#i'm stuck here for the weekend with nothing to do

[eggmeralda]

iiiiii aaaaam sooooo booooored

[iknowwhereyousleepatnight]

okay we have officially entered the Winter Break Is Driving Me Mad zone

[ilsanslut]

꒷♡꒷ STUCK!

♰ featuring: nagi seishiro + shidou ryusei (separate) [blue lock]

♰ note: thank you all so much for supporting my last work as much as you did. it really means so much to me that people genuinely enjoy my writing and my content! now, as my second-ever work, i would appreciate it greatly if you would continue to support my work by reading, liking, and reblogging! also, I tried to make their sections as even as possible, but i'm a ryusei simp so uhhh enjoy!

sypnosis: in which you find yourself stuck in a rather precarious position and your boyfriend decides to "help" you. not without proper payment first, though. wc: 3.4k content/trigger warning(s): 18+. SMUT. fem/fem-bodied reader. stuckage. shidou is a warning on his own. accidental choki abuse (nagi). dry humping. degradation. unprotected sex. rough sex. creampie/breeding. spanking. name-calling/dirty talk (ryusei). ꒷꒦

NAGI SEISHIRO.

It was a normal weekend, unlike any other. It was just before noon, and you were cleaning your and Seishiro’s shared apartment while he was at the gym with Reo. You were diligently working to remove the accumulated dust from your wooden dresser with a disinfectant wipe that had a coconut scent when, all of a sudden, your hand bumped into something rather hard.

“Choki!!”

You shrieked, watching in horror as your boyfriend’s beloved potted cactus flew off of the dresser and knocked into the wall behind it. Everything moved in slow motion, and you could only gawk in horror as the pot spun once, twice, and then tumbled behind the dresser. You grimaced inwardly, awaiting the sound of shattering ceramics and the dull shuffling of displaced dirt, but it never came. Instead, the sound of the pot sliding down the wall and "gracefully" hitting the floor was heard instead.

With baited breath, you grabbed your phone, turning it to flashlight mode. You used it as a visual aid as you peered behind the dresser to assess the damage, sighing with relief when you saw Choki, Seishiro’s child, lying almost undisturbed between the wall and the backboard of the dresser.

Now here comes the difficult part, moving the dresser.

Kicking off your fuzzy house slippers to give yourself some traction, you grabbed the back end of one side and mustered all of your strength to shove the heavy thing out of the way—slowly, of course. Choki’s life was at stake here. However, you were only able to move the heavy thing out of the way just enough so that you could slip part of your body inside to reach for the plant. It was still a very tight fit.

Getting on your knees, you maneuvered between the tiny space you created, squeezing your arms, shoulders, and ribcage between them until the tension finally gave way at your waist. Breathing out in relief, your fingertips finally managed to grace the pot’s edge, pulling it into your grasp.

“Got . . . cha . . !”

You tried to shuffle backward, but you couldn’t. Attempting once more, you would come to realize that the dresser and the wall had some sort of death grip on your hips, rooting you in place. You were stuck. Trapped. And Nagi wouldn’t be home for another 30 minu—

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

You breathed, overjoyed at your boyfriend’s sudden voice. He always had the habit of moving in complete silence, despite his massive size. You hadn’t even heard him come home.

“Sei, oh, thank god! C-Can you pull me out? I think I’m stuck!”

You could barely make out the sound of his soft footsteps padding against the wooden floor as he made his way over to you. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body as he stood behind you, yet he made no effort to save you just yet.

“How did you even manage to do something like this?”

His confused tone held an unamused lilt, one that made your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

“I was cleaning the dresser, and I accidentally knocked Choki over. They’re fine! B-But I can’t get out . . .”

Still nothing.

Was he mad? Disappointed? Since you could not see him, you could not tell. You were aware, though, that his gaze was "burning" into you. You shifted, partially in discomfort, as you made a point to wiggle your hips so that he could focus on the task at hand. As a result, you could hear him drawing in a sharp breath through his teeth. Before you could ask him what he was doing, you felt him kneel behind you. His two strong hands came into contact with the exposed skin around your hips, where your shirt was rising. He did not pull, though. The opposite happened; you felt him pressing against you, his bulge delightfully nestling against your folds through your thin pajama shorts.

“Seishiro?!”

He effectively silenced your confused warble in exchange for a surprised squeal when his open palm placed a firm smack on one of your cheeks. All the while, he shamelessly ground himself against your core, stating, “That was for Choki." You swore that you could hear the pout in his voice when he spoke.

“Removing you would be a hassle. Besides, I’m tired.”

B-But what about me?!

You wanted to protest, however, you refrained. You felt his lithe fingers pinch the fabric just over your clit as he pulled it to the side, resting it against your ass and exposing your pretty folds to his prying eyes. You heard his hands rustling with his sweatpants and boxers before you felt him tapping the pretty pink-flushed tip of his cock, which you loved so much, against your sensitive bud causing you to keen and your toes to curl.

“Wish you could see how pretty you look right now.” He mumbled, teasingly pressing the head of his cock against your entrance a few times, but never pushing in fully.

“I-If you got me out, Sei, then maybe I could . .” Your voice was unsteady as your anticipation began to build in the form of your puffy folds beginning to leak for him, the lewd sounds of it squelching around his tip echoing in your quiet room.

He answered you with silence and actions rather than with words. In one swift motion, he pushed entirely into you, and without waiting for you to adjust, he began to thrust his hips into you at a steady pace. You clenched around him, nails scratching against the backboard of the dresser, the wall, the floor—anything to brace yourself from your boyfriend’s fervent pace. Once he got started, he wouldn’t stop until he spilled entirely inside of you, filling you to the brim with his cum.

“S-Sei, it’s too much!” You mewled, yet your body writhed with pleasure. You always said this, and yet, he knew you could take it. You've done it many times before. That’s why he reached further into the space you had created to bunch up the back of your his shirt and used it as leverage as though he were pulling your hair to pummel into you faster and deeper. Your ass rhythmically pounded on his pelvis, sending a lewd ringing through your own ears as it echoed off the bedroom walls. Something about this precarious situation you were in mixed with the feeling of Seishiro’s cock hitting those sweet spots inside of you, enthralled you more than usual. You were close and he could feel it.

“Gonna cum f’me, already?” He grunted as his other hands squeezed your hip, their blunt nails digging into your flesh. His moans were heavenly, a sound you longed to hear, as your walls fluttered around him. The hand that was on your hip pressed itself against the edge of the dresser, shoving it effortlessly to the side and thus freeing you from your confines. Although he appeared so unsuspecting, Seishiro’s strength, when he decided to use it, was frightening. Your lower half fell to the ground, your breasts and cheek smushing against the wooden floors as you felt his soft fingertips rubbing fast, furious circles around your clit.

“Oh my god, S-Sei, I-I’m gonna—”

“C’mon, make a mess for me, pretty.”

You did exactly that, creaming delightfully around his cock while mewing in ecstasy. Before long, you could feel Sei's hot seed bursting inside of you and filling up your pretty pussy to the brim, as well as his hips stuttering against you. Both of you were panting as he pulled out of you, your releases dribbling out of you and pooling beneath you onto the floor.

You finally managed to get off your sore knees and elbows as you turned to face your lover with trembling limbs. It was at this point that you noticed Seishiro's eyes, which were burning with something fierce and unknown, were boring into your own. His eyes resembled that hungry expression he would have when his ego started to rule him on the field.

“Let’s do it again, Y/N. On the bed this time.”

God, he was going to be the death of you someday.

SHIDOU RYUSEI.

You had a rather eventful day. Starting off leisurely in the morning, you and your boyfriend Ryusei enjoyed a pleasant brunch together before deciding to head out to the beach that day. You had to pick a spot with some privacy because Ryusei insisted he was only there to “freshen up his tan”, which required him to be in the nude, while you were there to enjoy his prescene, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, and the sensation of sand between your toes. Only a short while ago, the two of you finally arrived home. Ryusei was currently taking his own shower, as you had already finished yours.

Relaxing on the couch in nothing more than an oversized shirt and your panties, you had decided to turn on some Netflix with the intention of finding either a good or a fun-bad horror flick to watch, when all of a sudden, the slippery lotion residue on your hands caused the remote to slip from your grasp and tumble onto the floor and skid beneath the coffee table. You groaned, head tossing back with exasperation, as this minor inconvenience was nearly enough to ruin your entire night and make you not even want to watch a movie anymore. Nonetheless, you sulked off the couch and sank to your knees, searching for the offending culprit beneath the coffee table. Somehow, it had managed to slide to the other side of the room, mocking you as it lay motionless between the walkway in the middle of the coffee table and the television. Any normal person would’ve simply gotten up and walked around the table to retrieve it, however, you were not like most people. I mean, look at your taste in men, for starters. Not to mention, you’re incredibly stubborn.

Instead, you crept beneath the table's glass top and between the second shelf, stretching your slender fingers as far as they could reach until they touched the black exterior of the remote. However, it was a little too far away for you to grasp, and your touch, combined with your wooden floors, only served to push it further away from you. You swore, glaring at the thing as though it had just offended your loved one, huffing in defeat as you decided to rise and walk to the remote.

But you couldn’t.

Your brow furrowed in perplexity as you placed one palm flat on the ground and the other on the surface beneath you, attempting but failing to push yourself back. You were wedged between the table's glass top and bottom shelves, flat on your chest. The more you wiggled, the further you seemed to wedge yourself in between the two surfaces that held you taut.

You stopped, dumbfounded. As much as you dreaded calling Ryusei for help because you knew he would taunt you endlessly instead of helping you . . . you did not have many other options.

“Ah, Ryu!!” Your voice carried through the hallways, hoping that he was out of the shower to hear you yell.

“. . . Yeah, babe?”

His voice made your heart lurch in your chest. You were already debating whether you should just say nevermind and try to wiggle out on your own, or put your pride aside and ask for his assistance. In the end, the latter would be victorious.

“Could . . . Could you come here for a second? . . . Please.” Your plea was quiet, your cheeks already burning with shame as you awaited your impending doom.

You raised your gaze towards the master bedroom, where he was currently. How cruel fate was to put you in a position where you would be forced to watch him approach. Each second felt like an eternity until you heard the soft padding of Shidou's feet leaving the carpeted bedroom to shuffle along the wooden floors, only to abruptly pause.

Sheepishly, you peeked up at him through your lashes to where he stood, chest bare, droplets of water dripping from his unstyled hair and body, a towel that he used for his hair wrapped around his shoulders, and a towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist. His face was expressionless, his fuchsia oculars taking in the scene before them in silence. Your shy, embarrassed gaze, the position of you between the coffee table, and the cursed remote only inches away from his own feet.

“—You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

How you wished you were facing the other way to avoid seeing the way that maniacal grin that nearly resembled the Joker's formed on his face and how his cat-like eyes narrowed at you in amusement at your misfortune.

“ . . Yes.”

He barked out a laugh at you, his head tossed back in sheer, unabashed mania, much to your chagrin. Even though you knew this would happen, your cheeks couldn’t help but burn with frustration and shame. “I know, very funny. Now, could you help me out here, please? My knees are getting sore.”

Despite your whines, his mockery would continue, his large hands grasping both ends of the towel that rested on his shoulders as he waltzed over to you leisurely. “Hmm, I dunno, babe~.” He continued walking until he crouched right before you, his legs spread wide enough for you to see that he was already semi-hard beneath the fabric. Of course, he would be aroused by your misfortune. Tearing your gaze away from his manhood, which was only inches away from your face, you peered up at him only to see him grinning mercilessly down at you with mischief twinkling in his eye. “I gotta admit, I like this view of you. How’d ya know doggy was my favorite position~?”

Probably because you’ve put me in it multiple times before, asshole. You wouldn’t say that, though. You didn’t want to prolong your torment any further.

“Ryuseii.” You whined, mustering your best pitiful glance in an attempt to draw even an ounce of sympathy from your demon of a lover. “Please?” You tried with a pout.

You couldn’t tell if your attempt worked, however, with the way Ryusei’s feral grin would reduce to a playful smirk, you figured that you have gotten through to him. He raised his hand, patting your head twice and making sure to tousle your hair while he was at it. “I’ll see what I can do, cutie.”

He made a move to rise to his feet but paused mid-squat, “No promises, though.”

You waited until he was out of your view to roll your eyes at him, hands bracing themselves against the floor as you awaited to be freed from this nightmare. Ryusei sank to his knees behind you, humming aloud as though he were trying to make a big play out of figuring out how to get you out—or how you got there to begin with. His slender digits grasped at your waist, tugging halfheartedly. You knew better than anyone that Ryusei was capable of hoisting you into the air and tossing you around as though you were nothing. That being said, it was beyond obvious to you that he was obviously making a poor attempt on purpose.

“Wow, I dunno, Y/N. You see pre-tty wedged in here . . Maybe this’ll help.”

You had no idea when he had the opportunity to do it, but he had dropped his towel somewhere along the way, and you could feel him rubbing his semi-hard on against your panty-clad ass and making your clothed folds the focal point of attack.

“Ryusei—!” In frustration and arousal, you laboriously dragged out the syllables of his name. As much as you wanted to be mad at him, you knew that something like this was coming.

“Mm, yeah, keep saying my name just like that, baby.” He sighed blissfully, shamelessly now humping himself onto you until he was full mast, his hardened shaft twitching excitedly between your pillowy ass cheeks while his blushed tip beaded with pre. “Hah, shit, that’s it. ‘Could cum right now, all over ya’. You want that, angel? Want me to paint this pretty ass—” He paused, raising his palm high into the air before bringing it down unforgivingly against your rear to accentuate his point. “Look at that. Ya want me to paint this pretty ass with my nut, hm?”

"Yes, please, Ryu . . ?" You said against your better judgment as your thighs pressed against one another and your teeth dug into your bottom lip.

He chuckled throatily, already pulling your panties down your plump thighs until they rested on the backs of your knees. He lined himself up with your already drooling cunt, not wasting any time to push into you with one single thrust. He bottomed out inside of you, drawing all of the breath from your lungs. His pelvis pressed flush against you, blunt nails biting into the flesh of your hips and ass as he greedily pulled you against him. It was almost as if he were trying to force himself further into you than he already could. You whimpered beneath your breath, clenching around his cock as you felt his balls pulsing against your sensitive clit. He had only just entered you, and already he was about to cum.

“Greedy fuckin’ pussy.” He snarled through clenched teeth, picking up his pace. “Grippin’ me so tight, suckin’ me in so good, ngh—s-so desperate to be stuffed with a cock.”

His thrusts were sloppy and uncoordinated, but he did everything he could to keep bullying his cock into you, drool dribbling over his parted lips. It should be illegal for you to feel this good. It wasn't fair. He wanted to ravish you—take his time turning your cunt into his personal little pocket pussy, his perfect fucktoy, already premolded to the shape of his dick. But damn, he was about to bust, and you were approaching your climax too.

His pace grew relentless, barely giving you time to breathe or even think as he forced your hips to fuck back onto him, drawing a helpless gasp or delighted moan from your pretty lips with each impassioned thrust. You squirmed in his hold, your breath coming out in hot tufts as your end grew near.

“R-Ryu, baby, hah, mphf!!” You could barely get the words out as he fucked you within an inch of your life. “I-I’m close! M-My clit, please! I c-can’t reach it; touch me, plea—”

“No.”

His response was curt—simple, snarled out in what could only be described as a ferocious growl. His movements grew sloppier, his hips faltering in their pace as his cock throbbed heartily inside of you, ready to burst. “You cum on my, ngh, fuckin’ cock or not at all. Ya hear me, y’little cock-lovin’ slut?”

You whined in protest, to which the forward brought his palm down heavily on your already reddening cheeks from just his grip on you alone. If he could’ve reached you, he would’ve had a vice grip on your hair by now. “Answer me, bitch.” He spat with false malice, “Y’gunna cream around my cock? Make this fat dick a mess, hm?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Came your loud, unabashed chorus of unfiltered, unadulterated moans of sheer bliss.

Neither of you could hold back anymore. Ryusei spilled rope after rope of his hot, sticky seed into your abused cunt while your pretty folds creamed around his shaft in a way that could only be described as tantalizing. Silence, aside from both of your spent keens and blissed panting, filled the air around you. Once he was certain you were plugged full with his cum, Ryusei effortlessly snatched your body from between the coffee table, causing your exhausted body to collapse into his lap. As exhausted as he was, he made sure to cup your head so that it didn’t hit the ground too hard. He was always the sweetest when his post-nut clarity hit him. He took in your expression, noticing that your eyes were half-lidded and glassy with fat tears spilling from your waterline; your drool-covered lips were plump, red, and raw with the faintest of indentations along them from your pearly teeth; and your body convulsed and twitched ever so slightly from the sheer intensity of your orgasm. Not to mention the utterly fucked-out and euphoric look on your face.

. . . Ah, shit. He was hard again.

“Still with me, princess? . . Good. Come suck this cock clean and let me ruin that pretty face of yours even more~.♡”

ⓒ vampiie 2023 — all rights reserved. please do not repost my work outside of tumblr, modify, or translate my work in any form/means. please do not share my work to tiktok or any other site.

[enkvyu]

7:02pm — gojo satoru ; part two to this imagine

"gojo, your hair is in my mouth."

"you're lucky i washed it a few days ago."

you peer up at him over your phone. "a few days? how many? gojo, tell me."

gojo hums to himself and you hate that it might be serious consideration that he's under. "like maybe seven?"

you gag, flailing at your mouth and spitting out the few strands. you faintly hear gojo complain but it's overridden as you deal with your dilemma.

the two of you were curled inside the stomach of one of getou's curses as it flew across the ocean to arrive back at jujutsu high. the cramped space and gooey flesh makes you shiver, effectively increasing your poor mood, but perhaps the biggest detriment was the person you were stuck with.

sure, public transport was a viable option but yaga had specifically emphasised on the "top-secret" and "classified" written in big bold red letters on the mission file. this meant no one was to know, not ordinary people, not curses and not even other sorcerers.

granted, the school had access to one private jet which they were willing to offer, but that jet only had space for one.

the three of you had sat down and played a game of scissors paper rock to determine who takes it, and while you were lucky to win it for the trip forward, getou ends up victorious for the way back.

and now, you were stuck in close proximity with gojo inside the gut of a flying dragon.

"why are you in such a bad mood anyway?" gojo has the audacity to ask, as if he wasn't the sole reason why you were uncomfortable. you keep your mouth shut though, nothing good will come out of admitting your undying, and unfortunately unrequited, love for him.

"i'm in a perfectly fine mood."

"why do you look like that then, all constipated and everything? did you not go to the bathroom before we left?"

you curl your fingers into a fist and punch him in the chest. it hits his uniform, smearing some of the curses' stomach juice. "of course i did! i'm not a newbie sorcerer."

"ouch!"

"that didn't hurt you."

"how are you going to tell me how i feel?" gojo jabs back. "because it did hurt, it hurt my feelings."

"oh boohoo."

"so you are mad."

you bite your lip and turn away, finding the abdominal wall of the beast easier on the eyes than your own friend. "i'm not."

"you're sulking."

"i'm not." you hiss before taking in a deep breath. "look gojo, can we just stay quiet until we get there?"

gojo keeps staring at you through his glasses and his face fails to give his thoughts away. the suspense is killing you, but before you can relent and ask what he has to say, he clears his throat.

"i have something to tell you."

you sigh, rubbing at your head. "what is it?"

"wait, don't turn around and keeping looking at the wall. hey, what did i just say?"

"gojo, the view isn't really the best to sightsee. why can't i look at you?"

"because if you do, i don't think i can tell you after all."

you close your mouth. "is it that serious?"

"yeah." he clears his throat again, adjusting the collar of his uniform. "look, i know you've been weird around me the past few days and i don’t think it’s because i stretched out your uniform when i wore it last weekend. i don't know why you’re being mean to me, and shoko and getou won't tell me either."

you resist the urge to look at him. "you're having this kind of talk with me now? here? seriously?"

"you won't even stay in the same room as me for more than a few minutes! getou may call this curse his bad-luck curse but for me right now it's the only way to get you to listen to me." he stays quiet for a few seconds. "this is really serious, okay, so don't make any comments. i know you're practically brimming with them."

it was true you had a lot to say, but gojo's serious attitude was putting you off. still, having him call you out made you more aggravated and you let one slip. "well, this is really bad-luck for me."

gojo clicks his tongue and you can see the irritation on his face before his words are even coloured with it. "i'm not telling you this so you can feel the same way but—"

the curse suddenly tilts to the side, throwing you into gojo as the four walls of its stomach becomes a wheel, rotating you around. you yelp as your forehead hits him hard in the chest, tears springing to your eyes at the pain.

“what’s going on?”

the two of you spin round and round, and you can't distinguish your screams from gojo's as gravity plays you like a toy, throwing you around.

the movement makes you sick. "gojo, do something! blast it!"

"getou'll get mad if i kill another one of his curses!"

"are you kidding, we're going to die!"

gojo swears, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his chest. with his other arm, he holds out his hand and presses it on the flesh.

you tuck your chin in, squeezing your eyes shut when you realise he hadn't started chanting his technique. "what are you doing?" you look up at him and find him staring at the exit of the stomach through all the goo and chaos.

with a trembling finger, he points to it. you stare into the abyss, squinting your eyes to make out its indistinct shapes. what was that pulsing thing, attached to the side? and was it just you, but was it getting bigger?

with a start, you realise that the curse was about to throw up. and coincidentally, so were you.

"it's going to throw us up!" you share your realisation with gojo but the look on his face tells you he already arrived at the same thought.

he opens his mouth to say something, or scream you're not too sure as the walls of the stomach contracts. distantly, you feel gojo slide his other arm around you and his infinity takes over, shielding the two of you as you're forcefully ejected from the curse's mouth.

a scream escapes your throat as you escape the curse's, wind rushing through your ears. gojo swears again, bringing his arm up to protect your head.

you only know you're safe when you feel air again, the real kind, not the gas built up in the curse's stomach. a thud tells you gojo has landed on solid ground again and you've never felt more grateful to be alive, your entire body relaxing as your soul leaves.

gojo sighs with you, his hold slightly loosening.

getou watches as you're spat out, stepping out of the private jet with a big smile on his face. "you guys look rough."

you feel gojo tense his jaw rather than see it. "what was that for?"

getou shrugs, throwing a bag over his shoulder. he starts digging through it. "i told you that curse is some serious bad-luck. at least you both arrived in one piece.” he looks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “literally in one piece, are you guys going to stay like that forever?"

your mind slowly pieces together your position, still curled up in gojo's arms as he is sat on the pavement, before you leapt out. gojo makes no move to stop you, though you think he might have tsked.

"here, this is for you." getou finally pulls out what he was searching for from his bag and throws it at the two of you.

you catch it instinctively, studying the object in your hand. "a can of soda?"

"for surviving."

"that curse of yours is a safety hazard." you mutter, but accept the can. you crack open the lid and tilt your head back, taking a long, cool sip.

gojo stares down at the drink. "i told you i don't like this flavour!" he complains and you roll your eyes at his antics.

"then don't drink it."

"no. give me your one instead."

getou pauses, halfway to opening his own iced coffee. "huh? i got this for me. and you don't even like coffee! you should be glad i even got one for you in the first place."

"let's play a game of rock paper scissors to decide who gets it."

"no. i just told you i got this for me."

gojo stands up, taking a step forward menacingly. "huh? after what you put me through, you think i'm just going to take no for an answer?"

getou's eyes flicker to yours before he takes up gojo's challenge, activating his cursed technique. black liquid opens up the air beside him, a peering red eye on the other side. "can't handle rejection, gojo? because you better get used to it."

you take another sip as you watch the boys, absentmindedly wiping at a stain on your sleeve. you remember the feeling of gojo's arm around your body and you blush despite yourself.

"are you feeling sick?"

you look up to see that gojo had stopped fighting with getou, his entire attention on you.

"huh?"

"you're red in the face. you look like a tomato."

ignoring the last part, you hide your face behind your drink. "i'm fine."

getou looks between the two of you and there's a glint in his eyes that you've seen before, one that you've grown to dread.

he throws back the rest of his coffee, grimacing as it gives him a slight brain freeze, before crushing the can in his hand. gojo mutters a quick, "show off" that he ignores, instead chucking the can into a bin a few metres away.

"what a time." he starts saying, the words static. "that was great. well, now that i've finished my drink, i should head back inside."

“i should head in too. i smell real bad.” you sigh and give gojo a glare when he agrees.

“actually, can the two of you stay here? i think my curse isn’t feeling too well after eating you two. just until i come back, okay?”

you think there might be an ulterior motive but glancing over at the curse, you find that it did look greener than before.

"where are you going, and for how long?" you ask and hope the look in your eyes will make him stay.

"i need to tell yaga we finished the mission. you guys can just stay here, i've got it." then to you, he says, clenching his fist in support, "you got this."

you want to break his arm.

getou hurries away despite your silent plea, leaving you in an awkward silence with the one person you wanted to avoid most. you take multiple quick sips to busy yourself, but you can’t ignore the person standing by your side.

gojo shifts his balance to his other foot and the sound of his shoe against the pavement breaks the silence. "so."

"so."

"it's really bright, huh."

"you're wearing sunglasses."

"and do they completely cover my eyes? no they don't. i can still complain about the sun."

"just push your glasses up then."

"no." gojo huffs. "i look cooler this way."

"who told you that? because i know for a fact it wasn't anyone whose opinion actually matters." you jab back.

"your mum said that, actually."

"are you a child?"

"what, are you too cool for old jokes? they're iconic for a reason."

"and there's a reason why 'your mum jokes' died and should stay that way."

the natural way in which you banter with gojo gives you confidence. maybe it didn't matter that you liked him, or that he didn't like you back. it was enough that he was here with you now, joking around. perhaps you could even live with knowing that your unrequited love had come to an end, perhaps you could even pair them up yourself without a sense of bitter jealousy.

"i know you like getou." gojo says in one breath.

the peace you had come to, shatters.

"what?" you say in an inhale, and it comes out sounding weird.

gojo pouts, crossing his arms. "i'm right, aren't i? you like getou. i heard what you were saying to shoko that one time."

"don't eavesdrop on other people's conversations!"

"you were saying it pretty loudly, what was i meant to do? shut my ears?"

you wave away his whining. "stop, hold on. you think i like getou?"

gojo nods. "i don't think you do, i know. you said you like people like him."

"when did i ever say that? also, i'm not the one who likes getou, you are!"

"what?"

"what, what? you do, don't you? you told me yesterday that you liked getou."

"i never said that!"

"then who were you talking about?"

"who were you thinking about?" gojo shoots back. "because you didn't even hesitate when you explained your type to shoko. you were thinking of someone, weren't you?"

you gulp. "i asked first."

he looks at you long and hard and you stare back at your reflection through his glasses. his mouth opens and there's a mixed sense of dread and anticipation brewing in your stomach.

"tch."

"did you just click your tongue at me?"

gojo faces away. his jaw is tense as he blatantly ignores your question. "you're really annoying."

"huh? speak for yourself!"

"you have a problem with me?"

"i have a problem with your stupid attitude."

when gojo closes the distance between the two of you, you take a step back out of instinct. it doesn't matter though because gojo steps forward again, pushing you up against the curse getou had left behind. he slams a hand into the flesh of the curse and it makes a startled sound. the both of you ignore it. "it's you, idiot, i like—"

the force behind his slam is frightening, but the thought is torn from you when the sound of regurgitation grabs your attention. with a start, you turn around at the curse and find your phone on the ground at the entrance of the curse's mouth, covered in goo.

"my phone!" you exclaim, bending down to pick it up.

gojo backs up and groans loudly, but you don't care, wincing instead when the item is sticky.

"i didn't even know i lost this! thanks gojo, i think." your voice trails off wearily, holding up the phone and watching as viscous liquid slowly drips off it.

gojo rubs his face with his palm and you wonder why he looks so distressed. "that curse is seriously bad luck." meeting your eye, he points a finger at you. "listen to what i have to say!"

you raise your eyebrow at him. "damn okay, gojo's arrived." you mutter, wiping down the phone and pocketing it.

the clouds overhead parts, sunlight shining down in rays. the trees whistle in the summer breeze and light filters through the gaps in the leaves and branches. it hits gojo perfectly, adorning him in a golden light and you've never seen him so beautiful. guilt fills you at the thought and you hold your soda tighter.

he breathes in one more time. "i don't care that you like getou." he says. "because it doesn't matter to me. it just means i have to work harder to change your mind and get you to notice me instead."

"it's kind of hard to not notice you." you say. "i mean, look at what you're wearing."

gojo hisses. "don't ruin the mood, you're throwing me off. like i was saying, it's not your fault you like getou but i had to tell you this anyway, because it's been making my heart feel all prickly and stuff. so shut up and just stand there looking pretty, or whatever." his last few words trail off uncertainly, as if he never intended to say them at all.

"what are you even saying?" your heart picks up. was he about to confess?

"i'm saying that i think i like—"

"there you guys are!"

your head whips around at the voice, scanning the familiar landscape before settling on a single person. shoko stands metres away, waving a hand to grab your attention. "over here!"

"shoko!" a grin splits across your face. "i haven't seen you all day!"

"am i interrupting something?" she yells to get her voice across the distance.

you don't even look over at gojo as you shake your head. you had a feeling he was just going to tell you something you already knew, that he liked getou, anyway. “no! hold on, i'm coming over."

before you can run up to her, gojo grabs your arm, a deep frown etched on his face. "wait, you still haven't—!"

without another thought, you hand him your half-finished can of soda and wriggle out of his hold. "you can have the rest of that. i'll hear you out later, okay?"

"but the mood was so right!"

"look after the curse until getou’s back, later!"

gojo stands there in front of the bad-luck curse, one arm limp by his side and the other holding a can of blue soda. he watches as you fling yourself into shoko's arm, already listing all the things you've been saving up to tell her.

there's that prickly feeling again, gojo realises, noting the way the sun lightens the shade of your hair, the way your eyes curve up as you smile, and the way you hold onto shoko's hand, wishing that he had enough courage to hold yours.

defeated, battered and drained, gojo looks down at the can in his hand, and notes the slight lipstick stain on the rim.

with a red on his cheeks that didn't come from the sun, he presses the aluminium to his lips and takes a sip. it tastes sweet.

gojo decides that he'll just have to settle for this.

i hope this was okay considering i had no intentions of writing a part two. sorry for all the descriptions of stomachs and throw up, i was studying the digestive system 👎 if this isn’t what u guys expected feel free to leave a request !!

[jorjin]

Thinking about that post about solitude and loneliness and man. Am I feeling lonely rn

[toji-girl]

best friend | s. geto

tags: 18+ only content - mdni + fem reader + pussy eating + teasing + best friend trope + I'm using my favorite tropes for these + face sitting + repost

"Why do you keep sighing? It's starting to get annoying you know." Geto muttered looking up at you from his position, currently, he was stuck under the desk he had been helping you put it together.

Ever since he came over and started helping all you've done is watch him like a hawk.

At first he didn't mind but it distracted him from doing what he came here for, instead, he was focused on you and your sweet moans he heard when he came over the other day to see you playing with yourself humping your pillow.

You looked down at him and desperately ached to sit on his face, the thought has been plaguing your mind ever since last weekend when he made off comment about you actually doing it.

His eyebrows furrowed in the middle nudging you with his elbow pulling you away from your lewd thoughts, it has been several months since you've been laid or even kissed.

Suguru has plump lips you wanted to press your own too, would they mold together perfectly? He was your best friend so you probably shouldn't be thinking that but you are only human after all.

A human being who has needs and there's nothing to be ashamed of, right? "Nothing, are you thirsty or anything?" You asked not wanting to answer his question because you knew he'd tease you to no end.

He shrugged and looked back up at the task at hand; trying to screw the last one in to make sure the wood didn't collapse on you. Out of his peripherals, he could see your panties under the shorts you wore.

Part of him wondered if you did it on purpose, the sexual tension seemed to only grow the more you two hung out. "That's not a yes or no, are you thirsty or not?" You asked again crossing your arms.

Again it would be so easy to lower yourself onto his pretty face and fuck his mouth until you were completely spent. "Water is fine." He finally replied and watched you walk out of the room.

While you were gone for a few minutes Suguru formulated a plan in his head, thanks to the white cotton of your underwear he could see how wet you were and he hasn't even done anything, yet.

When you entered your bedroom again you crouched down next to him and sat the water bottle down glancing at him. "I can smell how turned on you are, am I making you wet?" He asked staring at you.

His question caught you off guard, heat flooded your face and between your legs. "W-what are you talking about? You're a pervert." You sputtered standing back up.

He grinned and curled his fingers around the hem of your shorts. "And you're not for wanting to fuck me, mhm?" He hummed tugging the fabric down your legs.

You didn't stop him and let your shorts pool around your ankles and watched as he slid out from under your desk still laying on the ground. "How about you sit on my face? Let me taste that pussy."

When you opened your mouth to say something he smirked. “Don’t talk, just spread your legs." He told you in a tone that wasn't one you wanted to argue with.

Suguru almost laughed at how quick you were to pull your panties down and stand over him feeling a little shy at this. "Everything about you is so pretty, you know?" He murmured and helped you.

His large hands cupped your ass as you fully straddled his face until his mouth was flush against your slick pussy, his tongue parted his lips to taste the clear substance with a growl almost.

You planted your hands on the carpet in front of you with a gasp feeling his tongue swirl against your clit all the while massaging your ass feeling his cock twitch in his pants at how you let go of your inhibitions and rode his face.

He had no plan on stopping until he at least pulled two orgasms from you which you learned could happen very quickly, your moans dying out into whimpers then a sigh.

Suguru helped you off his face and into your bed letting you mold yourself to him licking his lips and memorizing the taste of you.

[moralesmilesanhour]

My second time writing a request foe someone rlly nervous lol

Can you do a

reader x earth 42 miles

Where reader wants to buy things for themselves but miles keeps buying stuff for them like anything we look at or love next thing Yk he’s buying it?

I rlly hope you can understand this bc im not sure if it made sense 💀

-sincerely sorry miller

Oh don't be nervous I understand perfectly fine!! (Under the cut as usual)

"See you, Carol!" You wiped the sweat forming around your hairline as you untied your apron with haste. You had taken extra shifts at the diner this week for extra spending money, and it had you counting down the days until Friday.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, the bell jingled as you pushed open the glass door with a grunt.

Right next door to the run-down diner was a small clothing shop, one of the few that managed to stay open. You had made it a habit to check the window for the mannequin that had your jeans on: A flaired, denim number that was optimal for weekend block parties.

"Come Friday, you're mine, baby." You say to yourself with a hand on the plexiglass display.

"I thought I was already yours," a familiar voice nearly made you jump out of your skin.

Miles' footsteps could almost never be heard, you swore he was a ninja in his spare time.

"Don't fuckin scare me like that!" You whined, smacking his shoulder as an amused grin spread across his lips.

He ignored your outburst and pointed towards the mannequin. "You want that?"

You gave him a warning look. "I'm gonna go shopping this weekend. When I get paid."

"You didn't answer the question."

"No comment," you said, spinning on your heel to walk away with Miles' gentle laughter following behind you.

When you don't stop, he jogs after you and traps you in a bear hug.

"Fuck off, Miles!" You laughed, fake struggling to escape.

"Alright, tell me what I did."

"Nothing!"

He let you go and opted to walk next to you, his long legs making it easy to keep up with you.

"Okay look, whatever you're mad at me for, I got a surprise waiting for you," Miles poked his head in front of you as you both walked, twin braids dangling over his shoulder. "Come over?"

You sighed, "Fine."

He gently took your hand and started tugging you along, presumably in the direction of his mom's apartment. "Thank you."

-

Miles' brow furrowed as he fumbled with his keys a bit before quietly unlocking the door. He turned to you and placed his index finger over his lips, and you nodded in understanding.

The familiar smell of yellow rice and scented candles engulfed the both of you when you entered the empty apartment. Rio was at work, and Uncle Aaron was likely napping in the living room, as it was only the late afternoon.

"So, where's the surprise?" You whispered.

"My room. Been up there for about a week."

You rushed up the stairs as quietly as your feet could carry you to catch up to your boyfriend, who was already halfway there and glancing down at you with an impish grin. You roll your eyes playfully. Typical.

"Lemme take that," Miles stuck his hand out for your work bag as he removed his sneakers.

Deeply inhaling the cool air of his room, you let him take it off your shoulders. You were sure that thing was starting to leave a mark from carrying it on the same side every day.

Miles sat on his bed for a moment to rummage through his black knapsack, and produced a small, pink plastic bag no bigger than the hand that held it. This confirmed one of your suspicions, and you gave him a tired smile as he stood to place it gently in your palm. He was a funny sight, hands clasped together in anticipation like a parent at Christmas.

Inside the bag was a little white box, which held a small necklace cushioned in the middle. You recognized the teardrop pendant from the mall. You had practically dragged Miles along, looking bored and scrolling through his phone the entire time. Or so you thought.

Now, he looked about ready to run a marathon from here to Manhattan as you removed the delicate necklace, the silver chain catching the little light that Miles allowed into his room in shiny strips.

"Thank you baby, I love it," you bit your bottom lip, "It's just that-"

"I could put it on you?"

You sighed, and held out the necklace. "Of course."

He damn near snatched the piece of jewelry from you to unclasp it, rushing to get behind you.

"Miles, if you break it-"

"I won't, relax!"

The cool metal settled on your skin as he gently draped it around your neck, and fastened the clasp.

"How does it look?"

Miles moved your braids back and planted a kiss on your cheek. "Pretty."

"I know you know more words than that, sir," you teased, "try again."

"Alright, breathtaking. Stunning. Effervescent."

"Now you're trying too hard."

"I'm about to take this necklace back," he muttered, earning a short outburst of laughter from you.

When the laughter subsided, you turned to face him. He let your braids slide across his hands before they fell back at your shoulders.

"Miles, I need you to do something for me."

Worry settled over the boy's soft features. "Such as...?"

"Don't buy me them jeans," you said, arms crossed but still smiling.

His brows shot up. "Why, you don't like 'em anymore?"

"I do," you draped your arms around his neck, "which is why I've been saving up to get them myself."

You watched Miles' eyes dart back and forth in thought before settling back on you. He was silent, imploring you to explain further.

"If I wanted everything gifted to me, I wouldn't have gotten a job."

Miles nods, and something seems to slot into place for him.

"So no more surprise gifts?" He says, pouting exaggeratedly.

"For at least another two weeks."

Miles winced, taking a nervous glance at his knapsack, "Damn."

Following his line of sight, you noticed the white plastic bag poking out from it.

Your jaw drops, and you give him another good smack on the shoulder.

"You bought it, didn't you?"

He smiles tightly. "Hypo...thetically?"

"Miles!"

-

A/N: idk why the hell that took me so long to write but it was fun! Happy reading!

[gunnerfc]

Stuck | Alexia Putellas x Barça!Reader

summary: you get stuck in an elevator with your ex-girlfriend who you haven't spoken to since the break up

warnings: a tad suggestive and angsty

wc: 1352

author note: all translations are from google, sorry if they aren't 100% accurate!!

You sighed as you slammed your car door, the exhaustion from training having affected you more than normal. Perhaps it was because your mind was busy racing with thoughts of your ex-girlfriend and how upset you were with her rather than football. Entering the lobby of your building, too engrossed in responding to a text message from Patri to see you weren’t the only person waiting for the elevator.

“Tienes que estar bromeando. (you got to be kidding me.)” you heard a familiar voice huff as the elevator arrived. 

You glanced up from your phone, coming face to face with the person who's been clouding your thoughts. You rolled your eyes at the midfielder, moments like these are the downfalls of living in the same building as Alexia.

You ignored her comment as you both entered the elevator, hitting your respective floor numbers. The two of you stood as far away as you could in the enclosed space, both still too pissed at the other to even make small talk about training or the upcoming weekend game. 

The elevator made it seven floors from the lobby before you felt it jerk and halt in its place. The lights flickered off before coming back on. You and Alexia shared a concerned glance as you both realized the elevator got stuck. Of course, you would get stuck in an elevator with your ex-girlfriend who refused to even talk to you after the breakup.

“ay dios mío. (oh my god.)” you heard the blonde mumbled, irritation laced her words.

You mocked her words quietly already over your current predicament. From the corner of your eye, you saw Alexia look your way, anger written all over her face.

“¿Tiene usted un problema? (do you have a problem?)” Alexia growled, not wanting to be here anymore than you do. 

“Sí, estoy atrapada aquí contigo. (yeah, I'm stuck in here with you.)” You responded, your words coming out harsher than you meant, but you didn’t care how they affected Alexia.

The two of you have yet to have any sort of conversation post break-up unless it was on the pitch, but even then it was never more than what was needed. Alexia wouldn’t give you a chance to ask why she had broken up with you, which just added to your anger towards the captain. Alexia had decided to break up with you on what seemed like a whim, ending the two-year relationship like it meant nothing to her.

Alexia didnt respond, instead making an effort to call the lobby to let them know the elevator was stuck. The quicker it gets moving again, the quicker she can get away from you. She knew it wasn’t fair to at least give you an explanation for breaking up with you, but even she knew her answer would be stupid. Alexia was nervous about people potentially finding out about your relationship and thought the best thing to do was just end the relationship. She knew it was dumb but she couldn’t tell you that. Instead, she let you hate her.

You, in your best effort to ignore the blonde, went back to the conversation you were having Patri. It wasn’t helping though, hearing Alexia angrily talk to the man on the other end of the phone was doing something to you. You hadn't been with anyone since the breakup and it was starting to mess with you. Maybe had you taken Ona’s advice of hooking up with someone one time, you wouldn't be so affected by your ex-girlfriend.

Alexia huffed as she hung up, clearly in a worse mood after the call. You tried to keep your eyes locked on your phone and not Alexia’s clenched jaw. You gave her a good two minutes, thinking she would at least tell you what was said, but it never came.

“Well?” you broke the silence, seeing as the midfielder was not going to.

Alexia turned her head slightly towards you, an eyebrow raised as if she wasn't expecting you to speak, almost as if she had forgotten you were also stuck in the elevator. 

“Están trabajando en eso. No saben cuándo se solucionará. (they are working on it. they do not know when it will be fixed.)” the blonde stated, the anger ever present in her voice. You roll your eyes, though not directed at her but at the lack of information surrounding your situation.

“Si sigues haciendo eso, se quedarán atascados. (if you keep doing that, they will get stuck.)” Alexia chastised, eyes focused on the door of the elevator.

“¿Te importaría? (would you care?)” you shot back, irritation starting to grow the longer you stand in the unmoving elevator.

“Y/N…” the blonde groaned, knowing that the two of you could go on for days arguing with each other. 

As frustration grew between the two of you, so did the pent-up tension of not speaking and unanswered questions. You went back and forth in your mind, debating if you should ask Alexia why she broke up with you now that she had no way of leaving.

"seeing as we have nothing else to do, will you finally tell me why you broke up with me?" you didn't bother switching languages, knowing the blonde would understand what you asked.

"¿Podemos por favor no hacer esto, y/n? (can we please not do this, y/n?)" Alexia said, throwing her head back with a groan. 

"¿por qué no? No es que tengamos nada más que hacer. (why not? It’s not like we have anything else to do) " you quickly responded, fully turning to face your ex-girlfriend. 

Alexia lifted her head back and turned to face you and it seemed like the walls were closing in the longer the two of you held eye contact.

"no." 

"sí."

"no!"

"ye-" You weren't able to keep the argument going as your back was suddenly up against the side of the elevator. 

Alexia's hands were tightly holding your waist, keeping you locked between her body and the wall of the elevator. you struggled to control your breathing, having missed having her hands on you. 

Alexia's lips moved closer to yours, giving you time to push her away if you wanted to. Instead, you moved a hand to the back of her neck, pulling her into a searing kiss. The weeks of being apart evident in how heated the kiss was. The grip Alexia had on your waist tightened, pulling a small moan from your lips. 

Alexia’s lips moved their way over your jaw and down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and small nips as she went. Your head was tilted back against the siding you pressed against, small pants leaving your mouth as Alexia left love bites wherever she wanted. 

Just as she pulled her away from your back, the elevator jolted to life, but neither of you made an effort to move away from each other. Alexia’s hands remained on your waist, your hand that was around her neck moving to rest against her chest. You could feel how fast her heart was beating under your palm. You could feel your own heart beating just as fast and you sure Alexia was aware as well.

The elevator dinged as it reached Alexia’s floor, she lived two floors down from you. As the doors opened, the blonde made no effort to detach herself from you. Alexia had taken too long to exit the elevator as the doors started to close again. 

Before they could fully close, Alexia moved to stick her hand in between them, forcing them open once more. Now standing in between the doors, halfway in the elevator, halfway in the hallway, the blonde stuck her hand out for you to take.

“¿quieres seguir? (do you want to continue?)” Alexia offered, a small smirk gracing her lips.

You took her hand without thinking letting her lead you down the familiar hallway, you could be angry at her the midfielder tomorrow. Right now, you were more concerned with the ache between your legs and how Alexia was going to take care of it.

[nomnomnoona]

ATEEZ: The Morning After (aka Round 2 from the night before) MAKNAE LINE

Adult OT8 imagine drabbles. Minors, please do not interact. Read the Hyung Line here.

San had planned this weekend for a good month and a half.

It was your last week before your master's abroad and San had moved mountains to match your schedule so you two could spend some time together before you'd be gone for two months.

Sure, you'd come back for the break after two months, but that was the longest you'd be apart since you two began dating.

It was just supposed to be a slow weekend in. Takeout, a b-movie marathon, breakfast in bed, taking a walk in pajamas--wholesome.

Wholesome, lazy things.

Manageable, right?

San knew you wanted to wait and he didn't question it once. He didn't even flinch when you brought it up halfway through a make-out session that set up a proper tent in his pants. In the midst of that, the man managed so nod, smile, and pull you into the most gentle hug until you fell asleep.

He knew you weren't ready, but as your boyfriend, he was, of course, hoping. And though it took all his willpower and then some, he was willing to wait as long as it took for you to be ready.

It was that moment San came over to help you cook and eat everything left over in your fridge so you could prepare to leave, that it hit you.

He was leaning over the counter cutting up mushrooms for the most imaginative soup of leftovers when you crept up behind him and slipped a hand under his shirt. He didn't flinch. He just smiled, until your hands snaked their way up his chest. That's when you felt him flinch.

You had been avoiding sexual contact with San for the last three months since you told him you weren't ready. It was almost second nature that you two were like an old, married couple. So much so, you had started to convince yourself that San was no longer sexually attracted to you.

Silly, you thought to yourself. This was something you brought about. San was just holding up his end of the deal. He was doing what you had asked him to do.

At some point, it messed with you. And that mixed into the panic of you going somewhere unfamiliar, so far from what was familiar. Then all that just piled up into a heap of bullshit that you thought, fuck it, today, you were going to fuck San sideways.

So it was in that moment that he flinched when you grazed his nipple, that you knew, this was going to be worth a few more toe dips into the water before you jumped right in.

San lay the knife down as you heard his sharp intake of breath. He set it aside and chuckled, trying to play it off. You pulled back and he released a sigh of relief until you stuck a finger between the garter of his black sweatpants and his sex cut.

"Uhm," his weak objection was nothing short of hoarse.

"I'm not trying to make this hard," you said.

San took a deep breath, "I'm finding that hard to believe," then your hand just outright landed on his already prominent boner.

"This one though," you giggled, "Mission accomplished."

"I need to hear you say you want me to fuck you or I'll just walk--"

"I want you to fu--"

You woke up stiff. Your entire body aching in the best possible way as you tried to stretch, eyes fluttering open to find San approaching you with a tray, clearly surprised you had woken up before he had completed his set up.

San put the tray down and crawled over to your side, pulling you into his arms as his little spoon. For some reason, there was a bit of remorse in the hug. You pushed back ever so slightly to tilt back and look him in the eye, finding his brows furrowed.

"Did you not enjoy last--"

He pulled you in again for a hug, his facing burying itself in your hair, "I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you? You said you weren't ready and then I do this to you before you leave for two--"

You quickly move to press your lips against his. In that moment you felt a tear of his fall onto the bridge of your nose.

You pull back, "I was ready, San."

"You promise?"

"As much as I promise to see you again in eight weeks."

.

You had woken up to a stabbing headache at 1am, inside a hotel room whose details in the furnishings brought back very distinct sensations you experienced while looking right at it as one very inebriated Song Mingi went to town on you.

You blushed every shade on the complete color spectrum when Mingi's stirring figure found its way into consciousness. Mingi sat up, spotted you and looked like he wanted to die.

You were best friends since you were children. You had gotten drunk in each others' presence since you both learned how to sneak out your brothers' ID to buy alcohol. All those years and this never happened. You never even thought of sleeping together until now.

"Is this supposed to mean something?" you asked, digging the pads of your thumbs into your temple, trying to massage the pain out.

Mingi buried his face in his hands, "I have no idea," his reply was muffled.

The silence was awkward as you both struggled to say something. No amount of small talk or a change in topic would pull you out of this. The only way was to discuss it or ignore it completely.

"But it was good," you both blinked. You had said it at the exact same time, not a single syllable was off.

Your synchronicity of thought and speech was no surprise to either of you since it always happened. It was normal that you were both so in-sync.

But what probably got you both is that you both enjoyed it.

True to your routine synchronicity, you both burst out into tear-filled laughter. It was quite the relief that this fit of laughter felt almost hopeful; as if confirming that sleeping together wouldn't ruin your almost lifelong friendship so far.

You both retained the same sense of humor and dynamic right after sex with the person you've known forever. Nothing felt more perfect.

Although this was no real indication if fucking your best friend wouldn't have long-term effects on your relationship with each other, it brought you some comfort nonetheless. At least this was something you could enjoy as it is.

Both your laughter eventually faded and you just moved over to the couch with your phone in hand. You took a seat and began to scroll, your headache was getting worse, but you didn't want to go back to sleep.

Mingi called out your name, "Head hurts?"

You nodded, releasing a grunt and deciding to just lay on the couch sprawled open, "Like hell," you replied.

"You know," he stood, walking over to you. His face-scrunching laughter from a minute ago left no traces. He looked serious, almost deadly. Your heart raced. He all but crawled to you the moment his leg touched the couch.

He set one knee between your legs, dangerously close to your crotch as he bent down to place a hand on either side of your head. Mingi was so close that you could hear his shallow, but rapid breathing, "I read somewhere that sex cures headaches."

.

Wooyoung was never one to carry baggage for very long. He was an in-and-out type of guy who, no matter how much something bothered him, he found a workaround. He never ran out of ways to access a part of him that was free from whatever hurt or enraged him. He's always been the reliable one.

But there was one night that you came home to the apartment you both shared and he immediately saw how tightly your fist was clenched. You tossed your car keys so hard it slid right out of the dining table and hit the wall. You jaw was tight, eyes sharp, and though he knew that you were aware of his presence, you were fighting the urge to look him in the eye. He has never seen you so angry.

He slouched back in the couch and watched you take on your daily routine. You left your shoes at the door, washed your hands in the kitchen sink, and reached into the pantry for a pack of instant ramen. The induction stove wasn't cooperating and though he could only see your back, Wooyoung could tell you had your last straw.

You walked out of the kitchen and he took that as his queue. He took the stove out, noting mentally to buy a new one finally, and grabbed a kettle to heat water.

Almost ten minutes later, you came out with your phone to your nose, scrolling intently through the takeout options. The smell of ramen and cheese tteokbokki pulled you out of your trance.

Wooyoung was sitting with a stupidly large grin on his face almost as if he was thinking "I did good? Are you better?"

Quietly, you took a seat across him and you both had dinner in silence.

The gesture filled you up, but not in the way food did. It filled you up in the way remembering you had the best friend in the world did. Articulating how you feel and asking for help is hard. It's exhausting and sometimes being an adult just isn't in the cards on days like this.

So to have someone like Wooyoung who was so receptive and sensitive, it helped you remember it's just a shitty day, not a shitty life.

Wooyoung was seated on the edge of his bed, eye glasses on, deeply engaged in his favorite past-time--watching foreign shows without captions or dubs and trying to guess the context.

For someone who looked like a genius, this sure did raise a few concerns.

"Hey!" his greeting was warm as he pat the space next to him.

"Are you going to turn the subtitles on at least?" you asked.

"Would you clean one ear and ignore the other?"

You knew so much about him but understood so little.

But instead of breaking your head over his WooWoo philosophy, you decided to do what you had come in for. You reached over and went for a big hug. You weren't too fond of them, but you knew he liked it and you figured this was a good way to let him know you appreciated him today.

"Hey," he cooed, warmly accepting your hug and turning to ensure you got as much of him as he could. His hand reached up to your head and stroked the back. You didn't plan for the hug to be so long, but something about it was so comfortable. It's like you fit into him perfectly. You felt so at home.

Next thing you knew, he was planting butterfly kisses on your temple, your eyelids, and then your lips. He didn't let the kiss last too long as he gently pulled back, "I'm really sorry," his breath was raspy.

"I--," he gulped. "I know you don't--I've been wanting to--I've been wanting you, but--never thought you would--," he took a deep breath and it looked like it almost hurt him to pull away, so you didn't let him.

You pulled him back into the kiss and set him down to lay on his back as you straddled him.

It would have been the morning after if it wasn't 2pm in the afternoon when you woke up Wooyoung scared the living shit out of you. He was lying on his smile, the biggest, stupidest grin on his face, "Morneeee," he almost squeaked.

"Is this how you are after sex?"

"No," he shook his head. "But it was with you, so I'm a little stoked."

His smile softened into something much less 'kid in the candy store' to one that was gentle and almost dreamy.

"Are you thinking about going again? Because I'm kinda beat," you admitted. "Maybe later tonight again."

Without missing a beat, he said, "I wanna take you on a date."

.

Here's the thing about Choi Jongho. It's very easy to forget he's younger than you are.

While everyone at the theater had personalities that fit the stage, this Choi Jongho with lungs of steel and monumental stage presence was quiet as a mouse whenever he wasn't rehearsing.

However, you were lucky enough to know another side of him.

As the production manager of this new musical, it was your job to ensure everyone was doing their job. So one day, when a very full day kicked you in the ass, you dozed off somewhere backstage on the couch set piece.

You felt a nudge and then a poke, stirring you aware as you reached for your phone to check the time.

You jolted up when your phone flashed "10:04pm".

You immediately recognized the presence next to you. Jongho was standing over you with his script and a pencil, which you assumed was what he used as the poking device.

"Your snoring was disrupting my internal timing," he deadpanned.

"Wait," you fixed your hair and looked around for your belongings. "What are you even doing here at 10pm, Jongho?"

"There are less people to cushion the acoustics," again, absolutely deadpan. Without any more context, he walked back to the stage and set his script and pencil down, resuming his own private rehearsal.

A solid hour later, you were seated on an empty hard case, waiting for Jongho to finish so you could lock up. As if on queue, he turned the corner, "Why are you still here?" he asked.

"I need to lock up," you said as you hopped off.

He lifted his own set of theater keys.

"Why do you have those?"

"Why not?" Jongho pushed the door open, gesturing for you to step out first. You were about to move when you caught his smirk.

"Wait, so how long have you had your own keys?"

He was now smiling, "Long enough to know you like the storage closet on the right-most part of the backstage area."

You felt your blood drain from your face. That storage closet was the inside joke of the company. Every time someone passed by it after rehearsals, someone was sure to be fucking inside. Having been in this company at least three years, you had your fair share of closet sex already with an actor or two.

"And," Jongho continued, "Long enough to know it looks like it's worth a try if I stayed after rehearsals and ran into you dozing off again on the set pieces."

Probably the biggest perk about deciding not to lock up just yet and drag Jongho into the closet, was that you got to find out first-hand exactly where that big voice of his came from. You also learned that as much as you loved the sound of him singing, you had a much deeper appreciation of his moans.

Soon, you both stepped out, straightening your clothes out when he blurted out, "I'm surprised no one thought of using the old tech booth in the second floor. It's sound proof."

He looked you in the eyes and smirked.

"Are you planning to perform an entire Aria next time we rehearse late?"

He shook his head, unaffected by what you were trying to imply, "No, but after I'm done with you, we might actually get a noise complaint. I'm just looking out for us."

.

Thanks for reading :)

[gaslysgirl]

I mean... oscar bestfriends to lovers celebrating his first podium? He's always so reserved, he's just got to let it out somehow right? 😌🥰

There’s not enough Piastri smut on here so I’ll do something about it

"Can you zip me up?"

Oscar looked up at the sound of your voice, placing his phone next to himself on the duvet of the bed. His tongue darted out of his mouth to lick his lips as he made his way over, unsure of what he'd find in the bathroom. There was this tension between you two all weekend already, while nothing had changed in your dynamics. You were still his best friend, you still shared hotel rooms, you were still in his garage during all the sessions. Oscar had to admit, something was different. He was on the podium in Suzuka, his first podium in Formula 1. The hug you had wrapped him up in when he came out of the car made him curl his fingers in your shirt, and he never wanted to let go again. His cock had stirred at the "I'm so happy for you, Oscar" you whispered in his ear, a line he had heard a million times after the race, but he only wanted to hear it coming from you.

Of course, you were joining him at the dinner with the team this evening. The weekend had been fantastic, also for the other side of the McLaren garage, as Lando finished P2. "Sure," Oscar replied, finally making his way around the corner of the opened bathroom door, finding you in front of the mirror, swiping some lipstick over your lips. Oscar found his breath stuck in his throat at the sight of your pretty dress, the deep purple material wrapping around you like a second skin. Your hair was draped down your back, hiding your skin that was still exposed by the dress he needed to zip up. You gave him a small smile through the reflection of the mirror as he showed up behind you, still taller than you in the heels you were wearing. Oscar swallowed hard as his fingers brushed over the skin of your lower back, and if he peeked down from this angle, he could see the small lines of the tiny piece of underwear you were wearing.

Shut up, he said to his raging mind and his cock that started to press against the zipper of his jeans. Oscar gathered himself and pulled the zipper up, his other hand carefully moving your hair aside. His eyes flickered to the side of your neck that was perfectly exposed to him. His nose caught a whiff of your perfume. It felt as if the temperature in the room rose by a thousand degrees, taking away all the oxygen in his lungs, pumping the blood faster through his veins, and filling the pit of his stomach with an insatiable hunger. He couldn't be greedy, he already had everything he wanted, a seat in F1, the trophy he scored today, but there was something missing. Oscar's fingers curled around the marble edge of the counter, trapping you in between. He was breathing through his mouth as if he couldn't get enough air otherwise, his eyes had darkened as he looked at you in the reflection of the mirror. You shivered as his nose ran up your neck, lips leaving a featherlight kiss. "Is this okay?" Oscar asked, and you nodded, almost relieved he finally decided to make the move.

You dropped the lipstick on the counter to brace yourself against the counter, feeling his chest against your back, your dress left unzipped. His erection pressed against your ass. "Oscar, we're going to be late," you hum as your eyes flutter closed when his mouth nip at your neck, his tongue warm and wet against your skin. "Do you want to stop?" he breathes, his voice raspy in a way you've never heard before. "No," you reply. You watch in the mirror how his head buries in the nape of your neck again, leaving wet kisses on your shoulder while his hands move to your hips, squeezing through the material of your dress. Oscar's cock stirred when you let out a small whimper, your ass pushed against his erection nearly has him going feral. His face heated up when the straps of your dress slid down your arms, and he pulled the top down to let your tits spill out. Oscar groans at the sight, groping at your tits while his clothed cock grinds against your ass.

Fuck, you're so wet and he barely even touched you. His reservedness always twisted your mind, brought out the imagination of what would happen if he lost his cool, if he couldn't control the hunger he carried deeply inside him. You squeezed your thighs together in anticipation, needing some sort of friction or relief. "Please," you breathed, your hand finding the back of his neck when he planted his mouth on your skin again. Oscar looked up in surprise, nearly wanting to draw back from you, but he didn't as he realized you were desperate for him to touch you, to fuck you, to fill you up. "I didn't want our first time to be like this," Oscar reveals, but he doesn't show any signs he wants to stop as he rides your dress up your waist, nearly exploding at the sight of your little panties that barely covered you up. Our first time? Your mind spun at the fact that he thought about it before, that he imagined what it would be like to be buried deeply inside you and fuck you after a race, either a good one or a bad one.

"I don't care," you reply. "I need you inside me, Oscar," you continue, making his eyebrows furrow together, and his fingers dig harder into your hips, pulling you against him once more as he tries to comprehend how much he needs you too. Oscar finally unclasps his belt and unzips his jeans, pulling them down alongside his underwear. You look at him from over your shoulder, you needed to see if his cock was anything like in your imagination. And God, it was even better. He was thick, the tip a pretty red as he was leaking pre-cum already. You watched in a trance as he stroked himself a couple of times. "I don't have any-..." "I'm on birth control," you cut him off, and you spread your legs a little more. Oscar slid the head of his cock through your pussy, groaning at how wet you were. He cursed under his breath as he slides home, feeling your snug cunt pulling taut around him. Your knees already felt like jelly, but his hands on his hips pulled your ass further back, making you lean on the counter a little more.

Oscar started to rut his hips into yours, groaning at the way you fit so perfectly around him. "Does this make you feel good?" he asked, a genuine question, but the slight innocence on his face and the way his voice rasped made you soak his cock. Oscar was satisfied with the string of moans that escaped you. He gained confidence, reminding himself that it's just you, it's just you two together, the way it has always been and the way it was meant to be. And it felt better than ever. "You're breathtaking, baby," he says as he watches you through the mirror. He watches you fall apart on his cock, his eyes zoning in on the way your mouth falls open and feeds his ego with more of those pretty whimpers. He can't look away from the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. "Oscar..." you mutter, knuckles turning white from how hard you curled them around the edge of the counter. "I'm gonna cum," you whine, squeezing around his cock.

One of his hands drops from your hips, snaking around your body and finding your clit. He rubs it with his fingers, moving in lazy circles that shoot the sparkles up your spine. "Tell me again," he breathes. "Shit, I-... I'm gonna cum," you cry out as his cock keeps rubbing against that spongy spot inside your body. He presses you up against the counter to make sure you keep standing up straight. You let your head fall back against his shoulder as you came hot and heavy, goosebumps rising on your skin as his cum fills you up. Oscar pulls out, pulling his jeans back up and reaching for a towel to clean you up. He smooths your dress down your body again, this time zipping you up all the way. You let out a soft laugh as your eyes locked in the mirror. You turn around to face him for the first time, looking at his handsome face and his hair that became slightly messy. "This was a better reward than the trophy," Oscar said. "I believe so," you chuckle, bringing his face down to kiss you properly.

"We need to go," you mutter against his mouth as his hands find your hips again, ready to hoist you up the counter and do it all over again.

"Yo!"

The knocking on the door of Oscar's hotel room followed next, making you break apart. "Stop fucking in the bathroom, I've been waiting for twenty minutes already and I'm hungry!" you both laughed at Lando's voice, and you quickly wiped your lipstick from Oscar's mouth before rushing to get your purse and leave.

[whorekneecentral]

merry smutmas series

hi besties!! since I'm skipping out on kinktober this year, I figured I wouldn’t be fair for me to leave you guys without some sort of holiday treat so here we go again. 

I won’t be able to fit everyone into this series cause with would have taken me forever so between classes and other fics, I’ve been working on this since august lmao. I hope y’all enjoy these as much as I enjoyed writing it &lt;33 // massive thank you to @oconso for the banners and to @themandaloriansdiaries for all the help plotting and for listening to my complaining <3

running from: November 1st to December 31st - every Tuesday, Thursday and on the weekends

tagged under: merry smutmas xoxo 

November 1st: Sebastian Vettel - Sticky Fingers 

Your husband spends his first Christmas at home since his retirement and he went a little.. a lot over board. 

November 4th: Trent Alexander Arnold - As Red As My Stockings 

Trent’s crush on the pretty physio is well known amongst the players. They make sure to help him fulfil one last Christmas wish before you all head home for the holidays.

November 5th: Pato O’Ward - Snow Storms 

Your boyfriend insists the roads are fine to drive despite the massive incoming snow storm; as someone who grew up in cold weather, you knew better. yet, there you were stuck on the side of the road with him in the snow. 

November 7th: Ruben Dias - Miss Me, Miss Me

Your brother holds his annual Christmas party and you’re forced to spend the afternoon with the one person you had been avoiding all season but tis’ the season you guess. (stones!reader)

November 9th: Pierre Gasly - Cocoa

You have your boyfriend drive all around the city until you find the one thing you were looking for. When you finally find it, you decide you want something else. 

November 11th: Ben Chilwell - Snowflakes On The Glass 

Ben insists on having a snowball fight when he wakes up to the massive snowfall but you want nothing more than to stay in bed. 

November 12th: Kimi Raikkonen - Only The Best For You 

Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly. (dad’s best friend!kimi) 

November 14th: Lucas Paquetá - Spin Me Around 

Lucas busts out the champagne and the streamers to celebrate the new years in your new place. 

November 16th: Yuki Tsunoda - Sous Chef 

Yuki finds himself more fascinated by the woman cooking than the food on his plate for once. (chef!reader) 

November 18th: Erling Haaland - Christmas On The Farm 

Erling takes you home to spend the holidays at the Haaland Family Farm and you two end up being the only ones there. 

November 19th: Lance Stroll - Old Friends 

Lance gets an invitation to an old teammate’s place to ring in the new year but he finds himself too distracted by someone in particular to care about the ball dropping (vettel!reader)

November 21st: Jude Bellingham - Ugliest Sweater Wins

Jude is invited to Luka’s Christmas party, an ugly Christmas sweater party to be exact. It took a bit of convincing but you got him to go. 

November 23rd: Daniel Ricciardo - The Flash Of The Camera 

You enlist Daniel to help you with your Christmas gift for him. 

November 25th: John Stones - Black Out 

Your boyfriend blows a fuse with the Christmas lights and you’re stuck in the dark, but you find a way to make the best of it. 

November 26th: Fernando Alonso - Your Pick 

Fernando enlists the help of a certain someone to get his Christmas shopping done but the list is oddly familiar (pr officer!reader)  

November 28th: Kostas Tsimikas - The Smell Of The Holidays 

You over baked for your niece’s holiday bake sale so you do the neighbourly thing and share with your neighbour, Kostas and his two puppies.

November 30th: Toto Wolff - Winter Wonderland 

Your husband skips out on Christmas every year due to work but this year, he ends up in London. You make it your mission to introduce him to some holiday fun.

December 2nd: Christian Pulisic - Ho Ho Hoe

You find a pair of Christmas boxers in Christian’s drawers and decide to tease him about it. 

December 3rd: Mick Schumacher - Merry Ruff-mas 

Angie goes missing the day before Christmas and Mick finds her at the neighbouring ranch, wrapped up with ribbon and bows. 

December 5th: Jordan Henderson - Shivers

Jordan comes in after shovelling the driveway and keeps trying to love on you. You tell him that you can feel how cold he is but he makes sure to show you what cold really feels like. 

December 7th: Lewis Hamilton - Tis’ The Season 

An old friend finds his way to you front door and no matter how much you try to get rid of him, you can’t. 

December 9th: Dominik Szoboszlai - Come Home 

The two of you are separated over the holidays and you’re missing each other a little too much to keep this going. 

December 10th: Charles Leclerc - The Night Before Christmas 

A massive snow storm delays Charles’ flight home for the holidays and you both begin to give up hope but a Christmas miracle occurs.

December 12th: Virgil Van Dijk - Holiday Greetings 

You send your old friend a Christmas card every year and when he sees that a certain someone was no longer in the picture, he pays you a long overdue visit. 

December 14th: Mark Webber - A New Term 

You send your professor an email over the winter break and the man wonders why you’re still working, urging you to come out and relax like everyone else. (Professor!Webber) 

December 16th: Thiago Alcantara - Bubbles 

You find yourself aching from all the holiday prep and your husband being the good man that he was, makes sure you’re feeling okay after a long day. 

December 17th: Jenson Button - A Sandy Christmas 

Jenson takes you on a dream vacation over the holidays but still makes sure you’ve got a gift to open come Christmas morning. (Sugar Daddy!Jenson) 

December 19th: Kylian Mbappe - Family’s Growing 

Kylian finds himself swooning over how good you are with his niece and nephew, the thought of having a family with you spins around his head. 

December 21st: Carlos Sainz Jr - Traditions 

Coming back from Christmas with your family, the two of you return to Spain to celebrate new years with his family and all their traditions. 

December 23rd: Andy Robertson - Mistletoe Means Kisses 

The overpowering smell of mistletoe hits you when you walk into he house, your husband came up with his own plan while you were out. 

December 24th: George Russell - A New Tradition 

You and George spend your first Christmas together and you mash together the traditions from both of your families. 

December 26th: Jack Grealish - Always Around 

A wild new years night out leaves you bumping the same person over and over again. 

December 28th: Esteban Ocon - The Gift Of Giving 

Esteban takes a liking to the barista that works at the cafe near his place. He finally works up the courage to ask her out in time for the holidays. 

December 30th: Sergio Ramos - Secret Santa 

The players and the staff play secret Santa every year; they write a letter, toss in a box and everyone picks. Sergio some how lands on the person he’s always had a soft spot for. 

December 31st: Max Verstappen - Time Is Running Out 

Max wasn’t one for resolutions but as the clock counts down the hours to new years, he finds himself running to resolve the biggest resolution on his list; you. 

[persephonesbody]

the weekend: part i, elliot x reader

୨୧ the weekend masterlist synopsis: in which he's in a relationship but still has you wrapped around his finger... but only on the weekend warning(s): infidelity/cheating, angst, arguing, lying, implied makeup sex, delusion (reader is just like meeee lmao). author's note: you sayyy youuu got a girllll, how you want me? how you want me when you got a girlll?? let me know if you all would like a part two :) (edited as of 12.30.23) wc: 1.2k

"What's on your mind?" He asked, pulling your head out of your thoughts.

You caught yourself doing that a lot lately. Taking the time to step back and do some hardcore reflecting. It was apparent that the person that you were becoming was beginning to cause conflict in your life.

When you started fooling around with Elliot, it hadn't occurred to you that what you two were doing was wrong. He'd done such a good job at convincing you that your loyalty didn't lie with his girlfriend.

I mean, you two hardly knew each other. All you knew was that he quickly grew fond of the girl two weeks after he transferred to East Highland. About a month after that, they were dating. 

But Elliot was a liar. And a good one.

You met him at a party and caught him right in the middle of a personal smoke sesh. He asked you if you wanted to take a hit, and you obliged. Next thing you knew he was tonguing you down in a dimly lit bathroom, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

At that point, you had no clue about his relationship. That night led to steamy rendevous, and soon enough it became frequent. Every weekend, he would hit you up at midnight and then pick you up. What happened after that was unspeakable. 

That lasted about a month before you finally found out about her.

You overheard her and Maddy talk about their relationship, and you were vexed, to say the very least. Swearing up and down, when you confront Elliot about his secret relationship, you won't let up and cut him off for good.

You swore but didn't hold yourself to the swear. The minute he began to rest his case, he confided in you about how bored he was with his relationship and how he did like her but felt like he wasn't taking their relationship as seriously as she was. 

He promised that he was going to break up with her soon.

A smart person would just call him a liar and leave him alone... right?

Wrong. You fell for his lies and now here you were. Saturday night, tangled in his sheets while he smoked a joint and played tunes off of his guitar. 

"You." You responded.

He glanced up from his guitar to look at you, "Me?"

You nodded, your eyes moving from his to the nail you were picking, "You and... her."

You heard a deep sigh escape his lips, "I told you that I'm breaking up with her."

"You tell me a lot of things, Elliot."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Your eyes rolled, staring at his face, "It means that you tell me things that I'm supposed to believe, but I don't. Not anymore."

He's stuck. He's confused. He didn't think that you would bring this conversation up, as it was an unspoken rule between the two of you not to argue over his relationship.

Mostly because he didn't want to account for fiddling with two girls' emotions, all while trying to have his cake and eating it too.

But you were fed up. You wanted Elliot to yourself, and it was eating you up inside knowing that you only were allowed access to him on the weekends.

"Why won't you just break up with her? You say that you're not happy and that you're dissatisfied with your relationship yet you still stay with her. Why?"

The questions were coming up like word vomit. It was as if once you started, you couldn't stop. All the emotions that you had bottled up inside were starting to fizzle out, and you figured that now was the time to address his betrayal.

You didn't even realize that he was now standing up, inching closer to you and your face with his hand. His demeanor was nurturing and confused. It made you wonder what was about to come out of his mouth.

“Y/N, I love you. You know that,” he started, “I just… can’t be with you right now. I like what we’re doing. It’s simple.”

What the fuck?

Simple. That statement alone was enough to make your heart drop. 

He caressed your cheek and then placed a soft kiss on it. Then he turns away and heads to the bathroom.

What the fuck?????

All you could utter was “Are you serious?” which you meant to say in your head, but it blurted out with such disgust lacing your tone.

He ignored you and a moment later you heard his pee hit the water in the toilet. You roll your eyes again and inch near the bathroom door, awaiting his departure. The sink runs, assuming that he is washing his hands and then the door opens. 

For the life of you, you could not read the expression on his face. You wondered what was going on in his head and why he was treating you this way. You wondered so much to the point where that was the question that you blurted out.

“Treating you like what? I thought I made it clear what this was.” He gestures between the both of you, “We fuck on weekends. I don’t understand why you expected anything else out of me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re the one who proposed the idea of us fucking around. You’re the one who initiated this whole thing and promised me that you were going to break up with her. Don’t try to flip this shit on me.”

He plopped on the edge of his bed and you stood in front of him with your arms folded.

“I’m not flipping anything, sweetheart,” He smirked and chuckled, adding fuel to the fire, “I like it when you get all mad at me,” His hand reached for your hip and he pulled you into his lap, then placed soft kisses along your neck. 

You pushed your hands against his chest slightly, “Elliot stop. We’re having a conversation.”

He sighed, dropping his hands, “I’m sorry, it’s just I can’t continue this thing we have going on if we argue all the time. Now do you want to talk about my girlfriend or do what you came over to do…” his voice trailed off as his fingers went back to massaging your sides, then cupping your butt. 

He squeezed your cheek softly and stared at you with his low, red eyes and his lip between his teeth, waiting for you to respond, “Hmm? Do you still want to talk?”

Your lips parted, lingering for something to come out, yet nothing did. Instead, he leaned in and sucked on your bottom lip before kissing you deeply. 

This is how it went every time. You would ask him about her and he would avoid accountability by trapping you in his seductive web. It was like clockwork. And you always fell for it.

You couldn’t even feel sorry for yourself anymore, because you knew that he was going to continue to lie. 

At this point, you were fully aware of what you were getting into with him, and you were starting not to care. And at this point, you were willing to put everything on the line if it meant you still got to have a little piece of him on the weekend.

[i-cant-sing]

I was rereading some of your works and this line stuck out to me

‘Enji is keeping up with all your cravings, no matter how weird. You're craving ice chips? Alright. You want ice cream at 3 am? The fridge is stocked with your favs. Oh no, you want soft serve? Its okay, princess, I'll drive us there. I'm sure they'll open the store for the no. 1 hero.’

I immediately pictured him, banging on the front door of the shop, absolutely panicked because his “baby” is hungry for ice cream and is worried that she’ll cry because of pregnancy hormones

HAHAHAHAHA YESSSSSS and like u can't blame him??? He's already so protective of you as his daughter, but not that you're pregnant with Ratsuki's baby, his protectiveness increases ten folds. Who knows what that devil's spawn is doing to your poor body???? How much pain you're in because of Ratsuki's baby????

Ugh, he just- even if you tell him how excited you are to gave this baby, Enji just can't stop fretting over you because you're his baby! Always were, and always will be!

Yandere dad Enji with pregnant daughter reader is literally so cute because there is nothing that will stop this man from making sure that you are healthy and comfortable and yes, he will still hold you whenever you're feeling down, baby bump or not, you weigh nothing to him🥰

You're feeling emotional and end up calling Enji (instead of Katsuki cause he's busy with work) and he hears a wobble in your voice? BAm, papa is at your door step in 10 minutes with ice cream and snacks and warm cuddles. Feel free to bitch about Katsuki to him (actually dont, he will kill him)

Ever since you got married and moved in with Katsuki, Enji had been missing your company. And once you had returned from your honeymoon and visited him, he realised just how terribly he missed you. So of course he grabs any opportunity to spend time with you. Baby checkup? Okay, papa Enji is coming to pick you up. Grocery shopping? How odd that he's also out of groceries. Cmon, lets shop together, and maybe some cute (SUPER EXPENSIVE, LUXURY BRANDED) maternity and baby clothes to spoil you. Nothing to do at home? Well, you can always help out dad at his work! Enji's sending a car to drive you to his company 🥰 And its like, even if you do have plans with Katsuki, Enji will pull some strings to make sure that Katsuki gets stuck at work while you sulk at home, awaiting your husband. But Enji will come to console you, cry on his shoulder baby. Sometimes, Enji will drop by unannounced, especially if he finds out that you're spending the weekend with Katsuki's parents. He'll be bringing in a boquet, kissing you on the cheek, before wrapping his coat around you, telling you that you must come home with him right away. And you're all like "??? Dad! I'm here with my in laws. I cant just up and leave-!" And he pulls the big sad eyes and says "Its Rei." and you automatically sigh and nod before going to apologise to Kats parents for cancelling your plans with them, claiming there's a "family emergency", which isnt a lie because yandere Rei is an EMERGENCY at all times. Its just, you've always known your mother's mental health was detoriating, but the rate at which it detoriated increased ten folds when you moved out. She's always been protective of you, because of all the trauma and because you're her youngest, so of course... she took it the hardest when you left her side to be with Katsuki. And before your marriage, you swore to your father that you'll always be there to help him with Mom, whenever needed, no questions asked. Its the only reason Enji gave you his blessing marry RATsuki. So whenever he misses you too much, he tells you that Rei is having another "episode" where she's screaming your name, crying that someone took you away and is hurting you, is resorting to harming herself, etc. And sometimes Rei does have these epiosdes, other times she doesnt, but it doesnt matter to either of them because if they want u home, you will come. And as soon as Enji has brought you to the Todoroki estate, your're running (or waddling) inside, immeadiately engulfed by your mother who will now proceed to coddle you and fret over you non stop for the next couple of days (spoon feeding you her food, brushing your hair until you dose off, rubbing your baby bump while humming lullabies. Enji's having the best time too becuase he gets to tuck you in at night and wake u in the morning and have more daddy-daughter ice cream dates with yall) until she's better or... well, your husbands comes to fetch you.

And Rat- KATSUKI, sees through all their BULLSHIT! But you dont and thats why he cant call them out on it. Thats why he must be the more patient one between him and your greedy parents.

[copperpaulie]

- I want to kiss your lips!

Please read!

Softie!Abby Anderson x fem!reader - Modern Au, Comedic, fluff

Word count: 1k

You and Abby now enter a serious relationship, after months of Abby courting you- it was all worth it the moment you held her hand and professed your hidden love for her under the fireworks on Christmas Eve, Abby was shocked to even hear that! And so, both of you spent the evening, fingers interlocking never wanting to drop her hand. Romantic, isn't it? after that, everything has been steady. Cuddling during romcoms, and dinner dates-- you both have already gone through the "meet with parents" stage! Your relationship with each other has been all but a breeze.

While you ponder at your desk, a question drops from your train of thought...

Both of you only kissed once! wtf! You abruptly leave your seat, mouth agape, and hurriedly count your fingers

'one... two...'

THREE FREAKING MONTHS!? AND NOT A SINGLE TOUCH ON THE LIP!?

You don't know whether to laugh or cry. Sure, you pecked each other's cheeks once, and she does forehead kisses sometimes, but nothing more than that! Sure, you could go with the flow and wait for the moment to bloom... but still, both of you should be glueing each other's lips by now!!

or... maybe you're being too needy, this is your first relationship after all. 'Am I being needy?'

maybe! ... I actually don't know, I'm only writing this.

You groan in frustration and plop yourself back down to your chair, and suddenly a knock was heard at your door.

"_? you there?"

Oh crap, you forgot Abby said she mentioned staying over your dorm on the weekend.

"Just... a minute!" You yell as you groom your hair, and put a bit of chapstick on before you open the door. You see her in her iconic braid, white polo shirt, and earth-green cargo pants. And all you put on the table are just pajamas... But unbeknownst to you, this made Abby's heart tingle.

"Sorry for making you wait! um... chores!"

Abby chuckles and ruffles your hair, her lips forming a smile as she stares at you, "You do remember that I'm coming over today, right?"

"Oh! AHAHAHAHA-" you burst out while repeatedly patting Abby's shoulder, "...no."

"Ah," Your sweetheart replies, her eyes almost drooping down before she lifts herself up. "Well, are you busy?"

"NO!"

You cough, "I mean, no... not busy, completely free even!"

She takes a while to process your expressions, which is... not so like you, and her state looks as if her tail droops down.

"I feel I'm bothering you..."

"No, no! You cry out, sorry- I was just pondering about something and got completely startled.", Your eyes pan over hers, "Are you... angry?"

Abby sighs and smiles gingerly. Leaning down at you, she places her love on your forehead and shakes her head, "Of course not, just wanted to make sure I wasn't hindering your plans."

A smile tugs your lips, and your hand extends as you reach for hers, inviting her inside.

"So, what's your game plan, Anderson?" She chuckles and raises the hand you held, her lips tenderly brushing on your knuckles, making your cheeks warm and flushed.

"I was thinking... we watch the new 'savage starlight' franchise."

Your eyes light up at the news, "There's a new movie!?"

"Yes! Abby chuckles, I bought it on my netfl*x account."

"Wow, look at you- so updated, and here I thought you were so focused on your studies." You say, a brow jerked up and your mouth tugged to a smirk. Abby looks up above, avoiding any gaze, "Um... I just stumbled upon it, I swear!"

You let out a hearty laugh and pinch her pale freckled cheeks. She closes her eyes in response. "Ow"

"That's what you deserve!"

☆-☆-☆-☆ "Uhm." Abby blurts, prolonging the letter m for at least 3 seconds. "Oh..!" You respond, your tone as if you're almost gonna burst out from laughing.

It seems like, Abby 'Let's watch the new franchise' Anderson bought the wrong movie, and now both of you are stuck on thinking about doing anything fun. "We can play... board games?" You say, patting yourself on the shoulder in your silly head. "Definitely, we should do that."

so you did, but playing 'Mon*poly' with only two people can start to get... draggy. Abby jumps, pointing at the board with her face completely lighting up. "You landed on my train station!"

"Oh come on! I'm absolutely broke!"

Abby slyly slips a "You could sell one of your properties to me" in her mouth, making you feel as if you just popped a vein. "Can I at least pay with a different method!?"

"You can kiss me."

oh.

oh...

oh!

"Sure" You smile, catching her a little off guard.

She leans slightly forward, and you do the same. Abby almost lands her lips on your cheek till you avoid it by looking just straight through her soul.

'huh?' Abby thinks to herself.

She attempts to place a peck on your forehead and you do the same thing again.

Another attempt on your right cheek, you face her, again.

'!?' This time, Abby's extremely confused.

"Do you... not want to kiss me?" She mutters, her eyes almost teary. "What!?" Your eyes widen in shock, your face flushing with embarrassment. "No," you attempt to defend yourself, although you already see tears streaming down Abby's face. "Am I disgusting...?"

It feels like your throat refuses to let out any sound, processing the most unbelievable view you have ever seen. Without a word, you express yourself through action, hand cupping her face, and leaning in to kiss her lips. Abby's eyes widen in surprise before she melts into the moment, kissing you back with a little intensity going on with it.

before you let the moment go too deep, you push her away, making a weird 'pop' sound.

You take in the features before you, and you laugh. "Abby, you look like a pufferfish right now."

"You too," She smiles gingerly, her palm landing in yours.

And you spend the rest of the moment, giggling. Lost in the touch of each other's warmth. <3

[sky-is-the-limit]

+18/ AFAB!reader x Captain John Price.

Disclaimer: I'm not a writer, if you are, feel free to write this!

If there's one manspreader amongst the CoD characters, that is Captain John Price and I take no other answers. This man walks like it's heavy, the confidence that he oozes? The years of experience? I don't care what big masked man you have in mind, the second Price walks into a room, everyone shuts the fuck up and waits for him to talk first.

///

Even the sight of him makes your thighs press together in a failed attempt to calm yourself down, feeling your folds soak up, the new pair of undies that you picked this morning already ruined to solely the sound of his voice.

You can't help but wonder if he knows or if he at least suspects the undeniable attraction you feel for him, everyone else sees it. The curious looks you get every time they all leave the room but you always have to stay behind, confirm it. Sometimes you feel like it's mutual, the way he always asks for you to stay a little longer so you can go over the paperwork together, wanting to know how your weekend was.

He always wants to know the details, could it be the sound of your voice or curiosity eating him alive that you could have someone waiting for you when you're not wearing this uniform. It has come to the point where it's unbearable to even be so close to him. Whenever he hands you over the documents, his fingers lingering a bit longer as they touch yours, eyes observing you closely, trailing from your eyes to your neckline and back.

He has to know, right? Is it your desperate delusions or the fact that he asks for you to read out loud the last reports so you stay a little longer with him. It could be loneliness, you know how a man like him gets to spend most of his nights, alone in the cold room here at the base or getting drunk at the nearest pub, watching people come and go yet never building up the courage to leave with someone. Why is it always you he asks for? If it's just a dumb coincidence that your mind turns into suspicion, why is it always your name coming out of his lips like a desperate need?

Maybe it's the way he purposely asks of you to repeat the same sentence, sometimes twice cause he knows that you'll obey no questions asked. No matter how many reports you have learned by heart at this point cause you know you have his undivided attention, eyes stuck on your lips as meaningless words come out of it, only unspoken desires between the two of you.

The way he sits on that wooden chair, his muscular thighs open wide as he leans back, arms crossed over he chest like he has zero responsibilities in the world, nothing else that matters other than you in that moment. Is it your imagination or does he always pull the chair far away from the desk so you can have the full picture? He's not the most expressive man when it comes to his personal feelings, especially when dealing with someone under his command but the way his stoic manner shifts when he catches your eyes linger a little longer on his thighs.. That's when it changes.

That's when he knows he's fully in control. That a single word from his lips could make you do all the inappropriate thoughts clouding up his mind every time you stand in front of him. He has to know.

"Come closer private, you're barely just mumbling and I can't hear a damn thing." Excuses. Your voice is loud and clear. It's like the cat playing with the mouse, a predator messing with it's prey before it grabs it between it's teeth and swallows it whole. John Price is a patient man. With every mission, every colleague, every obstacle in his way. He knows how to form the best strategy, how to win the enemy, how to complete a mission but right now his well-known patience is running thin.

You can tell from the way his lip part when you nod to his overused command, never asking why, never complaining or even daring to raise your gaze to meet his. Pure submission to his every instruction that makes his imagination run wild. The way his fingers tightly grip onto his biceps when you step closer to his desk, barely blinking like he doesn't want to miss a second from the way your hips sway, your teeth sinking down onto your bottom lip as you hesitantly approach him. Yeah he's a patient man but not a saint.

"Again, private." A slight smirk forms onto his lips when he asks you once again to repeat the last sentence you were reading out. God, it must be a pathetic sight, the way you would never accept this type of sadistic behavior from anyone else but would spend hours and hours repeating the same words if it meant that you'd feel his presence so close.

The smell of his cologne mixed with the scent of smoke intoxicating your brain as you take a moment to take it all in. How would he react if he knew that this familiar scent is your only companion at night when you lay naked in your bed, fingers caressing your clit softly while thinking intensely of your Captain. How his repetitive commands obtain a different meaning when you bring your other hand up to your mouth, sucking on your own fingers before trailing them down to your nipples, feeling the sensation taking over your body while his voice is playing over and over again in your head. "Again, private." Wishing it was his fingers slowly making their way down to your entrance, covered in the outcome of his bare existence. "Again, again, again."

"Eyes up here, sweetheart." Fuck. The recall of your lonely memories cut short as you come back to reality, blinking a few times before you realise that your eyes were stuck on his thighs the entire time. You slowly gulp the saliva that gathered into your mouth from your filthy thoughts, hesitantly trailing your eyes back to meet his. You feel your skin on fire, the blood rushing up to your cheeks as your heart is pounding rapidly in your chest. If it was anyone else, you'd feel ashamed, embarrassed that you were caught staring so desperately at your superior but not him. Not to the sight in front of you.

His head is titled to the side, his form unchanged as if he was waiting for this to happen, waiting for when your eyes would finally drift from that unimportant paper to him. The gaze of a touched starved man who has finally run out of patience making you freeze into place. The prey was finally caught and.. Oh, he definitely knows.

[luveline]

Hiiii, Jade <3 How are you? Could you please write a single dad!au for Spencer? Pretty please, with a cherry on top :*

hi! I'm okay thanks so much, and ty for your request! I hope you like it ♥︎ single!dad spencer x fem!bau!reader

Amanda is, as you'd expect, a very small version of her father but without the photographic memory. She is a happy, lovely, caring sweetheart of a child, and everytime you see her, you think you might like to marry her dad. 

There's something to be said for the heart of a parent. You look at Amanda and it amplifies every bit of Spencer's goodness, especially now when she's napping in Spencer's lap at his desk in the bullpen, completely at ease. He has one hand behind her back and the other stretched over to his desk.

"You know," Emily whispers, leaning against your desk with two hot cups of coffee, "he told me why he named her Amanda. It might kill you." 

You take one of the coffees. "Thank you… Do I wanna know?" 

Your crush on Spencer is common knowledge for everybody except him: he's a genius in everything beside social relationships. 

"Amanda," Emily says quietly, "I don't remember the Latin word he definitely told us it's derived from, but I do remember what it meant. 'To be loved,' and 'Worthy, of love.'" She raises her eyebrows at you. "He said he wanted there to be no mistake. That she was loved from the beginning, and she always will be." 

"Oh no," you say. 

"Yeah." 

"Are you kidding?" you ask. 

Emily laughs as you cover your face with both hands, long sleeves pulled over your fingers. You hide away from the world and Spencer and his tiny pretty daughter and pray you'll be swallowed up by your uncomfortable chair. 

"You'll be okay," Emily says. "Drink your coffee. Only six hours 'til we get to go home." 

"I don't even really want coffee," you mumble, lips against the rim of your cup. 

She pats your shoulder. You return to your work but absolutely can't focus. Ever since you started your job here at the bureau you've had the world's worst, most ridiculous crush on Spencer. There are a myriad of reasons why but the most important is that he talks to you. Everyday, all the time, he talks about things you'd never even heard of before, and he talks about the weather. He knows more about you than most people know and he shows it so subtly. 

He links trade routes back to your favourite treats, because this boat got stuck in this place so there's going to be a short supply but he knows where you can get some and he can get them for you the next time he goes. He read this book lately by an author you'd definitely hate, but she talked about a different article Spencer thinks you'd love, so he forwarded it to your email last night. He and Amanda went to Niagara Falls last weekend — here's a mug with a rainbow waterfall on the side because he noticed your old coffee mug has a chip in the lip. 

You scratch down a phone number wrong three times in a row and feel your eyes closing of their own accord. He makes it hard to think. 

"Hi, Miss Y/N." 

You look up from your things to find Amanda waiting still as a post by your chair. 

"Hi, beautiful," you say. You look over her shoulder for Spencer and find nothing but files and computers and the click-click-clicking of twenty computers. "Dad's in the bathroom, huh?" 

"Mm-hm." 

"You want me to drag his chair for you?" 

She shakes her head and rushes back to Spencer's chair, pulling it with her back to your desk. She struggles up into the chair and you pull her in, her shiny black shoes rubbing against your knee. 

"Sorry," she says. 

"No, that's okay, you don't have anything to be sorry for. These are nice shoes, baby, I think your dad's been spoiling you again." 

"He says they make me walk faster," she tells you, "'cos they have ergo-domic shapes." 

"Oh wow! You look amazing, you always dress so smart." You smile at her gently. "You want some dried fruit? I have mango, pineapple and apricot. Or I have a normal orange with all the juice," you offer. 

She nods. You have no clue what she's nodding for so you give her the dried fruits and the orange and smile to yourself when she says a breathy thank you. She can eat all your snacks. You'd offer your moon cake if you weren't worried about her being allowed. Fruit is a safe bet. 

She sits happily eating fruit for a while. You try to poke some light conversation out of her, how's school and how's their pet fish Mr. Banana, and is it fun to be at work with dad today? 

"Hi." 

You bite your own tongue. Amanda doesn't acknowledge her father beyond her head dipping back in wait of his hand. Sure enough, he reaches over the back of the chair and strokes her baby blonde curls, brown towards the ends. You imagine they'll be the same warm brown as his when she's older. 

"Hey, Spencer," you say, crossing your hands over your tummy. 

"Is everything okay?" 

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be?" 

You're lying. He's a profiler. You both know both of those facts. 

He squints at you playfully. "You should tell me if something's wrong." 

"Dad," Amanda interrupts, "we have to… have to give people space." She offers him the dried fruit bag. "To tell us in their own time." 

Despite the clumsy, adorable way that she says it, she has a point. Spencer bites back a smile, properly chastised, and takes the bag. 

"What is this?" he asks. 

"Sorry," you jump in, "I should've asked you first, I just didn't," —you lower your voice— "really know what to do. I'm not bad with kids. I'm, uh, not good with them, either, maybe." 

"You're great with kids," he says. "Having a baby is complicated, but taking care of them once they get to Manda's age is easier. She just needs love and patience and regular feeding. You're one of the most loving people I know, and your patience is appropriate. And, you know." He passes back your bag of dried fruit. "You always have snacks in your desk." 

His easy compliments warm your face. You cover your cheeks with your sleeves.

"Dad, you made her happy," Amanda says, pleased. 

Spencer laughs and the sound lights you up from the inside out, reaching over the chair to lift Amanda into his arms. He pushes his hand into the small of her back and straightens out the skirt of her red dress. If you'd been paying attention, you'd notice the slight pink tint of a blush working over his ears and cheeks. 

"Aw, Mands," he murmurs, "we really have to work on your context clues."