#I promise you it won’t be the same if you make it your own

[luveline]

Hi lovely!

I saw you’re looking for Hotch requests and I think I requested one before but I forgot what it is oops.

Could I please have one where Jack calls R mom for the first time and she feels super guilty about it but Hotch is super sweet.

Thanks!

ty for requesting 💞 fem (mom and stepmom!) reader, 1.4k

You’re obsessed with your little baby, but you’d loved Hotch’s son for a long time before you had your own, and you’ve continued to love Jack as your own regardless. If anything, having a baby only cemented that you love him. 

Though you’d never disrespect his mother or what she gave up for him, you’re a parent to Jack. When Hotch is home, Jack is home, and when he isn’t you have Jack four days out of the week anyways, splitting him lovingly with his Aunt Jess. You take care of him and you love to do it; being his stepmother is a gift. You love Jack. 

And he loves to cuddle. 

“Rub my hair,” he demands sleepily, crushed as far into your neck and chest as he can be without pushing his brother out of the way. 

“Say please,” you say, already bringing your hand up where it’s sandwiched behind him to stroke the hair from his eyes. “Like this?” 

“Thank you.” 

He’s pretty much always polite when he’s not tired. Which has little to do with you and everything to do with Haley and Hotch, you’re sure, he’d been a picture of a golden child the day you met him and besides the occasional tantrum or naughty spell, he’s a grateful child. He says thank you for things you want no thanks for, when you towel dry his hair at night for bed, or when you help him into his socks. He once said thank you for a kiss on the cheek, as if it wasn’t something you’d wanted to do. 

“You’re welcome,” you say softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his brow. “Can I have a little kiss?” 

You kiss his brow when he smiles, letting your eyes flutter closed, nose still pressed to his skin. 

“I love you, mommy,” he says, wrapping his arm around your neck with a sleepy snuffle. 

You struggle to answer. The baby gurgles against your chest.

There has been a lot of mommy talk lately. Hotch is calling you mommy often now that the baby’s born, cutesy stuff like, There’s mommy! when you come back from a shower, or How’s your mom? when he’s home from work and he wants to hold the baby, but he wants to check on you at the same time.

He’s never called you Jack’s mom, but Jack’s six. He was bound to get confused, or to feel new feelings, though you weren’t expecting him to do it right now. 

Eventually, you figure you’ll do what’s best for Jack even if that best isn’t something you deserve. “I love you too, baby.” 

“Are you falling to sleep?” he asks. 

You have arms full of children and Hotch will be home any minute if what he said on the phone is true, so you won’t. “Maybe not yet, but you can sleep if you want to. I’m sure dad will wake you up when he gets home.” 

Jack settles in with the baby. Your promise gives him the solace he needs to sleep.

…What if Hotch is angry? 

You’ll tell him what happened, of course, because you don’t have secrets with each other, and even if you did this is something he’s owed, right? He’s been completely candid with you about everything, how he loved Haley, how he feels he failed her in more ways than her death, and how he loves her still. 

You don’t feel like you’re competing for his loyalty or affection, it’s simply clear that he respects Haley’s memory very strongly. What if you tell him what Jack said, and what you hadn’t said, and he’s furious? 

The door opens downstairs. Hotch calls hello, but with Jack and the baby both sleeping, you stay quiet in fear of waking them. You listen to him do a familiar dance, the click of the safe where he retires his firearms, the rushing water of the faucet as he makes himself a glass of water, and then a second you assume to be for you. 

You shuffle Jack from your chest gently, pulling the baby into the curve of your arm and depositing him with an overabundance of caution into the crib. 

You hurry to the door, finger on your lips, startling your husband on the last stair. 

“I need to talk to you about something,” you whisper. 

He gestures for you to walk back down with him. He’s unperturbed by your worry, two glasses in one hand so he can use the other to feel at your shoulder as you take the stairs in front of him. “What happened?” he whispers. 

“It’s–” You wince, descending the stairs with a distinct sense of nausea. “Can we sit down? I’ll make you something to eat.” 

“I’m fine,” he says, following you to the kitchen, where you sit in adjacent chairs at the dinner table. 

You brace your hands on a placemat. 

He laughs and takes them into his own. “Nothing you tell me is worth all this worrying.” 

“It’s about Jack.” 

His smile fades. “What about him, honey?” 

“We were upstairs… You know how he is, he climbed on top of me and we were cuddling because Noah finally fell asleep, and,” —it’s best to just tell, even if you feel clammy and guilty before you’ve admitted to it— “he called me mommy. I’d never tell him to, I promise.” 

Hotch brings his hands up slowly, yours raising with them where he’s holding your wrists. “What did he say?” 

“He said he loved me. ‘I love you, mommy.’” 

“What did you say?” 

Your grimace is apologetic, eyebrows pinched. “I said I loved him too.” 

“And you’re worried that’s not okay?” You nod. “It sounds to me that he was just telling you how he feels. When you wake him up in the mornings and you tuck him in at night, and you’re the person he goes to when he needs a bandaid, you must feel like his mother.” 

“But I’m not.” 

“No.” His dark eyes are relaxed, his brow only a shade of its usual downturn. “Haley is his mother, and she’d love how you treat him. He will always, always know who his mother is. But if he wants to call you mom, a woman who loves him and looks after him with the same tenderness as you do your own, then I think that’s okay, especially with Noah getting older… How do you feel about it?” 

“I love him.” 

He does that silly smile where he’s more happy than he’ll admit to, leaning forward, pressing your hands to his arm and then his lips. “He loves you,” he says. 

Hotch stands and offers a hug. When you take it, he sways you from side to side. “She really would’ve liked you, honey. It was me who let her down.” 

“But her baby calling me mom…”

“I know. It’s a conflicting feeling.” 

You let out a big sigh and slouch in his arms. You’re warm butter under his touch. He reacts accordingly, bending and cupping the back of your neck. 

“It felt awesome,” you confess. He might as well know. After the remorse, you were happy. Jack must really love you. 

“You’re very, very good to him. Just let him love you however he wants to, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget who his mother was, and how much she loved him.” 

You wouldn’t let Jack forget her either. 

Hotch leans away to dot a kiss to your cheek before he hugs you again. “How are they? The boys?” 

“Sleeping. Waiting for you to come home and wake them up. Maybe please don’t wake up Noah, he might sleep through the night tonight if we leave him alone.” 

“I won’t. I’ll see him in the morning.” His smile is audible. “I’m a little jealous, I think. Jack hardly ever says he loves me first.” 

“You clearly don’t cuddle enough.” 

“That,” he says, giving your hip a squeeze, “is a low blow. But I’ll allow it.” 

“You’ll allow it?” 

Another adoring sweep of his arms on your back. “You can say what you want,” he amends. “Thank you for taking care of things while I was gone.” 

He doesn’t need to say thank you, you’re a family, but you appreciate the gesture. “You’re welcome, handsome.” 

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

What Was I Made For?

Summary: Leon, a bodyguard assigned to watch and protect his client, confesses his feelings for the reader. Although he knew he shouldn’t be involved in a relationship with his client, he still reaches out for you.

Warning: fluff/comfort. smut. afab reader. bodyguard!leon x female!reader. oral (f receiving), missionary, slight age gap (Leon is 27 and reader is 21+) loss of virginity. protected sex. CONSENTED. not proofread lol.

A/N: i got inspired by multiple things; jo and laurie, pride and prejudice, i love you and what was i made for by billie eilish. i wanted to try and write a romance so pure that it makes people cry. I think this is my cheesiest work so far.

“I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century, to repeat to you once again my vow of eternal fidelity and everlasting love.” - Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Your father had hired a bodyguard to protect you while he was away. He loved you, like any father would, but his work seemingly came first. Not that you had any word in it anyway. It seemed that most of the choices he made for you were clearly out his heart and not out malice.

But when the tall, muscular, blonde man entered your own house, you couldn't help but feel a little angry. Not at the stranger, he was just hired to do his job, you were mostly mad at your dad for even thinking you didn't have what it takes to defend yourself. You hated feeling small and be seen as weak but again, there was nothing you could about it except take it.

Leon was his name, Leon Scott Kennedy. He's quiet, blunt, and always had a serious expression on his face. You couldn't read him- no one could, really. It was a little unsettling but overtime you grew closer to him.

He'd help you out when you needed a ride, he would reach the highest shelf when you wanted something from the pantry; he was a man you can depend on. And he, too, grew to care about you.

What you didn’t know was that every time he saw you or was with you, his heart would skip a beat. His entire being would feel like that satisfying part of a song; the bridge or the chorus or whichever part it may be. He felt complete, but he also felt empty. For how could a girl like you love him like he loved you?

Fear. He was scared, scared that you might push him away and abandon him like everyone has. That he’d have to fetch for himself again and live in solitude until his job required him to be sent away.

And so he buried these feelings deep down. He promised to himself that in order to not get hurt, he’d tough it out. That he won’t soften on you; he promised himself to stay a strong man and not let the wild emotions in his heart deter him from doing his job. And that’s what he did. Feelings were deeper than six feet, never to be resurfaced again.

Tonight was rough for you, so you found yourself in a bar. You didn't tell Leon, why should he know about this? He'd run off and tell your father about you drinking and getting with some random guy.

So, you turned off your location and put your phone on 'Do Not Disturb.' You needed an escape, a break from current reality. And what better way than to spend it on drinking away.

But you couldn't get one drink in without him bursting through the doors of the bar. His eyes landed on you, and he dashed towards you, "What are you doing here?"

His fingers wrapped around your wrist before the cup of liquor could touch your lips. You furrowed your brows and stared at his scowl, he looked beyond pissed. You knew he had every right to feel that way but at the same time, you desperately wanted to be away for a while.

"How did you find me?" you asked him.

"I'm a government agent, Y/n. I have my ways," He replied as he took your glass and put it back down on the bar table, "C'mon, let's get you home."

He pulled you up by gently taking your forearm, he guided the two of you out and away from the bar.

“No, Leon, I don’t want to go home. I want-“

“I don’t care what you want, this isn’t safe for you. I will take you back whether you like it or not,” he quickly turned to look you. He was mad and his face was not hiding it.

With a sigh, you reluctantly let him take you away. He ended taking you both to his apartment as your place was quite literally one hour away and it was dead in the night.

“What were you thinking?” He seethed through gritted teeth, “What if something had happened to you, huh? Were you just planning on getting drunk? How would you have gotten back home if I didn’t get there?”

You were currently sitting down on his couch, wearing his clothes that he let you borrow since you didn’t feel comfortable in the dress you were wearing. Right now, he was going through one of his heated lectures where it made you feel like a child. Curse him and his authorative voice.

“What were you even doing there? That’s not a place you belong and you know it,” he stood in front of you as he glared down at you.

“I don’t know, I needed a break,” you mumbled.

Leon scoffed and deepened his furrowed brows, “A break? From what? What could possibly make you want to go to one of the most dangerous place a woman could ever be in. Don’t you ever think about your safety? What if a man had taken advantage of you and you’d gone missing by tomorrow morning?” Leon sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he paced around his living room.

His apartment was nice- small but cozy. It was very him, in a way. Minimal decor with blank walls, devoid of any pictures. He never takes pictures and you realized this a long time ago when he’d gaze at the walls in your house, staring at your pictures when you were young. He liked them but he also felt jealous. Leon didn’t have these pictures. But he did have memories he wished he could keep forever.

He was beyond stressed for you. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if anything had happened to you. As these thought ran through his mind, he couldn’t help but feel a small tug at the string in his heart. Something he knew all too well. A feeling he’s been keeping locked away seemed to be coming back at the wrong time.

“Leon, give me a break. I just wanted to have some fun,” you mumbled as you looked at him pace back and forth like a madman. You knew he was concerned for you, but was that really it? Just concern?

“Fun? Your idea of fun is getting drunk and have creeps around you? Bullshit, Y/n. Bullshit,” he quickly retaliated.

“What was the real reason? And don’t lie to me, I can tell when you’re lying,” he grumbled and stopped pacing to look back at you.

You sighed, “I… I wanted to be cool. All my friends have gone out and had fun but not me. I’m always cooped up like a prisoner. When am I going to have my fun?”

His eyes softened slightly, very slightly, but he was still scowling at you. Do not break, is what he repeatedly told himself.

“Leon, I’m an adult. I want to make stupid decisions. I want to get drunk and have sex with random strangers,” you looked down at your hands playing with the drawstrings of the sweatpants you were wearing, “I wanted to get drunk and… lose my virginity,” you whispered.

He stood frozen in place, but then he sighed and rubbed his face with his hand, “Jesus Christ, Y/n… you’re-“

He looked at you exasperatedly, “You’re way too young to be going out and drinking with random guys— especially like this.” He leaned over you, placing his hands on the couch armrests on either side of your body before continuing. “God, I could smack you right now for being so stupid.”

He obviously didn’t mean it but he couldn’t help it. You worried him, you made him want to act irrational every time something bad was threatening you.

Your eyes slightly widened from how close he got but you weren’t complaining, “Too young?” You repeated in a whisper. You furrowed your brows and leaned closer to his face, “I’m not being stupid. It’s embarrassing being a virgin at this age. When did you lose your virginity, huh?” You quickly instigated.

“At 21,” Leon replied, his scowl lessening as he noticed that you leaned in closer. “And I was sober, too.”

His eyes remained fixated on your eyes and he stared deeply into them, “You are still too young though. That’s what I’m trying to say. When someone tells you, live your life, they don’t literally mean being in the center of danger."

You groaned and leaned back against the couch, seemingly frustrated, “I’m an adult, Leon.”

You rubbed your eyes and then looked at him, “All my friends have had sex before and I’m still seen like a fucking nun. At least you lost your virginity, who knows when I’m going to lose it,” you grumbled and crossed your arms over your chest.

He was quiet for a bit. He paced around some more before speaking again with a stern tone. "Just because you're an adult-- barely, I might add-- doesn't mean you know everything. Hell, you're still a virgin for a reason."

He sat down on the couch next to you as he tried to think of what else to say. Leon sighed and leaned forward, his elbows now resting on his knees as he looked back at you, "I can just picture it if you do go home with some guy."

Leon puts his hands back to the armrests, "Idiot pulls your pants down, gets on top of you and finishes in two seconds-"

“But at least I’ll get fucked, right?” You interjected and looked away, “It’ll be nice if someone did that, except the finishing quickly- obviously.”

“I mean- that’s gotta be an exaggeration too, right? Who finishes in two seconds?” You mumbled and looked back at him.

Leon sighs, his gaze softening slightly. He opens his mouth to say something before stopping and closing it again, “Jesus…” He takes a deep breath before speaking again. “No, it’s really not an exaggeration. There are a good number of guys who think that they’re in a movie when they’re with a girl like you. And then—“

Leon leans in close to you and grabs your arm, “You’ll hate yourself if you lose your virginity this way.”

You looked at his eyes and then sighed, “So what should I do? Be the only one who hasn’t slept with anyone before? I haven’t even kissed anyone and that is embarrassing. Everyone’s kissed someone before but not me,” you muttered.

You didn’t mind him grabbing your arm, you didn’t even notice it since you were too deep into the conversation. Why did he care anyway? It’s not like he’s going to tell your dad about this, is he?

He wouldn’t. You and him both knew he wouldn’t betray you like that. Because you both knew that deep down, feelings were there. Feelings that made the two of you act exactly like this. Like kids fighting.

“I know I’m still young but c’mon… you know kids my age have done things… I don’t want to be left out, you whispered.

“Goddamnit..” Leon groaned and grabbed the other arm, holding them in both of his huge, calloused hands, “Stop being so damn self-conscious.” He glared down at you, the intensity of his eyes nearly causing your heart rate to spike a bit.

“And stop thinking about other people. You’re young and you’ve already lost the most important one…” Leon leans in even closer to you, almost so close that your noses are touching.

You furrowed your brows confused, “I have?” You muttered, “I haven’t…” your voice trailed off as you tried to look away but you couldn’t. His blue eyes were piercing right through your eyes as both your noses were so close to touching.

He stared at you in silence, his nostrils flaring from his deep breathing. Then, without warning, he kissed you firmly on the lips, his lips meeting yours for a few solid seconds. Freezing as you felt his lips on yours, not realizing what he was doing, but then you melted. Your heart was beating so fast but you didn’t protest. You closed your eyes for those few seconds and when he pulled back you looked at him with a dazed look. He sighed and took a deep breath before speaking again, “Idiot.”

“Why… you…” you stuttered as you tried to think of something to say. Your cheeks were coated pink as you licked your lips, still tasting his lips on your lips.

Leon leaned back and glanced at you. His face was flushed, but his expression was nothing but a mix of pure tenderness and soft longing. He rubbed his thumb against the side of your cheek and looked down into your eyes before speaking in a tender, whispery voice,

“Because you won’t listen, you know you’ll regret it if you do something like that with some guy, and I didn’t want that to happen to you.”

His heart was beating out of his chest, he couldn’t believe he’d just done that but he didn’t regret it. If he could have a little bit of you, he’d take it with him to his grave.

“So… you did it instead…” you mumbled as you looked at him with big eyes. Your pupils were dilated as you stared at his eyes and then down at his lips. Then your eyes shifted back to his blue eyes again. It was unbelievable that he took it upon himself to give you your first kiss. And it left you wanting more. But was that allowed?

He looked down at your lips for a moment before looking back up. He noticed your wide, glazed over eyes, the rapid breathing, and how your cheeks were coated in pink. He noticed everything about you in this moment.

He leaned back in, close enough to be right in front of your face. Then, he placed his hand back on the side of your cheek and pulled you in for a second kiss, “I’d rather it be me instead of some guy who’ll probably just abandon you the moment they finish.”

His second kiss made you melt, you closed your eyes and brought your hand to the back of his head as you moved to straddle his lap. Once he pulled back, you looked at him, “Does that mean… you’ll take my virginity too?” You asked quietly. The question made you nervous but you still had to know if he’d do everything you just mentioned.

Leon had to take a deep breath in and out as he was getting ahead of himself here. He was barely holding back in his own eyes, and you could tell that he wanted to do so many things to you in just this moment.

But his answer was a slow nod, “Yes… I will.”

To which you could only respond with kissing him again. He grabbed your hips as you straddled him, taking you in one of his arms while you leaned down for the kiss. He moaned softly as your lips met once again for another long moment. He sighed slowly once you pulled away, leaning you back against his arm, “God, do you know how tempting it is to just carry you to my room right now and do everything to you?”

“Please do it,” you whispered as you looked down at him, your chest panting. You wanted him to absolutely wreck you. To make your first time unforgettable.

He groaned deeply at your words and lifted you off of his arm. He then picked you up, carrying you in his arms as he walked into the hall. Leon carried you into his room, and then gently laid you down on his bed, climbing on top of you and pinning you down once he did.

There were many things Leon expected in his life but none of them ever led to this moment. Sure, he’d be fine with kissing you and then pulling away to keep you safe. But that’s not what you wanted either. His heart kept pulling and pulling but he tried so hard to fight it. He tried not to fall too deep. Keyword tried.

Leon looked down at you as you lay there with your hair sprawled out and your legs spread open. Your blushing cheeks paired with your wide, dreamy eyeballs made it easy for him to feel something deep in his gut. He leaned down to your neck and began to kiss and bite it, “You have no idea about the things you make me feel.”

You closed your eyes and rolled your head back to give him more space to keep giving you hickeys on your neck. Your hands wrapped around the back of his head, gently tugging at his hair. You bit down on your bottom lip to try and suppress moans and whimpers daring to leave your throat.

“Leon,” you moaned softly as he kissed and bit your neck.

He couldn’t help it. When you tugged at his hair, his eyes rolled back for a moment from how good it felt. When you moaned his name, he had to bite your neck one last time before leaning back on his knees and taking off his shirt.

His muscly body was on display as he unbuttoned his fly and took his pants off, going back on top of you to pin you down against the bed again, “God, you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do this.”

He remained in his boxer-briefs and you couldn’t help but just stare at the hot man on top of you. Heart palpitations increased as you noticed the look he had on his face- pure lust and… love?

“Me too,” you whispered as you also hastily took off your shirt and sweatpants, tossing them away to God knows where.

You both seemed to have been wanting this. It would be a lie if chemistry didn’t exist between the two of you, but it was something that was kept away and ignored. There were so many things that go against the two of you and yet, you both have found yourselves in this moment. Entangled by the strings of both of your hearts pulling you together as one puzzle piece.

As soon as he saw you down to your bra and panties, it was enough for Leon’s blood to boil and he didn’t have the capacity to wait any longer. He pulled them off of you faster than you could react, leaving you completely naked on his bed. He grinned down at you, taking one of your hands and guiding it over his chest so you could feel his muscles.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, looking at you like you were his angel- his goddess. A siren that captured his heart.

Your cheeks got even more red as he guided your hand to his muscly chest, causing you to whine quietly.

His smirk grew and his eyes sparkled with mischief as they looked down at you. With one hand wrapped around yours and the other at the small of your back, he leaned down to softly bite your neck again.

This was the perfect moment for him, he felt like he could finally be closer to you. To finally feel you for the first time. A renaissance, a revival of the piece of art that was under him. The rebirth of happiness.

He paused for a moment and stared down at you before leaning in yet again, “Y/n…”

“God, just ruin me,” you whispered as he leaned down on your neck again to bite and kiss it. Pink and purple spots beginning to coat your delicate skin from the hickeys and love-bites. That man was desperate, deprived of love and you could tell by the way he was handling your body. It was like fire spreading through your body, the warm sensation running down your skin as he licked and nipped every crevice of your neck and collarbone. Marking you, claiming you, loving you.

He felt his entire body vibrate as those words left your lips. His eyes began to roll back one last time and he groaned lowly. Without waiting for another moment, Leon started to slowly move his head southward. He gently ran his hands along the side of your body as he kissed and bit your shoulders, chest, and then the top of your breasts.

“Leon,” you moaned softly as he began to kiss your breasts, feeling them become even more sensitive. Your nipples were hard from arousal to the point where they ached for more. Your hands wrapped around his head as your fingers interlaced with his blond hair, pulling him closer to your chest.

He was being gently encouraged to stay there. To continue to torture you. And he did. Once you tell a dog to stay, he stays. And god, he’d be a dog for you if you asked him to. To him, you were the warmth of the sun shining through his window.

To him, you were the reason he wakes up early in the morning.

To him, you were the reason why even bothered to stay.

To him, you were everything.

With one hand still holding yours, the other one moved to the side of your thigh to hold your leg in place. He kissed your chest again, this time with more intensity as his hands gripped your thigh even tighter. One hand slid up your thigh, slowly teasing the line of your underwear.

You both have longed for this. The unspoken words exchanged through glances said enough.

The way you spoke his name in a soft, breathy voice was enough to send a bolt of electricity through his body. He liked what he was doing to you, he really did.

He leaned in again, this time placing his mouth right on the line where his hand was. His fingers pulled your panties to the side as his eyes set on your wet cunt. He used his tongue to lightly brush back and forth, barely even teasing you. And then, without warning, he slid his fingers inside you.

You closed your eyes tightly shut and arched your back, “Leon!” You whimpered and moaned softly. It all felt so fulfilling.

His tongue, his hands- it all sent wave after wave of pleasure. Your hands gripped his bedsheets as you moaned his name like a prayer.

“Leon, Leon, Leon,” you breathed out.

You were so sweet and soft when you were at this state. That was something he loved about you. And when you were begging for him like this? It was enough for every part of him to get a little hot.

He slid his fingers in deeper, moving his fingers around a bit before curling them and moving them inside you. All while his mouth and tongue nipped at your clit.

He moaned softly as he did, still teasing you with his tongue. You tasted sweet. A sweet nectar that drove him over the edge. Well not really but he could. He could cum just now from how delicious your pussy tasted.

His tongue dragged along your wet folds, eliciting a shuddered moan from you. He loved your reactions, three way his touch affected you so much when he felt like he was doing nothing.

He’d do more if you let him into your heart, he thought.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out as he curled his fingers, “Leon,” you moaned softly in a whiny voice.

Leon’s body was twitching from all the noises you were spouting and the way your legs were squirming. It was a perfect mix of adorable and tantalizing in the best way possible.

He knew you were about to cum, given the fact your moans became more short and breathy. You merge began to twitch just a little and he had to grip your thighs to hold them down.

His fingers moved faster, his tongue moved quicker, but most importantly, the strength of his grasp on you and himself increased. He was close to losing himself at this point, ready to reach his peak at any moment.

“Leon!” You moaned a little too loud. Your back arched as your toes curled when you came on his face. His tongue and fingers made you feel like you reached heaven- nirvana too.

He moaned loudly as you released yourself against his face, grabbing onto your hips to keep you in place and prevent you from slipping away from him. But even so, he could taste and smell you on him, and the sight of such a pretty girl in this state turned him on infinitely more.

His blue eyes barely visible from his dilated pupils, his blonde hair shining from the light of his room, how your cum dripped down his face. But you couldn’t help but shift your focus to his lips. They were so much more plump than before and he had this look like he just struck gold.

At that moment, he pulled his hand out from between your legs and moved it to your shoulder, moving your leg and hand away from him.

He slowly sat up and leaned close to your ear again, “You taste so sweet I want to keep you all to myself,” he whispered.

You couldn’t believe you had my first orgasm from his tongue and fingers, you were left a panting mess. But that wasn’t the end. You looked up at him and kissed him as he was still on top of you. You could taste yourself on his lips and it caused you to moan just a little bit. And he groaned when you kissed him.

He broke the kiss off once more, breathing heavily and staring down at you. Your body was still covered in a slight glow from the orgasm you just had. His eyes were fixed on yours, his lips wet with your taste.

"God, I need you," he breathed in a low tone, staring back at your body.

“I need you too,” you whispered as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him down with you. Your lips finding his again and his hands immediately went to your waist.

He groaned deeply as he kissed you again, diving back into the heat of the moment as his body was filled with every emotion in the book.

He felt something in that moment though… he felt something he’s only felt a few times in his life, something that could really take him to the highest heights and then throw him down to the lowest depths.

“I love you,” he whispered softly as he breathed out, looking deeply in your eyes and staring at you with pure adoration.

His tone, his words, his eyes- he meant it. And you knew it.

Your eyes were full of pure adoration as well. In this moment you had realized that this time, you had fallen for him. You loved him too.

The stolen glances from when you were in the same room, when he’s had to help you out countless times, when he comforted you on your lowest days, and when he would make you the happiest by remembering your favorite things. He was more than just a bodyguard to you. He became your world.

“I love you too,” you whispered back. You stared deeply into his eyes as your fingers gently brushed away blonde strands of hair from his face.

His heart was beating rapidly as he took in every single touch and movement you made to him. From the strokes of your fingers, to your soft voice, to the stare of admiration in your eyes, to the way you spoke to his face.

He was all yours now, this girl who was his to protect and cherish until his last breath.

There was no hiding how much he loved you by the way his eyes looked at you. It was clear in this moment that his feelings for you were genuine and honest. He didn't like you just because you were pretty and cute. He loved you for all of who you were.

He could feel tears stinging the back of his eyes as he leaned in and kissed you lightly, "I'll protect you until the day I die," he told you, staring deeply into your eyes.

His body was trembling as his heart beat against his chest again from these words. This was a feeling he truly didn't deserve. How could this girl love someone like him so much?

Your words brought out the feelings in his heart that he so desperately wanted to keep hidden away. He took in every moment of this, the way your eyes looked at him and the way your delicate hands were touching his face.

He felt complete. The strings playing at his heart were in your mercy and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He pulled you in even tighter than he had ever done before. His hands were all over you as he kissed you repeatedly once more, his lips pressing against your own as your own taste filled his mouth once again.

He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want this moment to end.

He wanted to live in this moment forever.

He pulled away from you once more, looking straight down at your body with his blue eyes looking down at you, "You know, you're the first girl to ever really make me feel this way.” he muttered.

“Me too,” you whispered as you stared up at him with the same level of adoration and love.

No matter how many times you could deny it, you felt just the same as he did in this very moment. Your heart felt like it would combust at any moment from the fact that your feelings are being reciprocated. That you both felt the exactly same thing if not even more. And that was enough for you to want to be with him. Regardless of him being your bodyguard.

“I want you,” you whispered.

A warm feeling ran through his entire body after hearing these words. This was something he could never truly describe, a feeling that was so strong yet so light at the same time. The love coming from you was enough to give him an uncontrollable urge to make all of his fantasies and desires come true. He couldn't resist you anymore, not with this level of mutual love between the two.

"I want you too," he whispered back. "Just promise me one thing. Promise me that, no matter what happens, I'll never lose you."

“Say it,” he begged, “Promise me I’ll never lose you…” he begged in a whisper. It was a plea, he dreaded the idea of losing you. He wanted you forever. Just the mere thought of you being away from his arms was enough to make his heart shatter a bit.

He needed to hear you say it. To tell him everything was going to be okay and you’ll forever be his. Because at the end of the day, no matter how much shit he’s been through, he also dreams of having his true love by his side every time he wakes up.

“I promise,” you whispered, “I promise you’ll never lose me… if you let me have you.”

One simple sentence from your soft lips and he was ready to melt and fall at your feet. He was yours and you were his in that moment.

"You have me," was what he responded with, as he gently leaned in to kiss your neck and jaw again.

“And you have me,” you closed your eyes as you whispered to him. You wrapped your hands around his hair as your hips bucked against his

"I've always had you," he spoke in barely audible tone as it was filled with the sounds of wet kisses.

His hand slid down your side again, gently sliding underneath your hip to hold you in place as he began to bite your neck again. All of his attention was now on you, and there was no longer another thought in his mind.

You moaned softly at his kisses and touches, “Leon,” you breathed out as you tugged at his hair.

His breath hitched and he pulled back slowly, his blue eyes gazing down at you as you squirmed around under him. His lips were swollen from the heat of your kisses and his jaw was clenched tightly from the pure pleasure rushing down his body.

He sighed softly for a moment and his eyes trailed down to the dresser next to the bed. He picked up the condoms from the drawer, opened the pack and opened one of them, before looking back up at you.

As much as he’d love to do it raw, he would never hurt his baby. His girl. His darling. He wasn’t that kind of man. No… he’s better than that.

"I'll go slowly, okay?"

You nodded and stared as he opened the condom, “Yeah… I’m okay with that,” you reassured in a quiet voice, a small and shy smile tugging at your lips.

He felt something in his heart when seeing that small, shy smile. It hurt how cute you were. The way you said your words in that shy voice and the little smile, it all made his heart ache with happiness.

"You're so beautiful," he muttered softly before leaning in, "I hope this is everything you've thought it would be.”

With a lot of care and time, he pulled down his boxer-briefs and put the condom on. He made sure it was nice and snug. He hovered over you for a moment, his hands slowly moving to your waist and hip.

"Promise me you'll tell me if it hurts the first time, alright?” He whispered as he slowly shifted back over top of you, making sure he was positioned just right.

You nodded as you felt him position himself while being on top of you, “I will,” you reassured. Your hands found their way to his back as you embraced him.

He nodded back as he took a slow, steady breath in and out. He could feel your touch through his back, your hands slowly running along his back as he slowly entered you for the very first time.

You felt his cock slowly enter your cunt and it made you grip his shoulder blades as you closed your eyes.

He groaned softly as he sighed in relief, slowly pushing himself in until his pelvic made contact with you. He held himself in place and looked into your eyes for approval. To know that everything was okay before he’d start thrusting into you.

Your eyes closed tightly as your nails dig into his skin, he felt big or maybe you were tight, who knows. But it felt good. You opened your eyes and stared at him, giving him a nod that it didn’t hurt and everything was okay.

He sighed softly in relief, feeling the grip from your hands around his body tighten for a moment as his body relaxed from his slight worries.

"You feel amazing," was all he could muster out as he slowly and gentle began to rock back and forth, starting to move inside of you as he leaned back onto his knees again for support. As he began to thrust into you, your moans and his grunts echoed through his room as the bed gently creaked from his rocking.

The sight of you under him and the noises of your moans were enough to have his mind go blank from all of the thoughts.

His body was shaking as his heart thumped loudly in his chest. He felt the warmth of you around him and he couldn't think straight. He started to move in and out of you slowly, his grunts growing louder as time felt like it had stopped for the two of you.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs more firmly as his hands moved along your back again to have more of your body pressed up against his.

Your moans and his grunts were lost in his room as he began to move. The bed began to creak at his movements, slowly and gently slamming against the back wall. Your hands were gripping and scratching his back out of pleasure, it was a type of fulfillment that made you drunk on him. That made you addicted to everything about him. And you wanted to be selfish and keep him to yourself.

“Leon,” you moaned softly against his ear.

His breathing steadily got quicker as he leaned in closer to you. Your moans only fed the fire inside of him and made him move faster and harder. His lips were brushing and nibbling on your neck while he continued.

His back was arching as your nails dug deeper upon his skin. His breathing was quickening and he groan out your name, "Y/n..."

You were close to your second climax of the day, you felt like puddy or mush in his hands. His touch melted you into whatever he wanted- you wouldn’t even complain.

Your back arched and you pressed my breasts against his chest, “Leon,” you breathed out. Your moans began to get more airy and short.

He leaned down back to kiss you while he rocked faster and harder into you. He could feel the warmth of the room fill up with pure steam as sweat covered both of you. The kiss sloppy and wet, not even a real kiss since the two of you were moaning and grunting out of pleasure.

His grip tightened on you as he moaned your name again, his hands now grabbing onto yours and squeezing them tightly as his hips moved back and forth. His interlocked his hand with yours as he thrusted into you, his cock filling you. A sensation that drove you insane in the best way.

"Almost there," he whispered, his breathing growing heavy around you.

“Me too,” you whispered back as you closed your eyes and let him look down at your face. Your jaw slightly open as you moaned and whimpered.

He couldn’t help but stare at your face, he thought you looked beautiful like this. His eyes scanned every little detail about your face and body, wanting to remember this forever. If he could, he’d definitely have this moment hanged up on the wall of his apartment. A memory so important to him that he’d have no shame in showing you off. But he wouldn’t do that. You were his and he didn’t want anyone else but him to look at you like this.

Your walls were beginning to clump down on his cock. You were close to cumming for the second time today, which surprised you because you’ve never done this before.

Soon, you did climax on him while he kept going. Your body convulsed and fell limp under him as he chased his own high. Your eyes were half-lidded as you were overrun with that satisfied and happy feeling that came with the post-orgasm jitters.

He sighed deeply as he felt you throb around his cock. Your body shook and your head rolled back as the climax overwhelmed your body and flooded it with endorphins.

He groaned softly as he finally reached his climax, moaning out your name in such a heated tone. He was glad he was wearing a condom, but god did the thought of breeding ran through his head at least once.

He let loose with a loud groan as he came inside you, with the condom still on. His cock began to pulse inside of you as a surge of pleasure flooded his body with everything it ever needed.

He laid down on top of you, panting heavily as his sweat soaked body pressed up against you. His hands went back to their usual spot and laid against your hips as he breathed in sharply, his heart beat quickening even more.

"Oh God," he moaned, his eyes slowly closing in relief. He wanted to be inside you forever. You just felt so good. Too good, he’d say but he didn’t care. He wanted you. So. Much.

Your hands lazily drew circles on his back as you closed your eyes as well and let him fall on top of you. Letting out a deep sigh out of pleasure and relief, you couldn’t help but feel your heart also tug its strings.

“Thank you,” you whispered quietly. If you were asked who would’ve you wanted to have sex with, you’d only say Leon. He knows how to make you happy, he knows how to cheer you and make you feel this good. He knows you. Probably than you know yourself too.

He groaned softly as he heard those words, leaning a little back at you from his position. He leaned down to kiss you softly and gently, breathing in the scent of your hair as he looked into your eyes, his hair falling in front of his eyes, covering half of his face.

"You're welcome," he whispered back, his voice low, calm and soft as he laid back down on you with his face buried into your neck. He pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist.

One thing he couldn't deny in this moment was how perfect this girl was to him. There was something about you that just made him feel complete, something that made everything in life just make sense.

"I love you," he whispered, his eyes still being closed.

“I love you too,” you whispered and closed your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him too. Basking yourself under his weight and warmth- albeit the sweat sticking you two together.

Your breathing slowed down from panting. You felt exhausted but it was worth it. You both needed a shower but you were too lazy right now- you both were too lazy to even move an inch.

This moment was one that he would keep dear to himself for all time. The feel of your skin, the smell of you and the warmth of your body all made him feel home. His fingers were running through your hair, and his breathing was becoming more normal again in that moment.

"We probably need to shower soon," he muttered as he kissed your neck one last time.

“Two more minutes,” you whispered as you held on to him tighter.

He sighed softly into your neck as he lay his forehead against yours. His eyes still closed as he chuckled at your request.

"Fine, two minutes before we get up," he whispered as his breath was still soft against your skin.

You sighed contently and relaxed under him. There were many things to do; get rid of the used condom, take a shower, and do aftercare. But for now, all you needed was to be with him. To feel loved.

And so you did, spending those two extra minutes together. Your bodies were still tightly intertwined, his head pressing against your neck as he gave you little kisses every now and then.

But eventually, his eyes opened and you could hear him sigh again as he shifted his body to be on his side rather than on top of you.

“So… ready for that shower?” You turned your head to the side and as he moved next to you instead of being on top of you.

"Yeah, I think it's about time we finally do so," he sighed as he rolled off of the bed. He stretched his arms upwards and you could hear his back crack at the stretch.

"I’m sticky with sweat all over," he chuckled, grabbing the blanket and placing it over your body before standing up and walking to the bathroom.

You giggled, “Don’t forget the condom,” you teased as he was still wearing the now used condom. You pulled the blanket aside and walked over to him to the bathroom.

He stopped once he heard your teasing, his body freezing from his pace as he looked down between his legs. He groaned as his face turned scarlet from embarrassment, he slowly turned around as all of his cocky confidence disappeared in a single second.

He let loose a laugh and took it off before flicking it into the bin.

He looked back at you and smirked weakly, "I'm going to pretend that never happened."

You chuckled and walked into the bathroom first, “It’s okay, don’t get embarrassed. It happens to hot people,” you grinned as you pulled him to the bathroom by the hands.

"Yeah, whatever," was all he could mumble as he stepped into the bathroom, his arm moving to the sink to turn on the faucet. Although, his smirk and slight snort didn’t go unnoticed by you. It made you happy that you could still tease and have fun with him during these moments.

"I'd say something back but you're pretty hot yourself so I'm not going to talk," he grumbled.

He looked over the shower at you with a raised eyebrow. Leon leaned back against the sink for support and folded his arms over his chest, a small smirk appearing on his face as he was beginning to calm down from his embarrassment.

"Cold," he answered back, without hesitation.

Scrunching up your face, you shook your head disapprovingly, “Cold? Seriously? What, do you live in the North Pole or something?” You joked as you turned the temperature adjustment to cold like he said.

A single chuckle left his mouth as he glared at you, "Shut up," he frowned with a slight giggle, "Don't tell me you're one of those people that likes burning hot water during a shower?"

“Actually yes, I love hot and steamy showers that burn my skin,” you mumbled as you joined him on the cold shower. You wrapped your arms around your body as you shivered, “Holy shit, dude. This is freezing,” you muttered through chittering teeth.

He put his hand around your waist once again and pulled you closer to his body, his chest pressing against your back as he pulled you into his embrace. His body growing warmer than yours as his hand began to rub your stomach. His body heat slowly transferred over to yours.

He sighed quietly and turned the knob up, changing the temperature to a warm feeling, although still not hot. You could feel his hands still wrap around you as his one hand went down underneath your chin and pulled your head back so you'd look at him.

He cupped your face with his hand and brushed your hair back out of your face, "There, is that better?" he asked you as he smirked and looked at you.

“Actually it is,” you huffed and turned back to begin cleaning your body.

He smirked and began to clean himself as well. His eyes gazing at you as the hot water ran down his body. His eyes traveled around every inch of your body as he took a look at you, he couldn't help but feel like he was staring at an image of beauty as you began to bathe yourself.

He couldn’t help it, he wrapped his arms wrapped around your waist from the side as they pulled you back into his form. He couldn’t help it, he loved this sight a little too much. It was so innocent and yet so attractive to him. You could be doing the simplest thing and he’d love it.

He continued to watch you soap yourself up, his face having a hint of a dreamy look in his eyes. His gaze traced your entire body, taking in your curves and how beautiful you were to him as he breathed in deeply.

"You have a beautiful body, you know that," he whispered.

You chuckled and kept lathering yourself in soap, “You think so?” You whispered.

He smirked and nodded his head as he continued to trace you with his eyes, his gaze admiring every single part of your body.

"More than beautiful," he sighed as his eyes continued to wander across your form. He couldn't help but wonder how he had gotten this lucky to have someone as perfect as you in his life.

"The prettiest face I've ever seen too. You're like a goddess to me," he moaned. He put his head against the side of your neck and kissed it softly as his hands moved up and down your body.

"Every inch of you is perfect," he murmured, "I'd say you're even better than a dream."

One could tell he was so madly in love. He never felt love like this, not this strong. And he wanted more. You broke him in the best way possible.

This version of Leon became a version that he hid away and promised himself to never bring back. Yet, in all the time that he’s been your bodyguard, you’ve managed to make him break that promise. His feelings took hold of him, probably for the first time in a while. But this time, he decided not to fight it.

This time, he decided to stay true to himself and let himself be loved and love the one girl who dared enough to love his broken self.

And he couldn’t ask for anything better.

[thatmooncake]

Remember the two cakes analogy? That applies to ideas as well!

Worried you’ve got the same idea as someone else? Just go for it! Make it your own. No idea is completely unique, and at the same time, no two versions of the same idea are ever going to be completely identical! No one else is going to do it like you do it. And if people are interested in that sort of thing, then maybe they want the same thing but slightly to the left. Maybe they’ll like it the way you do it. You never know unless you try, so keep at it!

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your older boyfriend, satoru, shows you just how much he adores you in his private office <3

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x virgin!female reader. age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). smut, pwp. fīngering. multiple ōrgàsms; overstimulation. mention of corruption kink. dry hūmping. nicknames ‘princess, baby, beautiful’. pls ignore any grammar errors xx

“heh, don’t look at me. look at yourself, princess,” satoru chuckles, easily noticing how your head is tilted in attempt to watch him as he gets you off. you’re sitting on his thighs with your legs spread, shamelessly allowing him to finger you in his office.

your shaky eyes dart down to your dripping cunt—clearly seeing how it’s got a mind of its own. it’s squeezing satoru’s long fingers as he moves them in the speed of light. your limbs are shaking by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving.

“the-the door,” you hiccup. you hadn’t locked the door behind you when you walked into satoru’s office. you definitely wouldn’t want any of his colleagues to walk in on you. though, that didn’t seem to worry your boyfriend. all he’s focusing on at the moment is your perfect pussy taking in his middle and ring finger.

satoru’s glossy lips are parted and covered in spit. he has to lick up the drool from the corner of his mouth so it wouldn’t dirty your opened blouse. he’s quite literally salivating at the sight and feeling of your warm cunt. . .

“the others ‘re busy, they won’t come in as long as you keep your pretty voice down,” satoru promises you in a smooth tone, blue eyes wide with fascination as he stares down at your pussy.

he’s always imagined what it’d be like to be inside of you. what it would feel like to hold you in his arms and make love to you without holding himself back— to show you a world you have yet to discover.

satoru wants to be the first one to do that, though he’ll wait until you’re ready. for now, he’s completely satisfied with just a taste of heaven.

“fuck, baby, she’s beautiful,” satoru praises your delicate pussy. your wet folds continue to make way for more of his fingers, spreading as he tries to enter a third digit into your poor, clingy hole. you whine as you feel satoru prepare you by rubbing your clit repeatedly with his thumb—trying to make you as wet for him as you possibly could be.

you shake your head, “can’t take more, ‘toru.” it genuinely feels like you’re being stretched out. three fingers are going to take you out. “nuh-uh,” satoru mocks you before telling you to look at him. the moment you do, his lips envelop yours in a lustful yet comforting kiss. you moan into his mouth and he does the same back, eyebrows furrowing because of how good it feels to suck on your tongue.

his fingers don’t stop. the third slides in and you jolt back against satoru’s chest. “shh, shh, i got you,” the older man attempts to calm you down. he stops fingering you for a second so you could adjust to the stretch. you’re tight—he can feel his erect cock twitching in his pants, begging to replace his fingers. he can’t, not yet.

satoru cusses under his breath once he feels your ass rub against the bulge in his uniform’s pants. you’re killing him and you don’t even realise it because you’re too focused on his fingers fucking your cunt. shlick shlick shlick — you’re dripping wet.

“i’m gonna cum,” you whisper through a soft gasp. it would be your third orgasm. you’re sensitive and your pussy feels like it’s on fire. your lower abdomen is tingling and aching. you’re going to inevitably squirt all over his chair, again.

satoru bites his lip as he hears you announce how close you are. his long fingers are already soaked with your juices, coating them with a sticky layer that he cannot wait to taste. “do it, baby. wanna see you cum,” your boyfriend coos.

satoru loves the way your hips circle back to him, rubbing against his groin. you’re driving him insane without even knowing it. he curls his fingers inside you, thumb still circling your clit for extra stimulation. you’re being driven to the edge of insanity.

he bucks his hips a little each time you involuntarily move in his lap. “toruuu, fnnh, so close,” you’re not only moaning because of the fingers inside of you, but also because of the hard bulge rubbing against and between your ass cheeks.

satoru knows your voice can easily carry over to the next room. you’re usually loud when you finish on his fingers. he takes his free hand and pushes your head back against his shoulder, his index and middle finger sliding into your mouth to silence you.

your whimpers are muffled as you automatically start sucking on his digits. satoru kisses your ear and jawline, whispering small words of praise against your skin because of your obedience. “keep it down for me, beautiful. y’re already doing so well.”

your eyes roll back as your saliva dribbles down his left hand. the wet trail runs down his veiny arm that’s exposed to your view. you love it when satoru pushes the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows—it reminds you of why everyone fawns over him. it’s hot.

you’re trying to hold out, not wanting to cum. you wish to stay like this, with satoru’s fingers deep in your cunt and mouth, his bulge grinding against the fat of your ass.

the white-haired man instantly notices this and chuckles to himself; you’re fighting a losing battle. he increases the pace, his wrist working over time so his fingers could reach those sweet spots in your velvety walls. he decides to rile you up some more;

“shiit, just imagine that ‘ts my cock stretching your pretty cunt out,” satoru grins against your ear. he knows you’re weak for dirty talk. you have never felt what it’s like to be stuffed full of a dick, and thus the imagination adds to the raunchiness of it all.

you shiver and let out a small moan escape your mouth before you continue to suck on satoru’s fingers. all this time you’ve settled for make out sessions, grinding and oral pleasure. you’re needy for more than that.

satoru knows what buttons to push. he knows how to make you melt and give in to him and his words. he bites your earlobe after letting his tongue lick the skin, “all filled up to the brim. you’d like that, huh?”

you barely managed to stifle a loud whine at that. your eyes widen and your pussy spasms around his fingers. you know it’s not long before you’re going to cream all over satoru’s hand.

sweat trickles down your forehead.

“yes, yes, yes!” you moan repeatedly, voice muffled by the fingers in your mouth. you can hear your boyfriend grunt into your ear after seeing how enthusiastically you’re responding. he’s totally getting off to you’re desperation.

satoru wants to cum so bad. he wants to shoot ropes of his cum in the pussy he’s prepping to one day take his dick.

you see black spots in your vision because of how hard the climax hits you. your breath hitches and you grip onto the armrests of the chair for support. a spray of clear and watery juices covers satoru’s entire hand and bits of his arm—evidence of just how much you enjoyed your little session with him.

the older man pats your tummy and rubs it, comforting you as the aftershocks of your climax hit. he pulls his fingers out of your messy cunt and brings them up to his glossy lips, thoroughly licking every drop off. his dick pulses in his pants at the delicious taste.

you’re panting as you try to get your thighs to stop shaking. you’re out of energy, drained. all that you hear replaying in your mind is satoru’s dirty talk. you don’t know if you can handle his dick if you’re already overwhelmed by the way he skilfully uses his fingers.

as if sensing your thoughts, your boyfriend smirks and hugs your body tightly to his chest.

“can’t give it t’ ya now,” satoru whispers and pouts, teasing you as if to turn you on again. he takes his wet fingers out of your mouth and presses his lips against yours as a promise, “but one day i will, yeah? one day i’ll fuck ya so good you’ll only know my name.”

[rinneverse]

࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚! — 𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒊 𝒚𝒖𝒖𝒋𝒊. ˒ ⊹

me and my roommate get drunk one night and end up fucking!!!! oh my god, this is so awkward…

୨ৎ syn. it’s your final year of uni—after midterms come to a close, you decide to celebrate by getting absolutely SMASHED with your roommate, itadori yuuji. much to your chagrin, this decision comes with a boatload of consequences. how do you navigate the awkward morning after with your golden retriever of a roommate!? (4.8k)

୨ৎ pairing. itadori yuuji x f!reader

୨ৎ cw. modern au, fem!reader, both yuuji and reader are in their final year of uni and are implied to be 21+, alcohol mentions, drunk sex, dubious consent (read prev warning), pet names used (baby, pretty, angel), oral (f!receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, dealing w/ the repercussions of fucking your roommate the morning after (but it ended up alot more fluffier and romantic than i intended because i love him), minors + ageless blogs dni! 18+ content under the cut!!

୨ৎ love, oak! oh christ almighty. i like itadori yuuji a normal amount. i just really really think he'd make the perfect boyfriend ever. first time writing for him so hoping and praying he isn’t incredibly ooc but regardless,, hope u guys like this i wrote it with my entire clit :3 crossposted to ao3 here!

[ main m.list! ┊coming soon... ]

“Yuu~ji!”

Your lilting voice carries through the shared living space of your apartment. Shuffling in through the entryway, the door clicks shut behind you as you peer around the corner of the entrance hallway.

“You there? Yu?”

You hear a muted groan come from the couch in response.

Toeing off your shoes with a giggle and setting them onto the shoe-rack (the same shoe-rack you constantly have to pester Yuuji about—”Yu, don’t just leave your shoes on the floor! The rack is right there!”—every other day), you peek over the back of the fluffy couch in the living area and find Yuuji sprawled on his stomach over it, face shoved in a pillow.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Like I’m dying,” comes his muffled reply.

You reach a hand down to tousle his already messy bubblegum pink hair. He weakly bats a hand at you.

“Surely you can live a little longer for a night out with your favorite roommate?”

With a grunt, Yuuji flips over, lying on his back. He blinks once, twice. Then he grins; that familiar, radiant grin that makes your heart speed up a little in your chest. You can feel your own smile widen in response.

“I think I can do that,” he says, propping himself up on his elbows. He tilts his head at you. “You’re not gonna pass out on me again though, are you?”

Your eyes narrow slightly in challenge. Bringing your face closer to his by leaning over the couch, you reply snarkily, “and you’re not gonna force me to shoulder you the whole way home again, are you?”

Yuuji’s eyes widen at the new proximity, a faint rosiness rising to his cheeks that makes you giddy. His throat bobs before he replies, “No, promise I won’t.”

You think you see his eyes flick down momentarily—towards the swell of your chest, exposed by the low-cut top you had chosen to wear today—causing a smug sense of satisfaction to pool in your tummy. You lean further, the urge to be a tease winning out over your usual sense: over the notion that you shouldn’t be flirting with the guy you live with. It's entirely a bad idea (and yet here you are, doing it anyways).

Yuuji’s lips part slightly; when he meets your gaze again, there’s hunger shining in his big brown eyes, hazy and diluted by conflict. You can see the inner strife going on in his head already: he shouldn’t be feeling this way about his roommate. He shouldn’t be a perv.

You shouldn’t be feeling this way about him either, but you just can’t help yourself. Something about the way he’s looking at you fills you with a streak of confidence that throws all common sense out of the window.

“Good. Be ready at 7?” Your tone has noticeably lowered, nearly a purr even as you smile innocently down at him.

Yuuji swallows again, still looking like a deer caught in the headlights. “Sure—okay. Sounds good!” He babbles nervously.

It’s cute. He’s cute.

“Cool. ‘m gonna get a nap in then.”

He nods his head slowly. The tension hovers in the air between you, so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Slowly, ever so slowly, you straighten, watching as his eyes never leave your form. You bite your lip and offer Yuuji a softer smile before you turn on your heel and make your way to your bedroom.

You can feel the way his eyes bore holes into your back as you walk away, skirt swishing with every step. You purposefully sway your hips a little more despite yourself and you think you hear him choke slightly, a sound that makes you feel much more smug than it realistically should.

As you close the door to your bedroom, the only thing on your mind isn’t how tired you are from dealing with midterms—it’s how Yuuji looked at you just moments ago, eyes gleaming with raw want, like you were a five star meal served on a silver platter. You clutch your chest as you flop onto your bed.

There’s always been an underlying tension between you and Yuuji. It used to be easier to ignore, something left tucked away in the corners of your mind, leaving you to instead settle for an easy friendship. Something that doesn’t complicate things, especially since you live together. There’s no avoiding any awkward encounters should either of you decide to take that step.

But lately, things have been coming to a boiling point. You’re not sure if it’s the stress of your final year of uni dawning upon you or if its just years of tension finally being pulled taut enough to snap—whatever it is, it has muddled your senses enough to find flirting with Yuuji fun instead of something forbidden. It has you pushing boundaries you never thought you would push with him before.

Oh, well. If there was any time for things to make some bad decisions and get a little complicated with your incredibly handsome roommate, your last year of uni might just be perfect. Screw the consequences.

“Yuu,” you moan, drunkenly stumbling into a wall of muscle.

Thankfully, that wall of muscle happens to be Itadori Yuuji. He wraps a strong arm around your waist, a hiccup bubbling from his lips as he grins down at you.

“Hey there,” Yuuji laughs. “You okay?”

“Yeeeeaaahhh,” you slur. “Are we home yet?”

“Almost there. Hang on a little bit more for me, okay?”

The night air is crisp and cooling against your balmy skin, a welcome relief after spending hours in a bar packed with sweaty bodies and bass thrumming through your veins. It’s breezy, fallen leaves rustling across the ground as the wind scatters them along the sidewalk. A particularly stronger gust has you pressing closer to Yuuji, your little top and skirt doing little to protect you against the autumnal weather.

Yuuji pauses, making sure you’re steady before he shrugs off his jacket.

“Here, put this on,” he says, gently maneuvering your arms into the warm sleeves. His cologne wraps around you in its embrace, warm and musky and tinged just a little bit with alcohol. You smile.

Megumi and Nobara have already made their separate ways home, the former grabbing an uber while Nobara hitched a ride home with Maki. You can’t help the way you giggle and stumble as Yuuji ushers you forward again. “Nobaraaa’s gonna geeet iiiiit,” you snicker, latching onto the hard muscle of Yuuji’s bicep to steady yourself. “Did you see the way Maki w’s lookin’ at her? I wish someone looked at me that way.”

Yuuji is probably about equally as blasted as you are (you went shot for shot, after all), but he manages to carry himself in a more sober manner than you. He lets you latch onto him like a koala as he guides you through the doors of your apartment building.

He’s quiet. Uncharacteristically so—he’s usually a chatterbox when drunk.

“Yuuji? Did’ya even hear me?” you push.

“I heard ya,” Yuuji hums, pulling you into the elevator with him. As the machinery moves up to your floor, it makes your stomach lurch—forcing you to grab onto Yuuji tighter and bury your face in his shoulder.

“Are we there yet?” You grumble into his arm, clutching him tight.

“Almost,” he replies softly. You think you feel a gentle kiss being pressed to the crown of your head, but with the way everything is spinning, you can’t be entirely sure.

Between some time and the next, you’re finally ambling into your apartment, clutching Yuuji’s jacket tight around you. As the door clicks shut, you spin to face him—

—and end up nearly face planting, if not for the way Yuuji surges forward to catch you in his arms. “Woah there,” he mumbles. “Steady. Don’t move too fast, or you’ll fall.”

Despite his words, he has to lean against the now shut door to keep himself upright, you can feel that much. You grasp the fabric of his shirt in balled fists, pressed against the sturdy surface of his chest. You can feel the way his muscles flex and roll as he shifts with the way you’re pressed up against him.

When you look up at him, doe-eyes wide, you’re met with brown eyes glimmering with want. Lust.

“Yuu… ji?” Your lips part slightly as you suck in a breath. He inhales in sync, his hands dropping to curl around your waist. He holds you gently, like a porcelain teacup on the verge of breaking.

It's quiet. There's a dazed look in his eyes as he stares at you.

“Can I kiss you?” The question falls from his lips softly—but with the silence of the apartment, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, it’s earth shattering. His eyes drop down to your glossy lips, his tongue darting out to wet his own.

You’re not in your right mind. This is a bad idea. You know this.

You don’t care.

Pulling at the collar of his shirt, you tug him down to you, lips meeting in a clash of teeth and tongue. It’s electrifying, everything you’ve ever wanted and needed in this one moment, warmth exploding in your chest like a dying star.

Fuck. You were kissing Itadori Yuuji—and it’s everything you dreamt it would be.

He pants your name amidst kisses but it’s hard to hear with your heart roaring in your ears, a drum beating an unsteady rhythm that throws you off balance in your very core. You stumble into the shoe-rack trying to hastily drag him over to the couch. Shoes clatter to the floor as you tumble into him, a moan falling from your lips as he paws at you while your hands tangle in his hair.

“I was lookin’ at you like that, you know?” Yuuji groans as the two of you fall back onto the couch. He holds you on top of him, letting you get comfy as you straddle his lap before he continues. “You haven’t noticed?”

His voice is heavy, dragging drunkenly as you stare down at him. In this position, with Yuuji laid back on the couch, you feel like you’re towering over him—giving you some semblance of control, even though you know perfectly well that Yuuji can flip you over and take you just like that. You dip your hands under his shirt, nails gently scratching against the velvet wrapped steel planes of his abs. Pushing the fabric up, you reveal the faint happy trail that begins at his navel, disappearing teasingly under the waistband of his jeans. You bite your lip.

“Hey,”—your name falls from his lips in the form of a plea, desperate and sweet—”Look at me.”

Big hands squeezing your hips force your attention back to him. You finally listen and meet his gaze, finding that his eyes are heavily eclipsed by dilated pupils, leaving a faint ring of hazel in its wake. It’s like a dark sun, or perhaps a black hole threatening to pull you into him, consumed by everything that is Itadori Yuuji.

You think you wouldn’t mind that one bit.

“Are you sure this is okay?” He’s worried, something that makes your heart warm fondly, giving you a moment of clarity amidst the fog of lust that addles your brain. The guys you typically went home with sometimes never found it in themselves to care too much about you. But Yuuji… he’s different. He does care. Yuuji continues, a touch softer, “We’re both drunk… what if we regret it in the morning?”

You slowly reach down to cradle his face in your hands. When you speak, it’s with a bold certainty that Yuuji cannot argue with: “I know I won’t regret it.”

Yuuji nods his head. With that anxiety out of the way, he surges up to kiss you with renewed vigor, tugging his jacket off of you and pulling the hem of your top over your chest to reveal your tits. When he pulls back, his eyes widen slightly as he takes in the pretty lace bra you had opted to wear out tonight.

“You’re beautiful,” Yuuji says softly. A groan catches in his throat as you roll your hips down against his, delicious friction against his erection that has you mewling for more.

“Yu,” you sigh out as he unhooks your bra with clumsy fingers, pulling your shirt off as well in one go. The garments flutter to the floor, forgotten.

“I mean it—you really are.” His voice has noticeably deepened, taking on a huskier tone that makes your toes curl. “I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I never can.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, quick and chaste, drawing a path down your jaw, the slope of your neck. He removes a hand from your waist to palm at your sensitive breast, drawing a whimper from you that has his cock twitching in his pants. “I can’t believe you’ve never noticed. Our friends tease me all the time for it, you know?” He sighs, nearly a whine, words slurring together in a lust-drunk haze as he presses a kiss to your collar. “I could never take another girl home with me because I only want you.”

Yuuji’s drunken confession sends you reeling, thighs tightening together around him as you tilt his chin up towards you. Love and adoration glimmers in your eyes as you respond gently, “I only want you, too.”

He smiles at you then, scooping you up in his arms as he rises. “Don’t wanna ruin the couch,” he murmurs, strong hands grasping at the fat of your ass as he carries you with ease. “Your room or mine?”

“Yu—” you gasp, clutching onto him for dear life, “mine, please.”

Even drunk, he moves with you with a practiced ease—as if you’ve done this your entire lives. As he lays you on your bed, he curls over you, lips pressing together messily as his hands fiddle with the hem of your skirt. There’s a brief moment where he pants, “Can I take them off, pretty? Can I?,” as he nips at your lower lip. You nod your head; immediately he’s sliding them off, leaving you in your lacy undergarments and feeling unfairly naked compared to him. You cross your arms over your chest shyly.

Yuuji smiles sweetly as he kneels, pressing a kiss to your navel.

“Don’t hide from me, baby. I wanna see you..” He trails off as he hooks his fingers under the band of your panties, eyes flicking up to yours in silent question. You can only manage to nod your head—words have entirely escaped you at this point. If you spoke, you weren’t sure what, exactly, would come out.

The way he pulls the fabric off of you is almost reverent, his eyes never leaving your body as he sets your panties to the side. His breath is hot against your skin as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Baby,” Yuuji starts, the pet name falling from his lips with ease, like something familiar, “tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

Calloused fingertips press into the sensitive flesh of your thighs as he pushes your legs open, even going as far as hooking a leg over his shoulder as he settles between them. His breath is hot and heavy as he grows closer to your core. It’s embarrassing, and you want to press your legs together, but Yuuji doesn’t allow this. He’s firm in his place, holding your legs wide open, baring you to him.

He starts gentle. A kiss to the apex of your thighs, a gentle finger running along your sensitive, weeping slit. A shiver runs down your spine as he parts you open, eyes raptly on you.

“Don’t stare,” you whine. “It’s embarrassing.”

He murmurs a soft apology, taking one more second for himself before he dives right in: tongue lapping at you voraciously, pulling the sweetest of moans from your lips as he eats you out like a man starved. You try to press your thighs together once more but he holds you open, unyielding in his grip as his tongue dips in your slit, then draws upwards, making circles around your clit.

He’s messy in the way he eats you out. He doesn’t hold back, either: he laps at you like he’s a dehydrated man at last finding an oasis, drinking in your juices like it’s the finest of nectars. Slick covers his chin as he raises his head to look at you, half-lidded eyes meeting yours as he eases a finger into you. It slips in with ease, aided by how wet you’ve gotten on just his tongue alone.

Your back arches as he pumps his finger into you. You need more. “Yuuji,” you plead in a broken moan. “Need more—want your cock inside me, I can take it.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he’s nodding his head like an eager puppy, withdrawing his hand and rising to pull his clothes off. You whine, a soft plea of, “hurry, need you now,” that has Yuuji clumsily fumbling at the button of his jeans. He doesn’t even pull them off fully, letting the fabric pool at his ankles as he takes his dick in his hands and presses his hips to yours. His shaft presses against your messy slit, pulsing and needy.

“Fuck,” he curses, a soft whine sounding deep in his throat as his hips cant against yours. Your eyes are wide and unblinking as you take in the sight: Yuuji, desperate, grasping your legs and nearly folding you in half as his cock rests on your pelvis, your navel. He’s big. The thought of someone his size fucking into you should be scary, but you know Yuuji will take care of you—or perhaps that’s the liquor in your brain telling you that you can take it, that you need him inside of you now.

“You’re gonna feel me so deep, baby,” he mumbles, entranced by the sight. You buck your hips slightly, barely moving thanks to the hold he has on you.

“I can take it,” you repeat, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second. “I need it. Give it to me, Yuuji.” Your hands grasp at the sheets beneath you as finally, finally, he slides the tip against your slit, catching a few times against your clit (”Yuuji, stop teasing me!”) before he finally eases into you, his fat tip breaching your weeping cunt. The stretch burns, but the sensation is not an unwelcome one.

Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as Yuuji hunches over you, pressing further into your pussy. It feels like it should almost be fucking impossible how deep he reaches inside you like this.

“Baby, baby,” Yuuji whines against the shell of your ear, breath hot and wet. You can feel his chest heave against yours as he struggles to regain his bearings. “You’re so tight—don’t think I can pull out, you feel s’good…”

As he bottoms out, you think you might die like this. His cock fills you so perfectly, pulsing and twitching inside you as he forces himself to still—to give you time to adjust.

You don’t want time, though. You really will fucking die if he doesn’t move soon.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down to you to messily slot your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as his hips buck into yours. “Yuuji,” you breathe out against his lips. “Fuck me.”

“Okay, baby.” He nods, pressing his sweat slick forehead to yours as he moves his hips. He starts slower, long strokes that force you to feel all of him, deep and all-consuming and overwhelming your senses with him, strong arms caging you against the bed as he fucks into you again and again and again.

Yuuji’s pace picks up, your moans a sweet melody in his ears that spurs him on, making him lose all ration in his brain—it’s evident, in the way he growls almost animalistically, hips starting to rut into yours with reckless abandon. His balls slap against your ass, accompanied by a lewd squelch with every thrust into your messy cunt.

“Yu, fuck—please,” you sob with every thrust. He angles his hips a little differently until he finds the perfect spot—that sensitive little part of your cunt that has stars exploding behind your eyelids. Once he finds it, he narrows his focus on it, bullying his cock relentlessly into your pussy until you’re sobbing.

Your nails scratch along his back, leaving angry red marks in their wake. Yuuji groans and buries his face into the crook of your neck, mouthing and biting at the sensitive flesh as his hips pound into you.

“G’nna cum, don’t stop, ohhhh god,” you gasp out as Yuuji nips at the flesh of your collar. You claw at his back, toes curling in the air when you feel him slide a hand between your slick bodies to thumb at your clit, adding to the orchestra of sensations that are driving you mad with pleasure.

“Cum for me, angel,” Yuuji urges you breathlessly, fucking you with a renewed fervor. His hips are starting to stutter, and his large hands are grasping your thighs in a bruising grip as you convulse around him. His voice alone is enough to tip you over the edge; you’re falling into him, into oblivion, orgasming so hard your vision goes dark for a moment.

A long moan of his name falling from your lips is enough to push him over with you, white hot ropes of his cum coating your pulsing heat. You feel utterly breathless, boneless, as Yuuji slowly eases your legs down. The ache is pleasant.

“Baby,” Yuuji pants softly, breaking the pleasant silence as he brushes his fingers across your forehead. “I’m still… can I..?”

Oh, god. He is still rock hard inside of you. Your pussy is still fluttering with the world-shattering orgasm he had just given you—you’re not sure if you can take more.

But Yuuji looks at you with pleading eyes, your name falling from his lips with such desperation that you’re nodding your head, opening your arms for him. He smiles down at you, and as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, his hips slowly start to rut into yours again.

You’re not sure how many rounds you go with Yuuji—the rest of the night is a blur of moans and groans, of him making you cum again and again and again, as many times as you can possibly take.

You wake up with a pounding headache and a foreign weight slung over your chest.

“Oh, fuck,” you hiss quietly to yourself, voice raspy with remnants of sleep. “How much did I drink last night?”

Blinking open bleary eyes, you squint against the light that filters into the room—your room, which doesn’t make any sense because you never bring home your one night stands. Your hand brushes against the strong arm slung over you, and that’s when you hear an all-too-familiar snore.

“Oh, fuck.” You repeat, dread creeping into your groggy voice.

That was Itadori Yuuji in bed with you. That was your fucking roommate, naked in bed with you. You’re wearing his overly large t-shirt, and there’s an ache between your thighs that explains exactly what had transpired when you returned home with him last night.

You don’t remember too much, typical of nights where you have a little too much to drink. What you can grasp—mere wisps in the back of your mind—are fleeting moments of mind-numbing pleasure, or of sweet-nothings being whispered into your ear. Whatever scraps of memory you do have are enough to make you want to scream into a pillow out of sheer embarrassment.

You feel the arm around you tighten as Yuuji pulls you into his chest and you squeak.

Oh, that’s just fucking mortifying.

“Mmh… huh?” Yuuji mumbles sleepily. He slowly blinks, eyes focusing on you after a few moments. “What are you doing in my bed..?”

Your eyes widen as you scramble to sit up, grasping at the sheets to keep your lower body covered as you do so. Your mouth opens and closes as you look for the right words to say.

Yuuji’s eyebrows furrow. He seems to have come to a realization without you having to say it out loud.

“Oh. This isn’t...” Yuuji frowns. He’s calm in a way that confuses you—why isn’t he freaking out like you are? “We got really hammered last night, huh?”

You slowly nod your head in agreement. “Do you… remember anything?”

Your attention is drawn to his lips when he bites his lower one in thought, then drifts downards when you catch the blooming hickeys on his neck in your peripherals. Oh, god, did you leave those? What were you thinking?

All too slowly, Yuuji’s eyes meet yours. The way he looks at you is almost unbearable. There’s a sinking sensation in your chest: you think he might apologize, or tell you that last night was a mistake. That he won’t let it happen again. Quickly, you blurt, “You don’t have to say it. I get it.”

Yuuji tilts his head, his train of thought forgotten. “Say what?”

“I get that you regret it.” The words start tumbling out of your mouth and there’s little you can do to stop it. “It’s okay, you won’t hurt my feelings. I know you’re too kind to just say it outright like that—“

Yuuji opens his mouth to say something, but you barrel onwards, looking down at your lap. You’re too mortified to look at him directly.

“—And I understand if you maybe want to avoid me for awhile? I know things will be awkward, so seriously, take whatever time you need—“

Your onslaught of words is cut off by Yuuji cupping your face in his hands as he leans forward to kiss you. It’s gentle, and while it only lasts for a heartbeat, to you it feels like it lasts a lifetime.

Stunned, you lift a hand to your lips, ghosting your fingers over them as you stare at him. You’re absolutely dumbfounded.

“Sorry,” Yuuji starts softly, his thumb brushing your cheek gently. “I didn’t know how else to stop you.”

You blink at him, making a noise in the back of your throat. It’s an exhale of breath, of one you didn’t even know you were holding until just now.

“I don’t regret it. And I really hope you don’t, too.” Yuuji sighs gently. When his eyes meet yours, he looks unsure, but he continues, “I meant everything I said last night. You’re beautiful, and you’re all I’ve ever wanted. Have been, for awhile now.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage. You think your heart might explode in your chest. It beats an uneven rhythm, pulsing against your ribcage as if it’s bound to break out any moment now.

“I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship, yanno? But now that, uh...” He clears his throat. “Last night happened… I might as well come out with it.”

You nod your head as his words sink in. Yuuji visibly gets more distressed with every second that passes in tense silence, so you say, “Okay. I see.”

He swallows—you know what he wants to ask: ‘Do you like me like that, too?’ but he doesn’t voice it out loud. It hangs in the air, heavy and oppressive. You carefully deliberate your next words.

“Will you take me on a date, Yuuji?” you ask bluntly.

“What?”

“I said—”

“No, no, I heard what you said.” His eyes widen slightly, stark relief visible in his irises. “Are you sure? I mean—I’d love to. Yes. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, angel. You name it.”

You smile fondly at Yuuji—you think if he had a tail, it would be wagging ferociously right about now. “First, you can get me a glass of water and some ibuprofen. Then we’ll talk about date plans, ‘kay?”

Yuuji nods his head fervently. He rises out of bed—and quickly realizes that he’s still naked. “Oh—shit, don’t look,” he stammers, lunging for his boxers that were conveniently laid out on the floor as he blushes. Once he’s got those pulled on, he turns towards you. You’ve politely averted your eyes.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he murmurs, grabbing your attention by gently grasping your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Anything else I should grab ya?”

You feel your face warm up at the affection as you shake your head. With a smile, Yuuji shuffles out of your room to go fetch your requested items.

As you sit in the quiet of your bedroom, listening to Yuuji rustle through the bathroom, you think that maybe fucking your roommate wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, childhood bestfriends to lovers, tlou'verse, jackson era, mild hurt/comfort

word count: 4.9k

summary: When your boyfriend is desperate to win back what he lost, he bets on you this time without your knowledge. And everyone knows you don't go back on your word when it comes to Joel Miller.

warnings: okay so technically not cheating because your boyfriend literally gambled you buuut if that's not your thing I totally get it, piv, dirty talk, choking, spitting, size kink, soft!joel & feral!joel, he likes hearing how big he is, affectionate whore calling™, a hint of analplay, oral (receiving and giving)

a/n: another joel fic inspired by p.orn, we love to see it

a special thank you to @nothoughtsjustmeds for the beta! 💕

Joel was never that into gambling. 

Back before everything had gone to shit, that had always been more Tommy’s forte than his own. Joel doesn’t remember the amount of times he’d had to bail his brother out, either by protecting him while putting himself in the middle or by giving him loans he’d never ever see again. Joel hadn’t minded. Tommy was his baby brother after all. As long as he was safe Joel was happy—annoyed, for sure, but happy. 

He was surprised when he learned that Jackson had a pretty heavy gambling scene and that Tommy wasn’t a part of it. He didn’t know why that was, because even on the nights where he had to go bail him out and bring him home all bloodied and bruised, Tommy just made the same mistakes. Not even Sarah’s worried expression, while she peered from between the wooden stair railing, deterred him from it. 

Guess it was different when your own kid was on the way. 

However, despite his lack of interest in gambling, he found himself betting away what little he had for someone else—someone he thought he would never see again. But honestly, he wasn’t half bad at it so he didn’t mind it that much. His only complaint was when he had to get messy hunting down those who didn’t pay up. 

One by one the men around the table folded, only leaving Joel and Liam. A huge stack of weaponry lies in the middle of the table, Liam’s eyes constantly flit between the stack and Joel. They stare at each other long and hard. Joel knows that he’s going to win. He usually did with these face-offs. 

Liam folds. 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s lips. There’s nothing better than to take what someone he absolutely detests wants. 

“Let’s go again,” Liam grunts, his forehead shining with sweat. 

Joel raises an eyebrow, “You don’t have anythin’ else to bet on.” 

“Come on now, Miller,” Liam leans back into his chair. “There must be something that you want.” 

Joel’s eyes bore into his long enough for the man to grow uncomfortable and nervous. Only then did he speak. 

“You still have that pretty girlfriend?” 

Someone Joel didn’t bother learning the name of pipes up from his right, “I thought we were only betting huntin’ supplies this time.” 

“Come on, let the man try to win his rifle back.” Joel grins. 

“Fuck you, Miller.” 

“Careful now,” he slowly places his elbows on the old table, his weight on it enough to let out a threatening creak. He cocks his head to the side, his smile small but still there. “My kindness wears thin.” 

Liam’s an addict. And of course, he says yes. 

“You fucking gambled me away?!” your voice is shaking, body trembling all over as you pace back and forth in front of the couch Liam was nestled on top of. At least he has the decency to look guilty. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Liam? I’m your girlfriend, not some kind of deer hide you can put on the table.” 

“Look I said I was sorry alright?” He stands up fast enough to make you flinch. He holds you by the shoulders, thumbs moving in a soothing manner. “Won’t happen again, I promise.” 

You scoff, “We both know that’s a lie.” You lift your chin up in defiance. “I won’t do it. I have free will. You can’t make me.” 

That makes Liam sweat. You can’t blame him, you’ve heard of Joel’s. . . outbursts. But honestly, that’s the least of your worries. You’re mostly confused as to why Joel asked for you specifically. You’re positive that he’d been avoiding you ever since he came into Jackson, only talking to you a handful of times. Why now? And why like this?

“Baby,” Liam whines, snapping you away from your thoughts. “You have to. He’s crazy, he’ll kill me.” 

“You should’ve thought of that before.” 

“Please. All you’d have to do is entertain him for the night, make him happy.” 

“So to be his plaything? Is that what you want?” 

“Maybe he’ll ask you to cook him dinner, hell if I know.” 

“Sure,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure he’ll just want something to eat.” 

You give him one more look before slipping away from his gentle hold. Your heartbeat is slow, hours spreading across every beat, making your chest feel heavy and lightheaded.

“Fine,” you cave, wrapping yourself with your shaking arms. “But after this, I’m done, Liam. I’m so tired of bailing you out.” 

“You can’t leave, where would you go?” 

The soft tone he used while begging you to spread your legs for Joel quickly turns into a tone with sharp, dagger-like edges. You don’t say anything. Don’t answer him or agree with him. You’re lost in a broken world. 

And now, amongst all the things you’ve been through, you have to see the pity in your childhood best friend’s eyes. 

You don’t want to be here. You don’t. It’s embarrassing. 

Your boyfriend is in the other room, brooding on his couch, examining his life choices. You’re not doing any better. Your robe loose over your shoulders, the chill of the bedroom settling over your skin. It’s especially embarrassing because it’s Joel for crying out loud. You’ve known each other since you were kids causing mischief all around the neighborhood. You still remember the time you fell and scraped your knee, how he kissed it better and placed a pink bandaid over it because it was your favorite color. 

Why the hell had he asked for you? To humiliate you? Well, he definitely succeeded. 

The door opens and you jolt. His presence is large in the room, making you shudder despite yourself. Your pulse quickens. You shouldn’t be afraid of him yet here you are, trembling like a newborn doe. He closes the door with a gentle click, the wood creaking and solidifying your fate. 

You haven’t known him for years. Even before the outbreak had torn the world apart. You had moved away two years prior and after everything went down you never expected to see him again. When he showed up in Jackson you barely recognized him. He looked rugged, more salt than pepper in his beard, his eyes drained of life. He had scars that ran deep and he had found a kid along the way. You were surprised but relieved to see he still had a big heart. 

You were ashamed the first time you two sat down after years. Everyone knew of Liam’s gambling problem, he couldn’t help it, and you knew that Joel knew. You hated the idea of him pitying you, of him seeing the world weighing down on you. You’ve heard from around that Joel also started to place bets. Nothing too big though, unlike your boyfriend who would bet on almost anything in the house. You knew those bets could turn out violent and people feared Joel. Even in a safe utopia like Jackson, the kind of man he’d become traveled from ear to ear, striking fear. And when someone that owed him money ended up with a bloody nose and broken jaw. . . no one dared to deny him of anything. 

And it seemed like you were no exception. 

Joel stands in front of you, his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, exposing sinewy muscle. He stands close. Close enough that you feel his breath on your lips. Your eyelids flutter before you avert them, tears stinging the corners. 

You drop the robe, the old fabric pooling at your ankles. You’re left in a decent enough-looking bra and somewhat matching underwear. 

“Not interested,” Your entire body goes taut, eyes wide. You hear the blood rush in your ears. Joel moves past you and takes a seat on the bed, crossing his arms over the expanse of his broad chest. You stare at him and a thick knot forms in your throat. He gives you a brief look before explaining. “I only wanted to teach your boyfriend a lesson. He’s reckless. One of these days he’s gonna be in real debt to me and, darlin’, I don’t want you gettin’ caught in the middle.” 

Your heart drops. You don’t know what you’ve been expecting but it certainly isn’t this. Tears blurring your vision, you quickly bend over and scoop up your robe, throwing it over your shoulders. Somewhere along memory lane, you forgot to remind yourself that Joel was your first; first crush, first love, first kiss, first time. But it just hadn’t worked out. You had stayed close friends until you moved away, he had Sarah, you had a promising career. You were planning on getting back to him. It just never came to be. Liam didn’t know you knew Joel, only Tommy knew about the connection you two had, mainly because he was there. 

And now you had Liam—Boyfriend who calls you names because he hates everything, Liam. Shitty boyfriend, Liam. Boyfriend who put you up as a prize, Liam. 

It’s just too much. All of it. Your heart can’t handle how unfair it all is. The pity Joel shows you, the way Liam treats you. He loves you, you know that much, but he just doesn’t care enough to treat you right or tend to you when he’s so broken himself. He doesn’t understand that you would take care of him just as much. 

And now you’re just a shell. A shell of your former self. 

The first salty tear slips from your lashes, it’s followed by another and then another. 

You manage to reach the end of the bed on shaky legs, collapsing, you cover your face, heaving silently into your palms. You don’t want Liam to hear you cry, deep down you want him to think Joel is fucking you this very instant. You want him to feel guilt, or at least a sliver of the way you feel. 

There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your brain doesn’t even register that Joel is pulling you into his chest, wrapping solid arms around your shaking frame. He holds the back of your neck, squeezing tenderly just like he did when your mom yelled at you and he wanted to calm you down. 

“Why are you cryin’?” he mumbles. “I told you I’m not gonna do anythin’ to you. Or to him. I just wanted him to think before he put you in any danger. What if it wasn’t me there? Not everyone is as they seem in this town.” 

After all this time Joel Miller is still looking out for you. 

“It’s not that,” you answer, between sniffled and muffled hiccups. “I’m embarrassed and so fucking tired. I don’t want you thinking I’m some damsel in distress, even though me crying isn’t really helping,” you take a deep breath and peel yourself unwillingly from his chest. “I don’t feel good about myself. I never do with him. I just feel like shit with some more shit thrown over. And well. . . now I know that you don’t want me either. It’s just too much. But I’ll be okay, thank you for looking out after me even though I’m a mess.” 

He suddenly grips your chin and pulls you close enough that your noses almost touch, “What the hell makes you think that I don’t want you?” 

“You. . .” with a sigh, you look away. “You didn’t want to fuck me.” 

“You want me to fuck you, sweetheart?”

Squeezing your chin, he forces your gaze back to him. His lips are parted, pupils wide enough to hide the chocolate brown of his eyes. He seems just as surprised as you feel. Arousal pools between your legs, heat dripping down the curve of your spine. You press your thighs together and swallow. 

Joel’s hand moves up to your cheek and cups it gently, thumb toying with the corner of your lip, “I just never thought you’d be interested if I’m bein’ honest. Especially not after. . . everything I’ve done.” 

“You’ve done what you’ve had to do to survive,” you kiss the curve of his palm and he shifts, coming even closer. “I always wanted to come back to you, you know? You’re my first love, Joel Miller. Deep down I always wanted you to be the last.” 

Joel was never an emotional guy. He always had trouble expressing what he thought and felt, thinking he always had to hide behind large invisible walls. The outbreak had put a magnifying glass over that quality of his. You can only tell that your words affected him by how the crease between his brows softens and his cheeks gain a subtle red hue. 

He only grunts as he forcefully brings your hand to his crotch, his cock hard and throbbing under your palm. His lips skim down your neck, kissing where your pulse beats frantically. Joel grinds into your palm, “You still want to fuck with your boyfriend waiting in the living room?” 

“God, yes.” 

You stand up and he parts his legs for you, allowing you to take your rightful place between them. Looking up, his fingers dance up your shoulders, pushing off the robe so it once again pools at your feet. The fabric of your bra has worn away with time, meaning that your nipples meet no resistance as they stiffen under his gaze. Joel licks his lips and brings both thumbs to the peaks, rubbing them until they’re fully hard. 

Then he suddenly shoves you closer to him, your aching nipple met with his wanting mouth. He sucks through the fabric. Saliva darkens the color. He sucks and moans each individual nipple until both are hard like diamonds and only then do you find yourself on the bed, his mouth still on you, starving for more. Your back forms the perfect arch, the sheets feeling like silk against your skin despite them being years old—almost rotten.

He drags his lips down your body, rough facial hair tickling your skin, your hips helplessly stutters into the air. Two large hands pin your hips down. You can’t help the noises that tumble from your lips. For the first time, you’re feeling whole. He lays soft kisses against your inner thighs and finally, he reaches where you want him most. 

Joel sucks your clit through the fabric and your body jerks, seeking the heat of his mouth against your bare cunt instead. He smiles, digging his blunt nails into your flesh. 

“Patience,” he licks a stripe down your clothed folds. “I want you to be loud, sweetheart. Make noise for me. If you want me to fuck you, that’s my price—your sounds.” 

Liam never liked the sounds you made. Unless you were mimicking porn and whispering how close you were, which was a very rare occasion. 

Joel slides his hands up to the softness of your stomach, squeezing gently. Like you might fade away at any given second. He kisses the lips of your pussy and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Doesn’t it feel good,” he begins, his southern drawl more prominent as his voice grows deeper. “To have that prick in the next room listenin’ to me fuck you, riddled with guilt because he bet on his pretty girlfriend?” 

It does feel good. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“‘Course I do,” his brows furrow, eyes finding yours. “Prettiest girl I’ve known since the first day my dick got hard.” 

The words send a tingle up your spine but Joel doesn’t allow you to linger on them for long. He slides your underwear to the side. The fabric sticky with slick, he immediately presses his lips deep into your cunt, tongue swirling around your entrance and teasing it by pushing in the tip. You cry out and grip his head, your legs pressing against his ears. Your heart hammers within the confinements of your ribcage. 

“Gonna ruin you,” he groans, licking himself deeper and rutting the bed. Your eyes roll back, your body melting with every fat stroke of his tongue. 

Joel takes you apart slowly. His jaw moves, head lazily going from left to right. You feel so wet, soaked, from both his mouth and your slick. It’s almost like he goes slower the more soaked you are. He draws various shapes around your throbbing clit. You're left withering under him, shaking, begging, and moaning his name loud enough that the entirety of Jackson could probably hear. The wet smack of his mouth is followed by loud slurps and groans, and your stomach coils tight. 

After all these years, Joel Miller had certainly learned a few new tricks. He wasn’t that same teenager anymore, though, neither were you. He feels different, yet he also feels the same. Like a familiar wind stroking your skin. 

“So damn wet and sweet like honey, fuck.” 

He moves away and you nearly cry out of frustration, fingers burrowing into the old sheets. You only move when you hear the deafening sound of a belt buckle coming loose. Joel’s pants drop to his ankles, cock painfully hard and slightly curving to the side. Your mouth waters, “No underwear?” 

“Got too lazy to wash’em last Sunday,” he lazily strokes himself. Today is Tuesday. He’s been going commando all this time. More saliva fills your mouth, you don’t know why but the thought excites you and he seems to notice. “You always did get turned on by the weirdest things,” he mutters. “Now get on your knees, sweetheart. Been waitin’ a long time to feel those lips again.” 

You pout, “Forearms are sexy, ask anyone.”

Joel sighs and shakes his head, his dark gaze makes you clench around nothing. He ignores your comment entirely.  “Don’t make me say it again.” 

You sink to your knees immediately after that. 

He’s so much thicker than you remember. The bulbous head a beautiful shade of red, shiny beads of precome gathered at the slit. You notice the vein meandering down the underside of his cock and you trace it with the tip of your tongue. The blood pumps harder in response, his length twitches and smears the shiny pearls against your cheek. 

You moan as you finally take him between your lips. The corners of your mouth sting from how wide you need to open to accommodate him. You manage to take him half way in, swirling your tongue, you hollow out your cheeks. 

“That’s it—That’s it, fuck—suck me harder, sweetheart, please—” his hips rock forward, his cock filling your mouth until the head is hitting the back of your throat. You choke on him and his head falls at the way your throat constricts around the width of him. He then pulls out, prompting you to look up. His hair is a mess, lips swollen and parted. “Use your spit, need you to wet my cock good if you want me to fit darlin’. I ain’t that teenager anymore.” 

You kiss the soft crease between his balls, rolling them with your tongue. You’re delighted to witness how he shudders at the soft caress of your lips, “I can see that.” 

“Get on with it then.” 

Joel sounds almost annoyed—no, not annoyed, but eager, desperate—to have your mouth wrapped around him with Liam in the other room. You don’t want to make him wait so you slowly allow a thin line of saliva to drip from between your lips. His thighs tense when it touches the head of his cock. 

“Is his dick as big as mine?” he asks, jaw locked, words bouncing off of clenched teeth. 

“No,” you gasp, dragging your lips down the length of him while staring at him through heavy lashes. “No, it’s not as big as yours.”

Suddenly you’re lifted to your feet, your body nothing but a ragdoll as he pushes you to the bed, the old mattress creaking with protest at the added weight.  

“Play with that fuckin’ pussy for me, I want to see it.” He wraps a hand around his weeping cock, his strokes hard and calculated. Your breasts tingle as you push a hand between your thighs, he clicks his tongue in disapproval, approaching the end of the bed. “Spread your legs wide, honey.” 

As soon as you open your legs and spread your folds for him to see how soaked you are, he’s quick to climb up the bed. Turning you to your side, he gets right behind you. Joel wets his own fingers, sucking on them with a loud groan before replacing yours with his own. He rubs your clit with precise movements, each stroke hitting the mark and making you see bright, dazzling stars. Your body moves on its own. Heat pools between your legs, your hips grinding back to feel the heft of him on your ass. 

“Joel, please,” you whimper. “Please, fuck me, please—” 

His lips touch your cheek and he breathes heavily, his chest heaving and rattling with every exhale. You feel the head of his cock slowly sinking into you, stretching you wide as his lips decorate your sweaty skin with fleeting kisses. 

“You’re takin’ me so fuckin’ well, honey,” your eyes roll back, a mild pain blossoming from where you two connect. He brushes his fingers over your clit, the sharp pleasure shortening your breath. “That’s it. That’s my girl takin’ my big cock so well. So good. So good for me.” 

Your jaw drops as you take him inch by inch. He continuously plays with your clit, kissing you and whispering words of praise while his tongue plays with your earlobe. You feel like mush. Like dough that only he can mold. Your lashes grow wet with tears, your heart beating so wild that you swear he can hear it as well. Joel slightly pulls back his hips and pushes back in, your breath catches in your throat, and soon enough he begins fucking you with shallow thrusts. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he mutters into your ear. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Tell me, louder, come on,” a smack echoes in the small room, and pain blossoms over your ass cheek. “Come on, louder.” 

“Yes!” you cry out. In a weak attempt to meet his thrusts, you roll your hips. “Yes, this is what I wanted. I’ve never stopped thinking about it—never stopped thinking about you.” 

“Is this pussy mine?” 

“Yes, it’s fucking yours.” 

Your voice must’ve come out too much like a whisper because Joel’s pace quickens. He fucks you hard, deep, hammering into you until you’re struggling for air. He wraps thick fingers around your neck, squeezing until there’s pressure building under your eyes, your lungs burning. 

He loosens his grip around your throat, “I wanna hear it, come on now, don’t make me beg for it. Tell me, is it mine?” 

“Yours! It’s fucking yours!” 

Suddenly Joel is underneath you and you’re on top, his hips relentless as he snaps his hips up into you. It feels even better now. The way his cock massages your walls shooting crackles of electricity up your spine. He holds your ass with both hands and spreads you for his liking. 

You moan his name and when you look down, seeing him staring at your face, a sudden gush of embarrassment overwhelms you and with a small whimper, you cover his eyes with both your hands. Joel grits his teeth at that. He fucks you harder, the vicious way he presses inside making you gasp and drop your hands so you can brace yourself by flattening your palms over his chest. His eyes flash with anger. 

“Why the fuck—” he growls, “would you cover my eyes?” 

“I–I got embarrassed—” you squeeze your eyes shut and open them back again. You push down your hips, taking him to the hilt as a form of apology, but he doesn’t seem to accept it and holds you still. Your head falls back with his every thrust. 

“If you ever pull that stunt again, I’ll take you over my knee,” he rasps, ignoring the way your pussy clenches at his words. 

His finger teases your asshole and beads of sweat gather at your tailbone. Joel’s grin is dangerous, something you’d run away from rather than run towards. But you can’t help it. A wanton moan rattles your throat, your pussy clenching hard around his cock. He presses forward, burying his finger down to the first knuckle. You shudder over and over, your body building tension and releasing it simultaneously. 

“You like that, wildflower?” he groans, thrusting his finger in and out while snapping his hips up. “You enjoy it when I play with your tight little asshole?” 

“Fuck, fuck—Joel—yes, yes I do.” 

His other hand snakes around the back of your neck and yanks you down. His damp lips touch your ear, “Gonna fuck this hole one day, pretty thing. . . gonna fuck it so hard you’re not gonna be able to stand for weeks.” 

Before you can catch your breath, you’re being hauled towards the closed door, the emptiness you feel sudden and cold. He pulls your hips up, presses your cheek against the barely standing wood. Your hard nipples graze against the surface, a jolt of pleasure shooting up your spine. Again, Joel thrusts forward, filling you to the brim. The mild pain tingles within your lower abdomen and you melt against him, eyes rolling back as you wiggle your ass for him. 

With every rock of his hips, your body hits the door with a thud and you’re sure Liam can hear every forceful fuck, “Tell him how fuckin’ bigger I am than him—I wanna fuckin’ hear, it come on.” 

“He’s so much bigger than you!” you groan, bracing your palm against the door. “You hear me, Liam? Never had a bigger cock in my life, I’m soaked.” 

Liam’s muffled voice follows through, “Jesus fucking Christ, what the hell is wrong with you? You fucking whore!” 

You know it shouldn’t, but his words still jar you. 

“I’ll fuckin’ break his hands for that, don’t you worry darlin’,” Joel mutters into your skin, his words marking you as something untouchable. “And I’ll make it fuckin’ hurt.” He then kisses your shoulder and shouts towards the door, slamming especially hard this time so the thud of you hitting the door echoes. “You’re the one who gambled her like some kind of prize you dickhead. Don’t blame her for feelin’ good about it!” 

“You could never satisfy me,” you say barely above a whisper, like you’re not entirely sure you’re allowed to feel good about this. About finally having him all to yourself. 

“That’s it, tell him,” Joel growls, pushing his cock even deeper. You swear that if you looked down at your stomach, you’d see a bulge, as impossible as that sounds. “Tell him.” 

You desperately grab at Joel’s forearms, feeling the sinewy muscle tense. Your slick drips down his length and wets the inside of your thighs. With a loud moan you repeat your words and it feels delightful. 

You only smile when you hear the outer door close shut. Liam is gone. 

“Yes yes yes,” Joel murmurs into your neck, ramming into you harder. “That’s it, come on my cock, sweetheart, please—I wanna feel it—” 

Your breath catches in your throat, body seizing, “B—Bed,” you manage to choke out. 

If he pulled out, you’re not aware. His body is a constant presence against your back, lips always latched on to a patch of skin, tasting the salt. Joel lays you down gently and pushes your legs high enough that it grazes your forehead with every desperate snap of his hips. 

“Is this what you want?” he groans, the wet noises of him fucking into the tight fist of your cunt bouncing off the walls. 

“Yes, Joel— this is what I want.” 

“My whore,” he leans over and grinds into you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, sucks on your tongue. The back of your thighs ache with protest but you whimper into the kiss anyway. Breaking the kiss, Joel breathes into you, “My good sweet little whore,” and another kiss. 

Your eyes roll back, “So deep,” you groan, breaking the kiss. 

“Deeper deeper deeper,” Joel mocks you by mimicking your dazed tone with his drawl. He slowly pushes in, holding himself there, he halts your breath. “How’s that, wildflower? Deep enough for you?” 

“Oh god, Joel—” you choke. You fist the sheets, your cunt fluttering and throbbing. He doesn’t move, he flexes his cock and the pressure of that is enough to break you. 

Joel wasn’t expecting it, this much your muddled brain is able to realize from the shocked groan he lets out. His lips find purchase on your forehead, kissing and mumbling praise as your entire body clenches and releases, your pussy gushing around him. You feel the trickles of fresh wetness ripping out of you and all you can do is take it when Joel resumes his thrusts, fucking you through your messy orgasm. 

Despite your insistent begging of wanting him to come inside, Joel pulls out, coming undone instantly as he does so. He rubs himself over your mound, thick ropes of come spurting across your stomach and even the underside of your right breast. He releases your legs and they fall limply to his sides. 

Joel kisses you long and deep, his weight comforting above your trembling body. When he finally pulls away, he lets out a low chuckle and brushes your noses together. 

“I think he left, sweetheart.” 

“Good,” you mumble and press a quick kiss to his flushed lips. “All I want is you.” 

Liam’s not your boyfriend anymore. 

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[ Chapter 9 ] || [ Chapter 11 ]

Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.7K~ Tags: NO SMUT, simon is a flirt, first kiss, simon has a PIERCING, simon needed to be held okay? Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost HAS MADE THE MOVE.

Chapter 10: SIMON?!

You had entered the pub looking for someone who you didn’t know. Unlike with John, you didn’t even have a picture of Simon’s face to go off of.

Not that you had needed one. Going inside and scanning the room, you immediately spotted a tall, blond man with a black mask holding a tumbler of whiskey. He was leaning against a back wall by the dartboard, one foot propped up on the wall behind him.

Tall, blond, and a fan of Bourbon. Check, check and check.

You had made your way over almost immediately, being greeted with a squinting of his eyes and a dipping of his head off to the side.

“You look good.” He had said before raising a finger in the air and spinning it, beckoning you to give a little spin. Which you did.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You had retorted as he pulled away from the wall and guided you to the bar, one hand on your shoulder, so he could pay you for the drink, as you had so salaciously demanded on Tinder.

After that, he took you outside, to a table in the corner of the outdoor area of the pub. He parked himself on a lone armchair, legs spread and his position relaxed, spine curled ever so slightly, to make him take up less space. As if that’s somehow possible.

Then, Simon tapped his palm on his lap, beckoning you to sit, which you did without question. His hand circled around your waist, pulling your back to press against his chest.

He felt you press your ass back against his bulge, which earned you a dark rumble of a chuckle right into your ear. “Not as shy as I expected you’d be.” He had whispered.

“You’re the one who made me sit on your lap.” You had retorted as you looked back at him, only to get your head swiveled forward once more by his firm hand on your jaw.

“Eyes forward.” He had demanded. “I wanna drink in peace.” He had told you. He was bossy, but not exactly in a bad way.

“I guess that answers my question.” You had told him as you sipped from your own glass. Behind you, Simon did the same. You could hear the ice clinking against the glass as he dipped the tumbler back to sip from.

“Which one?” He had asked after a wet swallow of his drink and smacking his lips lightly.

“If you were going to wear the mask.” You had answered.

“It’s for your own benefit.” He had retorted.

“How’s that?” You had asked, daring to turn back to look at him, only to be stopped by his firm hand on your jaw, correcting your gaze away again, wordlessly.

“I’m not exactly a pretty sight under this.” He had told you. “Would rather not scare you off.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” You had retorted. “And I doubt you could scare me off.” You added. “Though…” You had trailed off, thinking for a moment. “I won’t deny that if you’re like… super disfigured I might have a bit of a reaction to it at first.” You had told him sincerely.

That had earned you another rumble of a laugh behind you as he leaned in, pressing his chest a bit more against your back.

“Tell you what.” He had said softly in your ear. “I’ll let you have a glimpse soon enough, if the night ends up going the way I wish for it to.”

-

After a few hours getting to know each other, in which Simon kept up his promise of being honest within reason, you ended up at a McDonald’s parking lot, eating greasy food in the front seat and talking some more about all sorts of things. 

You told him about your ex, about your family, about work, about your current obsessions in a certain TV show, a certain videogame, a certain actor… And he returned with his own. Who would’ve thought that this mysterious, sort of strange, guy would like Pedro Pascal?

He made you laugh, his sense of humour extremely morbid and sarcastic and his deliveries deadpan, but just smart enough to draw laughter out of you… And whenever you retorted with a smartass comment of your own, you swore you saw him smiling… Even if the mask was in the way, the corners of his eyes crinkled.

And you made sure to dutifully look away when he loosened his neck gaiter at the bottom, in order to stick fries and nuggets and his drink straw under it…

At midnight, you found yourself being dropped off at home… And just like it happened with John, you found yourself not quite wanting the night to end…

So you invited him upstairs.

-

It’s 5 A.M. when you find yourself waking up in his arms, stirring awake ever so slightly by his movement.

The sun is starting to rise, lighting the room ever so slightly, and making it so you can kind of see a few shadows of your furniture around the room.

Bleary-eyed and groggy, you rub your eyelids, finding Simon’s silhouette still next to you and looking at you.

“You alright?” You ask him softly, receiving a soft ‘Mhm’ in return. You pull yourself away from his arms, leaning up on one of your elbows to look at him.

“Had fun last night.” He tells you as he stretches a bit. “Should probably be heading back to base in a minute, though.”

Your bare leg rubbed lightly against his thigh which was still clad in denim, a consequence of the two of you having had some sort of… sleepover. That’s the best way of putting it.

“I’m glad. I had fun too… Weirdly enough.” You reply as you start to sit up in bed as well. “Never did think I’d end up getting… laid but… not. ‘Laid together in bed’, I guess?” You joke a bit, still too groggy to really make a joke.

“Can just call it cuddling.” He replies as he pulls the covers back a bit in order to sit up and turns on your bedside table lamp, lighting the room in a warm-toned orange-y light and casting shadows further toward the door and the hall.

He still has that neck gaiter of his on over his features, or… maybe he took it off and put it back on? You can’t be sure, you were asleep.

After coming home, you talked some more, played Mario Kart on your switch, watched a horror movie, during which he complained way too much about the realism of the blood splatter and the injuries… And then you kind of… cuddled to sleep.

“I think we both needed this.” You tell him as he nods his head. “Haven’t gotten a good cuddle in… well, ages… And you’re surprisingly comfortable.” You add.

“Definitely.” He tells you, his eyes squinting a bit again. “I… like you.” He admits.

“I… Thank you?” You reply as you sit up in bed next to him, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“That felt wrong to say aloud. Felt a little bit like a little boy in the playground.” He admits and chuckles at himself.

“Yeah… Well… I like you too.” You reply and chuckle as well at how silly it feels to say it so openly.

“Of course you do.” Simon retorts, his tone still flat and deadpan even as he spoke himself up and acted cocky.

“Oh piss off, Simon… It’s too early to deal with your shit right now.” You grumble and nudge at him with your elbow.

“Oh, c’mon… You dealt with it all night last night.” He tells you as he leans over, getting his face close to yours, the neck gaiter just softly grazing against your shoulder.

“Shut up.” You reply, a smirk on your lips. His eyes crinkle into a smile as well, which makes your smirk soften into a little smile.

You gently grab his face with his hand which makes his eyes widen and, as a reflex, he grabs your wrist and stops you from pulling down/up his untucked neck gaiter and show you his face.

This had happened a couple times last night. One of which was you trying to tuck a corner of his mask into his neck had earned you a grab from him, that only relaxed when you explained your intentions.

He’s a deeply mistrusting person, you’ve noticed… And you are strangely intrigued by it.

“Relax.” You tell him. “I’m not going to pull it off.” You assure him once more, which makes him relax.

Instead, you lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, right on the edge where the mask meets his cheek, your lips softly brushing the stitching of the top of the gaiter. 

His breath hitches and his eyes close for a moment, seemingly basking in the warmth of your little kiss.

As you pull back, his eyes snap open again and he rushes forward, grabbing your whole jaw with his large, rough hand before pulling your whole face toward him once more.

His other hand moves the gaiter up just enough to capture your mouth in his, but not enough to earn you a glimpse of his features. 

His mouth is warm, his lips chapped and dry to shit, and his tongue is… Is that a piercing? Your eyes double in size when your tongue rubs against the cold metal nubs of his barbell piecing.

Simon’s eyes are open too, the corners crinkled in amusement at your shocked reaction. He keeps his grip on your jaw as your eyes slowly fall closed, giving into the kiss.

It’s completely different compared to John’s kisses, or Ethan’s back when you were together. Simon kisses like he wants to take your breath away.

After a moment, he pulls back, the neck gaiter quickly falls back down to cover his face and when your eyes open, it’s as if nothing happened. Simon is up on his feet, putting on his boots and leather jacket.

“We should do this again.” Simon tells you. “I’ll text you.” He adds and winks at you before turning and walking out of your room.

After a moment, you hear the front door of your apartment close and there you are, left sitting in bed, blinking away the shock.

taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur

@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

[peachesofteal]

Light on -single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt(s): fire alarm, reader backstory, reader cooks for Simon, requested by multiple.

The chair at your kitchen table is small. 

It’s so small, he’s half afraid he might break it, the rickety wood creaking under his weight, and he shifts, leaning back to test its ability, hoping it won’t give way on him. The wood makes a louder groaning sound, and your voice carries from the hall, half of a jest in your tone. 

“Are you trying to break my furniture?” Shit. 

“No.” He shoots to his feet, patting the little wooden chair like he’s trying to comfort it, embarrassed that he’d been caught. “Jus’ trying to test it, make sure it’s not gonna collapse on me.” 

You have an eyebrow raised, returning from your bedroom with a pajama clad Emmaline, little red onesie dotted with deer, your hand patting her back firmly and bouncing her in your arms at the same time, her little brow furrowed like she’s irritated with you. 

“It’s fine. I’m just kidding.” You look down at her and sigh. “Are you going to let me put you down so I can finish dinner?” 

“I can take her.” He offers, and you flash him a relieved smile. 

“Hear that?” You hum in her ear, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “Your favorite person wants to hang out with you.” His stomach clenches. 

“Come here baby girl. Let’s let mum have a break, yeah?” He reaches, and you bend down to place her in his arms, the smell of your skin, your hair, the scent of your laundry detergent flooding his senses. Emmaline is so small in his hands, but he’s growing more comfortable holding her, and when she settles against him easily, he can’t help the warmth that flares in his heart, overflowing through his body with pride, and… something else. Something strong. Something he thinks he knows the name of, but is too afraid to voice. Something that has him dreaming about giving you his last name, giving it to Emmaline too, tacking Riley onto the end of both you, as a stamp, a seal, a promise.

“She still needs to burp.” You tell him softly, pulling the cloth from your shoulder and arranging it onto his, fingers lingering when you smooth it out. “Do you know-“ 

“Yeah.” He assures, swiftly, and you smile again, hand brushing against his when you give her on last little pat on her back. 

“Okay. I’ll work on dinner then.” 

“You ah- don’t have to keep feeding me.” He tells you, even though the full plate of pot roast with stewed carrots, potatoes, and gravy makes his mouth water, massive portion settled in front of him like you’re trying to make sure he’s never hungry again. 

What a good girl, he muses indulgently. Good little mum. Good little wife. Emmaline coos in his arms, still awake, settled on his knee with her back to his stomach, one hand firm around her tummy. He bounces her, one hand with a fork stabbing into a carrot, the other holding her steady. Safely. 

“I can take her, if you want to-“ 

“No. You sit.” He inclines his head, and you blink, before automatically folding into the chair diagonal from him with your own plate. The room is quiet, fork chiming against china, until you speak again. 

“I don’t mind it.” You swallow, taking a long sip of water. “Cooking. For you.” You whisper it to your plate, like it’s a secret, like you’re ashamed, and he tamps down the urge to reach for you. “You do so much for us, you’ve- I don’t know how to repay you.” You’re mine now, sweetheart. You don’t have to repay me. It’s my job to take care of you. Take care of you both. It almost all comes out of his mouth, but instead he changes hands on the baby, putting his fork down and extending the one closest to you, palm open on the table, a gentle entreaty. 

“I don’t mind, helping. Someone’s gotta take care of you girls.” Your eyes go wide, lips parting, before you’re collecting yourself, looking down into your lap with a stunned little smile. “Sweetheart, I-“ 

The words are robbed from him, stolen by a screeching, blaring noise in the hallway, a high-pitched alarm that has him out of the chair, shoving the table with one hand and positioning himself between the door and you, curled over Emmaline who’s now crying, startled. 

“Fire alarm.” You wince, but when he doesn’t relax, your expression goes waxy, soothing, and your hand finds the inside of his elbow. “It’s just a fire alarm, Simon. People fuck with the pull station now and then. Probably nothing.” It takes a second, a second too long for his brain to catch up, and when it does, he blanches, looking you over for fear, repulsion, of him. Distaste of the secondhand reaction that he just cannot control. 

He doesn’t find it. Only blithe acceptance. Understanding. He clears his throat. “Let’s get outside then.” 

It’s cold outside. Winter is in full swing, and he’s happy he forced you into your winter jacket when did, amid your distraction, too pre-occupied with wrestling a screaming Emmaline into her coat and hat, swaddling her up in a fluffy blanket before you even stopped to think about yourself. 

“It won’t be long.” You tell him, alternating between trying to soothe the baby’s frantic tears, and looking around anxiously. “Station seventy-four is just a few blocks north.” Station seventy-four? “Look, see?” You point, cooing at Emma, red emergency lights flashing down the street. You stray closer to him, pressing into his side, and he puts his arm around you, squeezing your shoulder. You’re… nervous, and he’s not sure why. The fire alarm didn’t seem to rattle you too much but now, you’re chewing on your lip, eyes scanning across the people milling about outside. 

“You alright?” He murmurs, and you nod. 

“Just cold.” You reply through clenched teeth. 

It doesn’t take long for the fire service to get the building sorted, and once they give the all clear, you break from his side, beelining towards the front of the building. He’s about to jog after you, surprised at the pace that you've managed to make, when he hears someone calling your name. Practically yelling it, and he pulls up short.

It's a firefighter. He approaches you with an open palm, like he's trying to corner a wounded animal, and your face pinches at the corners, hand cradling the back of Emmaline's head. Simon inches closer, getting within ear shot, using the dark and the people still scattered about to sink into shadow, becoming Ghost, silent, unnoticed, and lethal. Nearly unseen.

"-are you?" The firefighter asks, staring at the baby in your arms with wide eyes.

"I'm fine. We're fine." You reply stiffly, looking away with a grim, haunted expression.

"You never come down to the station... we'd- we'd love to see you both. Or if you ever needed anything, we're here for you. We-"

"Thanks." you cut him off, trying to turn away, but he steps after you, protesting.

"I know it doesn't-"

"Officer." An older man interrupts, sharply, and the younger firefighter straightens.

"Captain."

"You're needed for system reset." He instructs, and the officer takes one last look at you, something conflicted in his face, before nodding and stepping away. "He's not wrong." The Captain tells you gently, and you shake your head.

"We don't need anything from you."

"You need community. Support. The station is a family, we look after our own."

"I'm not your own." You snap. "He was! He was your own. And how well did you look after him, Captain?" The words are vicious, pointed like arrows, seeking to maim, to hurt, and the look on your face is so anguished, so tormented, that Simon can't stand to see it for one more second.

"Everything alright?" He steps between you and the Captain, positioning his body so that you're half hidden, and your shoulders immediately slump, tension draining from you when you look up into his face.

"Yeah, let's go inside. It's too cold out." You tell him, and he nods, casting a glance over his shoulder at the frowning man, letting his hand slide over your shoulder and down your spine, directing you inside and keeping you close.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks again once you're in the hallway outside your door, and you turn into him, close enough that he can lean his nose down to skim through your hair.

"I'm okay." You whisper, fingers finding his at his hip. "We're okay."

[arieslost]

lando looking after his gf when shes coming down with a fever. she’s all dizzy and nauseous but he’s by her side, holding her up with his hand on her waist to guide her around the house so that her dizziness doesn’t take over and she flops onto the floor. i just think he would be such a sweetheart when his girl is ill

the way this was exactly how i felt on my birthday a couple weeks ago bc i had covid…

TW illness/dizziness!!!

he seems like the type of guy to be very attentive to his girl no matter what, but especially when she isn’t feeling well. he might panic internally, because he can’t immediately come up with a solution that will make her feel better, but he won’t let her see it.

he’ll be sitting with her on the couch, her legs resting over his lap, gently combing his fingers through her hair because she’d mumbled, “feels nice,” the words barely discernible as they passed through her pale lips. and he wants to do everything in his power to make her feel better.

“d’you want to go back to bed?” he’ll ask eventually, after watching her adjust her position on the couch a few times.

“i’m so dizzy,” she whispers, a hand coming up to press at her eyes, her forehead. “even just laying here, i’m so dizzy.”

“let me help you back to bed,” he suggests, slowly sitting up as to not jostle her too much. “i’m gonna put your legs down, okay? i’ll help you sit up and we’ll go from there.”

she lets him guide her with utmost trust, and he’ll bring up how special and loved that makes him feel another time when she’s feeling better. eventually he gets her on her feet, holding her still for a moment so she can get her bearings.

“don’t let go,” she says, voice monotone.

“never,” he promises, one hand firm on her hip and the other tightly grasped in her own. “i’ve got you.”

she doesn’t express her thanks until he has her gently laid in bed, a cool cloth resting on her forehead. he straightens up for a moment in order to figure out how to best join her without disturbing her newfound peace, and she reaches for his hand again.

“lan?”

“yeah?”

“thank you for taking care of me,” she says quietly.

his heart melts at the sight of her, some color returning to her face as she holds onto him.

“always, baby.” he replies, kissing the top of her head.

and she knows that, when he inevitably ends up in her position a few days later, she’ll say the same exact thing to him.

[love-bitesx]

I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈

I have another request

Hobie x fem spider reader

Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.

: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader

any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie

“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.

“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.

“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.

“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”

a sigh.

“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”

if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”

“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.

“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.

parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.

years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.

and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.

“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.

“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”

“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”

with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.

sending him a quick text:

‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’

you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.

“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.

“always.”

with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.

he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.

however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.

his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.

the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.

“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.

“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.

“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”

“i wish, mate,” he sighed.

“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”

"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"

"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.

dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.

"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.

there you were.

standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.

"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.

turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.

"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"

"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.

"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."

"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.

"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."

his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.

"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."

"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.

the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.

"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.

"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"

"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."

he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

"what is it?"

"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."

silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.

"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"

"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.

"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.

"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.

"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."

"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.

"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."

tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.

"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."

"y/n–"

"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"

his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.

"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.

"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."

watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.

"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"

"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.

"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.

"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."

"oh yeah?" you giggled.

"mhmm."

clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.

and he'd finally found it.

pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.

silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.

"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"

"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"

"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.

"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"

"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.

"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."

"you don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."

before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.

"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."

[strawberrysturniolo]

chris and the reader hate eachother but end up having to share a hotel bed

just tonight // chris sturniolo

summary: a trip with your friends turns into a hotel reservation mishap and having to share a bed with someone you hate part 2

It’s no secret that Nick Sturniolo is my best friend.

It’s no secret that Matt Sturniolo is like a brother to me.

And it is no fucking surprise to anyone how knows me and the youngest Sturniolo that Chris Sturniolo is the one person above all that makes me want to rip my hair out strand by strand. 

I don’t even know how it all happened. It’s like it was meant to be. I don’t remember a time in my life where me and Chris Sturniolo weren’t bickering, throwing shit at each other, or calling each other foul insults. 

To others, it is another form of entertainment to see our arguments in person, but to Nick and Matt, it’s the bane of their existence. 

Their brother is mine. 

Which is why I am more than shocked to hear that the four of us are heading on a trip to San Diego with no one else to help break up fights. 

With Matt driving us, Chris sits in the passenger seat, blasting music that no one has a say on. Matt bops his head to a few songs, but as soon as he becomes comfortable with one, Chris changes it mid song.

“Hang on, I have a better one,” he says every single time. 

Nick sits next to me, half asleep with chunky headphones over his ears, blocking out the sound of his brother’s music taste. I wish I could say I’m doing the same, but my airpods died 20 minutes into the drive, so I’m stuck in the backseat staring out the window, contemplating throwing myself onto the highway at 80 miles per hour.

We make a few stops along the way despite it being only around a two hour drive. 

The first was for some food. 

The second was because Chris ran out of his drink and insisted that he needed to stop for more.

The third was because Chris decided to dump his drink on me, so I had to change into something I had packed.

The fourth was because Chris then faced his consequences and had nothing to drink, making Matt stop again. He promised he wouldn’t spill it this time.

Then a fifth time because Chris had to pee. 

When we finally arrived at the hotel, we dragged our few bags inside and made our way to the front desk.

“Hi,” Nick said to the woman. His eyes were droopy as he had just woken up, so he rubbed them a bit before continuing. “It’s under Sturniolo. Four rooms on the same floor.”

The young woman’s eyebrows cinched together, almost like she was worried she had made a mistake. 

“The reservation is for three rooms,” she says instead, making Chris step forward like he is going to correct her. “And they are on different floors.”

“Woah, woah,” Chris interrupts, shaking his head. “I know you’re just doing your job, but we definitely put in four rooms. I don’t think anyone minds that we are on different floors, but we’re going to need a fourth room if that’s what we paid for.”

The woman’s eyes scatter across her screen before she frowns slightly. “I’m really sorry, but we don’t have any other rooms available.”

Chris spins around, tossing his hands up slightly. “What are we going to do?”

“Why can’t one of you share a room?” I suggest the obvious.

Nick jumps in first. “If you guys want me to edit all your shit, then I need my own room. I won’t be able to focus and get it done if there’s someone else.”

“Okay,” I nod, knowing he has work to do. “Then Chris can stay with Matt.”

Chris’ face scrunches in disgust. “No way. He snores.” 

I roll my eyes at his childish answer. “We don’t have any other options right now.”

“One of us is going to half to share with her,” Matt concludes. Chris makes a face as if to say ‘Not me!’

I scoff at how they’re talking about me while I’m standing right here. “Hello! Why can’t I get my own room since I’m the only girl!”

I’m ignored.

“Let’s play rock paper scissors for the room,” Matt suggests, making Chris roll up his sweatshirt sleeves as if he’s preparing. 

Matt wins. 

Chris’ eyes shoot open. “Best two out of three.” 

“Nope,” Matt says as he grabs his room key off the desk and heads to the elevator. 

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I mumble, walking behind Chris and following him to our shared room. 

I would have been quiet so Nick could work, but he was so adamant about being alone that I never even got the chance to suggest that alternative. This stupid room situation is just the fucking icing on the cake after the car ride with Chris. It’s no surprise that my luck would put me in the same room as him somehow. 

I brace myself for when Chris opens the door, expecting only one thing because it’s the obvious, but I still pray for a miracle. 

No miracle.

There’s one bed. 

I toss my bags on the bed before he can. “Dibs,” I call out immediately.

Chris kicks his shoes off. “That’s not fair. How are you gonna dibs a bed? Where am I supposed to sleep?”

I point to the balcony. “Out there. Just pray a rabid squirrel doesn’t bite you while you sleep.” 

He fake smiles at me. “Very funny. You’re lucky I’m too fucking tired after the ride to argue with you.” He flashes his phone screen at me, revealing the time. 2:12 a.m. We left at night to try to beat any traffic and so we could have an extra full day in San Diego. “Let’s just go to bed and hope we’re too tired to realize what a shitty situation this is.” 

I dig out some clothes from inside a duffel bag I brought, trying to find something to wear as pajamas. Since I was under the assumption I would be in my own room, I didn’t pack any pajama shorts or even athletic shorts that would do the job. I usually just sleep with a big shirt and underwear, and this was certainly not what I was anticipating. 

I let out a sigh and turn around to face Chris. I hate asking for his help. 

“Do you have any shorts or sweatpants I can wear to bed?”

He looks at me like he’s confused by my question. His tiny brain cells can usually only handle sentences with five words or less.

“Why didn’t you pack any?” he asks me instead. 

“Because I normally sleep half naked, which I’m not doing with you here. So can I please wear shorts or something of yours to bed?” 

He grins. “Say please again and maybe I’ll think about it.” 

“I’ll scrub the toilet with your toothbrush while you sleep,” I threaten. 

He reaches down and tosses me a pair of his boxers. “I would give you basketball shorts but they wouldn’t fit you. Plus I only have my celtics ones and they’re too nice for you to fuck up.” 

I take his boxers and stand with my clothes in my hands, looking at him. 

He looks at me like he has a problem with me. “Do you need anything else?” he says in a snippy tone. 

“Go to the bathroom,” I instruct him. 

“Why?”

“So I can change?” I say as a question, shocked and confused at how stupid he can be sometimes. 

He rolls his eyes and crouches to his bag. “I’m not fucking looking. Just change.”

In an attempt to withhold us from fighting in the first ten minutes of us being here, I sigh and turn around, facing the curtains covering the window. I peel my shirt off and toss it on a chair, putting on an old t-shirt instead. I turn around quickly, making sure Chris isn’t watching. He’s sitting on his phone. I yank my pants off and tug on his boxers before he has a chance to peek.

“You done?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’ll go to the bathroom so you can change.” 

I grab my toiletries bag so I can brush my teeth and wash my face while I’m in there, but as I make my way to the door, Chris steps in front of me. Looking at me, he pulls his shirt off from over his head. “That’s all I have to do. Now I’m dressed for bed.”

Do not look at his body. Do NOT look at his body.

“I still have to go to the bathroom,” I say anyway. 

He gestures his hands to my destination and follows me in, brushing his teeth alongside me and watching me as I do my skincare. Before I have a chance to snap at him and tell him to go away, he does just that. I almost ask him why he did leave, throwing myself off. I shouldn’t care. I don’t care.

He’s laying on our bed. I have to remind myself that this is just a shitty situation before sliding in next to him, still keeping a distance. We sit in silence for some time, both of us still scrolling aimlessly on our phones, trying to distract ourselves so we don’t have to talk. Finally, I have enough of the silence, and I am suddenly on the hunt for answers.

I turn over in bed, now facing him. He side eyes me as he notices my change in position. “Do you need something else?” he asks.

“Why are you so mean to me?”

He lowers his phone from his gaze momentarily as he thinks. He settles on, “You’re mean to me too.”

“It’s different,” I argue.

“This is just how I am,” he continues. “I act this way with my brothers. Maybe you’re just not used to it yet.” 

“It’s still different, Chris.”

He shrugs, not saying anything else, so I do.

“I feel like we could get along well but you don’t give me the chance. You never noticed we have the same taste in music and a lot of other similar interests? It’s like you don’t want to admit we could have something in common and I don’t know why.”

“I’m not petty like that,” he says instead. “I’m not going to blow you off because I don’t want us to have the same interests.”

“Then what is it,” I continue to push him. 

“Can you just shut up and go to bed?” he snaps.

I seriously couldn’t have had a worse roommate. 

I turn over, finding myself back in silence. 

“Are you going to need my boxers every night while we’re here?” he asks. 

“I mean, this is all I’ve got, so yeah,” I answer without turning around. 

It’s silent for a good 30 seconds before Chris breaks it. 

“Why don’t you just keep them?”

My eyebrows furrow, my expression bold even though he can’t see my face. “Why?”

“They look good,” he mumbles.

“Huh?” 

“You heard me.”

“I literally didn’t doofus that’s why I said huh?”

“I said they look good on you!” 

My stomach flips.

Motherfucker. 

“You want me to keep them?” I ask for clarification.

“I’m just trying to be nice,” he defends. “Don’t try to make it something it’s not. But even if I was trying to turn it into something else, you know you look good.”

Oh my god.

No, he needs to stop. 

I turn around so I can face him again. “You think I look good?”

He rolls his eyes so hard this time that his head shifts. “Oh shut up.”

The more I stare at him to try to dissect his answer, the more I see his face turning a darker shade of red. 

“Oh my god! You’re blushing!” I tease.

He sits up straight. “Am not!” 

“You are too!” I laugh, pointing at him.

He smacks my hand away. “Stop it!”

Everything suddenly clicks. Every time he was mean to me. Every time he called me names. 

But there were also the times he would stand in a corner with eyes shooting daggers when I would talk about a guy.

Everything makes sense. 

“You like me,” I piece together.

“Do not,” he lies. “You wish.”

“I don’t have to wish because you do!”

“You’re being childish,” he says, bold coming from him. 

“Just admit it so I can go to bed.”

Without an answer he shoves his hand into my shoulder, pushing me away from him. I do the same back, but when I expect him to do it again, he grabs my wrist and yanks me towards him instead.

We both halt before our faces touch.

I watch him gulp.

“Tell me not to do it,” he practically begs.

I know exactly what he’s talking about. I know we shouldn’t but I sort of just want to know what would happen. Would anything come out of it? Would we both decide it was stupid and we won’t talk about it ever again and swear it won’t leave this hotel room.

“I could do it instead,” I suggest.

He clearly doesn’t expect this from me. His eyes were somewhere else until I finished my sentence. That’s when they flew to meet mine. 

He gives me one last look before grabbing my cheeks and pulling me into him. I fall forward, wrapping my arms around him for support before my lips settle into his. We mesh together perfectly, a long peck before our lips part and he’s trying to snake his tongue into my mouth. I let him, and I don’t even notice when one of my hands rakes through his hair. 

One of his hands drifts down my body, clinging to my waist. His thumb plays with the band of his own underwear hugging my body. 

I don’t know how long we have been doing this. All I’m focusing on is the few sounds that come out of our mouths, little moans and deep breaths, others being the sound of our lips fighting for dominance. Then there’s the sound of slight creaks in the bed as we shift around.

I’m caught by surprise when he pulls me into his lap, but thank god he does. I don’t move around on him. I don’t grind my hips into his. I don’t try to feel how big he is underneath his clothing.

I sit there with my arms around him, a lustful makeout turning into soft kisses again as he holds my cheeks, his thumbs stroking my face. 

I pull away for a moment to catch my breath, and I watch his face fall.

“I’m sorry,” he says immediately. “I shouldn’t have done that. Oh my god that was so fucking stupid.” He runs his hands through his hair in frustration, but all I’m focused on is how his biceps flexed in the process.

I pull his arms back down, a measly excuse to have my hands on the toned muscle, but also to comfort him. “Hey, it’s fine. Why don’t we just go to bed, and we can talk about this tomorrow?” 

He takes a moment to think before he nods, placing a kiss on my cheek before letting me lay down next to him. Our backs face each other. We both stare at the wall in our direction, our heads clouded with thoughts. 

After some time, when I was positive he was asleep, I feel the bed shift as he flips over, his body now facing the same way as mine. 

His pinky hooks with mine in the softest grip. 

I let his hand linger, taking it slow before I drive this car off a cliff.

I face him, looking down at his chest before I place my head on it and kick my leg to lay over his. Our bodies cling to each other immediately. He holds me like he’s scared of letting go.

I can’t get over how good this feels. Just laying here with him.

But I also know tomorrow could be a shit show after these events, so I have just tonight to bask in this before it all goes to shit. 

[trivia-yandere]

tape

before leaving for college jungkook doesn't know when he'll see you again after this week and wants something to remember you by… @mother2monsters @darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @momnomnom @yoongiwantsme @chimmisbae @whipwhoops @prettyxxxplease

word count: 1.969

warning: car sex, pseudo incest, oral sex, smut, dirty talking, protected/unprotected sex, coercion, handjob, manipulation, creampie, video taping, dub-con,

series masterlist | part one | part three

“You don’t have to record everything.” you say, panting. Your eyes, glossy and full of tears, glance up at Jungkook who’s heaving. “You have enough content.”

Jungkook blinks his eyes a bit to look at you - cheeks puffy, eyes glossy and lips wet with saliva. Your hand softly strokes his cock as you await your answer. 

“Of course I do.” Jungkook responds. He places his hand on top of your head, glancing up at the camera shining directly at the two of you. “Who knows when we’ll be doing this next.”

Jungkook loved taking pictures of you - he made it a routine. It was easier, of course, because you were his (step) sister. He took pictures of you randomly around the house, sometimes some of you and him together. At school when the two of you were together, he’d snap some pictures and it was never considered weird because you were his sister.

Some pictures were just for Jungkook’s eyes only - the ones where he would sneak up on you in the shower or the pictures he would capture while you were beneath him. You allowed him to take pictures of your naked body because he promised it was just for him to see - and it was kept privately hidden deep in his phone that only he had the access to.

Jungkook wanted something to remember you by - something that he could look back on. It wasn’t like you had an illness that was so incurable that you’d die - or that he was going off to war to never see you again. You and he were both going to college; separate ones. 

And as months went by and graduation had come and gone, he knew he only had a limited amount of time with you.

Jungkook wanted more and more pictures and videos of you - whatever he could get. He took every chance he got to shine his camera in your face especially while you were so fucked out and moaning his name desperately. 

Tonight was no different. This was going to be your last night with Jungkook and then you’d be on your way off to prepare for your college move-in day and soon, he’d do the same. 

You snicker. “We won’t be doing this again.” you say, feeling his lips kiss on your neck. “I’m going to college and so are you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Jungkook murmurs. He’s glad that you’ve already discarded your shorts long ago - all he had to do was push your panties aside or rip them off (whichever was easier). “You’re only a three hour drive away.”

“Driving three hours away for pussy is insane.” you respond, feeling Jungkook’s hands slide down your back to cup your ass. Your tongue swirls on the tip of his cock, eyebrows raising.

“Allowing me to fuck you in my car in the middle of an empty parking lot is also insane.” Jungkook retorts with a sudden chuckle. He licks his lips as he watches you. “Allowing me to fuck you at all is insane…yet we do it.”

You roll your eyes but even you could agree with Jungkook. You had allowed him to get away with a lot - taking your virginity months prior was one of them; allowing him to continue to fuck you was another. 

But you told yourself that this was just something you were going to do for now and take to your grave - as would Jungkook. 

You don’t respond and instead decide it was better to continue your sucking. You take Jungkook back fully into your mouth.

You recall the first time you’ve done this and how horribly it was. But that didn’t make you stop - you were determined to know how to do so before college and Jungkook was the perfect candidate. “Add a little pressure to it…” Jungkook had said, wrapping his own hand around yours to guide you. He then begins to guide your closed fist up and down onto his cock. “You don’t have to go too fast, but anything slower than this is a bore…” he instructs, eyelids watching you as you get the hang of how exactly he wanted you to jack him.

Jungkook adored having to teach you how to pleasure him - you were such a curious person and naturally, like him, always strived to be better. It was a matter of time until you knew exactly what to do with your hands and mouth to get his toes curling and his legs shaking.

You bring Jungkook out of your mouth to pump him a bit - your touch was his favorite. Your hands are always soft and gentle, even when you wrap them firmly around his cock. Your tongue circles the tip of his cock, eyes watching his every reaction. You run your tongue over the swollen head, passing his slit with each lick. You enjoyed watching Jungkook become the submissive one who depended on you for pleasure - thighs shaking, mouth agape and releasing such filthy moans. 

There’s a salty taste on your tongue and you know it’s precum instantly. 

“You’re teasing me.” Jungkook grumbles, gripping your hair slightly. 

“We have all night.” you say, muffled. “What’s the rush?”

“I want to fuck you now.” Jungkook responds, voice deep and pleading. “We have to be home in an hour anyways. You know how dad is.”

You release the tip and watch his cock spring back, pre-cum and saliva dripping from it. “Fine.” you tell Jungkook, already lifting from your position to sit in his lap. “Where’s the condom?”

Jungkook always came prepared, going through his pockets to remove the small, golden square package. He hastily rips it open and discards the package lazily beside him. You’re hovering above him, waiting for him to put the condom on.

“Okay.” Jungkook places his hands upon your hips, guiding you down towards his cock. 

You release a low sigh when Jungkook enters you fully, your walls automatically clenching around him. Even with the amount of times the two of you had fucked, you could never become accustomed to him inside of you.

Jungkook, however, is inpatient. He wastes no time in placing his hand beneath your thighs and thrusting upwards. He assures you’re in line of vision with the camera - he needed good material masturbation while you were away.

Jungkook is a greedy person, he wants all of you. As he continues his thrusting inside of you, your breast bounces in his face, the tank top not being able to hold them any longer. As your breast spills out, Jungkook takes the opportunity to pop a nipple into his mouth.

“You’re so deep…” you moan, your nails digging into Jungkook’s shoulders for support. His breathing increases, his tongue suckling on your nipples needily and his hands go to grip your ass.

Jungkook pushes you away slightly, you now lean between the passenger and driver seats. Jungkook groans as he watches you - so fucked out and full of lust. He begins to thrust, his hand against your stomach for support.

“Your pussy’s so wet, Y/N.” Jungkook scoffs, eyes glancing at how good you were milking him; it’s almost a shame he wore a condom. He couldn’t imagine how heavenly you felt bare. “It’s because you love me that it’s like this.”

Jungkook loves touching your bare skin and his hands never settle on anything for long. He grips your breast as he fucks into you, he holds your neck, your waist - whatever. Now, his hands trails down slowly, thumb pressing firmly against your clit. 

Jungkook hisses, “So, so, wet.” he twirls his thumb against your clit, only fucking into you deeper. “Aren’t you going to miss me, Y/N? You’ll be going to college and sex would never be the same with anyone else.”

Maybe Jungkook was selfish, he’s admitting to it. But he could never fathom anyone else having you in these positions - no other man getting to have their face between your legs or getting to touch the soft, gentle skin of your body. Another guy didn’t deserve to feel how wet and tight you were, or hear your soft, sweet moans.

You yelp when you feel a hand around your neck - and it causes you to clench even tighter around Jungkook. He was angered now at just the thought of you leaving him and allowing someone else to do what he could do to you with such love and care. 

“You’re such a whore, Y/N.” Jungkook grunts, pounding into you angrily. Your moans increase, along with the squelching of your pussy. “How many guys are you planning on fucking?”

Jungkook’s grip on your neck grows tighter at your response. “However many I feel like.”

You loved teasing Jungkook ever since the pair of you were children. He rarely gave you a reaction until now and you were going to milk it. 

“So does anyone get to feel your pussy?” Jungkook snarls, releasing your neck to hoist you back up. Your arms are holding the passenger seat for support. “I always knew you’d grow up to be a bitch.”

Jungkook’s insult don’t faze you, maybe because he was fucking you entirely too well. You have no control whatsoever and Jungkook has it all. He thrusts roughly inside of you, dark eyes shining in lust and anger; jealousy. His hands roam your body, gripping your breast and suckling your nipples. He bites along your neck and shoulders, hands gripping and slapping your skin.

There’s a kiss pressed firmly against your lips; deep and full of greed. Even now, Jungkook cannot fathom to think about someone else kissing your lips and it angers him to know that it’s something you’re going to allow.

“I want to cum inside of you.” Jungkook releases your lips and pushes you off of him. 

You stumble in the backseat, eyes widening at his request. 

“You can’t-”

“Why not?” Jungkook is already pulling the condom off of him. “It’s not fair you wouldn’t let me. I love you.”

Jungkook discards the condom out of the car carelessly. “Don’t you love me?” Jungkook asks with a tilt of his head. “If you’re going to have sex in college, I should at least be the first one to feel you bare.”

Jungkook hovers above you, wrapping you in an embrace. Your back is towards him and his hand dips between your legs to rub along your clit. Your mind is hazy and you don’t realize that Jungkook is already inching inside of you.

“Your pussy feels so good, Y/N. You love me, right? You’d let me…” Jungkook trails off, entering deeper inside of you. His body shudders at the new feeling that the condom wasn’t allowing him to endure. 

Jungkook begins to thrust, his twirling of your clit never ceasing. Your walls tighten around him heavenly that he never wants this to end. If he could fuck into you like this - raw - the entire night, he would. It’s something he deserved - he was the only person who would ever truly love you.

“Doesn’t it feel good, Y/N?” Jungkook murmurs against your ear.

You nod your head hastily. The feeling is new; better. You never felt Jungkook’s bare skin inside of you and now with direct skin to skin, the euphoric sensation increases tremendously. 

Jungkook isn’t going to last long - not when there’s mountains of senses going through him. “Come,” he murmurs against your ear.

You turn your head to face Jungkook and instantly, he presses his lips against yours. His thrusts are sloppy and he’s determined to make you cum alongside him, rubbing along your clit hastily until he feels you trembling beneath him.

Jungkook never came so hard in his life. He’s twitching inside of you, cum reaching deep and even then, the pair of you never cease from kissing.

series masterlist

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ FATHERLY COMPETITION — GETO SUGURU.

contents. non curse au, girl dad! suguru ft the twins, fem! + mother! reader, satoru is megumi’s father <3, silly lil family shenanigans and suguru having a one sided rivalry w satoru bc he’s a bum like that

suguru loves being a father—it’s just as they say it is. one day, you’re free and young and opposed to the idea of being tied down, and then the next second you’re cradling two newborns that make you want to dig to the earth’s core with your bare hands, all for the tiny humans in front of you.

he loves his two girls—they make the world go around and the stars come out and they make something as bright as the sun look dull and lifeless compared to those sweet smiles. but sometimes, he’d really appreciate being able to sleep in on a saturday morning.

“daddy, wake up,” there’s a poke to his cheek. mimiko is at least gentle with her disruptions—nanako has simply taken to jumping on the mattress by his feet.

“daddy, you promised,” nanako whines—it’s makes you stir with a soft groan, eyes opening to peer up at the two (very cute) troublemakers in your bed.

“what’d you promise this time, suguru?” you raise a brow, making him sigh as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

“said i’d take them to the zoo,” he grunts, “but it’s not open for—” he looks at the time on his phone. seven thirty two am. “for another two and a half hours.”

“girls,” you start, “we have to wait a bit. why don’t you go back to bed—”

“we can stay here, mommy!” nanako brightens, squeezing between you and suguru to wrap her arms around your neck.

it’s cute, you suppose. it’s always endearing to be snuggled up by one of your little girls, but something tells you that you won’t be sleeping again any time soon. so you sigh, turning towards suguru and wrapping nanako in your arms as suguru does the same with mimiko and gives you an amused grin.

“i think we spoil them,” he murmurs, making you scoff.

“you spoil them. i’m the voice of reason in this household.”

“so now it’s a crime to give your kids fun family experiences that not everyone is fortunate enough to have—”

“you know what the not so generous parents out there probably have more than us? sleep.”

“that’s probably true,” he mutters, yawning before he presses a gentle kiss to mimiko’s forehead. “but at least we’re the world’s coolest parents. right girls?”

“megumi is going to the beach today,” nanako says as a matter of factly, “his dad is super cool.”

“and funny,” mimiko adds.

suguru’s face sours at that—you try your best not to giggle.

“oh so now satoru is cooler than me? he shouldn’t even be trusted near the ocean with children, they’ll drown—”

“satoru is careful,” you chuckle, “well….most of the time.”

“okay,” suguru raises a brow, looking expectantly at nanako, “but has satoru ever taken megumi ice skating? bet he hasn’t done that—”

“yeah they did,” nanako says instantly, “that’s why we asked to go.”

“well have they gone to the zoo?” he asks petulantly. she nods, and his lips curl into a pout.

suguru looks positively fumed at the idea that his best friend seems to be cooler in the eyes of his own children. you can practically watch the gears work in his head before he looks smugly over at the blonde girl curled up against your chest.

“okay, but have they ever been to a petting zoo?” he raises a brow, “there’s a difference.”

the two girls exchange a look before slowly, the excitement creeps up on their faces as they look at him in disbelief. suguru looks hopelessly smug with himself.

“you mean we can pet the animals?” nanako asks in wonder.

“yup,” suguru nods, grinning widely. you snort at his petty one sided competition.

“can i pet a giraffe?” mimiko asks, poking his arm as he nods excitedly.

“yeah, and you can feed it too.”

they squeal at that—and if suguru throws you a look of pure victory on his face, you decide not to ruin his moment just yet. because you already know it won’t last long until—

“what about whales? can we pet those too?”

“and a shark?”

“i wanna pet a tiger!”

“well, i don’t think those are really the safest options for a petting—”

“daddy, you’re so cool,” they gasp. suguru gives you a look that screams for help, but you only giggle, pecking nanako on the forehead as you send a sly wink to your husband.

“you are so cool,” you agree, “i can’t wait to see the tigers we can pet.”

he looks at you with betrayal in his eyes as the pout returns on his lips. “i trusted you,” he huffs.

“that was your fault,” you grin cheekily. it’s all a bit funny at his expense—but you also can’t help but be endeared at the way suguru does his best. for your girls. for you. for your sweet little family. so you take mercy on him, turning to your daughters as you murmur, “i think you’re a bit too young for those animals right now. let’s start small, yeah?”

they nod along, and you and suguru share an amused look. and then—

“make sure you guys tell megumi all about your trip next time you see him, okay?”

suguru be bragging to satoru like “my kids went to the petting zoo” and satoru’s clueless ass is like “oh !! that’s so nice !! i’m taking my kids to disney !!”

[venusiansilk]

‎‎ ꒰ you ask satoru for a favor without greeting him first. ꒱

ᴍᴅɴɪ. no gendered terms. canon au. fluff. est rel. 0.7k. sfw.

although satoru's always known you’re a stubborn brat, he absolutely loathes when you don’t greet him but meet him with requests and gentle demands. “baby, i need a favor.” you spout as soon as you gain proximity to him in the courtyard. you haven’t even made it all the way to him before you’re blurting it out at him and he looks at you as if you’ve repulsed him. “try again.” he tells you sternly. grinning at his response, you quickly adjust your demeanor and give him the twinkling eyes you know he’s weak to. “hi, my toru.” “better. hi, my baby.” satoru leans down to press a gentle kiss to your nose. “what’s the favor?” “my student has a crush on megumi and they’re not quite ready to act on it yet, but i want them to at least be able to talk to him, you know? maybe exchange numbers with him? and…well…you lived with him? and he’s your student?” his brow quirks in surprise. “that’s…not what i was expecting. well, what do they even see in him?” “maybe it’s the dead stare.” you reason with a shrug.

“yuuji or even toge i could almost understand, but megumi is…so aloof.” satoru muses. he shakes the thought away after a moment. “which of your students wants a shot with my prickly pear?” “sato akira. she’s a bit on the shyer side, but i really want to see her blossom this year, so please help me. please, please, please.” satoru scoffs, appalled you’d ask him for a thing without a reasonable offer to exchange. “and just what do i get out of it? you being pretty isn’t gonna cut it this time, sweetheart.”  “desserts on me.” an easy counter. humming, he contemplates before gently shaking his head. “i can get my own desserts. you’ll have to do better than that.” “no, no,” your soft chuckle coupled with an amused smile. “desserts on me,” not a drop of hesitation remaining, satoru nods viciously and chirps, “okay, i’ll help! whatever my baby needs.” “thank you, i missed you.” your hands slide into both of his. “did you miss me?” you ask it cutely, swaying your arms as you tug him closer to you with a satisfied and flirty smile, always cheeky in how you choose to adore him but it's always a moment of sweetness satoru indulges in greedily. he kisses you three times in a row. “you know i did. missed you every second you were gone, but i wish you would have started with that, you little brat.” “sorry,” your sheepish voice sweeps into a devout promise and an ardent declaration. “i won’t do it again, baby. i was just excited. i love you.” “love you,” he tugs your hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “you busy anymore? can i have you for the day?” a nod. “i do need to do some grading, but i can do it next to you, i suppose. also, you know you don’t have to ask. all my free time is yours.” “arguably the hottest thing i’ve heard today.” mumbled as he kisses your knuckles tenderly. “can you go to the store with me? i wanna pick my sweet treats to eat off your delectable body and i have to replace the strawberries i ate.” “you need to stop eating my fruit without asking when you come over.” you chastise him, a gentle fist against his chest. “irrelevant,” he pouts, pulling you into his torso, long arms weaving around your frame. “you coming with me, baby?” “we need to make a list beforehand. you know i can’t do a grocery store free-for-all with you. we’ll be there for hours. and i already told you my free time is yours so don’t be needy.” you smile adoringly as you say it and satoru can’t help the way he mirrors it. a part of him never thought he’d see the day he was finally able to make it work with another person and dance to the same tune. the strongest is so used to being the loneliest, but the love nestled between you both feels unwavering and indissoluble to him. satoru grumbles under his breath, “i’ll be what i want. you’re mine.”

© 2024 venusiansilk. all rights reserved.

[11vr1]

Been Away ⭒ Miles Morales

Synopsis › You were tired of his secrets and lies, so you did the one thing you promised you’d never do and walked away. But Miles Morales wasn’t going to let you go so easily.

Pairing › Earth-42! Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

Inspo › “Been Away” - Brent Faiyaz

Includes › ATSV SPOILERS, Angst, the tiniest bit of fluff, pet names, spanish, a microscopic amount of manipulation, toxicity, going back to your ex, stalking, harassment, mentions being mugged, mentions being stabbed, mentions the police

P.S. › I do my best work when I’m sleep deprived.

P.S.S. › Reading comments and reblogs really make my day, even if you’re telling me my commas suck. Requests are also open.

Y/n pulled down the sleeves of her crocheted sweater as she stepped out of the bodega, white plastic bag of chips and candy in hand. The sun was close to setting behind skyscrapers and plunging New York City into its usual state of terror. It was dangerous to be alone on the streets, but Y/n figured she’d be fine walking a few blocks to her friend’s place. She pushed through sidewalk traffic, passing others who were just as eager to be safe in their homes.

Her phone chimed with a text.

Unknown: Turn left.

She paused, looking up to scan her surroundings. There was nothing strange or out of place. Just stores closing up for the night and people minding their own business. Despite how normal everything seemed to be, Y/n knew better. She spared a glance at the alley to her left, immediately deciding against it and kept walking.

Another chime. She ignored it and the next. Stopping wasn’t worth possibly ending up on the eleven o’clock news. At least that’s what she told herself. The less rational part of her mind had a thought. In some ways more terrifying than being mugged.

Tucked away in her pocket, her phone rang. This time she checked. Unknown. Y/n scoffed, rejecting the call.

Unknown: One more chance.

Unknown: Take a left.

Unknown: I won’t ask again.

Her phone rang once more. With a long, begrudging sigh Y/n swiped to accept. “I thought you weren’t going to ask again,” she said, her eyes darting warily to the darkening street.

“Make a left, Y/n,” a deep distorted voice ordered from the other line. Her heart dropped. Maybe the irrational part of her brain wasn’t as off kilter as she thought. The call hung up like she didn’t need anymore convincing.

The yawning mouth of an alley stared back at her. She took a calming breath, inhaling the morning rain before stepping away from any potential witnesses. Her footsteps echoed in the eerie silence of the alley. Her skin heated in either fear or anticipation, she didn’t know. “I don’t have all night,” she spoke into the open air. “I will leave.” Y/n attempted to hide the tremble in her throat.

Her ringtone was shrill in the alley. She jumped. The bright smiling photo of her friend illuminated her face. She did not hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“Thank god! You’re still alive. Are you close?”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, Ellie,” Y/n began to exit the alley. “The bodega line was long.” She rustled her haul of snacks.

“It’s getting dark. I can send my brother to meet you. Ya know he’s always had a bit of a thing for you and now that you’re single…” Ellie trailed off. Y/n could practically hear her smile.

She rolled her eyes, laughing nervously, “You don’t have to make him come get me. I’ll be—” She was cut off by her own scream ripping from her throat. A streak of darkness and neon flashed in front of her, swiping the phone from her hand. Her grocery bag tumbled to the concrete as she stumbled over her heels. Cold metal met her back. A well defined arm snaked around her waist, held her impossibly tight.

“Y/n? Y/n!” Her friend’s voice rose over the speakers.

The smooth phone screen pressed against her cheek. “Tell her you’re okay then hang up,” the same warped voice demanded in her ear.

Y/n felt her lips move before he ended the call. Some quick lie about a monstrous rat. Blood thrummed through her skull along with her ragged breaths.

“Let me go!” Y/n wrestling out of his grip with no resistance, finally turning around. She halted. Pixelated eyes narrowed at her. What had she been expecting? Was a mask better?

Getting slashed for the money in her wallet and being left for dead by a dumpster was starting to sound more appealing than her current situation.

Mechanic panels whirred and parted open. Rich, penetrating dark eyes took in every inch of the girl in front of him, peeling back layer after layer in that calculating glare Y/n knew all too well. “Hola, mami.”

She hoped to never hear that name fall from anyone’s lips. Much less his. Y/n allowed a selfish moment to let her gaze wander. His braids were fresh, obviously not her work. Fade clean. Jay’s untied. Bronze skin annoyingly flawless. He was the same, except for the faint bags decorating his eyes. His chuckle bounced off the brick walls, catching her. It was sobering.

“You have one minute, Morales. One minute before I run screaming and call the feds on your ass,” she crossed her arms.

“Morales?” Miles raised an eyebrow. “Damn. Is that what we doin’ now?”

“Fifty.”

He circled her like the predator he was, each footstep deafening. “You look good, ma. Where you goin’ so late? It’s not safe.”

“You know where! You’ve been following me, remember? How long have you been doing that for? Just another secret, huh?” Y/n was on the verge of yelling, her initial fear replaced by pure rage. “You’re not even going to deny it.”

Miles dared a step forward. Y/n took two back. “You’re afraid of me.” Her lack of an answer was a shattering confirmation.

“I’m afraid of what you do, Miles,” she motioned to his suit, the spray painted insignia physically painful to see on his chest. The Prowler. She would have never fathomed the possibility if she hadn’t seen him in action herself. “You’re a criminal. You steal. You’ve killed people,” she choked trying to swallow back tears.

He dragged a gloved hand down his face. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right! I don’t get it. You changed and I don’t understand why.” Her waterline welled. Three months of suppressed feelings threatened to rear their ugly heads when he was near. Because of him, of course.

It was ironic how much he made her feel, even now. Ellie, other friends, Y/n’s family never fully warmed up to Miles. He was unfeeling, nonchalant, closed off. They couldn’t see how a girl like her could fall for him and stay. At least that’s the promise she made.

“So did you. You walked away. Left me. What happened to our forever, Y/n?”

“You expected nothing to change? In what world would I not react or feel some typa way?” She tensed. Another wave of anger seared through her veins. How dare he turn this on her? “Oh wait,” her laugh was humorless. “I was never supposed to find out.”

“I have to do this. The world ain’t right and I need to protect the people I care about,” he placed a hand over his armor, over his chest. “I couldn’t do shit about my dad, but you…” He stalked closer. This time she didn’t back away.

Miles grasped her hand, placing it over his heart. She couldn’t face his intensity for too long, not without air. He wore the same musky cologne she gifted him for Christmas.“Mirame,” he tilted her delicate face towards him. “Mi corazón, I can keep you safe. You gotta let me. If something happened to you I don’t know what I would do.” His chiseled features twisted, barely able to utter the words. He finally closed the space between them, resting his forehead against hers.

“One minute,” Y/n whispered. It had been more than one minute.

Without separating, he slowly slipped her phone into her back pocket, letting his fingers linger by the waist of her jeans. “Call them. I’ll stay right here and you can end this. You’ll never have to see me again. Prometo, mi corazón.”

She should have listened when Ellie told her to stay away. Undeniably gorgeous, genius level intellect, sexy accent. There was always a catch, she said. She was right. But there was one drawback not even her best friend predicted.

Y/n pulled away. Suddenly the autumn air was too chilly through her sweater. She unlocked her phone. Typed 9-1-1. She looked up through her lashes at Miles as if he would melt into the shadows and escape. She didn’t expect sheer defeat to paint his face, unhidden behind his usual mask of indifference. Her thumb froze.

Miles Morales had Y/n entranced. He’d woven himself into her being, hollowed out a space in her soul just for him. Those titanium claws were in deep and she didn’t know if she had the strength to pry them out or wanted to.

Y/n pocketed her phone. She resigned to every emotion she harbored for the boy in front of her. She chose every wrong decision. “Go, Miles.”

His grin was smug. “Should I call you?”

“Don’t push it, Morales.” He draped his arms around her shoulders, dragged her into his warmth. “I’ll unblock you. Sound good?”

Miles angled his head. His smile stretched to his eyes, showing those rarely seen dimples. “Sí, mami. Whatever you want.”

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 2 ] || [ Chapter 4 ]

Pairing: Ghost x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: some sexual jokes/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 3: Simon

After doing the dishes, you moved yourself over to the living room and turned on the TV. Some rerun of an older season of Law and Order was playing.

You started watching but you found your eyes drifting back to your phone… 

Against your better judgement, you clicked on the Tinder app icon again. Maybe, maybe you should swipe just a little more.

And so you did. 

Today you said ‘Fuck you, Beyoncé’ and always went to the Right, to the Right. 

Just as you were pondering another profile, the screen darkened with a ‘It’s a Match!’ notification, making you jump a bit, as usual.

You clicked the profile and your brow scrunched. 

You didn’t remember liking this one… Though you obviously did, after all, you were liking everyone.

The only picture wasn’t even anything. It was dark and grainy and the man was wearing a black disposable face mask. If that even was him. Could just be a random picture off-Google, picked by someone who wanted to be anonymous. Not quite a catfish but close enough…

“Simon.” You said softly and dragged your finger through the screen to read his bio. For a moment you couldn’t help but smirk a little. He was sarcastic, a bit strange, but charismatic in his own way.

“Bad jokes, Bourbon, Discreet…” You mused while scanning his profile. “Tall enough.” You read aloud and couldn’t help but laugh at it. That made you feel like he was short.

Against your better judgement for the second time, you decided to send him a DM instead of waiting for him to. Something told you he wouldn’t.

you: tall enough - does that mean you’re below 6ft?

Simon: No.

Simon: Means that I have inches to spare.

you: was that a dick joke?

Simon: No.

Simon: Unless you wanted it to be.

You snorted softly under your breath. Of course he was a smart ass too…

you: ambiguous, i like it.

you: so how tall are you then?

Simon: Does it matter?

you: no. just curious.

Simon: 6ft4.

you: that feels like a lie.

Simon: I avoided putting it for a reason.

you: worried people would call you a liar?

Simon: No use. Going to be called it regardless.

you: that’s fair ig.

you: what’s a traveling consultant?

Simon: Similar to a contractor. Get brought in to help businesses all over the world.

you: what kind of businesses?

Simon: That’s need-to-know.

you: you type so formally and professionally jeez.

you: will i ever get to know?

Simon: Force of habit. Don’t text a lot.

Simon: Not if I can help it.

you: somehow i can tell.

you: what are you doing here then?

Simon: Curiosity mostly.

you: trying to see if you attract any fish? 👀

Simon: Something like that. A friend is on here. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about.

you: i see.

you: got anything yet?

Simon: No. But only created this 12 minutes ago.

you: am i your first then?

Simon: Not my first in anything, love.

Your eyes widened a bit and for some reason you found yourself getting a bit flustered, your face warming up just a bit.

you: does that mean you’ve hooked up with people through a dating app before?

Simon: Something of the sorts.

you: aw, im really not going to be your first.

Simon: That’s alright. You can come see me either way.

Simon: I’m sure you’ll find some other thing to be the first at.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you started sputtering. That came out of left field! He had gone from professional and mild-mannered to… flirty so quickly! Gulping, you tried to answer him with something coherent and funny.

you: idk what if you murder me?

Simon: I promise I won’t.

you: is that meant to be enough to convince me? 🤨

Simon: I’ll leave all my guns at home.

you: the fact you have more than one is not reassuring the way you think it is.

Simon: If it makes it any better, I wouldn’t need a gun to kill you.

Even though you don’t know this man, you can imagine that he’s laughing to himself behind his phone screen, all smug, thinking he’s funny. And, the worst part, is that he is.

you: reassuring. thanks.

Simon: Glad to be of service.

you: i think what makes it worse is that uve not got a pic of ur face.

Simon: Wouldn’t hook up with a bloke with his face covered?

you: no? are u trying to get me axe murdered? bc thats how u get axe murdered simon

Simon: LOL.

Simon: No.

you: u sure? a masked face with a mysterious job and a suspicious amount of guns… sounds like the upgraded version of ghostface… except online rather than over the phone.

Simon: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Simon: You’re funny. 

Simon: I like that.

you: thanks. 

Simon: Wondering if you’re that funny in real life or if you’d get all shy on me.

you: probably a mix of both.

Simon: How about we confirm that then? 

Simon: Meet up with me for drinks. No pressure on time or place. You can even postpone if it comes down to it. My job is unpredictable enough so I might have to postpone too.

Your eyes widened. The first attempt at flirting from him, of inviting you for a shag, had been clearly sarcastic… But this one is genuine.

you: ill get back to u on that, is that okay?

Simon: No sweat.

Simon: And if you’re just being polite and not actually going to text me again then: This was fun. Enjoyed myself. Take care.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile when you saw his polite goodbye. He was… sweet, weirdly enough.

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