#smth bad happened? i will be your shoulder to lean on or an ear to listen

[emperorsfortune]

i struggle to communicate with mutuals but 99.99999% of the time my thoughts are like that one option on that poll the zero escape creator put where it was just “im always on your side”

[onlyseokmins]

size matters • l.c.

Pairing: lee chan x afab!reader Genres: major smut (minors PLS dni!), losers + idiots + besties to lovers Warnings: *deep breath* MONSTER COCK CHAN, swearing, love me some switch action, reader does not use specified pronouns but refers to their pussy as "she", reader also wears a skirt, pet names, alcohol and goofy drunk antics, bad humor, use of "whore/slut", tons of dirty talk, they're kinda pervs, mentions of toys, masturbation (fem), hints to past sexual partners, mentions of oral (male), actual oral (fem. receiving), car sex (kind of), condoms, fingering (fem. receiving), WAP lmao and squirting, bantering, degradation, wee bit praise, unprotected/protected MESSY sex, underwear play (??? lmao), precum play (??), edging, face-riding, groping/manhandling, objectification, reverse cowgirl position, bulge kink, slapping/spanking, possession, almost choking, biting, tears and crying, a bit of overstim and if i missed smth lmk sdfjkajdf WC: 8.3k A/N: this started out purely self-indulgent as usual and reads like a bad pornhwa but it's also nana month so a happy early birthday to @bitchlessdino because i will be asleep when the clock actually strikes 12 tomorrow! and bc i will dedicate all chan content to the loml! this is like my 3rd longest fic on this blog and 4th longest fic ever and it's just utter filth and smut... hate it here. i always get into a crazy headspace when i write for this man. i hope y'all enjoy my delusions before i retire out of shame 😬

"I'm worried my dick's too big."

Laughter bubbles in your chest at the same time the beer you'd just taken a swig of swishes around in your mouth. It's so like your best friend to say something stupid. Especially when your mouth is full.

He frowns in mild annoyance as you rock back and forth with mirth, struggling not to spit out your drink and make a mess. But also trying to refrain from choking. Because if you die, you sure as hell will find a way to make sure everyone knows that a dumbo and his terrible concern over having a big cock drove you to your demise in such an unfortunate manner.

And no one wants that.

"I dunno what's so funny," the man in question irritably gripes, "but for god's sake, calm down and swallow."

Though it ends up that Chan is the one gulping first. Ears burning and eyes widening when you wiggle your brows deviously and do as he says. Sticking your tongue out for good measure — just for proof that yes, you did swallow —  but he's quickly whipping his gaze away. Head turning to the side as if that does anything to hide the embarrassing look overtaking his expression. 

He thinks you'll back off, hoping the nervous twiddling of his fingers will deter further teasing. But he should really know better. The telltale signs are littered across the table in front of him and even overpower your usual sweet scent when you lean close into his personal space.

"So, you like it when someone swallows versus spits for you, Channie?"

"You're drunk."

"So are you." 

Because that's what happens every movie night. The two of you enjoy too many beers after a feel-good show and start talking nonsense.

"Yeah, and we're having a very serious conversation right now. A drunk one. But still, serious."

You purse your lips. "You're bluffing. No way you're complaining about the hugeness of your dick. 'Cause no one does that."

"It's not like I'm trying to boast or even insecure, I'm just worried."

"Worried about what?" you snort and push at his shoulder. "There'd be no reason to worry if you know how to use it. In the end, size doesn't matter at all."

Chan quirks an eyebrow, side-eyeing you. "At all?" 

"If your technique is good, it shouldn't matter as long as everyone feels satisfied. You know, you just gotta hit that one spot…" 

You start doing hand motions to demonstrate your point that seem wildly inappropriate and are honestly so drunkenly uncoordinated to the point that Chan not only feels compelled to stop you but doubts anyone would feel good from that. Then again, he's never really managed to partake in sloppy sex, so who knows? 

He grabs your hands to still them and though you no longer move, you protest. "What? You'll have 'em seeing and feeling stars! To be honest… you prolly will too if ya try your best."

"You know, I do know how to pleasure someone. It's not really an issue once I'm inside, it's just getting there that's kind of a problem."

"Channie, are you secretly a virgin?" You lay your head on his shoulder, hand running down his forearm and weaving your fingers between his. "Issokay if you are."

"You know I'm not!"

"Well, yeah I guess you're a bit of a whore. Still love you no matter what."

Chan chokes out your name in frustration. "All I'm saying is that I have a huge cock and I'm sad about it!"

"And you keep saying I'm drunk. Look, you're valid in being… upset about having a fat dick even if I don't understand. Just telling you that sometimes a ton of prep is helpful and even a decent amount of lube. No shame in that. Not everyone's built to take a large-ass, whopping cock." And then you mumble extremely quietly, "If it's even that big."

Unfortunately, he hears you and scoffs. Popping his shoulder up to gently shove you off him. Though that only causes you to grasp for his sweatpant-clad thigh and hold onto it for dear support in your half-drunken stupor. The perverted part of both your brains flash to your hand squeezing tightly around something else; the unmistakable heat of said something else radiating towards the closest part of your hand and causing a hot rush to flare across your entire body.

Or maybe that's just the alcohol.

Doesn't stop you from shamelessly ogling what you can only presume to be his bulge, gray fabric stretched over his groin and straining against muscular thighs. 

"Are you flaccid right now?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just curious. Thinking about my different dildo sizes."

He balks at that. "Pl-please don't."

"Yeah, not sure I wanna compare what your dick would realistically feel inside me," you admit even if you find it difficult to tear your hungry eyes away to take in Chan's mortified expression. 

"Can we stop talking about my personal parts now?" he squeaks out and you shoot him a dubious side-eye even though you do easily acquiesce.

"With pleasure. Speaking of which…"

Chan's hushed groan of "Oh dear" goes ignored even after you drape an arm on the back of the couch behind his head, lay the other across his chest, and splay your legs over his lap. Your lips end up leaving a sticky residue on his cheek, neck, and ear as you graciously whisper your own sex secret — the spontaneous topic of tonight — to him. 

"Only my bullet vibe has the ability to make me squirt. None of the others, not even the thirteen-inch one with suction ridges. So yeah, hm… size doesn't matter, does it Channie?"

"Well, those are toys and uh… my big dick is simply what it is. A big, regular human dick. Nothing fancy."

"Then you should try harder."

He apologizes for having such blatant ignorance about the matter and then eventually you end up falling asleep together. 

Limbs tangled and wrapped around one another just like every other night you doze off with the comfort of the other's body warmth. And like usual, you and Chan peer at each other with eyelids heavy from sleep and goofy but comforting smiles — merely inches apart when the sun's rays sneak a peek through the blinds to shine onto your faces. Because everything's normal and just right between the two of you. 

Like always.

Except it's not.

All you can think about is your best friend's dumb, gargantuan cock and his weird embarrassment about it. If you didn't know Chan as well as you do, you might think he was just using that as an excuse to get into your pants but you know better. He's genuinely perturbed over his too-big dick! 

You let out a sigh. Warm breath fans the tip of your ear while large hands lay on your hips, ringed fingers teasing the bare skin revealed by the daring crop top you decided to wear tonight.

"Am I boring you, baby?"

"Kind of," you admit, displeased that you weren't enjoying the usual thrill of grinding on the dancefloor with a hot man. Turning around to face said man, you purse your lips. "How would you feel if you had a big dick, Cheol?"

He raises an eyebrow in the self-assured way only the Choi Seungcheol can. "Shouldn't you be asking what it's like possessing the largest dick of the century?"

"Not helping, I'm not talking about big dick energy."

"That's not what you said when it was shoved halfway down your throat."

"Can't say much if I'm sucking someone off, you dolt. And I said you made my jaw hurt 'cause you're a guy that likes it rough, not 'cause I thought your dick was overly huge."

"Brat," Seungcheol says rather affectionately, "so whose humongous cock are you taking tonight?"

Your eyes wander over his shoulder to the bar, the same place he noticed your gaze strayed towards all night. A glee-filled smirk is on your face when you meet his eyes again though you only casually state with a shrug, "An absolute loser's."

"Wasn't aware it was self-pleasure night, sweetheart," he jokingly snorts, nudging you in that direction before you can get too mad at him. But not without delivering a playful slap on your ass as a 'good luck to charm' to send you on your way. "Go get 'em, Tiger!"

The cocky bastard must think you're after Soonyoung tonight, who greets you by placing a polite kiss on the cheek and a casual side hug. Though he looks hella fine tonight with slicked-back hair and donning the signature head-turning 'leather jacket, silver jewelry' fit that Seungcheol is sporting, he's not who you have in mind.

You squeeze him back though, always ready to return the affection you receive. "Rare to not see you dancing, tough crowd tonight?"

"Nah, I just have my priorities set." He angles his head toward the bartender who sneaks subtle glances at the two of you as if to distinguish what intentions you had approaching such a striking man. 

That they just so happen to have their eyes on. Luckily Soonyoung does too.

"Ah, well, so do I!" 

Never one to want to get stuck between two people and cause a potential misunderstanding, you pat him on the arm, wink encouragingly at the bartender, and skip away to find the person who's been occupying your mind for the past few days in a very different way like crazy.

Chan hasn't moved from where you last caught sight of him — in the corner of the bar nursing the same glass of bourbon for far too long. There's distinctly more water in it from the rapidly melting ice ball than alcohol but you still ease it out of his grasp. Taking a sip only to wrinkle your nose in disgust.

Your best friend observes your expression with a bemused one of his own after you hand it back, lip gloss staining the rim. A far cry from the darkened, sultry stare that followed as you moved from one gyrating body to the next. You wonder how you've never noticed it before. But then again, you yourself have never thought about him in that kind of way until now. 

While momentarily lost in your thoughts, Chan's working on getting the attention of Soonyoung's flirt target to order your favorite drink. But you place a hand on his arm, squeezing the firm muscle beneath your fingertips. 

"I wanna go home."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just feel like leaving."

He shakes his head. "You looked like you were having a good time."

"Ooh… are you jealous?"

"Hah, jealous? No. Concerned that someone did something you didn't like? Yeah."

"There will be," you tug him by the open collar of the flannel he's wearing so you're nose-to-nose, "if he doesn't take me back to his place right now."

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening as they drop down to the pouty curve of your lips. You swear he even peers at your cleavage with the tiniest of squints before finishing what little bit of liquor is left, standing, and pulling you along with him outside.

Walking to his car parked by the sidewalk is truly a breath of fresh air, the chill of the evening breeze and city noises rushing by helps bring Chan back down to earth. No longer on the crazy high fueled by the hypnotic, seductive thrall of the nightclub's booming bass that adds to him being wholly entranced by your teasing allure. 

Now it's just you and him. Simple as usual, getting ready to drive around.

"You want to go to my place?"

"Yeah."

He starts the engine, checking the side mirror to estimate when there will be an available opening to pull out. "Whaddya wanna do, stop somewhere for snacks?"

"Sure. Maybe condoms too."

"I'm sorry, what?" It's a good thing the car's still in park when his foot stomps on the gas pedal out of shock, revving the engine and making you both jump. "Why?"

Chan even goes as far as to steal a glance over his shoulder at the backseat. As if you had miraculously snuck in someone from the club that you were planning to fuck and he didn't know about it. 

There's no one there, of course.

"Why… are we picking up… condoms?" he repeats. "I um, I have a bunch of unopened boxes i-if you need them."

"You do? Good."

"Uh, can you at least let me know how many are used so I don't suddenly run out?"

Your eyebrows raise though he doesn't even dare look at you. "Do you think you'll cum that much?"

"Pardon?! N-no, I only have a surplus because I bought them in bulk!"

"I thought you weren't having sex a lot because you have such a big cock. One that rarely goes inside anyone."

His hands cover his face. "I'm saying it's fine if you want to use them!"

"Gee, thanks. You want me to make condom balloon animals or something?"

One brown eye glares at you between fingers. "… If you're into that."

"I bet extra large ones would make brilliant animal balloons but that's a sad waste when they could go around a dick instead. I mean it can't be easy for you to find ones that don't break. Whatever, at least you have a ton. And as you know I'm on the pill."

He has to know. He has to ask. "Are you confused or is it just me?"

"Clearly, because I don't know why you think I'd be into filling condoms with air and not cock."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but — I mean like there's no way — but are you implying that you want to… you know, with me…?"

"Whaddya mean 'no way'? Fuck yeah, I wanna fuck you! Sorry, was that not clear?" 

Chan chokes on his saliva and has a brief hacking fit. "No?!" 

"Damn, uh… my bad. Sorry, I thought it was super obvious. Simply put, I can't get the thought of you out of my mind or my pussy, so yeah. We should totally bang. Have sex and all that. Only if you want to obviously. No hard feelings if not."

Oh god, yes he does. Since he now knows that you can squirt, let alone with something as small as a little bullet vibrator, all he can think about is what would happen if he teased your cunt with the thick head of his cock. It's been driving him absolutely feral and fueled a rather ugly feeling when he saw Seungcheol all over you earlier. 

But now that he knows you want him? Maybe just as much as he wants you? Explicitly? 

He starts driving in an attempt to help collect himself. You're at ease, able to read him well and know he'll need some time to process and organize his thoughts. So, you wait in silence while he does just that, and when he speaks again his voice is low, laced with utter desire.

"You've been thinking about me?"

"Uh-huh."

"Your pussy has too?"

"Mhm, Channie… she's been crying for you like crazy."

"Fuck," he mutters and grips the steering wheel tightly to avoid swerving into the berm. He rasps out in a desperate beg, "C-can you touch yourself for me? Let me hear how loud she is?"

And you sweetly oblige with a hushed, "Of course," and can't lift your miniskirt up faster than you do now, pushing the drenched thong underneath to the side. Your clit's been buzzing nonstop ever since he whined about his big cock and you got to glimpse the outline of it. And with him now sitting beside you as your thumb rubs at the tiny nub, pointer fingers dipping in and out of your clenching hole, you both let out groans — you at the thrilling sensation and him at the insanely filthy sounds.

Chan steals a moment to take in the sight when he switches lanes, loving the way your tongue lolls past glossy lips that part to release little whimpers of pleasure. It's unlikely you'll squirt right now. But there's still a slick sheen of arousal glistening on your thighs so he holds onto the sick twist of hope that a trace will be left behind. He's pleased and licks his lips but has to swiftly pay attention to the road again, especially when your head rolls to the side, eyelashes pleadingly fluttering at him.

He needs to get home fast. Now.

The car fills with the sloppy noises of you playing with your cunt which grows wetter and wetter by the second. The air is heavy and oozes sex, the compact space growing more humid as you work and rile up your pussy, yourself, and the man beside you. You keep easing up to that delicious edge but never fully dipping over it, making sure to continue growing needier and more wanton until the blurry scenery rushing past the windows half-registers as familiar in your already fucked-out state of mind.

"Wanna get a feel of your cock," you whine out with no shame at how pitiful it sounds. "Gotta know how many fingers to stuff inside to stretch myself out for the real thing."

The way he spits out your name like a curse word makes your gummy walls contract tightly, emitting a moist suctioning sound when you pull your fingers out and bully them back in. 

"No. You have to wait."

"Don't wanna! Been waiting long enough."

"So fuckin' needy," he taunts as if he's not panting heavily with his fingers drumming against the steering wheel. "I don't think they'll come even close to opening up that tiny hole of yours effectively for my dick. But size doesn't matter, so whatever. Right, sweetheart?"

You cuss him out jokingly while working knuckle-deep inside your cunt. Humping against your palm and pulling at your nipples with the other hand underneath your top when he rolls to a stop at an empty four-way in the neighborhood. 

He swats your arm out and away, curiously sweeping his own fingers across your damp folds that flinch at the sudden contact but still mourn the devastating loss of being filled before he slaps at them. Chan grins like a total heathen at the way your hips jolt upon impact, growing more and more delirious at the way droplets of your arousal splash out at the action.

"If you cum by rubbing yourself on that seat — no hands — before I pull in the driveway, I'll let you touch me to mentally prep yourself before we get inside. Before I get inside you." His words are enunciated with a smirk that drops after bringing soaked fingers to his lips — eyelids fluttering with a grunt at your taste eagerly licked clean with his tongue. "God, do you know how delicious you are? Need you to sit on my face at some point, wanna drown in that sloppy pussy."

His dirty talk could be enough to finish you off, you belatedly realize. The earlier command to rut your aching clit against the scratchy fabric to soothe it makes you thrillingly feel like a depraved whore. 

"You're a fuckin' perv, Chan," you growl out as if you aren't doing exactly what he asked on instinct and loving how he's talking to you. How good he is at making you feel divine.

"Yeah? But I want something to remember this by."

"Sick," you snarl through gritted teeth like the knowledge of him thinking about this moment every time he gets in his car and looks at the passenger seat isn't getting you off even more. Bonus points if he jerks off to it. You act like it's not the catalyst to you coming undone, blaming it fully on the bump of the asphalt connecting to the concrete driveway hitting your hard nub just right — absolutely defiling his poor car with your arousal. "Sick in the head."

Neither one of you care. 

In fact, Chan's so pleased he ignores the words you both know you don't mean. Grabbing the hand you buried deep within your hole, but then chose to use it to grip at the console while following his command, and guides it to his mouth. Happily repeating the same thing he did to his own, maintaining eye contact as he tongues at your fingertips. Pupils dilating with how addicted he's become to your taste. Growing more and more eager to have it straight from the source in the very near future. 

Then he places your spit-coated fingers where his cock strains against dark jeans. A darker, damp spot on the denim signifies how much precum the tip is leaking, begging to be released. He squeezes the hand sandwiched between his and the hardening length, shallowly thrusting up into your palm so you can completely grope at its mouth-watering, jaw-aching girth. 

"Feel that?" he goads, "that's gonna have to fit inside your tight cunt."

Your eyes nearly cross at the realization. And of course, your pussy forlornly clenches around nothing, dripping out more arousal to add to the already soiled mess beneath you. 

Oh, you cannot wait.

He wasn't lying, positive every single finger stuffing your hole couldn't compare to the size you just felt beneath those very appendages. Tears collect at your lash line, already anticipating the sheer amount of pleasure you know you'll be feeling with a very warm and real dick. And he's not even anywhere inside of you yet!

Chan coos and wipes the tear that escapes to your cheek. Then he gets out of the car and comes around to the other side to help you walk since your legs are weak and shaking — for more than one reason. That's fine because it gives him almost a weird sense of pride and an excuse to grind and grope at you as he pleases while unlocking the front door. Surprisingly, both of you are giggling together as if you're naughty teens again, always up to no good. It feels strangely wholesome, a light sense of relief blooming and filling your entire body.

Until you're on the other side of the door and those feelings morph back into something carnal. More primal. And Chan must feel it too because you swear he growls when pinning you against the wall. 

"You'll let me eat you out, right? 'Course you will." 

Now it's your turn to feel perverse satisfaction, watching as his lip trembles at the very thought of getting denied such a treat. Feeling the man's absolute desperation through the fingertips that dig into your hips and slightly hike up the already ridiculously short skirt you're wearing.

"C'mon bestie, please."

"… You did not bestie-zone me right now."

"I — " Chan hesitates and you fear the reality of the situation has hit him. That he'll back out and leave you a yearning mess like this. But then he leans in close to whisper hotly against your ear, "What, you want me to call you something like baby?"

Your hum of consideration encourages him to continue, palms sliding down the sides of your bare thighs and lowering himself at a pace that matches the syllables of each word leaving his mouth. Keeping eye contact with you the whole time as a mischievous smirk lights up his stupidly handsome face. 

"Darling? Babe? Lovely sweetheart? Or…" His voice gets thicker, more gravelly until he's finally on his knees and peering up at you. "A vixen? Seductress? Little whore? My slut?"

His hands sneak upwards again, pausing when they're hidden under the pleat of your skirt. 

"Still, you'll always be my dear best friend." He acknowledges and for some reason, it fills you with a comforting sense of reassurance.

And then he waits, hoping — praying — to get your permission.

The coy way you lift up the skirt in no way matches the cute grin you flash at him. Biting your pointer finger as you reveal your pretty pussy for Chan, its puffy lips spread by the continually soaked thong stuck between them. His eyes flick almost nervously away from yours to get a look, letting out a strangled moan at the sight. 

Automatically drawn like a bee to honey. His heart thumps anxiously when your fingers bury in his bangs to yank at them, halting him just short of being able to stick his tongue out for a taste that he already misses. He whines, fully surrounded by the heady scent of your arousal and unable to feast. But you have something to tell him first.

"You can't make me cum."

"What? Why? Need to stretch — "

"No. I already spent hours practicing with my thirteen-inch, so it'll be fine. We're doing this so you know what the telltale signs are when I'm about to cum when this," you briefly release his hair so manicured nails can pet the outside of your glistening wet cunt, "is wrapped around your dick." You smile when he moans quietly at the revelation and you tug lightly again at silky strands, eager to hear more before you absolutely break him. "And don't you want to see me squirt?"

"God, yes."

You shove his face between your inner thighs. "Then this'll help, baby boy. So, don't you dare let me cum unless it's on your cock."

Chan really can't protest against what you call him and honestly wouldn't want to because that would mean leaving the delectable meal he's finally being allowed to dine on. Though your thong remains in the way, he uses it to his advantage. Sucking all the wetness out of it with a hearty groan of appreciation, pushing it back between your folds, and running his tongue that put it there in zig-zag motions along the sorry excuse for fabric. Then repeating the same motions on either side of the bare supple pussy lips that clench at every nibble, suck, and brush on them.

It isn't very long until he gets frustrated by its restrictions though, feeling outrageous at how jealous he's getting of a piece of cloth that gets to wrap around your cunt all the time. Like you can read his mind, you pull him off with breathless laughter at his inevitable moan of sadness and mumble words of reassurance that you're doing it for his benefit.

He can't really hear with the rush of adrenaline roaring in his ears but he surely sees how you rip the offending thong away. It tears easily, falling apart at its most sodden point. And finally, your pussy is truly bare all for him and he rushes to dive back in. Slurping and sucking at your drenched hole like a dehydrated man finding an oasis in the desert.

Again, Chan's intentions were to leave you weak with the magic his mouth and tongue could work but you don't really allow him. His neck's cranked at an awkward angle as you continue to grip at his hair and smother his lips and tongue with your cunt, sloppy ruts back and forth causing your clit to catch and bump against his nose. He doesn't mind even if he's ninety-nine percent positive this is how you'd get off on one of your toys — no, he definitely has not imagined that — but he's not complaining.

There's something in the way that you're utterly using him like he's nothing but an object for your ultimate pleasure. It has the blood rushing down to swell up his cock even more. And maybe he's willingly happy to do so. Offering his body for your pleasure, making sure to stiffen his tongue so it will hit part of your clit as you move and grind all over his face. 

It's kinda hot. He also might be enjoying this a little too much.

And just as his eyes roll up for the umpteenth time out of delicious, delirious dizziness, he feels it. 

The buildup must have been when you started humping his chin shamelessly, slamming down harshly enough that he's sure he'll have bruises to show off. Settling more and more of your weight forward to arch your back, breasts heavy as they follow gravity, and your nipples visibly poke through the crop top's thin material. 

Your hips jerk up and away a few times, the subtle wiggle in them certainly has your ass jiggling cutely. He also notes how your "ah" moans turn to "mhms", positive you're biting your lip with closed eyes and a pleased grin. By now the hands tangling in his hair have made their way to the back of his head and Chan knows one thing for sure.

You're on the brink of climaxing.

And as much as he wants you to make more of a mess on his face, he's a little afraid of what you might do — or might not do — so he obediently, but regretfully backs away and sinks down to sit on his heels. Pathetic, the way he has to simply watch like a good boy as your slit flutters above him and you release the death grip hold you had on his poor hair.

Once all of your weight is supported by the wall again, you slide down it to plop on the floor. A sheepish grin on your face as you praise him for doing such a great job, reveling in what a sexy, fucked-out look he's wearing — mussed-up hair, swollen lips, and a shiny mix of sweat and arousal decorating his face as his eyes struggle to refocus while he catches his breath.

He embarrassingly thinks you might kiss him when you lean in. Only to jolt with surprise at your hand slipping into his back pocket and he flinches after you squeeze at his well-shaped ass with a naughty giggle. 

"A souvenir," you murmur in his ear and he feels the spongy ball of your torn thong when he stands like it's a gold coin weighing down his jeans.

"Can't believe you ripped those yourself."

"Can't believe you didn't rip them."

"Didn't wanna ruin them," he admits because he'd honestly feel bad. Though you shoot him a funny look that he doesn't quite understand as he assists your wobbling frame on the walk to the bedroom.

"Dude, you've already ruined so many, what's one more pair?"

"Huh?"

It's amazing how serious you are when you ask, "Don't you remember how wet I've been getting thinking about your dumb cock? Almost ran out of panties to wear."

With that admission, Chan is immediately rushing you down the hallway and has you on his bed at record speed. It's so comical that you have no choice but to once again fall into that giggly headspace like earlier as you help one another strip each other's clothes off.

"God, why are you like this? Such a fucking little tease."

"You love it."

"Hm, yeah," he looks at you with such tenderness, "guess I do."

You verbally agree even as you grab at his wrist before he can throw his boxers to the ground. "Hand 'em over. It's only fair if you have mine," you point out when he raises an eyebrow.

"Someone's full of surprises."

"Well, somebody's loved all of them so I'm sure he'll like this one too."

Though he falls onto his back easily when you push him down, he can't help but raise concern. "I get that you… practiced, but wouldn't a better position be with me on top? You'll like — "

"And I get that you liked being used like a dildo, baby boy." 

You miss the chagrined look that rapidly spreads across Chan's pretty face at the callout. But that's okay because you turn around to throw a leg over and straddle his prone body, staring at your prize of the night — the fattest dick you've been fantasizing about in the flesh.

"Thanks for these, by the way." You send a wink at him over your shoulder, waving the boxers that dangle off your pointer finger. "Need something to bite onto," you add and moan when you deliberately let your tongue meet the salty patch of precum smeared on them before clamping the black cloth between your teeth.

His heavy cock jerks up, already overwhelmed by everything you're doing. His hips follow suit, also lifting once the feeling of your dripping cunt soaks his abs as you sit and press him back against the bed and reach a hand out. He groans, clutching at the blanket when your palm rubs at the sensitive skin. You marvel at how your decently sized fingers fail to fully wrap around the entire girth.

It already weighs a ton laying against the hand you're using and struggling to prop it up. Shining in all its glory from the excess that's leaked and coated it thoroughly. You seem happy to add to it and Chan's eyes widen at the couple of clear globs of arousal that drip out of your cunt, aided by two free fingers spreading your pussy lips and contracting your inner walls to squeeze them out. And then you sink a little lower, kissing the tip of his cock with your clit before rubbing the thick head between your folds.

"You're… you're so w-wet, mhm, fuck!" He's already on the brink of tears and this is just the beginning. And the gasping man might've just let out a sob at the sight of both of your hands shaking, clasped around his dick as you position it at the right angle and slowly ease the tip inside. "God, 'n so soft," he fucking gargles out due to how much he's drooling.

You're no better off. The saliva that's pooling in your mouth at the delightful ache and burn has completely saturated his boxers. They do nothing to muffle your moans that only grow higher in pitch with the few additional inches you attempt to take, a little more each time. But at least you won't grind your teeth together, plus you're buried in the taste and scent of Chan's essence. Even more so as you topple forward, nails digging into his shins.

It's almost humiliating. How you've ended up face-planting into the mattress and your hips take on a mind of their own, humping up and down midair yet still on the top of his cock. Circling and gyrating as they attempt to both run away and plop firmly up and down onto the hard, thick length begging to fully bury into your tight cunt that's slowly widening to accommodate. 

Luckily, it's not like Chan can make fun of or even blame you, focusing everything he can on not thrusting up into your wet heat on his own accord right now out of consideration. The man understands it's a stretch, a painful one at that.

He doesn't mind staying mildly distracted. There's so much to take in. Ogling the way your ass bounces and jiggles, pornographic sound effects of his cock absolutely bullying your pussy as it squelches in and out. Filling the room with nasty noises audio porn wishes it could truly replicate amid both of your pants, moans, groans, and whines.

It feels like forever until his length has finally made its home within your squishy walls that welcome it inside with a multitude of affectionate squeezes. But honestly, that barely lasts because your hips refuse to let up and once the stretch no longer burns as much and instead melts into mind-numbing pleasure, all you can do is ride him into delirium. And Chan fucking loves it, continuing to watch how your ass reverberates with each downward slam accompanied by the sting of ass cheeks slapping against his stomach over and over again.

"S-so slutty f'me, b-best friend actin' like a whore on my dick."

"Ah, mm… cock… your cock! It's makin' me act slutty!"

"Yeah? You like being my slutty best friend, baby?"

You lug your head onto the leg you'd been riddling with love bites and salivating all over after spitting out his ruined boxers, looking tearfully in his direction. Cross-eyed with a goofy smile on your face at how fucked-out you've become as your clit grinds against his squishy balls that tighten, firm, and fill up with each thud of your hips. 

"Mhm… yeah."

"You gonna be my slutty baby from now on?"

"Ohhh, touch me Channie… please!"

"Since y-you asked so nicely." He squeezes at your ass cheek though it's quickly wrenched out of his grasp because you can't stop moving. "But I… I asked you a question." And then his palm flies out, skin meeting skin in a loud crack against your other cheek. As if it's actually a punishment. "My pretty whore's too fucked out to answer, h-huh?"

"Mhmph! More… more!"

A gasp leaves your mouth and impossibly, your hips only speed up before they suddenly halt. Practically screaming at this point with how good your best friend's cock is buried so deeply and fully seated inside as you somehow manage to sit up with inhuman strength. 

Oh, but your darling Channie knows why.

He lazily grins, empty mind now playing all the signs through his head along to the same moments happening in real-time. You have a death grip on his thighs, certain he'd really impale you in a morbid way if you lose your hold as you bounce haphazardly. How nice, he decides to aid you — giving into the urges to thrust up into your suffocating little cunt whenever you rise up so you constantly remain stuffed full every single time.

Your back does its arch thing and he runs a hand down the curve, pushing down ever so gently as he takes over. It's his turn for a slapping assault, his balls returning the favor on your tender clit that pokes and rubs at them, egging on the brutal pace you started in the first place.

"Gonna squeeze the life outta me," and you clench even tighter around him so that even the air in his lungs is sucked out by the squeeze of your cunt. "You wanna murder me with that sweet pussy of yours? Choke the life outta me, sweetheart? Like the well-behaved little whore that you are?"

Chants of "yes, yes, yes" fall in between salacious moans of "mhms" and "fuck Channie, so good" and it fuels Chan into true unleashed feral mode. The addition of the white ring forming at the base of his cock in no way, shape, or form is helping to reign him in at all. He presses appreciative bruises into the skin of your hips, aiding your sore and tired legs with the powerful strength of his arms.

"A creamer too… oh my god, what can't your cunt do baby, fuck — so freakin' perfect."

"All… all for you!"

Chan laughs and it's mean, a petulant frown causing your lips to jut out at his mocking tone. "For me? You gonna be a-all mine from now on? Let me be the only one t-to stretch this sweet hole out?"

Ongoing cries of "yes" mixes and slurs with "yours" but it's enough for him, especially when you manage to moan out with a promise that you're definitely his slutty whore and will only be his forever.

That pleases him, an elated grumble rumbling in his chest. "Gonna fill 'er up real good and you'll swallow me whole baby. Feel me for days, drippin' outta — ah, shit!" 

His voice cracks, the hands assisting your movements haul your hips up and then down, anchoring them firmly against his pelvis. You peer over your shoulder at him in utter dismay at suddenly being empty. His missed cock trembling without your warmth, flopping hot and hard against your stomach. Granting a helpful outside visual of how deep it can drill up into your cunt. But that's kind of useless when you already experienced it first-hand, so all you can do is send Chan a weepy glare.

"S-sorry babe, we just, I should probably… " His eyes dart to the unopened drawer of his nightstand. "Gonna throw a condom on."

You let out a scoff of disbelief and discontent, surly brat behavior poking through. "Doesn't matter, wanna feel you fill me up. 'N then squirt it all out, won't matter anyways."

"That's not how it works."

Chan's grateful the usual post-nut clarity somehow hit before. It's still awful timing and might have been a complete mood killer but you're both so worked up — you in particular — it doesn't seem to matter. Even as he nudges you off while reaching for a package, you back up and try to grind against his cock to change his mind. But you reluctantly give up, especially when he ends up reacting with a harsher hiss more from rolling the latex down the sensitive length than your plump ass rubbing it. 

You're honestly a little offended. 

He hushes and tries to soothe you. Fumbling with the slick mess around your gaping hole and dipping inside occasionally with one hand as he works on the condom. But you know for a fact you've been ruined because you barely feel a thing after your cunt's been stretched out for and filled specifically with his huge cock. 

Now you just wish he'd ultimately finish the job of ruining you. Oh, and maybe continue some more after. And a lot. 

You grimace because you're able to think too much. And then Chan's finally all ready to go and your cheek is suddenly pressed into the rumpled sheets, nipples brushing deliciously against them. You're pushed onto your forearms and he helps widen your knees at a spread angle so your pussy is fully presentable and gapingly accessible. 

"Good thing I'm flexible." 

"Yeah," Chan licks his lips, "just as I'd expect from my sweet slut." 

"You gonna fill this slut up then, Channie or — " 

You're cute off by the squeal at his cock ramming back inside of where it belongs. Meanwhile, he chuckles darkly, running a hand through sweaty bangs as he tries to distribute weight solidly with how he's risen to his knees. Finding little support from the mattress to support the onslaught of powerful thrusts in and out of your pussy and discovers a better method with a tight hold of your hips where his hands instinctively fall. 

"Best way to shut a whore up is to fuck them." He clicks his tongue in disapproval because you're nuzzling face-first into the bed, muffling the sounds that drive him crazy. "Doesn't mean I don't wanna hear you moan f'me, baby."

What he doesn't know is you're trying to find something to bite into that won't end up being your poor tongue. 

To manhandle you as he sees fit, Chan's fingers slip down to splay around where your vocal cords lie. Thumb digging beneath your jawline into the soft fleshy skin of your neck. Teasing you with a not-quite-there chokehold that causes you to pulsate around the cock sliding in and out with little resistance thanks to the help of the slick that pools endlessly out of your core. 

Then he's turning your head to the side to watch your eyelids flutter rapidly. Noticing how your jaw is clenched, teeth practically gnashing at each push into you that now relentlessly strokes that bundle of nerves. Taking pity, he lends a finger. Prying open your mouth and not caring when you bite down on it with a ferocity that could break skin — that's what he offered it for anyways — though it will definitely leave behind bruising indents that'll take days to heal. 

But he wouldn't care if you ended up breaking his bones too. With the way he's driving his dick over and over into you like a madman, he possibly could break something by that alone. The new position benefits the both of you greatly, granting him a better angle to reach deep and you find comfort in the way his body lays against yours. Pressing you down further into the bed, the weight comforting.

Even through the latex, he can feel the little bump of nerves his tip brushes against that's just rough enough to make him shiver. He purposefully aims his pelvis to be able to hit it each time. The lone arm at your hip wraps around your abdomen and he moans at how he can feel the bulge of skin pressed against his forearm from the size of the monster dick within you. 

It drives him feral, punctuating each sharp thrust with a praising hiss of, "Best. fuckin'. pussy. ever!"

And then it's happening. You can literally see the tightly-wound knot unraveling. Can feel as it loosens while your cunt suctions around his cock in a hard, vice-like grip. You cling around him, refusing to let him leave your warmth for a second. Not even daring to let him slide even a bit out. Though he wouldn't even think of it. As the mental ties come undone in your brain, so does your body — plummeting over and free-falling off the cliff of pleasure.

White flashes across your vision as your body writhes and shakes beneath Chan. Overcome by how fucking amazing it feels to be so full with the devastatingly huge dick of the person you care about the most tearing apart your insides. You're sobbing, tears drenching your face and where it lays. 

Chan's praising you through it all, complimenting how good you are for him, how perfect everything about you is, and how only you — his bestest, sluttiest, sweetest friend — could take him so well.

"Fuckin' knew you would be the one," he confesses and presses a kiss against your neck. It's so tender, full of love and gentleness despite how his hips cruelly still haven't let up, and it makes you wail even louder. "Ever since you smiled at me. Now, c'mon sweetheart 'n give it all to me. Show's only just gettin' started."

He's guiding you through the most intense orgasm you've ever had as it spirals from a crashing wave into a soon-to-be gushing waterfall. Yes, you've squirted before. But never with such a delightful buildup like this. And he knows you can take it, knows it's what you want as he coaches himself to hold off from his own finale. You let out a hearty moan, shaking at the overstimulation and feeling him twitch repeatedly inside. Almost as if his dick itself is begging for your release so it can do the same.

Your body listens and obeys, utterly charmed by your best friend's cock. Not like that would change the impending fate bound to happen anyway. Your cunt expels him out with a spray that splashes against his abs and drips down his thighs. Chan swears and grabs his length that bobs in the air upon being freed, fingers holding the condom tightly at the base like a makeshift cock ring. 

Furiously jerking off just a little bit to reach completion and then he's emptying what feels like a life's worth into the poor condom that can barely contain it. Unlike your pussy that would take it all if given the chance. It inflates, ballooning out and filling up with so much cum it's threatening to pop. As if it wasn't working overtime, straining around the sheer size of his cock.

It's so full and heavy, gravity weighing it down to flop against your folds that squirt out a tiny bit more upon contact that has your legs seizing. Your lower body — now growing numb — was somehow still sustained by Chan's insane one-arm strength until he flops onto you. Bringing you both down onto the wet mess on the bed.

"Get off, you're heavy," you grouch though a dumb smile lights up your blissed-out face.

He laughs breathlessly and rolls onto his side, bringing you into his arms and looking at you with stars in his eyes. You nuzzle into his neck, inhaling his comforting scent you never want to be without now that you've been fully encompassed by it in such an intimate manner. So you wait, feeling the way your hearts both beat rapidly and he takes a deep breath. Chest expanding as his lungs fill with much-needed air after so much exertion. 

Anticipation brims from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes when Chan finally asks, "Hey, do you still think size doesn't matter?"

You blink. Once. Twice. Thrice. Definitely not the question you were expecting.

There's a lively spark still dancing in his tired eyes and you match it with a playful smile. "I'm not really sure, I think you'll have to prove it to me a few more times."

"Suppose there's still a lot of condoms we can't let go to waste."

"Aw, you don't want me to make you some balloon animals?"

"That offer is tempting but…" Sneaky hands tickle the swell below your breasts and you giggle, half-heartedly batting him away. "Not as much as you are."

"And you know… there's still a lot of chances to confirm some things while we test out whose theory is right."

"Confirm what, my dear? 'Cause I'm pretty sure I've already staked my claim on what's mine." It's embarrassing how easily Chan can read you, a know-it-all smirk on his face as he cups your warm cheek oh-so-lovingly. "My slutty bestie's the only one who can take my cock like a champ, there's no way I'm letting you go now."

It's even more embarrassing that your heart and sore hole flutter at crude words that totally shouldn't make you feel like a silly fool in love. But because you are, it only makes you fall harder.

"So, you're mine now too?"

"If that's okay with you."

And of course, it's okay with you, you verbally affirm. Feeling his smile against your own when he leans in to kiss you. You'll confirm later that size really doesn't matter.  After all, you just happen to be lucky that your bestie-now-turned-boyfriend has a huge cock to complement the equally huge amount of love he has stored for you in his heart.

onlyseokmins: June 2023 ©

[arminsumi]

can i get an eager, inexperienced gojo? he is probably so silly and loving during sexy time but he still acts like a horndog, not sure where to touch, kinda nerv but tryna cover it up bc he’s the strongest sorcerer, ofc he’s been with so many ladies before!!!! (he hasn’t but he doesn’t want YOU to know that)

love your works as always stay safe💗💗💗

AIN'T NEVER DID THIS BEFORE, NO.

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 — 五条悟

NOTE: this made me think of that j. cole song so i looped it while writing all 2.3k of this fic 🥴 i hope u like what i did!! mwaaa smooches!! hope ur well <3

🔞 mdni / 18+ content

SUMMARY — Gojo's saved up his virginity ever since he met you, savoring every wet dream through the years until he finally got the real thing in a hotel room in Okinawa.

WARNINGS — fem reader, n.sfw content, profanity, pre-established relationship

SMUT WARNINGS — virginity loss, light dirty talk, nicknames (good girl, sweet girl, daddy), Gojo's so nervous and inexperienced wheee😩💗, protected sex/condoms used, multiple rounds (2), kitty eating, giving him head, fluffy ending scene, lmk if i have missed smth and pls overlook errors i'm slepy asf it's 2am

Wordcount ≈ 2.3k

Playme ♪ wet dreamz

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

You can’t miss the way his Addam’s apple shifts up and down when he swallows, or the way he gawks when you wiggle out of your clothes and toss them off the side of the hotel bed.

Where are my hands supposed to go?

He’s thinking that while haphazardly squeezing a large handful of your hips and hotly kissing your neck.

This has been his long-anticipated dream come true… see, Gojo Satoru met you in high school. And the first thing he thought to himself was I want her to take my virginity. So, he had promised himself that one day, when he was older, he was gonna give it to you.

All his cheeky flirting and dirty jokes got him here, in this room of some dreadfully expensive hotel in Okinawa. Yes, he’s cheesy, as cheesy as he was when he used to lean over his desk during high school to whisper dumb pickup lines into your ear; he requested rose petals and wine. He had the lights dimmed. He laid you down with kisses right on top of those strewn petals.

Crazed, feverish, eager, overwhelmed; he was bursting with a bunch of feelings – predominantly horniness. He’s always had that horny twang about him, he was unashamed about it around you – it’s what got you hot for him in the first place, the fact that he was so bold with his dirty jokes and naughty hints.

But now he’s struggling to find his words. Now that smart mouth is sparsely throwing out witty remarks. Now he was heavily relying on comedy to ease his nervousness and mask his inexperienced movements.

He let you roll on top and savored each kiss that you pressed down his chest – heaving, he was heaving and hot already and all the two of you had done so far was romantic French kissing and tentative touches across each other’s bare skin.

The heat of your flushed cheeks seared his lower abdomen.

How low is she gonna go – oh my god what do I do – play it cool – oh my god is she actually – wow this is really happening.

Such a mess of goofy thoughts passed through his mind when you pressed a testing kiss to his glistening cockhead. Giving the slit a lick made his shoulders scrunch up, and his voice shook a bit, “Shit, baby, you don’t have to do that if you don’t w – want to… oh fuck…”

“But I’ve wanted to suck it so bad, I’ve thought about it so much.” You batted your eyes at him.

His stomach flipped.

“O-okay… ” he breathed. In the back of his mind, he was self-conscious about sounding like a virgin… because he totally was. And he wasn’t masking it very well when you started kissing and licking on his cock.

Feling your tongue swirl circles around his bulbous head, then swiping the underside, nearly made him bust right there. It took every bit of this strong boy’s strength to hold it in. And there was a lot to hold in.

“Oh that’s so fucking good.” He moaned.

You lowered your lips down his slickened cock, the warmth and texture of it delighting your tongue. Taking in his scent, his taste, his sounds – when you hollowed out your cheeks and suctioned your lips around him, he let out an uneasy moan. He was really gonna bust right there in your mouth if he didn’t tell you to ease up.

“B-baby, you’re so good at that – but – but fuckkk – slow down f’me…” he pleaded, big hand coming to the back of your head as you slid off his cock – that also almost made him bust. Oh god, you unknowingly edged him. Maybe you knew that, because you giggled at the way his cock jumped and visibly twitched after popping your lips off of it.

“Sorry, you good?” you asked him sweetly. He looked at you through lust-glazed eyes, his lower lip glistening with a bit of drool.

“ ‘m okay – fuck come here and get on your back. ‘Wanna do that to you too.” He commanded you, eagerly shuffling positions.

He lowered his face between your legs, marvelling at the shiny wet sheen smeared across your inner thigh. A thin web of juice connected from your hole.

“Sorry, I know it’s rude to stare.” He chuckled, joking to lighten his nerves. But earning a laugh from you made his heart flutter before he dove right into it – now here’s where you realized something.

He was inexperienced. Totally. Sweetly so. His tongue flicked and darted around, swiping along your slit, gathering your juices like he was thirsty. The way he licked you up felt like he was some college boy giving his crush head in a lucid dream.

But if there’s one thing you know about Gojo Satoru, it’s that he can do anything he tries. You started out giggling and squirming on his face, and ended up squealing his name and arching your back. Switching between suckling at your clit and lapping at your folds and slipping his buttery tongue into your hole – he was having fun figuring it out.

And my god, he had the biggest, smuggest, most smackable grin on his face when he made you cum.

“W-wipe that grin off your face.” You panted, half-dazed from your orgasm.

His grin only grew wider. Now he was feeling a bit cocky, a little high on a sugar rush of confidence because he just made the girl of his dreams cum from a little amateur tongue-fucking.

“You musta really wanted it bad, huh?” he teased, crawling up to meet your face and pressing a few wet, sloppy kisses to your awaiting lips. You could taste yourself, and he was conscious of that – and it made him almost bust on your tummy. You felt his cock jumping and twitching and throbbing against your skin.

“Don’t get all smug now…” you muttered.

His plumped, flushed lips hovered over your face. “Thanks for the meal.” He whispered jokingly, wiping your juice off his cheek with his thumb and suckling it off.

“Hahaha what!” you broke out laughing. “You’re ridiculous!”

He ran his tongue over his lips to tease you, “Tasted better than in my dreams.”

Now that made you flush hotter underneath him. Because for some reason, it hadn’t occurred to you that he had wet dreams of you. But he did. And he was too embarrassed to admit the number – it was big. He dreamed of you a lot. Especially taking you from the back… so naturally

“Turn around f’me, please?” he asked, “I wanna see you from the back.”

Your lack of hesitation to switch positions for him made his heart thump.

“Good girl…” he muttered under his breath, unsure of how you’d take the nickname. But hearing your giggly hum and seeing your hips wiggle up to his pelvis reassured him that you liked it.

So he engulfed you from behind, “You like that?” he whispered into your ear, big hand smoothing over the curves of your body to get a good feel of it. “Want me to call you a good girl?”

You nodded into the plush pillow, “Yes please. I like it.” You mumbled into the fabric.

“Can’t hear you, speak up.” He smiled against the shell of your ear teasingly. “Daddy’s hard of hearing.” He joked.

You rolled your eyes at his dumb goofiness. For some reason you thought it would switch off in the bedroom, but no – he was just as much as a dumb good in and out of bed.

“ ‘call me your good girl, please. I like it.”

His cock twitched. He’d started rubbing and pressing his cock into you from the back. The way your thighs and plush little pussy hugged him was better than any dream – lucid or not. And he’s had a lot of lucid wet dreams of you. Of this, specifically; taking you from behind. In his dreams, he’s pounding into you so good that you cream and cream and cream all over him. He just hopes he can actually achieve that in reality.

When he lowers his hands and fists his cock a bit before running the head between your folds, a pang of nervousness strikes his chest. That feeling came over him – that realization that oh, I’m gonna have my first time.

“So pretty…” he compliments, one hand soothingly caressing around your pussy.

To you, it almost feels like he might have done this before – you’re not sure – with the way he lightly smacks his cock on your hole, and the way he tests your smallness by slipping his tip in and out, you think he’s probably got at least a bit of experience under his belt.

But no. No, not at all. Not even a little bit. In fact, before you, he only kissed two people – and the first didn’t count to him because he hated it, and the second also didn’t count apparently because he was just practicing with Suguru in anticipation of kissing you one day.

“Fuck me…” he hissed through his gritted teeth when he finally sunk more than his tip through your hole.

“Fucking didn’t expect it to feel this good…” he thought out loud. “Might bust right here… fuck.” He blurted, then proceeded to boyishly blush.

Little hole squeezing on his virgin cock, hips wiggling back to meet his pelvis and take him deeper, you pawed behind you to feel him. “Baby, I-I gotta tell you something.” He begins embarrassedly, the nervous twang in his voice is so unfamiliar that you look back at him. “I’ve never done this before…” after he said that he sucked in a breath through his teeth at the feeling of your hole tightening and untightening.

You blink at him, and he’s worried for a split second before you smile sheepishly and tell him that he’s your first, too. Well, that little fun fact is what made him snap his hips against your ass and start fucking into you like he was some sort of crazed animal. He felt dizzied with the rush of pleasure, so stirred by the feeling of your pussy sucking his cock – there was no comparable thing in the world to him right then. He was definitely gonna become a sex-crazed fiend after this night, he thought. Absolutely. How could he not?

“S’toruuu – right there right there!” you cried out his name with such a pretty, strained voice that it made him want to tell you he loves you.

“Here? You like it here?” he hit that spot harder and harder, the squelching sound so dirty that you almost felt ashamed for a second. “My good girl gonna cum like this? Yeah? F-fuck t-t-tell me when you’re close ‘cause I’m close – really fucking close – fuck fuck fuck ahhh ‘gonna cum!”

He’s driving into that sweet spot while he cums, spilling a warm creamy mess into the condom – completely falling to pieces. Gojo’s always been inclined to obsessing over things, and he knows right then – when he cums with your quivering pussy sucking him in – that he’s gonna be obsessing over sex with you after this.

“Keep goinggg ‘m gonna cum too, please!” you whimpered from underneath him. He heard you, he was attentive even though he was panting and dazed. His thrusts got sloppy and he weighted on your body more heavily, you could feel his heartbeat.

“Good girl – g-good girl, rub your pretty clit. Want me to do it for you? M’kay sweet thing, lemme get you there – ah yeah? That feel good? You like daddy’s fingers toying with this pretty pussy? Oh fuck you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he breathed all that into your ear and it absolutely destroyed you, especially with how those intense blue eyes piercingly stared down at you from behind.

“Get that relief, pretty girl – cum all over me. Fuck, there we go – oh wow…” he hit another sweet spot, feeling you gush and writhe under his imposing frame got him close again. “Fuck, baby – just a second, j-just a second ‘m gonna get ‘nother condom, n-need to fucking cum in that pussy again.” He pulled out quick, fingers struggling to free his cock of his already filled lil’ rubber. Squeezing into another one was one of the fastest yet most frustrating things he’s done in a while – oh, you just know that he’s gonna ditch the condoms as soon as you give him the green light to do so. Patience, he thought. He’s gonna need patience and a lot of rubbers.

“Ah fuck me! Satoru!” you arched your back when he re-entered.

“ ‘m gonna cum again, baby – fuck – s-sorry is it too much?” he breathed into your neck. Sweat beaded down his torso, down his thighs – both your bodies pricked with just enough sweat to make it erotically uncomfortable.

You barely managed to tell him that it wasn’t too much because of the way he was sloppily hitting his cockhead into your pussy. Feverish, dazed, pussy-drunk and love-drunk, you felt his hot lips nibbling at your shoulder, then he unexpectedly sank his teeth into your skin. It wasn’t sore, but those canines were a bit sharp.

Muffled moans on your skin sent a shiver down your back, one that travelled to your ass and thighs.

Rolling off to the side, panting and laying exhausted and unmoving.

“Fuck.” He muttered as if to say that was mind-blowing.

“Fuck.” You agreed.

“And ya didn’t even tell me you were a virgin!”

“You didn’t tell me, either!” you giggled, rolling into his embrace.

“But it’s hot if the girl is a virgin!”

You laughed with him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.

He stayed silent for a little while, pulling you closer and caressing your shoulder. The two of you stared up at the ceiling.

“It’s embarrassing.” He admitted. “There was a time I wanted to lose my virginity just so that when I finally got to you, I’d be able to please you better. But I’m glad I waited…”

“Mmm really?” you hummed, he felt your smile print on his chest.

“…yeah.” You could hear his little smile in his voice. “I’m glad I gave it to you.”

[princessbrunette]

I never got over bountyhunter!rafe tying you up, seating you right in front of him on his saddle and your back is just against his chest and his hands on the reigns have you pretty much trapped there!!!!

And he keeps leaning down to whisper threats in your ear like you know what happens if you run and he keeps acting annoyed with you, but you swear you feel smth pressing against your ass someone sedate me

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

sat on his horse with your wrists bound infront of you, his arms wrapped around you to control the reigns. from any onlooker, the two of you would look like a couple. a happily in love one, at that— instead of an innocent young girl with a big bad bounty hunter who’s taken her for his own gain. you think of throwing yourself off the horse, making a run for it— but the man was ill-tempered, big in every sense of the word— he’d have you back in an instant.

“easy, yeah? m’not gonna do anything bad just… behave yourself.” he warns once you’re in place, firm chest resting on your back as he stares ahead, eyes flickering around at his surroundings, and occasionally down the low-cut top of your dress.

you don’t say much, too nervous to speak — and he doesn’t mind, using the peace and quiet to decide on a route as the horse trots along. you reach a town, and his chin is finding home on your shoulder once more, voice low and threatening.

“be cool, alright? draw attention t’yourself n’i swear i’ll slap you fuckin’ silly. gonna be good?” he nudges you a little with his shoulder, prompting an answer and you nod, swallowing.

“yes, sir.”

“good…good.” he’s satisfied, leaning back, even having the audacity to offer a friendly wave to an old farmer at the village entrance, nodding to him. you hate to admit it, but coming from such sheltered land — you kind of miss his warmth when he leans back.

🃜🃚🃖🃁🂭🂺

[sehodreams]

okay🤭 well if i’m feeling brave enough i will send u a message<3

plsss tall line being jealous over wonbin is so😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

i wrote a paragraph before about softer eunseok.. i think u inspired me for sure but then i got carried away again with whatever happened in the second paragraph but i was starting to try to write smth about going to a party with tall line and meeting wonbin but yeah😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 i try to stay focused but then my brain just wants mean/toxic riize so bad

you’re they’re good girl, for sure, they all adore you and normally, you’d never do anything wrong. you can’t in their eyes, you’re just too perfect. but, as much as they want to keep you all to themselves and take care of you and spoil you at home, they also want to show you off. you don’t normally all go out and do things together as 4, but they’ve made an exception today and they want to take you to a party (this is turning into polycule riize loll) so, they dress you up in the cutest pink dress but it’s really short🫢 and tight, it flares out at the bottom a little bit but if you move too much it’s going to ride up and expose your cheeks a bit, even with ur little boyshort panties on. your tummy is so cute and plump pressing against the midsection of the dress, and your breasts spill out the top as usual, even with the little ruffles drawing some of the attention away… you get ready with eunseok sitting on the bed, watching you, as you squeeze into the outfit, “do you think it looks okay?” you ask, doing a little twirl in front of the mirror for him, sucking your tummy in a bit before exhaling and pouting because you worry about your curves being too prominent in this outfit. you feel a bit insecure, and anxious, you turn to pout further at eunseok, playing with the hem of the dress. “what’re you talking about?” eunseok asks, glaring at you with furrowed brows. your heart jumps, but he quickly soothes your fears when he grabs your hips roughly, pulling you towards him. “you look amazing, you don’t even know..” he nearly groans, gripping your love handles firmly, his nose barely an inch from your ample cleavage. you whine a little as he buries his face in your breasts, nipping at the plump, upper flesh of your tits. you wiggle your hips in his hold, feeling yourself grow wet from the biting and the way his fingers dig into your sides. “you’re so beautiful, my girl,” he draws back from your chest and gives your ass a sharp smack before standing up. “come on baby, let’s go before we end up being too late,” he pats the side of your tummy, guiding you out of the bedroom with him.

you ride to the party in sungchan’s car, he drives the four of you, with eunseok in the passenger seat and you seated in the back with anton next to you. anton keeps shifting in his seat, stealing glances over at you and your plush figure, catching glimpses of the way the moonlight reflects off your exposed skin, your neck, your plump thighs. you catch his gaze when you look towards him, and he blushes although you can’t really tell in the dark car. his hand comes to rest on your thigh, and you lean into his shoulder at the touch. you can’t hear, but his heart begins to thump. eunseok turns around to face into the backseat at all the movement, and stares down anton. “what’re you doing?” he asks. “nothing,” anton mumbles softly, despite his hand inching closer to your core, your knees quake as his knuckles brush against your panties and eunseok’s narrow glare makes your cunt clench. “we’re almost there,” eunseok says, firmly, and anton responds with only an “i know” as he rubs his fingers against your folds, your hips instinctively bucking forward into his touch. eunseok just rolls his eyes, and turns back to face the front, but your panting and whining echoes throughout the vehicle, both sungchan and eunseok feeling their members stir in their pants. “does that feel good, angel?” anton purrs in your ear, there’s barely any friction but he still has you trying to grind your hips forward to get more contact with his hand. “yes, mm please!” you moan, squeezing your thighs together to try to bring his hand closer, eventually reaching out to grab his wrist to pull him closer but he slaps your hand away, albeit gently, and grips your thigh with his free one. “shush, be good” he coos, but you don’t listen and try to grab his hand again, so he responds by slapping your thigh, hard enough for you to cry out. “what’s going on back there?” sungchan growls from the driver’s seat, and eunseok turns back around to see your flushed face, panties all twisted from anton’s teasing and the blooming red mark on your thigh. “leave her alone” eunseok laughs at the younger man, so this time anton obeys, adjusting your underwear back into place and rubbing your thigh to soothe it. you swallow hard, exhaling slowly and trying to ignore the tight knot that’s built up in your stomach.

idk what the point of any of that was. but i just think about these 3 a lot as u can tell😵‍💫😵‍💫 i wanna try to write more at some point but it takes a lot of focus

You write really good and you have a style I can instantly notice, I definitely think you should write these ideas as drabbles because they're sooo good, it almost feel bad to only see them here in my blog 😭🩷

I love those three, in my head I can't see them going to a party together since in my hc they're all in different circles, but I'd really love this idea if the three of them studied together, all of them taking you to a party to parade you around, always close to you to make sure no one tries anything wl😫 (however, who would dare, just look at those big boys)

My hc is also swinging more in intimacy, so I don't see them taking you out that much as a group, EXCEPT... while grocery shopping.

Just imagine them all telling you to go, walking the streets with you between them, talking and trying their best to not hold you in public. Then, when you arrive, it feels like a trip, Anton pushing the cart beside you while Eunseok chooses ingredients, Sungchan sweets and when it's finally his turn he goes for the snacks.

You don't really want anything since they're already taking too much stuff but if you ever wanted something, you'd just have to look at it to one of them to silently put it in the cart.

Also, the way I can see them act as your boyfriend when you're with each of them alone.

Sungchan taking your hand and walking you from the bus stop to home and vice versa because he wants to make sure you're always safe.

Anton walking with you to convenience stores to buy you things you need and then carrying all the bags in one hand while he holds your hand with his free one.

Eunseok following you from behind, not touching your hand but still extremely close, almost making all the conversation and grabbing your waist when you're finally in the building, and leaving his hand there until the elevator reaches your floor (if you're tired) or staring at your ass if you're taking the stairs.

All of these ideas I have are more in an individual context, but what I love about these ideas is that i imagine your neighbors thinking you're cheating on them with each other, and then when they discover you live with all of them they would all lose their minds 💀

[lalunaescll]

imo i am not good at writing chr x you, im better in writing chr x chr or chr x oc or maybe 1st person pov smth like that

and im sorry idk what is this, i just wrute something that comes to my mind

11.30 am

"I hate field work," you groan as you look at your now broken nails, "i mean, look!" You showed your hand to Javier and Steve.

"What's with it, hermosa?" Javi teasingly ask, knowing how to pull your strings, "that's bad," Steve mutter under his breath as he took a glance at your nails.

After a long field work of looking for Escobar's little rat you're stuck with two of your coworkers doing more paperwork, you would do anything to kill Escobar just so you won't have to work late.

You rolled your eyes as you lean back in your chair, "Javi, you're coming with me," you narrow your eyes at him, "where?" His dumbfounded face made you wanna smile even though you fight it hard not to show it.

"My next nail appointment, duh."

10.05 pm

"When a girl show you her nail you have, no, need, you need to react dramatically," you explain to him as you sat down in front of your nail tech as Javier sat down beside you on the floor, waiting for her to prepare her nail polish.

He nodded his head, looking at you seriously, "i think you should paint it, red," he murmurs under his breath. You shrug your shoulders, "no man can tell me what to paint my nails unless he's the one paying."

"I'll pay for it," he said, "it's expensive," you counter, maybe he'd gave up and just sat there in silence like you ask him to when you're in his car, "I'll pay for it, hermosa," his gruff voice made you wanna melt this time, he stands up and told your nail tech the color he wants.

12.22 pm

You had lunch with Javi, Steve, Connie, and Olivia. Connie admire your nails as Steve and Javi talks about the most absurd and random things that could possibly happen if Escobar got elected as president.

It was supposed to be just lunchtime, but somehow it turns into a little more than that. The four of you went to a mall, somehow forgetting about the fact that maybe there's some are in Colombia that's destroyed by Escobar.

Olivia in your arms while Javi follows you as Connie and Steve stray away, it's good to give them a break sometimes.

"I can't imagine myself having a baby," you said after you smells the strawberry scent on Olivia's baby hair, "birthed or adopted, maybe i would if i have a good man who can handle baby, but.. now, maybe no."

Javier didn't respond, and it made you feel a bit embarrassed, sometimes the both lf you are just to close that you feel to comfortable saying anything around him.

The two of you kept walking and walking around until you ended up in baby clothing section, you talk softly to Olivia, telling her she'd look pretty in any kind of dress they sell here.

"Am i a good man, hermosa?"

The question startled you a little bit, " yeah.. well, at least for me, you are."

Your answer lingers in the air, making awkward atmosphere around the both of you, until you saw Connie and Steve.

3.50 pm

Te amo, Te amo, Te amo, is what he kept whispering in your ear as he kept thrusting his hips upward.

Javier always treat you differently from all the other girls in the embassy, he fucked all the girls there except you but he gave you flowers and chocolate on Valentine's day despite saying he did not celebrate days like that.

This time, Javi let himself cross the line.

The thought of starting a family always appeared on his mind, even though he quickly bury them with alcohol, fucking, and the idea that he's a bad guy, just like Escobar.

And this time, he let the idea surfaced, turning them into a stamina that he used to thrust his dick deep inside you. He can feel your nails scratching his back, possibly leaving permanent red scratches that he'd be proud of.

"I'll be a good ma- n, I'll take you to, fuck, my pops ranch," he whispered, his arms around your hips, hands spreading you cheeks.

[fezphoria]

Hi love!! Absolutely love the way you write and the three part story with Fezco❤️I love angsty stories and basically anything that revolves around heartbreak, so is it ok if I send a request for angst with Fezco x reader?

Maybe where Fezco is cheating on the reader with a random girl for a longer time without the reader knowing, and then them finding out. You can end it in any way that you want but I would love if it ends in heartbreak, I haven’t read anything with that kind of end yet. Maybe if fez realizes that he messed up but the reader has lost all her trust for him.

Thank you so much, much love❤️❤️

You look down at your phone again, rereading your text conversation like somehow the words will morph and change into something else. Anything else. 

lulu 🥺❤️: hey i saw fez today

You: where? At a party or smth?

lulu 🥺❤️: No. he was with a a girl with dyed red hair

You: Might be someone he deals to

lulu 🥺❤️: Dude they were in his car, alone. 

You: did you recognize her?

lulu 🥺❤️: I didn’t see her face. they were kissing 

You: He wouldn’t do that. Seriously

lulu 🥺❤️: I would never lie to u

lulu 🥺❤️: U said he’s been acting weird right 

lulu 🥺❤️: Like really weird right 

It wasn’t obvious at first, actually. Not really. You still spent the night when you could, and Fez never turned you away. He still kissed you like he meant it, fucked you like he meant it, told you he loved you like he meant it. 

But he also became possessive. And he was never a possessive guy before. It was one of the things you’d liked so much about him. He was intense, yes. And he could be jealous every once in a blue moon. But asking who you were with, and calling you often, and glancing at your phone? Questioning you every time you walked out the door and every time you walked in? No. 

And you, in all your trusting idiocy, didn’t stop to figure out why this was happening. But it was his one tell, the one red flag that slipped through. 

For every time Fez got irritated with you for coming home late, it was because he’d been with someone else the night before. 

“Cheaters are always paranoid that they're being cheated on.” You’d heard that before. From older, wiser women. You hardly paid attention.

You’re still not sure if you’ve really processed it. The clues were there - a single earring loose in his car, the way he smelled a little different when you tucked your nose into his sweater, the nights when he would shower the second he got home. And you don’t know why you didn’t piece it together. Maybe it was denial, but honestly it was probably just that you were blinded by love. 

You’ve never loved anyone the way you love Fez. And no one has ever loved you the way Fez loves you. 

You never stood a chance. It’s like he stole your heart and he’d never even meant to do it. 

One day you’re making small talk with the cute guy behind the counter, and the next thing you know you’re in his bed. You’re fucking him, and loving him, and arguing with him. Fighting about your future, and your past, and how you overstep when it comes to Fez raising his own brother. You want it all. The love, the obsession, the fights. 

He tells you he can see his future in your eyes. He asks you to stay the night even when you really shouldn’t. He says you’re too good for him. 

And then he goes behind your back and fucks someone else. 

When Fez opens the door to the walk-in fridge, he seems mildly surprised. You’ve pulled the chair out in front of the table, and you’re sitting in it, waiting. 

You’d asked Ash to text Fez and tell him he wanted to meet at the store when he was finished with whatever he was doing. You feel bad about using Ashtray like that - you told him you wanted to surprise Fez and he didn’t seem to believe you. But he did it anyway. 

Now you’re sitting here, arms wrapped around yourself to fend off the chill, your skin cold on the surface and your blood hot with anger. 

Fez walks up to you, placing one warm hand on your shoulder before leaning down. 

“Hey, baby.” He kisses your cheek, and you close your eyes at the sensation of his lips and his beard and the tip of his nose. “Where’s the kid?”

You open your eyes and look at him, silent, and he raises his brows. 

“You good?”

You nod. 

“Who’d you hang out with?” You start.

“Was jus’ dealing at a party.”

“Whose party?” 

He looks at you carefully, and you think about all the times he questioned you in the same way. 

“Ionno, babe. I just hear about ‘em and I show up.”

“Who else went?” You probe, wondering when he will start being honest. 

“Some college kids.” He answers. 

Your patience wears thin. You sit in silence for a few beats, watching him watch you. 

“Who’s the girl?”

He stares at you, and it’s not that careful look he often wears. He looks half afraid. He doesn’t answer. 

“Whose earring did I find in your car?” You press, nodding your head in the direction of the door, beyond which the car is parked outside. “The earring shaped like a flower.”

You know he was with her tonight - you don’t tell him that you know this because you looked through his phone this morning. You’re ashamed of it. 

He seems struck dumb, so you take the earring out of your pocket and toss it on the table. 

He looks at the jewelry and you look at him. 

“S’not anyone important. Just a chick I deal to sometimes.” He finally manages, and his voice is calm and even even though you can see the stress in his face.  

“You should give it back to her.” You say, and you know you’re being cruel, but it doesn’t matter. You watch him pick up the earring and tuck it into his back pocket. 

He shifts his weight on his feet, and it’s so odd seeing Fez uncomfortable. You’d loved how laidback and confident and steady he was. Now he looks like you’re pricking him with needles. 

“Is there something I should know that you haven’t told me? About your friend?” You ask. 

“We kissed once, we were high.” He says it slow and low, like maybe the faint buzz of the fridge will swallow up the words. 

“Why are you so upset, then?”

“Cause I regret it.” He says, practically whispering. He swallows. “Ionno, I didn’t tell you cause it was dumb.”

“I’m not stupid, Fez. How long have you been sleeping with her?”

He stares at you, and you stare right back. You can see it in his eyes, the moment he’s decided to give up on lying. 

“We had sex three or four times, I can’t remember. It was nothing.”

Three or four times. 

You’ve never experienced this. You’ve seen it happen to friends, strangers, even celebrities. But not you. It’s like it never occurred to you this could happen to you. That he could do this to you. 

The worst part is you can’t trust if he’s being honest. It could’ve been many, many times. But what does it matter? Even one time is way too many. 

“You kiss her and then you have the balls to kiss me? You fuck her and then you dare to even look at me?”

“Baby…”

“You like getting your dick wet, is that it?” You spit out, your voice as mean as it’s ever been. 

“I fucked up. I’m sorry.” He says, and it does nothing to comfort you. 

What surprises you is not the nausea or the heartbreak. You’d expected that. The surprising part is the humiliation you feel. Marrow deep humiliation. 

Did they laugh at you? Laugh at how stupid and trusting you were? Roll their eyes when you called and he refused to pick up because he was with her?

You wonder if they fuck in his bed, or just in the car. If he touches her the way he touches you or holds her like he holds you. Laughs with her like he laughs with you. If he -

“Are you in love with her?”

“Fuck no.” He shakes his head. “It’s always been you.” 

You bite your tongue, literally. Push your teeth into the flesh of your tongue and press down, and tell yourself to relax. 

“How long have you been seeing her? Be honest.”

He sighs. 

“A couple months.”

“I’m going home.” You announce, and he watches you stand. 

You reach the door and half expect him to ask you to stay, but when you glance back at the last second you see he’s too ashamed to take another step. 

When he calls you the next day, you answer, even though you shouldn’t and you know that. 

“Hello?”

“What is it?” You answer, which is very dignified of you since really you wanted to say Fuck you. 

“Listen, I was wondering if we could talk?”

“Talk about what?”

“I know you’re mad, and you’re right to be. But I really gotta talk with you.”

When you walk through the door to Fez’s place, it’s unnervingly quiet. 

Fez opens the door and you crane your neck to look through the window in the kitchen. 

“Where’s Ash?” 

“Asked him to go hang with one of his little friends. So we can have some privacy and all that.”

“Right.”

You’re on a mission to be unflappable tonight. When you sit on the sofa, though, you remember the times Fez has kissed you here. The way he’d touch you and tell you he loved you. 

Fez sits next to you and you focus on the table in front of you. 

“What did you want to say to me?”

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You look at him, then, and you hate how sincere he looks. You hate that you believe him. 

“You said that already.”

“I gotta say it again. You know I would never want to hurt you.”

The corner of your mouth tugs a bit, and you don’t know if you're about to frown or laugh. 

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

He nods. 

“I know I fucked up.”

“Did you know while you were doing it, or only when you got caught?”

“The whole time.”

You laugh.

“Obviously, or you wouldn’t have tried to hide it.”

He sighs and looks down at the table like you did moments ago. 

“If you knew it was fucked up, why’d you keep doing it? Why do it at all?”

“I don’t really know, to be honest with you.”

The living room is dim and growing dimmer by the second. Sunset is coming and it just makes you think about how nights belonged to you and Fezco. It felt sacred, the hours spent together between sunset and sunrise. 

“Were you lonely?” 

Your voice cracks and it surprises you, and then you feel your throat close up but you swallow it down. 

“No. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

He swears under his breath. 

“Was she there when you needed her and I wasn’t?”

He looks at you again, and you cut him off right as he opens his mouth. 

“I’m not being sarcastic.” You inhale shakily. “I’m seriously asking.”

He licks his lips and you want so badly to kiss him and open your eyes to find this was all a horrible nightmare. 

“No. She was just convenient.”

You feel a pang of almost-pity for her, whoever she is. 

“Convenient for what? Sex? Affection? Companionship?”

He sighs, at a loss for words. 

“Did you like it better with her?” You ask. Childishly you add, “Is she prettier than me?” 

“Nah. It’s not about that.”

“Then what the fuck is it about? Give me a reason for why you cheated on me, Fez.”

“It started -“ He cuts himself off, frustration coloring his face. He’s usually so thoughtful before speaking that he basically never gets like this. “It started after that stupid fucking fight we had. I was pissed and I was pretty sure you were gonna dump me. And this girl I deal to called me to drop off some weed and pills. I felt fuckin’ alone and I just thought “Fuck it.” But then we didn’t break up. And I didn’t stop.”

“I made you feel alone?”

“No. This shit ain’t your fault, okay? It’s on me.”

“Fuck. Why are we even talking about this?”

You stand up, agitated to the core, and pace to the other side of the table. 

You look at him and he half shrugs, half shakes his head, like he doesn’t know how else to express his confused feelings. 

“I don’t want to lose you.”

The tears come hot and fast, all at once, breaking through the dam in your throat and your heart and your eyes. Vaguely, you see the blurry colors and shapes of Fez get up and come closer. 

Then you feel his arms around you and smell his soap and cologne and skin and the heat of his body. 

“D’you still love me?” He asks, his voice fearful and tender. You cover your face with your hands, caged in his arms. 

“I wish I didn’t, then it wouldn’t hurt so much.” You say. 

He smooths one hand down your spine, again and again. Soothing. You pull your hands away from your face and stare at the crook of his neck and shoulder to keep from looking him in the face. 

“I want to fucking kill you.” You admit. 

“Yeah.” His voice is tight. 

When you look up, you see the tears weighing down his lashes. A couple are scattered on his face, rolling slowly. 

He can’t take seeing you cry. He never could. 

“I love you.” He says, and when you look in his eyes and think about how beautiful they are, you can’t help but wonder if the other girl felt the same. 

“You hurt me.”

“Tell me how to fix it.”

You choke out a bitter laugh, your mouth and eyes wet and exhausted. 

“You won’t ever do this again?” You ask, and he let’s go of you to hold your face in both hands. His touch is soft. 

“Never.” He says. 

You put your hands on the back of his neck, and he gets the picture when you stretch up on your toes. He meets you halfway with so much ferocity it surprises you. 

The kiss is salted by the tears that had slipped into your mouths. It’s a warm kiss, and you feel like a leaf that’s trembling in a breeze. 

You break the kiss and look at his lashes fanning on his cheeks before he opens his eyes. His nose and mouth and the way his skin is flushed and pale all at once from the emotions flooding him. You probably look strange, too. 

“I don’t trust you. Now I know how well you lie.” You whisper. He shakes his head but you don’t let that stop you. “How can I be sure of anything you say? If I take you back, what’s stopping you from doing it again?”

You wish saying these things made you feel empowered. 

“I’ll prove it to you.”

“I don’t want to live like that, without trust. That’s no way to love a person.”

A few more tears escape the net of Fez’s lashes, landing on his cheeks. You wipe them away and he doesn’t close his eyes. 

You want to say goodbye, but it feels stupid. You’re going to be seeing him at every party, in every dark corner of town. You’ll probably still be smoking his weed even if you don’t buy it from him. You’ll spark a blunt and he will fill your mouth, you think. 

You gather up your courage and pick up your bag and open the door. 

You’re at the bottom of the stairs when Fez follows you. 

You hear the door creak and slam shut a second time and you can’t resist the urge to look back. Fez is at the top of the stairs, and when your eyes catch his he walks down towards you. You take a step backwards. 

“I love you.”

“Love isn’t enough.” You bite out. “I would have never done this to you.”

He lurches forward and you return his embrace this time when he holds you. You tuck your nose against the warmth of his skin, and you take it all in. The smell of his soap and cologne and laundry detergent. The rhythm of his pulse, the heat of his arms and hands around you. His stomach and chest rising and falling against your body with each breath. You squeeze your arms around his middle. You say goodbye to all of it. 

You pull away and your eyes flicker to his pink, perfect mouth for a moment. 

You hear something then - hesitant, light footsteps approaching. Ashtray. 

“Should I walk away, or will you?” You ask. 

“I’m not goin’ nowhere.” He answers, and the desperation in his voice makes you sick. 

You place your hands on his chest and push him away slowly. 

“It’s finished.” You say, and you leave, walking away in the opposite direction of Ash’s footsteps. 

[rafescoke]

Brother’s Best Friend ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: heyy I’ve recently found your account and I just felt in love with the way you write and with your works so I was wondering if you could write a fic where the reader is Kelce’s sister, she’s sitting alone at home and suddenly she hears a doorbell ringing, she comes to open the door and that’s Rafe and she says something like “Kelce’s not home” or smth like that and Rafe answers “I actually came to see you” or smth like that. It can be smut or fluff or whatever I don’t really care. Sorry if this is chaotic but I just want the reader to be black and I have bad ideas lmao 😭 sending love ❤️❤️

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Fooling around with your best friend's sister is not a good sign, especially when it involves something more than skinny dipping and drinking alcohol together.

Warnings: Slight smut, mentions of drinking, slight angst, teasing Rafe Cameron

A/N: I'm so close to 700 followers wtf y'all are truly amazing ily! I'm finishing all requests in my inbox for the new few days; thank you to those who put their trust in me to write their ideas <33

(Y/N) could never deny the attraction she felt towards a certain brunette boy with that charming smile.

The feeling evolved for the first time when he came over to her house to see Kelce. He was so polite to her; giving her a turn on passing the ball and scolding Kelce and Topper for not wanting to give her a chance at playing basketball in the swimming pool.

But she was only 8 back then, and she regarded the feeling as nothing more than a silly crush.

Rafe Cameron changed when he entered high school. (Y/N) couldn't explain what was wrong, but he was not her Rafe anymore. He didn't hold the door for her, scold Kelce for making fun of her or do anything that used to make her heart soar.

Her thoughts were disrupted when a fresh blue towel hit her squarely on the face, causing her to yelp in shock.

"Do you wanna come down to the lake with us?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, pulling the towel to her side, and closed her magazine with a snap. Her eyes fell back to the three guys, lingering on the tallest one a little bit too long.

She cleared her throat, "No, I'm tired."

Kelce shrugged, walking towards the entrance of their home from the swimming pool. He didn't feel like having (Y/N) around anyways, because that would mean he would have to protect her from his friends.

Kelce loved his friends, of course, but he also knew the other side of them that uses girls like Kleenex tissue only to throw them away again.

"On a second thought-" (Y/N) said, stopping the three boys from entering the big house. "I think I'll go."

"You sure?" Kelce asked. God. Now he would have to play the big-brother stimulator for the whole night.

The night sky was dark, and the only light came from the moonlight up above and sometimes from the flashlight of each other's phone. Boozes laid messily on the wooden deck and their clothes were discarded all over the place.

Not one person was sober, and they were all laughing to a joke by Topper.

"Okay, okay, last one-" Topper said excitedly. He shivered, and (Y/N) thought about it as a response towards the cold lake water or the excited nerves of sharing another stupid joke. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"

"Easy. To get to the other side," Rafe answered proudly. A beer drop slid down from his lips to his chin, and (Y/N) felt a strong desire to lick it.

"Wrong."

"Okay, fine, I don't know."

Topper smiled widely, and (Y/N) could see this joke coming from a few miles away. "To get to the loser's house. Knock knock."

Rafe pulled a face, his eyebrows raised. "Who's there?"

"The chicken."

Kelce and Topper's laugh filled the silence around them, and (Y/N) found herself slightly smiling at the joke. Rafe groaned, finally understanding the joke and being angry at himself for willingly taking the bait.

"Okay, okay. The joke's over."

Kelce laughed again before taking a full swig of another beer bottle. He stared at the sky, and let out a loud huff.

"Wish we can go up there."

"Me too, man," Topper agreed. He joined Kelce by staring up at the dark sky, both clearly high out of their minds.

"Do you want to?"

(Y/N) looked to her side, not noticing Rafe who had moved from his previous position near Topper to beside her. She quirked her head to one side, her face questioning.

"Go up to the sky," he explained. He watched as she looked up to the sky, her mouth slightly parting. Her chest heaved peacefully, and her wet body donning the lilac bikini never looked so beautiful and perfect.

"Nah. I'm too scared."

"Even when I'll go with you?" he smiled. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, though her heart was soaring brightly; she would never feel scared anymore if he were to be around her all the time.

"Yeah. Even when you’ll go with me. Besides, it's not possible."

"Let people enjoy things," he said, and he was so close to her now because she could smell the coffee mint from his breath. Her heart was beating wildly, though this would be the ten-thousandth time he did this to her.

It never failed to leave her completely breathless.

"You're drooling," he whispered, and used his thumb to wipe her wet lips from the beer. Her breath hitched, and she couldn't utter any words back. She was too mesmerised with the whole situation.

His fingers stopped at her chin, looking into her eyes, and he was petrified too. He leaned in, but before anything could happen, (Y/N) moved away. He cleared his throat, and swam back to the deck.

‘I’m drunk’ was repeated by him all the way to the the place he threw his clothes off, shaking his head at the thought that he was so close to kissing her. He looked back to her direction in the lake, still staring at him. He focused back on the ties of his shorts, and made his way back to the Kelce’s house.

He ignored his best friends calls.

. . .

(Y/N) never really liked school, but she loved the after-activity that she got herself in.

Like cheerleading.

She used to think of the sport as something quirky, but in truth, once she was accepted into the school’s cheerleading team, she had never been more into a sport than before.

She walked down the field to the other side of the track where the other girls were waiting for her. Her training skirt flew slightly from the wind, and she was trying to hold them down all while carrying the water bottle and a duffle bag.

She exchanged a few greetings with her other friends, putting down her duffle bag and her water bottle. The sun was scorching hot, and all she felt like was eating ice cream inside of their boat whilst streaming down the lake, but the last time she had ditched cheer practice, it hadn’t ended well.

“Uh-oh,” someone exclaimed behind her. “Big bro is coming.”

(Y/N) looked up to the field, and sure enough Kelce was running towards her in his jersey. (Y/N) sighed, not knowing what she did now that could earn her a lecture from Kelce.

“Hey, I’m bringing a girl home after practice,” he said. “Would you mind getting a ride with someone else?”

She groaned, “Fuck, Kelce, no. You can tell your new scandal to fuck off because I am not getting an Uber to walk back to home.”

“Look, please? You can ask your friends to give you a ride, right? It’s important,” he begged. His eyes were scanning her friends now, obviously trying to find someone who could help his sister, and when he found one, his smile quirked upwards. “Yo, Sarah! Can you drive (Y/N) home after practice?”

Sarah walked towards them, her blonde hair up in a ponytail. She slung her arms around (Y/N)’s shoulders, noting the exasperated expression on her face, and gave Kelce a glare.

“You should let her drive a car if you’re going to bring a girl home after school,” she said. Kelce groaned, knowing the amount of shit he will be getting from the people around him, but he was truly trying to make it right for this new girl.

“Look, I’ll buy y’all anything for a week. Food? Sure. Clothes? Sure.”

Sarah clapped her hands, seemingly excited, and forced (Y/N) to say yes. She wouldn’t mind driving (Y/N) home, because she wanted to catch up with her about some gossip too.

“Fine. But I’m driving my own car tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” was all he said before he jogged down to the soccer team.

That evening was hell to (Y/N). She couldn’t get the formation right, the sun was getting hotter and hotter, her hair was sticking out weirdly, and worst of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday’s event.

He was so, so close to her.

“(Y/N), come on! What’s gotten into you? The top part, again!” The coach yelled, slapping her hands against her lap. There were sweat forming on her forehead, and she was obviously hot and bothered from this whole situation.

But sport was sport. The coach wasn’t going to let today’s training to waste, and she intended for the new number to work.

(Y/N) muttered a soft ‘sorry’ before going back to her position, her heart still thumping at the thought. The cheer started, and her mouth was saying the words, but her brain was somewhere else.

The two guys by her side picked her up by her calf, and she felt the wind gushing out from beside her ears. She was high up in the sky now, throwing one arm upwards and balancing herself on one leg, and it was finally time now, to twirl into the two boys’ arms, but she wasn’t ready. Her mouth didn’t utter any words from the cheer, too focused on the step, and before she could jump back into their arms, she felt herself slipping.

“(Y/N)!” The coach yelled, running towards her by the track. Sarah and the other teammates were surrounding her now, watching as she groaned on the ground painfully, holding onto her arms.

“Okay, I take that as the end of today’s training,” the coach said, sighing. “(Y/N), are you okay? Can you walk?”

(Y/N) held her thumbs up, because she had worse injury than this before. Hell, the boxing fight she used to have with Kelce in their childhood was more painful. She sat up from the track, feeling the heat of the ground burning on her bottoms, and stretched her fingers. The pain coursed through her veins at the feeling, but kinda liked it.

“Come on, let’s get you home,” Sarah said, helping her up. She groaned when she finally stood on her two feet, feeling so painful all she wanted to do was lay back on the track, but she knew she had to go home.

She allowed Sarah helping her limp towards a black Mercedes, her eyes closed the whole time.

Okay, scratch the fight with Kelce. This one was more painful than ever.

“Can I stay at your house?” She blurted when Sarah drove out of the school gate. “I don’t feel like listening to my mom’s lecture about my leg.”

Sarah glanced at her from the rearview mirror, watching as she spread her leg out the whole backseat. The ice bag someone had gotten her was pressed against her calf, and she was sweating from the heat and trying to contain the pain.

“Yes, of course, that would be better,” Sarah said. She had other plans that evening, but helping (Y/N) overstepped all of them.

“So what’s up with you and John B?”

Sarah turned to look at her fully on her face, furrowing her eyebrows. “What do you know about John B?”

(Y/N) laughed, “The light’s green.” Just on cue, the car behind them horned at Sarah, and she quickly pushed on the pedal.

“How do you know about John B?” Sarah asked, biting her lips. If (Y/N) could find out, she couldn’t imagine what would Rafe do if he finds out.

“God, don’t be worried. I’m not going to tell anyone about this, okay? Just relax. I think it’s cute.”

Sarah’s worried expression softened, “You think so?”

“Yeah. At least you got to be with whoever you want. Some people can’t have that.”

Like her. Kelce would kill her and dump her body in the ocean for the sharks if he ever finds out how much she likes Rafe.

“You’ll find the one soon. How about that guy in your maths class?” The car turned to the right, nearing the destination.

“No. I’m not looking for anyone.”

There’s only one, but Sarah won’t like the answer.

The time was 8.23p.m. now, and (Y/N) had been in Sarah’s room for a total of 3 hours. After catching up on new gossips, watched a movie, did her English essay, she felt extremely dehydrated.

Sarah was sleeping peacefully beside her, being so tired after the practice and school, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like waking her up. She have been to The Camerons household, but that was only for Sarah’s birthday party a few years back.

She sighed, getting up from the bed to find the kitchen. The house was like a maze, and she wished they had some kind of a map to browse through.

Alas, she found the kitchen, her muscles screaming from all the wrong turns she took before. She knew where the plastic cups and plates were situated, having to help Sarah get them during her birthday party, so she didn’t have any trouble getting some.

She drank the cold water quickly, feeling the liquid sloshing down her throat. The feeling was so, so good that she wished she could go through it again.

“I do not know where your sister is, Kelce,” a voice sighed not far from the kitchen. “I told you you shouldn’t bring that girl home and just drive (Y/N) home yourself.”

The voice, unmistakably Rafe, was getting nearer and nearer. (Y/N)’s eyes widened, trying to find an empty space to hide in, but there were none. She panicked, still looking for a way out that she didn’t notice the tall figure behind her.

“Oh. Found you.”

His hair was dishevelled and wet, his chest heaving and he was shirtless.

What a nice way to bump onto each other.

“Take a picture,” he started, shutting his phone off and placing them in his shorts. “It’ll last longer that way.”

Now we’re talking about the new Rafe.

(Y/N) scoffed, pushing him away and making a disgusted face at his sweat sticking on her arms. “I’m here for Sarah.”

“Why? Did she die or something?”

God. He really is insufferable.

She made to push him away to return to Sarah’s room, only for him to grab her by her waist.

“Move.” Her tone was stern, but her stomach was flipping wildly. She tried to not look so bothered, but failed miserably.

Rafe seemed to notice her behaviour because he didn’t let go of her. “Come on, where’s the fun in that?”

She was on the same level as his neck now, and he could still smell his expensive cologne even after he swam in the swimming pool. She sighed, placing her hands against his chest.

“Move.”

Rafe laughed, putting his hands up in defeat, and went to grab the same glass she was drinking from. He refilled the glass and downed the content, and (Y/N) had to look away from the innocent move.

Maybe he was just saving water by not using a different cup.

“Do you need help to return to Sarah’s room or something?”

“No, I’m fine,” she refused, and made sure he could see her fake annoyed expression before she returned to the hall she came from. But there were 2 halls now, and she completely forgot which one she had been before.

“Really?” Rafe stood beside her, and she looked up to his amused face. “Because you’re in the wrong hall. It’s the other exit of the kitchen, darling.”

. . .

Why couldn’t she not see his face every single day?

It was truly troubling her, to see that boy everyday, because she couldn’t think properly every time.

The lights from the stadium blared widely, and the deafening screaming coming from both teams’ supporters rang throughout the whole field. (Y/N) was sure the whole island could hear them too.

Two things happened earlier than evening. Number one, her skirt wasn’t completely dried after being sent off to the laundry for a week, and her hair wasn’t just cooperating.

So here she was; in a shorter uniform skirt, her hair hung up into a ponytail with lots of hairspray. She wished for nothing but to be all cuddled up with her blanket in her room.

“You’re okay?” Sarah asked. She fixed (Y/N)’s lips gently, getting the lipstick and lipliner even, and gave her a kiss on the cheeks. “Don’t worry about the skirt. It looks normal.”

For a little girl.

(Y/N) sighed and involuntarily pulled down the hem of her skirt. Ten minutes from the game now, and she was nervous she would flash everyone on the school compound.

In the locker room, Rafe was sitting right next to Kelce as his best friend prayed for a win tonight. He was never that religious, and he didn’t feel the need to mutter a prayer to anyone. But tonight, he listened intently to whatever Kelce was saying because he needed to win this cup more than anything in the world.

“You’re okay?” The coach asked, patting him on the shoulder.

“Yeah. Just nervous.”

“Don’t be, you’re the Star Player. Right?”

The Star Player.

Rafe gave him a smile, and went back to his praying.

When he first entered the field to meet the rival team, his eyes couldn’t help but scanned the bleachers to find his dad. Ward wasn’t there, but Rose and Wheezie were cheering for him.

Of course.

He sighed, and went straight to the middle of the field. It’s funny how everyone was there to support him, Rafe, the Star Player, the jock, the whatever else people were saying about him.

He just wanted Ward to see him.

“Come on, man, it’s fine,” Topper said, patting his back. “He’ll come later.”

Even his friends could see how miserable he was feeling.

The first match of the game went smoothly; he scored a try goal, everyone was cheering loudly, but it was just then that one of the opponents came knocking Rafe by his side.

Rafe fell to the ground with a loud thud, earning so many gasps from the stand.

“What the fuck?!” Topper pushed whoever responsible for his fall, and the sound of a whistle rang throughout the air. “He pushed him for nothing! You saw it, fuck!”

Rafe groaned on the ground, clutching onto his arms, and he tried to spread his fingers, but couldn’t. His other teammates were surrounding him now, trying to get a good look of him, all while Topper and Kelce and another friend of his went off to the referee.

Rafe put his other hand up, trying to sit up. “I’m fine, I’m fine! Move!”

The other members scattered away, sighing in relief when Rafe came back to his legs. The referee, still getting yelled at by Topper, shook his head at something he said, and before anyone could process what happened, Topper tackled the opponent who had pushed Rafe down to the ground.

Kelce pulled Topper away after a few long seconds, telling him to stop. But one thing about Topper is that he just won’t stop.

“Stupid fuck!” He yelled, throwing another punch.

“Topper, stop, they’re going to throw you off the field!” Kelce yelled. Finally, he separated them away after the opponent’s friend pulled his injured friend away.

The referee, expectedly, pulled a red card to Topper, earning a groan coming from their coach and the stand. Rafe cursed, knowing that Topper’s one of their strongest member. He watched as Topper tried to argue with the referee, but it was no use.

“It’s okay,” Kelce said, patting his back as he made his way back to the bench. “Relax, bro, okay?” Topper calmed down after the coach said something to him, but Rafe could clearly see the distress written on his face.

“You’re okay?” Kelce asked, pointing to his arms.

Rafe could move his muscles now though he could feel the sharp pain from doing so. But he was too content on winning this game.

(Y/N) watched as the second match unfold, her teeth biting into her lips in fear. She didn’t feel like having the next week full of gloomy students and disappointed teachers, so she wanted the cup as much as everyone else.

Rafe was fast, throwing the ball smoothly back and forth with Kelce and his other friends, but it was apparent that the Star Player wasn’t feeling like himself.

It might be the arm, or the fact that Ward Cameron was too busy with his work to see his son playing.

37 minutes had passed, and the other team was leading. They only had 3 minutes left, and with the team being so drained out and their captain with a broken arm, it was clear who was winning.

The whistle blared through the field again, noting the end of the match. As the other team supporters cheered happily the other side of the stands muttered silently to each other about the game.

(Y/N) watched as Rafe yelled something at his teammates angrily before storming off to the locker room. He winced in pain, holding his arm for support, and ignored every calls from his friends as he made his way to the empty room.

Looking around quickly, she muttered a ‘be right back’ to Sarah, and quickly followed Rafe into the locker room. She wanted to see if he was okay, and if he needed help with his arm.

In truth, she just wanted to be there for him.

“Hey,” she slowly said, and Rafe’s head perked up to see her before he looked down to the ground again.

“What do you want?”

She felt a struck of pain across her heart at his tone, but decided against it. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I was just trying to see if you need anything,” she said, and when his eyes finally looked up to her again, she unconsciously pulled her skirt down again.

“Yeah? I don’t need anything. Go!”

“Wow, you’re a dick,” she scoffed, and before Rafe could mutter anything back, she exited the locker room and straight to the cheer team. She felt a mixture of anger and embarrassment all at once, because God, Rafe Cameron did not just yell at her for trying to be nice.

She should’ve known better than to be ‘nice’ to him. He wasn’t the same 8 year old she met 10 years ago.

. . .

A week had passed from the game, and everything went back to normal.

Except for one person.

Rafe didn’t come to school the next Monday, not that (Y/N) wanted to see him after getting yelled at, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

He didn’t just broke his arm; his father also chose not to attend his game.

It was finally Friday, and (Y/N) was too happy to stay home and continue watching Love Island. Life is better when you are focused on someone else’s relationship other than yours.

She was rolling in her bed, casually smiling at the cheesy joke made by one of the contestant, and before she could hear the reply towards the joke, the doorbell blared throughout the house.

(Y/N) groaned, thinking how Kelce must’ve forgotten his keys again, and waited a few more minutes so that he would just leave her alone and go to that stupid prick, Rafe Cameron’s house.

But the doorbell rang again, and she had no choice but to open the door. She was all alone in the big house, having both her parents still working and her maids having the day off.

But when she opened the door, the boy standing before her was the last person she wanted to see.

“Hi,” Rafe said.

“Kelce’s not here,” she mumbled, and pushed the door close. Rafe’s quickly put his hands to block the door from closing, and (Y/N) pulled away after deciding not to crush his other only working hands.

“What?” She asked, in the same tone that he had given her in the locker room. She felt good when his eyebrows were raised.

“I’m here for you.”

“Why? Did I die or something?” Bingo.

“God, you’re impossible,” Rafe sighed. “Can I talk to you? Just us two?”

(Y/N) sighed, wanting to get this done, and opened the door wider to grant him into her home. (Y/N) closed the door and pressed her back against it, crossing her arms.

“Okay. Talk.”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He said. “I was just so angry with everything. I was pushed and Topper received a red card because of me—”

“You didn’t do anything, Rafe.”

“Yeah, but he was just trying to protect me. And, and I was just so mad at myself because I couldn’t play properly like I usually play. I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean it.”

(Y/N) sighed, “It’s okay. I’m over it.”

“Really?” He stepped closer, and this time, (Y/N) allowed him. “Thank you so much!”

He pulled her into a crushing hug, and before she could put her mind into it, he lifted her up and spin her around.

“Okay, okay, now you’re just pushing it,” she groaned, hitting him on his chest. “Put me down, Rafe, I swear to god.”

Rafe put her down, his face shining happily. They were close again, like that time in the lake, and (Y/N) didn’t feel like pushing him away again.

Because maybe, that 8 year old him was somewhere in there.

“Uh—” he looked away, scratching the back of his head. “Do you wanna. . . watch Netflix?”

(Y/N) cleared her throat, “I was watching Love Island. Wanna watch with me?”

Rafe nodded, anything to get closer with this girl, and followed her upstairs to her room. The first time he entered her room was 9 years ago, and it was only because Topper and Kelce had pranked him into thinking that her room was the gaming room.

“What are you doing?” The girl before him yelled, and before he could explain how he was lied to, she threw a pink hairbrush at him. He groaned from the pain, rubbing his head.

“I’m sorry, I thought this was the gaming room!”

“Out!” She yelled, and he quickly obliged.

Her room was still pink, but it was now filled with so many books, clothes and makeups instead of the dollhouse and toys he saw a few years ago.

“Is this the pink hairbrush you threw at me?” He laughed, holding the pink tool. (Y/N) snatched the hairbrush, embarrassed, and quickly stuffed them into the drawers.

He placed himself beside her on her bed, watching her as she resumed the video. He focused on the show, trying to find at least something interesting from the show, but there was nothing.

2 episodes later, he was too into the show that he pressed on the stop button before they could continue on the next episode.

“I wish they would just communicate,” he said. “Like the whole show’s pointless. They didn’t try to talk to each other about their problems.”

“Yeah, that’s what makes the show interesting, Rafe,” she said as if that was a fact, “And besides, if they communicate, everyone will win the show.”

“Then that’s just good. A win-win situation.”

“You don’t get it,” she groaned, looking into his face. “There’s no use in fighting with you about this.”

She pressed on the resume button again, and instantly, Rafe pressed on the stop button.

“Rafe, I will—”

“You still haven’t apologised for throwing the hairbrush at me.”

She widened her eyes, “That was 9 years ago.”

“And?”

“Fine,” she placed her laptop aside, and turned to fully look him in the face. “Sorry.”

“Not sincere enough.”

She groaned, “Rafe, I am terribly sorry for throwing my pink hairbrush at you. I am so sorry that it hit your face and be the reason why you’re still holding vengeance at someone.”

“I’m not talking about that kind of sorry.”

“Fuck, you’re annoying,” she said. “I’m not going to bow down to you or anything.”

“Just a kiss.”

She looked at him back, her heart stopping at his words. “No.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because you’re Rafe?”

“Rafe? Okay, fine. I’m not Rafe. I’m Rafael.”

“Okay, it’s still a no. You’re Kelce’s best friend.”

“Didn’t you kiss Topper last year?”

“That was a dare—” she sighed. “And it didn’t mean anything.”

“Exactly. This won’t mean anything. This is just a sorry.”

It would mean everything to her to place her lips against his.

“This is sexual harassment.”

“Not if you want it too,” he said, and leaned closer to her. “And you do want it, right? I can see it in your eyes.”

She didn’t know why God would put her and Rafe in this damn position over and over again, because it wasn’t helping her to get over him.

She looked down to his lips, and how it was so inviting, and she wanted more than anything to kiss him, to finally give herself to him, but she was afraid.

“Rafe—”

“Shut up,” he cut her off, and pressed himself against her. Their kiss was slow and passionate, none like neither (Y/N) or Rafe had experienced before. Her hands found themselves wrapping around Rafe’s neck, pulling him closer.

He pulled away, grinning. “I thought you didn’t want this.”

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes, and pulled him in for another kiss again.

He pushed her down onto the bed gently, still kissing her, and his hands were roaming down her body. She was so, so perfect and every time he saw her, he would have to look away to stop the unwanted thoughts forming in his head.

During the game last Friday, he had to pinch himself from staring at her legs in that goddamn skirt for too long.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered, and she hummed in response before pushing him over so she could take control. She sat on top of him, grinning widely. She was in heaven; seeing him all worked up under her with his chest heaving.

“You would be surprised at the amount of times I imagined myself on top of you like this,” she said, placing her hands flat on top of his chest.

Rafe grinned back, trying to contain his feelings. “Yeah? Wanna show what else you’ve been imagining?”

She leaned closer, making sure to brush her bottom against him and hearing his soft groans. She placed a soft kiss against his cheek, and whispered into his ear.

“Would rather have you show what you’ve been dreaming of me.”

Rafe licked his lips, loving this side of her, and he wanted more than anything to make her his. She looked so innocent sitting there on top of him, smiling and biting her lips.

Before he could touch her in ways he never did to a girl before, a voice rang from outside the room.

“(Y/N)? Have you seen Rafe? I saw his car outside,” the voice said. After a few seconds of silence, he sighed. “You’re okay? I’m coming in, okay?”

“No, no, wait!” (Y/N) shouted, scrambling from her position on top of Rafe as he quickly pulled her up, but it was too late.

Kelce saw them in the midst of trying to get away, with his sister’s leg on one side of his best friend and his best friend’s hands still around his sister’s waist.

“What. The. Fuck.”

-

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @pogueslandia 

[sourwulf]

howdy renee :) i was wondering if u could do smth where reader and isaac are trapped in a small room and he freaks out and scratches her on accident and then feels really bad?

༄  word count  —  735

፨  characters  —  isaac lahey

☓  tw  —  blood, injuries

⊹  cw  —  none

✎  masterlist

─

running from some sort of predator seemed to be how you spent most nights nowadays, considering you lived in beacon hills.

but tonight was not one of the nights you planned on doing that. you and isaac were leaving your house to go to dinner when stiles pulled up in his jeep, dragging the two of you to the school.

and now, in your high heels and dress, you were sprinting down the math hallway with isaac close behind, both of you being trailed by ethan and aiden. they’d merged into one being, making them massive.

as soon as you’d gotten away from them, isaac grabbed your wrist in the middle of you running and dragged you into a janitor’s closet, closing the door behind you.

you took the opportunity to kick your shoes off, setting them on a shelf. you finally caught your breath when you heard isaac’s pick up. you slowly looked over, seeing him looking at the floor and struggling to breathe.

“isaac? are you okay?” you reached over and placed your hand on his shoulder, which was quickly swatted away. the back of your wrist hit the shelf, and you shook it off.

“don’t touch me,” he grumbled, looking at you with glowing yellow eyes. you inched back as far as you could, feeling your heart pounding.

“why did you drag us in here? you hate small spaces.”

his ears slowly grew into points, and hair grew along his jaw. you reached up for the doorknob, but before you could open the door, you felt claws slash across your stomach.

your hand shot to your wound and isaac crashed through the door, sounds of footsteps disappearing down the hall. a few seconds later, you heard growling and fighting.

you struggled to pull yourself to your feet, stumbling out into the hall. you could see isaac fighting the larger morphed body of the twins. you pulled your hand from your stomach to see it was drenched in blood, groaning to yourself.

you felt someone turn you from behind and you were met with derek, who dragged you out of the school.

“we can’t just leave him,” you argued as he led you to his car.

“we’re not. scott is here.”

“they’ll get themselves killed.”

“and you’ll bleed out.”

you knew he was right. you had to leave and get help, or you’d die. you looked back at the school, hearing roars and whimpers echoing all the way outside.

—

you sat on the edge of the table and leaned back on your hands, wincing as derek bandaged you up. he’d given you a pair of his gym shorts, and you sat on the table in nothing but them and a bra.

“how deep is it?” you asked. you knew that if you were scratched deep enough, there was a possibility that it could turn you. that’s what happened with kate, and you were afraid it could happen to you.

“not very. not enough to turn you.”

you let out a sigh of relief. “thank god.”

“what happened?”

“we got stuck in a janitor’s closet he and freaked out.”

“yeah, he doesn’t like tight spaces.”

“clearly.” when he finished patching you up, he handed you a spare shirt of his, tossing your ripped dress in the trash. “that was my favorite dress, too.” you took in a sharp breath as you stood up, slipping on the shirt. it hung loose on your body, but it was better than nothing.

just then, the door slid open, a bloody and exhausted isaac standing there. he immediately ran over, helping you over to the couch. he sat on the coffee table in front of you.

“y/n, i’m so sorry.”

“it’s fine. i’m okay.”

he sighed. “i hurt you, i didn’t mean-”

“seriously, isaac, it’s okay.” you weren’t angry at him. you knew his dad ruined his ability to stay in small spaces, and it wasn’t his fault. “you don’t have to apologize. i’m not mad.”

“are you sure?”

you nodded. “maybe next time don’t pull us into a janitor’s closet and i’ll be fine.”

you both smiled, and he placed his hand on your knee.

“sorry we couldn’t do that date night.”

you shrugged. “we’ll just do it another night. i was tired anyways.”

he got to his feet and leaned forward to kiss you. “want me to take you home?”

“i’d love that,” you smiled.

[yoonpobs]

Miss pobbie i think i thought of the cutest prompt

How about heartthrob yoongi and new girl oc but like idk established relationship and oc requests that she explore the new college alone but then she forgot her lunch or smth so he fetches her during lunchtime and people are shookt but he doesnt care since he only has heart eyes for her HAHA i hope im making sense 🤧

im sorry this took so long omg 😳 i hope this does your prompt justice <3

Transferring halfway through the academic year was not an ideal situation for anyone, especially for you. You already struggled with assimilating into new environments and now you were forced to do that all over again? With petrifying college kids? No thank you.

But life goes on and here you were, lost and confused. It was your fault, really. You insisted on exploring the campus alone, the side of you that refused to give in to the wary look that the judgemental clerk man who suggested a guide for your first day.

If being lost in a foreign territory wasn't bad enough, you were starving. Forgetting your lunch wasn't odd for you, nor was it any groundbreaking news to people who knew you well enough—but your stomach definitely does resent you for it.

You sigh, strolling mindlessly through the square as you keep your eyes rooted to the ground so you weren't forced to acknowledge the crowd of students that surround you. Despite the internal panic you were experiencing, no one seemed to care about the lost girl wandering around the campus. It was like that in college, people minded their own business, had their own shit to deal with.

Your feet travel instinctively, unaware of where it was taking you as you quicken your steps—and really, you should've learned from your numerous fumbles throughout the course of your life, but old habits died hard. Your carelessness eventually sends you stumbling into a firm surface as you yelp at the impact.

"Oh my God—I'm so sorry—!"

"Hey," the voice returns coolly as your eyes dart up, wide and stunned. "Was looking for you."

From the corner of your eye, you're aware of a group of students stopping in their tracks as they gawk at your interaction.

"I-I was doing fine on my own," you huff, blowing a strand of hair out of your vision as you turn your face away indignantly.

"Never said you weren't," he raises a brow before he's shoving a bag into your grasp. "Here."

"What's this?"

"Lunch," he says simply.

You immediately flush, and at the same time—you hear hushed whispers by your side. You know exactly what they're talking about even if you couldn't hear the contents of their conversation. You were a little dense, not unperceptive. This was why you insisted on exploring alone.

"I had my lunch already," you lie.

Yoongi nods unconvincingly before he sighs, reaching out towards your bag strap as you immediately dodge his hands. He shoots you a dry look as you stick your tongue out at him in response.

"Let me help you," he says.

"No," you retort petulantly, "I'm a big girl."

"A big girl who forgot her lunch," he reminds gently as you scowl.

"Not now," you hiss, suddenly hyperaware of the girl that passes you with her eyes ogling the person in front of you more so than you, immediately leaning to her friend and whispering into their ear.

"Baby," he says blandly and you briefly hear a person choke next to you.

"God—say that louder, will you?" you snap.

"Baby," he increases his volume as you clamp a hand over his mouth while he shoots you a blank stare.

"Yoongi," you grit, "Did you forget that we're in public?"

"No," he returns easily, "did you forget that I'm your boyfriend?"

"He has a girlfriend?"

Your face falls as you attempt to tug him aside, but Yoongi remains rooted in position as he sighs; as if you were the inconvenience.

"N-No—I just—I didn't want to make things weird," you whine, stomping your feet childishly as a small and fond smile makes its way to Yoongi's face.

"You're weird," he says as you pout at him. The look he gives you is nothing short of gentle, especially when he manages to slip your bag off your shoulder and lug it over his own. "Come, I'll show you around."

You're still flustered at the eyes on the two of you. You knew that this would happen—Yoongi was Yoongi and you ... well, you were the new girl. And Yoongi's always been the aloof, mysterious heartthrob. You didn't blame their reaction.

"You got me strawberry sandwiches," you beam up at him excitedly.

He chuckles softly before he nods.

Just as you were about to go off about the wonderfulness of the sandwich and how you were excited to sink your teeth into it—Yoongi extends his free hand out, palm facing upwards as you stare at it owlishly.

"W-What?"

"What," he smiles teasingly, "new girl's too good to hold her boyfriend's hand?"

You flush, ears turning red as you immediately snatch his waiting hand so that he wouldn't make a show out of it. Your head ducks down to avoid the gawking from the other students on campus as the whispers get exponentially louder.

"You're so dumb," you mumble, especially when he intertwines your fingers together.

"Love you too," he says softly as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

You swear you see a boy walk into a pole.

[kookiesjoonies]

first & last | jjk.

↠ main pairing: best friend!jungkook x virgin!reader

↠ fic type: one shot, friends to lovers

↠ genre: smut

↠ word count: 4.2k

↠ warnings: alcohol consumption (they aren’t drunk, just a lil tipsy), explicit language, dry humping, finger sucking, light dirty talk, hand job, cum play

↠ summary: during a game of never have i ever, jungkook finds out that you haven’t had your first kiss yet and decides to show you how it’s done. 

a/n: eeeeep! i’m so happy to finally have smth up for jk again bc it’s been awhile n we all know i’m whipped for this man. enjoy! feedback is always appreciated. xo

Drunken sleepovers with your best friend were your favorite. You were lying on the floor of Jungkook’s living room, the world’s thinnest blanket underneath you to act as a barrier between your back and the hard surface of the floor. 

He laid to your left, nursing a bottle of cheap beer while you sipped red wine from your glass. When the two of you were buzzed, the urge to play drinking games always hit hard. You were thankful he seemed to enjoy them as much as you did, because you were always able to be your genuine, goofy self around him without fear of being judged. 

Tonight’s game of choice was never have I ever— a classic, one that you wish you’d played more. Hearing all of Jungkook’s embarrassing tales always made you laugh to the point of tears, big belly laughs that caused you to wheeze. 

“Alright, alright. I’ve got one,” he spoke up, causing you to tilt your head to look over at him, “never have I ever told someone they were a good kisser and didn’t mean it.” 

You watched as your friend brought the bottle up to his lips and took a swig, insinuating that he had, in fact, done just that. 

When you didn’t drink from your wine glass, his eyebrow cocked and he stared down at you in disbelief. 

“Come on, Y/n. Sure you have!” 

You shrugged, giving him a quick shake of your head. 

“Nope.” Your answer was simple— too simple, which left Jungkook even more intrigued than he was to begin with. 

He didn’t believe you, not by a long shot. But he should’ve. Seeing as how you’d never even kissed anyone, let alone lied about whether they were a good kisser. 

Being in your twenties and having never been on a real date, or held anyone’s hand (other than your friends’, but of course, that was different), or had your first kiss wasn’t exactly the coolest thing. 

You’d wanted to experience such things, but no one that had come into your life so far had been worthy enough. 

Except for one person— the man that was currently staring at you with his round, beautiful doe eyes. You wanted to kick your own ass for thinking of Jungkook in such a way. He was your best friend, nothing more. And you weren’t about to ruin all of that and everything that the two of you had because of your feelings.

“So, what? Everyone that you’ve ever kissed has been exceptional?” His tone let you know that he thought you were full of shit. 

“Kind of have to be kissed in order to confirm or deny that.” You mumbled, voice barely even audible. 

The wine was making you brave, it seemed. You weren’t drunk enough to not realize what you’d said, but you weren’t sober enough to care. 

Jungkook noticeably choked on his beer he’d been drinking, bringing the back of his hand up to wipe at the liquid gathering on the corners of his mouth. 

“What did you just say?” 

You sighed, sitting up and leaning your back to rest against the bottom of the sofa behind you. 

“It’s not that big of a deal, Kook.” 

“Uhm, yeah it is!” He exclaimed, and your eyes rolled in response. 

“No, it isn’t.” You snapped back, wishing the conversation was done and over with already. 

“Can I ask why you’ve never been kissed? I mean— has the opportunity never presented itself, or have you just been waiting for the right person or something?” 

He wasn’t going to let it go, it seemed. So, you twirled around the red liquid in your cup, staring down at it to avoid eye contact with your best friend. Though, you could feel his chocolate eyes burning into you, and you were sure if you glanced over at him he’d be staring at you with wide eyes. 

“I’ve had a few opportunities, but I just… I don’t know? I don’t want just anyone to kiss me. I want it to mean something, to be from someone special.” 

You felt your cheeks begin to heat up, and you were internally cursing yourself. 

“Plus,” you said, after a few seconds of awkward silence had passed, “I don’t even know how to kiss, so, I’ve always been nervous.” 

Without skipping a beat, Jungkook’s voice was filling your ears again. 

“I’ll teach you.” 

Your eyes shot up to meet his, and you were sure the shock was apparent all over your features. Jungkook, however, seemed oddly calm. 

“Uhm, thank you? But we’re best friends, it could make things weird—“ 

He cut you off with a shake of his head, “Nope, our friendship is solid. A little kiss isn’t going to ruin it.” 

You worried at your lower lip, pondering the thought and weighing out the pros and cons. 

You’d always dreamed about what his lips would feel like against yours, you were sure he’d be a skilled kisser. The thought of his hands being in your hair while your mouths moved together in heated passion, or better yet, his hands on your ass— yeah, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. 

Or maybe it was the worst idea. Either way, you were about to find out. 

“Okay.” You nodded, setting your nearly empty glass to the side. 

“Really?” His eyes widened, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling.

“Yeah, but I’d hurry before I change my mind.” 

Jungkook didn’t need to be told twice. He’d been hoping and praying that one day this day would come, and now that it finally had, he was determined to give you the best damn kiss of your life. 

And it made it even better knowing that he was going to be the first person to ever touch your lips with their own. Maybe he wanted to be the first and the only. No, he definitely wanted to be the first and the only. 

“Come here.” He patted his lap, and you quickly caught on. 

Maybe straddling your best friend should’ve felt awkward, but this didn’t. This felt… right.

His large hands found their way onto the sides of your face, effectively cupping your cheeks. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, and you prayed that he wouldn’t be able to hear how loudly your heart was thumping against your chest. 

“Is this okay?” You whispered, referring to the way your arms were resting atop his shoulders. 

He nodded, flashing you that gorgeous bunny-like smile of his. Suddenly, you felt a sense of calm. All of your nerves were now replaced with adrenaline and excitement. It was amazing how quickly he was able to calm you down just with one toothy grin. 

“Yeah, it’s perfect.” he assured you, rubbing the pads of his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks, “just follow my lead, yeah?” 

“Yes, sir.” You teased, and he chuckled. 

His eyes fell shut, and so did yours. Before you knew it, and before your brain could completely process what was happening, you were kissing Jeon Jungkook. 

Fireworks went off all around you, and you could no longer hear the whirring of the AC, or the sound of the television. All you could hear were his lips smacking against yours, and the way his breath hitched as your fingers pulled at the hair at the nape of his neck. 

His lips moved slowly, allowing you to get used to the whole process. He was gentle, and you were thankful for that. 

You could savor his taste for the rest of your life, you were sure of it. He tasted heavily of beer mixed with the fried rice you’d shared for dinner. Perhaps it wasn’t the best combination, but it was Jungkook, so none of it mattered. You didn’t want to taste anything, or anyone else, for as long as you lived. 

His tongue ran along your lower lip, and you didn’t hesitate to open up your mouth for him. His tongue slid easily inside, twisting and curling around yours as he explored every last crevice— memorizing what seemed to get a reaction out of you. 

One particular move of his wet muscle against yours had you keening and moaning into his mouth, and you quickly broke the kiss, bringing your hands up and over your mouth. 

“Oh, my god! I’m sorry, Kook, I—“ 

“Sorry for what?” He was out of breath, and his pupils were blown out. 

His hair had become slightly disheveled from the way you’d been tugging at it mindlessly, and his mouth was covered in your red lipstick. He’d never looked hotter, and you were suddenly very aware of the arousal pooling in between your thighs. 

“For— for making that noise, I’m—“ 

His fingers pushed a piece of your hair behind your ear, and his voice was soothing as he spoke. 

“Why are you sorry? That was the hottest shit I’ve ever heard in my life.” 

His words shocked you, “But we’re best friends! I shouldn’t be… we shouldn’t be—“ 

For the third time in a matter of minutes, he was cutting off your rambling. 

“Friends don’t kiss like that, Y/n.” 

“So, are you saying you don’t… want to be friends anymore?” 

You feared his answer, ready to run away in a fit of tears if he confirmed your scariest thoughts. You couldn’t lose him, not like this. 

“No, I don’t want to be friends,” your eyes began to well up, but he was quick to stop your tears from flowing with his next words, “I want to be more than that. I want to kiss you all the time, take you out on dates, among other things… whenever you’re ready for that. There’s no pressure here, because even if you don’t want this, I’m not going anywhere.” 

There he goes with that damn calming smile again, the one that caused your heart to stop, yet was its very reason for beating all the same. 

“I’d like that.” You grinned, shuffling your weight above him slightly to make yourself a bit more comfortable. 

When he groaned and tossed his head back, you were sure you’d hurt him. But before you could offer him your string of apologies, his hands were falling to your hips to hold you in place. 

“Fuck,” he sighed, “do that again. Please.” 

You arched a perfectly filled in brow, “What, this?”

Your hips rolled in a similar way that they’d done before, this time with more aim and purpose. And the man below you was making the most sinful, most beautiful sounds you’d ever heard. 

His length was hardening underneath you, and your eyes enlarged at the recollection. This definitely wasn’t doing your already seeping pussy any favors. 

“I understand if you don’t want to jump into anything sexual right now,” he breathed, heavy and uneven, “but if you don’t, you’re going to have to get off of me because all I want to do right now is grind into you until you’re cumming in your clothes.” 

“How did we go from being best friends an hour ago, to doing this?” You couldn’t stop the giggle that made its way through your lips, your hips pushing down and rolling into his once more— letting him know that you had no intentions of stopping. 

“I don’t know— Jesus!,” he bit down on his bottom lip as he tightened his grip on your hips and guided their movements, “but I’m so goddamn glad you’re on top of me right now.” 

“Me too.” You were quick to agree, hands bracing on his shoulders to hold yourself up. 

Both of you were gasping now, reveling in the feeling of your sexes grinding against one another. Every graze of his cock against your clothed clit sent fire through your veins, and your vision was beginning to black out. 

You had no idea dry humping could feel this damn good. But you were sure that it had a lot to do with the way Jungkook looked underneath you. 

He was completely wrecked and fucked out already, offering you slews of curses and praises every time you came down on his dick just right. 

“Fuck, I wanna be inside of you so bad,” you were bouncing against his length with fervor, no intentions of slowing down or stopping until you both reached your highs, “can’t wait to see that pretty little pussy, fill you up with my cum and mark you as mine.” 

You moaned at the thought, his filthy words moving you further and further to your desired state of euphoria. 

One of his hands gripped tightly on your ass, while the other rested over your clothed core. He looked up at you, silently asking for permission. He knew you’d never done anything like this with anyone before, and he wasn’t about to try and make you do anything that you were uncomfortable with. 

“Go ahead,” you gasped, barely having time to register what he was doing until his fingers were circling over your clit. 

You were very thankful that you’d decided to wear cloth pajama shorts, and thin ones at that. He could feel everything— and so could you. Your hips bucked up and into his hand as you rode his cock, begging for him to make you cum.

“You’re so fucking soaked, babe. It’s leaking through your shorts.” He smirked at the sight, gathering up a bit of the dampness on the tips of his fingers. 

The way he inserted the two digits into his mouth had you crying out, nearly on the verge of tears from the sight alone. 

“Wanna taste?” He asked, and you eagerly nodded. 

He collected more of your wetness onto his fingertips, and you made a show of sucking on them lewdly once they entered into your mouth. 

“Nasty little girl, aren’t you?” 

As if to prove his point, you used your own fingers to reach into your panties, gathering your arousal straight from the source. 

His was practically salivating, eyes begging for you to let him clean your fingers off with his tongue. 

As if reading his mind, you nodded. And he wasted no time before suckling your fingertips into his mouth. He moaned around them, savoring your sweet taste. He wished like hell he could pin you down and clean you up with his tongue, but he knew you weren’t ready for that, and he was respectful. 

Still, he was determined to make you cum. He wanted desperately to see what you looked like when you came undone. 

“No more games.” He growled, his hands returning to your hips to hold you steady above him. 

He fucked up against you, the outline of his cock hitting your sensitive bundle of nerves each time. 

Soon, you were crying out and squirming— a poor attempt at trying to get away. 

“F-fuck! Oh, my god!” you couldn’t stop the way your hips rolled, or the way your thighs began to shake, “Kook! Holy shit, I’m gonna—“ 

Before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm washed over you and you came harder than you ever had before in your life. Your body felt hot, and every single one of your limbs were shaking. The only thing you were able to say or remember was Jungkook’s name, chanting it like a prayer as you slowly came back down to earth. 

“That was fucking beautiful,” He was quick to compliment you, staring down at the apparent dark spot on your light pink shorts, “just wanna clean that all up, then do it all over again.” 

Your face was flushed, and you weren’t sure whether it was from the mind blowing orgasm you’d just had or his words. You couldn’t be bothered to care, your body falling limp against his as he held your delicate frame close to him. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.” You huffed, and you felt the rumble of Jungkook’s chest as he chuckled. 

“So, you wanna go on a date tomorrow?” His hand caressed your back, and your eyes fell shut at the soothing feeling. 

“Mhm.” You were dozing off, barely aware of what he’d said at all. 

He just simply smiled at you, pressing his lips to kiss the top of your head. 

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and get you to sleep.” 

You nodded as he stood up from the floor, cradling you in his arms. 

“Good idea.” You mumbled, nuzzling your cheek against his chest. 

He carried you down the short hallway to his master bedroom, kicking the door open with his foot. You were already nearly asleep as he laid you down on the right side of his bed. 

Jungkook kissed at your temple before making his way over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of his boxers for you to change into. He disappeared into the en-suite bathroom for a moment, carrying a damp cloth in his hand when he returned. 

You smiled at him, eyes half open. 

“This feels like a dream.” 

The weight of the mattress shifted as he sat down beside you, holding out the fresh change of undergarments and the towel for you. 

“Tell me about it.” He grinned, turning his head away from you to give you some privacy as you changed out of your soiled shorts. 

You were thankful for that— for how respectful he was. 

As you pulled your shorts down along with your panties, a realization hit you and your eyes widened. 

“Kook!” you shrieked, startling the man, “you didn’t cum!” 

He barked out a laugh at your outburst. Just when he thought you couldn’t get any cuter, you were quick to prove him wrong. 

“I know, it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not!” You insisted, quickly wiping your thighs clean and pulling on the plaid boxers he’d given you. 

“Babe, I promise, it’s okay. Tonight was all about you, I wanted to make you feel good.” 

Your lower lip pushed out and into a pout, your hands reaching forward to grab his face so that you could make him look at you. 

“But, I wanted to make you cum.” 

He hissed at your words, willing his cock not to rise. He knew you were tired, and there’d be plenty of time for you to get him off later. 

“Let’s get some sleep, yeah? We can fool around tomorrow if you want to.” 

You sighed, a tiny frown present on your face now. 

“Can I just… give you a hand job, or something?” 

You didn’t miss the way he groaned at your words, or the way his eyes quickly screwed shut. 

“If you want to, you can. But don’t feel like you have to, I promise, it’s okay.”

“I want to,” you didn’t hesitate in replying, “but I’ve never done it before, so…” 

Before you knew it, he was moving to lie down beside you on the other side of the bed. He was already sporting a tent in his athletic shorts, which had you nearly drooling. Based on the outline, he was sure to be huge. You prayed that you were right. 

Jungkook looked relaxed, large eyes staring up at you and waiting for you to make a move. He flashed you an encouraging smile, his hands resting behind his head. 

“Go ahead, do whatever you want. No need for you to be shy, it’s just me.” 

Just him. 

If anything, those words did little to calm your nerves. You’d only ever dreamed about being in similar predicaments with your best friend. And now that it was real and happening, you were petrified that you’d do something wrong and send him running in the opposite direction. 

Taking a mental deep breath, you sat up in the bed and crossed your legs as you turned your body to sit right beside his lower half. 

You reached a shaky hand forward, brushing your fingertips over the outline of his rock hard length. As your fingertips danced and teased over his covered cock, Jungkook’s breath caught in his throat. 

Carefully studying his face to watch his reactions, you pulled his shorts down and he lifted his hips to help you out. 

The tight, grey briefs he was wearing left little to the imagination. You could see every ridge and curve of his thick length, and drool was collecting on the corners of your mouth as you admired it. 

“Like what you see?” His voice was teasing, and he wiggled his hips. 

You laughed, rolling your eyes at his actions. 

Yeah, it was just Jungkook. Your best friend. The one person you trusted and loved most in this world. It was okay. This was okay. 

With your newfound confidence, you tugged his underwear down, his impressive dick springing free in the process. 

You moaned quietly at the sight. 

Sure, you were a virgin and didn’t have much to compare it to, but you were positive he had the prettiest cock you’d ever seen— and would ever see in your life. The head was perfectly pink and already dripping with precum, long veins running from base to tip. You couldn’t wait for the day it would be buried inside of you, and your cunt clenched around nothing at the thought alone. 

Your hand instinctively found itself wrapped around his length as best it could, fingers unable to connect to your palm due to his size. Jungkook let out a breathy sigh at the sudden contact, his eyes glued to the way your hand began to do a few test pumps. 

“Yeah,” he sighed, tilting his head back, “just like that. A little faster.” 

With his guidance, you did as he suggested and picked up the speed of your hand. You watched the way his face contorted, the way his eyes screwed shut and pulled together as you ran your thumb over his slit, collecting the moisture leaking from it to use as makeshift lube. 

Deciding to take a risk, you collect a bit of saliva in your mouth before allowing it to drip down and onto his cock. 

“Hoooooly fuck, that’s hot.” You smirked at Jungkook’s praise and approval, working your hand up and down his shaft at a quicker and easier pace now thanks to the slick your spit had created. 

The faster your hand pumped, the harder it became for Jungkook to properly breathe. He was panting, curses and praises of your name leaving his lips every so often. 

You brought your free hand up to work at his balls, rolling and caressing them in a way that seemed to drive the man halfway to insanity. 

“Fuck, you sure this is your first time doing this?” He breathed out the words, his arm falling to rest over his eyes as he attempted to keep himself composed. 

“Swear.” You responded, eyes glued to the way his bottom lip was now rested between his teeth. 

One final twist of your palm had him reeling, gripping at the sheets underneath him with one hand— his other coming to wrap around your wrist as you continued to work him toward his end. 

He was moaning shamelessly, not the least bit shy in letting you know how amazing you were making him feel. Maybe it was the way you were fondling him, or maybe it was the fact that it was you giving him the best hand job he was sure he’d ever had. 

He decided it was probably a combination of both as his hips thrust up wildly, effectively fucking his dick into your grasp. The way his cock seemed to twitch let you know he was close, and you brought your hand up and then back down as fast as you could. 

He came with a loud moan of your name, his sperm coating his lower stomach and your hand all at the same time. You watched in awe as he lost himself, pride settling in as you realized that you were the one responsible for his orgasm. 

As Jungkook’s body slowly stopped writhing, you removed your hand from his member. You waited for him to make eye contact with you again before you dipped your fingertips into the cum on the back of your other hand and brought them up and into your mouth. 

“Goddamn.” He groaned, marveling at your erotic behavior. 

You effectively cleaned his seed from your fingers, swallowing it and showing him your tongue along with your empty mouth. 

“That was amazing.” His compliments sent butterflies straight to your stomach, and he was pulling your mouth down to crash on his before you could respond. 

“I love you.” You were mumbling the words against his lips before you even realized what you were saying. 

You were panicking instantly, kicking your own ass for blurting it out. Sure, you’d said you loved each other before, but not like this. 

The feeling of Jungkook grinning against your mouth is what calmed you, and you matched his smile with one of your own. 

His forehead rested against yours as he pulled away, and the two of you let out a sigh of content. 

“I love you too, you know.” His hand caressed your lower back as he spoke, your thumb running over his cheek. 

“I was hoping.” You giggled, and he simply shook his head at you. 

This was it, you thought. 

You never wanted to kiss anyone else, or do anything remotely sexual with anyone else. He was going to be your first everything, you were sure of it. And you hoped that he’d be your last.

© kookiesjoonies 2020.

*do NOT reupload/repost on any site, translate without my permission, or claim as your own.

[entishramblings]

I Will Watch Over You [Aragorn X Reader]

A.N: so I actually busted this one out pretty fast I am surprised at myself???

Request: @sokkasdarling — HEY LOVE can i pls request smth for aragorn? simping for this boy recently. with the prompts "i'll keep you warm" and/or "i've got you" thanks in advance! i hope ur having a wonderful day<3

Pairing: Aragorn X Reader

Summary: Aragorn and (Y/N) are traveling through the Mountains and things happen.

Word Count: 1,283

Warnings: violence, ugly golbin imagery, graphic-ish wounds, fluff

MASTERLIST

In simplest terms, being a Ranger of the North could be hard. In less simple terms, it’s the down pour of cold rain that drenches you to the bone, it’s the freezing hail that burns at your skin, and it’s the wicked winds that force your body backwards. All of these struggles, all of this pain—is it really worth killing a couple vile beasts born of darkness?

Yes. Yes, it is.

Therefore, when Strider, as annoying as he was, requested that (Y/N) come with him to examine the rising numbers of goblins throughout the Misty Mountains she obliged.

The two had been trekking through the rocky tundra, fighting the harsh weather and avoiding the stone giants’ games, for weeks now. To say that it had been laborious and demanding was an understatement—especially because the two were constantly bickering. And the worst part was that they hadn’t even come across any goblins, well until now that is.

(Y/N) used her two long swords to block all the axes and clubs there were being swung at her head. As a dual wieldist she was able to kill twice as many, but with twice as much risk considering she had no shield. Strider, on the other hand, was just an idiot—in her opinion that is. He only used a singular sword—no shield, no other blade. Stupid really, and exactly what got her slashed.

They had been fighting together, side by side, in the pouring rain. And one missed parry from the dúnedain man led to a harsh dagger slicing at (Y/N)’s ribs.

He instantly knew that he made a mistake for the sound of a desperate scream met his ears. Strider whipped his head around in panic, only to lay his eyes on the injured woman clutching her side. She dropped one of her weapons and stubbled backwards.

There was one rule to fighting: don’t die, and don’t let your partner die. And it was obvious, with his inaccuracy, that he had fucked up.

Strider called out to her, begging her to stay alive—just long enough for him to kill the remaining goblins and stitch her up.

He grasped her second sword and instantly buried it into an oncoming creature’s chest.

Using the strength of his leg to pull out the weapon, his kicked the disgusting beast backward. It tumbled into two of its friends and they instantaneously fell off the side of the cliff into the stone giants’ fun. Aragorn, with his jaw tight and his teeth baring, turned to the last remaining goblin. As swift as an elf, he lunged forward. Crossing his sword and (Y/N)’s, he cleanly cut as the creature’s blubbering throat. The most repulsive gurgling noise that could ever been made was, but Strider cared not. The only thing of importance now was (Y/N).

He rushed towards her form, the swords clattering at his side. The harsh wet rain blurred his vision, yet he desperately clasped her cheeks. “(Y/N)? (Y/N)!”

She released a muffled groan and a handful of curses, “You idiot.”

A sigh of relief left his lips as he tugged her to her feet. Strider draped the young woman’s arm around his neck and held her waist with one hand. As quick as he could, he snatched up their weapons and pulled the injured woman with him.

“I’ve got you, (Y/N). I’ve got you. Just—just hold on a bit longer.”

The two stumbled through the mountains as Aragorn searched for shelter. He would glance every so often at (Y/N) for he was deeply worried. The young female ranger was leaning heavily on him to the point where he was basically carrying her. Her hand clutched her injured side as she stumbled forward, desperate to get wherever they were going. Furthermore, her chest rose and fell rapidly while she gasped for breath—only for her to inhale freezing rain. Her eyes were squinted shut and her lips were pulled into a tight line. With the loss of blood and the amount of pain she was pretty useless and, quite frankly, Strider knew it was his fault.

The Eru and Valar must have been listening to Aragorn’s prayers for the two stumbled upon a cave.

Strider unconventionally dragged (Y/N) into it and set her down against the smooth wall of the stone.

“I need light before I can examine your wound. Stay here while I search for something to make a fire with.”

(Y/N) groaned before speaking with sarcasm, “No I figured I would just continue scaling the mountains as I bled out.”

Aragorn rolled his eyes at her comment as he pulled off his hood, “Even as you are dying, you find a way to be a pain in my ass.”

She smirked at him and he scoffed in return. Strider then quickly scurried off. Luckily, the cave was not deep and someone must have occupied it recently for there was a small amount of kindling and wood. He rushed back to the injured Ranger and it was only a couple of moments before the sound of crackling flames met their ears.

He moved towards (Y/N). “Let me have a look.”

She began to pull off her soaked cloak, but stopped and hissed out in pain.

Aragorn lightly touched her hand to stop her action. “Don’t make it any worse,” he stated.

He gently pulled the fabric from her form, leaving her in a simple tunic. As carfully as he could, he began to pull her shirt up to reveal the bleeding laceration.

“Is—is it bad?” She questioned with heavy breaths.

He glanced up at her, “You will live.”

Strider ruffled through his leather bag before pulling out various needles, threads, pouches, containers, and a singular flask.

He looked at her once more, “This will hurt (Y/N).”

The male ranger poured the alcohol onto her side and watched as the clear liquor mixed with blood. (Y/N) bit back a groan and squeezed her eyes shut.

Strider then set to work. He wipped off her skin and began to sew it back together. (Y/N) was as stiff as a wooden plank as she clenched her jaw—a natural reflex in this kind of situation.

“Strider,” she hissed. “Could you be any more inept?”

He sent her a glare, “Maybe if you would stop moving it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

“I’m not moving.”

“Yes you are,” He reiterated.

She snorted and Aragorn continued to pull the thread taught for it needed to be done. Next, he made a paste for the wound using athelas leaves, echinacea stalks, and alder bark. He gingerly applied the blended mixture over (Y/N)’s stitching to ward off infections.

“Almost done, (Y/N).” He muttered.

Aragorn ruffled through his bag once more and his hand emerged with a clean dressing. He pulled her exhausted body forward and her head fell onto his shoulder. He began to attentively wrap the fabric around her until it was secure.

Slowly, Strider’s hands found their way to her face once more. He lifted her head and at that sensation she peeled her eyes open.

“I am so sorry, (Y/N). You should not have to suffer from my error.”

She shook her head and released a sigh, “Yeah you are to blame, but I am too cold to care.” She paused, adjusting her position slightly. “Just...just—“

Strider curled an arm around her waist and interrupted her stuttering sentence. “I’ll keep you warm.”

(Y/N) did not object, surprisingly. Instead, she let him shuffle behind her so that she sat between his legs. Careful not to press on her wound, he pulled her body to his chest which she gladly settled against. She leaned her back into him and rested her head upon his shoulder. (Y/N) let her eyelids flutter closed once more.

A soft kiss pressed against her temple and a quiet voice whispered in her ear. “Rest while we wait out the storm. I will watch over you.”

......

Everything Tag List: @sokkasdarling @scxundress @quilledinkpen @hufflepuffinblr @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary

Aragorn Tag:

@dark-angel-is-back

[ggukkiedae]

hi!! can i request smth where hannah gets a nightmare ab the sasaeng thing and yangyang tries to talk to her ab it?? (angst 4, 15, 17)~ 🍟

hey bub! of course! i havent written about yanghan in a while and i miss them aksjdhf (they’re going strong btw, rest assured yangyang is constantly hyping his gf up on ig, weibo, bubble, and just anywhere he can) aaaanyway, here it is! 🥰 everything is spoken in english btw so i won’t be doing the italics on this one

WARNING: violence and attempted murder (but it’s all a nightmare), sasaeng, kinda graphic

prompts: “Why are you lying to me?”, “Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know.”, “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

—

Hannah struggled to pull the girl’s hands away from her neck. She tried calling out for Mark and throwing the cup on her bedside table at the wall separating them in hopes that he’d come help her.

“Don’t you dare think my Mark oppa is going to come and save you, bitch.” The hands around her neck tightened, and all Hannah could do was struggle against them. No matter how much she clawed away at the sasaeng’s arms and hands, it was like she felt no pain.

Then they met eyes. Hannah froze. These eyes held so much malice in them. They were so cold. They reminded her of his eyes.

Then the door burst open. She could see Kihyun, her manager, on the other side of the door.

That’s when the sasaeng decided to yank on Hannah’s hair and use that to drag her to the window. Hannah desperately looked at Kihyun, unable to yell due to her throat being in pain. Where was Mark? Why wasn’t he coming? Did the sasaeng get him before her?

She watched as her manager tried to break through the barrier to get to her. Since when had there been glass in her door frame?

Her hair got pulled even harder as the sasaeng pulled her face up.

“If you want to be with my Mark oppa that much, then so be it.”

Hannah couldn’t do anything as the sasaeng pushed her out the window. She glanced at the streets and saw a red spot and familiar pajamas, making her breath hitch in her throat.

“Hannah!”

She shut her eyes. It was impossible for Kihyun to save her at this point.

“Hannah, please!”

It was taking awfully long for her to hit the ground.

“Hannah, wake up!”

What? She was awake. And that wasn’t her manager’s voice.

“Hannah, you’re having a nightmare. Please, wake up!”

With a gasp, the London-born girl sat up, panting in fear. She clutched at her chest and looked to her left. Next to her was none other than her boyfriend. Yangyang looked quite worried as he cautiously moved his hand towards her. Hannah flinched back and got off of the bed, shocking Minnie awake as the pomeranian was sleeping on his mini bed just by the foot of hers.

“I’m fine,” she told Yangyang, “just need a glass of water.”

She walked out of her side of the room, thankful Mark was spending the night at his girlfriend’s place because he would for sure wake up if he were home. She headed over to the window and took a deep breath before looking down from it. Nothing. Barely even any cars or people down there. A relieved sigh made its way out past her lips as she headed to the kitchen. The light footsteps behind her told her that Yangyang had also gotten out of bed and followed her to the kitchen.

“Do you need anything?” he asked her. “Do you want something warm to drink? Or food? I can run down to the convenience store if you like?”

“No, I’m good,” she reassured him and pulled out a glass and a pitcher of water. “I’m just parched. Keep it down, would you? Shotaro and Sungchan might wake up.”

She let the short silence pass between them as Yangyang went to the fridge and took a small carton of milk. Her boyfriend poured the milk into a mug and covered it with a plate before placing it in the microwave.

He leaned against the counter and looked at her with an eyebrow raised. “Holding everything in doesn’t help, you know?”

“I’m genuinely okay,” she tried to ignore the way her voice wavered, “and you should go back to bed. I’ll be right there.”

“I don’t think you’re okay, Hannah.” His gaze was a lot more intense than normal, making her shift a little from one leg to the other. “You had a nightmare bad enough that you were thrashing around. You don’t normally move more than two inches in your sleep. I need you to tell me what happened. Please don’t bottle it up.”

“It was nothing. Don’t think too much about it.”

“And let you overthink about it?” he scoffed as the microwave dinged. She watched as he took the milk out and walked over to her, handing her the mug. “No way. I know it isn’t nothing. Why are you lying to me?”

She bit her lip and looked down at the mug, gingerly taking it from his hands. “Milk? What am I, a toddler?”

“Hannah.”

Meeting her boyfriend’s eyes, she nearly caved completely. She took a sip of the milk and basked in the warmth that spread throughout her body, easing the tension that was forming. A hand made its way to her face, the way the thumb lightly stroked her cheek making her lean into the touch.

This was so different from the tight grasps and painful grips that she could remember. These touches were soft and careful. They were gentle. They weren’t out to get her. In these touches, there was comfort and no fear of being hurt in any way.

She could feel herself choking up. “If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

Yangyang didn’t have to be told twice.

She let her boyfriend pull her into a hug, hiding her face in his neck. It was comforting the way he whispered comforting words into her ear. All of a sudden, a hand made it’s way through her hair. A kiss was placed to the side of her head when she flinched, making her relax just a little more. There was no pulling, only reassurance.

After a while, Yangyang lifted her onto the kitchen island and leaned back a little. The way the warmth of his hands spread from where they were placed on her waist made her feel safe. There wasn’t some psycho deranged fan in her dorm out to get her. No, it was 2021, and that person has long been detained. She now lived not only with Mark, but with Sungchan and Shotaro as well. And, she had this amazing boyfriend in front of her who, despite his constant playfulness, was very intent on taking care of her.

“I saw her again,” she whispered to him as he handed her the warm mug of milk. “And Kihyun oppa couldn’t save me this time around. She got to Mark first and—“

Her eyes shut as she remembered the blurry yet clear image of her brother-figure on the ground. It was something she couldn’t say out loud, not without breaking down. As much as she and Mark go back and forth, he did mean a lot to her, and seeing him like that was terrifying, even in a nightmare.

“That wasn’t real, alright?” Yangyang reassured her. “It was a nightmare. You’re safe here. Security’s insanely high now, and that person’s gone.”

“I know.” Her voice was uncharacteristically small as she let Yangyang lightly pull her head down to place a kiss on top of it.

“Drink up,” he gestured to the milk. “Once you finish this, we can go to sleep again. No more nightmares. I’ll be right there.”

She looked at him, incredibly grateful. They had been dating for only a few months, yet he already knew how to calm her down that easily. He saw her bad sides and actually decided to learn about them instead of brushing it off.

She gently placed the mug on the surface next to her as she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend’s shoulders. He had settled himself between her legs and rested his head on her shoulder while he rubbed her back and traced nonsense words on there.

“Yangyang?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For you, anytime.”

[blackwidowyael]

One of those days

Hey y'all! I just received my first request from @thoughfulmilkshakeface, and here it is, hope you all enjoy! psa I am taking requests, mainly Natasha/Yelena/Wanda centric, and I dont do reader inserts or anything too smutty so feel free to leave smth in ma inbox ;)

Natasha has bad days. Clint knows this, and he also knows that the bad days will pass, making space for the good ones, where they can go out to the movies, or grab lunch, or take Lucky to play ball in the park without the change of routine sending her reeling.

It is these days that he treasures the most, when he can pretend, even if it is only briefly, that they are just another normal couple, with normal problems like squabbles over who’s turn it is to take out the trash or clean up after the dog.

Today is not one of those days.

Clint can tell from the moment they wake up. He cracks open an eye just in time to see the flash of metal handcuffs disappearing into Natasha’s nightstand.

The handcuffs rarely make an appearance anymore, and only on those nights where she is filled with an anxious restlessness, a sense of uneasiness that only the cool slicing of the metal can satiate.

She never talks about it, refuses to acknowledge that they still have a lingering control over her that she can’t quite shake. Clint understands what it is like to feel that lack of autonomy, and never pushes her to stop.

Lucky knows that Natasha has bad days as well. She stumbles past where he is eagerly awaiting breakfast, straight to the gym without so much as a glance in his direction. It is like she is barely even there.

Clint drags himself into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding hitting Lucky in the face as he reaches down to pat him through a haze of sleep. He fills Lucky’s bowl, and slides two pop tarts onto a plate. A smile almost reaches his face as he thinks about the plan Nat concocted to sneak them past the addicted demi-God upstairs.

And they wait for the last member of their family to return. Sometimes, an hour in the gym is enough to shake whatever demons were haunting her away and she returns more present, having slipped out of whatever funk she is in.

Today is not one of those days.

They watch the clock as the hands trail round the hour, and into the next. Lucky whines, pressing himself against Clint’s leg. He is weirdly intuitive, can always tell when something’s not right. Almost two hours have passed. Natasha’s coffee has grown cold in the pot.

“I guess you’re right, bud,” Clint sighs, rubbing Lucky behind the ears. “I’ll go check on her.”

At first, he thinks the gym is empty. Music blares out of the speakers as he scans every corner.

He finds her huddled in a crack between the wall and a punching bag. From her vantage point, she has a clear view of the entire gym, but she doesn’t even blink as he settles down in front of her.

Nat’s eyes are glassy, unfocused. Clint waves a hand in front of her face, trying to get her attention. He is wary of touching her when she’s like this, but he really needs to get her to the apartment. Clint can see the blood leaking through her pointe shoes, feet white with the ribbons tight enough to cut off her circulation. Slowly he loops one arm around her shoulders, the other under her knees, narrating as he does so.

No matter what, Clint wants her to feel at least some semblance of control.

“Alright, Tash, back to the apartment. I got you, it’s okay.” He glances at her briefly, to see if he has gotten a response, but she has retreated so far into herself that she can’t hear him. Dissociated, the part of his mind that has attended many therapy sessions with her, supplies.

She has frozen by the time he tries to deposit her on the couch. Eventually, he just sits down with her draped over his lap, hoping that the feel of him breathing would help to ground her. He thinks back to the day before, trying to remember what could have triggered it. Nothing springs to mind, although new triggers still pop up now and then. Maybe something from a mission?

Lucky worries when he sees Natasha like this. It makes Clint sad, and then neither of them will take him to the park. He leaps onto the couch, burying his muzzle in Natasha’s face and showering her with kisses. Suddenly, she stirs, breath shuddering in her chest.

“Nat, you’re okay, you’re safe. We’re in the apartment.”

One hand comes up, shielding her face, while she desperately tries to wriggle out of Clint’s lap. Her breath is beginning to come faster as she squirms, unable to escape Lucky’s slobbery hold.

“Natasha, it’s just Lucky, you’re okay.”

“Clint?”

“Yeah. Can you breathe with me?”

She can’t.

She can feel her breath whistling in her chest, coming faster and faster and despite this feel the lack of oxygen in her brain. Lightheaded. She doesn’t think her legs would support her right now if she tried to run.

Run away from all of this. All these emotions, clawing at her chest and anxiety buzzing in her brain and tingling on her skin and she can't breathe, she can’t-

Breathe.

One fist gripping Clint’s shirt, the soft fabric grounding, while simultaneously keeping herself as far away from him as possible, curled on the opposite side of the couch.

Through the icy panic, she tries to focus on his chest. Watching it rise and fall. She manages to take gulps of air to match, feeling the fog slowly evaporating around her.

“Idiot dog,” she mutters, pushing Lucky away from her.

The buzzing panic leaves her as quickly as it arrives, leaving her drained. The world is far too bright, too sharp, now.

Clint is watching as she tries to collect herself. Natasha feels her mask slamming into place, protecting her from the world and hiding her humiliation. She’s not sure how she got to the couch, but she can feel the concern and smothering pity rolling off of Clint in waves and she hates it.

She just wants to be alone, until she can forget again.

“Nat-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Clint presses his lips together. This repression shit can’t be healthy, but he knows better than anyone that there’s no point trying to make Natasha talk when she doesn't want to.

“Fine. We don’t have to talk. Can I at least look at your feet?”

Natasha glances down. Her feet are waxy, apart from the red marks made by the ribbons chafing. Blood has congealed around the box of the shoe, spattering its way up the shank.

“I can do it myself, Clint,”

“Natasha, I swear to God.” Clint pushes her back down as she tries to stand, going into the kitchen to grab the first aid box.

Carefully, he unties the ribbons, prying the shoes off her feet. The blood is sticky, and it takes a while for him to get them off without ripping the skin further.

Eventually, both shoes are discarded and he gets a proper look at her.

“Nat, what happened?”

Clint had hoped it would be an easy fix, just a couple of blisters, but apparently it wasn’t one of those days, and nothing was easy. Hundreds of shards of glass are embedded in the soles of Natasha’s feet, and when he looks back to her shoes, he can see more littering the soles.

He gets to work, painstakingly removing each shard and cleaning the cuts, before covering them in adhesive bandage. Questions can come later, when Nat is not still partially dissociated on the couch with a vase’s worth of glass in her feet. Lucky watches, resting his head on Natasha’s lap. This time, she doesn’t push him away, running her fingers through his fur.

“I needed to know that I hadn’t got soft.”

The words echo in the silence, although they were barely audible. Clint carefully schools his expression, keeping his posture open and relaxed.

“And dancing with glass in your shoes proves that how?”

“We used to do it,” Natasha pauses, staring intently at a spot on Lucky’s back, “before.”

Clint nods in understanding. It doesn’t surprise him, seems very on-brand given the sparse details she had shared over the years.

“You haven’t gotten soft, Tash. Why would you think that?”

“But I have,” she presses, leaning forward, “I see it all the time. They told me I could never form attachments, that it would make me weak. And I can’t do the missions I did before,”

“Can’t or won’t? You didn’t have any choice over taking missions, Tash. Just because SHIELD does things differently doesn’t mean you’re any less of an agent.”

“They’re in my head all the time,” Natasha admits. “I can hear them. Telling me I’m sloppy. Weak. They would be so angry if they could see me now. I just. I just needed to feel like I was,”

She breaks off, staring at her hands.

“Like what?” Clint prompts gently.

“Made of marble. That’s what they used to say to me.”

“They’re not here now, Nat. We are. Your family. You don’t need to be all perfect and tough around us.”

Nat shakes her head in exasperation, eyes roaming around the room as she searches for an explanation.

“But I still want them to be proud of me. It’s fucked up. I’m fucked up. They took everything from me and I still want to make them proud.”

“They tortured you, Natasha. They raised you, that’s not just going to go away. You’re not under their control anymore. I just want you, whatever that is.”

Suddenly, she can’t stand this conversation anymore, ignoring her protesting feet as she stalks into the kitchen. Clint follows, Lucky not far behind.

“Love is for children.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

Natasha huffs out a laugh, turning away to reach a mug. “You’d have to be stupid to want me.”

“I guess I really am an idiot then.” Clint reaches out, tugging on her arm until she is facing him.

“Lucky too,” he adds as the dog jumps up, pawing Natasha’s legs.

“Idiot dog.” A tiny smile graces the corner of her mouth.

“You’re more than just an incredible agent, Tash. You’re my best friend, my family. I love you.”

She ducks her head, staring at their intertwined fingers.

“I love you too, idiot.”

Clint grins. It was one of those days.

[jojo-daydreams]

i love your writing sm! what would bruno and abbacchio do if their s/o is always having trouble sleeping? up to u if it's a scenario or smth. tysm 💖

i personally need a bruno here w/ me when i can’t sleep. if bruno told me i needed more sleep i would simply get more sleep !!!!

Abbacchio:

Abbacchio has to hold in a sign as he feels you shifting beside him again, this seems to be happening a lot lately.. He feels bad getting annoyed because he’s quite sure you want you to be sleeping right now too, but now your insomnia is keeping him up as well. Abbacchio waits a few more moments, wondering if you’ve finally fallen asleep, but when you wiggle around again he lets out a very very hushed sigh before rolling over himself to face you.

He turns to see you very much awake and looking right at him in the dim light. When your eyes meet he can’t help the way the corners of his lips twitch upward. He can’t help but smile when he sees your face, something that drives him nuts sometimes. He had appearances to keep up, after all. However in the dark room you two share there’s no need for that.

“Can’t sleep?” He murmurs, his voice deeper than usual with drowsiness.

You pause a moment and squint at him in the dim light.

“No, I can’t. Sorry if it's keeping you up too.”

Abbacchio offers a one-shoulder shrug to placate you. He looks at your face again before he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, a muscled arm lifting up to wrap around you and pull you closer to him.

Once you're snugly against his chest he tucks your head under his chin. The scent of your hair is comforting to him and he lets himself relish it for a moment before giving the top of your head another kiss.

“Don’t mind me. Just close your eyes.  Whatever it is that’s keeping you awake, we can take care of it tomorrow, so just sleep amore.”

Bruno:

Bruno had felt something was off, even in his only semi-awake state. When he finally managed to rouse himself he noticed that something was indeed wrong. You were missing from your side of the bed, and when he reached over it felt practically cold. Frowning, Bruno pulls himself up from the bed, rubbing his eyes with a yawn.

He pads downstairs and finds you sitting in front of the TV. He walks up behind the couch slowly, though he clears his throat to alert you to his presence.

When you hum your acknowledgement he leans down a bit, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and ducking his head down next to you, letting his warm breath ghost over your ear before kissing the side of your head.

When he feels you lean back into his embrace he hums happily.

“What is it amore, why aren’t you in bed with me?” He says, voice soft and soothing.

“I… I don’t know. I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I don’t know what to do.”

He frowns at your confession, brown furrowing. He wishes he could just cure this for you, wave his hand and banish whatever it is that is keeping you awake. He wonders idly for a moment if you do know what's keeping you up, and you just won’t tell him. Bruno’s frown deepens as he considers it. He doesn’t like the idea of you hiding something from him, especially not if it's something that bothers you enough to keep you from sleep, but he decides not to push the issue for now. You’ll tell him when you’re ready.

He retracts his arms and straightens, walking around the couch to flop down next to you. He turns to look at you, catching the confused look on your face, and offers you a smile.

“What’s with the look? I’m not going to bed without you, so… What are we going to be watching then?”

[tsukishimaenthusiast]

Hii!! Could I request a hcs with ones you did for the over protective brother but the readers older brothers catch them making out or smth like that? With the same people (Akaashi, Oikawa and kyoutani). Have a great day!!! 🥳

akaashi, oikawa, and kyoutani when their s/o’s older brothers catches them making out

akaashi:

so ur brothers fw akaashi bc he’s extremely well mannered

the first couple of times he visits the house, they don’t leave you two alone

but eventually they’re like, “yea okay… he’s good.”

meaning, you and akaashi can finally be left alone

you two are sitting down and watching a movie while your brothers are in their rooms

akaashi knew better than to kiss you or whatever,,, cause anyone could walk in at any moment

and he DEF did not want to get on ur brothers bad side

but you were feeling needy

so you started innocently kissing his neck

“y/n… c’mon.. are you trying to get me killed?”

you chuckled at him

“noooo, i just want a kiss,” you said with a pout

you leaned in again before akaashi could protest

and this time he didn’t stop you

you kissed akaashi on the lips and it got heated pretty quickly

akaashi’s grip on your waist became tighter and you began straddling his lap

“YO! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS DOING?!”

you jumped off of akaashi w QUICKNESS only to see two of your brothers

one had his arms folded and the other had a clear face of disgust on

akaashi immediately stood up and apologized

“listen- i’m sorry. it won’t happen again.”

“yea, you’re right. it won’t. cause you’re leaving.”

they started pushing akaashi towards the door but you grabbed his hand and pulled him away from them

“guys, stop. he’s not leaving. you two were supposed to leave us alone. now could you PLEASE go away?”

your brothers would usually not listen to you but they could see that were annoyed

plus they saw your tight grip on akaashi’s hand

“fine, we’ll let you get away with it this time.”

when they were out of sight, akaashi pushed you by your shoulders

“you’re really trying to get me killed, y/n..”

oikawa:

this doofus omg

he didn’t have practice today so he walked you home

oikawa wouldn’t DARE to kiss you in front of your house

...so he decided it would be best to kiss you two blocks away from it LMAO

he found a tree in the shade and walked towards it, pulling you with him

“lemme taste those lips, baby..”

oikawa leaned you against the tree and kissed you roughly

he started sliding his hands up your thigh and then started reaching for your neck

he tilted your head back so he could kiss you deeper

within seconds, all the feeling was gone

“OW!!”

oikawa was now on the floor and you saw some of your brothers around him

“what the FUCK?!??!”, they yelled

oikawa tried to get up but one of your brothers held him down

“stop! you guys are being ridiculous!!”

you pushed them away and helped oikawa up

your brothers think oikawa is weak and wouldn’t fight back, but he WOULD… except he would never put a hand on one of your brothers

“listen guys, i’m sorry. okay?”

you were holding oikawa back and your hand was one his chest… his heart was beating FAST but he was talking calmly

your brothers didn’t go away, though

“ughhh, tooru.. just- just go home. i’ll call you later.”

oikawa looked at you and then at your brothers

…then, he looked back at you and quickly gave you a kiss on the cheek before running away with a smirk

some of your brothers chased after him LOL

kyoutani:

your brothers were supposed to be out of the house

so you invited kyoutani over

you two were in your room… and it didn’t take long for kyoutani to be on top of you

he pinned down your arms against your bed and started attacking your neck

you moaned his name and he groaned loudly in your ear

kyoutani started grinding his hips against yours… it all felt too good

you heard your bedroom door fly open and then ...

“GET OFF MY SISTER, YOU ANIMAL!!!”

you turned your head and saw your brothers standing in the doorway

kyoutani stopped kissing you but he didn’t get off on top of you

“I SAIDDD.. GET! THE FUCK! OFF!!”

they started pulling kyoutani off of you and you sat up

tbh… you were kinda scared yourself

“LEAVE!”

kyoutani stared at your brothers and pulled you up off your bed…

oh god, he was leaning for a kiss again… was he asking for a death wish?

but before he could reach your lips, your brothers dragged him out of your room and out of the house

well… you were in for a LECTURE later