#I CAN’T BELIEVE I DIDN’T THINK OF THIS BEFORE

[tonycries]

Never Ever Seen This Before!

Synopsis. There’s a first time for everything - including trying out dirty little kínks with them.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cóckwarming, mating press, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, marking, spitting, bóndage, spanking (Nanami’s), dynamics, degradation, cúmplay, squírting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. *sigh* can’t believe I deleted this before. If you know, then YOU KNOW.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Stay still, goddammit!

Was being stuffed full of your boyfriend’s thick cock at all times really too much to ask? You think not. 

Toji, however, really didn’t see the point.

“But, doll.” he groans, dragging his tip lazily in-between your swollen folds. And it was so sloppy - slick trailing down his length, smearing across the sheets. “Jus’ wanna fuck your pretty lil’ cunt.”

It’s not that Toji doesn’t like the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock. No, he loves it - is addicted even. And he loves it especially when you attack him in the morning like this - his pretty girl, all splayed out on her side, barely even blinking the sleep out of her eyes before you ache for his dick. 

But, really, what’s the use of staying still - he’d rather fuck you till you’re breathless and creaming around his cock.

“Toji, you promised we’d try. Jus’ want to be stuffed full of your cock.” you pout, batting your lashes behind at him. “Don’ make me go on a sex ban.”

Oh, you little minx. He knew all your dirty tricks - yet, fell for them each time anyway. “Fine. Then fucking-” he lifts your legs a little higher, hips pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Take it.”

You barely even hear the rest of his sentence because Toji’s immediately bullying his throbbing dick into your pussy. Pushing against the resistance as you struggle to take his thick cock, not stopping till he’s buried all the way in your wet cunt.

Smirking at the way you mewl and grind your hips back into his, he wraps two muscled arms around your waist, holding you still on his cock. Murmuring in your ear, low and gravelly, “Not s’pposed to move, doll. Remember?

God, he knows you feel the way he twitches inside your dripping cunt at the way you whisper out a shaky little, “Y-yeah. No moving.”

And stubbornly you grit your teeth, being able to do nothing more than clamp down so deliciously on Toji’s pulsing cock as you stay still, relishing in the burn of him stretching you impossibly.

And maybe it’s been minutes - or even hours, because God did it feel that way to Toji as he watched you being broken by the mere feeling of being split apart on his cock. Patience slowly waning, he snakes down a hand to your poor, forgotten clit. Index tracing lightly over the sensitive bud. 

“T-Toji what-” you immediately jolt, finally getting an ounce of the friction your cunt has been aching for this whole time. Mindlessly grinding into his erection - only to be stopped by a large hand on your hip. 

“No moving, doll. Remember?”

“But-”

“Didn’t say anything about playing with your pretty lil’ clit now, did you?” he hums, knowing you were playing right into his hands. “Now. Don’t move.”

Ah, you can do nothing but lay there and take it as Toji presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Fingers starting to press, frantic, hard little circles on your swollen clit. Over and over- Like he was fucking you with his fingers the way he couldn’t with his dick. 

Ugh, damn him. Damn him and his fingers that knew you so well.

It was maddening.

“Toji- please.” you sob out, powerless against the bruising grip keeping you in place. You wanted to move. You wanted him so bad. 

“‘Please’ what?” he grunts. Clearly torn between focusing on drawing steady, agonizing patterns on your clit and fighting that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy over and over. Not stopping till you were cockdrunk and crying to cum.

“Please just fuck me- ah!”

Oh, you didn’t have to tell Toji twice. Because in one, fluid move, Toji’s pulling back, fucking you with harsh, jerky little movements of his hips. Twitching balls smacking you with each thrust. Not even caring to wait and let you adjust because fuck cockwarming, he’s wanted this so long and your needy lil’ pussy is milking him so good- “Shhh, it’s okay, doll. We have lotsa time to practice.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - So mean!

Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Always holding the door open, guiding you through crowds, gifting you bouquets even when there wasn’t a special occasion. 

The only problem was that Nanami was a gentleman even when you didn’t want him to be. Even when what you really wanted was for him to push you down and tease you till you were crying and begging for his cock. 

Like right now - kissing softly down your neck, large hands trailing across your skin as he lays you gently on your bed. Long fingers dipping into your soaked panties, drawing delicate patterns on your quivering thighs. But you’re not in the mood for delicate.

“K-Kento!” you whine, hips bucking into his featherlight touches. “Can we ah- do that thing we talked about?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.” he murmurs against your skin. 

You let out a pouty whine, one that you knew would make him break. “But I want you to, Kento. Wan’ you to break me. Please.”

He lets out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. A loaded second of silence passes. One. Two. And just as you’re about to admit defeat, surprisingly, it’s Nanami that breaks the silence. “Fine then. Face down, ass up if you want to act like such a lil’ slut.”

You scramble to do what he says, mind reeling from the fact that oh this was Nanami - the same Nanami who’d never raised his voice or ever called you anything other than terms of endearment.

“Hm, good.” he grits out.

And that’s all you hear before a deafening rip! rings through the heady room. Looking back in shock, you realize with a jolt that Nanami had your tattered panties in his hands, your dripping cunt on full display for him. 

As he positions himself behind you, resting his swollen cock the curve of your ass. Mindlessly, you push back against the feeling of Nanami’s achingly hard cock, hot and heavy on your skin, precum smearing everywhere. “Ken-”

Smack!

“Not Kento, darling.” he murmurs, palms smoothing over your ass. Lips kissing down your spine, in a way that would be so sweet if it wasn’t for the way he had you under his mercy. 

You let out a strangled moan at the sharp sting, his large handprint searing into your skin.  “S-sir?” you whisper, almost-experimentally. And oh was it the right answer - because he groans appreciatively, dick jumping so animalistically at the term leaving your swollen lips. 

“Oh? So my slutty girl does know how to be good, huh?” he murmurs, voice so uncharacteristically dangerous. Hands spreading your swollen folds to take in the sight of your wet pussy. “Shit. Since m’feeling so nice, count to five n’ I’ll fill that tight lil’ cunt with my cock.”

You barely have the time to wonder what he means before you feel a sharp slap against your ass. Forcing you to yelp out a strained little, “O-one, sir.”

Nanami hungry eyes greedily take in the fat tears clinging to your lashes, hips bucking into his for more. Your mouth dropping into such a delicious little oh! as you’re torn between pain and pleasure. 

You were so sweet falling apart underneath him that he can’t help but do it again. Smack! And again. Smack! 

“Two. Hah! N’ t-three.”

Good, now it was time to put his good girl to the test. 

With a low hiss of appreciation, he drags his throbbing cock across your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices on his tip. At the same time, Nanami’s hand connects with your ass again. Hard. Smack! 

“Ah! Oh-”

“Count.”

“Four! Ngh- four, sir.”

Nanami’s amusement spikes at the way you were so desperately rutting into his cock. And, well, what his pretty slut wants - she gets, right?

Several things happen at once,  he swiftly raises his hand for a final, hard smack. Hips reeling back ever-so-slightly to ram his cock into your snug cunt at the same time. Smack! 

“Ah! Kento- Kento hgnh- shit feel s’good inside me.” you mewl, drunk off both the sharp sting on your ass and Nanami bullying his thick cock into your tight pussy, filling you up so good. 

But not for long - because as soon as he was stuffing you full of his cock, Nanami’s pulling out just as fast. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you whirl behind to pout at him. Only for whatever whine to get stuck in your throat at two fingers shoving something flimsy and wet in your mouth. Forcing you to taste yourself.

Gagging around your soaked panties, a jolt runs down your spine at the positively feral glint in his eyes. Blinking away the tears in your eyes to take in the cruel little smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to whisper, “My lil’ slut can’t even seem to remember what to call me, huh? I think she should be punished.”

Oh.

What have you done?

♡ GETO SUGURU - Drown me in it!

Geto Suguru has done it all - folded you in half, stuffed you full from all ends, had you begging and crying for more underneath him. He can confidently say that he hasn’t shied away from ticking off everything on the list.

That is until one random night in the shower, when he gets an epiphany - oh shit, Geto hasn’t made you squirt yet. Yes, it was the sudden image of you covering him in all your sweet juices. But more importantly - how dare he let his pretty girl go so long without cumming so hard you see the pearly gates of heaven? 

So - like any good boyfriend - Geto has you splayed out on his navy sheets, your legs in the air, his painfully hard cock buried in your dripping cunt. 

“Hngh- please. Shit shit shit m’cumming-” you whine, hips bucking wildly into his. Tears streaming down your face, clenching so hard around his dick that it makes it hard for Geto to thrust in and out at his steady, torturous rhythm. Fucking you through- which number orgasm was this again? 

Ah, it doesn’t matter - because you didn’t squirt. Again. 

“Awww…” you can barely hear his words over the blood roaring in your ears. “Didn’t squirt on that one either. C’mon now, my love, I know y’can do it f’me.”

Not wasting a second, Geto’s ramming his cock into your snug cunt once more. Heavy balls stinging your ass with each thrust - not even easing you into it any more because oh your little sobs were so pretty. Squirming and bucking into his touch despite your protests. “S-Sugu- I hah-, can’t-”

Now, as much as Geto loved your smart mouth - he loved it even more when you’re cockdrunk and babbling underneath him. Huffing out a laugh, he murmurs in your ear, “Yes, my love?” Veins grazing that one spot. Hard. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t cum anymore!”

Well - greedy gaze drinking in the way your swollen cunt swallowed him up so well, slick dripping down to his twitching balls - Geto begged to differ.

“Shut up. You will.” he mutters, shifting the angle to hit that one spot that has you gasping and bucking your hips for more. Your fists bunching up the soaked sheets below you, fucking yourself desperately into his throbbing cock. Curling deftly against that one spot. Over and over-

“Close, my love?” Geto sing-songs, “Think this could be the one?”

And oh does he find out. Because you’re cumming again - stars behind your eyes, walls clamping down so sinfully as he fucks you through your high. Your nails claw at his shoulders in an effort to get him to fucking slow down - but no, Geto is ruthless with his abuse. Hips faltering only once you show signs of your high bating. 

And before you can even react, your boyfriend’s starting his movements again. Milking himself on your heavenly pussy. 

You can’t even form coherent sentences at this point, only fucked-out whimpers leaving your swollen lips - it’s been like this for hours now. You’ve cum more times than you can probably count, yet here Geto was - not even once tonight. A slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. All because he wanted you to fucking squirt.

His thumb was ravaging your sensitive clit, pleasure nothing more than tingles now as Geto fucking ruins you. Hips bullying his thick cock into your heated pussy, thrusts no more than sloppy little movements. Your pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor.

Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 

“C’mon, my love.” his words were so sweetly whispered in your ear - barely audible over your cries. Geto nips at your earlobe, purring lowly, “Squirt on this one, n’ I’ll fill your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum like you want s’bad.”

And then, it happens - something snaps.

Your orgasm crashes through you. So violent and hard that you see flashes of white behind your eyes. You cry out, trembling as your sloppy pussy squirts all over Geto. Covering him in all your sweet juices till his abs are glistening with your slick. Dripping down his body and absolutely soaking the sheets below.

And oh how he was entranced. Geto barely registers his own orgasm, hips faltering as he pumps thick, hot ropes of seed into your quivering cunt. Cumming at the mere sight of you creaming on his cock. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him.

It was so so worth edging the both of you to the brink of insanity. He thinks his only regret was not having you squirt all over his face too.

Well…now he only had to see if he could do it twice.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Lollipop!

Shit, you thought your best friend would have a huge dick - but this was ridiculous. 

So intimidatingly long and pretty, swollen tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching his blushing cheeks. Beads of precum leaking down, down, down the side so mouth-wateringly as you seat yourself in-between those sculpted thighs.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” Choso hisses, despite the way his cock throbs animalistically in your soft hands. 

You raise a brow, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently. “Are you sure, Cho? S’your first, after all.”

He should say no. He should laugh it off as a joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Have you choking and gagging around him. So, any rationality thrown out the window, Choso nods slowly. Entranced. 

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, hot breath making his angry cock twitch “Thought so.” 

“But are you su- hngh!” Whatever sentence at the tip of his tongue is cut off as you spit on his length. Once. Twice. Your palms smearing the saliva along his throbbing length. Enough of an answer. And then there’s no more talking. 

Choso’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief as your tongue darts out to collect the saliva and precum pooling at his head. 

Moaning at his slightly salty taste, you take in as much of him as you can - inch by fucking inch. Not stopping till your nose meets the small tufts of black hair at this toned pelvis. Because this was your devastatingly sexy best friend and he deserved the best. 

God, Choso already thinks he could pass out. 

Heavy balls squeezing so painfully, his veins graze against the roof of your mouth as you start bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless pace. Milking Choso’s pretty cock for all he’s worth. Not even easing him into his first, because fuck only one taste and you’re already addicted. 

So, really, it only makes sense that Choso was the same. “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your warm, plush mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 

Was this what heaven felt like? He really was missing out.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, feel s’good around me, sweetheart.” he groans, as you tongue at his sensitive slit. Fingers digging into the soft armrest while he tries to keep himself together.

You notice - of course you do - because soon enough you’re grabbing his arms to rest on your head, teary eyes blinking up at him so sinfully as you suck the soul out of him. 

In a split-second, Choso’s carding his fingers through your hair, holding you steady as he rams his cock down your throat. 

“Fuck- m’s-sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh- fucking good.” his words slur together, drunk off the way you gag around him. Letting yourself be so used as he fucks your mouth so ferally. Not half the man he was just a moment ago.

By God were you a vision, he thinks deliriously - tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, lips stretching so lewdly around him as you take him in and out in and out in and- And if he angled your head just right he could see the bulge in your throat. Him - all him. “Sorry- ah! s’pretty hgnh- pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

“Gonna be m’first, huh?” he moans deliriously, “”Gonna let me fuck up into that pretty lil’ mouth whenever I want?” 

The only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles, and the smacking of his heavy balls hitting your chin. This was heaven and you were an angel.

And that only makes Choso speed up his sloppy thrusts more. Each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Balls tightening, feeling his sanity crumbling away each time his throbbing erection hits the back of your throat. Over and over-

“Ah! Sweetheart- m’not gonna last long. M’close-” he lets out a guttural groan, tugging on your hair to pull you away.

But alas, you seemed every bit intent on ruining him. Because the only response he gets are your nails digging deeper into his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. Ones for him to remember you by - not that he thinks he could ever forget this.

And that itself is enough to have Choso spilling into your mouth. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

Heart in his throat, breaths ragged, Choso has to blink his vision back. And if he thought he was going to pass out before then he wasn’t ready for you to proudly stick out your tongue - showing absolutely no trace of his cum. Swallowing everything he gives.

“I-I think,” he starts, voice shot, “S’time for me to return the favor.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Drunk on you(r cunt)!

Why the hell would the King of Curses ever kneel down to anyone? 

Why would he ever wrestle your legs so shamefully open, dive nose-first into your pretty pussy, and tease you with his tongue for hours? Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock for the sole purpose of making you cum and only making you cum?

But, well, that’s exactly what happened. 

“Oh- Kuna! Please-” you mewl, big fat tears dripping down your face at this point. Not knowing whether to move your hips away or buck up into his tongue for more more more-

“What now, brat?” he hums into your dripping cunt, vibrations making you squeal. “Complained that I don’t eat out your pretty lil’ cunt n’ now you’re acting so spoiled?”

Ah, there it was - that offhand little remark that got you into this mess. “B-but,” you whine, stars behind your eyes each time Sukuna laps at your sweet juices. “Didn’t think you’d be so mean-”

All you get is a dark chuckle as Sukuna sucks on your throbbing clit, so sensitive from his relentless abuse. Rolling his tongue over it so teasingly. 

Now, this might be his first time eating you out, but he knows exactly what you need - what you crave. And the way your body trembled under his touch told Sukuna everything about how you were brinking so dangerously close to the edge. Too close. 

“Please, Kuna! Wan’ cum s’bad.” you cry out, broken little moans of pleasure leaving your swollen lips. Ones which quickly turn into disappointed whines as he pulls away. Again.

“M’not being mean.” he murmurs in your ear, drinking in that adorable little pout on your face. 

In the haze of your lust-addled mind, you barely register the way he flips you two to lay on his back. Manhandling you further up the mattress you to be splayed out so sinfully above him - thighs straddling his devastatingly handsome face, hot breath hitting your dripping cunt.

“See?” Sukuna hums, tongue darting out to catch the obscene drip! drip! drip! of your slick. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “M’the best fucking boyfriend you’ll ever have.” And with that, he’s bullying his tongue through your swollen fold. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-

“Ngh- feels s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Sukuna’s tongue. 

Why was he so reluctant again? Something about stupid fucking pride? Fuck that, Sukuna would be on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal.

God, you were pretty sure you’d be collapsing onto him if it wasn’t for the strong hand holding your hips. Grip almost bruising as he rocks you harder - more obscenely - on his tongue. The other snakes down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your swollen clit - as if you weren’t losing your sanity enough

And maybe if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that Sukuna was, too. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, pussy-drunk and watching awe-struck at the sinful sight of you. Devouring the sight of you the way he was with your cunt. 

Fuck, why does this feel so good? He wasn’t even fucking getting off, but the more he made out with your sweet cunt, the more he could feel himself edging closer and closer to the edge. Rock-hard cock angry and leaking precum all over his abs. The great Ryomen Sukuna cumming in his pants from eating his pretty girl out? 

Shit, Sukuna thinks deliriously, he was gonna have to make you cum. Soon. 

“Kuna- m’close.” you whimper, voice so soft as if you were afraid of being teased again.

“Oh yeah, brat?” he mutters into your folds, “Want it s’badly, huh? Wan’ cum on my tongue?” 

The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Yes yes yes! Can’t take it anymore, wan’ cum. Make me cum, please!” you keen. Fucked-out little whines of Sukuna’s name leaving your mouth as he speeds up his movements.

“Then cum.”

And you are, clenching so lewdly around his soft tongue as you ride out your high on his face. Your juices glossing his lips so prettily. And oh Sukuna’s so entranced by you creaming around his tongue that he almost misses the feel of thick, hot spurts of his cum now pooling on his abs. Fuck, he was going to have to do this very often.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Break him!

Gojo always fucked you like his own personal sextoy. And now, it was only time for you to pay back the favor. Which is why you had him handcuffed to the bed, shirtless and splayed out to absolutely fucking ruin. 

“Hah, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.” Gojo chuckles, tugging on the metal cuffs. Still so cocky despite the way his throbbing dick was leaking all over his sculpted abs, twitching at the mere sound of your voice. 

“How nice.” you hum, sliding your pussy across his swollen cock, drenching him in your juices. “Because I won’t be.” And before Gojo can retort, you’re sinking down on his achingly hard cock, squeezing him inside your tight cunt as much as you can. 

“Shit shit shit, yes. Your pretty lil’ pussy feel s’amazing wrapped around me. You sure you can handle it all, baby?” 

You waste no time. Slamming down on Gojo’s leaking cock in one, abrupt motion, walls burning at the stretch as your ass meets his heavy balls. They twitch against you as you start moving in steady little bounces, sliding his thick cock in and out of your dripping cunt. In out in and out in and-

“Shit, baby. Fuckin’ me s’good ah! Hngh-” Gojo’s sinful moans come in ragged bursts. Fucking up into your pussy in shallow, defiant little thrusts to bully himself deeper and deeper inside you. But not for long - because you’re pushing his hips down, nails digging into the milky skin of his hips.

“Nope.” you hum, grinning at his pout. “Not till you admit defeat, Toru.”

“What defeat? That all you got, baby?” Gojo scoffs.

Stubborn bastard.

“‘What defeat’, huh?” you taunt. Leaning down so your breath fans his pretty face, “Said I couldn’t- handle it-” Each word is punctuated by you slamming down hard onto his swollen cock. Snug cunt massaging his veins as you pull up all the way - till his leaking tip is just kissing your sloppy hole, rocking your hips down hard at a punishing pace. “Look at you now, huh?”

You risk a glance into his eyes and oh- he liked it.

The great Gojo Satoru - revered like a God since birth - liked being treated like a mere fucktoy at your hands. Loved it even - if the way he twitched inside you was anything to go by it. Oh how you enjoyed being the one to bring him down to his knees.

Immediately, your hand reaches to grab the blindfold hanging haphazardly on his neck. “C’mon, Toru.” you warn, breaths ragged at the way his fat tip kissed your cervix. Tugging - hard - Gojo breath hitches in his throat as you whisper, “Jus’ give up.”

His pretty lips part slightly as you speed up your movements. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 

“God, fuck- hah. Nah, more talk than walk, huh?”

Your hand tightens around the delicate blindfold, relishing in the wet little gurgles that leave him at the pressure around his throat. Balls squeezing painfully as you hypnotize him with your heavenly cunt. Alternating between agonizingly slow strokes and a sloppy, erratic bouncing - edging him closer and closer to the edge. Only to shatter his orgasm and his ego. Fuck.

“I know you want to cum, Toru.” your sweet voice snaps him out of his reverie, and Gojo stares up into your hazy, powerdrunk eyes. “Just admit defeat.”

“No.”

“Toru.” you start, sultry and dangerous. “Admit it.”

He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out through those long lashes. “No.” he repeats, jaw clenched tight.

A hand wraps around his blindfold, pulling him impossibly closer, not even a hair’s breadth between your sticky bodies. “Admit defeat, Toru.” your lips ghosting his, nipping at his bottom lip. “Admit defeat, n’ I’ll make your cock cum hard enough to see stars.”

And finally, “I hah- a-admit defeat.”

“Louder.”

“I was wrong! Was wrong, m’girl. Lemme cum please lemme cum-”

Throwing his head back, Gojo’s hips buck wildly into yours as you let him bully his dick into you with reckless abandon. Over and over- Using you just as much as you were using him. Not even an ounce of the God he was raised to be.

And oh does Gojo see stars - and you do too. Because with a strangled gasp of your name, he’s painting your snug cunt white with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Fucking his seed deeper and deeper, he fucks you through your high. Dazed blue eyes widening at the way your tight pussy was so overfilled, sticky seed dribbling out of you.  The sight of you creaming around his cock has his balls twitching exhaustedly. Fuck it was all too much. Flimsy handcuffs shattering with one pull, Gojo mutters raggedly, words sending shivers down your spine, “My turn, baby.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[lordprettyflackotara]

if u think i’m pretty || chris sturniolo

SMUT. 18+. Minors DNI. tw: hate fucking. lots of it. bickering while fucking? idk you get the gist. finally got around to writing about chris. can you believe i scrapped like 5 fics? 🥴 yeah me either! also, sequel with matt if yall want it ;)

“Christopher fucking Sturniolo!”

Your words were laced with venom, the staircase rumbling beneath you as you stomped upstairs. Faintly you could hear Matt call out for you, your mind too filled with rage to hear him properly.

Pornographic moans flooded your eardrums as you reached Chris’s room, your eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head. Your closed fist rattled his door, the dramatic moans coming to a screeching halt.

“Open the fucking door dickwad!” You screamed. Impatiently you tapped your foot, deciding he was taking too long. You grabbed the door handle, (surprised to find it unlocked), and swung the door open.

It was almost comical watching Chris and a girl you didn’t know scramble to get themselves dressed.

“What the fuck are you doing in here? Get the fuck out! Haven’t you ever heard of privacy?” Chris spat, shoving his gray sweatpants on. For a brief moment you felt bad for the girl, her waterline filling with tears. She was just one of many you had seen this week. You grabbed a shirt you presumed to be hers, handing it to her. You took a deep breath, containing your anger as you looked at her.

“Please get dressed and for the love of God, find someone better to fuck,” You sighed. The blonde was gone in a flash, practically sprinting out of Chris’s room. You crossed your arms, shooting lasers out of your eyes as you glared at the brunette across from you. Oh, only if looks could kill.

“I’m not believing my phone magically teleported into the dishwasher of all places,” You snarled. Your phone had been missing for six hours straight, your iphones location still saying it was at the triplets house. You had dragged Matt and Nick all around their house, searching from the ceiling to the floor. When you had finally accepted defeat, you had opened the dishwasher to grab a bowl to make a snack.

And to your displeasure, your phone was sopping wet, sitting in plain sight on the rack.

“You have zero proof I did that, literally zero,” Chris argued. Your eyes briefly flickered to his exposed chest, the amount of skin throwing you off. You shook your head, showing Chris your ruined phone. “Really? Because I can’t recall the last time you did dishes but you magically did them last night,” You snapped. Chris shrugged nonchalantly, a cocky smirk creeping across his lips.

“What can I say? I figured i’d help out the household,”

That’s it.

You chucked your phone at him, the brunette dodging the attack by seconds. It was ruined away, even the rice method was unable to save your phone. It smacked against the wall, the sound making Chris jump. “Maybe your phone wouldn’t be ruined if you weren’t having very LOUD phone sex with your boyfriend!” Chris yelled. You threw your hands up in the air, completely dumbfounded. “What are you talking about? Why would I ever-” You began arguing, before it clicked.

You weren’t having phone sex with anyone, that was for sure. But you stayed over at the Sturniolo household frequently, to the point where you were there more often than you were home. As much as Chris drove you insane, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. The concept of the attraction being forbidden, soured by years and years of bickering, did something inside of you.

You could feel heat rushing to your cheeks, even though you didn’t want it to. Chris snickered at your loss of words, shooting you a genuine smile. “What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He teased. In a swift motion you dashed across the room, your palm connecting with his cheek. Your tension with Chris had never gone beyond yelling. He had never crawled under your skin so much before, embarrassment seeping over you as you thought about the whole house hearing what he said.

A long pause silenced the room, the sound of the slap echoing through out your ears. Chris took a moment to process what you had just done, before his sharp gaze meant yours. His hand flew to your throat, gripping the sides as he threw you against the nearest wall. The air was knocked out of your lungs, your body in fight or flight mode. He easily towered over you, his sharp blue eyes filled with rage.

“You’re such a fucking whore,” Chris grumbled. He squeezed the sides of your neck harder, a whimper escaping your lips. His grip loosened, his attention fully dedicated to the sound you had made. The brunette tilted his head to the side curiously, as if he hadn’t believed what he just heard. “Did you just whimper?” He questioned. You shook your head no, Chris’s knee spreading your legs apart. Testing the waters, he brought his face closer to yours.

“You know, your little stunt prevented me from finishing earlier. Perhaps you’d like to help me out,” Chris purred, the glint of lust in your eyes telling him everything he needed to know. You rolled your eyes, your heart beginning to race as his body pressed against yours. “If you’re going to kiss me get on with it before I change my mind,” You said plainly. Chris’s grip on your throat tightened, your airway becoming restricted.

“You’ve always been a mouthy one,” He muttered, roughly bringing his lips to yours.

Chris hated how good you tasted, how good you smelled. He hated how your skin always looked so soft, your lips so plump. He despised how confident you were, always charging into everything in your life head first. What Chris actually liked, was that you challenged him. He knew that his infatuation with you wasn’t actually feelings, just raw and untamed lust. But fuck, with your lips against his, it made him want to change his mind.

The two of you clawed off each other’s clothes, discarding the clothing to the floor. Chris’s tongue swiped across your lower lip, before sliding inside. His kisses were rough and sloppy, your body addicted to the electricity he made run down your spine. You pushed him harshly against the bed, his back hitting the soft mattress underneath him.

You straddled him quickly, attempting to take control of the situation. Ever so slowly you grinded your wet cunt against his exposed shaft, a groan escaping his lips. Chris cockily put his hands behind his head, admiring you. “Go ahead, get yourself off just by grinding on me. You can do it pretty girl,” Chris instructed. You felt heat dash across your cheeks at the sound of his praise, your hips moving seemingly on their own.

Curses left your lips as you threw your head back. “Making me get myself off since you can’t do it? Figures,” You managed to say, your movements becoming more desperate. Chris leaned forward on his elbows, watching your cunt slide up and down his shift. “I’d watch your words ma, i’ll overstimulate you until you’re nothing but a cock craving whore,” Chris warned. His warning felt real, the threat in it seeking genuinely true. Even if you didn’t want to believe it.

Chris bit his bottom lip as you shamelessly grinded against him, every little movement providing pleasure to your clit. “You really think i’d fuck as many girls as I do if I couldn’t make them cum? I thought you were supposed to be smart,” Chris said coldly, mockingly tilting his head to the side. Your gaze landed back on the man beneath you, ignoring his cock in between your folds. “Yeah? I thought I was supposed to be overstimulated by now. What happened to that?” You challenged.

He was quick to change positions, your back landing against the mattress before you could think. He roughly spread your thighs apart, shoving two fingers into your cunt. A gasp of surprise was ripped from your throat, his spare hand resuming its place as your personal collar. Chris’s name spilled off of your lips as his fingers curled inside of you, his name becoming a sinful mantra. “What happened? Not so cocky now are we?” Chris taunted, watching you fall apart on his fingers.

The sight of you was enough to make his cock throb, his body craving attention. Chris remained focused, determined to corrupt you. “Open your fucking mouth slut,” Chris ordered. You so without a second thought, flattening your tongue across your bottom lip. He gripped your face harshly, leaning over and spitting into your mouth. “Swallow it,” He growled, watching you intently. You did as you were told, swallowing his saliva. You felt humiliated as it slid down your throat, the feeling euphoric.

“Thats a good girl, now why don’t you cum on my fingers for me? Hmm?” Chris asked. His words of praise made the rope inside of you snap, your orgasm washing over you without warning. Your vision went white, your thighs trembling as Chris removed his fingers from your aching cunt. You watched as he sucked them clean, maintaining eye contact with you as he did so.

Still coming down from your high, you put every last bit of energy into rolling your eyes. “Are you going to fuck me or just stare?” You asked. Chris’s cocky smile fell, replaced with a frown. “Nothings ever good enough for you, is it?” He replied, crawling on top of you. He brushed the tip of his cock up and down your folds teasingly, enjoying hearing you audibly whine for him. “Why’d you destroy my phone?” You asked, your coherent thoughts interrupted by him shoving himself inside of you.

You both moaned in unison, the unholy sounds vibrating off of the walls. “Why’d you decide to have phone sex in my house?” Chris gritted out, sliding himself further into you. He had more girth than you expected, your walls struggling to accommodate his size. “I asked you first dipshit,” You spat, fighting back a groan as he slid in further. Chris could feel your walls spasming around his cock, the sensation enough to make him cum right then and there. But he knew you’d never let him live it down.

“Yeah? Well I asked you second,” Chris replied, bottoming out inside of you. The tip of his shaft brushed against your g spot, the slightest movement of his hips making you whimper. “If you must know I wasn’t having phone sex, dumbass,” You said honestly. Chris pulled his hips back at a teasing rate, entertaining the argument. “Yeah? So what were you doing?” He questioned, doubting what you were saying. His hips bucked back into yours, hitting your g spot purposefully slow. He was drawing his thrust out, enjoying the sight of you squirming beneath him.

“I-I was thinking of you, alright? Now are you going to fuck me or what?” You rambled, embarrassed by your confession. Chris paused for a moment, soaking in your words. He leaned forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Is that so? Well, I destroyed your phone because I got jealous. You belong under me, just like this, taking my cock,” Chris purred, ignoring the embarrassment of his own confession. He pulled back slightly, allowing the two of you to make eye contact.

Out of breath and desperate, both of you panted as you stared into each other’s eyes. “Well, in that case, you better get on with it,” You said weakly. The same cocky smile that you hated plastered across his lips, his hips bucking into yours quickly. Your nails dug into his back as his hips continued to slam into yours, his cock buried inside of your cunt. Chris couldn’t hold back his own groans, your walls milking his cock dry.

With glazed eyes he met your gaze, relishing in the sound of your groans, chanting his name. “Open your mouth for me,” He ordered, his cock abusing your cervix. Chris enjoyed that you didn’t hesitate, obeying him without a second thought. He put two fingers into your mouth, shoving them as far back as he could. “Now fucking suck them slut,” He growled. With each degrading word you squeezed him harder, your body snitching on your hidden desire.

“You look so pretty like this, when you aren’t yapping that mouth of yours,” He huffed. A painful whine came from his lips, your nails purposefully digging deeper into his back. You pathetically bobbed your head up and down on his fingers, concealing your smirk as you heard him in audible pain. Chris slithered his spare hand down to your cunt, drawing fast and sloppy circles around your clit.

“Go on, cum for me. Cum on my cock like the good girl you are for me,” Chris panted. The extra sensation was enough to make you throw your head back, Chris’s fingers still lodged in your mouth. Your warning of your orgasm was muffled, your thighs shaking violently under him. The sight was going to be burned into Chris’s memory forever, the feeling of your cunt spasming around him giving him an undeniable ego boost. He fucked you through your orgasm, becoming preoccupied with chasing his own.

His fingers roughly grabbed your waist, fucking you rougher. “Shit, i’m gonna cum,” He admitted. Chris watched, mesmerized as his cock slid in and out of your cunt. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his hips beginning to stutter. You grabbed him by his throat, dragging him towards you. You put your mouth next to his ear, smirking as you told him, “Inside of me.”

You filthy fuck. For the first time your name fell from Chris’s lips as he came, his warm seed flooding your cunt. In unison you both tried to catch your breath, Chris carefully slipping out of you. The room was silent, besides desperate breathing, a knock came from Chris’s door.

“Yeah?”

“Your uh, doordash is here dude,” Matt said awkwardly. You could hear him place a bag in front of his bedroom door. “Thanks,” Chris replied, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Hey Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“Next time maybe fuck a little quieter, Nicks pretty pissed.”

You exchanged glances with Chris, watching as he shoved on a shirt.

“You heard him, be quiet next time,”

“Next time? There won’t be a next time. Mr.I lasted thirty seconds.”

The sound of you two bickering made Matt roll his eyes, causing him to walk away. He wondered if you both would ever get married, or if you both would hate fuck forever. He shrugged at the idea, heading back downstairs. All Matt knew for sure, was that your moans made him cum the hardest he ever had. And that, was enough for him.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x reader, Rossi is readers father, she is not part of the BAU, Curvy and much younger than Spencer at 26, loves how smart he is and likes to learn about facts she’s just not as smart, loves baking. Smut?? Maybe?? Thank you!

comfortable (spencer reid x fem!plussize!reader)

in which you & spencer discuss telling your dad, David Rossi, about your relationship

warnings: NSFW!!! MDNI!!! smut, smol age gap, fingering, praise kink, soft!dom Spencer, pet names

word count: 3658

A/N: thanks for this request 🥹 it was really fun and I think maybe a pt 2 where they actually tell Rossi could be a lot of fun, can you imagine the way Rossi’s eyes would bug out of his head 💀

He was standing in the doorway of your off-campus apartment with this goofy grin on his face. He was older than you - only by a few years, but still in an entirely different stage of life - and he worked with your dad, but you’d never felt butterflies like these before.

It felt like movie love. Like romance novel love, and not those cheesy paperbacks with the Fabio-type model on the front. But like the more modern ones, the ones with the cartoon people on the covers and the big, colorful block letters. You had about a hundred of them on your bookcase. You could go reference them right now if you really wanted to.

Spencer Reid blinked those big, brown eyes at you and your mouth flickered uncontrollably into a soft smile. “Your doorbell doesn’t work,” Spencer pointed out by way of greeting. He still had that goofy grin on his face as you stepped aside so he could come in. You locked the door behind him.

“Didn’t I tell you that?” You mused, turning around to face him. He’d been to your apartment before, but usually trailing after you. Never meeting you here. He shook his head.

Then he lifted the bouquet of flowers in his hands and your smile grew into a full-blown grin. “What’re these for?” You squealed, taking the bouquet and immediately raising them to your nose. Baby pink carnations. He remembered your favorite flower.

He remembered everything, you reminded yourself.

“They’re your favorites. You said they reminded you of your mom’s house,” Spencer said, then took one of those sharp breaths that told you he was about to bequeath upon you a boatload of information. You barely had time to swoon over the fact that he remembered why carnations were your favorite.

“Did you know that carnations were actually mentioned in literature as far back as Ancient Greece? The name is believed to come from the Latin corona - meaning crown or wreath, as it was one of the more common flowers used to make laurels and crowns,” Spencer rattled off.

“We should make flower crowns out of them,” you proposed with an excited giggle, walking past Spencer and into the small kitchen of your apartment. He chuckled and followed you, standing behind you as you took the plastic sleeve off the bouquet, holding the flowers over the sink so water wouldn’t get on the floor. “Oh,” you murmured, not realizing how thick the stalks of the flowers were. “We can’t tie these together,” you pouted.

Spencer’s hands found your hips as he stood behind you, his palms contouring to match your curves. His lips met the side of your head, between your temple and your hairline. “You could put them on your table?” He suggested.

You felt stuck with the dripping flowers in your hand and the overwhelming desire to turn around and kiss your boyfriend silly. “Vase,” you blurted out instead of speaking like a normal human being. Spencer made your brain turn into mush.

“Where?”

“Shelf by the fridge.”

Spencer’s hands left your hips, but not before he gave them a gentle squeeze, as if to say I’ll be back soon. You turned your head to the side and watched as Spencer grabbed the vase off the shelf, returning to your side in moments to help you set the flowers in it.

This relationship was still very new. It had been about three months since you went out to lunch with your dad on some random Thursday, and he brought you back to work with him to introduce you to his team. It had been eight weeks since Spencer took you out for the first time - dinner and a walk around the nearest park, where Spencer had grabbed your hand for the first time, where he’d rambled off some fact about willow trees you couldn’t be bothered to remember because shortly after, he’d pressed his lips to yours and you’d made out underneath one.

He was away a lot, which was to be expected, given the nature of the BAU’s work. But he called you when he could, and he made every effort to see you when they weren’t on assignment. You couldn’t really talk with him about work - “it’s classified,” he’d always say with a thin-lipped smile, as if to say he’d really like to tell you, but he just couldn’t.

“What’re you thinking about?” Spencer asked as you floated from the sink to set the vase of flowers on the kitchen table. His voice always pulled you out of your own head.

“Nothing in particular, really,” you told him, turning to face him. Spencer reached a hand out and took yours, tugging you to him. “You, mostly,” you teased as his palms lay against your hips. “I think it might be time.”

“Time?” Spencer asked as he craned his neck down to kiss you, briefly, on the lips. So, his mind was obviously elsewhere.

“Time,” you confirmed. “To tell my dad. About us.”

Spencer pulled his head back so he could look at you properly, his fingers dug into the soft, sensitive flab above your hip bones, and you scrunched your nose up because it tickled, resisting the urge to giggle. “You do, do you?” He asked, a playful smile crossing his lips. “And here I thought you enjoyed the secrecy.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I hate it,” you laughed breathily. “I hate lying to my dad.”

“For the record, we haven’t lied about anything,” Spencer pointed out. “We’ve just withheld information. It’s entirely different.”

That was true, you supposed. When your dad asked you last week at your monthly dinner at his house if you were seeing anyone, you just nodded and told him you weren’t ready to tell him about it yet, and he respected that. You didn’t not tell him it was his coworker.

“I guess so,” you replied, your lips pursing into the corner of your mouth.

To Spencer’s credit, the whole keeping-it-from-your-dad thing was your idea. You’d done it for a multitude of reasons - mostly so you could figure out if this thing with Spencer was going to go anywhere before your dad was in the loop, so you could go with Spencer at your own pace, get to know him without any third-party interventions.

“We’ve talked about this, Y/N. It’s not anything to feel guilty about. Yeah?” Spencer reminded you, lifting one of his hands from your hips to curl his index finger and tuck it under your chin. He guided your gaze to meet his. “You’re an adult, and you can see whoever you want to see. When and if you tell Rossi is entirely up to you.”

“I know,” you nodded, sighing softly, your arms lifting and reaching up to wind around his neck. Spencer’s lips broke out in a soft smile at the action. “Isn’t it weird for you at work, though?”

“Not really?” Spencer phrased it as a question, shrugging his shoulders a little bit. “There’s never really time for personal conversation when we’re on a case, and if there is, I usually just deflect to someone else. Although, there was a close call while we were on our way back this last time,” he began, the hand under your chin dropping and moving back to your hip, guiding you back so you were flush against the kitchen counter.

“Oh, god, what happened?” You asked as you hopped up so your rear splayed out atop the counter, and Spencer moved to stand between your legs. Despite the lack of gap between your thighs, Spencer’s lanky frame fit comfortably between them. His fingers spread palm-side down against the tops of your thighs. You were biting your lip as your boyfriend continued with his story.

“I guess I was grinning down at a text you’d sent me, the one about your Short Fiction Analysis exam,” he explained, referring to one of the classes you were taking this term. “You’d said you thought Shirley Jackson was underrated, that The Lottery was one of your favorite short stories ever and you would stone anyone who disagreed,” you snickered at this, and Spencer’s hands slid just slightly further up your thighs. “That was the same reaction I had,” Spencer pointed out with a small laugh. “And Rossi’d been the one to catch it. He said that my expression was one that could only be caused by a beautiful woman.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. That sounded like your dad, all right. “And what did you say?” You asked, willing the blush in your cheeks to go away. Spencer knew already that he made you feel like you were on fire with just a simple touch, but still. Your lack of experience and the fact that you were younger than him, still in college… it always made you feel even more flustered.

“I said I could neither confirm nor deny,” Spencer laughed self-deprecatingly, rolling his eyes at himself. “And then I changed the subject. I pulled Derek in the conversation and asked him about his girlfriend.”

“Very strategic,” you commented with a bob of your throat.

“But if you want to tell him, and you think you’re ready, then I think we should,” Spencer added, and you smiled just slightly at this.

“Okay,” you smiled hazily, just as Spencer bent down to kiss you. His hands traveled to the waistband of your sweatpants and your breath hitched in your throat.

“This okay?” Spencer asked just as his long fingers curled around the waistband on either side of your hips.

You’d pulled the sweatpants all the way up over your belly button, and your tummy was incredibly ticklish. So your voice was breathy and shaky when you responded. “Mmhm.”

“If it’s not, you need to tell me,” Spencer reminded you in a low whisper, his lips planting along kissing your neck, each one tacky like a postage stamp.

“It’s okay,” you reiterated, forcing your voice to sound more full. Your hands had moved to lay flat against his chest, but now your fingers curled around the crinkly fabric of his blue dress shirt. You’d never dated anyone who dressed so grown up before. “I’m good.”

“Good,” Spencer murmured as his lips traveled up to your chin. He was mapping out your entire face jawline with his lips, until finally your mouths met. He was slow and intentional at first, like he was savoring it, probably making observatory notes in his head. When his tongue teased your lips apart, you allowed him in, a small whimper escaping you.

You had scooted forward on the countertop, squeezing Spencer’s body between your thighs. Your toes curled as one of Spencer’s hands lifted to cradle the back of your head, holding your face to his like an oxygen mask. And he kept breathing you in, his tongue expertly dancing with yours, kissing you so that when he finally pulled back, you couldn’t breathe.

You were panting, your whole face red as Spencer’s hand moved from the back of your head to one of your full cheeks. His thumb swiped across your cheek and the corners of his mouth just flickered upward. “I really missed you,” he whispered, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. His other hand still rested on the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping beneath it and padding around your stretch marks.

“I missed you, too,” you murmured back, and Spencer just smiled at this lazily. “Do you… do you want to…”

Spencer’s smile slowly turned into a patient smirk. “Do I want to what?” He asked all-knowingly, his eyes meeting yours. Your cheeks flushed again, bashful and embarrassed to even ask him.

“Do you want to go to my bed?” You exhaled, and Spencer’s head dipped to press a brief kiss to your lips.

“What makes you think I can’t take care of you right here?” He smirked, and the hand on your cheek floated back down to your waistband. “Can I please take your sweatpants off, pretty girl?”

Your breath stopped and you nodded. “Yeah, but… Spence?” You pressed the pads of your fingers into his chest. His gorgeous brown eyes met yours.

“What is it?”

“If you’re going to, like, you know, right here,” you began, your chest rising and falling slowly. “I just don’t think I can, like, spread my legs apart enough for you to…”

“Would you be more comfortable lying down, Y/N?” Spencer asked. What you loved was that he wasn’t impatient about it, he wasn’t annoyed. He could just tell you were having trouble articulating your concerns and he wanted to help. He was reading your mind - well, scientifically speaking, he was probably reading your behavior and your body language - but he just got it so quick.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sighing softly in relief that he understood.

“Then let’s lie you down,” Spencer agreed. He kissed you once more, briefly, stepped back, holding his hands out to help you off the counter. Your knees were weak for multiple reasons as you wobbled towards your bedroom, letting Spencer guide you so you were flat on your back, looking up at him. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer hovered over you. One knee outside your leg, the other very much in between them, his hands gripping your shoulders. Spencer craned down to kiss you again, as if a car had been jump started, and you were once again lost in it, unable to think about anything else but the man on top of you and how much you loved the way he touched you.

He wasn’t afraid of your body or how you’d react - rather, he seemed to find arousal in you being comfortable. His hands moved down to your waistband once again, obviously his fixation for the day, and he asked you again if it was okay that he remove your pants. You just nodded and told him, “yes.”

Even though the word had come out softly and raspy, in the back of your mind, you were screaming for the love of god, yes. If you stop touching me, I might commit heinous crimes.

Soon your pants were off, with some strategic shimmying over your hips and thighs, and you watched with a slightly amused expression as Spencer tossed them aside carelessly. He never did anything carelessly, so the action was a nice ego boost, knowing you could cause his system to glitch just as much as he could yours.

Spencer’s hands went back to your hips, sliding under the bottom hem of your t-shirt, inching closer to your breasts as your pelvis lifted, searching desperately for any kind of friction, your center making contact with Spencer’s knee between your legs. He dug his knee in a little further, your underpants acting as a thin divider.

“Can I take your shirt off, beautiful?” Spencer asked, and all the nerve endings in your face went numb.

“When are you gonna lose some clothes, pal?” You asked breathlessly, taken aback by your own sassiness. Spencer was too, but he laughed, a brimful sound that would have knocked you over if you weren’t already lying down.

Spencer’s laugh still lined his voice as he looked down at you. “I guess it’s only fair,” he chuckled. “Which would you-“

“Shirt,” you tugged at his collar pathetically, your fingers shaking as you tried to undo the buttons.

That stupid smirk rose on his face and Spencer kissed your nose teasingly before he took his hands in yours. “Need me to get those for you?” He asked, and you nodded. Deftly, his fingers worked the buttons until the shirt was shrugging off his shoulders. You watched with your mouth hung ajar like a garden gate.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Spencer bent down at his waist again to continue his cartographic exploration of your neck and jaw, his kisses feather light and so, so frustrating. His hands slid up your shirt again, gliding smoothly over your supple skin, his fingertips tracing your stretch marks. “Now that we’re on a level playing field,” Spencer said between kisses. “Can I please take off your shirt?”

A sound escaped you, a combination of breathy laughter and a desperate whine. “Yeah,” you murmured. Your hands moved to run through his perfect hair. It was so soft, so clean. How did he have time to keep it so clean? Your fingertips dug at his scalp as Spencer’s knee dug once again into the space between your legs. You groaned as Spencer guided you to lift your torso so your t-shirt could be tugged off over your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he commented, and you felt your cheeks redden. He kissed your lips, his swollen and plump against yours as his hands traveled down. He swung the knee that was in between your legs over so that he fully straddled you now. He seemed to want to be everywhere - your breasts, your stomach, your lips, between your legs. It was like he couldn’t decide.

“What do you want, Spence?” You asked him, and Spencer’s eyes snapped to yours. Your tongue jutted out to moisten your lips.

“What do I want?” Spencer repeated, looking at you with an incredulous expression. “I want to make you feel good, angel. Do you want me to do that for you? Do you want me to make you feel good?”

“God. Yes.” You huffed. Spencer’s mouth was on yours in an instant, kissing you repeatedly as his hand traveled down. Hovering over your underwear, Spencer’s thumb pressed against your fabric-covered center and you felt him groan, the sound reverberating through your mouth.

“You’re so wet, Y/N,” he observed and your back arched instinctively, needing him.

“Spence,” you rasped.

“Say it again,” Spencer’s eyes met yours and his brow arched just as you felt him dip his index and middle fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“Please, Spencer,” you managed to get out.

“That’s it,” he smirked, kissing your lips once as a reward before sliding your underpants down your thighs. You lifted your legs and he helped you out of them, tossing them aside like they were just collateral damage. His index finger was quick to tease at your folds, and you wondered if he had been thinking about this all day. “Open your legs a little bit more for me, angel,” he instructed.

You succumbed to his request almost instantly, and when Spencer’s finger rubbed against your clit, you had to bite back a moan. “What have I told you about holding back?” Spencer chastised you, and your eyes locked onto his. “I told you, don’t ever muffle yourself, baby. I want to hear every noise.”

“Spencer…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Don’t you dare.”

“That’s my girl,” Spencer smirked, and began to pump his two fingers into you. Your legs began to close on instinct, but Spencer’s other hand pushed your hair out of your eyes. “Keep ‘em open, beautiful,” he said patiently, his fingers increasing exponentially in speed. “You hear how wet you are?”

“Mmm,” was all you could say as the filthy, wet sounds emitted from your middle.

“And that’s all for me, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you choked out as your hips bucked towards his fingers.

Spencer’s fingers were relentless as he fucked you with them. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your vision going white and hazy from the pleasure, from your walls tightening around Spencer’s incredibly deft digits.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Just hang on a little longer, yeah?” Spencer cooed, his voice genuinely, tooth-achingly sweet, and you felt his lips beneath your ear. He kissed the skin there, and you felt him move his lips up to your earlobe, taking it briefly between his teeth. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he reiterated in a low whisper.

Your hands clawed desperately against his bare back for some iota of purchase, moving from his back to his hair, to his neck as he fucked you senseless. You were getting so close, whiny, needy little whimpers escaping you as Spencer continued to pump into you. And finally - finally - you reached your peak. Spencer didn’t let up, letting you ride your orgasm for as long as you could. Stars blurred your vision, and all you could see were those dark brown eyes looking so lovingly down at you.

And when you finally started to come down, Spencer’s movements slowed. He was never the type to immediately pull out. No, he merely turned down the intensity as you caught your breath, rubbing your clit gently as his fingers - soaked with you - slowly came out of you.

“How do you feel?” he asked as you panted, your eyes meeting his.

You opened your mouth to say something - anything, but no words came out. “Baby, use your words,” Spencer encouraged, and you huffed, frustrated with yourself, that you couldn’t say much of anything right now.

“G-good,” you whispered with a hoarse voice. Spencer used his clean hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Very good,” you added.

“Very descriptive,” Spencer teased with a smirk, and you were too ravished to play back.

You managed to prop yourself up on to your elbows just as Spencer moved off of you, laying down on his side so he could kiss your neck soothingly. “Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah?” you breathed, turning so you were on your side, so you could face him.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered, and your eyes widened. You thought for a second he might be playing some sick joke, but then you looked in his eyes and saw how clear, how serious they were. Your lips flickered into a small, tired yet ridiculously happy smile. “You don’t have to say it back if you-“

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your lips meeting his in a long, slow, lazy kiss, feeling deliriously, stupidly happy.

——

A/N 2: I’ve never actually written smut before (I’ve read plenty lmfao) so if something is weird OR if you have any suggestions plzzzzz tell me I can take constructive criticism on this front xD

[emchant3d]

part 2 of runaway bride stevie! modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington pt 1

Eddie Munson is not having a good day.

His phone died last night so his alarm didn’t go off, his bassist is sick so their gig tonight has to be canceled, and his last three Uber rides have stiffed him on a tip.

He accepts a request from some dude named Scott with a terrible comb-over in his profile picture and gives himself two seconds to bang his forehead into his steering wheel in frustration with a closed-mouth scream. Then he dials it back so he doesn’t seem absolutely fucking insane. He can see the suit he’s about to escort to some fucking meeting even though he’d rather be doing any-fucking-thing else, and he pastes a fake smile on to greet him. He’s gearing up to fall into the usual routine of this godforsaken job, but then it all goes a little sideways.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and then a blur of a body is slamming into poor Scott from behind, shoulder checking him and almost sending him careening onto the sidewalk. The dude pinwheels his arms like a cartoon character, suit jacket puffing up around his shoulders awkwardly, expression so baffled it makes Eddie snort despite himself.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbles, and he’s reaching for his seatbelt to see if the guy needs any help - he looks like he might break a hip if he hits the ground - but then a whirlwind of white fabric swoops into his backseat and a loud, desperate voice yells "DRIVE!" in his ear, and he sort of just thinks 'sure, why the fuck not,' and slams his foot on the gas.

The car fishtails a bit and the tires squeal as he swerves into traffic, horns honking after him, and he picks a direction at random, going way too fast for this area of town.

His heart is pounding in his chest, worst case scenarios running through his head. He’s going to get car jacked. He’s going to go to jail for being an unwitting getaway driver. But there isn’t any more yelling from the back seat, just heavy, panicked breathing, and he settles into traffic and slows down to a more normal speed before he cuts his eyes up to the rearview mirror.

Time stops.

It’s Stevie.

He can’t believe he didn’t recognize her the second he saw her, but in his defense, it's not like he was expecting to see his ex-girlfriend in a goddamn wedding dress running like she stole something today.

Pure panic wraps tight around his throat as he takes her in - is she hurt? In danger? Nothing good could have had her sprinting away from her own wedding, but it seems like she’s just shaken up.

His heart calms a bit once her tears dry and they get properly on the road.

And shit, it’s so unfair, because she's just as breathtaking as she was the day they split. She looks just as sad, too, which is certainly not how a woman like Stevie Harrington should look on her wedding day. But seeing her in a gown like that - Jesus Christ. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. It’s like something out of a fantasy, seeing her in the exact kind of dress she used to whisper to him about wanting, the kind of dress he’d once promised to marry her in. Of course, they fell apart before he could even get a ring on her finger, but it still sends his stomach swooping to see the future they’d spoken about come to life.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he can’t help but ask, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah,” she says, voice high and a little squeaky. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just in my ex-boyfriend's car after I left my fiance at the altar, it’s all fine, it’s chill.”

“Okay,” he says haltingly, delicately, because Stevie Harrington is not the kind of person who says it’s chill, “it’s just that, you know, all of that sounds decidedly not chill.”

“This is so chill. It’s the chillest I’ve ever been, actually - hold on–” she says, and next thing he knows a swirl of silk is blocking his view and he sputters a bit as the train of her dress smacks him in the face, but she’s clambering gracelessly from the back seat and over the console to plop down on the passenger side with a loud huff and a cloud of perfume.

It’s different from what she used to wear. She used to smell spicy and warm, with notes of amber and cinnamon. He’d kiss the little spots in her wrists where she’d spritz it on, trace the veins beneath the tan skin with his nose to keep the scent of her with him.

Now she smells like vanilla and something floral, airy and light. Like he stepped into a bakery. It’s not bad, of course it’s not bad, but it’s…different. Not her.

Or not his version of her, anyway.

This is someone else’s Stevie now, and she smells like fucking cookies instead of home.

Instead of commenting on it, he just tells her to put on her seat belt, and she looks at him like he’s an idiot.

“And wrinkle this dress?” she says, her nose curling a little, and God she’s such a bitch and he’s missed it so much.

“I hate to break it to you,” he tells her, “but some wrinkles are not the worst damage that thing has seen today.” There are small grey splotches on the bodice where her makeup dripped as she cried earlier, and the hemline has some muddy staining from her mad dash on the sidewalk. It’s not ruined, but it’ll have to be cleaned, and a couple of wrinkles will be the easiest thing to get out of the formerly pristine fabric.

He glances over at her in time to see her run her hands over the skirt of the dress, smoothing it out over her thighs. It shifts, the leg slit parting to show her skin, teasing at the hint of a crease where her thigh and stomach meet, and Eddie rips his gaze away to stare at the road instead.

“Probably for the best, anyway,” he says, and he feels her eyes latch onto his profile.

“And why’s that?” she asks, and he smirks.

“Well, pure white? C’mon, Stevie, we both know that’s a lie.” He flashes her a wicked grin and she makes an outraged sound, but a small smile is teasing at her mouth even as her cheeks flush.

She kicks off her heels - red bottoms, because of fucking course they are - and slouches in the seat. She pushes herself up, adjusting in the pile of silk and corsetry she’s been strapped into, and he sees the absolute mountain of a rock on her hand, and manages to bite his tongue about it being the gaudiest thing he’s ever seen.

"So who was the lucky guy?" Eddie asks before he can stop himself, and the glare Stevie gives him could cut glass. “Or lucky woman. Person? Far be it from me to deny you your bisexual rights.”

He probably sounds like a jealous asshole, but he can't help it. He's the getaway driver for his one that got away on her fucking wedding day, and he feels like he deserves to ask a few questions.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel as the silence lingers, but eventually, Stevie just groans, letting her head fall back against the headrest dramatically.

"Don't laugh," she demands, and Eddie shakes his head.

"Scout's honor," he promises, and he swears a wry little grin teases at her lips.

“You were never a scout. You would have been kicked out for inciting a riot.”

“Hey, I just ensured we all earned our arson badges, okay? I did every one of those kids a favor.” Stevie scoffs, and it almost sounds fond.

Then she says, “Tommy,” and he almost swerves into oncoming traffic.

"HAGAN?" he says, louder than he means to, and her hand flies up to grab the oh-shit bar.

“Eddie, Jesus!” she says, glaring at him, and he shakes his head, focusing back on the road.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, but fucking - really? “Really?” He can’t help himself. “Tommy Hagan?”

“Yes, really, Tommy Hagan,” she says hotly, like she’s defensive, like she didn’t just leave the schmuck at the fucking altar.

“Well that explains the ring, at least.” She reaches over, smacking at his arm, which, thanks to the aforementioned ring, is probably going to bruise. “Hey, ow!” He glares at her, taking a hand off the wheel to rub his bicep. “Watch it, that thing’s a weapon.”

“Then stop sassing me about it,” she snaps, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms and her face falls into that adorable bitchy little pout he’s always fucking loved, and he looks away again.

He can’t help but glance back over at her left hand. The ring is…certainly something. Giant, square, one big diamond surrounded by other, smaller diamonds, with even more diamonds on the band. It looks heavy and cumbersome and like she’s going to smack it into every wall and door and get it caught in her hair and seriously, he’s pretty sure he’s already got a knot forming on his arm where the thing hit him.

It looks like Tommy walked into the priciest jewelry store he could find and asked for the most expensive ring they had.

It looks like a status symbol.

It doesn’t look like her.

“Apologies, highness,” he says, shaking himself free of his thoughts. It’s not fair to hold her to those standards. He hasn’t spoken to her in years. He can’t know what kind of person she is now.

But there’s still a bone-deep knowing that overtakes him at the feeling of the woman next to him. A sense of deja vu so strong it threatens to knock him over.

A different car, a different time, a different circumstance, but the same person. The same love.

He’d picked a direction at random, but as the streets become more familiar, he realizes he’s heading towards his place. It’s as good as any, he figures, and he shifts lanes, reaching to tap on his phone and shutting down his Uber account.

“You know, I almost expected you’d still be driving that beat up old van,” Stevie says suddenly, and he crows a laugh.

“Ah, Van Halen, you served me well until you almost blew up on the highway,” he says fondly. “Lost her about a year ago. It was tragic. I held a funeral.” She laughs again, shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says, turning that pretty smile his way, and his heart does a somersault.

“That was a very impressive move back there, by the way,” he tells her, “that shoulder check of that old defenseless businessman?” He whistles. “Haven’t seen anybody move that quick to steal an old man’s ride before, really, it should have been documented.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” she says, but there’s a laugh in her voice, and she brings up her hands to press to her pink cheeks. He can’t help but keep digging.

“No, seriously! And sprinting like that in heels? And in that dress? What’s that thing weigh, like twenty pounds?”

“It’s a dress, not a suit of armor,” she tells him, but her smile is growing, making her eyes crinkle.

“Just saying, it was pretty metal,” he shrugs, and she snorts.

“Well, you would know,” she says, and he ignores the way his face flushes in response. She gives a little sigh, wiping below her eye and frowning at the smear of black on her fingers.

“Here,” he says, reaching across her. His arm brushes her leg as he opens the glove box and he’s so fucking normal about it. He pulls out a few fast food napkins, holding them out to her. “No makeup wipes in here, but that’ll help with the worst of it.”

“Thanks,” she says, and she flips the visor down, tapping a napkin to her tongue to wet it before wiping at the mascara tracks running down her face. “God,” she groans, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smear, “I look like a raccoon.”

“A very cute raccoon,” he says before he can stop himself. Jesus, Munson, dial it back. “Like the raccoon that’s about to get the best trash in the bin, she doesn’t even have to ask for it.” Stop talking. “The other raccoons are just gonna give it to her, on account of how cute she is.” He’s gonna throw himself into traffic.

“Did you just call me a raccoon on my wedding day,” she asks. Fine, commit to the bit.

“You called yourself a raccoon on your wedding day. I was just agreeing with you,” he replies, keeping his eyes fixed to the road.

Her eyes are on him - he can feel her stare burning into the side of his face, and his cheeks are going pink and blotchy and God, he’s an idiot–

And then she laughs. Not her polite little contained laugh, either, no, this is that loud, wide mouthed laugh that she hates, that makes her shoulders shake and her head fall back. It’s squeaky and hearty and a little obnoxious and he’s always been so obsessed with getting her to let it out, and he can’t help the smug beaming little smile he gives at the sound.

“You’re such an ass,” she says through her laugh, and Eddie can’t help but laugh with her even if it’s at his own expense, because at least she doesn’t look so goddamn sad anymore.

When they finally reach his apartment complex she’s a little more subdued, but the look on her face isn’t totally heartbreaking, and he’ll take what he can get. He comes around to the passenger side to open her door for her and helps her gather the dramatic skirt of her dress to keep it off the pavement as they head towards the stairs, and he knows he looks like an insane person as he carts a bride down the hall, but he just smiles at his nosy neighbors and lets this cement his reputation as the weird as fuck off-putting metalhead he knows they all think of him as.

He feels a little self conscious as he opens the apartment door for her, sweeping an arm dramatically to allow her to enter first. For the first time since she swept into his car, he wonders if this is a good idea. But it’s too late now – Stevie’s giving him a little smile and stepping into his home, and part of him knows this was inevitable. She may not have called him, but he was always going to come if she needed him.

He follows her inside and tries to calm the pounding of his heart, watching her take in his space, struck all over again by her beauty and the impossibility of her standing here, and silently prays he isn’t going to fuck it up all over again.

this was almost even longer, but I figure 2.5k is enough for a part 2! no tag lists, sorry, but part 3 will be here at some point. thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this au these two are very near and dear to me 💕

[ellecdc]

Okie but I really would love more Barty x potter sibling reader it just makes me happy I don’t care if it’s smut fluff angst I will read whatever you write please👉🏻👈🏻

love these goofs so much, thanks for your request!

Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who feels really bad for manatees

CW: talking about how it's illegal to interact with manatees and how sad that is (read: it's fluff), fem!reader, reader has long enough hair to push behind her ear

It had taken a bit of coercion on James’ part to convince Regulus to join him up in Gryffindor tower tonight - and by coercion, I mean James batted his eyelashes dramatically and promised lots of cuddles and kisses for Regulus’ ‘trouble’ - but James was feeling quite chuffed as he and his now official boyfriend stepped through the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room.

Those feelings of chuffedness quickly vanished when he spotted you cozied up in an armchair built for one with none other than Barty Crouch Junior. 

“Who would you rather she be with, James?” Regulus hissed at him, alerting James to the fact that he’d been grumbling aloud.

“Anyone.” He muttered petulantly.

Regulus scoffed in response. “Please; I hardly think you’d believe anyone good enough for your sister.”

James thought that Regulus was quite right. 

“I think you’re quite right.” He admitted aloud before starting towards the two of you. 

“James Fleamont Potter.” Regulus hissed as he grabbed James roughly by the sleeve. “You look at me right now.”

James wrenched his eyes away from you to look at Regulus’ fuming (though no less beautiful) eyes, dividing his attention between two of the people he loved the most in the whole world. 

“James Potter, boyfriend or not I will drown you in the Black Lake and leave you to the sodding squid if you go over there right now.”

James ripped his gaze from where Barty’s hand sat on your knee to look at his boyfriend scandalized. “You wouldn’t.”

“You know I would.” Regulus threatened promised. “Do not fuck around with the only love he receives.”

James fought the urge to whine as he turned his gaze back over to the two of you; you were speaking animatedly, gesticulating wildly as you lamented about something James would have absolutely told you to shut the fuck up about nearly 30 seconds in.

“You can see how much he worships her, Jamie. And I think you should feel grateful knowing that there is truly no one who would be as devoted to her as he is.”

James did whine petulantly at that, even perhaps embarrassingly stomping his foot a little bit, though he would deny it if you asked. “I hate it.”

“Tough.” Regulus said simply, pulling James over to a love seat near the fireplace; close enough to see and hear the two of you, but not close enough that the pair would alert either of you to their presence. “Just be quiet and watch.”

James made a dramatic gagging sound earning him a smack up the back of the head from his boyfriend, but he acquiesced and turned his attention back to the two of you.

You were curled up on Barty’s lap; your back resting against the arm of the chair and your feet tucked under Barty’s thigh that you weren’t currently perched on.

You regularly tried to shove your feet under people that you were sitting with because your feet were always cold; James knew this because he’d swatted at your legs enough times for doing it to him. Barty didn’t seem to mind much though.

He also didn’t seem to mind that you were holding one of his hands hostage in yours as you fiddled and played with the various rings adorning his hands, speaking a million miles a minute and hardly pausing to take a breath.

“I just think it’s so sad. I mean; they don’t know! They don’t know that it’s not safe for them to be around people, but I can’t help thinking; what if they think we’re ignoring them?!” You asked emphatically.

Barty’s eyebrows rose to mirror yours as he raised his free hand to push a lock of hair behind your ear that had fallen in your theatrics.

“It’s because they have no natural predators, you see.” You continued solemnly, earning you an ‘oh, really?’ from Barty. “Many people think that sharks or alligators may pose a threat to manatees; but the species peacefully coexist. So, you know, then all of a sudden there are these long noodly manatee things in the water and the manatees are just like ‘holy shit; that’s a weird looking manatee! I’ve never seen one of those before.’ And then they try to make friends or say hello, but it’s illegal for humans to touch them.”

“Illegal?” Barty queried. “To touch an animal begging you to touch it?”

��Exactly!” You agreed quite loudly, if you asked James. He watched though as Barty’s hand moved back down to your legs and brushed his thumb in soothing circles as he kept his attention dutifully on you. “So they’re asking for pets or saying hello and trying to make friends; and people have to just…keep swimming. I’m sure they believe we must be quite rude, always ignoring them like that.”

You sounded actually quite dejected at the thought; your face falling as you looked down at Barty’s hand in your lap.

“Do you think perhaps there are mermaids where the manatees live?” Barty asked, earning him an eager gasp from you as you seemed to remember something.

“That’s brilliant Barty.” You shouted; and though James expected a cocky expression to grace Barty’s face at being told he was right about something, it never came. In fact, his face remained dutifully lovesick. 

“Did you know that muggles used to believe manatees were actually mermaids or sirens during the late 15th century?”

Barty scoffed at that. “Well they’ve clearly never seen a mermaid before if they believe those sweet things resemble one.”

“Well yes, but I think muggles imagine mermaids differently. More just a beautiful lady living in the water, maybe with a tail; the beauty standards back then idealized curvy women.”

“Obviously, curvy birds are hot.”

“I know!” You agreed quickly. “I’m sure though that if we have mermaids in the sodding Black Lake, surely they have them in the America's?”

Barty was quickly nodding his head at you. “I’m sure I’ve read somewhere that they do, Princess.”

“Yeah?” You asked hopefully.

James watched as Barty’s face broke out in a soft grin as you met his eyes. “Would I ever lie to you?”

You shook your head in response and returned your gaze to your lap where you continued playing with his hand. 

“Maybe the mermaids are friends with the manatees? They look like they’d just love some belly rubs.” You mused.

“Perhaps someone just needs to tell the mermaids to tell the manatees that it’s for their own good.”

You looked back up at that. “Yeah?”

“They could be like our underwater owl; we just travel to…”

“Florida.” You offered for him.

“Florida and find some mermaids to deliver our message.”

You seemed to consider the idea before looking back at him. “I think you might have to do it alone.”

Barty tilted his head at you and squeezed your calf. “You wouldn’t want to come with me to swim with manatees and mermaids?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think I could; if a manatee approached me I would have to pet it and then the manatees would all die and it would be my fault.”

Barty hummed in understanding and brought one of his hands to your chin. “Okay, Princess; I’ll be your oceanic owl.”

“You’d do that for me?”

Barty gently pulled you by your chin to slot your lips together. “I would do anything for you.”

James, having had quite enough of seeing such sickening displays of love thank you very much, turned his very unimpressed glare to Regulus, who was already looking at him with one perfectly arched eyebrow. 

“That’s disgusting.” He grumbled indignantly. 

“Are you telling me you wouldn’t be a manatee’s owl for me? Don’t I deserve that?”

James scoffed derisively at that. “I think it’s very obvious I would; you’re the most deserving person I know!”

“Then doesn’t your sister deserve that too?” Regulus asked gently.

James’ eyes moved back over to where you were now tracing delicate shapes over Barty’s face with your forefinger, yet he still couldn’t seem to force his eyes away from lovingly gazing at you.

“Let me ask you this, Jamie.” Regulus asked, joining James in watching his friend and James’ sister from afar. “Do you think there’s a line you would draw when it comes to how far you’d go for me?”

“No!”

“No?”

“Of course not.” James insisted.

“So you’d kill your mother for me?”

What?

“What?” James asked dumbly.

Regulus smirked. “Would you kill your own mother for me?”

“Erm,”

“Jamie.”

“Yeah?”

“The answer is no; that’s the right answer.”

“Oh thank Godric.” James sighed, holding his head in his hands. 

“But Barty would; Barty would raze the entire fucking earth for Y/N.” Regulus continued. “And even if he wouldn’t,” He continued when James seemed to take issue with that. “How long would you have let her talk about manatees?”

James huffed and crossed his arms petulantly, even though he knew the answer. The answer was that he would have cut her off the second he realized she wasn’t talking about quidditch or pranks.

“She’s very loved, James. And he…” Regulus seemed to take an emotional breath as he watched his oldest friend take your hand and bring it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You Potter’s love like no one else I’ve ever known, James.”

James turned his full attention to his boyfriend and took one of Regulus’ hands in both of his.

“You love loudly, and openly, and freely, and everyone around you is better for it. Barty most of all.” 

James let out a sigh and kissed Regulus’ knuckles. 

“Fine.” He relented in faux irritation. 

Regulus chuckled and pressed a shy kiss to James’ shoulder. “Don’t worry James, you Potter’s are in the protection of Slytherin’s now; we protect our own.”

And whether or not James particularly liked Barty, if there was one thing he knew to be true; no one would be able to mess with you with the likes of him around.

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses

☆word count: 1.1k

☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.

They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.

“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.

“What?” he lets out.

“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.

“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”

Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.

But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.

“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”

Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?

“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.

“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”

“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”

Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.

So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.

Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.

His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.

Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.

Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone. 

You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.

You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.

“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.

It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.

“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.

His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.

Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.

You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.

“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.

You are… Taehyung’s sister.

You’re Y/n.

His best friend’s little sister.

The one thing Jungkook can’t have.

It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs. 

“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.

And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.

Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.

You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.

“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.

Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.

“Yes, please!”

Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.

Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.

“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”

And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.

How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted? 

He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

☆☆☆☆☆

Chapter one coming on May 10th, 2024!

What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

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[charliemwrites]

Three to Flee

Commission from the very sweet @ignoreprotocol

Someone leaves the door open and the pets get out.

Content Warning: Established kidnapping situation, unhealthy relationships, collaring

Author's Note: This does not mean Keeper/Kept is back. As far as I'm concerned, that story is finished, but this was a special case.

Shockingly, it’s not Feral that brings it up first.

The girls are having a little picnic at the edge of Johnny and Shy Thing’s yard, shaded by the tall trees. The men are chatting on the porch, sharing cigars and whiskey, far from earshot. Good behavior has earned them this bit of privacy, and so far, they’ve just used it to exchange keeper notes and offer bedroom advice.

“I can’t believe you don’t even have a fence,” Good Girl muses, glancing at the forest beyond. Her own yard is well fortified. It’s not just the sturdy, unclimbable fence, but also the monitors and floodlights connected to it.

Shy Thing sheepishly mentions a failed escape attempt several months earlier, a mad dash through the woods that ended with her dirty and disciplined. That prompts Good Girl to confess her own ill-fated getaway, a midnight attempt at sneaking out that resulted in a bruised ass.

Feral listens with her head cocked, nibbling at her apple slices. When their eyes turn to her, she shrugs.

“I haven’t tried to leave in a while,” she admits, “but I don’t think it would go well.”

Good Girl frowns. “How do you know if you haven’t tried?”

Feral snorts. “You’ve met Simon, haven’t you?”

All eyes turn to the boys on the porch. And there’s Simon, watching. Feral makes a rude gesture his way and they can see his shoulders shaking with a chuckle.

“Besides… it’s not so bad,” she muses. “Most of the time.”

Good Girl sits back, expression twisting. “I don’t want it to be ‘not so bad,’ I want it to be good. And I want it that way all the time.”

Shy Thing shifts. “What’s so wrong with John…?”

Good Girl huffs and begins picking at threads in the blanket. “He’s… fine. I mean, he would be if I could just leave. Don’t you miss being free?”

Feral hums.

“I… I miss going to the store when I wanted… or just… walking around town,” Shy Thing admits slowly. “I miss coffee shops and parks.”

Good Girl groans in agreement. “I miss the internet. It’s like being a fucking teenager again, having all my activity monitored.”

With a little more momentum now, Shy Things continues, “I haven’t been alone in months. Just… by myself. Doing whatever I want.”

“And not having rules,” Good Girl adds, sipping at the mojito John put in a little travel cup for her. “Fucking… sick of having a bedtime and chores and a fucking collar. Aren’t you sick of it?”

It’s directed at both of them, but Shy Thing nods, hands fidgeting.

“It gets to be a lot sometimes,” she mumbles, “I think I warmed up to Johnny out of pure exhaustion.”

Good Girl huffs again, worked into a proper fuss now. “And they’re so smug about it. Like we’re just these good, trained pets.”

Feral pipes up, “We could leave together.”

Both girls swivel to her with varying degrees of shock, hope, and disbelief.

“You said you didn’t think you could get past Simon,” Good Girl says.

Feral snorts and stretches out on her stomach in a mottled patch of sunlight creeping through the leaves.

“Yeah, I couldn’t on my own,” she explains, “but between the three of us…”

It’s uncomfortably simple when it happens. They just need to wait until the next big mission.

All three of them beg (or in Feral’s case, demand) to spend that time together while the keepers are away. It’s not unusual for the creatures to meet up when one or more of the men are gone. With all three off on a mission this time, they sniffle about being lonely and wanting company. That their houses feel too big and empty, that cooking for one is depressing.

Johnny caves instantly; John agrees on the stipulation that Good Girl is on her best behavior before he leaves. Simon, of course, is a foregone conclusion.

They go to Simon’s house. It’s the safest of the three homes and has the most space. Not to mention the girls will have some sort of access to the outside with the enclosed sunporch.

On the day of the mission, Good Girl and Shy Thing show up with fully packed bags, ready for their extended “sleepover” with Feral. The pets see their boys off, behave as normal for the cameras until Shy Thing gets the “heading out” message from Johnny. That’s the greenlight.

Feral has her own bag of things that she packs quickly and expertly. They fill a fourth bag with nonperishable provisions, just in case. Each of them has cash that they filched last minute from their keepers’ wallets – knowing they wouldn’t check them just before a classified mission.

The girls know it’ll be a day or two before anyone checks on them. Even Kyle is away with the team this time.

And then it all comes down to walking out the door.

The front door is, of course, locked. All the windows have alarms on them, and so does the garage door. But the sunporch…

“He didn’t lock the door,” Feral realizes as it swings open. And the alarm only engages when it’s locked.

All three of them take a single step out into the open air. And stop. Stare at each other a little moon-eyed.

They just left.

They stride at a quick clip around the side of the house and down the road. It’ll be an hour-long walk into town, but they have thick coats and each other for company. They chatter as they follow the pavement, just within the tree line out of caution. Pretend its giddy celebration at their escape and not a distraction from the creeping mix of dread and uncertainty beginning to simmer within each of them.

When they reach town, they blend into the crowds, weaving through the streets until they find a low-end hotel. It won’t be anything fancy, but at least it seems clean enough. Good Girl does all the talking with the receptionist (also a lady, thank god) since Feral and Shy Thing are jittery from so many people. They get a one-bed room with easy access to the fire exit.

 It’s only after they’re inside that reality sinks its claws in.

They’re free. For the first time in months, they’re outside with no one standing behind their shoulders or holding their arms. No one to appease, nothing to behave for.

And Shy Thing throws up in the toilet.

“This is scary,” she wheezes, eyes watering. “I’m scared. I want—”

Though she stops, the other two know what the end of that sentence was. Good Girl rubs her back.

“Don’t worry, they’re not going to find us,” she soothes like she doesn’t know why Shy Thing is really scared.

Neither Shy Thing nor Feral reply. The answer hangs in the air, unspoken. We want them to.

Feral, feeling restless, goes back into the main room and begins rummaging through her bag.

“What are you doing?” Good Girl asks, giving Shy Thing privacy to clean up.

“Looking for something to cut that off with.” Feral nods to Good Girl’s collar. “It’s probably chipped or something. We should have taken it off at home.”

She stops as the blood drains from her fellow creature’s face. They stare at each other across the tiny motel room, the weight of their successful plan pressing heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“I…” Good Girl rasps, “I…”

“You don’t want to.”

Her eyes well with tears. “No.”

Feral drops her bag and crumples to the ground, tugging her knees up to her chest.

“Why don’t I want to?” Good Girl whispers, curling her arms around herself. “This… this was my idea. I complain all the time. Why do I miss him already?”

Shy Thing appears in the doorway, sniffling. “I-I don’t know if I can do this. I can’t imagine life without Johnny. I… I don’t know if I want to have a life without Johnny.”

And Feral, still on the floor and trembling all over, just looks at them with huge tears running down her face.

Needless to say, when three rather miffed keepers in full combat gear throw the door open at 3am, they are not expecting armfuls of distraught creatures sobbing into their chests.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Three

Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)

Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on

You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…

Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.

The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.

When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.

You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.

"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"

It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.

They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.

The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.

The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.

Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.

By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.

Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.

Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...

Yeah.

They could sort it themselves.

You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.

It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.

You were alone.

For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.

For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.

You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.

It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.

You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.

So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.

With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.

You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.

For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.

You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.

It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.

You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.

You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.

Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.

Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.

You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.

You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.

You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.

Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.

"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.

"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.

They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.

"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."

"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"

"It always was one."

"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."

"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."

"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."

"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."

"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."

"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."

"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.

"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.

"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested

"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.

"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."

You returned her smile. "I know."

You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.

Shit.

You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”

“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”

[taestefully-in-luv]

Summer Heat

Summary: You run into your ex Taehyung at a bar and go home with him just to keep hanging out. But perhaps Taehyung wants more. And so do you.

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: exes au, exes to lovers, fluff, smut. 

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, dialogue heavy, communication, fingering, mention of oral, unprotected sex.

Notes: An exes to lovers Taehyung drabble request!!!! sorry it took so long...hope you enjoy anon! (and whoever else hehe)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why did we break up?”

Did he ask that? Or did you? You aren’t sure who asked that. You just know that it’s been asked by one of you. The question floats in the air, the words growing bigger until they pop next to your ear. Your stomach stirs uncomfortably when the words echo a little, and finally, you realize it sounds a lot like your voice. You gulp.

“You don’t know?” Taehyung leans against the door frame, wood creaking before his arms cross over his chest. “If you don’t know then I definitely don’t know.” He suddenly smiles.

You’re wondering how you two ended up in his guest bedroom at his house. How you find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, a towel neatly folded in your lap as you wait for Taehyung to leave the room so you can shower. You glance at the dresser where his clothes lay on top, ready for you to borrow. Wearing his clothes is… 

“Sorry.” You look down, “I shouldn’t have asked honestly.”

“Why not?” His voice is teasing.

You look up again, “Because we spent the whole night talking about how the past is the past and I don’t know, it just felt nice to hang out. I don’t want to ruin any,” You motion your hands in the space between you, “Like…vibe we got going on.”

Taehyung laughs, his back relaxing more against the wall. “It has been fun, right? Who would have thought I’d run into you tonight.” 

“I can’t believe its six in the morning.” You glance towards the window, a dark blue sky beginning to light up. “Thanks again for letting me crash here.”

“I’m the one who insisted we stay up.” Taehyung stretches his neck, a small smile still on his face. “We had, what was it? 5? 6 years to catch up on?” 

“Something like that.” You smile back, shrugging a little. “Lucky tomorrow is Saturday and we don’t have to work.”

Taehyung gazes at you, the softness in his eyes hard to miss. “I think I would have stayed up no matter the day of the week.”

Your stomach tightens, “Oh yeah?”

“So why did we break up?”

He asks this time. The question now echoing in his voice.

“I don’t know really.” You answer, “We weren’t ready?”

Taehyung separates his back from the door frame, his legs taking him to the end of the bed where he sits next to you. “We were young?”

“And not ready.” You emphasize this time. “Right person, wrong time.”

“So are you going to let me know when it’s the right time?” Taehyung asks you, his voice quieter as he looks ahead. “Because who knows, maybe it’s still right person.” His eyes slide towards you, curiosity sitting in them. 

You can’t help but quietly gasp to yourself, his curious eyes sharpening the more he gazes at you. You’ve been wondering all night. You’ve been wondering if there’s still something between you, especially because something electric has been bringing you closer the past few hours. But you didn’t know if it was your imagination. 

Taehyung’s gaze drops down to your hand that rests against the mattress. His eyes trail up your bare arm and it feels as if his fingertips are grazing your skin. 

“You think we’re still a good match?” You breathe out your words, your eyes falling to Taehyung’s bottom lip. “Or do your interests only lie in getting laid tonight?”

Taehyung’s eyes grow round, shocked at first before he chuckles, “Can it be both?”

You bite back another smile. “Maybe.”

It’s been five and half years since you and Taehyung called things off—well, since you called things off. In your eyes, it really was right person, wrong time. You aren’t sure if Taehyung agreed at that time because you didn’t really give him the chance to. That still stings a little. Probably more for him than you but seeing how lighthearted he’s been all night, you guess he’s over it.

Are you over it?

You kind of have to be.

“I remember you being a really good kisser.” Taehyung’s fingers crawl over to yours, his skin warm as he subtly touches you. 

You bite down onto your bottom lip, another smile forming. “So this is about getting laid tonight.”

“Not at all. But maybe a part of it.” Taehyung taps his fingers before weaving them through yours. Then he pulls back. “But if you don’t want to do anything…”

“Who said that?” You find his dark eyes, “I might just be teasing you.”

“You’ve always loved teasing me.”

“Maybe I still do?”

“So, some things haven’t changed.” He teases back, shaking his dark hair from his eyes. “I wouldn’t mind if some things were still the same. There’s some things I’m hoping are very different though.”

“Like what?” You can’t help but ask, your hand sliding closer to his again. 

“One, I hope you stopped being such a picky eater. And two, you let me have an opinion about us.”

You feel that sting. It shouldn’t be you who feels it but you do. “Us?”

“Yeah.” He hums, his fingers suddenly between yours again. He leans closer to you, “I want to decide things too.”

“Like what?”

“Like,” Taehyung naturally grows closer to you, his body suddenly pushing up against your side when he leans down and presses his lips against your bare shoulder. “If I should be in your life or not.”

You slowly close your eyes when you feel his warm breath before he places a kiss on your shoulder. Then another. And another.

He continues, “Last time, you decided without me. This time I want a say.” Another kiss.

You feel your stomach turn upside down, his lips confusing you while his words make you feel guilty. 

“Taehyung.” You say his name, your voice uncontrollably insecure. “Are we talking about this now?”

Another kiss. “No.”

You open your eyes, your back straightening when you feel his arm wrap around your waist. It feels good and familiar. Yet you aren’t sure how to react.

“Is it crazy to say I’ve missed you?” Taehyung sighs out, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “It is, isn’t it? I shouldn’t have thought about you so much in these last few years.”

“Did you?”

“Yes.”

Your stomach flops again, but this time you feel intrigued. “What did you miss? Me? Or my lips? My mouth? My—”

“—Can’t I say everything?” Taehyung lifts himself, his eyes urging you to look at him. He stays close. “I missed your overthinking too, believe it or not.”

Your lips curl at the thought, his teasing working. “Oh yeah?”

“But I missed your hugs the most. When we hugged earlier…I swear I wanted to give you me right then and there.”

“Your vodka sodas make you chatty, don’t they?”

“Oh yeah.” He chuckles, “You aren’t used to it, right?”

“Considering you didn’t drink when I knew you, no. But it was fun drinking with you tonight.”

“You got kind of chatty too.” Taehyung decides to create space between you both, his body suddenly laying back on the bed. “Never been in love with anyone else since me?” He sounds proud. “Feels like that should have taken longer to admit—”

You hit his thigh with your fist, embarrassment hot on your neck. “Shut up, I didn’t think it was a big deal. Also, it’s the truth and I can’t change it.” 

You’re turned to eye him, but you quickly look away before laying down yourself. You keep your hands together, resting on top of your stomach.

“I’m not sure I’ve really been in love either. Maybe. Maybe not.” Taehyung tells you. “I’ve definitely thought about you over the years though.”

“Like what?”

“Your mouth—”

You hit his thigh again.

He laughs this time, “Okay, okay. Like for example, I saw someone eating skittles a few weeks ago and it reminded me of you. How you eat them all except the purple ones.”

“I still don’t eat the purple ones.”

“Great.” Taehyung huffs out dramatically, “You’re still picky.” He turns his head towards you and you do the same, meeting his eyes. Your stomach flops again when he smirks at you. “Somehow I missed that, too.”

“Liar,” You can’t help but laugh. “You—”

“We still click, you know?” Taehyung cuts you off, his gaze sharp again. “I’d like to hang out again. But not as friends or anything…as…I don’t know,” He turns his head, eyes on the ceiling while he smiles sheepishly. “I want to see if we can make this work. Possibly.”

“Vodka sodas make you so loose-lipped.”

“Thank God, too. I’m saying all the things I want to say so I’m thankful for it.”

“Well….” You turn your body towards him, lifting yourself on you elbow, “What else do you want to say?”

“You’re very pretty. And I want to kiss you.” Taehyung mirrors his body to yours. He looks confident as usual but you see the nerves in his eyes. “I’m not kissing anyone else at the moment, if you’re worried about that.”

“I wasn’t.” You weren’t. 

Taehyung has never been known for being a player, or messing with more than one girl at a time. If he’s showing interest in you then you know you’re the only one.

“I’ve been single for like 8 months already.” He tells you, “So I’m clean, too.” 

“I…yeah, it’s been a little while for me too.” You glance towards the open door, “But also, you sound real hopeful this is going to go in your favor.”

“Please.” He playfully rolls his eyes. “I know the way you’ve been looking at me all night. Catching up has been nice but there’s more going on here, right?”

He’s right.

“No.” 

“Now you’re the liar,” Taehyung smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “But like I said, we don’t have to do anything. But I still want to see you again.”

You’re both sat up on your elbows, the distance small between you before you decide to be brave.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask.

Taehyung blinks at you for a moment, his dark eyes surprised. 

“Just a kiss.” You assure him, your lips curling into a smirk. “One kiss.”

Taehyung holds his breath, seconds that feel like minutes pass. A small laugh finally leaves his mouth and his eyes fall to the bed. “Why am I suddenly nervous?” He admits. “As if I forgot how to kiss.”

“You were so confident earlier?” You tease him but you were positive you saw the nerves in his eyes and you were right. 

“I think the vodka sodas helped and they’ve worn off at this exact moment.”

“How convenient.”

“It really is, isn’t it?” 

You stare at Taehyung, his eyes going from yours to the mattress every few seconds before the strap of your tank top slides off your shoulder and his eyes glue to that extra inch of skin. It was a hot summer night, and a white tank top with some shorts is all the night called for.

You didn’t think you would run into Taehyung at a bar neither of you have been to. A night out with a couple of friends that happily ditched you to catch up with your ex. 

“Why did we break up for real, y/n?” Taehyung’s eyes are back on yours. “I know but sometimes I doubt and question it.” 

“Still?” 

“You expect me not to?” He laughs a little but his voice is now the one that sounds uncontrollably insecure. “I was in love with you for so many years of my life. You were my best friend…”

You feel a sharp poke in your heart. 

“I know.” You decide to sit up, your body slumping over a little. “I’m sorry.”

And you are. You’ve wanted to apologize for years. 

“I know you’ve been sorry since the day we broke up.” Taehyung sits up too, his side pushed up against yours. Suddenly space isn’t necessary. “Don’t feel bad. I just want to hear you confirm your reason.”

You glance at Taehyung, eyes studying him. “I got scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That I didn’t know myself yet. That it would have been better if we were older…more mature. I should have just talked to you. But I thought you’d agree. I just…” You stop, ripping your eyes away from him. “Wanted to make it easier for both of us at that time.”

“Okay.” Taehyung nods to himself. “It wasn’t because you stopped loving me?”

“No.” You don’t find the courage to look at him yet. “I still loved you.”

Taehyung bumps into your shoulder with his and you hear the lightness in his voice again. “We’re older? More mature? You think we could look at one another the way we did before?”

You straighten your back again. “You really want to try this again?”

“I really want to kiss you at the least.” He sounds teasing once more. “But yeah, I’d love to continue getting to know you and see where this might lead.”

“I offered to kiss you already but you chickened out.” You bump into his shoulder now. 

“I know.” He laughs, “But turns out I did want to have the conversation now. Kind of want to kiss you even more now because of it.”

“Then kiss me now, if you want.”

You’re older now. More mature now.

Yet you’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, towel still folded in your lap, eyes on the floor and nerves surrounding you both.

Taehyung’s breath leaves his mouth in a warm puff and you feel it glide over your bare thighs. His nerves make you brave. You grasp the towel in your hands before placing it next to you and you turn your head towards the man you used to love. 

He mirrors you, eyes still unsure. 

“You’re cute.” You murmur. “And—”

Taehyung leans in closer, his eyes stuck on your lips. “It’s okay, right?”

You nod.

The warm breath you felt on your thighs now lingers over your lips. It makes you stop breathing.

He comes closer, his hand softly landing on your lower back, fingers slowly digging into your tank top as he grows closer and finally, you feel the skin of his lips touch yours in a kiss that becomes firmer the longer he stays. His kiss is so familiar that it will haunt you later. 

Taehyung detaches for only a moment, catching his breath before he leans in again more confidently and you finally give him a response. Your lips slowly moving over his as you kiss him back, your hands sliding up his chest. So familiar. His tongue pokes out and you open your mouth just the slightest to grant his wish. You taste him now, and it’s also hauntingly familiar.

You feel your lower belly swirling and swirling, a tension growing between your legs and it makes you ache. You wish a few kisses didn’t make you this desperate already but when Taehyung feels your fingers slide up into his hair, he knows you desire more. 

His tongue explores more freely and you moan into his mouth, the sound quiet and soft but it creates a stirring in Taehyung’s pants. He can feel himself grow harder. So, he kisses you harder. 

You break away for a moment, lips wet and tingly. “You have a condom?”

“Already?” He asks, breathless. “Let me at least eat you out first.”

“I haven’t showered yet.” Your eyes slide to the side, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“I don’t care.” 

“I care.”

His hands go to your shorts, fingers fiddling with the button. “Fingers?”

You think about it for a second, thighs squeezing together at the idea. “Okay.”

And his fingers are quick to undo the button on your shorts, and he pulls down the zipper. You quickly wiggle out of them, kicking them off of you, while they land somewhere on the floor.

“Cute underwear.” He tickles the skin above the band with his fingers, before they slide lower and you gasp. He begins rubbing them over where you ache. Your panties grow damper and damper, making it easy for him to move your underwear to the side, and his fingers dive into your wetness. 

“Ah, Taehyung…” You become tense. Teeth digging into your bottom lip. “I—”

His fingers swirl over your clit, making you sigh out in content. They play here before he uses his middle finger to dive where you really want him. Finger massaging your entrance, before he adds another. Entering you, making you immediately relax once the moment you’ve been anticipating is over. He works to stretch you out, his eyes focused on yours, his tongue wetting his lips as he watches how you start to fall into a daze.

His fingers feel so good. They’re long and reaching the right places. He curls them, making you whine, head falling to his shoulder and he chuckles.

“Feel good?” He whispers, fingers working harder and all you hear is how they fuck into you.

You nod against his shoulder, a breathy laugh leaving your lips. 

“I want you…” You admit, “Now.”

His fingers stop moving, his head suddenly nodding quickly and he slides them out. “Yeah.”

Taehyung brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them proudly and you don’t have it in you to tell him to stop. He wanted your familiar flavor. So, it can haunt him later too. 

You stand, eyes on him as you take your tank top off. He stands too, helping you take off your bra and his eyes are glued to your chest, clouding over with lust. You reach for the bottom of his shirt and he helps you take it off his body. Shorts and boxers are next. You stare at his cock, the head of it throbbing and you feel your mouth water. Another time, you tell yourself. 

You finally slip off your underwear and you stand here, gazing at one another and you both become dizzy. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He tells you, hands reaching for your hips and he guides you to the bed again, laying you down. “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing.”

“Me too.” You tell him, breathless and heated. 

Taehyung crawls over your body and you feel how he moves his cock to enter you, moving slowly until he’s snug between your legs. You both sigh. Your walls tightening around him. He feels so good. And so familiar. He pushes himself further into you, your legs wrapping around his waist until you gasp to yourself, eyes shutting in contentment. 

“You feel…” You can’t finish your sentence.

“Yeah.” He agrees, sliding out of you before thrusting back in. He repeats this motion a few, slow times. Letting his cock get soaked and pulled into your sweet core. He can’t remember the last time he felt this entranced. Maybe it was with you. 

He starts fucking into you, the repeated motions are smooth and calculated. He’s trying his best to fuck you at the angle that is going to make you whimper. And he finally finds it. He moans into your neck, his hot breath making your skin moist. He starts kissing your throat. 

You feel yourself growing tighter and tighter the more he firmly pushes in. You’re going to cum. 

Taehyung starts thrusting faster, his kisses growing sloppy and he forces himself to slow down, his body trembling above yours. Oh, he’s really close.

“You’re so pretty…” He moans, his thrusts getting harder. “I fucking missed you, your pussy…everything.”

“Taehyung…” You wrap your arms around him, nails clawing at his back. “Fuck, just like that…I’ll cum.”

“Yeah. I know.” He smirks against your neck before he lifts his head and locks eyes with you. “Let’s cum together, y/n. Fuck,” His pace grows faster and you feel your insides crumble. He feels too good. 

“I’m gonna—” You choke on air when he thrusts particularly hard, pushing into you so deep it makes your stomach tighten. He fucks you so deep you wonder how you could go without this any longer. 

“y/n.” He chants your name, head falling into your neck again, whining against your skin and that’s all it takes for the band inside you to snap. You feel warmth gushing around his cock, dribbling out of you as you cum all around him and his hips thrust forward a few more times before he releases every drop of cum he can offer inside you. 

Your body becomes limp, legs falling from his waist as you catch your breath, silently laughing as the euphoria continues to overtake you. Taehyung laughs too, breathing heavily above you, his eyes shining with happiness. You can’t miss it. 

“We forgot the condom.” He tells you.

“I know.” You bite your lip, hiding another smile. You aren’t worried since you’re on birth control. “Maybe you can shower with me?”

He leans down to kiss you, smile all over his face. “Okay, and then I’m eating you out.”

[rinhaler]

Don’t You Love It When I Come Around?

Your relationship with him is so toxic. But no matter how hard you try to end things, he always worms his way back between your legs.

✧˖*°࿐: 18+ only, no minors.    ✧. ┊ takuma ino x f!reader

Genre: porn! with a plot! Notes: in january i told u guys to send ino prompts and i would write my favourite and here it is, I'll add the ask below ! Warnings: 18+, fem!reader, dubcon (he's high), toxic relationship, exes to lovers?, rich boy!ino, dacryphilia, pussy eating ♡, light nipple play, vaginal sex, love making ♡, drool ♡, praise, slight orgasm denial, scratching, creampie ♡, manipulation, calls your pussy she/her, pet names (princess, baby/babe, gorgeous etc.) Words: 4.6k

Don’t You Love It When I Come Around?

He loves you.

He wouldn’t keep coming back to you with such urgency and wanton if he didn’t love you so ardently. But you ended things, and for the first time there was some finality to the breakup. You’re weak with your will and conviction, usually. You can’t take it anymore, you can’t.

Being second best to every other thing is his life is too hard.

His friends, his family.

Drugs.

You want to be his top priority, but you never will be. It weighs heavy in your heart whenever you’re with him, you don’t feel the type of love you want to feel from him. The kind where you know he’d kiss the ground you walk on and worship your very existence.

Fairy tale love, romance movie love.

He isn’t capable. And it’s taken you too long to realise it.

And usually, you crumble when he begs. His pleas and promises to change always sway you into believing him, despite knowing the truth that he’ll never change for you. He thinks money carries the same weight as love. He thinks his daddy’s credit card is the answer to all of his problems.

He wants to believe you can be bought.

He truly believes that he can buy your subservience with the same unearned money he uses to pay his dealer in fat wads of cash.

The day you met his dealer is the day you think things really began to fall apart between you. He wouldn’t refrain from making lewd comments about you, a fact that has stopped you from going with him to pick up since that first encounter. Your boyfriend didn’t chastise him, no. Instead, he played along. Joking that he’d be willing to share during your most intimate moments or even give you up completely to use as a payment instead of actually paying.

You broke up with him that night, leaving him alone with his friend. He didn’t even bother chasing after you to apologise. He didn’t care enough to check if you were okay, either. It hurt you to think that he was laughing it off with Sukuna, imagining him so nonchalant and uncaring broke your heart.

And you’re lucky you didn’t have to see that you were exactly right.

You can’t even remember why you forgave him that time, it should have been the final straw. He came over, sneaking into your window after your parents turned in for the night. It’s like he’d been waiting for all of the lights to go out. He lifted it, effortlessly, before he stepped inside. He hushed your protests and panic as you worried your parents would hear and before you knew it, he was your boyfriend again.

You jolt from your thoughts as you hear a struggle to your left. Your eyes linger on the window as you notice Takuma try his hardest to lift it open. He looks up and sees you staring, and you recognise something akin to fear sprawled across his pretty face.

He can’t remember the last time you locked the window.

“Baby, please.” he whispers. You shush him, determined to be strong as you approach the window and look at him sternly.

It’s the first time in over a week since you’ve laid eyes on each other, it should have been harder than it was. But you’ve had plenty of practice from when he goes on drink and drug infused benders and doesn’t even bother to send a measly text to let you know he’s alive.

Your fists clench tightly as you hold your parted curtains, though your will begins to dissipate as you see his soft brown stare up at you so pathetically. It feels like love. Maybe one more chance wouldn’t—

“Let me in, baby, ‘m so cold.” he tells you, squatting awkwardly on the roof as he tries to convince you to see things his way. Your blood begins to boil again as you remember how fucking entitled is. Entitled in life and entitled to you. Not this time. “I think it’s gonna—” the metal curtain pole hisses as you abruptly shut them and shut him out of your life for good.

“Go home, Takuma…” you sigh, your own purposiveness decaying as your body seems to crave him, you want to help him, despite knowing you’re being manipulated.

“Oh come on. Don’t do this, princess. It’s starting to rain!” he tells you.

You can’t listen to him. You grab your headphones from your desk and put them over your ears. You quickly scroll through your music library until you find your feel-good playlist and turn the volume to max. Sure you might go deaf in a few years, but it’s better than listening to him do all he can to get you to let him in.

The paranoia of not knowing what he’s doing or saying out there pricks at your skin like needles. Your senses are sharp despite cancelling one of them out. You begin to hear creaks of the window and calls of your name you’re certain you can’t be hearing. Your dad will come to berate you and him if he gets too rowdy. He wouldn’t risk it.

INO: Gonna start singing if you don’t let me in 💕

You learn forward in your seat as you read his message. He’s bluffing, he has to be. And yet, it scares you enough to pull your headphones down while your music continues to play through them. His knuckles are rapping against the window repeatedly without stopping as he waits for you to reply. He gives you a few minutes before the knocking stops, and while you hope he’s given up, you look down at your messages to see three dreaded dots appear.

INO: You’re so cute when you’re mad

INO: What song should I sing?

You freeze as you hear him hum, even over the sound of the rain pelting down against the roof shingles and the glass of your window. It’s a song you recognise instantly, the first song you danced to together when you met at a club two years ago.

“Come on baby, let me iiiiin~!” he speak-sings in tune with the beat and you know it’s only going to get worse. You try to hold strong, you do. The thought of giving him the satisfaction and ultimately the gateway to him winning you back makes your stomach churn, you don’t want to keep being this girl.

But you’ve always been weak when it comes to him.

The shriek of your curtains opening again puts a swift end to Takuma’s singing. His face lights up, and it makes you even angrier. He watches you intently as you unlock the window for him, but you step away to allow him the honour of opening it for himself.

“Shit baby, I’m soaked. Why didn’t you let me in sooner?” he asks, he wrings out his beanie on your bedroom carpet before tossing it aside completely. You roll your eyes as he shuts the window and begins to undress. “C’moooon, you’re not really giving me the silent treatment, are ya?”

You sigh and sit on your bed, carefully taking off your headphones and tucking them back into their protective casing. He barely even looks at you as you tuck your knees up to your chest and observe his every move.

“What do you want Takuma…” you pout. “I told you I don’t wanna see you anymore. Why are you here?” you ask.

He kisses his teeth, the sound makes your skin pinch together and you suddenly feel the harsh chill of the outside breaking in. He smiles at you, his sweet innocent face and warm brown eyes are almost enough to thaw you out.

“You didn’t really mean that, did ya?” he wonders. “Baby, I love you.” he kicks off his shoes and begins to undress. The audaciousness of him is never lost on you, but tonight he’s really something. He sits on the edge of your bed, his back facing you while he moves at a glacial pace.

He’s high. It’s obvious.

The sculptured muscles of his back flex and ripple as he takes off his socks, flinging them without a care in any direction before he stands up to look at you. You swallow, hard, as the buckle of his belt begins to clink before he pulls it out of the belt loops with one hand. Your eyes stay fixed on his as his arm extends and he lets it fall from his grip.

“Bet you’ve missed this dick, baby,” he smirks. “Can see it in your eyes. You’ve missed me.”

You roll your eyes despite his words hitting a nerve. His vision drops as he unbuttons his jeans, missing the way you squirm as you reposition yourself on the bed, tucking your knees further into your chest as you continue to stare while he takes off his clothes.

“Why do you play these games, princess? You know you always come back to me.”

“It’s not a game. I’m done with you, for real this time.” you protest. The way he bites his lip makes you angrier as he climbs on the bed with you, the mattress dipping as he slowly crawls towards you like he has so many times before.

He thinks, he knows everything you say it futile, regardless of how determined you are to not succumb to him for the umpteenth time.

“Take this off, gorgeous,” he demands as his fingers curl into the elastic waistband of your pleated skirt. You shake your head lightly, heart battering in your chest like a drum solo. He snarls, at that, like he hears your heart fighting against your weak defiance. “Suit yourself.” he mutters.

His hands wrap around your thighs and he drags you down the length of the mattress. It takes everything within you not to scream, the thought of being caught by your parents like this makes your whole body sear with heat.

“I’m—” you squeak, a little too loudly. You clear your throat and look at him, your eyes shaking with apprehension and anxiety. He wets his lips as he looks at you, waiting for you to continue. “I’m not fucking you. N-Not tonight. Not ever. Never again, Takuma… I m-mean it. We’re through!”

He sighs, a little pout forming on his lips as he crawls over your body. He cages you beneath him, looking down at you with a moue of dissatisfaction.

“What about a kiss baby? Can I have a kiss, just one?” he asks. His voice is soft and shallow. His honeyed eyes make you crumble as he stares at you with an intensity you’ve never felt from him before. Is it desperation? Is it panic that he’s really losing his grip on you? You can’t even look at him directly, each turn of your head causes him to angle his own so he can continue to stare you down.

And it works.

“Just a kiss.” you mumble, your whole body relaxes when he smiles. It’s such a sweet smile, the one that always adorned his gentle face when you first met. You’ve missed it, dearly.

Your eyes flutter closed as his lips land on yours. It’s chaste, quick, and leaves you wanting more.

“One more kiss, baby. Please?”

You nod, closing your eyes again. You startle when you feel the mattress shift dramatically. Words stay lodged in your throat as you see him on the ground, on his knees, looking up at you between your legs.

“No panties? Must’a known I was coming.” he grins. He flips up the material only slightly. His head disappears beneath the black pleats.

It’s pathetic, truly, the whimper that flees from you when he presses a delicate kiss to your clit. You cover your mouth with your hand, and you even surprise yourself when you feel tears roll down your cheeks.

“Can I kiss her again, princess? Wanna make out with her… do you want me to?” he wonders, repeating the same kiss again… again… and again.

“Y-Yes, Takuma please.” you moan. Your fingers card through his brunette locks, urging him closer to your heat. He complies, desperately. He slowly swirls his tongue over your swollen clit, humming contently as he encourages you to rest your legs over his shoulders.

The pleasure overwhelms you, and you allow yourself to lie comfortably against the mattress. Deep down you knew, you both knew, you were always going to end up like this.

You look between the valley of your breasts when you regain your stability. The shape of his head makes your own begin to spin as you see the material of your skirt move in tandem with his actions. The way he slurps and suckles on your flesh makes it all too clear, you’ll never be able to quit him. Not really, not when he’s so perfect when he’s like this.

Maybe he does love you, maybe all of the things he tells you when you shut him out for so long are indeed true. How else would he be able to ravage you with such vigour and passion? The only time you know him to have drive and patience is in moments like this.

He’s spoilt, but not with you.

He’s a giver, only for you.

Your back arches from the bed when the tip of his tongue targets a particularly sensitive spot between your folds. You moan, you whine, and it only encourages him more. He doesn’t stop when your thighs begin to clamp around his head. It’s more fuel to the fire, you have to smother any and all sounds that want to escape from your body with your hand.

And that, he sees as a challenge.

He holds under the bend of your knee and pushes it, so gently, towards your chest. And still, you feel like the air has been knocked from your lungs. Your skirt is forcibly moved by the action and his face is revealed once more. His eyes glitter and shimmer with expectance and desire as he sees your own face contort from the pleasure he’s forcing upon you.

His lips suction around your clit and he sucks like it’s his sole purpose on earth. Your eyes roll back, and you practically scream into your palm. His hand wanders purposefully to cup your breast. He squeezes experimentally, rubbing his thumb over the material of your top to tease your peaked nipple. The feeling of that is almost enough to make you unravel, your hips jerk at the contact, and he decides to take it further.

He breaches the edge of your crop top, desperate to feel your soft naked mound. Your eyes fill with water and spill consistently as he adds rolling your pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger to the intense amalgamation of pleasure.

“Ino… fuck,” you whisper pathetically, freeing your mouth momentarily to utter his name. To warn him. “I’m gonna cum.”

“… I know.” he mumbles before maintaining his efforts. His tongue swipes quickly over your clit, you whimper and your toes can’t help but curl as he doesn’t dare let up.

You grip the sheets below, desperate to hang onto something as you feel your body seconds from exploding. He shushes you between licks, drooling over your cunt as his jaw hangs low for you. You do all you can to keep quiet, but it’s a gargantuan task. Especially when you haven’t felt so good for so long, it’s near impossible.

Your legs begin to quiver as you cum. Your pussy gushes and coats his face further. And for once in his life, he isn’t ungrateful. He savours the taste and laps at your folds like a starving man. And after such a long time apart, that’s exactly what he is. He’s ravenous, he’s missed this. He’s missed you. And he’ll never not appreciate how delicious you are. And it’s all for him.

“Made such a pretty mess for me, baby,” he murmurs into your skin, repeatedly planting delicate kisses against your inner thighs. He doesn’t stop as he gets on top of you, showering your stomach in the same soft kisses. Each one infused with his desire for you. His urgency to force you to remember who you belong to and who you need.

Your legs spread beautifully for him, his throbbing cock rubs against your core, dampening the material of his underwear.

His eyes fixate on yours as he looks for permission to kiss you. And you give it, instantly, humming when his lips slot against yours. His tongue delves into your mouth, his hips begin to rut into you as you make out.

You run your fingers through his hair, interlocking your fingers to keep him close as you continue humping against each other. He breathes heavily as he breaks the kiss, staring down at you with a hurt look in his eye.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him quietly. It makes your blood run cold, the fear of wondering if he’s about to go back to the regular Takuma again. The one you’re all too familiar with, The one that always lets you down.

“… Don’t like it when you call me Ino, baby,” he tells you. It’s earnest, a twinge of disappointment laced in his words.

“All of your friends call you Ino, Ino.” you repeat. It makes your heart race to defy him, you seldom do. You’re the perfect girlfriend until you can’t take anymore, but this is different. You’ve never felt bold enough to do this, to attempt to rile him up.

Never.

“Stop that.” he growls, kissing you again. “You’re not my friend. You’re my girlfriend, alright? Say it. Please.”

“I t-told you… I don’t want you back. Only let you in so you wouldn’t wake my parents.”

He stops. He stands on his knee and looks down at you with a little frown, his lower lip almost jutting as he hears you. You can’t tell if he’s actually sad, or if it’s merely panic. “Do you mean that? You don’t want me back?”

You shake your head, despite it being the opposite of what you want. It’s almost as if you’ve been possessed.

“… So you wouldn’t care if I left right now? You don’t want to fuck?” he continues. You can barely look at him, you’ve never seen him like this before. He might actually be upset, he’s experiencing regret for the first time in his entire life.

“Well… if you wanna go, I won’t stop you Takuma.” you shrug, it comes a little too easily. It feels like a dream, or a nightmare to Takuma. He can’t help but stare as he realises he’s lost his control of you.

A hand rests on your knee, while the other carefully rubs the lower half of his face. He wants to ask again. And again. Is that really what you want? But he’s terrified to even think it, let alone say it. Because what if you are sure? He won’t know what to do, he’s never known you to be like this before. Maybe he took too long to come over this time, he got cocky. Assumptions and greed consumed him. He came back to you when he was ready, but he hadn’t accounted for the fact you might grow a backbone in that time.

He lowers himself again, your noses barely touching before he kisses the tip of it.

“You love me, I know you do baby,” he says, faux confidence lingering in his tone. Though you don’t notice, to you, he’s just confident. The sound of tender kisses littering your cheeks is the loudest sound in the room, even louder than his desperate whispers. “You gotta love me… because I love you. So much, baby, please forgive me.”

He doesn’t let up, like he’s transferring a love potion embedded from his lips to seep into your skin. You mewl at the sensation, never knowing him to be this affectionate before. You know why, the agonising realisation that he lost you has him resorting to this last ditch effort.

And you hate him, because it’s working.

“I’ll always love you more than anyone, y’know. I promise. I’ll be better this time…” he tells you, the same sorry line he’s told you so many times before. “Can I put it in, babe? Please… Please let me feel you close one more time, if ya really mean it.” he begs. He moves his lips to yours, hoping to silence you with a kiss to remember. There’s a hunger to it, a desperate craving that he can’t satiate.

He needs your help.

He needs you.

“L-Last time, okay? I mean it, Takuma, I won’t take you back.”

He stopped listening to you after he heard you agree, honestly. Reaching down to pull his boxers just enough for his cock to spring free. He moans, it’s akin to a whine as it slaps against his abdomen. He’s been hard since he got that first kiss from you, and tasting your slick made him ache for you.

He jerks himself a few times before he slips himself inside of your cunt. His cockhead resting carefully in your entrance. His body moves closer to yours as he sinks in further, you both moan in tandem as you stretch and swallow his cock oh so gloriously.

“S-See, baby? See how perfect I fit? ‘Cause you love me so much, and I love you.” he explains gently holding your jaw in his grip so he can force you to look at him. His hips begin to roll, but he can’t let you enjoy it. Your attempt to throw your head back in pleasure with your eyes scrunched closed is thwarted as his hips instantly slow. “You gotta say it. Say it back, princess.”

“I love you, Takuma…” you say, defeated. “You know I’ll always love y-you.”

“Yeah?” he smiles widely, moving his hips once more. “Always gonna be mine?”

“… always.” you nod.

He kisses you again, his body weight almost suffocating you as he rests on top of you. He fucks every ounce of passion and longing into you. He covers your mouth, sensing it’s too much. But he can’t stop. You don’t want him to, you’ve never felt so whole with him.

You’re too fucked out to notice how badly your bed is creaking. Even with your moans trapped behind Takuma’s palm, he’s sure your parents will know he’s here by now.

“Fuuuuck, you’re choking my fuckin’ dick, baby. Gonna make me cum too fast.” he tells you, kissing your forehead as he slams his hips into yours. “So tight for me… my p-perfect girl, aren’t ya?”

You nod desperately, clenching around him at his every word.

“Want you to cum for me… but,” he rests his forehead against yours, alternating his movements to slow and deep rather than hard and fast. It has you drooling against his palm, but he doesn’t mind. He likes you, loves you, when you’re his braindead princess. “I only make my girlfriend cum.”

Your eyes widen in horror as you realise what he’s trying to do. You wish you could say you regret letting him fuck you again. But it’s too good, you’re lost to it. You’re almost dumb enough to agree.

Almost.

He moves his hand and cups your face, imploring you to look him in his eyes and tell him you’re his again.

“I c-can’t,” you sniffle. “Hurts too much being—”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t say that, princess.” he interrupts, not wanting to hear your thought in full. “Don’t say things you don’t mean. You love me, yeah? Always gonna be my girl. Mine.”

And as if on command, you nod in acceptance. Because he’s right, you will always be his girl. Whether in an official capacity or not. Even the days you’re separated, he’s always on your mind. You worry that weeks, months or even years could pass without him and he’d still be on your mind.

A particular intense stroke inside of your gummy walls makes your body jolt and a heavy moan tears through your throat. He looks down, admiring where to two of you meet before searching your eyes.

“There, baby?” he asks, experimentally thrusting into the same spot. He grins when he hears you keen once again for him, prodding it again and again until your eyes spill over with tears from the blinding pleasure. “Theeeere she is, right there. Bet you wanna cum real bad, ‘cause I do.”

“I do!” you agree, cupping his face gently before kissing him. “I love you, Takuma, please don’t stop,” you whimper.

“I won’t baby, promise.” he assures you. It’s imperceptible, and he’s glad, you can’t see the relief washing over his entire body as he feels safe once again. You’re his, again. There’s nowhere else you should be but with him. “C-Can’t let my girl down, can I?” he grins.

And after everything. All of the hurt, all of the effort, all of the determination, you’re his again. All of that defiance was for nought. And yet, you’re smiling. Your hands helplessly grip his body, nails digging into his shoulder blades as you scratch, attempting to ground yourself.

His lips find yours, eager to silence himself as he brings you both closer and closer to your demise. His breaths are heavy, his nostrils flaring as he continues to pummel into you. Your kiss is sloppy, but perfect. The messy passion heightens your pleasure, somehow. His tongue finding your own reminds you that there’s no one in the world you’d rather be doing this with.

Every plunge of his length against your sweet spot feels like love. Pure, unadulterated, love. Everything you’ve ever wanted, ever needed, from Takuma this time.

And as you cum together, moaning into each other’s mouths, that feels deeper. He looks into your eyes as he fills you to the brim, your walls clench around him, desperate to keep him inside and milk him for all he’s worth. You never want this feeling to end, he’s the man of your dreams.

He kisses your neck as he continues to fuck himself inside of you, making sure to deposit every last drop of his love into you. He feels it too, it feels different to how it usually is.

Better, somehow.

The pecks of his lips slow as he ventures towards yours again. Each kiss is interpolated with ardour. He doesn’t want to risk stopping for fear of all of this coming undone. He doesn’t want you to see sense, again. Despite what you might think, he is in love. A love so intense he couldn’t begin to explain.

He eventually pulls away, bracing himself for what you might say.

But nothing comes.

He’s grinning from ear to ear because you don’t say a word. Not one. But your expression says it all. You look exhausted, but fulfilled. You look beautiful as bliss ravishes your drained form. However even without all that, he only needs to look into your eyes to see it.

You really are his girl again.

He can practically see the hearts shimmering in your irises. You’re looking up at him like you’ve fallen for that signature Takuma charm once again, but are you really so foolish? Even he is a little surprised.

He wants to do better, of course he does. And maybe this time he’ll really try. He doesn’t mean to let you down so often, it’s not like he wants to do it.

That’s just the type of guy he is.

The type to make promises he can’t keep.

© 2024 rinhaler

anon: okay but imagine ino sneaking in your bedroom every once in a while and fucking you into forgetting he's an absent boyfriend, he's always smoking with his friend (plug! sukuna *cough cough*) he's a trust fund baby, and the worst boyfriend ever but dick game is so good he has you thinking you can fix him, so every time you let him hit you are looking at him with heart eyes and it almosttt makes him want to do better

[tastesousweet]

Can we get a toxic!babydaddy Matt fic like I’m craving something about my man like it’s been days and I haven’t eaten

⭒ blurb : toxic!bd matt who . . .

toxic!babydaddy matt x poc!reader

warnings: toxic relationship, dad!matt (i understand if u don’t fw it), idk what else :P

mickey speaks: this is kinda different for me so ty for the req!! ik this is just a little headcannon set but i hope you luv this anon 💐

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . brings some girl he’s been “hanging out with” to your daughter’s third birthday party just to piss you off

he’d then get mad when you ignore him and his “friend” the entire party…

he’d come up to you as you watch your daughter play on the decorated playground from afar, “the fuck you bein’ petty for, y/n? i thought we were cool with seeing other people?”

“well i just think it’s rude, you didn’t tell me you were bringing anyone else. i don’t care who she is or what you two do it’s annoying from a planning perspective.”

“that’s my bad… you look good though,” he’d glance around for a second before coming behind you and hooking his arm on your neck.

he’d whisper in your ear while you both stare out at your lively daughter, “can’t believe she’s so big now… lookin’ just like her pretty mama.”

you’d roll your eyes and shoulder matt off of you, “matt, go fuck on the bitch you brought here. and stop saying shit like that to me.”

“jesus- watch your language there’s kids everywhere, y/n.”

you blankly stare at him and his cocky smirk that just aggravates you to pieces, “go awayyy, matt.” you whine out and pinch your eyes with a sigh.

and he laughs because everything’s a fucking joke to him.

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . your friends hate but you will always have a soft spot for, he is your daughter’s father after all

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . sends hundreds of roses to your doorstep for mother’s day

when you text him a picture of the ridiculous bouquets with a “????” he immediately facetimes you, “for the best mama in the whole world. you like ‘em?”

you shake your head and hide a smirk beneath your hand to scold him, “you do too much, matt.”

“uh huh i knew you’d say that…” he’d then ask to see his favorite girl, “now where’s my baby at?”

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can’t mind his business to save his life. he’s always asking you questions about your personal life; and you always shut him down

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . can sometimes be a little too desirable when he drops your daughter off at your place (dressed nicely, smelling good, eyes bright yet droopingly eye-fucking you, etc), leading you to invite him in for a glass of wine or two

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . you sometimes find in your bed again when you feel particularly lonely and nostalgic

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . loves the few times he gets to to wake up to his daughter pulling on his hand and you by his side, fast asleep

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . tends to start arguments from the smallest things to get you to talk to him longer than you need to

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . will always put effort into being a great father (which you respect) despite never putting that same effort into your relationship

TOXIC!BABYDADDY MATT WHO . . . makes sure you’ll never forget he loved you first and is connected to you far deeper than any other man ever could be

[digitalpup444]

omg HIIIII this is my first ever PUBLISHED work…i’ve always made like some sort of fan fic but just kept it to myself like a greedy little thing hehe but! i decided to share the nasty thoughts in my brain with everyone!!

mdni!

warnings; (rafe being an asshole, teasing, hard fucking, daddy kink, slapping, bimbo reader)

with the way the skies were looking, you knew your plan of going to the beach with rafe was out of the picture now. you huffed, pouting as you looked up at the sky out of the window in rafe’s room. “this isn’t fair!’ You whined, jutting your bottom lip out as you turned around to stomp out of his bedroom. in the office, rafe was working out some ‘business things’, as he put it, but you had no regard to that as you barged in.

“c’mon, man. I’m workin’ on something here.” he exclaimed, stressfully running a hand over his buzzed hair. you stomped your foot lightly, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s raining.” You grunted disapprovingly, eyebrows furrowed. rafe simply went over to the window to look outside, holding the curtains out of the way as he parted the blinds with his fingers. with an eyeroll, he turned back to you. “it’s not raining. The clouds are jus’ settin’ in. go play somewhere, kid,” he grumbled. “ain’t tellin you twice.”

“but i miss you. you promised me you would take me to the beach.” you whined some more, moping towards rafe and putting your head to his chest. “n’ now its gonna be all rainy an’ gross and we wont even get to have fun!” your eyes got watery and your lower lip trembled as you lifted your head up to look at your tall boyfriend.

“hey, enough of that,’ He lightly scolded, grabbing your jaw to get you to pay attention to his words. “you can pout and whine all you want, but i cant control the weather like you think i can, kid. you gonna behave for me while i work on this?’’ he asked, although regardless if you said yes, he knew you would be back on the topic of going to the beach.

with an attitude, you pulled away from his grip with an upset look. “hmph. fine. Whatever, i didn’t wan’ go to the beach anyways!” and with that, you sulked out of the office only causing Rafe to roll his eyes at your dramatic exit.

as you entered rafe’s bedroom yet again, you threw yourself down on his bed and screeched into his pillows and threw them off his bed, not too happy about how today was going for you. what you didnt know was that rafe was following you quietly, arms crossed at the doorway as he leaned against it while he watched your outburst.

you your head up, eyes falling onto him with a soft gasp. “I..-’ you started, only to be cut off from his stern voice. “enough of that, kid. you dont know what you’re gettin’ yourself into.” he tsked, stalking towards you and laying a firm yet gentle hand on your cheek. “thought you were gonna behave for me like a good girl? i must be a goddamn fool for believing you when you said that.” your eyes were big and doe like as you looked up at your boyfriend, pouting at him. “ i jus’ miss you, daddy...i need you.”

and with that, you had rafe wrapped around your little finger with just those words. he rubbed his thumb over the skin on your cheek as he bit his lip, fighting between the urge to go back to the office or to take care of his precious girl. “you need me that badly, hm?” he grinned, his hand snaking to the nape of your neck where he gripped your hair and pulled your head back to kiss you open mouthed.

you mewled into the kiss, pawing your hands at the belt of his pants as you struggled to unbuckled it. “aw, sweet girl can’t even use her brain to figure out how to unbuckle my belt.” he tsked, pushing you face down on the bed with your ass hanging off. “c’mon, you know the drill.” he smacked your ass before pulling down the slutty pink skirt you were wearing.

“ohh, no panties? god, you were just begging for me to have my way with you,” he chuckled. “just a slutty little brat, always throwing tantrums to get her way,” rafe teased as he unbuckled his belt and slid his pants and boxers down. “always cryin’ for something, nothing i give is good enough for you.” he lined himself up with your dripping hole before pushing on without warning, leaving you gasping and gripping at the sheets.

“that’s it..i know you can take it, kid.” he grunted into your ear as he leaned over you, smacking the side of your hip. “p-please…!” you whined, begging for him to move. it was excruciating the way he stayed there for a few minutes before pounding into you, leaving you a babbling and whining mess.

“just needed your daddy’s cock in you to shut you up, yeah? answer me.” rafe commanded through clenched teeth as he held onto your hips to hit every inch inside of you.

“y-yes! only act out cuz i want you!” you cried out, pushing your ass into him, wanting to feel him go deeper. the tip of his cock was kissing your cervix causing you to mewl and grip at nothing. “shut your goddamn whore mouth,” he growled, slapping a hand over your mouth to muffle the moans. “f-fuck..” the man cursed as he felt himself coming closer with each thrust.

your thighs trembled from the pleasure, eyes fluttering shut every time he hit that special spot he knew all too well. you had drool all over your chin once Rafe removed his hand from your mouth. “you gonna cum? yeah, i know you are. fuckin’ little whore was already at the edge as soon as i pulled my pants down.” he scoffed, letting out another groan. “inside, wan’ you inside!” you whimpered out, hand sliding down between your body and the mattress to play with your clit.

“please, m’ so close..please don’t stop, daddy!” you cried out, eyes watering with tears. with a swift movement, rafe pulled out of you to cum on your back and leave you wanting more. “did you really think for a fucking second i would let you cum after the little stunt you pulled? hm?” he tugged your head back with your hair, slapping your cheek lightly. “brats dont get to cum.” he stated as he fixed his pants, buckling them and going off to the office to leave you pouting.

[stonerhog]

man I can’t believe how fucking much I ate today. that whole cake went down soooo easy after those two footlongs, I didn’t expect to be able to eat it that soon after feeling so full, but it just went by the spoonful and before I knew it, it was all gone

I even weighed 150kg tonight, for the first time ever!! I felt so heavy and dense and full and I can’t wait to be 150kg all the time 🥵🥵🥵🥵

do you think I look big walking around my apartment? because I felt really, really fucking big

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Brand New One Shot - Second Preview

I cooked a little :3c

Warning for masturbation!

You made your way up to his tower, replaying the scene in the lobby over and over in your head. Things were going well, weren’t they? He seemed so apologetic when you told him how you felt. And then he just…disappeared like he always does. You really didn’t mean to push the issue, but perhaps you came on a little strong. Plus your rescue of him was a little more than awkward. Not that you minded the closeness, even if it was fleeting. The picture of his head resting against your chest flashed in your mind repeatedly. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks once more as you were now mere steps from Lucifer’s door.

Focus, you mentally scolded yourself, can’t think about that. It was an accident! It won’t happen again so just…focus. No wonder he ran!

You stood in front of his door now, your knees somehow weaker than they were a moment ago. Those mental images really didn’t help at all. With a deep inhale, you went to knock, but you stopped short when you heard something from beyond the door. You heard your name.

What?, you thought, How…How did he know I was here? Lucifer didn’t sound angry fortunately, but the inflection in his voice made him sound almost sad. And…breathless? You cracked open the door slowly, a little embarrassed at being caught. You went to open your mouth to apologize for the intrusion, but not even a whisper left your lips. Because what you saw in that room left you completely and utterly frozen where you stood.

Lucifer, the great ruler of Hell, was propped up against the obscene amount of pillows on his bed with his pants pooled at his ankles, his very much erect dick in his hand. His eyes were shut, he hadn’t seen you catch him in this extremely vulnerable state.

Run, run, run, RUN! your mind screamed. Everything in your brain was telling you to shut that door and get out of there as fast as you could. But your body refused to react, you remained motionless. You were completely entranced by the scene before you. You watched as Lucifer stroked his cock, mumbling a number of curse words with your name leaving his lips like a prayer.

“Hnng, G-God damn it-ffffuuuccckk….” Lucifer mumbled, his hand gradually picking up the pace as he stoked his shaft.

You tried to wrap your head around what you were seeing, but you were coming up blank. You couldn't believe this. He’s…He’s touching himself…to me?!? How is this…? Why would he…? Your brain was a jumbled mess at this point. It was really beyond your comprehension. You felt tension pool in your stomach at the sight of him becoming undone at the mere thought of you. The sinful sounds he was making went straight between your thighs, to the point where it became uncomfortable that you weren’t giving yourself any attention. The tiniest bit of you wanted to push open that door and give him what he really desired. But before you even begin to think about acting on your carnal instincts, you watched Lucifer's hips bucked up as he came all over his hand. It took every fiber of your being to hold in a whimper that threatened to escape your throat.

Lucifer’s breathing was labored, you watched him toss his arm over his eyes and throw his head back on the pillows. "What the hell is wrong with me?!" you heard him ask. "Why am I doing this?! It’s been months now and I’ve barely had a normal conversation with her! And of course the only time I’ve really talked to her was after my damn head was forced against her…her…s-shit.” He waved his hand, a tissue appearing between his fingers. You watched as he cleaned himself up, thankful that he still hadn’t looked towards his door. Lucifer kicked himself out of his pant and swung his legs over the side of the bed, his head hanging low. “And what an absolutely fantastic exit I made! “Sorry, gotta go! My dick is hard as a rock right now because of you!” Great job, Lucifer! No wonder she thinks I don’t want her here!” He sighed heavily. “I can’t do this anymore. This isn’t right. I need to stop being a coward and just tell her how she makes me feel…”

A small gasp escaped your lips. Fuck.

Lucifer's head shot up immediately, his panicked eyes fixating on the door. You didn't even close it behind you as you took off sprinting down the hall, praying to anyone who could hear you that he didn't see you. You didn’t stop running til you made it back to your room, slamming the door behind you. Your knees gave out from under you as you dropped to the floor. In that second, it all clicked for you. Why Lucifer seemed to avoid you at every turn, why he tripped over his words when he spoke to you, and why he practically begged you not to leave the hotel.

Lucifer liked you. Lucifer really liked you. That thought alone could have made you scream if you weren’t trying desperately to hold yourself together. And it’s not like you didn’t have passing thoughts about him. He was gorgeous, after all. But not only that, you saw how he acted with the others at the hotel. He was sweet, and silly, and fun, even though you never got to experience it first hand. Now you knew where Charlie had gotten it from.

But of course those thoughts never stayed. He didn’t like you, right? So instead of wallowing in what could never be, you thought it best not to dwell. But now…now those thoughts were coming back in full force. The aching between your legs only grew as the very fresh images of Lucifer naked and moaning in his bed flooded your mind.

There was a knock at the door.

[pholla-jm]

Sukuna with a S/O who has a sweet tooth/Loves eating sweets ?? :00

Like imagine most of the time they go on a date it's basically just reader and him going to different shops trying out desserts and sweets

Hello! Sorry it took me awhile! I got busy with work and my new class had just started. I decided to add some more to this. I hope you like it!! *********

Sweet Tooth

IMAGINE: SWEET TOOTH~ SUKUNA X READER FEAT: GOJO GENRE: FLUFF cw: modern au! implied female reader, sukuna calls your woman. not proof read. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whenever Sukuna took you out, you would make him stop for a sweet treat. It could be for the slightest thing. Groceries? Sweet treat. Getting gas? Sweet treat? 

You will use any excuse to get sweet treats. 

This time, there was no real reason to convince Sukuna that you needed a sweet treat. Only that there was a new café opening up. Taking a quick glance at what would be on their menu, you already decided that you needed to go. It had most of your favorite pastries and drinks. 

“Please, Sukuna.” You pleaded to your boyfriend with your hands clasped together. You had asked him to take you, but you knew how much he didn’t care for places like that. He didn’t like the options they provided; they always smelled so sweet. And it sometimes stuck to his clothes. 

Sukuna has already decided to go with you, though. He would do anything for you. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make it easy for you. He loved to see you like this. 

“Please, I’ll make it worth your while.” 

Sukuna smirks at your words. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

Your face lit up at his words, “so does that mean you’ll take me?” 

“Yeah, brat.” 

“Yay! Thank you!” You say while wrapping your arms around his ample shoulders. 

Sukuna chuckles, squeezing you tight in return. 

When the time came, Sukuna couldn’t believe he agreed to something like this. Since the place was pretty new, there were a lot of people. The theme was coquette, which Sukuna wasn’t fond of. 

Sukuna settled with matcha mochi and coffee. In contrast, you had the most sickening sweets in front of you. 

When Sukuna looks at all of it, his stomach almost churns in disgust. But when he sees you gleam at the desserts and take happy bites, it erases his dislike for the sweet treats. He would spend hours in places like this to see your happy face. 

“What’s so great about these treats anyway?” Sukuna asks you. 

You were about to answer, but someone interrupted you. Someone that neither of you wanted to see. 

“Ooh, can I have some of that?” You look up to see the bright blue-eyed man named Gojo. 

“Ugh, no get away.” You say while shoving him away. 

“Awe, come on.” He pouts at you. 

Sukuna frowns at seeing Gojo. “Get away from (y/n).” 

Gojo’s eyes flicker over to the brooding man. His arms were crossed as he glared at Gojo. 

An annoying smirk now sits on his face, “why? Scared I might take her away?” 

Sukuna’s hand slams down on the table, and your face twists disgustingly. 

“Oh my god.. You’re so embarrassing niisan.” You whisper to Gojo, but Sukuna hears it. 

The anger slowly dissipates from his body, and confusion fills his head. 

“Brother?” He mumbles. 

“What? I can’t protect my little sister?” 

While the two of you bicker, Sukuna glances back and forth. 

Gojo and you didn’t look alike. Not a single feature looked the same. Some things are similar, like the hyper personality… and the major sweet tooth. 

“Well, I got to go. Thanks.” Gojo says after taking a bite of one of your cakes. 

He gives you a smug look before waving bye. 

“Ugh,” You groan before turning to Sukuna, “I’m sorry about him.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me he was your brother?” 

You look at him in confusion, “I didn’t?” 

Sukuna gives you a look, “I think I would remember something like that.” 

“Huh, sorry. I guess it just slipped.” 

“How does something like that slip?” 

You purse your lips, “well whenever I’m not around him… I just seem to not worry about him. You know?” 

Sukuna looks at you, a bit confused, which means you will explain it further. 

“Satoru and I aren’t full siblings. Same mom but different dads. But Gojo has always been the golden child. Everything is about him. He always got everything he wanted, but me? I was lucky to even be in the same room as him.” You chuckle while shaking your head. 

“So, it’s nice not having him around. I can do whatever I want without him around.” 

Sukuna nods, “and have whatever you want as well.” 

You smile at his words, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” 

Sukuna scoffs, “of course I’m right, woman.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “It wasn’t long ago that I discovered my love for sweets. I never got sweets as a child, since Satoru hogged them all.” 

Sukuna smiles at you and leans forward. He grabs a napkin, wiping some of the icing away from the corner of your lips, “that just means I’ll have to spoil you more than.” 

Your face turns pink at his words and actions. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 7

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, voyeurism, manipulation, lies, spying.

Word Count: 926

Previously On...: Jade's got you kidnapped is in planning on auctioning you. She's got something for you to see, though, first.

A/N: Second favorite line of dialog in this part. Guess!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

The video opened to show Jade, clad in only her bra and underwear, positioning the camera on top of a dresser in what you assumed was their Russian safehouse. Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only his boxer briefs, with his head in his hands, not looking at what she was doing.

“Sorry,” he muttered without looking up. “That’s… that’s never something that happened to me before. I’ve, uh, never had a problem… getting it up.”

“That’s okay, baby,” Jade said, crawling across the bed to stand behind Bucky as she began pressing kisses to his neck. “It’s new and you’re nervous. But I’m not going to judge you.”

Bucky flinched away from her touch. “It’s not… it’s not nerves. I just… Pocket. I don’t think I actually want to do this to her.”

Jade in the video dropped her head to the top of Bucky’s shoulder. “Why are you thinking about that slut?” she demanded. “She fucked your best friend. You saw the articles. She’s just not hiding it from you anymore.”

“God, I wish you’d never shown me those fucking articles! I just can’t believe she would do that to me,” he moaned. “She knows how I feel, how insecure I am about the two of them together.”

“Yeah, she knew, but she did it, anyway,” Jade said as she started peppering his skin with kisses again. She reached down and began palming at Bucky’s limp dick through his underwear. “She doesn’t love you. I wish you would finally open your eyes and see that. You deserve so much better.”

“But I love her,” he whispered, so low you had to strain to hear it. “I’m just so… fucking mad at her! At both of them! How could she do this to me? She said she was going to give me a chance, to let me work on rebuilding trust! And the second I’m gone, she turns around and does this?”

“Listen, Jamie.” Jade dipped her head and took on air of contrition. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but she started things up with Steve long before this gala.”

Bucky jerked his head up at her. “You’re lying. She wouldn’t.”

Jade frowned, and brushed a strand of hair back off his face. “My poor, sweet, trusting Jaime. I’m so sorry. The other agents talk, you know. Especially the ones that kind of blend into the background. You can hear an awful lot when people don’t notice you’re there.”

Bucky shook his head in disbelief at her. “No. There’s no way.”

“I guess it started when they went to Latvia? Anything change between them after that mission?” Jade said. “One of the agents told me she caught a glimpse of them fuckin in the back of the Quinjet before landing.”

“They could have seen anybody,” Bucky said, his breath coming heavier now, and you knew he was starting to doubt, knew he was letting his insecurities take over. “That was… before, before we were even together.”

“Maybe,” Jade hummed with a shrug. “The agent said she was wearing a purple pushup bra under her tac suit, but Steve had pulled it down so he could… well, you know.  I’m sure Pocket doesn’t have a bra like that, right?”

Your mind flashed back to that day, that mission– it stuck with you because it was the day you and Steve had finally buried the hatchet about Berlin. It was the day… fuck. It was the day Bucky asked you if you and Steve had slept together because you were acting so much nicer toward him. You remembered coming out of your bathroom to chastise him for even asking, but he was barely paying attention. He’d kept staring at your breasts… why? Because you’d been in the middle of changing out of your tac suit when he asked his ridiculous question, and you came out with it down to your waist, the only thing covering your top half… a purple push up bra. Bucky always said how much he loved that bra, because it reminded him the first time he got to see your tits, even if you hadn’t taken it off.

“You flaky, crusty cunt!” You said. “You hacked the feeds of my room! You SPIED on us!” 

“Oh, calm down,” said Jade, pausing the video and going back fifteen seconds to make sure you didn’t miss a moment. “Don’t think of it as spying, think of it as doing research. I needed to know what my Jamie was up to before I arrived. What he did in his spare time, who he did it with.” She cast you a dirty look.

You felt gross. This new piece of information meant that Jade had had access to footage from every single time you and Bucky had had sex, every one of your private moments. You almost didn’t want to know how she had gotten past the encryption locks you’d installed into the system. If you ever made it out of this room alive, you’d make sure you updated the security.

“Don’t worry, Precious Pocket,” Jade said, slapping your cheeks a little too roughly with the flat of the phone. “I didn’t watch all the pity fucks Bucky gave you.” She laughed. “Watching you wiggle and bark like a beached sea lion once was enough for me. Poor Jamie. Wonder how he could even stand it.”

She put the phone back in front of your face. “You don’t want to miss the best part!” she exclaimed, before hitting play once more.

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