lodge you’d be the most sober.

now you were the only one slurring out a random song with an empty bottle of expensive vodka wrapped around your perfectly jeweled up and manicured hand.

“jooooosssshhhhh…” you slurred to him, clinging onto his bicep that felt oddly larger than usual. all he could do was give that signature sexy laugh and shake his head at you.

he was gentle with you, still obviously teasing but not to an extent.

the boy knew you weren’t 100% yourself when you got this drunk.

“mhm, that’s my name.” he said to you, the two of you weren’t necessarily separated from the group, but you weren’t close enough to be in their conversations.

that was always the case when the two of you were together.

but to him, close was never close enough.

you were rubbing your face all on his flannel, cheek chubbying up and only looking up at him through your eyelids.

eyes big and full of drunken content.

to him, you were just so pretty vulnerable.

the way he was looking down at you was almost straight out of a cheap porno.

his wide eyes, now low and full of an extreme emotion that your weak brain couldn’t understand.

but you had an idea that it was what you were wearing, not to toot your own horn.

soft layers: a tight white tank top stacked with a hot pink zip-up that had fur on the hood and graphics on the back, your tight denim shorts and fleece tights that were meant to keep you warm, but anyone with a right mind knew they were just for show.

technically… you had packed more outfits like this for the trip, but that’s because you weren’t expecting the cabin to be so bitterly cold.

so it wasn’t really even your fault.

in reality, you were dressing this way on purpose.

okay maybe you were dressed like this because you loved the attention.

the peering looks he gave you anytime you walked by, the snarky comments that left his perfect mouth.

who were you to blame? look at that man.

“feelin’ clingy tonight, huh?” he taunted, laughing in your face at the way you were holding onto him and gawking.

“me—? clingy? y’r funny, washington…” all you could do was stutter and stumble on your words.

he made you nervous and you were so intoxicated you could barely think before speaking.

holding him like this made you imagine all the possibilities. all the things you could be doing to each other right now.

and it almost felt like he was thinking the same, like you were always riding on the same wavelength.

you know something else you could ride on.

it was stupid to imagine but there’s always been a tension between you two, so thick and palpable that it left you knees-weak every time he flirted with you.

“let’s just cut the bullshit. c’mon.” before you could even process that he was talking to you, a rough set of calluses were wrapped around your forearm, tugging you somewhere in the lodge that you couldn’t quite comprehend.

the second you heard a door close behind you two, you realized you were in the master bedroom,

only knowing this due to the sudden change of temperature in the room compared to the living room.

“wha- aren’t they gonna n— notice that we’re gone?” you were confused, but you trusted him.

despite the evident look of hunger and lust in his eyes. you trusted yourself in his hands.

“i don’t care. i just needed to get you alone.” his mouth made its way to your ear, slowly, as his warm breath came to touch with your skin,

your body froze up at the sudden attention, making you feel warm. “y/n. almost years i’ve been fantasizing about you, ever since we met,” he paused and cautiously reached for your hips.

his hands were warm and you felt safe, once you processed his words you became putty in them.

“huh?”

was all you could mutter out, keeping yourself in place by grabbing onto his triceps, looking up at him through your full and wispy eyelashes.

“i’m sayin’ i wanna fuck you, pornstar. your skin is so soft and warm. i wanna know,” he paused to straighten himself up and look at you.

“i wanna know what it feels like inside that pussy of yours.”

drunk, he was drunk this had to be the drinks talking. there was no way this was real.

even if he was intoxicated, that didn’t stop his words from going straight in between your legs. arousal pooling onto your lacy panties.

could’ve sworn your eyes started to roll back at the dirty talk, he was so good at it too.

“y’don’t mean that—“ he quickly cut you off, pulling you in nice and personal and grabbing at the plush skin that was covered by tight denim. “i do. with every fiber in me, i swear i do.”

the physical attention was overwhelming, and the verbal one was even more intense. you didn’t know what else to do but to give in to something you’ve been praying for for so long.

you couldn’t even suck in a breath before he was crashing his lips onto yours.

it was a kiss that made you dizzy, you melted into it though, wrapping yourself onto him.

he led you backwards, kissing you still while he was walking, pressing your back against whatever wall was close; stabilizing you with his knee between your legs.

you were holding onto the hair on the back of his head for dear life, loving the hot and messy kiss so much that it turned you on.

all the sexual frustration of not getting any in almost a year turned you into some horn dog.

your head was spinning, you could barely make out a thought. josh’s hand began to unzip your jacket, sliding it off your body while his lips started roaming down your neck.

“i ca— can’t take it,” a whine slipped out of your lips, head turned to face away from him to hide away your embarrassment.

this didn’t stop him though, you felt him smile against your skin and only itch on more.

rutting your hips for you against his clothed leg while he started sucking ravishingly against your neck, josh himself could barely keep himself from grinning at how much he’s won.

josh was the type for messy and quick sex. but when he thinks of having it with you, he wants it hard and slow.

painfully slow. so he can make you take in everything, make you feel everything all at once.

his fingers started sliding off the straps of your tight shirt, lips starting to make contact with the plush skin of your breasts.

“so fuckin’ sexy. just like i imagined. you g’nna let me give it to you? hm?” he was teasing, words muffled by the way he had his lips wrapped around your nipple.

“god i can’t wait to fill you up. gonna tell chris how good this pussy is.” josh snickered, grinning at the mess he was making of you.

and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

he brought himself up to bite on your ear, hands teasing your breasts as your hips (which had minds of their own) kept grinding on his knee, the friction making your brain go into mush.

your mind was completely blown, blank and empty.

fingers were digging and wrinkling up his flannel as your mouth was agape.

you were all hot and bothered, needing and yearning for more.

if you felt this good only from foreplay, imagine how good being so full of his dick was gonna be.

you couldn’t wait.

you were letting out noises you didn’t even know you could make,

and he was barely getting started.

[bitterreid]

🍏 I mean camaraderie! 🍏

REQUEST summary: When Spencer suddenly gets scared he's too vanilla in bed and he (quite clumsily) tries his hand at being more dominant, you quickly assure him that you love his sweet and gentle ways. Cue cutesy sex <3

wordcount: 4k (I got carried away)

content warnings: smut! MDNI! dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, talking about feelings/sex, fem!reader gets called names containing 'girl', it's a build-up but the smut is worth it guys, promise, (((Also a little extra warning: doing the things or reading the books reader says she doesn't like is completely fine!! :) this is just lovey-dovey smut hihi)))

A/N: This is the first request I've ever gotten and I am STOKED. I had a lot of fun writing this because at times I genuinely felt like Spencer here, completely out of my depth hahahaha, i literally had to google "bad spicy booktok quotes" for this lolll :') great request, I hope you enjoy, my dear anon!! :) (everyone else, feel free to request!!)

🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏🍏

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Spencer had just been… curious, okay? He had just seen one too many girls on the subway, on the train, in the park, in a café, everywhere, it seemed, reading that book. That stupid book. "Dark Fantasy" the back had read. Spencer hadn't known what to imagine. The Middle Ages? Anyway, the cover had stuck in his brain. Stupid eidetic memory. 

So, the next time he found himself in a bookstore, it wasn't his fault he gravitated towards the familiar dark purple cover art. He had picked it up idly, innocently, just flipped through it absentmindedly. He swore. It's not his fault he reads faster than the average reader. It's not his fault he read the whole thing in ten minutes standing in that stupid Y/A section of that stupid store. 

He hadn't know what to think of it. The thing these men (men? fairies? fae? whatever.) did to these women… did people actually like that? Did you like that? 

Spencer had spent his entire life feeling as if there was an unwritten code the whole world just naturally knew by heart, except for him, so it suddenly seemed scarily plausible that this was the same thing all over again. That everyone knew these kinds of things were the things normal people did, said, thought, and he just didn't know it. So he turned to the only source that had never let him down: academia. And sure enough, 8.235 hits of articles, research, interviews, and other evidence detailing how women liked to be handled, talked to, treated like they did in those books. 

The next few days, Spencer just couldn't shake the feeling. The feeling that he had been doing it all wrong, that he had been making a fool of himself. And that wouldn't have bothered him so much in the past, the few girls here and there that he built up his measly amount of experience with, but you, oh, there was nothing in the world that he wanted to do right more than making you feel good. The thought that you had been feeling unsatisfied after your lovemaking made him nauseous on the spot, especially because he enjoyed it so thoroughly. And you were so nice to him, so understanding of his inexperience and taking it slow, just for him. He knew you would never want to hurt him, so he assumed what was the most logical conclusion: you had been disappointed with him, but too shy to say what you wanted. Yup. That was it. (To Spencer's overthinking brain, at least.)

And so, the next time you were over at his apartment, he vowed to make it right. Only there you were, sitting on his couch, smiling at him sweetly as he brought over your matching cups of tea. He didn't know whether he could ever be a man like those ones he read about. He was made for crossword puzzles and mismatched socks, old black and white movies and cozy evenings under a blanket, not brute force or coarse language. But he was going to try tonight. It killed him to think that he was selling you short of something you deserved just because he was too inexperienced to know about it.

And he knew, vaguely, that he should just ask you what you would like, but the insecurity of the last oh-so-many years of his life gnawed at him, propelling him into rash decisions. He should just ask you what you wanted, but those guys never did, and he could be smooth. Right? He could "smirk smugly," whatever that might mean. He could just go with the flow, be chill, relax. Right?? He would just, do the things, say the words, and you would like it. You would be pleasantly surprised. Right??? He was going insane.

And of course, you noticed. "Everything okay, Spence?" 

"Y- yeah!" (Could he sound any less convincing?) "Yeah, just, um, tired?" He smiled apologetically.

"Aw," your smile in comparison was broad and lovely, the picture of fondness, "you should get a good night's sleep tonight then."

Yeah, great. Very sexy, Spencer. He didn't know how he would ever stop being so damn soft and just man up. For you. 

"You should tell me if I should get out of your hair, okay?" You set your teacup down on the coffee table, "you probably have to get up early tomorrow, so…"

"No!" he blurted out before he even caught himself. Your eyebrows shot up in response, an amused albeit confused quirk playing on your lips. "I, um, I thought we could…" god, what was wrong with him? He should just, ummm, kiss you? He didn't even know. 

He breathed out, hands flexing against the soft fabric of his couch, looking you in the eyes. Your expression was warm and kind, which only made him more nervous. 

You let your head fall to the side, looking at him inquisitively. Spencer's heart soared at the little genture, his eyes no doubt betraying his nerves, or his impending insanity. To his utter surprise, you shuffled closer to him on the couch, lacing your fingers through his, which were (to his own surprise) still flexing and relaxing in a steady rhythm. You didn't say anything, just looked at him with your round, shiny eyes, but it was enough to turn Spencer into a puddle.

He decided to test the water, still never entirely sure of whether he understood your context clues, even after having been intimate with you multiple times by now. Still, he ventured into a slow kiss, his lips brushing yours while you stroked the top of his hand with your thumb. You kissed him back immediately, to his relief.

Spencer was fighting off the butterflies, but no amount of willpower could withstand the plush softness of your lips. His instinct was to go pliable under your touch, let you kiss him stupid here on his couch, but he had an agenda tonight. So he willed his hands to take a careful hold of your face, gaining control of the kiss. You betrayed no surprise, no particular reaction, you just went along with him. So Spencer upped his antics. His kisses became deeper, his brows furrowing in concentration.

Your response was just as lovely as always. You moothed his hair out of his face and went along with the deep lull of his kisses, moving in tandem with his body. Spencer had to fight not to just give in to the sweetness of your kisses, of your careful touches to his neck and chest. Still he tried to be more dominant, in his own clumsy ways. He wanted to push you into a horizontal position and crawl over you, but what happened was that he gave a light nudge to your shoulder and you fell backwards voluntarily, smiling up at him and softly weaving your fingers through his hair. 

You made it very difficult to give you what you wanted, Spencer thought vaguely. So he continued on with his quest. He traded your lips in for your neck, trailing kisses from your collarbone up to your neck. You made a small, sweet noise when he placed his lips over your pulse point, and Spencer scrambled for words to reply to you. "You like that, huh?" was what came out. The words tasted foreign on his tongue. 

You giggled in response, twirling the hair at the nape of Spencer's neck around your fingers. Not what he expected. He continued his kisses, reaching the opening of your blouse. He looked up at you as a form of asking for permission to unbutton it further, and you nodded with a shy smile. A surge of affection bloomed in his chest at the way you blushed when he started undoing the buttons, still bashful each time, he smiled to himself. He pushed the wave under, though, hiding his own reddening cheeks behind his hair while he worked to get the fabric off of you. 

Once your blouse was discarded somewhere on the floor of his apartment, he took in the sight before him. Your skin looked smooth and soft in the dim evening light that flickered through the curtains, your glittering eyes tracking Spencer's every move. Sickeningly sweet compliments threatened to spill over his lips, but he was unsure they would fit his performance tonight. So he gathered his courage and instead commanded you to "open your legs for me." You obeyed swiftly, albeit with that confused glint back in your eyes. Spencer positioned himself between your legs, leaning his hands next to your head. Everything in him wanted to oppose his brain when it made him say "good girl," but he pushed through. The words leaving his lips and settling into the air felt odd. He immediately went in for a kiss, as part of the plan, or to hide from you, he wasn't sure, cutting off your confused stare.

Your hands didn't quite know what to do, he registered, but eventually they found their place on his neck. Your kisses didn't betray any more enthusiasm than usual, he noted disappointedly. He must have been doing it wrong. What did those guys in the books do? Snarl? He could not, in good faith, bring himself to do that. He mentally flipped through the pages, unsure of where to go next. 

He let his hand drop down to the button on your jeans, opening it swiftly (at least one thing that went right) and zipped the zipper down. You lifted your hips up while not breaking the kisses, so that Spencer could shimmy you out of them and throw them with your blouse. The kisses had grown passionate and deep, your pupils blown wide when Spencer eventually pulled back. You looked angelic. Your hair splayed out on the couch cushions, your lips kissed red and puffy, and your lidded eyes intently focussed on him. All he wanted to do was kiss you for ages, until the sun set and you would fall asleep in his arms, but alas, he swallowed his lovesick daydreams down. Instead he took a hold of your hips, squeezing the soft flesh before pulling you forward by them so that you came to lie flat on your back. You let out a startled gasp, blinking your eyes cartoonishly up at him. Spencer took this as a good sign, giving your plush thigh another experimental squeeze, but your hand resting on his wrist halted his movements. 

"Okay Spence, what's going on?" your voice was not angry, rather, slightly bewildered, emphasised by the way your one brow was raised higher than the other. Spencer immediately felt the heat rush to his face, feeling like he just got caught red-handed. His big baby deer eyes wide like he was frozen in front of nearing headlights.

"Nothing…" was his - very convincing - response.

"Spence," you were smiling now, the corners of your mouth quirking up as you shuffled yourself to sit upright opposite Spencer. 

"You didn't… like it?" Spencer cringed at the insecure tone in his voice but didn't know where to hide it. 

You blinked at him for a second. "I didn't, um, expect it?" you offered, your smile seeping into your tone.

"But you… want… that? Stuff like that, right?" he fidgeted with his hands in his lap, looking unsure of his very own claims now that he said it out loud. "R- rougher?"

You let out a confused little laugh, "what would make you think that, Spence?" Your tone was affectionate, the crinkles next to your eyes betraying your fondness for your clueless boyfriend. 

His cheeks must have been quite literally on fire by this point, as he scrambled for answers he suddenly couldn't seem to find.

You reached out, caressing his cheek with your hand, "It's okay, we can talk about this," you tried to reassure him.

Spencer was wiggling in his seat, annoyed with himself on all fronts, and unable to stop himself from blurting everything out all at once: "I just, okay, um I stumbled upon this book and," he raked his fingers through his hair, realising how stupid his explanation was about to sound, "and all girls around were suddenly reading it, so i thought it must be, good, then, so I found it in the book store and read it and it was, um, spicy? Is that what they call it?" If the floor had decided to swallow him whole at that point, Spencer would have been thankful. "So I thought, since everyone seemed to like that sort of thing I would research it, and I found all these papers on dirty talk and rough sex and dominance, so I thought, I assumed…" he trailed off when seeing the look of equal parts confusion and amusement on your face.

You couldn't hold back your laughter anymore, breaking into a fit of giggles at the huge dismay of Spencer's burning cheeks. He felt his eyes grow impossibly wider, afraid he had messed up forever.

"You?? Reading smut?? Spencer, oh my god, that is both adorable and so so so stupid, babe," you said through all the giggles. Spencer joined in with a hesitant giggle of his own, starting to see his ridiculous thought process in perspective. "Why didn't you just ask me about it?" 

To his relief, you didn't sound accusatory, just soft and sincere, supported by your bright smile. "Yeah, huh," he chuckled, "hindsight sure is 20/20, huh?" he felt his nervous energy slowly flow out of him at your gentle stare. "I know I should have, I just wanted to 'fix' everything on my own, without," he looked away, "without disappointing you further…"

"Disappointing me?" you exclaimed, genuine worry in your expression, "Spencer, you haven't disappointed me once. I'm perfectly satisfied, baby, did I not show that enough? I never, ever, wanted to make you feel like you were lacking, in any regard."

"No! No," he was quick to defend, "you did nothing wrong, at all. I think I'm just, I don't know, you're more experienced than me and I thought I was just missing the mark? I thought maybe you just didn't dare to ask for what you really wanted." He smoothed his palm over his face, spilling all of his inner thoughts taking a toll on him.

"Spencer," his name on your lips sounded sweet, like it had gotten drenched in syrup, it was Spencer's favourite sound. "Please believe me when I say that you give me everything I want and more." your hand came up to cup his cheek and Spencer immediately leaned into your touch, embarrassingly aware of his own neediness. "I wish you would have just asked me about it, because then I could have told you that I love your sweet and gentle ways. I love the way you make me feel cherished." 

You were looking up at him with big, honest eyes, and Spencer started to wonder how or why his brain would ever lead him away from this soft, quiet intimacy between the two of you. "I'm sorry," he offered, a weak rebuttal, as he kissed the inside of your wrist.

"Don't apologise, silly," you leaned in, brushing your lips against his. He kissed back immediately, soft, slow, as tenderly as his need for you would allow him.

You crawled over him, still only in your underwear, and positioned yourself in his lap. Spencer's hands immediately fell to your waist, addicted to the feeling of your soft skin. Your kisses grew deeper, impossibly more intimate, as you pushed your chest into his, craving closeness. 

When Spencer pulled away, eyelids heavy with want, he groaned softly at the sight of your red, puffy lips, shiny with his spit. "You mean it? everything? " He had to ask, he had to. 

"I mean it. Everything." Your response was easy and immediate. Spencer detected no doubt in your voice, and he would know. So he kissed you again, with an almost shaking feeling, pouring himself into you. The way you gasped into his mouth sent shivers down his spine. 

When you pulled back, both breathing heavily, your lips immediately found his neck, kissing a stripe up to his ear, where you started whispering sweet nothings that sent heat straight through his body. "I like your hands, so strong and big, but so gentle," "and I love the sounds you make," "and how you touch me like i'm delicate, makes me feel so special, Spence," each one of your compliments was punctuated with more kisses to his neck. 

Spencer didn't know what to do with himself, lost in your voice and your praise. He wondered what he must have done in a previous life to deserve the most gorgeous girl ever, in his lap, almost naked, telling him how good he made her feel. His hands squeezed your hips, softly this time, and the small moan that left your lips afterwards made him dizzy.

"And I love the way you talk to me," your compliments just kept coming, "all sweet and loving, makes me feel really pretty."

"You are," he answered immediately, his voice hoarse to his own ears, "you are very pretty, gorgeous even, I- just look at you," his hands smoothed up and down your back. "Look at you…" he was almost whispering now, completely lost in you. 

You giggled into his neck, "so are you, my pretty boy."

Spencer didn't know whether he would survive. His head fell back, giving you even more access to his neck, while he felt your hips softly grind on his erection through his dress pants. He thought faintly that he might have died and gone to heaven. 

His fingers trailed up your back to the clasp of your bra, though he waited for your nod against his skin to undo it. He threw it with the rest of your clothes, into oblivion, and snaked a hand between your bodies to palm your breasts. The moan he got after grazing your nipple had him salivating, wanting to hear you fall apart entirely. 

"Baby," his voice sounded breathy, "can I take care of you, please?" 

"Of course," you withdrew from his neck, cheeks hot and eyes dark.

"Need to taste you," he mused while carefully laying you down on his couch, making sure you were comfortable. Kissing down your body until he reached the hem of your panties.

"Fuck," he groaned when he saw the small wet patch that had formed.

You smiled bashfully, giving permission for Spencer to pull the fabric down your legs and throw it god knows where. 

Spencer was, once again, completely enamoured by you. He let his fingers slide through your folds, collecting the slick and bringing it up to your clit to circle it slowly. He watched your face intently, pride blooming in his chest with every moan and eyeroll he got out of you. He positioned himself between your thighs, fully intent on worshipping you for as long as he could hold out.

He started by kissing your plush thighs, the soft skin feeling heavenly under his lips. As he started to get closer and closer to where you needed him most, you grew more desperate, whining his name and making Spencer almost delirious with your voice. "I know, baby, I know," he shushed you, finally planting a kiss in your needy clit.

You involuntarily bucked your hips up, finally getting some release, and Spencer watched in awe as your eyes screwed shut when he licked a broad stripe over your pussy. "Feels so good, Spence," you whined, just as Spencer thought it would be impossible to turn him on even more.

He continued licking and sucking just as you liked, your hands eventually finding a home in his curly hair, softly running your fingers through it. Spencer thought he could spend eternity there, between your thighs.

He carefully introduced a finger, revelling in the reaction he got, and started pumping in and out of your slick opening. It didn't take long before you could take two, as Spencer's gaze remained transfixed on the way you were swallowing his digits. "You're doing so well, baby."

"I'm- I'm getting close," you gasped, and Spencer could feel it. He could feel you squeezing his fingers. The thought alone made him crazy, making him go faster, chasing your sweet release.

You fell apart on his fingers with a last, high-pitched moan, arching your back beautifully for him. He worked you through your hugh, being careful not to overstimulate you. 

"Was that good?" the words had left his mouth before he could register them, betraying his insistent insecurity. 

You were looking satisfied and dazed from your spot between his throw pillows, smiling up at him through your lashes. "Good? Spence, that is the understatement of the year. I think I saw stars."

Your bright giggle calmed his nerves as he joined in, leaning down to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

"But now," you started as you pushed yourself upright, "it's time to take care of you, pretty boy." 

Spencer revelled in your attention, willingly going along with your motions to undress him. He watched as you struggled with the buttons on his shirt, helping you with a broad smile, and once again mentally thanked whatever deity and deemed him worthy of you when you skillfully undid his belt and trousers. Freeing his aching dick out of his underwear, you couldn't help but stroke him a few times. Spencer hissed at the contact, already sensitive.

"Such a pretty boy," you mused. Spencer's dick twitched at your words, but he didn't have it in him anymore to feel embarrassed. Instead he eagerly helped you into his lap, your pussy hovering over his needy dick.

He positioned himself at your opening, dragging his tip though your folds a few times to gather your wetness, enjoying the little hitch in your breath when he brushed against your sensitive clit. You started to sink down on him, exhaling harshly once you felt the stretch of his tip at your opening, "take it easy, baby, no rush," Spencer reassured you, marvelling at how good you looked on top of him. You sank down on him slowly, taking all of him and letting out a content sound that matched Spencer's low moan. 

You started riding him slowly, guided by his large hands on your hips, and Spencer could hardly hold it together. He drew you in for a passionate kiss, but he soo had to halt those efforts because he could do little else but moan and sigh against your lips. You were in equal levels of disarray, loving the way he felt buried deep inside you just as much as he loved it.

"Fuck, baby, oh, god I'm- I'm so close already," Spencer managed between breathy gasps.

"That's alright, Spence, ah- me too."

Spencer saw this as his perfect chance, taking a stronger hold of your hips and driving his dick into you at the exact angle that made you a whining hot mess on top of him. Thank god for his eidetic memory, and the way you felt clenching around him. He made sure your orgasm came first, feeling your pussy squeeze his dick deliciously as your nails dug into his skin with a raw, drawn-out moan. Spencer followed seconds behind you, completely overwhelmed by how good you felt pulsing around him, spilling his load into you while holding your body impossibly close to his, babbling your name and sweet nothings as he reached his high.

You rode out your pleasure together, eventually stilling in each other's arms and catching your breaths. 

"Spencer, oh my god…" that was all you could muster to say to your boyfriend in your current state, but Spencer understood. He gleamed with pride, planting a kiss on your shoulder and slowly taking your face in his hands to kiss the tip of your nose.

"Let me get you cleaned up, pretty girl," he said after a while of basking in your collective post orgasm glow. 

You were pouting as you languidly willed yourself to get off of him, but with another kiss and a promise of cuddling later, you agreed for Spencer to fetch you a towel. As he walked into his bathroom, he couldn't help but notice all the small marks you had left on his neck and chest, smiling to himself in the dim evening light, completely satisfied. 

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I am but a humble fanfic writer and i beg for your feedback guys :))))))) xxxxxxxx