#but implying that something did made me laugh

[reshinless]

Hear me out..Jealous!kinich x reader smut...also I love your writing style it makes me wanna explode🤭

──── bet you feel it now, baby

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. you didn't have to laugh that hard at his joke. it wasn't even that funny. he's better, it's fine, he'll just show you how much better he is.

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader, !!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. posting wip list in a bit plus brief overview of 800 special fic (it'll probably be genshin/hsr :3)

۪ ⠀✧ warnings. possessive behavior (kinich), jalosi /j, kinda ass/pussy eating (see to it however you like, i used no real specific term, reader is blindfolded for some parts, jealous behavior, rough sex, sex itself, y'all get walked in on (be ready for this to be implied into more of my kinich works LOL), establish relationship

"ahhn- kinich i said 'm sorry.. pleasef- slow down!" your face in the pillows, your words muffled and long gone into the night. the black-haired man's raspy voice spoke from behind— your boyfriend, kinich, of course. "he wasn't all that entertaining, why laugh like how you do with me?"

it was torture to him, seeing how it went from an awkward laugh, a polite smile, to a more genuine appearance to the stupid guy that just had to come up to you while he was busy getting a little snack for ajaw— even ajaw wouldn't comment on how his face looked this time, keeping his own silence as he ate the delicious candy.

"fffuck- he was an old classmate i had at the akademiya- 'm sorry, i-i really am kin-!" he almost laughed at your words. classmate? doesn't mean you should be playfully hitting shoulder like that. or teasing him like that. it's all his, no one else should be able to have it.

you shuddered, what felt like cumming again for the umpteenth time in a row, he hadn't stopped pinning you against the wall, and making you see stars over and over again ever since you saw your "classmate".

"doesn't matter." he groans, finishing inside you once more, your eyes were blindfolded by his headwear, previously on his forehead. he carries you onto the mattress, laying you down a little roughly. "w- what are you doing?"

you shivered once more, feeling warm exhales near your entrance, his cheek resting suddenly on one of your thighs. "all mine, right?" the blunt tone present in his tone definitely made it out as if you couldn't tell him anything other than yes (because it was true). his lips start to scatter a plethora of glossy little kisses all over your thighs, the sensation of getting him to cover every inch of your legs felt like a fever dream.. was this really a punishment?

you could feel his other hand snake to one of yours, which was somewhere on the bed. holding it tight as he started to place wet pecks over your hole. "hhnnn.. kin stop- ... stop teasing me.." you felt yourself moan into his touch, your other hand reaching out for wherever his head was. your fist grabbing at his hair, almost trying to push him into you further.

you felt him groan into you, you could sense he was whipped for your taste. the way you moaned his name. his.. name. "ahh- ahhh fffuck!— kin it's all yours, i promise!" his hand left yours, and stopped lapping at your hole for a moment- you heard a small grunt, and two things landing on the floor.. was he taking his gloves off?!

you could feel him sitting you up with one of his other hands, arms setting you down onto his face, arms locking around your thighs. straddling you over his mouth, as he started to devour what was his. no other guy could do this to you, not without making you feel as good as he did.

shit and he definitely did, the way he made you feel wasn't like the stupid losers who'd try to hook up with you back in the akademiya. or tried to pick you up in the streets. they can't make you feel turned on as much as you did when kinich blindfolded your eyes with something he doesn't usually take off and hear his belt buckle start to come off- ahhh nothing was better!

oh you felt yourself almost creaming on his face just thinking about it. not to mention how good he worked his tongue into you, definitely tasting every little bit, every little nook & cranny his tongue could reach.

he made a small sound, looking up to see you slowly riding his face as is, trying to rub yourself near against his nose. his authorative hold was more than enough to stop you from moving again, one of his palms moving over your stomach to feel the way his tongue moved inside you.

his head busily buried itself more into your scent, glossing his tongue so carefully, making sure you feel it. you started to feel something pool in your stomach- ssshit you were gonna cum again! your hands trail back down to his hair, gripping it harshly again, him seeing signs that you're close, he fastens his pace, licking as much as he could, no longer concentrating on the taste, more on your facial expression.

"ahhn- kin i'm g'na-!" "mmm there it is, such a good kitty." were the words he moaned into your hole, as he gladly lapped up every inch of your delicious juice/cum.

as he placed a kiss onto your entrance once more, he places more than just one kiss onto your lips, making out with you for a bit. letting him taste what he's been tasting for the past hour, the shared, mix of both of your cum.

your lips finally parting from his, your eyes still shut close 'till you feel a fist of your hair being gripped, "not done yet." is all kinich whispers, his voice a little coarse as he continues to kiss you. "all.. yours," you feel him take your hand, putting it over his heart while you both pull away from the kiss, a string of saliva being created. "and all mine, please?" he points to where your heart is in your chest.

his blunt attitude could only make you laugh, planting a kiss onto his head, and nodding to an agreement. "mmm- yeah. all yours."

"you guys are reaaaaaaalll corny! you're lucky i like your partner this time!" ajaw butts in as you laugh, while kinich simply scoffs- looking the other way and burying his face into your chest.

not as cool as my other works, and it's more cringe if i keep looking back on it, cute request tho !!!!<3333

[2amriize]

˚⟡˖ RIIZE angry confessions

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre angst, fluff pairing riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

Shotaro had been in love with you for a while, but he always felt that you only saw him as a good friend. Because of this, he decided not to confess his feelings. You two had known each other for years, and although he only realized his feelings a few months ago, he had always felt a bit strange when he saw you with other guys. Back then, he didn't admit it, but he was jealous. He couldn't understand why, despite laughing with him more than anyone else, you still seemed to prefer other guys. Deep down, he felt like he wasn't enough.

Since he realized he was in love with you, you hadn’t mentioned liking any other guys, so Shotaro hadn't felt jealous in a while—until it happened.

One day, while you were having an afternoon snack at a café with Shotaro, something you did often, you spotted a guy from your class who you thought was really cute entering the café. You couldn’t help but feel nervous.

"Oh my god..." you murmured, trying to look away.

“What’s up?” Shotaro asked, turning to see what had caught your attention.

“It’s that guy from my class… He’s…”

“Oh, do you have a crush on him?” Shotaro glanced at the guy for a few seconds before turning back around and letting out a small sigh. “He’s not good for you.”

“Huh? Why do you say that?”

“He looks like trouble. And I don’t think he’s right for you.”

Shotaro had never said anything like that to you before, and it made you a bit angry. What was he implying?

“Since when do you care about what's good for me, Shotaro?” you asked, giving him a serious look, clearly upset by his words. He looked back at you in silence for a few seconds.

“Since I…” He bit his lip and shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“Since what, Shotaro? Why do you suddenly care about the guys I like? It’s none of your business…”

“Because I’m in love with you, Y/N!” Shotaro cut you off, standing up and looking at you intensely. “That’s why, alright? Are you happy now?” He grabbed his things and stormed out of the café.

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

It was the way Eunseok looked at you that made everyone else realize how much he liked you. Well, everyone except for you. From the moment he met you, Eunseok knew he had feelings for you, but there wasn’t much he could do about it because at the time, you were dating someone else.

When you broke up with that guy, Eunseok was there for you whenever you needed him, supporting you. But that was all he could do—be by your side—because he felt like you didn’t see him the same way he saw you. Even though everyone always mentioned how Eunseok looked at you, you would always reply with, “I don’t know why everyone keeps saying that, Eunseok looks at everyone like that…”

To be honest, sometimes you had thought about it—whether Eunseok really had feelings for you like everyone said—but it didn’t make sense to you, so you would quickly brush it off. On the other hand, Eunseok was finding it harder and harder to contain his feelings. It never seemed like the right moment to confess, especially since you had been going through an on-again, off-again relationship with the same guy for a while, something Eunseok couldn’t stand.

“You got back with him again?” Eunseok asked with a sigh as you both sat on the grass at a friend’s birthday party. You had stepped outside to get some fresh air.

“Yeah… I feel like it’s what I should do.”

“Why, Y/N? Sometimes you make the dumbest decisions…”

“Excuse me?” You looked at him, surprised by the way he spoke. Eunseok had always supported you, and this was the first time he sounded frustrated. “It’s not dumb…”

“Isn’t it? To keep chasing after someone who doesn’t treat you the way you deserve?”

“What do you mean, Eunseok? He treats me well… we just have a few little fights sometimes. Besides, I go back to him because he’s the only one who cares about me at the end of the day, because…”

“Oh my god, Y/N, how can you be so blind?” Eunseok interrupted, looking at you with clear frustration.

“What…?”

As he stood up to go back inside, he murmured, “I don’t understand how you can’t see that the person who loves you the most is right in front of you…”

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

Sungchan had been looking out for you since day one. You had known each other since elementary school, and ever since then, you had always been together. He was always by your side, making sure you were okay and safe. You two spent so much time together that people who didn’t know you well often thought you were dating, something you always denied immediately to avoid awkwardness.

Sungchan never took it personally when you denied it—he tried to brush it off quickly—until it happened in a situation unlike any other before. You had never had a boyfriend, mostly because you hadn’t really been interested in any guys… until now. There was this one guy you’d been noticing lately, someone you found intriguing, but you hadn’t told anyone about it because it made you a little shy.

To your surprise, your friends invited this guy to a lunch gathering that you and Sungchan were also attending. When you saw him approaching with your friends, you couldn’t hide your nervousness, which Sungchan immediately noticed. And, as usual, the guy asked how long you and Sungchan had been together.

“No, him and me? We’re not a couple. Not at all. Never,” you said quickly, letting out a nervous laugh.

Sungchan stared at you in silence. He couldn’t believe what you had just done. Normally, you would simply say, “No, we’re just friends,” but this time, it felt like you had overreacted, and it hurt him. As you continued talking more with the guy, Sungchan started to feel left out (and jealous), so he let out a small laugh and walked away to another spot.

It took you a few minutes to realize Sungchan was no longer there, behind you, where he had always been. Confused, you quietly excused yourself from the group to go find him. After searching for a bit, you finally found him leaning against a tree, sipping his drink. You approached and touched his shoulder, and he looked at you with an expression you had never seen on him before.

“Why did you leave, Sungchan? Did something happen?”

“It seemed like you didn’t need me there anymore,” he said, turning his gaze away from you.

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t know you hated the idea of people seeing us as a couple… or rather, that he saw us as a couple.”

“Sungchan, you know that’s not it. We’re not dating, you know? I always say the same thing. I don’t get why you’re acting like this now…”

“I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy since the day we met, yet you couldn’t see?” Sungchan turned to face you, locking eyes with you for a few seconds.

“What… what do you mean…?” you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“It’s… nevermind,” he said, walking away.

ᯓ★ WONBIN

Wonbin was a friend of one of your friends, and although you had met him several times before, you didn’t really start talking until a few months ago. To both of your surprise, you had a lot of common interests, which meant you had been talking more and more lately.

Whenever you hung out with your group of friends, it wasn’t unusual for you and Wonbin to spend the entire time together, which led to people starting to suspect there was something going on between you two. However, everyone knew that you had been interested in another guy for a while, a guy who constantly gave you mixed signals. But you were so blinded by the way he treated you that you couldn’t see he was just playing with your feelings.

This was something Wonbin knew, and it was starting to bother him more and more. At first, he didn’t care much, but the more he got to know you, the more frustrated he became with how this guy was treating you. And that’s when he realized that maybe he didn’t see you just as a friend anymore. The moment he came to that realization, he regretted it, knowing that you only had eyes for someone else, and he felt like you’d never notice him.

One evening, you were hanging out with your friends, and for some reason, you all decided to drink. Wonbin wasn’t very good at drinking, so it didn’t take long for him to get tipsy, his cheeks flushed. When Wonbin got drunk, he became even more affectionate than usual. You had also been drinking, but it didn’t affect you as much.

At one point, Wonbin went outside to get some fresh air because he was feeling a bit dizzy, and you followed him to check if he was okay. While outside, you started talking about the guy you liked, and unlike usual, Wonbin didn’t respond or pay much attention. When you noticed he was staring off into the distance, you looked at him.

“Wonbin? Are you okay?”

He stared at you for a few seconds, and just when it seemed like he was about to say something, he sighed and buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Do you like that guy so much that you can’t see what he’s doing to you?”

“Huh? What are you talking about, Wonbin? He treats me really well…”

“Yeah, that’s what you think…”

“You don’t have the right to talk about him like that when you don’t even know him,” you said, getting annoyed at how Wonbin was speaking badly about him.

After a few seconds of silence, Wonbin looked at you and shook his head.

“…This is why I knew I shouldn’t have gotten close to you.”

“What are you talking about, Wonbin?”

“I just… wish you wouldn’t keep seeing that guy.”

“You don’t have the right to say that.”

“I wish I did.”

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

Everyone, even you, knew how much Seunghan liked you. But you always ignored his feelings because you preferred not to face that reality. You had been friends for so many years that you didn't want to risk your friendship over it. Still, you couldn't deny that you treated him differently from everyone else, being much more affectionate and always relying on him when you needed someone. Seunghan was always there for you, no matter what. It didn’t matter if you were on the other side of the city and only needed a pen—he would come and bring it to you. That’s how much you meant to him, and everyone could see it.

That’s why, when he heard from others that you were starting to get to know another guy, he felt his heart break a little. He knew you two weren’t a couple and that he had never confessed his feelings, but it still hurt to find out from someone else, especially when you knew how he felt. The thought of you with another guy was something he couldn't stand.

He tried to distance himself from you for a while after hearing the news, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t say no when you asked him to pick you up from class to take you home, even though he knew you probably had an important date. Despite knowing this date might be with the other guy, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse, so he picked you up just as you had asked.

The whole ride, he was quiet and serious, something you found odd since Seunghan had never behaved like this around you. He was always so sweet and cheerful when he was with you.

"Seunghan, is something wrong? You seem really serious," you asked when he parked in front of your house after the silent ride.

"No, don't worry," he murmured without looking at you.

"I know something’s bothering you…"

"Don't you have to go get ready for your date?"

The way Seunghan looked at you and the tone he used when mentioning your date made you realize he knew about it, and he seemed quite upset.

"Seunghan, you know I care about you a lot, but it’s just…"

"You know. You know I love you and took full advantage of the fact that I'd do anything for you. And I know that. I just kept at it, hoping that one day you'd value me just as much."

You froze after hearing Seunghan’s words. You couldn’t help but feel bad for making him feel this way, though it was never your intention. Before you could even respond, Seunghan spoke again.

"Just… get out. You’re going to be late."

ᯓ★ SOHEE

There had always been a sort of romantic tension between you and Sohee. Both of you were playful and touchy with each other, but that was all—just tension. Even though you both probably had feelings for each other, neither of you had confessed.

In fact, you were always waiting for him to confess, but that moment never seemed to come. The longer you waited, the more tired you grew of holding onto hope. Yet, despite that, you couldn’t seem to let go of the idea of him.

Knowing all of this, you still couldn’t ignore the guy who approached you at the party. You had come to the university party with Sohee, but he had gone off to talk to his friends. The guy, someone you hadn’t seen before, wasted no time approaching you once he saw Sohee wasn’t by your side.

You two talked for a while, and the guy even brushed your arm occasionally while locking eyes with you. You couldn’t deny feeling a bit nervous around him. He was charming and very attractive. After chatting for a bit, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, promising you’d be right back.

You didn’t expect to find Sohee waiting for you outside the bathroom. You quickly noticed he’d had a few drinks.

"Sohee, have you been drinking?"

"Who was that guy?"

"Are you talking about the one I was talking to earlier? He’s a new guy at our faculty. He’s pretty nice. I was about to go back and talk to him."

"Don’t go back to him," Sohee muttered, lowering his head.

"Sohee, you can’t decide what I do."

"I know I can’t, but I don’t want you to talk to him again."

"Sohee, you’re just drunk and saying things that don’t make sense," you said, walking past him, heading back to the party.

"Y/n, I love you," you heard Sohee murmur as he grabbed your wrist, only to let it go after a few seconds. You looked at him, stunned, for a moment. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?" he said before walking away into the party, leaving you standing in the hallway, unsure of what to say or do.

ᯓ★ ANTON

You and Anton had been best friends for as long as you could remember. You went to the same school, and your mothers were close friends, so you spent many summers together. Even after graduating, you both ended up attending the same university, so you still saw each other daily.

It felt like you two were inseparable—until you started getting to know another guy. It took you a while to tell Anton about him since you’d never really talked about that kind of stuff before. When you finally did, you thought he took it well at first, but you noticed him starting to act strange, becoming more distant.

Although he said nothing was wrong, he always had excuses to avoid walking home with you, claiming he had plans to study with classmates in a café, something you found odd since he didn’t like studying in public. Even so, you decided to trust him and give him the space he seemed to need.

One day, as you were heading home, you spotted Anton walking in the distance. It had been a while since you’d seen him in person, so you decided to catch up with him. He smiled briefly when he saw you, but then quickly looked away and started walking faster.

"Anton, I feel like you’ve been acting weird these past weeks. Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No, you know… exams, new people… It’s just that. Nothing’s wrong."

"Are you sure? I feel like you’re pulling away from me, and if I’ve done something wrong, I want to know."

"Nothing’s wrong, y/n. You’ve just got other friends now, and I get it," he mumbled coldly. You stood there, thinking for a moment. In high school, you’d made new friends, and yet you and Anton still acted like you always had. Why was this time different?

"I feel like you’ve been off ever since I told you about Ricky…"

"Y/n. I just… don’t want to talk about it."

"Well, I do, Anton. I feel like you’re being selfish, only thinking about how you feel and not about how you’re making me feel," you said, frustrated, stopping in the middle of the street. Anton turned to look at you, serious.

"Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay? But it happened, and I can’t do shit about it."

"You… what?"

Anton stared at you for a few seconds, pressing his lips together before turning his back on you.

"Forget it, y/n. I’m just tired from all the studying."

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

[idontplaytrack]

janis is being really mean (like ex regina style mean) to her friends and no one knows why and one day she goes to far and gets yelled at and than she breaks down and regina is her gf and is like wth is goiing on, Janis breaks down and tells her than she has to apologize to her friends.

Do you see me?

Janis 'Imi'ike x Regina George

Warnings: coarse language, angst, implied attempt

They all knew Janis was unafraid to speak her mind, but then things get out of hand and the reason had to be coaxed out by Regina

"Hey, you." Regina came up behind Janis and kissed her on the cheek. Janis froze, or flinched, Regina wasn't sure. But something out of the ordinary happened.

"You okay?" Regina asks in a quiet voice, obviously concerned.

Janis gave her nothing but a shrug before she proceeded to open up her locker to retrieve a textbook.

Regina wasn’t too convinced but let it slide. Then they went about their days like this brief conversation never happened. All was seemingly…fine until lunch when the whole group was sat together for the break. Aaron said some stupid joke that made everyone laugh— everyone but Janis. Then Karen teased her for being unamused, so Janis got pissed, in seconds. She stabs her fork into the food and was gripping onto it so hard, the plastic utensil easily broke into two.

Everyone saw it, everyone reacted— some more than others. Regina tried to stay nonchalant about it but her worry was steadily growing. Three days in a row something like this has happened now. And as reckless and well— extroverted as Janis tended to be usually, nothing worried the blonde more than when Janis was quiet. 

After the day at school ended, Regina drove Janis home, but Regina doesn’t just leaves. She follows Janis into the garage. The Hawaiian doesn’t object, but Regina was doubtful that she even knew that she was right behind her.

“Janis, will you talk to me, please?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s just stress.” Janis answered curtly, dropping her backpack with a thud. 

“About?” Regina pressed. 

Janis snaps, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Regina flinched, startled by the tone. Yes, Regina got scared by the tone. Janis ignored her from that point on, changing into comfy clothes then just crawled into her bed and slept. Regina hung around for a bit then left, defeated. Closing the garage door, she was met with Janis’ dad in the driveway. “Mr. ‘Imi’ike, hi. I was just dropping Janis off.” 

“Hi, Regina.” The man gave her a kind smile, he was always happy to see her. The guy didn’t have a single mean bone in his body— he was too nice. Even after knowing what Regina did to his daughter in middle school. He said he believes that everyone has a reason for why they act differently, as long as they were willing to admit that and change…all was good. And so Regina fought the urge to ask him directly if Janis was okay. It’s only been a few days, right? Maybe it was just PMS. That wasn’t unusual. 

“See you tomorrow.” Mr. ‘Imi’ike chuckles, “Drive safe, stinker.” 

Regina shook her head in disbelief and guffaws. That nickname, from years ago. He randomly started to use it for Regina one day and it just stuck. Janis was ‘peanut’ — even till today, her Dad still called her that. Regina thought it was cute.

As Regina drove off, Mr. ‘Imi’ike enters the garage after knocking on the door. “Hi, peanut.” He poked his head in, “Do you want to have lunch with your —”

“No.” Janis answered quickly, “Not happening.” 

“Okay.” He nodded in understanding. He didn’t want to ask her that, he was forced to.

“Could you just bring it in here for me?” Janis requested, “Please?”

“Of course, sweetheart.” Her Dad agreed, “I’ll be right back.”

Janis moves over to her desk in the meantime, diving right back into working on her art pieces. Art pieces, plural. She’d been busy with a few of them to make the deadline of a portfolio submission for one of her dream schools. She hears two voices in the house, which had only become a thing lately. Janis cringes, she hates it when they are like that— squabbling. Mr. ‘Imi’ike returns with the food: pineapple fried rice and teriyaki beef skewers. Delicious. 

“Wow, thanks Dad.” Janis forced a smile. It was one of her favourite lunches ever, and she didn’t want her Dad to worry any more than he already was. 

Her Dad set the plate down on her desk, stroked her hair and pressed a kiss to her head, “Eat well, ipo. I’ll go get you a drink too. What do you want?”

“Ah, we don’t have that drink here, Dad. You know that.” Janis says with a laugh.

“Hawaiian Sun? Who says we don’t?” He grins, “I brought some back for you when I went home to Hawai’i.”

Janis gasped, “Really? Guava nectar flavour too?”

“Especially that. I know that’s your favourite.” He laughs similarly, “I’ll just be a sec.” 

This little conversation took her mind off of what she was working on, which was a much needed break. Janis had been working on those pieces pretty much non-stop when she was at home. 

“Thanks.” Janis says, immediately cracking open the can to take a sip of her beloved beverage.

“Of course.” 

And so, Janis ate her lunch while watching some TV. She’d moved again, over to her couch and just focused on her meal. Because let’s face it, those school lunches aren’t ever filling enough to actually be a lunch. 

Janis didn’t hear from anyone else that day, not even Regina. And she didn’t even realise. Janis couldn’t be bothered by that, all she could think about was the portfolio completion. That was her only focus. Regina on the other hand, was contemplating whether or not to text the girl, but she of course, ended up not doing so and the rest of Janis’ evening ended up being awfully quiet. Not that she even noticed because she was so engrossed in finishing her art pieces. 

Her current piece? A painting of a wilted hibiscus, with a chrysanthemum growing right by it. She was barely finished, but her Dad came in later that night and urged her to turn in for the night. 

“G’night, peanut.”

Janis chuckles, “Good night, Dad.”

“Sleep tight, love you.” 

————

The next day, the first half of the day was fine. Janis made it through without much trouble. And like yesterday, the problem came during lunch. All the chatter and laughter was driving Janis nuts, and she typically would be joining in on it. But given how occupied she’d been with the portfolio, that was the only thing on her mind. Everything else…was just noise. Loud, irritating noise.

“Janis, what are you thinking about?” Damian asked. She exhaled harshly, not bothering to even look at her best friend, “Did you have one of those silly ass dreams again last night?”

“Shut up.” Janis muttered. 

“Come on, he’s just worried about you, Jay.” Regina continued, “And honestly, I am too.” 

“Yeah, yeah, everyone’s worried about the art freak.” Janis stabs her fork into a dumpling, “Who cares? Stop annoying me.” Her mind quickly drifts again, back to a specific moment on Monday. 

Janis had just gotten home from school on her own since Regina had lacrosse practice on Mondays. And while she was expecting the house to be quiet because her Dad would be at work, but instead, she saw her Dad sitting at the counter with a woman. It seemed so ridiculous, Janis thought her eyes must've been playing tricks on her. The woman, was her mother, who up and left her and her Dad almost eleven years ago without a word. “Oh, my God. Janis!” The woman gasped, smiling brightly at the sight of the teen— like she hadn’t just shown up here after more than a decade of being absent and wanting nothing to do with them. “I don’t know who you are, don’t try to hug me. I won’t like it and neither will you” Janis bit the inside of her cheek, her hand still clutching onto one backpack strap. Before her mother could even walk close enough, Janis disappeared through a side door into her garage. “Leave her alone, Leilani.” Janis hears him talking to her mother as she leaves the side door.

With her garage being soundproofed, Janis knew she could safely scream. So she did, but not without unintentionally smacking some items on her table to the floor. Then she was sobbing, her heart was confused, but her head was clear— she hated that woman for what she’d done, leaving her all alone, leaving her father all alone. How dare she just come back like she hadn’t done anything wrong? Yes, Leilani was her mother, but she’s never acted like one. From the moment Janis was old enough to remember, the woman’s almost never around. Every single early memory? Was just Janis and her dad, Janis and Damian, even Janis and Regina. Never ever Janis and her mom. Why couldn’t her heart agree with her head? Janis hated that, she hated this feeling. It made her feel like shit.

Once she’d stopped crying, Janis picked herself up and sat at her desk, starting a new painting with the wilted hibiscus and growing chrysanthemum. 

Janis wasn’t sure how, but she managed to make it through another day at school without fully blowing her top. But today, Regina wasn’t going to let whatever this was, go.

“Why is everyone here?” Janis leaned against the doorframe.

“To hang out.” Regina answers simply.

“What are you trying to do? I don't need saving or whatever this is.”

“I already said, I’m worried. I wanna help you.”

“I don’t need your help!” Janis snapped, shutting the door. But Regina held it open, so did Aaron when Janis tried to shove it shut again. “Something is going on. I am not leaving until you tell me what is happening because this isn’t like you.” Regina inhales deeply, blinking away tears. “Let me in. Please, Janis. You don’t have to be dealing with it alone.” Janis’ palm falls from the door, and she moves off to the side, Regina enters the artist’s garage with the rest of the gang. “Who’s that with your Dad?” Gretchen asks, seeing the pair talking in the front yard after walking out from the house. Janis scrambled to shut the door and lock it. “Um— it’s strange having all of you here like that but I owe all of you an apology. How I’ve been acting all week with you guys was messed up. I’ve been stressed about submitting my portfolio on time to the colleges I hope to be able to attend, and then my Mom who’s basically been no part of my life showed up here on Monday after school like she didn’t abandon me and my Dad without an explanation more than a decade ago, and I just— I lost it, I was so thrown off I didn’t know how to help myself, pick myself back up and I just also didn’t know how to tell anyone because none of you guys knew at all about my Mom, not Damian, not Regina. So I was in a bad, bad mood, I tried channelling all those emotions into my art but still, it was bugging me, it was bugging me so badly I just became a mess.” 

The group’s never been this silent, a few were stunned, the others were shocked and worried. Each of them felt a combination of those feelings, merely a fraction of what Janis has had to deal with. But even then, it already felt like a lot. “I don’t want my Dad to get hurt again, I can’t lose him too. He’s all I’ve got here, my family’s miles away. He moved us here to get a fresh start after my Mom left us, a part of me died back home in Hawai’i. My home, became the most painful, most traumatic place. Such a beautiful place became so ugly because of one person’s decision. My earliest memory of her, was her leaving. I remember my Dad keeping it together for my sake, but I would always hear him crying when I was up late at night. I’ll never be able to forget any of that— he was always so happy, so carefree. He gave me everything, and then I was the one who almost left him alone too. One thing I did right was not going through with my attempt— I could never hurt my Dad too. But I don’t get it, why doesn’t he just tell her to go? I never told him, after the ‘obsessed lesbian’ shit in middle school got too much, I wanted to end it, the only way I knew how, the only way I knew would end the pain forever. He doesn’t know to this day and I will never be able to bring myself to tell him, I don’t want to give him another blow to his heart. So I’ve just been working through that on my own during therapy. But then, well, this happened. I’m sorry that I’ve been so rude and bitchy, I didn’t mean any of it.”

Regina immediately engulfed her in a hug, “I'm so sorry.”

“I know you are, we already talked about it. We’re good.” Janis sniffled, “Guys, I’m really sorry, it’s just been so difficult.”

They all crowded around the couple for a group hug, which Janis appreciated but would never outwardly admit just yet. The apology in this setting was a big enough step forward. 

“We can ask that woman to leave, you know?” Damian quirked a brow.

“No.” Janis decided, “I’ll do that. Right now.”

Janis entered the house before anyone could stop her. Dumbfounded, they just watch her walk inside. 

“Dad. She has to go, I don’t care what she’s been telling you but she’s history.” Janis stood tall, but was trying to fight the painful lump forming in her throat.

“I’ve missed you, ipo.”

“You’ve missed me?” Janis scoffed, “It took you eleven fucking years to realise that and come here? I don’t know what you’re trying to do after being nonexistent in my life. My earliest memory of you was you leaving us. You have no clue how hard life has been, you have no idea what we had to go through because of you. You’ve got no idea what kind of shit started because of your decision to abandon your own partner and daughter. You see me here now, standing in front of you in one piece. But you have broke me inside in more ways than you could’ve ever imagine so don’t come up to me saying you miss me because I don’t know you at all. We had to leave home, because of you. We had to leave family because of you. Grandma and grandpa hated you, and I couldn’t understand why when I was little because I was just sad mommy was gone. But when I was old enough, I remembered— you, were never there. Dad was there through all of it. Every single milestone, elementary school graduation, middle school, my first fucking period, my first heartbreak, high school, and everything in between. While you…you were nowhere. Then you just waltz in here like you went on a weekend away? No. No! You don’t get to do that and expect forgiveness. Stop trying, it’s already been over the second you thought about walking out on us."

"She's right. Please listen to your daughter if you love her like you claim you do. We don't need any of this— not now, not ever. We don't need you. We've been just fine, the both of us."

Janis felt like she blacked out, but felt a pair of arms around her: her dad's, of course. She hears Leilani getting up from the stool at the same time he shields her eyes from witnessing her mother's second departure. Only this time, it was going to be good for them because they were doing perfect without her before she reappeared.

"i got you. I got you, Jains. We're okay. I promise." Her Dad assured, holding her close, "Regina, I know you're standing there, get over here."

" I wasn't listening—"

"I know." He nods, "Just thought she might want you."

Regina nodded, giving the kind man a tight-lipped smile as she wraps her arms around Janis once her Dad let go. "Guys, don't go yet, I'll make you all something to eat. Dinnertime's soon anyway, just hang around, huh?'

"Thank you, Dad."

"Ah, no problem at all, peanut. You're my baby girl, it's always been you and me. Hm? And it always will be."

Regina held Janis' face in her hands, lightly squishing her cheeks before her thumb caressed her tear-stained cheek. "I love you, I will always be here for you. I swear on my life that you will always have me in your corner. You will always have us in your corner, no matter where life takes us for college or our jobs. We’re gonna be there no matter what it takes, life’s tough sometimes but together we’re sure as hell tougher.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

I’m so sorry this took such a long time, but here it is! Thank you for waiting🥲

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: Literally I woke up today and thought that i had stabbed myself in my sleep because my whole body was aching, yep, no, it was just my period that started. Hell week may have started but at least I found energy enough to write this ♡

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, period talk, super suggestive, implied kidnapped reader, gn!reader. Alucard is a little creepier here but I love him nonetheless.

The room was dark, the dim light of the bedside lamp casting weak shadows against the walls. You were curled up under a heavy blanket, trying to stave off the pain in your abdomen. The dull, aching throb was relentless, the cramps coming in waves that made you wish for anything that might provide some relief. But it wasn't just the pain that kept you on edge tonight — it was him.

Like a shark, you'll knew Alucard would come to check on you and the sudden smell of blood.

You knew Alucard was there before you even saw him. His presence was impossible to ignore, a suffocating weight that seemed to wrap itself around you, pulling the air from your lungs. It started with the faint sound of his chuckle echoing from the darkness, that rich, mocking tone that sent a chill running down your spine.

“Poor little thing." He cooed, his voice dripping with condescension. “Does it hurt?”

You didn’t answer, clutching the hot water bottle tighter against your stomach, trying to shut him out. But you knew that wouldn’t work.

It never did.

Alucard was, surprisely, a yapper. He could keep talking for hours on end for the both of you if he was in the mood. And right now, that seemed to be the case.

“Now, now, don’t be like that.” Alucard’s voice was closer now, and you felt the mattress shift as he settled himself right at your side, watching you with that twisted, predatory grin. “You should be used to me by now, shouldn’t you?”

You gritted your teeth, refusing to meet his gaze, but he wouldn’t allow it. His gloved hand reached out, cold and unyielding, grasping your chin and tilting your head to face him. Those eyes — burning crimson and impossibly bright — pierced through you and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.

“There we go,” He whispered, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, slow and deliberate. “That’s better.”

You tried to pull away but he only tightened his grip, holding you in place as he leaned closer, planting a chaste kiss on your lips before smiling. “Do you have any idea how irresistible you are right now?” He murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “The scent of your blood… it’s intoxicating.”

“Alucard, you're disgusting,” You managed, though your voice sounded weak even to your own ears.

His grin widened, sharp and wicked. “Oh, but blood is blood, darling, no matter where is coming from." He moved closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, an unnatural warmth that made your skin prickle.

“I can hear it, you know. The way your blood pulses, so warm, so inviting.” He paused, inhaling deeply, his eyes fluttering shut as if savoring the scent. “You’re practically begging for me to taste you.”

“Go to hell!” You snapped, more out of desperation than courage.

Alucard laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through the room. “I’ve been there, darling,” He said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper. “And I assure you, it’s not nearly as interesting as you are, not as tempting as you are.”

His hand left your chin, trailing down the side of your neck, fingers tracing the curve of your collarbone with an almost reverent touch. “You’re trembling,” He noted with amusement. “Is it fear? Or is it something else?”

You clenched your fists, nails digging into your palms as you struggled to maintain some semblance of control. But he noticed everything. “The pain,” He continued, “it must be excruciating, isn’t it?”

He let his hand drift lower, resting against your stomach, pressing down just enough to make you wince. “I could make it go away.”

You flinched, trying to pull back, but he only followed, leaning over you, his weight pinning you down. “All you have to do is ask, my love.” He whispered, his lips so close to your ear that you could feel the cool air of his breath.

“Why?” You managed to ask, your voice barely more than a ragged whisper. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because,” Alucard smiled, his voice softening in a way that sent a new kind of fear curling through you, “I want you. All of you.” He moved his head, burying his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “I want to consume you. To make you mine in every possible way.” His tongue flicked out, tasting the sweat on your skin, and you shivered violently.

“And this…” He pressed harder against your stomach, the pressure sending another wave of pain crashing through you. “This just makes you all the more irresistible.”

“You’re sick,” You spat out, your eyes stinging with unshed tears.

“Perhaps,” He conceded with a lazy smile, “But so are you, my love. After all, you’re the one who hasn’t tried to run away yet.” His eyes gleamed with triumph, knowing full well that even if you had tried, there was no escaping him.

“You crave this, don’t you?” His voice dropped, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “The pain, the fear… the way I make you feel.”

You shook your head, desperate to deny him, but you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted to his words, the way your breath hitched, the way your pulse quickened under his touch. And he noticed, of course.

He always noticed.

“Liar,” Alucard laughed, his mouth hovering just above your skin, his fangs grazing the sensitive flesh of your neck. “You can deny it all you want, but I can hear the truth.” He paused, savoring the way you trembled beneath him. “I can feel your heartbeat, so frantic, so desperate. It’s beautiful.”

Alucard shifted, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze searing into yours. “You belong to me,” He said, his voice a dark, possessive growl that sent shivers down your spine. "Keep lying to yourself, love, it's endearing to see."

With one last lingering touch, he finally pulled away, standing over you as his form seemed to dissolve into the shadows of the room. “Rest well, darling.” He purred, his voice echoing in the darkness.

“I’ll be back later. And when I return…” He paused, letting the silence stretch, his eyes flashing one last time before he disappeared completely, “I expect you to be just as delicious as you are now.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you alone in the silence, your heart pounding in your ears, your body trembling with a mixture of fear, anger, and something you refused to name. But as the pain in your abdomen flared up again, you couldn’t help but think about his words, the way he had touched you, the way his eyes had burned with something beyond hunger.

And in the depths of your mind, a terrifying thought took root — he would be back. And a part of you would be waiting.

[zutaranation]

Talking about The Search with some moots on twitter, got me thinking some really interesting potentials.

It’s in character that Zuko would forgive Ursa for forgetting him and want what’s best for her and intellectually understand why she did what she did, but I think emotionally, beneath the surface, he would feel deep pain at that.

Ikem and Kiyi’s existence clog up the plot. It’s too many cooks in the kitchen. Dont get me wrong, Ikem is a fine dude, he seems chill, and I love the dadko moments that come from Kiyi, but it’s too much going on directly linked to the main cast’s lives. That’s why it’ll never be addressed, which feels cheap and makes the reader feel cheated. Like Zuko has a STEPDAD now?! That should be a huge plot and discussion, but it’s not. It’s glossed over. There’s too many characters.

The whole gaang could’ve looked at Zuko, remembered what Ozai looked like, and laughed at him for thinking Ikem was his bio dad. That made no fucking sense. Sadly for Zuko, he’s the spitting image of Ozai. I could see Zuko being in denial, but Aang should’ve laughed at him tbfh.

Like Kiyi and Ikem wouldn’t come up in a gaang adult movie they’d be forgotten and that’s why they shouldn’t have existed.

Kiyi also just feels like some weird bandaid consolation prize for Zuko to toss Azula aside ??? It’s weird idk.

Like why are Ursa’s parents presumably dead? They easily could’ve been alive 💀 Ursa should’ve been vibing with them and zuko meets normal grandparents that were hidden from him for years … it feels less cluttering of a story than making up Ikem and Kiyi and then you would just presume the grandparents are old and rickety and have to hang back in Hira’a most of the time so it’s not like bugging your mind with questions and adding more unaddressed storylines!

I’m okay with the Ursa forgetting her kids plot. I do think it makes her shitty, but I’m okay with the tragedy of it and her being kinda a shitty mom.

Ikem is low key a freak for helping Ursa forget her memories then settling down with her like NOTHING HAPPENED

I wish that Ozai and Ursa once had feelings for each other and he slipped into “madness” in an “absolute power corrupts absolutely” kinda way. It’s more interesting than “he’s always an evil big bad gonna tie you to the train tracks” vibe and eliminates the need for stupid ass Ikem. I remember Bryke mentioning this once too in some old ass trivia bit or something for “Zuko Alone”.

The worst part about The Search is the glossing over the emotional scenes. What readers had wanted for years so badly was the emotional payoff of either Zuko facing his mother was dead, or actually seeing them reunite. Also— the most emotional— Ursa reacting to Zuko’s scar is entirely skipped. It sucks.

Not letting Zuko and Katara have a single conversation when Sokka and Zuko do and Aang and Zuko do is insane. Katara had so much to feel and bond and hurt over Zuko with (yes platonically in this case I’m not that in denial @ antis). It sucks so bad they cut this entirely for shipping bs hatred because BRYKE are 6 years old emotionally.

This would’ve been a much better and emotionally charged story on screen. It was really cheated by being done on a limited page comic. It needed more time, voice acting and music.

It’s implied heavily, as many of us always assumed, that Ursa was SA’d.

If zutara was canon, I think Katara would be furious at Ursa and it would be an interesting conversation and story. Maybe I’ll write that fic

Regardless of these many flaws, the story is much more in character than The Promise or Smoke & Shadow. I hate those comics so bad for making the theme let’s all kill Zuko and be nonchalant if he dies! And making it so that it’s like he never had a found family and still no one loved him and also the weird submissiveness they gave to Katara and the retconning of everything and the repetition and recycling of plots and it all is so bad… 💀😭

What thoughts do yall have? Happy to discuss 👀

[keirientez]

band au rahhhhhhhhhhh

[kingkatsuki]

— lush

It’s no secret to Bakugou that his friends think you’re hot, but he’s never allowed them to act on it before. Until they catch him using a remote controlled vibrator on you—

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader, implied Sero Hanta x f!reader, Kaminari Denki x f!reader, Kirishima Eijirou x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, toys, Bakugou let’s the guys control your lush vibe, dub-con (consent isn’t explicitly stated so could potentially be seen as non-con), long distance, sexting, public setting, nudes, squirting, dirty talk, the guys talk pure filth about you.

Word Count: 3.6k.

Bakugou did not want to be here, and frankly he wouldn’t have turned up at all if it hadn’t been for you. Especially when he knew what was waiting at home for him— you kissed him at the door with a promise to wait up for him when he returned home. Knowing that you’d more than likely fall asleep on the couch by the time he stepped back into the apartment, having to scoop you up into his arms and walk you into your bedroom.

This night out for Sero’s birthday had been planned weeks in advance, and rather than unwinding with him after your long day at work you practically forced him into the shower— alone no less, and made him get ready for drinks at a popular bar in central Musutafu.

Taking a sip of his cold beer as his friends talked animatedly around him in the plush booth, catching up with each other after a few weeks apart. Gathering as Pro-Heroes wasn’t as easy as his days back at U.A. Conflicting work schedules meant that it became near impossible to find the same days, or even evenings off as each other. So this was something to be savoured. Or at least, that’s what you told him as you watched him get ready. Sitting on your shared bed wearing one of his old Dynamight agency shirts and a pair of shorts while he pulled a plain black shirt out of his closet to wear tonight.

Nothing had annoyed Bakugou more than leaving you alone in your apartment to be here, the taste of your gloss still lingering on his lips as he thought about being home with you instead.

You’d made it abundantly clear what your plans were going to be tonight, pulling the little pink toy he’d bought for you out of your magic drawer (as he called it) and settling yourself on your shared bed.

“You put that in I ain’t goin’ at all, sweetheart.” He groaned, leaning against the doorframe as you shook your head with a laugh.

“You’re going,” You reached up to squeeze his cheeks together into a pout, the rough stubble on his face tickling your fingers as you pulled him down into a kiss, “I just need something after the day I’ve had. I’m probably gonna take a bath and wait for you to get home.”

“Then I’m at least controlling that shit.” He growled, pulling his cellphone out of his jeans pocket, “Give me access now.”

Maybe he’d be able to have one more drink before excusing himself early so he could get home to you and sink himself into your warm, wet cunt.

And god, you would be so fucking wet. You’d be soaked from the way his thumb continued to absentmindedly draw patterns against his phone screen. The pink cursor ascended for a few moments before dragging it back down. Picturing how you looked right now with the little toy stuffed inside your pretty pussy as you writhed on top of tussled sheets all because of him.

You[8.59PM]: Kats, stop teasing and let me cum :(((

The notification banner signaled at the top of the screen, causing Bakugou to grin. He’d been teasing you for the last hour with the toy, knowing that the settings he was using weren’t quite enough to have you coming undone for him. But just enough to have you riled up and begging for more—

Bakugou[9.00PM]: You’re the one that wanted to play these games, sweetheart.

You[9.01PM]: Yeah, but I wanna cum :((

The words had Bakugou’s cock throbbing in his pants, pressing against the rough denim as he tried to mask a groan through a tickly cough. Pressing the back of his hand to his lips as he typed another response to you.

Bakugou[9.02PM]: I promise I’ll take good care of you when I get home, baby.

You[9.05PM]: Turn it up a little please, baby? I need it.

With that text you’d sent an attachment. He’d been hiding the screen of his phone beneath the table all evening to avoid any prying eyes or accusatory questions, but this made him shield the screen from any unsuspecting gazes. A photograph of you staring up into the camera with needy eyes, your glossy lips curled into a cute pout as you pulled your shirt— his shirt, above your chest as the fabric bunched together to reveal your perfect breasts.

God, you were so fucking perfect.

Bakugou decided to take pity on you, his fingers pulling the circle up the screen to increase the vibrations. His free hand reaching forward to grab his bottle as he downed the rest of its contents. Determined this would be his last drink before excusing himself to come home to you, not that he’d have to think of any particular reason.

“Work still trying to contact you, bro? It’s gone nine.” Sero asked, leaning his forearms against the table.

“You have been on the phone a lot, is everything okay?” Kirishima looked concerned.

“He’s probably texting his girlfriend,” Denki practically sang.

“Shut up, idiot. Everything’s fine.”

Slipping his phone back into his pocket as he stood from the booth, smoothing his hands down the black denim on his thighs as he made a beeline towards the bar.

“It’s your round yeah, Kats?” Kirishima called after him, the sound drowned out by the loud bustle of the bar as Bakugou leaned against it waiting to be served. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, knowing that it was texts from you. But he didn’t want to unlock it to read them now, not when anyone could look over his shoulder and catch a glimpse at what was his.

Forgoing a tray as he held the neck of the beer bottles between his knuckles as he carried them back towards the booth to a cheer and raised arms from Denki. Sharing them out as he resumed his seat and wrapped a palm around the cold base of the bottle, distracted as he pulled his phone out to finally respond to you.

You[9.21PM]: I can’t cum with this, baby. It’s driving me crazy.

You[9.23PM]: You are the biggest tease I swear, Kats. My clit is throbbing :(((

Bakugou grinned as instead of responding to your messages, he left them on read. Opening the lush app as he went back to dragging his thumb across the screen, increasing the vibrations to give you some much needed relief. Except this time Sero was quick to notice the app on Bakugou’s phone screen, quick reflexes snatching the phone from his hands.

“Is this what I think it is?” Sero’s eyes sparkled with mischief as his mouth settled into a wide grin, “No wonder you’re talking to us even less than usual tonight, Bakubro.”

“Give it back, tapeface.” Bakugou practically snarled, reaching across the table to try and grab his phone back. Knocking his beer bottle over in the process, which Kirishima’s quick reflexes managed to save with minimal spillage, the head foaming up from the movement.

“What is that?” Denki asked with curiosity as he leaned over Sero’s shoulder to look at the screen.

“You guys ever seen this app before?” Sero turned it to face the table, the circle still sat in the middle of the screen. An indication of the consistent hum of vibrations pulsing through the toy for you right now.

“No, what does it do?” Kirishima tilted his head slightly, “Is it like a game?”

“It’s an app for a remote controlled vibrator,” Sero explained, “So unless it’s inside you right now, man—”

“Piss off.” Bakugou snarled, baring his teeth.

“Then I’m guessing it’s inside your girlfriend.” Sero surmised, turning the screen back to face him.

“Oh,” Kirishima’s lips parted in surprise, and Bakugou could see the cogs turning in his mind as his thoughts clearly went to what you looked like with this little toy stuffed inside your pussy.

“Wait” Denki’s brows were furrowed as though deep in thoyght, the cogs turning in his mind, “So that means she’s got it in right now?”

“Looks like it.” Sero held the phone in one hand as he used his pointer finger to drag the circle down to the bottom of the screen, stopping the vibrations completely, “How many times has she cum already?”

None of your fucking business, Bakugou thought to himself as he sneered across the table. But he hoped you hadn’t cum at all, wanting to return home and experience the luxury of you coming undone on his cock firsthand.

“Oh fuck, man.” Denki whined, “Your girlfriends so fucking hot. How did you get so lucky?”

“Maybe you should give that back, Sero.” Kirishima shuffled beside Bakugou, clearly intrigued with the conversation but he tried to ignore the dark, depraved thoughts that were running through his mind at this moment.

“Yeah, give it the fuck back.” Bakugou snarled, swiping for the phone again as Sero held it over his head and away from Bakugou’s reach.

You[9.30PM]: Baby, why’d you turn it off completely that’s so mean?

“Oh shit,” Sero read the text that came through from you, “Happy birthday to me.”

“Give me the fuckin’ phone,” Bakugou practically snarled, venom laced in his tone as he hoped you wouldn’t try and send another selfie.

“Come on, man. Five minutes,” Sero pleaded, offering the phone back to Bakugou as a peace offering, “It could be my birthday gift, you know?”

Having his friends fawn over you like this had a warped sense of power rolling over him. It was debauched, depraved and downright scummy but Bakugou found himself falling into the sovereignty.

Bakugou knew he should call you to let you know that he was surrendering control to the app to his friends, or at the very least send you a message to let you know. But deep down he knew it was something that you would probably enjoy, maybe a bit too much, if you knew. Often talking to him about uses for the toy, and whether he’d ever share access with it with his friends. The thought of going home to tell you who had been controlling it just to see the wide-eyed look on your face had his cock throbbing beneath his jeans in anticipation.

“Five fuckin’ minutes.”

“That’s the spirit, happy fucking birthday to me.” Sero grinned as he began to slide his finger against the screen, “You shoulda brought her with you, that woulda been the best gift.”

“You’d never be that fuckin’ lucky, tapeface.” Bakugou snorted, taking a sip of beer as Sero’s tongue poked out from between his lips in concentration. Swirling his finger along the screen with such precision, but Bakugou was certain he had no real clue what he was doing.

“A girl online gave me her code to one of these before,” He grinned across the booth, “Let me watch her on video while I did it too—”

“Don’t even think about it.” Bakugou would rather blow his phone up completely than let his friends see you on video.

“How do you even know she’s got it in right now?” Denki asked, “You could just be messing with a dead toy.”

“She sent a text begging me to turn it back on.” Sero grinned, “He’s probably the one that put it in her, lucky prick.”

Bakugou wished he was the one that positioned the toy inside you, although he definitely wouldn’t have made it to the bar if he had. There’s nothing in this world that could’ve torn him away from your pretty little cunt.

“Can you get her to send us a picture?” Denki continued, “Do you have pictures?”

Bakugou had multiple pictures, and videos, of you using the toy. It had originally been a way for him to help you climax whenever he was called away on long missions, a fun addition to the already steamy video calls you’d have at random hours. The time differences were often large as he’d find himself fisting his cock for you on camera at four in the morning, helping you to cum just before you were getting ready for bed.

“Shut up, asshole.” Bakugou growled.

There was no way he was going to show them a picture of you, especially how hot you looked right now. Remembering the photograph you’d sent him just as he made it to the bar, of you spread out against soft sheets as you gave the camera a sultry gaze. Man, he really was a fucking idiot coming out tonight and leaving you at home.

“Oh, he’s definitely got pictures,” Sero smirked, “Look at the look on his face. I bet she looks hot in them too—”

“Don’t you dare, you fuck.” Bakugou made a swipe for the phone, but Sero was quicker. Handing the cellphone off to Denki as he leaned forward to pick up his bottle of beer with a chuckle, taking a large swig from it as he leaned against Denki’s shoulder to watch his friend play with the app.

“Have you used this when she’s out in public?” Denki asked, looking across the booth at Bakugou while his finger criss-crossed over the screen with speed— probably torturing your poor pussy with the intense changes.

“No.” Bakugou answered curtly. Neither of you had really toyed with the device outside long distance, but it’s definitely something that you’d both talked about before. You’d even suggested he wear it one night, so he could feel exactly what it did to you for himself.

“Man, that’s so boring.” Denki pouted, “If she was my girlfriend I’d have her wearing it to the grocery store.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to make a girl cum by yourself.” Bakugou scoffed, taking another sip of his drink as Denki scrunched his nose in response.

“Yeah I do,” Denki turned the screen to face him, giving anyone in the bar who looked over a glimpse at the adult app on the phone in use right now, “In fact I’m gonna make your girl cum without even touching her.”

Bakugou hoped you weren’t coming right now, especially with how intense Denki had the vibrations. He knew you were already riled up and desperate, and this was exactly what you needed to have you tumbling over the edge. But he’d never live it down if Denki was the one to make you climax, he’d never hear the end of it.

“You should invite her next time, man. We could do this with her here.” Denki continued, his finger pausing on the screen while the dot was sat at its highest point. Indicating that the vibrations were on the most intense setting as Bakugou pictured you writhing against the sheets while the toy buzzed inside you. Picturing the creamy slick that drooled out of your hole at the sensation and stuck to your plush thighs. Wishing that he was there to clean you up instead of fantasizing about it. His cock jumped at the thought as he palmed himself subtly through his jeans while shifting in his seat.

God, he had to go home and bury himself inside you.

“Can I have a go?” Kirishima mumbled shyly, his cheeks glowing as red as his hair as he fisted his beer bottle nervously.

“Knock yourself out, man.” Denki held the cellphone out to Kirishima like it belonged to him, the dot still sat at the highest point on the screen.

What Bakugou hadn’t been expecting is the amount of teasing Kirishima was doing for you. His thumb barely moving the circle above the slowest setting, the low rumble of the toy inside you would’ve been barely enough for anyone and Bakugou knew it had to be driving you crazy right now.

You[9.40PM]: I told you to stop being a tease. I was about to cum. :(((

“Oh, she’s texting you.”

Kirishima showed him the screen as he read the text, and Bakugou had never been so happy that Kirishima had managed to seize control of his phone and the app before Denki had a chance to actually make you climax.

Breathing a sigh of relief as he grinned in satisfaction, certain he’d never hear the end of it (from you or Denki) if he’d managed to make you cum.

Kirishima was gentle and cautious as he continued playing with the app, barely letting the vibrations go above the middle of the screen. But thick fingers continued to make it constant, pushing down to wiggle the line every few seconds as he began to make almost swirling patterns against the device.

“Come on, man. Turn it up to the max.” Denki whined, his arms going across the table in a silent plea to get the phone back into his hands.

“So you can make her completely numb?” Sero scoffed, “You know she’d stop being able to feel anything with you.”

“She’d be able to feel a lot.” Denki grabbed at his crotch crudely as the men sat at the table began to laugh, even Bakugou snorted as he took a large swig of his beer. He had to get home to you soon.

“You ain’t ever made a girl cum in their life so what makes you think you could make my girl cum?” Bakugou deadpanned as Denki pouted.

“I have too!” He whined.

“Oh yeah? When was that?” Sero pried.

“Come on, man. Don’t be on his side—”

“The girls on those camsites don’t count, I’m pretty certain they fake it too.”

“I don’t even use those anymore.”

“Oh wow.” Kirishima breathed deeply when Bakugou turned his attention back to his best friend. Noticing he’d opened the texting app and now a photograph you’d just sent sat open on the screen.

“What the fuck, man?” Bakugou grunted, grabbing his phone off Kirishima has he shielded the screen with his body. Curling over the table as he held the device beneath it.

“I’m sorry, it’s not my fault. I saw the notification and I clicked it—” Panic was evident in Kirishima’s tone as he begun a feeble attempt to explain himself. An attempt that would’ve been easier were it not for the alcohol currently circling through his veins, his voice slurred as his eyes glazed over. Trying to commit the picture he’d just seen of you to memory, as though he’d just had a near death experience and had witnessed the pearly gates.

“Let me see,” Denki practically begged, “God, dude. Please— let me see. Eiji got to see, it’s not fair!”

“Shut up,” Bakugou cut both men off, trying to focus on the picture you’d just sent.

It was a photograph taken from above your body, between the gap of your thighs and your chubby mound as he noticed the dark stain that now splashed across your bedsheets. Bakugou sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when he noticed the text message that you’d sent with it.

You[9.45PM]: You just made me squirt omg

You[9.46PM]: You’re cleaning that up when you get home it’s not my fault :(((

“Fuck, she squirted.” Bakugou mumbled, eyes roaming your exposed skin and the mess you’d made on the screen.

That’s it, he was going home to you now.

“What?!” Denki gasped in surprise, practically jumping over the table in the booth to read the messages, “You made her squirt?”

“Clearly it was me that got her close enough to do it,” Sero grinned, “Eij just got lucky to get her last.”

“And she sent a picture? Can I see it, man? Please.” Denki looked as though he was about to cry, his knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of the table, “Please just one pic.”

Bakugou chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, debating on whether to show the personal picture you’d sent. A picture that had clearly been intended for his eyes only— but he’d explain to you later.

Turning the screen to the rest of the table, ensuring it faced away from the busy bar as his friends leaned in to look at it. Eyes darting across the imagine to try and memorise it in the few seconds that Bakugou had given them.

“Holy fucking shit.” Sero grinned.

“That’s not fair that you get to go home to that,” Denki threw his head against the back of the booth with a groan, “I’d lick it off the floor.”

“You’re such a fuckin’ freak.” Bakugou sneered, scrunching his nose at the debauched comment.

Locking his phone before leaning forward to pick his beer bottle up to down the rest of its contents, slamming the empty bottle back down on the table as he grabbed his jacket.

“Well, you’ve seen what I’ve got waiting for me at home, I’m out.” Bakugou fist bumped Sero as before shrugging his jacket back on.

“Any chance at a video call?” Denki pleaded, clasping his hands together as Bakugou shot him a glare, “What? I’m just asking.”

Bakugou text you as he left the bar, moving quick on his feet to get home to you as quickly as possible as he hailed a taxi.

Bakugou[9.52PM]: I’m not cleaning that up when I get home, I’m making it worse.

[in-class-daydreams]

Imagine nearly beating a bitch when they imply that ex-husband Gojo was anything but completely devoted.

Being married to one of the most powerful sorcerers in history was bound to garner some rumors. But the the rumor mill really went wild after your divorce.

You'd grown to ignore the rumors that Satoru left because you were unable to have children after Sen. Or that his Clan ordered you to divorce (though they would have if they could). Or that you weren't a strong enough sorcerer to maintain his interest. People could make up all kinds of baseless things, so you grew to ignore them quickly enough.

But of all the cruel, accusatory, presumptuous rumors surrounding your divorce, one stood far above the rest.

"Satoru Gojo's wife left him because of his wandering eye."

As if people knew anything about him. About how "devotion" is the core of his personality.

So, yes, you might have sent an up-and-coming clan heir through a wall at an official meeting. But she had it coming.

Sukuna sighs and yanks you back into your seat. "Calm down. The bitch doesn't know what she's talking about."

"Excuse me?" the young heir gasped. "How dare you speak of me that way?"

You flick a hand and send a water snake directly at her face, making sure to direct it at an angle that would force water right up her sinuses. She coughs and gags.

"Satoru was utterly devoted to me and our son. Our marriage may not have lasted, but he is still the most loving man I've ever met. If I ever hear another nasty comment about him from you again, I will remove your tongue," you growl.

The other clan staff sitting around the table gape at you. No one moves to help the young heir.

"Looks like this meeting's over," Sukuna drawls, gathering his papers. "Good thing. This was such a waste of time. Come back when you actually have something for me that makes sense." He shifts into his Ryomen form and uses his extra arms to grab your stuff. "C'mon, brat. I'm done with these idiots."

~

Imagine doing a consultation at Tokyo High and being a little extra nice to ex-husband Gojo.

"I organized each file with color tabs. They're pretty self-explanatory," you explain, handing over the stack.

"And here's to think you could hardly read when we met," Satoru teases.

"Hilarious," you deadpan. "And I left a bag of sandwiches and a gallon of cut fruit for you in the employee fridge. Don't forget to eat again or I'll force feed you myself."

Satoru's eyebrows lift. "Oh. That's different. What brought this on? Are you buttering me up for something? What'd you do?"

You scoff and make to leave his office. "I just don't need Suguru to complain to me about you passing out or something. Don't think about it too hard."

"Alright, thanks."

Just before you cross the threshold, you hear, "Thank you for defending me. You didn't have to do that."

You turn halfway and eye him warily. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Kuna ratted you out."

"Of course he did."

"Nice try, though." He gives you a rare smile.

Satoru never smiled much. He laughed, pouted, or sly grinned plenty, but you hadn't seen his gentle smile in a while. It made him look younger.

"Well." You shrug. "Bitches who don't know any better should keep their mouths shut."

He laughs. "The Teenage Jailbird version of you still jumps out sometimes, I see."

"She gets the job done." You linger in the doorway for a moment. Then you move before you can change your mind.

Satoru turns his chair to face you when you run round the desk and lets out a soft "oof" when you lock him in a tight embrace. Your clench fistfuls of his uniform jacket.

"It's okay." Satoru pats your back. "I'm not hurt. Really."

You have to pry yourself from him, but you manage. Wiping a stray tear - that even Satoru is surprised to see - you nod resolutely.

"Okay, well. Don't forget to eat or whatever. Bye, Satoru."

Satoru watches you speed walk down the hall. The six eyes pick up on you stopping outside the school gates and running your hands down your face. Once you're gone, he returns to his admin work newly energized.

It was hard to explain to you when you were married, but those little moments of affirmation made all the difference to him.

~ Thanks for reading!

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

[luveline]

hii jade are u going to write something about hotchner!reader and spencer any soon?

—You panic when Spencer’s late for a date. He makes it up to you as best as he can. fem, 2.6k

cw implied past child abuse

You weren’t young when you were adopted, so you were instilled very quickly with the need to be grateful. How lucky you were to be given a second chance at a family. How you owed it to your new family to be the perfect daughter and sister to a father who didn’t like you and two brothers your senior. 

Family for you is complicated. It always has been. You didn’t get the unconditional love you’d hoped for in all of them, but you have one older brother who loves you as though you and him are two branches of the same tree, and maybe that’s enough for anyone. 

“Yes!” Aaron cheers, jumping up from the bench. 

You spin around with a grin that’s half shy, half ecstatic. “I did it!” 

Jack runs up to your legs. “You got a strike!” 

You pretend to give him a karate chop. “Boosh! Double strike.” You grin as Aaron sizes up the pins down the long ally. “Think your dad can get one before we run out of turns?” 

“No!” Jack laughs. 

You laugh at his easy answer. His father, determined now in the face of your disbelief, picks up a number twelve ball and stands at the arrows to take his last turn. You brace your hands on Jack’s shoulders and wait for the line to be put down again. 

You’re pretty sure he’s throwing his turns to let Jack win. You’d not done the same until you realised the yawning gap in the scores, and maybe you’d feel embarrassed for not noticing if Aaron ever made you feel bad for anything, but he doesn’t. 

Your phone rings as he pulls back his arm. You ignore it. “Good luck, dad!” Jack says under your hands. 

It’s that good luck that gives Aaron his strike. You cheer with Jack as the ball glides straight into the first pin and veers on a spin toward the third, creating a wave of noise and action as the pins go flying back toward the baseboard. 

Aaron turns around with a huge smile. “Jack!” 

“You did it!” Jack cheers back. “Not first, but you did!” 

You grab your phone from your pocket. “Couldn’t let me have it, could you?” you ask. 

“What do you mean?” Aaron picks Jack up from the floor to hold against his chest, pointing at the screen with love. “Look at that, buddy, you won! Can you see that? You got the most points!” Aaron kisses his cheek, high on happiness. “Wow!” 

You have two missed calls from Spencer. To Aaron’s begrudgement, you and Spencer are actually going steady. The first attraction didn’t fizzle, the dates turned to dating turned to exclusivity; Spencer Reid is your boyfriend, and he’s supposed to be taking you out to dinner in ten minutes. 

“Everything okay?” Aaron asks, creeping closer to you, Jack still in his arms. 

“It’s fine, he’s just running late.” You notice his small frown. “His mom’s doctor wanted to talk to him, that’s all.” 

“How late is he thinking?” 

The plan was you’d go bowling with your family and then meet Spencer outside to eat at the Chinese restaurant just across the parking lot, but it’s not seeming so sure now. 

“He said half an hour. I’m pretty hungry,” you say, “he’s gotta speak to a psychiatrist about something. I can’t eat though, right? That’s rude.” 

“That’s not rude, honey. You can’t help being hungry as much as he can’t help being late.” As you’d noticed his, he notices your small frown. “You can’t go hungry,” he says with a shrug, “so you’re gonna have to come and eat something, but Spencer can join us when he’s done.” 

“Right, because you’ll love that.” 

“I’ve been on more dates with him than you have.” 

You take Jack as he opens his arms toward you. “I forget. I always think of you as his boss, and not his teammate.” 

Aaron grabs Jack’s backpack off of the bench, and your empty cups off of the table to throw away. “I am his boss. Okay, Jack, what do you want for dinner? What sounds good?” 

You, Aaron and Jack leave the bowling alley and end up in the Italian restaurant opposite of your originally proposed restaurant. You carry Jack on your hip and text Spencer with your open hand, content to let Aaron guide you through what little foot traffic there is to your table. Aaron sits on one side of the booth with Jack, and you slide into the other side. 

Spencer’s texts are getting more and more convoluted. He says he’s sorry, and then he says he has to call someone else, and then he needs to talk to his mom. You nibble your fingernail. 

“You okay?” 

You nod slowly. “Yeah, uh… Yes, everything’s fine.” 

“Is Spencer okay?” 

“I think he might cancel.” 

Aaron flattens his menu. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. I think his mom is having a bad day…” 

“What else are you worried about?” 

Jack saves you for a moment, “Dad, can I have juice?” 

“Yes, sweetheart, I’ll get you juice. Apple juice?” 

Jack presses his cheek to Aaron’s arm, earning himself a hug. 

“Are you tired?” Aaron whispers. 

“No.” 

“Okay. Hey, there’s a table over there with some colouring pages and crayons, do you see that? Do you want to do some colouring?” 

“Can I go get some?” Jack asks. 

“Yes. Don’t bump into anybody, okay?” 

The table isn’t far enough to worry, but Aaron splits his attention between Jack and you fairly evenly, just a tad more worry following his son. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Aaron asks. 

“You don’t think Spencer would lie, do you?” you ask. 

“Lie about his mother? I doubt it very much.” 

You trust Aaron, and you trust Spencer too, but Aaron has earned that trust over years and years where Spencer has been gifted it. He hasn’t done anything to break it, but he hasn’t proved he should have it yet either. And really, truly, it isn’t actually about what you believe of Spencer. 

You feel a bit nauseous, but your brother is the best person in the world, so you tell him why without preamble, “I’m worried that he’s going to get sick of me.” 

“Why would he do that?” Aaron asks. 

You scratch at the menu beneath your hand rather than meet his eyes. Because you’re awful. That’s what your father instilled in you, and it’s what you’ve come to learn. Eventually, the people who love you get tired of you. Everyone except Aaron, and isn't that proof of something? He’s the only man good enough to pretend you’re someone worth caring about. 

If he could hear your thoughts he’d probably cry. It’s why you’ve struggle to tell him. 

You rub your thumb into the side of your index finger, feeling the texture of your skin. “I think people just do.” 

Jack returns quickly, with paper and a huge fist full of crayons, though there are four colours altogether. “Well,” Aaron says, helping Jack back into his seat, crayons rolling released from a small fist every which way, “I don't. And Jack doesn’t, Haley doesn’t. I see no reason why Spencer would feel that way.” 

“What don’t I do?” Jack asks, frowning at his dad. 

“You don’t think Aunt Y/N’s bad at bowling, do you?” 

“You’re great at bowling!” Jack's eyes go wide. “I’m gonna make us a photo, to remember. We got strikes!” 

You let your face fall into your hand as Aaron strokes hair up the side of Jack’s head. It’s a soothing thing to see, you know the soft touch of his hand well, having been petted and patted through a hundred different bad moments. 

Spencer probably isn’t lying about why he’s late, but he could be. You wouldn’t blame him. 

“She’s very good at bowling,” Aaron says, hugging Jack to his side. “And so many other things, that’s why we love her. Should we make a list?” 

He used to love doing that, too. 

Your father wasn’t a nice or kind man. Aaron doesn’t know how it escalated, only knows what happened to him, and how he’d come to see you and you’d burst into tears the second he asked how you were. 

If Aaron knew how bad it was at the time he would’ve forced you to leave, but you never told the whole truth. He assumed it to be a mixture of everything —school was awful, dad was worse, and you were more isolated than most. 

Make me a list, he’d say. 

The first time you didn’t get it. You were a teenager sitting on his couch, his wife in the kitchen, a weight on your chest. What for? 

A list of the stuff that’s bothering you. 

Do you need a list? you’d asked. He had a knack for knowing more than you could say. 

I think we should make one. 

You realise now it was a strategy to calm you down. If you could quantify the things that were depressing you, you could begin to understand it, and hopefully dismantle some of the bigger problems. It didn’t always work, but it didn’t matter. It made you feel better just to have you and Aaron on the same couch with a notebook and a number two pencil. Don’t see my brother enough, he’d written with a sad face. 

Brother, you’d thought with a secret joy. He’s your brother. 

Jack and Aaron make a list they won’t show you. You order drinks and then dinner, waiting for a phone call or a text back you don’t receive. It’s disheartening, and when your pasta arrives, you can barely eat. 

“Honey,” Aaron says, “why don’t you go call him? You can see if he’s alright.” 

You poke at a shell with a tightly gripped fork. “What if he doesn’t want me to call him? It sounds serious.” 

“Maybe that’s why you should call him. I think he’d appreciate it.” He looks like he wants to reach for you, but ultimately, he doesn’t. “Take a minute for yourself, if nothing else. Everything’s okay, I promise.” 

“Sorry.” 

“For what?” Jack asks. 

You smile regretfully. “I’m just feeling confused today, babe. What about you? Are you confused about where your mouth is?” you tease lightly. 

Aaron gasps a laugh and reaches over to wipe Jack down with a napkin as you slip from the booth. You take your phone, worrying that Aaron’s eyes are on your back as you pass by the host booth and back out onto the street. The breeze kisses your clammy skin. 

Why do you assume that no one really likes you? It’s difficult to comprehend. Your thumb hovers over Spencer’s contact photo, debating, and debating. Should you call him? He might be preoccupied, upset even, and what if you make it worse? But if you don’t call him, you can’t reassure yourself that you’re not in trouble. 

He answers on the third trill. 

“Hello?” you ask. 

“Hey!” There’s a sound like something heavy has been put down. “Hey, I’m so sorry!” 

“Don’t be sorry!” you say immediately. “It’s okay. Are you okay?” 

Spencer’s voice is a little high and fast, but beside that, he has a nice tenor. When he’s calm and feeling up to it, alone at night with nothing else to do, he’ll read to you from one of his infinite books, his syllables catching and tripping over air as you rub your nose into his arm. 

“I’m fine! There was a mixup with some medication at the sanitarium and they realised my mom’s dose of one of her antipsychotics has been charted higher than she was really taking, so she’s been having a hard time, it’s a total mess but I think we have it figured out now. How was bowling?” 

“Spencer, are you sure it’s okay?” 

“It’s fine.” He laughs softly, not a hint of condescension or derision for you, but an emotion you can’t name. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to take so long.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“I mean, it’s fine if it’s not okay. I know you can’t help yourself sometimes, but you don’t have to tell me it’s fine if it’s not fine.” 

“Uh–” You cough around it. “No, it really is. You can’t help it. Family is important, right?” 

“It’s so important. Listen, where are you right now?” 

“I’m just standing outside of the Pasta Factory by the bowling alley. I tried to have dinner ‘cos I’m starving, but… I think I lost my appetite.” 

“What? Are you okay?” 

“I’m having one of those days, I guess?”

“What kind of day?” 

His voice is bouncing strangely, as though he’s talking near you. You pause, turning on your heel to look down the few stairs into the parking lot asphalt. 

Spencer’s walking up them, a bouquet of roses in his hands. 

“Hi,” you say, the phone still pressed to your ear. 

Spencer puts his away. “Hi. 

His hug is full, all-encompassing and warm as he wraps his arms around you, the bouquet a cacophony of crinkling against your shoulder. He smells like aftershave, his Tom Ford one with the woody tinge that has you pressing your nose into the top of his shoulder to just breathe. Your phone digs into his spine. He doesn’t say anything about it. 

“Hey,” he says softly, giving you a similar swaying, back and forth. “I’m sorry I’m late, I had to call them, but it wasn’t fair on you.” 

“Spencer,” you say, holding him tightly. “You’re my boyfriend.” 

“Don’t sound so unsure.” 

“No, but. We can be flexible, right?” 

“Of course we can, but I’m still sorry.” He peels back to smile at you, his eyes gently squinted. “So what’s wrong? What’s making it one of those days?” 

You can’t explain it to him. He likely doesn’t need you to. 

You’re expecting him to pull away —you’re in a public place and affection isn’t his usual expertise— but he doubles down. New boyfriend or not, this hug feels like it’s from somebody who’s loved you for years and years. 

“What’s making it a bad day?” he asks quietly. 

“I don’t know…” You rub your nose self indulgently against his shoulder. 

“Are you sure you have no appetite? Maybe that’s what it is? Stuff tends to feel bigger or more upsetting when we’re hungry because low blood sugar prompts your body to release more hormones that affect your cortisol level, and cortisol plays a big part in how your mind interprets your emotions.” Spencer pulls away, his hand sliding up your shoulder to hold you in place. He grins. “So I think you should still let me take you to dinner. Especially if you didn’t eat much.” 

Why would Spencer lie to you? you think, relieved. He wouldn’t. And the idea that he’s going to get sick of you, that’s rooted in bad lessons from a poor situation. It’s not a reflection on you. 

“We will,” you decide, “I just have to get my stuff. I left my bag, and Jack’s writing me a list.” 

“What list?” 

“A list of stuff I’m good at.” 

He doesn’t waver. “Really? Can I add stuff too?” You turn your nose up in an unsubtle prompting, satisfied when Spencer gives you a quick, smiling kiss. “Sorry,” he says, though his apology is distracted by a fond undertone, “I missed you.” 

You receive a few more gentle kisses for all your worries, and you begin to feel better. Spencer presses the roses into your hand and encourages you into the restaurant with his hand spread behind your back. 

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction To You Panty-Flashing Them

Warnings: Implied Smut, Mean! MW2, Dominant! MW2, Victim/Reader Blaming, Slut-Shaming, Reader Getting Pimped Out, Mention of a Leash, Allusions to Injury, Mentions of Blood, Petnames, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Ghost

Ghost is a territorial man. So seeing you flash not only him but Johnny as well made something in him simmer.

It wasn’t rage, for this little accident, regardless of how intentional it was, was not your fault. If he had to place it, he’d attribute it to…

Lust.

As was evident in how he excused himself from the gathering of the 141 and Los Vaqueros in your living room, grabbing you by your arm.

He stowed you away. Dragged you to a desolate laundry room and gripped you by your thighs. You gasped, gripped onto him. Felt something hard rub against you.

Ghost threw you atop the washing machine and gave you a harsh stare as he watched you try to fight the feeling building within from the machine’s buzzing and shuffling.

“Go on then, Doll,” he rasps, eyes hard and the throbbing monster between his legs harder. He palmed himself. Remorse was not in his nature. And neither was mercy.

“Seein’ as you were practically beggin’ the others to fuck you, go and put on a show.”

His voice lowered. He stood between your legs, frame blocking you from any form of help or salvation.

“Just for me.”

König

König had been sat on your sofa, an action figure in a house for a doll half his size, and you’d bent over to retrieve something from beneath the TV cabinet.

The fact that you were wearing a pair of König’s shorts was already clouding his moral compass. Seeing your underwear peeking out beneath them was what sent him over the edge.

As you remained bent, cheek pressed to the floor as you reached for what you’d lost, you didn’t hear König approach. Didn’t know he’d even moved from the sofa until something thick and hard was pressed to the back of you, followed by two heavy hands holding you at the waist, and a slow, shuttering breath.

“Don’t move,” König told you. “Stay like this.”

Slowly, he pressed deeper into you. You could feel his restraint unwinding second by second.

It was when he bent over you, had his broad chest pressed to your back, that you knew you weren’t escaping. And you weren’t backing down.

“I’m gonna fuck you ‘til you cum, bleed or pass out.” König’s voice held no humour, but you could feel the franticity building in it.

He reached round, gripped your chin. Made you look at him. His smile was sharp, his features dark.

“Whichever comes first.”

Soap

Johnny pulled the leash tighter around your throat when you tried to protest your innocence. Tried to make him see reason.

“Doesn’t matter that it was ‘just an accident’.” He mimicked you, made you sound weak, whiny. His eyes hardened and his jaw clenched. His knuckles turned white around the leash.

His shadow loomed over you from your position on the bed, on your hands and knees while Johnny presided over you with an iron fist.

Tears obscured his silhouette. Made your eyes glassy.

“Aww, Did I upset you, Bonnie?” Johnny’s tone held a gruffness that didn’t even try to hide the anger running beneath.

He huffed, a mocking laugh.

“How’d’ya think I felt when you were practically spreading your legs for Simon?”

Again, you tried to tell him what really happened. Tried to incur any fragment of mercy Soap would spare you.

He pulled on the leash again. Tighter. You gasped, hands flying up to the leather around your neck, trying to loosen it – to plead for Johnny’s favour – as the air was knocked out of you.

“Oh no, you don’t get to talk.” He said. He stepped to you. The bulge in his jeans became ever more noticeable. Impending.

“M’gonna use you like the whore you are ‘til my cum’s leaking out of every hole in your body.”

Valeria

“Do I look like I fucking care, Darling?” Valeria circled you, her belt wrapped around her hand, a glint of darkness in her eye.

Wrists and ankles duct-taped to the chair, you could do little to follow her. To understand her intentions.

“Do you really think whatever little lie you pass off as an excuse can quell the fire you’ve set?”

Before you could attest your innocence, beg for forgiveness, Valeria’s belt came down across your thighs. Crying out, you flinched, tried to withdraw, pushing your chair back in the process.

Valeria lunged forward and gripped the chair by the arms, pressing your skin into the wood, and dragged you back.

Her face twisted into a visceral snarl, the portrait of evil.

“Please, Valeria, I’m begging you–”

“Oh, you’ll beg for me, alright.” Valeria looked down at you, her face to yours. Just shy of your noses touching. With bared teeth, she smiled.

“I won’t stop until you do.”

Price

“If you wanted attention that badly, you could’ve just asked.”

Price had your arms and legs bound to a hard, wooden chair while a thick ream of cloth had your mouth gagged. He stood over you, arms crossed over his front, a glint in his eye. He sighed, brought his hands to grip your tied forearms. Pressed them into the armrests.

You winced.

“What…possessed you to go and show your arse to Alejandro and the rest of the team?” His voice reflected a tone of ponderment found only in Sarcasm’s extended family tree. And it showed with the faux confusion written in his brow.

“Do I just not cut it for you?” He leaned in. The chair creaked. Your arms hurt. He didn’t let up.

“Am I not enough to keep you from throwing yourself at the nearest soldier?”

He watched you, his stare narrow. You shook your head, eyes wide. You tried speaking through the gag, tried to tell him that he was the only man you loved, but you both knew your efforts were futile.

He withdrew, gripped his belt, adopted his default stance. He heaved a deep breath.

“Come in, lads,” he called behind him, not taking his gaze off you. Your stomach tightened.

A thin smile stretched across Price's lips as he watched your eyes widen, your gaze following Simon, Soap, Gaz, Rudy and Alejandro as they filtered into the room.

Price bowed at the waist, lowered his voice so only you could hear.

“Seeing as you’re so keen to show ‘em what’s under your clothes, I’m gonna let them use you ‘til you’ve learnt your lesson.”

Horangi

Hong-Jin popped the top button of his jeans, keeping his gaze trained on you, spearing you with a dark stare.

“Did you enjoy giving König and I a little show, Dear?”

Sarcasm nestled in his tone, a viper in a den. But the excitement running parallel beneath it, just shy of its transparent underbelly, was evident.

Hong-Jin slid the zip of his jeans down. Pulled the denim over his hips.

“It’s only fair that I…” He took your hand, placed it at the hem of his underwear. Dipped beneath the band.

His skin was scorching. Something pulsated beneath your fingers.

The implication sat heavy in his tone. In his eyes.

“Return the favour.”

Alejandro

“I didn’t know I was dating such an attention-seeking whore.”

Alejandro’s voice was the roll of thunder across a darkened valley, the weight of a downpour of knives settled into his tone.

Hands behind his back, he stood over you, having resigned you to sitting on your knees, the hardwood floor pushing against your joints.

“Luckily for you, I’m not the type to hold grudges.” A smile played at his lips. One you knew not to trust.

“But he is.”

Alejandro looked to the door, where, from beyond its frame, emerged Rudy. His face held a similar, serpentine pallor, his lips drawn up into a thin smile. Venom in his veins.

“Wasn’t expecting to get blue-balled by (Y/N) earlier, Ale,” came Rudy, his usually sugared demeanour having dropped, the veil between what he was and what he showed to the world slipping away. Retreating.

Alejandro gave him a knowing look. He turned back to you.

“Why don’t you be a good little doll and put your face to the floor. Just like we practised.”

The memory of leashes, lashings and tears flooded your memory. You held back a  wanton whimper.

Alejandro’s voice dropped. “And let Rudy see the rest of what you promised him.”

Rodolfo

“I don’t want to have to do this, Cariño. Rudy stood over you, his hands on your shoulders and his face dark. Grim.

His hold on your shoulders tightened.

“But I can’t let your behaviour go…”

He searched your eyes for the right word. His brow furrowed when he found it.

“Unchecked.”

He sighed. Pushed down on your shoulders.

“Come on, Angel. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He told you, pushing harder until you bent to his will.

Now, on your knees, you could see how desperately he needed you.

One hand came to your jaw, thumb trailing to your lip, pulling your mouth open. The other slid down to his belt, sliding it from the buckle. It hissed, pulled tight against the metal. You swallowed.

Rudy’s breath shuttered, and you could tell from the way his hand clenched, the way he slipped the belt from his jeans like a snake, that he was enjoying this. Much more than he wanted to let on.

“Now remember, mi Amor, no teeth, no biting.” His head tilted. Condescending. “Or I’ll bite you back.”

Graves

He can barely contain himself.

It was only the briefest of flashes. It wasn’t even intentional. But something about your shy smile after the fact once you realised what you’d done sent a vicious little idea to Graves’s head.

He starts stealing all your underwear. Gradually, yet in large enough volumes that he doesn’t have to wait longer than he can handle without his reward.

One day, you come into his office, face warm and tugging an oversized shirt over the top of your thighs.

“Missing something, Darlin’?” Graves drawls. Your eyes narrow at him. You know he’s had something to do with your underwear’s disappearing act.

He puts his papers down, sighs, and rests the back of his head in his hands against the backrest of his chair.

“How about you flash me again. Slowly, now.” His eyes glint with a dark mischief and want.

“Y’don’t wanna know what happens if you don't do it the way I like it.”

Gaz

“Oh, Darling, look what you’ve done,” Gaz’s voice carried despite the thickening tension in the room. Neither of you needed to look down to see what he was referring to.

Despite the chastising tone in his voice, his eyes were warm. Kind, almost.

“If you wanted my attention so badly, you only had to ask.”

He stepped towards you, placing a hand under your jaw. He smiled.

“It’s only fair that I reward you for being so creative, isn’t it ?”

His other hand came to your shoulder, pushing the strap of your tank top until it fell, leaving the sweeping juncture between your neck and shoulder exposed.

Has bit back a shuttering breath.

Despite his gentile voice, an angeline choir, the soundtrack of mercy, there lay a hunger in his eyes, in his barely-restrained grip, that suggested a beast lurked beneath his pretty boy exterior.

And you knew from the way he told you to “Get on the bed – be good for me,” that you’d be seeing it tonight.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Nursle.

Pairing: Yandere!Gojo Satoru x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 3.4k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Mentions of Pregnancy, Implied Stalking, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lactation, Slight Breeding Kinks, Daddy Kinks, Mentions of Abusive Relationships, and Age Gaps (Gojo is 20, Reader is 35+).

[Part Two] [Part Three]

A few days into the new school year, you decided that Gojo Satoru could not be Fushiguro Megumi’s primary guardian, despite what the paperwork filed by the former claimed. Honestly, the fact that Megumi’s name had been misspelled in every conceivable way across the aforementioned paperwork should’ve been enough to make that clear, but after a decade of teaching, you’d learned to pick up on the smaller signs; a certain discomfort that passed through Megumi's expression whenever you asked about his homelife, the lapse before a half-hearted answer whenever you posed a question to Satoru as to Megumi's preferences. It didn’t necessarily mean anything bad was going on, just that something was going on - something you couldn’t ignore, not completely.

Four weeks into the new school year, you decided that Fushiguro Megumi did not like Gojo Satoru. All your students were at the age where they were suddenly eager to distance themselves from any adult they could call an authority, but Megumi was the only one still in your classroom hours after the school day ended, the only one who stayed for as long as you could afford to let him. Sometimes, Satoru would make an appearance, loiter outside of your classroom or pass time with the best attempts at small talk someone nearly two decades your junior could make, but Megumi made a habit of ignoring him and try as you might, you'd never had the heart to be very strict with your students. The only days he didn’t stay to help you (as much as a nine year old could help anyone do anything) were the days when his sister was free to pick him up and, much to your relief, Satoru was nowhere to be found.

Two months into the new school year, you found yourself on the doorstep of Gojo Satoru’s listed address which, notably, was not the dingy flat you’d dropped off Megumi in front of whenever he stayed too late to justify letting him walk home alone. Instead, you gaped openly at the skyscraper in front of you, as tall as the eye could see and pouring out the kind of people you couldn’t help but want to get away from. You’d called ahead, let Satoru know you’d be making a home visit to discuss some of your concerns about Megumi, but for as long as he’d kept you on the phone, he’d never bothered to explain why he would ask you to meet him in a place like—

“You’re early, Miss (L/n).”

You stiffened, glanced over your shoulder to find Gojo Satoru – dressed in his usual plain, black uniform and unaccompanied by the student you’d come to discuss. He greeted you with a wide grin, a lazy nod, and you returned it with a purse-lipped smile and a tightened hold on the strap of your messenger bag. “Well, I’d hate to waste your time.” You toyed with the idea of meeting his eyes, but your gaze skirted over the pitch-black lenses of his sunglasses and settled firmly on the collar of his button-up. “And you don’t have to call me that. It makes you sound like one of my students and—” A slight pause, a nervous laugh. “I think you might be a little too old to blend in.”

Satoru’s grin only widened. With only your own paranoia as warning, he strung an arm through the crook of yours, dragging you towards the entrance of his looming tower. “I think it’s got a nice ring to it, Miss.”

Something sharp pricked at the back of your throat.

In hindsight, it might’ve been easier to do this with the nine year old.

You kept your teeth grit and your smile plastered on as he led you through the lobby – all shining crystal chandeliers and glistening marble floors – and hauled you into a gold-gilded elevator, the kind that would’ve let you know you were somewhere you didn’t belong under normal circumstances. You watched in stomach-knotting, heart-stopping terror as the numbers ticked up, up, up, until the mirrored doors were sliding open and you were stepping into the living room that could’ve swallowed your shoebox of an apartment whole. Your heels (blocked, low, practical – the only pair you’d found the strength to wear since coming back from your leave) clicked against the bare tile floor as you stumbled into the remarkably open space, his furniture sparse and largely utilitarian. You spotted one of Megumi’s drawings on a low coffee table, a pile of Tsumiki’s hairbands forgotten on an otherwise empty bookshelf, but any other signs of life were either nonexistent or exceptionally well-hidden. Any hope you had that Megumi and Satoru’s situation might’ve just been that of a young, overburdened guardian and his slow-to-warm ward evaporated immediately. Those of limited means tended not to live in penthouses that cost triple your annual salary in rent.

If Satoru noticed your growing anxiety, he didn’t seem to pay it any mind. With an exaggerated yawn, he strode past you and collapsed onto a leather couch – too pristine to have been recently visited by two hyperactive children. When you stalled near the entryway, he let his head lull to the side, his tinted glasses falling low on the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to be shy. There’s plenty of room – not that I mind the view, if you really wanna stand.”

You took a deep breath and let it out in a long, labored exhale. He’s practically a kid, you reminded yourself. You could only be thankful you hadn’t gotten him a couple of years ago – otherwise, you’d be dealing with an actual child.

Reluctantly, you squared your shoulders and perched yourself on the far edge of the sofa. Satoru immediately closed the distance, draping his lanky arms over the back of the couch, his fingertips just barely brushing against your shoulder. You pulled your messenger bag into your lap, opening your mouth as you looked for Megumi’s file, but Satoru cut in before you could start your well-practiced monologue. “This is your first year at his school, right? I’d remember if I saw a teacher as pretty as you around campus.”

“It’s my first year back,” you corrected. “I’ve noticed Megumi very introverted for a boy his—”

“Let me guess – maternity leave?”

Your lips quirked into a tight frown. Fighting the urge to cross your arms over your stomach self-consciously, you sent him a withering look out of the corner of your eye. “I’d rather not talk about my personal life, if it’s all the same to you. Like I said, I’m not here to waste your time.”

Your tone was clipped, your voice strict, but Satoru’s only response was an airy chuckle, a careless grin. “I’m not in a rush,” he said. “But you’re probably eager to get back home to your baby girl. I know you try to spend time with her on weekends.”

This time, you didn’t try to breathe. Letting your bag fall back to your side, you moved to stand, but Satoru was quick to catch you by the wrist, to pull you back down with a single, playful jerk. Your bag fell off of your shoulder, hitting the floor and spilling open at your feet, but you didn’t reach for it. He was stronger than he looked, and you already knew everything you had to about strong young men with more power than they knew what to do with. “I’d really rather not talk about myself when Megumi is—”

“Can’t be easy, leaving her all alone like that. Did you ask your neighbor to babysit again, or was it that brat of a teenager you call up on weekends?” His hand fell to your thigh, and you immediately regretted wearing a dress, let alone one that ended well before the knee. You’d wanted this to seem causal, unintrusive, but as his fingertips bit into the plush of your thigh, you regretted not going straight to the police as soon as you noticed something strange. “Can’t be easy, not having a husband to dote on you and the little princess anymore.”

You keep your eyes on your feet, on one of the manilla folders spilling out of your bag. Megumi's name was scrawled messily across the upper right corner in red pen, because red was his favorite color and you knew he would see it every time he helped you organize paperwork for your other students. “I appreciate your concern, but we’ve managed to take care of ourselves.”

“I know.” He was close, too close. You could feel his breath, hot and humid, against the shell of your ear. “It’s just that I think I might just be able to take care of you a little better.”

“I think I should leave.” You spoke slowly, your tone flat, factual. Like you were talking to a child, or a dog, or worst of all – a man in monks' clothing, ready to worship at his own alter. “Before either of us does anything we might regret.”

Satoru let his lead lull forward, his fanged smile biting into the corner of your jaw.

You tried to bolt, but it was already too late.

It happened too quickly for you to process. One second, you were writhing in your own skin, your favorite student’s neglectful guardian pressed into your side and the next, you were on your back, splayed over the length of his couch, Satoru’s knee between your open legs and his hands on either side of your head. Your body reacted before your mind, trying to run, to resist, to get away from him, but Satoru’s hand was on your chest before you could so much as sit up, keeping you trapped underneath him without a trace of effort. “You can stop working so hard, momma.” His glasses had fallen away completely, revealing eyes as blinding as the cloudless sky and as unfeeling as raw ice. It was hard to remember why you’d ever thought a man like this could ever have anything to do with a boy as sweet as Megumi. “Daddy’s gonna take real good care of you.”

You shouldn’t have been so worried about the dress. It didn’t matter how long your skirt was, not when the cheap material fell apart so easily under his eager touch – your bra and panties discarded with just as little thought. You panicked, started to kick and shove and thrash, but his hands were already locked over your hips, keeping you pinned to the couch as he bent down and buried his face between your thighs. However young you’d thought he was, he must’ve been younger; his inexperience shining through in the overzealous way he nipped at the inside of your thighs, how hastily he laved the flat of his tongue over your slit. His pace was rough, his technique nonexistent, but you couldn’t remember the last time you had time to touch yourself, and you hadn’t slept with someone else since…

This time, when your mind went blank, you were the one willing away fractured thoughts and bitter memories. You didn’t want to acknowledge the twisted pleasure Satoru was forcing onto your body either, but it would’ve been impossible to ignore the way his teeth grazed over your clit as he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, to not hear the slick sound you just couldn’t seem to believe a part of you would make as he forced two fingers into your tight pussy. You threw your head back, clenched your eyes shut, but no amount of aversion could seem to block out his throaty laugh, to make the reverberations his deep voice sent pulsing through your cunt anything short of unbearable. “Needy little thing,” he muttered, pulling away just far enough to press a lingering kiss into the apex of your hip. “Bet he was neglecting you even before you ran off. Is that why you had to leave him? He didn’t know how to treat a pretty thing like you?”

You would’ve given anything to make him stop talking, but you didn’t have a chance to try and bargain. While his fingers pumped mercilessly into your pussy, his mouth pushed slow, wet kisses into the rounded curves of your stomach, your midriff, your chest. He noticed it before you did; saw the thin trail of thin, near-transparent fluid running down the curve of your chest before you felt the telltale soreness in your breasts, managed to draw a connection between that and the shallow, airy moan Satoru let out as he ran his tongue over your leaking nipple. He took long, agonizing seconds to lick up the spilled milk before his lips found the closest nipple and finally, he latched onto you properly.

He was worse than your newborn. It was an awful thing to think, it was a terrible thing to have to think, but it was true. He was rough, and clumsy, and noisy – groaning as he lapped and sucked, eager to swallow down anything you had to give. Drool seeped out of the corner of his mouth, whatever pain he might’ve alleviated immediately replaced as the fingertips of his free hand kneaded into your swollen tit. By the time he pulled away, he was panting, scissoring open your pussy with enough force to leave your toes curling, your thighs twitching, little involuntary whimpers slipping past your lips despite your best efforts to choke them back.

He didn’t so much earn your climax as drag it out of you, piece by fractured piece, broken moan by stuttering convulsion. Your hands shot to his head, fingers soon knotted through messy white hair, but he didn’t seem to care, didn’t seem to mind, his attention devoted entirely to spreading open your cunt and milking your chest dry even as the last of the aftershocks faded and the first pangs of overstimulation began to set in. When he did pull away from you, it was with an exaggerated smack of his lips, a teasing nudge of the heel of his palm against your clit, a cocky smirk that reminded you of the expression Megumi would sometimes draw onto his doodled stick figures as they were hit with simplistic, two-dimensional cars or torn apart by black and white wolves. That was something you’d meant to bring up during your conversation with Satoru – Megumi’s tendency towards more violent forms of creativity, how it could be an early sign of emotional unrest in children too young to properly express themselves. Now, you could only wonder why he didn’t draw Satoru more often.

You were barely conscious by the time he drew back working one arm under your back and another under the bend of your knees. You let your eyes fall shut and, by the time you found the strength to open them again, you were on your back, dark satin sheets underneath you and Satoru above, snowy hair providing a much-appreciated barrier between you and those terrible eyes. This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from meeting his prying gaze, and he welcomed your bleary stare, drinking you in for one second, then another, before dipping that much lower and slotting his lips against yours. The kiss was surprisingly gentle – all slow tenderness and delicate warmth. Your mind flitted back to dark eyes and pitch-black hair, pointed teeth and deceiving smiles and you willed yourself not to think at all.

You heard fabric shift, felt his hands curl around your thighs. With an aching sort of slowness, he pushed your knees into your chest, leaving you spread open and vulnerable below him. You felt the head of his cock press against your slick entrance, heard a raspy groan trickle past his lips as he thrust into you – bottoming out in the same stroke.

He didn’t wait for you to adjust to his size. With his face buried in the crook of your neck, he rutted into you with short, brutal thrusts; never pulling out of you entirely, never happy unless his cock was abusing the deepest pocket of your wet heat. Immediately, it was overwhelming – too much stimulation being forced onto you too quickly with too little preparation. Your hands fell to his back, your nails biting into his skin as he fucked into you with a jagged kind of desperation. His cock scraped against something soft and spongy inside of you and you cried out, arching against him. “I can’t— It hurts, Gojo, slow—”

“C’mon, baby, you can do better than that.” His voice was low, airy. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the corner of your jaw, rolled his hips and pressed himself that much deeper into you. “What’s my name? Who’s takin' care of you from now on?”

It was more an act of desperation than anything; a broken plea that you could barely recognize as your own voice. “Daddy,” you sobbed, shrinking against him. “Please, don’t cum insi—”

You were cut off by an unabashed moan, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you. His hips pressed into yours, his thrusts growing shorter, more violent as he pumped something warm and awful into your pussy. At the same time, his thumb found your clit, pushing harsh circles into the vulnerable bundle of nerves and bringing your exhausted body to its second climax. Your vision burnt white as your cunt clenched around him, as his thrusts turned labored and languid, as collapsed against you – limp and boneless. Idly, almost lovingly, he nuzzled into the side of your neck, letting several seconds pass in silence before sighing, the pinnacle of satisfaction. Eventually, he picked himself up, resting his weight on his elbows as he cupped your face. “Pretty girl. I think the brat’s got a crush on you, too – always going on about his favorite teacher, telling me to keep my dirty hands away from you.” He laughed, shook his head. “Think he’ll be excited to have a younger sister?”

You didn’t answer, but Satoru didn’t need you to. He was already picking himself up, already pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck as he straightened his back, staring down at you with eyes that must’ve gone lifeless years ago. Eyes that, despite your best efforts to ignore their similarities, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d seen before.

“Speaking of, I think it’s about time we checked on our baby girl.”

~

Less than an hour later, you found yourself in your makeshift nursery; the corner of your bedroom occupied by a crib and a few shelves of miscellaneous supplies. You sat on the foot of your bed as Satoru held your daughter in his arms, rocking her as she sniffled and threatened to cry. You’d taken a taxi back to your apartment – called up and paid for by Satoru, of course. He’d given the driver your address before you so could so much as process where he was taking you, something you were currently choosing to ignore.

“She looks just like him.” His tone was light, his smile soft. He gestured to your daughter’s curly tufts of dark hair, her brown eyes – both only a shade away from black. “It’ll get worse as she grows up. He was always like that – couldn’t stand to let anyone else be the center of attention.”

You felt sick. Black spots still danced in the corners of your vision, and it took all your strength just to choke something coherent out. “He’ll never meet her. I’d die before I ever let him put his hands on my daughter.”

“I know, baby, I know.” He flashed you a grin, then turned back to your daughter. “I’m gonna keep both of you safe, be such a good daddy to both my pretty girls.” He pulled her that much closer to him, pressing a ginger kiss into her forehead. “You know, you really gotta open up more. I tried as hard as I could, but I don’t think I ever managed to catch her name.”

That made sense. You tended not to use it, when you could help it, when you were strong enough not to think about the man who’d given it to her – the man who’d tried to take yours, before you’d gotten away from him and and his monsters. You weren’t feeling very strong right now, though.

“Himari,” you mumbled, the sound of it alone still enough to steal the air out of your lungs, to leave the taste of blood heavy on your tongue.

“Geto Himari.”

[luvyeni]

❛NO NUT NOVEMBER❜ ( s. jake )

p. sim jaeyun x fem!reader w. 2.5k+

— 𖦹 warnings. unprotected sex, name calling, dry humping, name calling

— 𖦹 ( making jakes life a living after he challenges himself with his friends in no nut november ) !

OCTOBER 31, 2023 —  THE NIGHT BEFORE !

“What would do if you had to give up sex for a month?” Heeseung asked, “Could you do it?”  Jay scoffed at the question. “You’re asking Jake of all people.” Jake smirked shamelessly — “Me? I could definitely do it, but my girl? No she would kill me if I didn’t give her what she wants.”

And he wasn’t wrong, you and jake were known as the couple who was still in their honeymoon phase — couldn’t keep your hands off each other. “Don’t blame just yn, you both are two nymphomaniac, neither of you could do it.” Sunghoon said. “You wanna bet?”

“You guys want to make this a competition?” Heeseung said. “Who ever wins, the losers have to all pitch in and buys the winner the newest game system.” Jake eyes widened, he couldn’t past this up — but you were gonna kill him, you weren’t gonna be happy. “Fine I can’t wait to get a new game.” Heeseung said, jake scoffed. “Please you’re gonna be jerking off by 1 o’clock.” He stood up.

“Where are you going jake?” Jay said, he checked the time, 8 o’clock. “Where do you think I still have 4 hours, i’m going home to fuck my girl then beg for her not to kill me.”

“Fuck!” You screamed as jake slammed into your sopping cunt, your ankle digging into his back. “Jake i’m cumming!” You moaned, “I’m cumming!” He grunted, fucking into you, soon his warm load was spilling into your cunt. “Fuck baby you feel so good.” He sighed, slipping out of you. “Fuck baby I love your pussy so much.”

He got up to get a rag to clean you off — leaving you to ponder, this sex felt different, like it felt like the sex you’d have have when he was sorry for something. You watched him clean you up, helping you into a pair of his underwear along with his shirt. “What did you do?” Sat up.

He laid down next to you, his hand resting on your thigh. “Well you what No Nut November is right?” Of course you weren’t stupid, you just didn’t think your boyfriend was stupid enough to do something like that — but the look on his face made you think other wise.

“Jake no.” You whined, “i’m sorry baby.” He said. “Why would you even agree to do something like that?” You tried to make sense of it. “A new game system.” He said, you stared blankly at him. “I’ll go buy you the game system now, go get my computer.” You said, he laughed. “No baby, you know I can’t allow you to do that, only I spend money in this relationship.”

“It’s just a month, I swear — besides I can still make you cum in other ways.” All though you love his fingers and his plumps lips — his cock just hit different. “Whenever you need me just need to sit that pretty ass on my face and I can give you what you want.” He smirked. “Or I can use my fingers if you like.” His hands traveled up your legs.

“Let’s go again.” He said, his cock hardening all over again. “No, i’m sleepy.” He whined, knowing you were just punishing him. “Baby please, it’s still 20 minutes left.” He said, but it fell on death ears. “Go jerk off.” You heard him huff, before you heard shuffling and him getting off the bed. “Have fun.” You smirked, you were gonna make him wish he never even thought about this stupid ass challenge.

NOVEMBER — WEEK ONE !

It had been about a week since jake basically put you on a no sex band — you both had been pretty busy with your own separate lives that week, so you were too tired to even think about sex at the end of the day.

But today you both had a day off — and you were definitely feeling needy. “Hi baby.” You walked into the living-room where jake was watching tv. He smiled as you climbed into his lap, his hands resting on your lower back. “Hey princess you okay.”

You nodded, running your hands through his hair. “Just a little bored.” You said, he completely missed what you were implying. “Yeah?” He sighed as you played with his soft locks. “You want to go out and do something?” You shook your head, he closed his eyes, you smirked at how easy your boyfriend was — you don’t even know why he chose to do this.

You began to place little kisses on his jaw, down to his neck. “Baby.” He warned, his breath shaky. “Baby, let’s calm down.” But of course you didn’t listen, jake felt his cock twitching in his jeans, he couldn’t go out like this, he had something to prove, but jesus you weren’t making it easy.

“Jakey i’m just getting myself off, you said I could use you if I needed.” You smirked, grinding down on his boner. “Y-yeah baby, but -fuck- just let me eat you then.” He groaned, but you didn’t answer, too busy trying to get yourself off.

He groaned as you rocked back and forth, your moans wrapping around his brain. “Jake!” You squealed. “Jakey i’m gonna cum.” He was fighting demons right now — trying his best not to lift you up and fuck you stupid on the couch. “Fuck i’m cumming!” You yelled, legs shaking as you came.

“Baby.” He whined, his cock was hard as a fucking rock — he was scared to even think a dirty thought cause he wasn’t sure that we wasn’t going to cum untouched. “You cannot do that, i’m not gonna make it if you’re like this.” He said. You smiled, sitting up kissing his cheek. “Just cause you did this to yourself doesn’t mean I should suffer should I?” you got off the couch.

“Where are you going?” He asked, his cock still hard. “Gonna shower, i’m all sticky and sweaty.” He groaned, throwing his head back against the couch.

You were not gonna make this easy for him at all.

NOVEMBER — WEEK TWO !

“Please.” You begged, but jake wasn’t letting up. “It’s just a shower.” You pouted, he couldn’t say no to that — but he knew you weren’t gonna just shower with him in peace. “baby I know where you’re going with this.”

“Please, just a shower, I swear.” He look into your puppy like eyes, he sighed — how was he so desperately wrapped around your fingers. “Fine, just a shower.” You nodded, grabbing his hand guiding you to your shared bedroom.

You undressed yourself — jakes eyes traveled across your body, your perky boobs on display, your plump ass on display as you turned on the water. “Come on.” He waited for you to step in before he followed, standing behind you. “Jesus princess this water is hot as hell.”

You smiled, turning around facing him, reaching up wrapping your arms around his shoulders, the water running down your body, in between your boobs — you weren’t even doing anything but his cock was already hardening, twitching against your stomach. “Shit baby, I don’t think I can be in here long, your pretty body is too distracting.”

“Why wont you just quit them?” Your hand traced up and down his abs — light grazing his cock, but it was enough to have him hissing. “it’s just a stupid game system.” You said, he groaned — he knew you’d be like this, but he fell right into your trap anyway. “It’s not just the game, it’s to prove I have self control.”

“You don’t and that’s why I love you.” You kissed his chest, he sighed. “Im so horny jakey.” You whined, he closed his eyes trying to calm down. “You want me to finger you princess?” He hoped that would calm you down, but you just whined, shaking your head. “Your fingers aren’t enough anymore, I need your cock.”

You grabbed the base of his cock. “B-baby.” He stuttered. “I need you inside me.” You prayed he’d let up and fuck you — you almost had him. “Please.”

Fuck he couldn’t, he had something to prove. “Baby im sorry.” He said, you pouted. “Just a little longer I swear.” You released his cock and he let out a groan. “You’re so mean.” You pouted, he smiled. “Don’t smile at me.” You said, folding your arms.

“You almost had me baby.” He kissed your forehead. “Now im gonna get out and let you finish your shower.” He said, stepping out wrapping his towel around his waist. “What about me, im still horny.”

“you said it yourself princess, my fingers aren’t enough anymore.” He teased, leaving the bathroom. You cursed, he won this time.

But you weren’t gonna let him win that easily…

NOVEMBER — FINAL WEEK !

“Fuck.” He groaned, looking at the numerous of photos and videos you decided to grace him with — he had to stay at his dorm this week, but that didn’t stop you from torturing him via messages. His cock was desperately trying to free itself from his jeans as he looked at a video that you sent of you rutting against his pillow.

“Fuck shes trying to kill me.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “The hell is wrong with you?” Jay said. “You’ve been groaning for the past hour, someone might think we’re in here doing something.” Jake couldn’t even laugh he was that turned on.

“It’s yn, she has not been easy on me these past couple weeks.” He said, jay laughed watching his friend stress out. “Yeah, haha make fun of me, how the hell are you not going through what i’m going through?” He and jay were the last ones standing with heeseung out the second week — claiming he’d just buy the game himself, and sunghoon who found himself giving up the night of jakes birthday party, with one of your friends.

“Because i’m not a sex crazed person and I can control myself.” Jay said, jake groaned once again. “I didn’t expect her to be like this.” He said looking at the the newest photo of you, your fingers stuffed in your soaking cunt. “Are you seriously looking at nudes of your girlfriend right now while i’m talking to you?” Jay said, face full of disgust, standing up. “Jesus at least wait until I leave the room.” He said.

“i’m not giving up that easy!” He yelled, grabbing a towel, cold showers were like his best friend as of lately.

He couldn’t wait until this dumb challenge was over.

NOVEMBER 30, 2023 11:57 !

‘Fuck you, you just had to go and win.’ ‘you actually beat me, you fucking asshole.’ ‘what games do you want?’

He smiled victoriously at the text messages from his friends. He checked the time, and he was just on time — he got up, going into your shared bedroom, you were so unaware, watching the tv not paying attention to the time, like he had for the entire day.

“I won.” He said, finally gaining your attention. “Huh?” You turned to him confused. “What are you talking about?” You were laughing, but the way you had teased jake almost every day this month, you soon weren’t about to be. “I won the game, jay lasted until a few minutes ago.”

You checked the time, your heart sank — it was now midnight, December 1 — you were starting to regret doin everything you did during the month. “Jake.”

Before you could say anything else his lips were crashing into yours. He messily kissed you, trying to get his shirt over his head. Once he did that, he pulled away his lips swollen and red, both of you breathless. “I was gonna be nice princess, but you haven’t been nice to me at all this months.” He rid himself of pants, climbing on the bed. “Jake I was needy and you were ignoring me.” You pouted, trying to find a way out of it.

“Yeah, so that means act like a slut?” He slapped your thigh, pushing them open. “So desperate to get off you even humped my pillow like a bitch in heat.” You moaned out, you missed this. “Couldn’t get wait, just had to cum.” He cupped your heat. “Your pussy is soaking through your panties.”

He practically ripped your panties off. “Even through all the teasing I was gonna treat my baby like this princess she use to be, but then earlier you decided to hump my thigh like a needy whore.” He manhandled you on to your stomach, lifting your hips up, putting a pillow down for comfort. “so now i’m gonna fuck you like a needy whore.”

This is all you wanted — for the entire month this is all you wanted, was for him to fuck you stupid. “Pl-please jakey.” You moaned, he slapped your ass. “Shut the fuck up.” He pumped his cock, groaning as he pressed his tip at your entrance. “Shut up and take my fucking cock.”

He slammed into you without easing in, you let out a scream of pleasure as his cock stretched out your cunt. “Fuck your pussy is so tight.” He had to calm himself down, he was so pent up he felt like he was gonna cum if he moved. “Missed it so much.”

You wiggled your hips impatiently. “J-jake please.” You whined, he slapped your ass. “Fuck.” He pulled out, slamming back in. “So fucking impatient.” He moved his hips. “Couldn’t even wait a second.” He grunted, gripping your hips as he roughly fucked into you. “Jake.”

He let out all his pent up frustrations on your poor cunt, pushing your back down into a a deeper arch — his cock hitting a new spot, you were gripping the pillows as he plowed into you. “That’s it, take my cock slut.” He grunted.

You felt yourself about to cum, your cunt tightening around his cock. “No baby, you don’t get to cum right now, fucking hold it.” He growled, you whined. “J-jake please.” You begged, tears welding in your eyes. “I said fucking hold it slut.”

He kept going, you could no longer hold it. “Jake!” You screamed, tear streaming down your eyes. “Cum, go a ahead and cum slut.” He slapped your ass once more, you screamed cumming around his cock. “That’s it cream my cock -fuck- i’m about about to cum inside your pussy.” He grunted, thrusting a few times. “Fuck!” He came with a moan, filling your cunt up with his cum.

He gave you a few second to compose yourself, before handling you back on your back. “I’m not done baby.” He grabbed the base of his cock, positioning it at your hole that was leaking with his cum, pushing himself back into your hole. “Jake, fuck!” You screamed.

“Gonna fuck you as many times as you teased me, gonna leave your pussy sore.”

©️LUVYENI

[last-starry-sky]

let it out pt. 1 - 141xreader

(aka - the unhinged fivesome fic i've had cooking for ages and decided to finish for my stupid mental health)

[NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS - MDNI: 4.9k, alcohol/drinking mention, implied past misogyny, smoking mention, everything from here on is dub-con (this is your only warning): kissing, nipple-play, biting, dry humping, mmmf foursome (sorry, someone gets left out in this part 😔), also, possibly the worst cliffhanger i've ever left a chapter on.]

You knew you should have locked the door.

“What in the hell’s gotten into you?” Soap shouted, more drunk than loud, blowing right through the door. Didn’t even bother to knock. 

Not that it mattered. The room was still mostly empty, with only your duffel thrown in the corner to mark it as any different from the hundreds of others. If you were lucky, you would all be leaving again in a few hours, and this ugly, anonymous, concrete box of a base in the middle-of-nowhere would be nothing but a hazy memory. One in a long string of others that would soon fade back into nothing. A boring footnote at the end of a frustrating mission.

You sighed as you rolled to face him. You had been staring at the ceiling on your shitty little bed, arms crossed and still fully clothed, minus your boots. Those you’d kicked off once you’d returned to “your” room, letting them crash into the corner not caring what they took with them. You’d thrown yourself down onto the thin mattress with a huff, intent on stewing in your anger for the rest of the night. Maybe in the morning you would be able to face your “teammates” with more than a forced smile. 

Soap stood over you, hands on his hips, dark eyebrows pushing a thick crease into the center of his forehead. His cheeks were still slightly blushed from the first few rounds of celebratory, post-mission drinks with the team. The ones you had just skipped out on. 

What should have been a relaxing evening to bond with your teammates had felt like a joke. You had quietly sat at the table with the four other men, sipping your beer while they laughed and animatedly told stories. Soap had even thrown his arm around you more than once, usually at the point his story where you had tried to do something. Tried.

“Can’t leave out the part with Medic!” he had said, “She’s the only reason any ov’ us made it out in one piece!” 

You’d answered his friendliness with a terse, cold smile. It’s like he had gone on a completely different mission from you. You’d made an excuse to visit the bathroom while Price and Gaz had gone out for a smoke, making a break for your room.  

“Nothing,” you lied, jaw tight. The short nails digging into your skin as you turned away. “I’m fine. Just don’t feel like drinks tonight.”

“Ah, you’re a shit liar, Medic,” he said, a playful edge to his harsh tone, as he pointed at you. He moved to the side of your bed, his blue eyes able to keep boring down into you. 

You chose ignore him, rolling over to your back to stare at the ceiling again. Fuck him. He didn’t outrank you. He let out a frustrated huff and sat down on your bed. The frame creaked loudly as he did, rolling you suddenly against as his weight dipped the mattress. 

“Come on, Medic. Talk t’ me,” he pleaded, his voice low and soft. The crease in his forehead remained. “You’re not acting like yourself. What’s wrong?” 

“Don’t know, Soap,” you said letting out a breath as you continued staring at the water marks in the tiles above you. Anything to keep your eyes from wandering to his face. Those sad, puppy-dog eyes of his would have cracked your resolve instantly and you knew it. “Just don’t understand why I was even needed on that mission.”

His concerned face came into view as he leaned over you. 

“The fuck you mean by that?”

You sat up and backed away, averting your gaze pointedly away from him as you pulled your knees to your chest. You didn’t want the image of him hovering over you to get too comfortable in your head. Thankfully, he moved to let you sit up. You were over your little pity party anyway. You were ready to talk like an adult. 

“Don’t act stupid, Soap,” you said softly with just a little bit of petulance left in your tone. “All four of you did the same thing all mission.” 

While he continued to stare at you: open mouthed and confused, you moved, throwing your legs over the side of the bed to sit at his side. You tried to put some distance between the two of you, but you had scant room left as he was already in the middle of your tiny mattress. It forced you to press your knees and thighs to his. You could feel his warmth bleed through his jeans. How that man could run so warm was a medical mystery, one that made you shiver. 

“What?” he asked, turning to you with eyebrows raised, all the more concerned. “Wha’d we do?” 

You rolled your eyes and shot an exasperated look his way. How could he be so dense? Did he not even realize how the whole team had been treating you for the past month? 

“What did you do?” you answered him mockingly. “You spent the whole mission making me feel useless! Anytime any of you got injured you were pushing me away! Me!” you said pointing at your chest. “I’m a medic, Soap! Your medic. That’s the whole reason I’m here! I’ve been doing this job for years! I’ve been on multiple special forces teams before this. What more do I have to do to prove to you I can do my job?” 

Soap was silent, which concerned you. He stared down at his hands between his legs. You could feel he was holding something back, something he didn’t want to tell you. A tear rolled down your cheek. You had a feeling you knew what the root of the problem was.  

“Is it . . . is it because I’m a woman? Is that why?” you asked, wiping at your eyes. It was painful to even say it. You’d faced this before, you weren’t stupid. Some, no, scratch that most, teams were a boys only club, and you just had to grit your teeth through it until you were reassigned. “You know, if you want a man-”

“No!” he yelled, interrupted you, grabbing for your hand as you wiped away your tears. You snatched it out of his involuntarily. 

“Then what is it?” you snapped back, still in no mood to dick around. If you needed to talk to Price and get your bag packed tonight, then so be it. You’d rather take care of this sooner than later. 

Soap wrapped his arms around you, surprising you. He held you to his chest for a moment, running his hands down your back. You tried to push yourself away, shoving at his unyielding stomach and squeaking out his name against his chest, all to no avail. He was just too strong. 

“Calm down, hen. Calm down. Don’t fight me,” he said softly in your ear. “Give me a chance to speak m’ piece, hear?” 

You complied with a groan, ceasing your struggle. This wasn’t professional, obviously, but you couldn’t find a reason to fight it anymore. You let him hold you for a moment, the constant thrum of his heart pounding in your ear. He was so warm too. You wished you could give in, just melt into the surrounding heat of his arms and chest. You knew it was just because you were stressed and hadn’t been touched in, fuck, it had to be months now, but still. 

“You’re right. Sorry. Sorry we treated you like that,” he confessed. 

His hands slid over your shoulders, releasing you from most of his steely grip. You didn’t try to wrench away this time, but you did rest your hands on his chest. The feel of his pectoral muscles, even though they were softened by the cotton of his shirt, made you tremble. This was terribly dangerous territory to be treading in. 

“Didn’t mean to. Honest. We’re all just . . .” he trailed off, letting his head cock to the side as he flexed his hands on your upper arms.

You pulled away, just enough to look up at his face. You didn’t want him to hide, not now. You were teammates after-all. You actually wanted to stay teammates for once, not get bounced from team to team, from one group of assholes to another every six months. The wear of never being able to put down roots, let alone connect to the humans you were keeping alive was starting to fray your psyche. Some days you felt like little more than a sentient med-bag. 

With the 141 though, it felt different. You didn’t want to lose that. You’ve been together through the standard life-and-death situations and made it out alive. You’d slept side by side in the gravel, shared cold MRE’s in the dark, even tended to each other’s wounds when they’d let you. There was no need for him to hide the truth from you. Besides, you’d been weak for Soap from the moment you met but managed to keep it professional, barely. You’re pretty sure the cocky bastard knows it too. As much as you wanted him, you valued your job and position over any selfish need for sexual fulfillment. 

“We’re scared shitless ‘a losing you,” he continued with a pained sigh, leaning in to press his lips to your eyebrow, strong, calloused hand gripping your bicep. 

Oh. His words made your brain flat-line. Well, you thought. This was . . . new? A team that actually cared about you?

His hand cupped your jaw; warm, rough fingers smoothing over your cheek and neck. You closed your eyes and bit your lip, partly from pleasure, partly to suppress any embarrassing noises. There was no way was this happening. 

“We all are,” he continued, warm breath fanning across your face. “Know you can handle yourself. It’s just . . . anytime it gets hot and we start getting hit, something in me . . . all of us . . . just wants to protect you.”

You smiled, lip falling out of the grip of your teeth. No one had ever said something so caring to you before, least of all a fellow soldier. 

“That’s a dumb fucking reason, Soap,” you said weakly back to him. 

You thumped a fist on his chest once, trying to cover your wavering voice and vulnerability with sarcasm. You wished he would take the bait like others had in the past, but he didn’t. He sat there in silence, still holding your face, waiting for you. You sighed as he pressed his hand to the small of your back. 

“Do you know how stressed out you guys made me?” you finally let out. Tears piqued in the corner of your eyes again, hazing your vision. “Like everyday? Your lives are in my hands and you wouldn’t-”

“I know,” he interrupted you with a groan, hand moving up your back to stroke at your neck. You sighed, leaning into his hand as he massaged you. “‘s not right. I’ll talk to the guys later about it, if you want. Doan think we don’t want you, because we do. Honest.” 

He looked down at you with those blue eyes, practically glowing with emotion, and . . . how can you refute him when you can read him so plainly? His eyes spoke sadness through that stare in a way that words failed. There was also something darker there: a drunken, feral hunger that’s blowing his pupils wide as he cradled your head. It’s eating those precious blue irises until there’s nothing left but a dark pit of lust. Your hand clutched tighter on his shirt, pulling the collar enough to reveal his collarbone. It’s a pit you’re both precipitously close to falling over.  

“I would . . . appreciate that,” you sighed as his thumb stroked over your cheek. 

You tried to keep your eyes on the scar on his chin, but it only drew you to his lips and that delicious dark stubble. He had been back on base for less than a day, but he still hadn’t shaved post-mission. You wondered if he had taken your half-joking comment about how men are more attractive with facial hair to heart. You broke your eyes away, not wanting to countenance that line of thought. At least not while he was still tenderly cradling your face. 

“Would rather be there to say it myself, though” you continued airily. 

Soap drew his fingers out over your face, his thumb grazing over your bottom lip. You let your eyes fall shut again despite yourself. You felt his hoppy breath waft over your face as he tightened his grip on the back of your neck. 

“Get it all out . . . in front of everyone,” you said, finishing your thought with a struggle.

“Yeah,” he said, his nose nudging yours. “Let it out.”

Before you can stop him - fuck, like you wanted to stop him now - he pulled you into his lap, slotting his mouth over yours for a kiss. There’s no warning. No gentleness or confessions. Shit like that fell fast to the wayside in the military. It had made you sad at first, the loss of intimacy inherent in building a romantic relationship, but fuck it. You need this. You give into his lead completely: the desperate way he forced himself into your mouth, all passion, teeth and tongue. You balled both your hands in his shirt and hold on for dear life.

He hummed, pleased with himself, as he broke away to kiss down your neck. You’re no better though. You’re moaning right along with him, telegraphing loud and clear how well he’s breaking you down, how much you want him. He doesn’t waste time as he sucks hickies onto your throat, rucking up your shirt to paw at your bra at the same time. Alone time is another one of those luxuries the military makes you ration: never knowing when someone will burst in the door to call you away. He’s obviously hungry to get your tits out and he’s not letting a second go to waste. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” a gruff voice said flatly behind you. 

Both you and Soap looked up in shock at the large, masked, black-clad figure filling your doorway. You didn’t even hear the door open. Wait, fuck, had Soap left it open this whole time? You tried to wriggle away, pushing at Soap’s shoulder, not wanting your Lieutenant of all people to see you like this: shirt half off, face flushed with fresh, wet bites coloring your neck. Soap held on to you though, his full strength holding you to his body as you tried to kick away. He simply tucked back into your neck, continuing to blindly unclasp your bra. 

“Medic’s stressed, LT. Wanna help?” Soap mumbled playfully, giving up on getting under your bra, switching instead to pulling your shirt up off your chest. 

Soap is putting you on display for your superior officer: a present with the wrapping peeled off the corner, just waiting to be torn in to, tempting the other man to join. Your eyes are wide, pleading silently with Ghost to take even the smallest amount of mercy on you. Your brain is racing to concoct some plausible story to get both you and Soap out of this mess with your jobs and it’s not looking good. 

Ghost continued to lean against the wall, arms crossed across that broad chest, masked face passively observing you and Soap without a hint of emotion. Soap managed to peel your shirt off of your chest, forcing your arms off of him for a moment to push it up. It’s Ghost, however, that grabs it from behind, guiding it up off your arms, tossing it behind him. It sends a shiver up your spine how silent he is. You didn’t hear him approach, but you can feel energy radiating off him as he stands behind you. 

Soap does away with your bra with those practiced, nimble hands of his once it’s exposed. Once you’re fully bare, he’s pushing you off his lap to kneel on the floor in front of you. You stare down at him as he kisses his way across your chest, his hands stroking up and down your ribs while pressing your breasts together at their peak, mostly so that you aren't forced to face Ghost in this state. A gasp catches in your throat as Soap finds his prize. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and you can’t help but screw your eyes shut and let out a high-pitched whine. You’re silently glad it wasn’t his name. 

You feel Ghost’s gloved hand scrape along the back of your neck: thumb on your spine, long fingers curled around your artery. Your skin prickles underneath it.

“Gotta plan, Johnny?” Ghost asks him, deep voice rumbling gravel-rough as he tests his fingers against your skin and you whimper. You know he’s strong. Know he can snap necks with those hands. You’ve seen it. Fuck if it isn’t making your pussy clench at how gentle he is, how rough he could be. 

“Fuck, LT. Stayin’ right here,” He says breathlessly, breaking away only long enough to answer your superior. 

Soap cups a breast in each hand, gently squeezing as he moves to lay an open mouthed kiss on your sternum. He tweaks your wet nipple with a moan, absorbed already in his own pleasure. Soap always was too loud. Too vocal. 

“Ain’t she fuckin’ beautiful, Ghost? Doan be shy. Join in.”

Ghost’s fingers flex on the back of your neck again, breaking your stare away from Soap as he works kisses over to your other breast. You weakly wrap your arms around Soap’s shoulders, finding comfort in holding him, something solid in this tumult you’ve been thrown into. He’s at least obvious with what he wants. Ghost is a variable, an unknown. You still aren’t sure what he’s going to do even as he closes his fingers deliciously around your throat; weak moans falling from your mouth. 

He could easily turn on his heel and have the both of you court marshaled by morning. You know it. You know he could read the fear in your eyes when you first saw him. He’s seen it before. It’s life and death. The fear of whatever decision he makes, it may change both Soap and your lives forever. His eyes are as dark and unreadable as Soap’s are bright and expressive. The flex of his gloved fingers on your neck and the subtle shift of his hips in his tac-pants makes you bite your lip. A swipe of his thumb over your lip, pulling it out from your teeth, tells you his decision without a word. 

That’s when Soap finally locked his lips around your other nipple. He sucked hard, teeth scraping over the sensitive bud. Ghost’s hands kept your head locked, eyes boring down into you, standing over you, keeping you beneath him, powerless. You closed your eyes, locked your fingers into Soap’s mohawk and moaned, throwing your head back as you let it out. 

Ghost let go of your head suddenly. He walked in awkwardly large steps around Soap as he rounded your bed. 

“Keep that mouth quiet then,” he said, an order to himself. “Can’t have the whole base showin’ up.”

You felt the mattress sink behind you a moment later, followed by Ghost snaking his arms around you. One hand on your stomach, one on your jaw, locking you in place. You shuddered, leaning into the cold, rough texture of the gloves on his hands. You could feel the buttons on his shirt as his chest pushed flush to your back. 

Fuck, he’s so big. So strong, you thought. Not that you had much time for that. The hand on your stomach left to pull up the bottom of his mask before quickly falling back in place, his other hand tilting your head back to slot his mouth over yours.

It sent your mind into another galaxy. This shouldn’t be happening, your closest teammates: Soap and Ghost, both pawing over your body, touching, kissing, pleasing you. You were all beyond unprofessional at this point. Never mind how much you’ve been fantasizing about this, about all of them. 

It had been a tortuous downward spiral ever since you swore you would be right behind them, ready at a moment's notice to put them back together, to put your own body on the line to save them. That was your promise, your personal mission: to get them home alive. You wondered if that was what triggered this protective attitude of theirs. Not that the in’s and out’s of how you all ended up like this really mattered. The reality of the situation was: If Price ever found out you were all dead.

Soap’s hands brace on both of your thighs as he begins to kiss down your torso, a new goal in mind. 

Ghost, your god damn lieutenant, of all people, always so cold and calculating. You felt he should have been the last person listening to Soap’s crazy ideas to crawl into your bed. He shouldn’t be holding you like a china doll, petting your face as he peppers gentle, unsure, little kisses over your lips. You shouldn’t be demurely shying away from the skin he’s revealing to you, but here you are. You lay your hand over his on your hip and he breaths a silent groan across your mouth. He just stays like that for a moment, holding and listening to you as Soap lays messy kisses south of your navel, tickling you with his head and facial hair. 

“Ghost,” you moan, gripping his gloved hand, hoping it goads him into what you want: kissing you deeper, as Soap pops open the fly of your pants.

It does. He obliges immediately, pushing himself into your mouth, swirling your tongue with his. Your cry covers his whine. It all feels too good, too much. The rain breaking loose over the parched desert soil. It didn’t matter anymore, the consequences. You just wanted this. You were ready to take as much as they could give until the flood swept you away. 

“Woah,” a familiar voice called from the door. 

Fuck. You know that voice. Gaz. 

Ghost’s hand on your jaw kept you from breaking away. He wasn’t done with you yet. You feel Soap turn away from working your pants off. The door creaks partially shut behind Gaz as he enters, sticky bottoms of his boots squeaking against the clean floor. 

“Came to check on Medic,” he continued, far too cool and collected. “See if she’s okay. Didn’t, ah. Didn’t expect this.” 

He isn’t backpedaling out of your room. He isn’t apologizing or telling the other men to break it up. Fuck, he’s walking farther in.

“Coam on in mate,” Soap said to Gaz cheerily, his accent slurring thick. “Workin’ on cheerin’ her up right now. Room ‘nough for all of us,”

Soap looked up at you, shit eating grin plastered across his face, as Ghost finally broke your kiss. He pulled down your zipper: hands slowly pushing away the fabric at your waist, peeling your fly open to reveal your underwear. 

You heard Gaz whistle as he walked up to the bed, just the same as Ghost had. Gaz hummed as he approached the three of you, stopping to observe like you were a blushing nude in a piece of art and not a human being. If Soap had been emotional in his approach, and Ghost had been careful, Gaz was hungry. He wasn’t interested in wasting time asking questions. He was here, this was happening, and that was all that mattered. 

“Where you want me?” he asked, eye flicking between Ghost and Soap. 

“Stayin’ right here, sergeant,” Ghost said against your lips, absently commanding the man. It should have concerned you how easily they talked about you like you weren’t even there.

“Can’t even steal a peck?” he said cheekily, leaning down so that the brim of his blue hat tickled your temple. 

“One,” Ghost said, releasing you with a growl.

Gaz’s hand gently turned your head toward him. You breathed a sigh as he leaned in to press your sensitive, kiss-bruised lips to his. He moved slowly and sweetly, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth to test it, but never breaking away. Each of them kissed so differently and it drove you mad thinking that all of this had been right here just waiting for you. 

Ghost wasn’t one to wait for his turn. Your lips were his. He’d claimed them already, and Gaz, as much as he liked the man, was testing his limits. He pressed his face into the crane of your neck, mask jutting into your jaw awkwardly, sinking his teeth in to what skin he could reach. The first bite shocked you enough to make you pull away from Gaz with a gasp, leaving Gaz grinning at the man behind you. 

“Nice play,” he said nicely, smiling with his teeth barred. 

He knew it was better to play fair in a situation like this and let his superiors take the lead. They were his brothers, not his enemies, after all. Besides, you had so much more to offer him. Like those beautiful tits, nipples still shiny with Soap’s spit, just begging for attention. He took off his hat, tossing it around the metal post of your headboard, and set to work.

“Cheap though,” Soap mumbled against the skin of your hip. 

Ghost grunted in response, continuing his line of bites down your neck as you whined in his grasp. 

Gaz didn’t respond, or even seem to mind. He’s humming around your nipple, flicking his tongue across the very tip. A trail of sparks shoot up your spine. His fingers gently petted across your breast, squeezing with just a bit of pressure as he reached your nipple. 

You gritted your teeth together, suppressing a moan. With all three of them working together, it was just too much. If you didn’t stop yourself now, there was no telling what wanton, stupid things you would say.   

“Harder, Gaz,” Ghost commanded. His voice rough, breath hot and ragged down your neck. 

Gaz obeyed, teeth testing the nipple in his mouth, pinching the one in his hand. You bowed back as much as you could in Ghost’s grip, a whiny moan ripping from your throat. 

“Beautiful,” Soap whispered, nuzzling at your pussy through your pants. He cleared his throat. “LT. Need yer help ‘ere,” 

You feel Ghost lean over your shoulder, looking past your exposed body down to Soap between your trembling legs. Soap’s bright eyes avoid your pleasure-drunk gaze, focusing entirely on the massive man behind you. He cracks a wide smile as their eyes lock. 

“What y’ need, Johnny?” Ghost asked, his gloved hands gripping into the flesh of your torso. 

Soap dug his fingers into your cargo pants, his smile on the edge of manic. 

“Lift ‘er up. Get these off,” he answered, throat bobbing as he spoke with denial, anticipation, lust. 

“On three,” Ghost responded, wrapping both his strong arms around your chest, locking you into place. 

Gaz had only a moment to pull off you before the count began. When Ghost reached “one”, he lifted you off the bed easily, allowing Soap enough room to pull your pants down to your knees. 

Ghost set you down, this time onto his lap. You blushed and he groaned, realizing he was now holding you down with both hands against his brutally hard cock. 

Soap was already stripping your pants off fully, throwing them with a flutter behind his back. His eyes were blown wide, blue irises fully consumed by his pupils. His chest heaved, struggling to catch his breath, as he held your legs wide enough to push his way into the drenched gusset of your panties. 

“Fuck,” he said, running his thumb up the slick-soaked fabric. 

You turned your head out of the crook of Ghost’s shoulder, struggling in vain to catch your breath. Gaz was right there, unfortunately. He caught your lips again, pushing his tongue into your mouth to quiet your pitiful mewling as Ghost rolled his cock into the plush of your ass. Gaz’s  hands cupped your breasts again, grazing alternately at your nipples just enough to send that delicious tickle down your spine. 

Soap huffed a hot breath against your clothed cunt, making you shudder against the hands containing you. 

“Ca’ wait t’ taste that pussy,” Soap moaned, his nose grazing your clit through your panties as he pushed his face fully against your leaking core. 

Ghost groaned at Soap’s words, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You cried into Gaz’s mouth, making him break away. Ghost pulled away as well and looked over at Gaz. 

“Gaz,” Ghost asked, suddenly devoid of  emotion. 

“Hmm?” Gaz answered, looking away from you as he pet at your face, wiping away your tears. 

“When you left, where was Price?”

Gaz thought for a moment, pausing to look down at you with eyebrows knit together. 

“Cap? Not sure. After I left to find-”

“You just left him?” Ghost interrupted him tersely, leaning over into Gaz’s face, jostling you around like a doll. Soap grumbled as your pussy was wrenched away from him. Ghost wrapped a hand in Gaz’s collar to pull him close. 

“Yeah?” Gaz answered, nerves trembling his voice. “Why-”

“Because he knew I’d follow you here. Just like the rest of you did,” your Captain’s dull, almost disappointed voice answered from the dark just outside your door. 

A spike of fear shot down your spine. Oh, you were all so screwed. 

a/n: yes, part three of Girl's Night Out is still coming! consider this an extra anniversary treat dedicated to everyone who sent kind messages while I clawed my way out of this bout of depression. (✿◠‿◠) ❤️ part two to this thing . . . idk when y'all want it??

[pellucid-constellations]

Faking It

Pairing: College Athlete!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes was in love with his girl—disgustingly, annoyingly so. Enough to start fights on the ice just to make sure he saw her after a game.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: This is FLUFF!! With HOCKEY MAN

a/n:​​​ This was originally something completely different but then I hated it so now it's all fluff and now I do not hate it. Pleaseeeee let me know what you think and if you enjoy it!! I love you thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️

Masterlist

~~

“Jesus Christ, Buck. Again?” 

Bucky grinned, split lip tightening uncomfortably. When he turned to his captain, he had the gall to act oblivious. “What do you mean, captain?” 

Steve gave him a disapproving look. “Give it up, pal. There was no need to pick a fight with that guy and you know it.” 

“He was talking shit about the team!” 

“They’ll always be a player talking shit about the team.” 

“Then why’re you breathing down my neck right now, huh? We won. Be happy, Cap,” Bucky encouraged, slinging an arm over his shoulder. Steve raised a brow back at him but was clearly fighting back a smirk. Bucky could tell by the way his eyes lifted, contrasting his deep—albeit fake—frown. 

In truth, Bucky had been looking for a fight. He’d been looking for a plethora of fights since the start of the season, and was usually quite successful with his venture. It had garnered him quite the reputation, but where the crowd saw it as a short-fuse on a large man, Steve saw it for what it really was. 

An opportunity to see you. 

And while Steve could appreciate the dedication, it made one of his best players ride out unnecessary time in the penalty box. 

“I am happy. Just not with you,” Steve clarified, knocking Bucky’s arm away. 

Bucky let out a sound close to a scoff. “Even with my extra time in the sin bin I still helped carry. It’s just part of the game, Steve. Gotta protect the team’s pride.” 

“Yeah,” Steve drawled sarcastically, stopping in front of the locker room doors. “I’m sure that was your reasoning. What was it last game? Someone said something about your ma?” 

“Hey, he did.” 

“They always do.”

Heavy footsteps created a commotion in the hall, the rest of the team finally catching up with the pair. They funneled their way into the room for showers and a fresh change of clothes, and Steve stood with his crossed arms leaning against the wall, somehow still directing an admonishing look towards Bucky amidst the crowd. Bucky did his best to look baffled by the unspoken accusation, but then Sam Wilson passed by and Bucky’s ploy was disintegrated. 

“Hey man,” Sam greeted, slapping a friendly hand against Bucky’s arm as he passed. “You let someone beat the shit out of you again so you could go see your girl?” 

Bucky’s scoff returned, but this time Steve was having none of it. He kicked off of the wall and went to follow the rest of the team into the locker room. Bucky watched with a grimace, not only caught, but put on display.

“You know,” Steve called over his shoulder, not expecting Bucky to follow. “You’re dating the girl now. You don’t gotta keep up with this whole schtick.” 

“I don’t have a schtick,” he called back. At the responding laugh from Steve, Bucky yelled, “I don’t!” but no one was listening to him. Or believing him. 

But fine. If his schtick involved you, in any capacity, Bucky would admit to having one. 

Some of what Steve said was right. Bucky was dating you now. You were his girl and that would imply total access to you all the time, whenever he wanted. He didn’t need to pick fights or feign injuries anymore (the latter never really worked anyways), because he had a key to your apartment. And you were in his bed more weekends than not. 

But, damn, were you busy right now. 

Bucky had never really considered how much schooling went into becoming a physical therapist until he met you. You were typically swamped with papers and tests and requests from Dr. Cho, but this past month had been exponentially worse thanks to finals. He had seen you about once a week if he was lucky, and that was a generous estimation. Add your crazy schedule to the alarming amount of away games he had over the past few weeks and he was champing at the bit to see you. 

Bucky just prayed it was you in the training room today and not Dr. Cho. His odds were pretty favorable considering the team’s main trainer didn’t usually stick around after games if there were no major injuries, but there was always the off chance she let her interns go home early. But, knowing you, you would be in that room until the rink lights went off. 

God, he loved you. Every overworked, high-strung bit of you. 

He even loved the scolding look you shot him as he pushed open the training room doors, his bruises and cuts on full display. You dropped the pen you were tapping against an overflowing notebook and rocketed out of your rolling stool, and Bucky adored the way you stomped over to him, biting the inside of your cheek to stop the curse you clearly wanted to let free. 

“Hey, baby,” Bucky smiled, this time ignoring the sting in his lip. “Funny seeing you here.” 

You huffed, bringing careful fingers up to his chin. “Not very funny,” you mumbled. “Not when you look like someone hit you with their car.” 

Bucky let you fuss for a moment, following your touch as you turned his head back and forth and examined his split knuckles. This was your job, so obviously he let you do it, but he enjoyed watching you. So he didn’t stop you from lifting his jersey up to inspect his middle, because how else would he catch the cute way you scrunch your nose up in concentration? If he pulled his hands away when you started testing the range of motion in his wrists, when else would he be able to track your lips as you softly counted and mouthed gentle confirmations? 

Never. Because you were so damn busy. 

“Missed you,” Bucky said after sneaking a kiss on your forehead while you were prodding at the bruise on his collarbone. “I’ve been missing you a lot.” 

You let a small smile interrupt the disgruntlement on your face. Bucky grinned at the change, pressing another kiss to your hair while he still could. 

“Did you miss me enough to send a right hook into that guy’s jaw?” 

“Yes.” 

Your smile was gone again. Now you looked aghast. “Bucky.” 

“What?” he exclaimed, sliding his torn hands from your healing ones to wrap you in his embrace. “You want me to lie instead? Okay, fine. No, sweetheart, I didn’t start a fight just to have an excuse to see you. That guy got all these punches in on me because I’m out of practice, is all. I don’t think about you every waking second of my life, and while we’re at it, no I did not use your shampoo this morning because I miss how—”

“Okay, okay,” you laughed, resting your forehead on the divot in his chest. “I get it. Thanks for being truthful.” 

Bucky relished in the feel of you. He had been slightly worried that his state would cause you to be more upset than anything. If you weren’t so tired right now, there was a high chance you’d be yelling at him because of his recklessness instead of resting against his chest. So Bucky jumped at the opportunity, trailing one of his hands up to cup the back of your head. He craned his neck down, burying his face into the juncture of your neck. 

He hadn’t been lying about the shampoo. 

“I miss you too. Even if you act like an idiot sometimes,” you mumbled against his jersey. 

Something in Bucky felt lighter, warm. “Acting like an idiot’s the only way I get to see my girl.” 

You hummed. “Sorry ‘m so busy.” 

You had to be exhausted. Not even a single reprimand had tumbled from your mouth. Bucky had expected at least three. 

“When’s the last time you slept, baby?” Bucky kept his voice low, his thumb making unconscious circles against your hair. 

“I don’t know. In the night.” 

“Okay, thanks smart ass.” Bucky jostled you a bit until your eyes met his. “I meant when did you last take a break? Get a good night’s sleep?” 

You sighed, gaze trailing over his face. “Let me fix you up. Then we can play twenty questions.” 

“Baby—”

“No, Buck, this is the training room, if you haven’t noticed,” you quipped, stepping back and rifling through a few drawers. “Take a seat and I’ll fix you. That’s my job.” 

“Well, what about my job?” he grumbled back. 

“You have failed at your job. Your job is hockey and you instead played human punching bag.” 

“Not that job. My other job. The one where I take care of you.” 

You spun on your heel, a basket of supplies resting on your hip. The sweater that engulfed your frame had the university’s logo stamped across the front, but instead of jeans or slacks—the usual uniform for PT interns—you wore leggings. Your hair was pulled back in the most endearing, pretty mess, and Bucky’s chest hurt as he looked at you. 

“My tired girl,” he hummed, bringing his hand up to your cheek as you pushed him down on the exam chair. He sat if only to appease you, his feet still flat on the floor even with the tall seat.

“I’m only a little tired,” you weakly fought. Bucky chuckled in response, sanitary paper crinkling beneath him. “Now let me clean you up.” 

You snapped gloves onto your hands and Bucky fought back a petulant whine. If he had been any other member of the team, those gloves would have been on the second they walked in the door. He should be grateful, then, that you only put them on when it was time to tend to his wounds, but he wasn’t. He missed you too much to feel latex instead of your skin. 

Bucky’s lip stung as you cleaned it, but he hardly flinched. If he moved, he would miss the pretty way you bit into your lip as you stared at him. 

“Remember when I’d be in here all the time?” he asked when you turned back down to grab antibiotic cream. 

You let out a tired laugh. “How could I forget? You picked a fight every game. If that didn't work you’d come stumbling in here complaining about a torn ACL or whatever. Big liar.” 

“I wouldn’t call it lying.” 

The smile you gave him was replicated on his own face. 

“You were literally lying.” You dabbed the cream on his lip, and then moved to the cut on his cheek. “You would come limping in here and then I’d see you an hour later running out to the parking lot.” 

“You wouldn’t look at me if I wasn’t injured.” 

“It was my job, Bucky!” you laughed, eyes giving away your amusement. “I wasn’t supposed to be fraternizing with the players. I’m pretty sure Cho only lets us be together because you wouldn’t leave her alone otherwise.” 

Bucky moved his hands from his thighs to your waist, tugging you closer as you worked. “Hey, sometimes drastic measures are needed.” 

“You called her multiple times a day… bought her an edible arrangement. Wait, didn’t you offer to drive her kids to school a few times?” 

“It worked, didn’t it,” he posed, nudging his nose against your cheek. You giggled, lightly slapping his arm to get away. 

“The edible arrangement was a good touch,” you relented. 

Bucky released you as you wiggled from his grip, flitting around the training room to put supplies back. He spotted your backpack in the corner of the room, unzipped with the water bottle tipping out. When you sat down at the computer to document his care, which he found a bit ridiculous (you only put a bandaid on his face), Bucky walked over and gathered your things. He did so slowly so you wouldn’t notice; you probably had plans to stay at the rink for another few hours, and that was not okay with him. 

With a final zip and your water bottle now standing upright, Bucky meandered over to your seated position. He hooked his chin over your shoulder as you worked, leaning over and tapping your phone screen for the time. His heart twisted warmly in his chest when he saw a picture of himself smiling under the 8:00 pm displayed on the homescreen. 

After all the pining and work it took to get you, Bucky often felt this wasn’t real. 

God, he loved you. 

“I know what you’re trying to do,” you whispered, clicking away at the computer. “I still have some charting to do. Peter hit his head yesterday and I have to do the follow up work.” 

Still in his uniform, Bucky wrapped you up from behind. Now you would both need a shower and he could get you to leave. He kissed the back of your head, and then your temple, and then your cheek as he craned his neck to watch you work. You smelled like fresh laundry and books and the subtle hint of your perfume.

“Parker’s fine. He was up and playing today. Let’s go home, baby,” Bucky murmured, most of his words spoken against your skin. 

“I know he’s okay. But head injuries are a completely different protocol and I have to—” 

“I miss you,” he reiterated. “And you’re working too hard. All the lights are off in the rink ‘cept for this one. Come back to my place. Let me take care of you.” 

“Why don’t you shower and change first? I’ll leave with you once you finish.” 

Bucky spun your stool around suddenly, one hand on your waist, the other reaching back to steady himself on the desk now at your back. “Oh no, don’t try to pull that on me. I get back in here, you’re gonna tell me you started something new you can only finish on the PT computer and you can’t leave for another hour. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

You let out a quick sigh, caught. “Well, what about—” 

“Nope,” Bucky interrupted. He used his far hand to shut the facility computer and then guided you up. “You’re coming home with me. You’re gonna sit in the car while I drive you to my apartment and then we’re gonna take a shower together and I’m gonna make you feel so good you don’t even remember what a concussion is.” 

“Bucky,” you chastised, hiding your face in his shoulder. 

His laugh shook your head. “Still so damn shy.” He reached down to grab your bag, slinging it over his shoulder and placing a hand on the back of your neck, meeting your averted gaze. “Just me in here, baby.” 

“I know. But you don’t have to be so vulgar.” 

“Vulgar? Sweetheart, if you want vulgar I’ll tell you exactly what I’m gonna do to you the second we—” 

You slapped your hand over his mouth, careful for the delicate skin there. Still, Bucky was sure you could feel his smile against your skin, and he fought back an even bigger one when he saw the embarrassed twist of your brow. 

Slowly, he pried your wrist down, kissing the palm of your hand on the way. “Sorry,” he whispered, not sorry in the slightest.

You pursed your lips, flustered. “You’re such an antagonizer.”

Bucky could do this every day and never grow tired of it. It had been months now and he found himself only wanting you more. 

“Can’t help it. I love you.”

Your faux annoyance morphed into a bashful smile, the kind Bucky remembered from his time faking injuries. It was reminiscent of when you were trying not to laugh at his jokes, or smile at his flirting, or give him any reaction he was looking for. 

But he always got what he wanted in the end. 

And, more than anything, he wanted you. 

“That one do the trick?” Bucky asked. “Am I finally getting my girl to come home with me?” 

When you looked up at him with raised brows and a smile twisted up at the corners, he knew you’d given up. Perfect timing, too, because—in all honesty—Bucky had been punched in the side during his on-ice tussle, and his ribs were starting to hurt. You were going to be pissed when you saw the bruise form tomorrow morning, but you would be pissed in his bed, so it was worth it to Bucky.

“I have to get a little bit of homework done when we get there,” you reasoned, pointing an accusing finger at your boyfriend. 

He threw his hands up in surrender, dropping one down over your shoulders as you both walked out. “Okay, okay. Homework at my place, I got it.” 

“That comes first, Bucky. Before anything else. Shower, then homework, and then… other things.” 

“I know what first means, baby.” 

“Good.” 

But Bucky had other plans, and they did not involve homework. He was pretty sure you were ahead, anyways. Like, weeks ahead, actually. 

“You eat dinner yet?” he asked, fishing his keys from his pocket. 

You looked up at him, incredulous. “What did I just say?” 

“What?” he defended, tugging you closer as the wind in the parking lot whipped at your clothes. “I can’t make sure my girl’s had dinner? What am I allowed to do?”

You only scoffed, tucking yourself further into his side. “Keep me warm.” 

“Always, baby.” 

[deactivated072320241242]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐬𝐡𝐡... 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing . Natasha Romanoff x virgin! fem! reader

summary . when she decides to make the move and discovers you had never experienced anything like that ever before, she plans the perfect way to put your fears away and get to see that side of yours for the first time.

warnings . smut! i am not responsible for your content consumption! — implied sexual abuse (from Dreykov), virginity loss, foreplay, nipple play, strap on usage, fingering, multiple orgasms, lots of praises, Natasha's incredibly hot russian.

notes . english is not my first language (🇧🇷) so i apologize for any spelling errors. feedback is highly appreciated! <3

divider credits: @anitalenia

you had been waiting for Nat to come home from the avengers compound all day. she had told you Tony was making some updates on FRIDAY and needed the team's opinion on everything, so she stayed there a little longer than the usual.

you had to admit — it was never the same without her in the house. wearing her clothes didn't help as much as you thought, neither did Liho meowing all day as if telling you she missed her.

so your eyes perked up to the door as you heard the doorknob turning, eyes sparkling at the sight of Natasha. she was smiling.

most of the times she came back from the compound she had bruises and cuts from missions, and looked down and tired. so knowing she had fun with her team made your day a hundred times better. even if it was already midnight.

"hey, kitten," she chuckles and crouches down to pick the cat up as she runs to her, immediately nuzzling against her and meowing. "i missed you too,"

"i missed you too." you say quietly, Natasha's eyes immediately following the voice. she drops her bag on the floor and runs towards you, sitting on the edge of the couch where you laid.

"hi, dorogaya!" she places her hand on your cheek and pecks your lips, coaxing a little sigh out of you. her mouth then travels to your forehead to plant a kiss there. "i'm sorry for making you wait. but it was so fun. all i could think about was coming home and telling you!"

you giggle, seeing her so enthusiastic. you shift to make room for her on the couch and she adjusts herself so you're leaning on her chest now — Liho laying comfortably on both of you. "okay. tell me!"

"so," she begins, taking a deep breath as she became selfconscious about how happy she was. "Ant Man was there, and he was struggling with his pym-particle blasters and he became very very tiny. more than he should. and then, when Tony opened FRIDAY's device, he decided to tease all of us and entered there, tickling the artificial intelligence! she pretended to laugh, and Tony couldn't understand why everything he was trying to do wasn't working."

her laugh was so sweet, so genuine, that a sense of calm washed over you, everything was okay now, you were both okay. and knowing Natasha, having her happy was the best gift you could ever have. your arms wrapped around her neck, and you kisses the tip of her nose. "i'm glad you had a great day with them,"

Natasha's lips parted as she felt the kiss, her gaze locking with yours. she realized she had finally gotten rid of that feeling that something bad could happen anytime. she wasn't alert 24/7 anymore. now, she was home. with you. "i did.. and i have you now."

she carefully picks the sleeping cat and place her on the little bed next to the couch, then returns her attention to you. her hands travel down to your waist, fingertips sliding under the thin shirt you wore. you gulp, fingers tangling in her red locks and pulling her closer.

"i have you, now." you repeat quietly, before crashing your lips on hers.

the russian immediately melts against you, a faint groan echoing from the back of her throat, the vibrations going straight to your core. she carefully lifts you up and pulls you onto her thigh, allowing your weight to rest on her. you usually didn't have make out sessions, since she was with the others most of the time, doing missions. but you wouldn't let that opportunity slide.

the tip of your tongue darts out and licks her bottom lip, a silent plea for something more. she was surprised. she didn't usually see you making the moves. her lips part fully, welcoming your tongue in her mouth, as she returns the action. her tongue mingles with yours, slowly, wanting to make the moment last, but it wasn't enough.

her hand slid up your back, pulling your chest flush against her own. you whimper as the kiss deepens, body shifting and molding perfectly with her. this was getting further than you thought it would.

Natasha broke the kiss with a small gasp, shifting your positions and carefully laying you down on the couch. her body hovered yours, and her lips trailed kisses down your face, your neck. your eyes widened — in surprise, but also in panic.

"Nat," you breathlessly whisper, weakly grabbing her shoulders to hold onto her. her lips didn't stop, only seeming to be hungrier and hungrier for you. "wait,"

"no, krasivaya, (beautiful,)" she mumbles against your skin, pulling your body even closer to her. she didn't want to stop. "just let me, please,"

you take a deep shaky breath to try and calm yourself down. you knew Natasha, and that she'd never hurt you, so this helped. you carefully took her face in your hands, and pulled her head which was tucked on your neck back. she took a great look into your eyes, and frowned. "what's up, baby?"

"nothing, it's just.." you sigh. her eyes narrow for a brief second, then, a small chuckle comes out of her mouth. damn it, she saw the soft pink creeping up your cheeks.

"are you shy?" she inquires, raising her eyebrow. you got relieved as she suddenly got off you and sat on the couch properly, pulling you onto her lap again and wrapping her arms around your waist.

"it's not that." you shake your head and look down, begining to pick on your nails.

it wasn't shyness. you just had a feeling that would lead towards sex. and not that you weren't ready, you just never had it before — other than pleasuring yourself — and Natasha didn't know that fact, until now.

"oh..." she suddenly realizes what's going on. instead of getting angry, a smile tugs on the corner of her lips again. she looks at your face for some good seconds, before wrapping her arms completely around your frame and pulling you to her chest.

that reminded her of all the times she was forced to do something she had no idea of what it was, all the times she felt scared, felt dirty, doing something she didn't want to. god, she didn't want you to feel like that. she never wanted anyone to feel like that, ever.

"are you a virgin, lyubovmoya? (my love,)" her voice sounds extremely calm and tender that it makes you a little surprised. "tell me,"

"yes, yes i am." you exhale and lean your head on her shoulder, eyes fluttering close.

"okay. do you wanna keep it like that?"

that. the question you've been most fearing. usually, if it were anybody else, you'd say no. but Natasha just made you feel so safe, so loved. you wanted to take that step further with her.

"no, i don't."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

"just keep 'em closed,"

your soft giggle melts Natasha. her hand covers your eyes as her hand maneuvers you by your hip, inside the bedroom. she had decided to keep everything natural for you this day. no rushed things. but she couldn't be happier. you were trusting her with that.

"did you feed Liho?" you whisper as Natasha carefully places you on a specific spot on the room.

"i'm about to fuck you and you're worried about the cat?" she laughs, making you gasp. you playfully smack her shoulder.

"you!" you smile. her hand gets removed from your eyes. they immediately get dreamy at the sight in front of you.

Natasha was only in a set of lingerie. for the first time ever, you saw her. it was something she thought — in order for you to feel safe, she'd have to show you she felt safe with you herself. because deep inside, she was just another broken, insecure person.

your eyes scanned her body, trying carefully not to stare too hard, seeing the scars and marks that engraved her skin. your fingertips shyly reached for her, and she didn't stop you. in fact, her hands hovered yours as she slid them up her skin.

a quiet 'wow' leaves you, followed by a genuine smile of yours. you pull her closer, looking all doe eyed at her. "you're beautiful,"

"i wanna see you too," she looks down at you. "can i?"

"you can," you hum, raising your arms, a silent invitation for her to undress you.

Natasha's fingertips gently tug at the hem of your blouse, before pulling it over your head. you were the complete opposite of her. smooth skin, no battle scars like hers. she was quick to kneel down and tease the buttons of your jeans, wanting to see if you would stop her or not.

"please, Natasha."

she does as you ask and undo the jeans, letting them pool around you on the floor. she helps you step out of them, and hum as you're both now half naked. everything felt otherworldly romantic and.. safe. even if Natasha was trying her best not to ruin you right there, just by seeing you so soft, so.. vulnerable for her like that. she liked being in control for once.

so your eyes squeezed shut as she suddenly pressed her body against yours and pinned you back against the wall. "shh."

your breath hitches in anticipation, her fingertips slowly tracing up your spine and allowing her palm to rest above the clasps of your bra. Natasha's free hand moves up your stomach, her knee sneakingly trapping you against the wall between your legs. she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "let me, malyshka. (baby). i know what i'm doing, just relax."

"mhm," a little whine comes out of your throat, which makes her smile. she nods in encouragement and moves her mouth close to your ear, pressing a kiss on the spot under it.

"ya ne khochu, chtoby ty zhalel obo mne, detka, (i don't want you to regret me, baby,)" she whispers in your ear, and you have no idea of what it means. but something was right — the thin fabric of your panties felt extremely soaked right now. "so, i'll make you feel so, so good."

"please," you wrap your arms around her neck, pressing yourself closer. her skin felt better than you could have ever imagined against your own.

"i'm here." she reassures you, then carefully spins you around and lay you down on the bed. her hand that ghosted over your back undid the clasps of your bra, and tossed it somewhere else on the floor.

you're absolutely sure that it was not the cold air that made you shiver and that got your nipples hard. you gulp, breathing coming out in soft pants as Natasha's hands gently handled you, cupping your breasts as her lips pressed a trail of kisses on the valley between them. "you're gorgeous, my girl."

"you feel so good," you breathe, subconsciously leaning towards her hands. her thumb pinches your nipple as she suddenly latches on you, slowly sucking on your other breast, giving both of them the same attention. "Natasha."

the way you moaned her name, breathlessly like that coaxed a sound of her own. your fingers tangled on her hair to makeshift a ponytail, so her hair wouldn't get in the way. she released your skin with a pop and claimed your lips, kissing you like she never did before — as if trying to pour all the love she had for you in the kiss. you slowly got a handle of the whole thing. you reached up to take off her bra, and yet she didn't break the kiss. only when you got impatient, whimpering as the ache between your legs became unbearable.

"i need you," you murmur, clearing your throat, lips tingling due the intense kissing. "please, Nat. make me yours."

god, yes. she was never letting you go. not before, and certainly not now.

"i will." she says huskily. she moves, so she's straddling one of your thighs, but not putting her weight on you. "tell me to stop whenever you want to,"

her pointer finger put your panties aside and jeez, that was torturous. you didn't want that fabric there anymore. but she was teasing. but that all flew away from your thoughts when you gasped, her middle and ring finger suddenly entering your hole — thumb lazily rubbing your clitoris, all of that with one hand, her other arm resting next to your head to support her weight on the bed. you instinctively reached out to hold her arm, eyes embarrassingly rolling to the back of your head. being masturbated by someone else was so perfectly good, nothing compared to doing it alone.

"oh, my.." you coo, head falling back against the pillow as your breathing quickly got laboured.

"you like that, detka?" she asks, eyeing you down almost possessively, silently promising herself she would never allow anyone to see you like that, touch you like that ever again. she curls her fingers against your g-spot, making you nod desperately.

"yes, yes yes." you gasp once more, biting on your lip and bucking your hips up towards her hand. she could tell you were getting close, you made it obvious. "don't stop,"

"my, my princess. already gonna cum for me?" she gently teases and increases the pace, doing her best to get through your clenching walls — getting another pleasured moan from you. "that quick?"

"i can't.. can't hold it, Nat," your body suddenly shudders forward, shuddering gasps coming out of your mouth as your juices coat her fingers, as they fuck you through your orgasm. it was nothing new, yet sharing it with her was definitely something else. "fuck, fuck.."

"good job, baby." she carefully pulls your panties down and throw them aside, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "that's it. i'm so proud,"

you just laid there, feeling the whole adrenaline from the new experience, letting yourself be pampered by her kisses and praises.

"hold on," your eyes snap open as she suddenly leaves you on the bed and grab something on the closet. you could've never had imagined she had it before, nor that she'd use it with you, in you, someday. a strap on. "i'm not done with you yet."

what was supposed to make you scared, the size, just got you more excited. watching her put it on was the hottest thing you ever saw, made your heartbeat go to the moon and back. and it was already hammering since the start.

"do you want to back off from this?" she whispers, now sounding genuinely concerned. you shook your head, grabbing onto her shoulders and pulling her closer.

"no, no. i trust you." you weakly confirms and she smiles. she takes one of your legs and presses it against your stomach, knee to your chest, revealing your totally drenched cunt to her. she grabbed your hip with the other hand and positioned herself.

the first inches were just fine, but you could saw it did hurt as much as she pushed inside you. you did your best to suppress your groans, but she saw it hurt. she knew it did. "shhh.. just a little bit more."

her stomach and breasts pressed against yours and she leaned her head down close to your own, pressing her cheek against your cheek, nuzzling gently, giving you all the time you needed to adjust to the size.

you felt so.. complete. filled up, by the woman you trusted the most. your arms wrapped around her shoulders when you got ready. you were so lubricated that it didn't bleed, it was just a discomfort that was soon over. "move."

with the green light, all of Natasha's self-restraint disappeared as her hands held your hips, then she began giving you slow, tiny thrusts. to introduce you to the whole thing — which you quickly became addicted.

moans surely echoed on the room when the feeling registered. it was good. it felt amazing.

"go faster," you plea, holding her body tighter to yours as your hips tried and matched her movements.

"so eager," she hisses and quickens the pace, to a point the headboard was already hitting the wall. her strong arms hold you in place as she fucks the little remains of purity out of you. "all mine now."

the tip of the fake cock brushes deeper each time she pounds into you, as you both discover the depths of your body together, as just as this new way of coming you never experienced before.

the familiar pit in your stomach slowly built tighter and got ready to snap, and she recognized that. her hand slid between your sweaty bodies to stimulate your clit a little bit more, and you were sure you moaned a little too loudly.

"Natasha!" your nails dig into her skin, as a toe curling wave of pleasure washes over you, once again.

"that's it, dorogaya," she nods, slowing down and allowing you to savour the feeling, watching you fall apart. your cum soaked the silicone material of the strap on, and honestly, the wet sounds it made got you a little embarrassed.

you weren't aware of your surroundings anymore, only that Natasha leaned her weight on you and held you close, still inside you. she rolled over to pull you on top of her, and stroked your hair, hearing the little moans you made.

"you're so perfect for me.." she coos, carefully pulling out of you, making you hiss as the material dragged across your extra sensitive walls. "you took me so well, my girl."

"thank you..." you mumble, shifting just to bury your face in the crook of her neck.

Natasha didn't want to talk right now. and she wouldn't. she just pulled the blankets over the two of you, giving you time — to feel, to think, to recompose. she sighed, and a wide smile showed on her face. she was glad you couldn't see it, she looked so giddy, so happy and so proud. she did something right. once.

[wooahaes]

skz - forgetting to kiss them

pairing: non-idol!skz x gn!reader

prompt: u forget to kiss them hello when u come home

genre: fluff!! just silly fluff

warnings: food mentions :3 + intentional lowercase & no proofreading.

daisy's notes: couldnt b me. id never stop greeting them w kisses. no one look at how long jisung's is i was particularly delulu when i wrote it

bang chan

chris noticed... almost immediately that was off about you. the embarrassing part was that it was partially due to the fact you didn't greet him with your usual "hi, i'm home" kiss.

it wasn't that chris looked forward to that kiss (he did, but that wasn't the point). he liked to think he was just... attuned to you. that he could feel the general vibe you had whenever you entered a room. he wasn't missing your "i'm home" kiss--he was merely noticing that you weren't feeling great. that something was weighing on your mind. so he called out as he heard you go back to the kitchen to get something to drink, asking about your day.

immediately, he heard you let out a long sigh. "work was awful and then i missed my bus so i had to take a cab."

chris nodded. "ah. gotcha."

you made your way over, sitting down next to him. "... did i do something?" you looked over toward the door, trying to retrace your steps. you hadn't slammed the door, and you hadn't been too late coming home...

"nah!" he looked over, "i mean, you kinda didn't give me a kiss when you came home. figured something was wrong."

you stared at him for a moment. did you really always give him a kiss when you came home? you liked to, because it was your own little way of saying "hi, i missed you," to him with just a quick peck. after a moment, you leaned in, pressing a quick peck against the corner of his lips before planting another on his lips proper.

"there," you giggled. "is that better?"

judging by the way chris giggled back, pulling you in for a third... maybe not. (but it wasn't as if you were going to complain.)

lee minho

usually, minho didn't mind whether you kissed him or not. he'd always enjoy your kisses, and found it endearing that you pressed a quick kiss against his lips whenever you came home, but he never asked nor would he ever force you to do it. sometimes he'd kiss you as a greeting, though, just because he liked to see your smile.

other times, when he was feeling a little more devious... he'd call out to you, just like he did tonight. "you forgot something!"

you came back into the room, shirt half-unbuttoned as you'd been in the middle of changing. you furrowed your brow, pouting a little as you tried to figure out what was wrong.

he just smiled at you. "you did."

a moment later, it hit you. you snorted, and made your way over, pulling him in for a kiss that lasted a few seconds longer than the usual one you usually gave him. your hands fell to his shoulders, and you drew back. "there. is that better?"

"i missed you," he giggled. "is that so wrong?"

you rolled your eyes, and gave him another peck on the tip of his nose. "love you, too, you dork," you said, pulling away from him to go change.

(and the sound of your laugh as you continued away despite the way he lunged to grab at you, just barely missing your ass... all minho could do was smile to himself.)

seo changbin

changbin was a reasonable guy. he waited a reasonable amount of time (ten minutes: you said you weren't going to shower or anything yet) before approaching you in the kitchen. "are you mad?"

you looked up from where you were working on dinner. he was so genuine about the question, and it threw you for a loop. had you done something to imply that you were...? all you did was get started on dinner because it was your night to cook. "what?"

"we always talk about these things," he said with a sigh. he crossed his arms, leaning against the counter, eyes bearing into your own, "did i do something? you can tell me if i did. it's okay."

"binnie, honey, i have no idea what you're talking about."

"really?" he frowned, and gave you this look of disbelief. "you always give me a kiss when you come home, and today, you didn't. do i need to run to the store? did i forget something--"

oh! you almost laughed at how adorable he could be sometimes. "nope," you said, reaching forward to pull him in. "just got distracted when i got home." ever so casually, you kissed him, and planted an extra on the corner of his mouth. "good to know you'd miss my kisses, though."

changbin just pulled you in again with a giggle, content to steal a few more from you before he let you go... for now.

hwang hyunjin

hyunjin didn't notice at first. he'd been curled up on the couch with a book when you came home, carrying a few bags of groceries that you insisted on handling yourself since they were for tonight's dinner. it was your night to cook after all, and--after asking to make sure you didn't want help--he settled back into his spot.

and then it hit him eventually: you... didn't kiss him when you came home. why didn't you kiss him? you always went out of your way to do it, after all. he leaned up, looking over to where he could see you deeply concentrating on the recipe you were reading. then again, you had set down the groceries and lounged around for a little bit first--the two of you had even talked during that. maybe you were mad at him? he knew he'd been petty about things before and denied you kisses as a result. maybe he was the one who was supposed buy groceries...? but you didn't give him a list or text him anything...

"honey?" he called out.

immediately, it caught you attention. 'honey' wasn't really his usual term of endearment for some reason: you were always his love, his baby. "what's wrong?"

his face grew warmer--was it really that concerning? "nothing--" he started, but realized that you only grew more concerned. "you didn't kiss me when you came home."

"oh."

he decided to keep going, "did i do something--"

"if you want it," you cut him off, "then come get it."

he just stared at you. "... what?"

"i was thinking about dinner," you said, turning back to what you were cooking. "but if you want that kiss, you'll have to come get it."

hyunjin found himself smiling, pushing aside his blanket and the book to get up and make his way over to you. he kissed you, smiling into it as well, as his hands fell to rest on your waist.

all better.

han jisung

jisung was not afraid to admit that he was deeply in love with you. and sometimes... that meant he'd overthink the little things. his heart was so full of devotion to you that sometimes he'd get too deep in his own head, trying not to do anything to wrong you. of course, he knew you, and he knew that you'd always accommodate him by telling him things outright. if he hurt you, you pointed it out and asked for space so that the two of you talk things out properly when both of you were ready for it. but today you were sitting at the other end of the couch, a pillow hugged against your chest as the two of you watched TV. or, well, you watched TV. jisung was watching you.

"hey." his foot bumped against your leg. "did something happen today?"

you tore your gaze away from the screen, brows drawing together. "no?" yet you continued to watch him for a moment, eyes scanning his face for anything that would give him away. "are you okay?"

he nodded. even that confused 'no?' was enough to soothe his thoughts. you would be honest with him, after all: that was what the two of you did. he settled into the couch. "i'm fine," he said, hoping it sounded casual enough.

yet you tilted your head, as if trying to get a better look at him. "baby?" you set the pillow onto the floor, moving a little closer. "did i forget something?"

he grew flustered immediately. "it's okay--it's not a big deal--"

"ohh," you lit up, smiling as you already knew. he liked the twinkle in your eyes whenever you knew something. "i know what it was." you crawled over to him, teasing him a little, "my jisungie didn't get his kiss today--"

he found himself unable to fight back a smile. "it's not a big deal, honey--"

"nope!" you giggled, and practically launched yourself at him. he'd end up pinned against the couch, "gotta make up for it with extra kisses for worrying my jisungie."

god, he loved you. you peppered kisses all over his face despite his laughter, slightly pushing back against where your hands were at his wrists to try and re-ground himself better against the couch, yet you didn't let go. sure, maybe you were hamming it up and acting extra cute for him... but he knew what this was. it was a message, loud and clear, that you cared about him wholeheartedly. you knew he could get anxious sometimes, especially when it came to potentially accidentally upsetting you. 'i want to make you happy' was what you told him once. he hoped you could feel the way he smiled into the soft kiss you pressed against his lips. when you drew back, you just stayed there, hovering over him and admiring how the glow of happiness looked on him.

"i'm home," you said.

jisung just brushed a stray strand of hair away. yeah... you are his home.

lee felix

as much as felix wanted to whine at you playfully for forgetting to kiss him when you came home (a staple of your relationship, he'd joke)... he couldn't help but worry. he continued to work at dinner, mentally going over your interactions today. he knew you well enough to know that he hadn't done anything to upset you unless you were having an off day where everything annoyed you (no shame in it, he thought; he had those days, too). it wasn't until after he finished making dinner that he called out to you.

"did something happen today?"

you looked up, brows drawn together, but he could see the fatigue on your face from stressing about something. "no?"

he set aside what he was doing, making his way over to where you were sitting, laptop open in front of you. you changed tabs immediately away from whatever you were doing for work right as felix began to knead at your shoulders.

"this is cheating," you whined, head dipping back so you could see his face.

"and i'd do it again," he said, dipping down to plant a quick peck against your forehead. "you can talk if you need to. i don't mind listening."

with a sigh, you shut your eyes while felix continued to massage your shoulders. sure enough, there was someone you had to deal with at work that had annoyed you enough that you were still running through the conversations hours later. he just stood there, listening and nodding along as he continued to work his magic on your tense muscles.

when you finished, he leaned down to press another quick kiss against your lips. "feeling better?"

"a lot, actually," you sat straighter in your chair, reaching forward to close your laptop. "thank you, lixie."

kim seungmin

seungmin had sat on the couch for too damn long, pretending that everything was fine. yes, you didn't kiss him when you came home, but that didn't mean anything. clearly, it didn't mean anything. except maybe you were mad at him, and you were withholding a stupid kiss because of it instead of talking it out like adults. that was what the two of you agreed on: no going to bed mad. to say that you were mad and needed space. not... whatever this is.

"seungmin?" you had sat down at the other end of the couch. "what's eating you?"

his eyes were a little too sharp when he looked at you, frustration all too evident on his face when he was supposed to be hiding it. "that's what i should be asking you."

and then... genuine, unfiltered confusion. your brows drew together as you watched him, smile falling. oh.

fuck. you weren't mad at him.

"never mind," he says quickly, "it's stupid--"

you moved over so that you could reach out and take one of his hands in your own, "seungminnie, it's not stupid if it's bothering you!"

ah. using cuteness to get what you wanted. unfair. "you didn't kiss me when you came home like you always do, so i thought you were mad. so then i got made because we agreed to always talk things out."

immediately, you giggled. "aw, seungmin... you really like my kisses that much?"

when you leaned forward to kiss him, he immediately shrank away, trying to block your mouth from his own. "no! not now! it's not the same now!"

yet your laugh was enough to make him drop the act. your lips pressed against his, and he smiled into the kiss, happy to have your arms around him... even if you'd never let him live this down.

yang jeongin

jeongin considered himself one of the more mature people in his friend group. sure, he could be silly and goof off sometimes, but he'd heard his other friends with partners complain about the tiniest things that turned out to be nothing. so with you, he felt a little comfortable in assuming that your "i'm home" kiss just slipped your mind. you'd texted him your bus was running late, so he'd decided to make you a cup of tea for when you came in. and when you threw yourself onto the couch, saying nothing to him for a while...

well, jeongin had a pretty strong feeling that you needed someone to listen to you instead. he'd sat down next to you, passing you the mug as he leaned in to press a quick peck against your lips. his own little "welcome home" kiss that he'd try to greet you with sometimes, if given the chance.

"do you want to talk about it?"

he watched as you took a long sip of tea, letting out a sigh once you'd set the mug down. "work sucked."

jeongin nodded. "and your bus was late..."

another heavy sigh. you turned your face to look at him, reaching for his hand. he gave it to you without any teasing, and watched as you pressed a kiss against his knuckles.

"are you sure it's fine for me to unload all of this on you?"

"that's what i'm here for," he hummed, sliding in a little closer so that he could draw you closer. "you listen to me, right?"

the hint of a smile ghosted over your lips, and jeongin watched as you settled in, head resting on his shoulder. "right..."

he just pressed another kiss into your hair as you launched into telling him about your day. no need for you to worry about giving him any 'i'm home' kisses: jeongin would supply you with as many 'welcome home' kisses as you needed to make you smile again.

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